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harrygoeswest · 2 years ago

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Trigger Warnings: sweary sweary language, bullying

Word count: 9,451

Chapters three & four

five

I’d felt bad for ignoring George the other day, so I sent an apology and a brief response to his question, and we ended up arranging to meet that evening, but this time he picked me up and we drove out to Lechlade where he lived.

It was a beautiful village, much like Bibury - on the river with locks to watch the canal boats come and go. We sat outside The Riverside pub, with food this time as well as a shared bottle of wine, and talked endlessly about nothing while we watched the world go by.

In hindsight I wish I hadn’t gone. Not because I didn’t have a nice time - I did. But that was all it was; nice. He was gentlemanly to a degree, though somehow I felt like all our conversations lead back to the same thing. For a man who seemed to hold chivalry to a high importance, he talked about sex a lot. I’ve never been the type to squirm over those kinds of conversations, but it did get boring after so long.

And it’s not like he was bad in bed. He wasn’t incredible or utterly life-changing, but he wasn’t terrible. He was adequate. Unfortunately, adequate was not what I was looking for.

So when I woke early on the Saturday morning and found him wrapped around me, similarly to the way I’d been held in that dream that fucked me up so badly the other day, I felt nothing. Whoever that man had been in my dream, it was not George. For some inexplicable reason this all made me feel guilty. That was all I ever seemed to feel at the moment. Either that, or embarrassed. The latter wasn’t quite so uncommon.

I decided it was time to leave, even though it was only early. The alarm clock on his bedside table read just before 6:30am.

I peeled myself out of his hold and sat on the edge of the bed for a minute, rubbing my eyes and my face. I then went straight to the bathroom and used the loo. On my return I got dressed in yesterday’s clothes (obviously).

“Everything okay?” George asked, having not moved an inch.

I looked at him with a smile. “Yeah, fine. I just really need to get home before my daughter gets mad at me.”

That seemed to startle him somewhat. He frowned and rolled onto his back. “You have a daughter?”

I wasn’t at all surprised by his reaction. In fact, most men seemed to be put off the second I mentioned Ruby, so I’d often use the information as a scapegoat to leave.

I hummed. “Yep, she’s nearly 6.”

“Wow,” he coughed and sat up, “you, er, you look too young to be a mum.”

I tipped my head to the side. “Maybe.”

George didn’t say anything else.

I finished getting ready and then found my phone. “What’s the number for a taxi?” Ubers didn’t exist in the Cotswolds yet.

He gave me the contact information without moving a muscle. He didn’t even move when I had to leave. I knew after hearing the revelation of my young spawn he’d never try to contact me again. It was always the way. Fortunately it was exactly what I wanted.

At home I showered, dressed, and had a substantial breakfast before I collected Ruby from my parents’ house. I had a bit of a dickie tummy from the amount of alcohol consumed in the heat yesterday and wanted to make sure I wouldn’t be feeling shit for Ruby all day. The weather was too nice to miss out on doing something fun with her.

I drove the car around to Mum and Dad’s, noting how warm it felt even though it was only early spring. I’d put a dress on but didn’t pay a thought to my thighs when I made that decision. Now they were sweating and I was dreading the later unavoidable chafing.

“Mummy!” Ruby squealed the moment the front door opened, and appeared not seconds later at the end of the hallway.

“Morning, angel!” I squeaked, taking her in for a tight hug once she’d charged into me.

“Grandad did my hair!”

I looked her over as she pulled back, and my expression dropped. Dad had given her pigtail braids but they were uneven, one-sided, and somehow her parting went diagonally across her head rather than straight down the middle.

I coughed, “I can see that.”

“Do you like them?” She grinned at me, smoothing her little hands over the top of them.

How could I tell her they were giving me anxiety? I couldn’t. “Love them!” I said briskly. “Do you want to go and get your things?”

“Okay!” Ruby squeaked, and skipped away again.

I followed her at a much less enthusiastic pace. In the lounge, Dad was tidying away Ruby’s toys into their designated boxes.

“Morning, darlin’,” he said around a smile.

“Hiya.” I returned, noting that Mum was nowhere to be found. “Mum gone to the salon?”

“Yep.” He sighed. “Sorry about her hair.”

At least he knew it looked shit too. “It’s fine. She likes it, so who cares?”

“I suppose. What are you going to do today?”

“I don’t know.” I said lightly, and perched on the edge of the sofa. “It’s so nice outside, I want to take her somewhere.”

“Why don’t we go to the country park? My treat - she can wear herself out on the inflatable thingy.”

“Isn’t that a bit big for her?”

“Nah!” He stood up, taking the box of toys with him. “I’ll go in with her if it makes you feel better? Make sure she don’t drown or whatever.”

My gaze narrowed. It wasn’t very often my dad would offer to do a child’s play activity. “Are you avoiding staying at home alone, Papá?”

He huffed, but I knew he was joking. “Excuse me for wanting to treat my only child and grandchild to a nice day out.”

“Alright, fine. If that’s what you want to do, we’ll do that.”

“Well, it’s not about me, is it? It’s about Ruby.” He said, and I followed him out of the room.

I rolled my eyes. “Ruby?!”

“Yeah?!” She shouted back from her bedroom.

“Do you want to go to the water park today?”

Ruby squealed. “Yes please!” She ran across the landing to stand at the top of the stairs.

I was just waiting at the bottom. “Do you want to go on the inflatables with Abuelo?”

“Yes! Yes I do!”

I turned over my shoulder to where Dad had paused trying to shove the box into the right space on the shelf. “I think she wants to do your suggestion.”

“Alright.” He chuckled. “We’ll have to get a shift on, then, before it gets insufferably busy.”

I ushered Ruby to hurry up again.

My dad cleared his throat once she was out of earshot.

“What?” I asked at the look on his face.

“I’ve spoken to one of the local breeders about the dog.” He practically whispered.

I grimaced without thinking. “Okay,”

“He said there aren’t any around here at the moment, but he’s going to get in touch with others that aren’t a ridiculous distance away and see what he can find. Once he’s found one I’ll let you know so we can go and see them.”

I took a deep breath and nodded. “Alright.”

Dad placed his hand on my arm. “Floss, we’ll figure it out.”

“I know. I just don’t want it to turn out that we can’t get one in time or we get the wrong one, you know?”

“I do. But she’s an angel. Even if we don’t get a blue one, she’ll be happy with a Great Dane. In fact, I’d be willing to bet she’d be happy with any dog.”

I wasn’t sure.

I still wasn’t entirely convinced or even sold on the idea of getting this puppy at all, but it seemed I didn’t have much of a choice. Ruby had played me like a… what’s the saying? Anyway, Ruby had me wrapped around her middle finger.

“Mummy!”

I sat up at the sound of my daughter’s squeaking, a panic rising in me as it did any time she sounded scared.

“Mummy, Mummy!” She cried again, and I threw the covers off me, eyes still barely open.

The bedroom door was flung open as I swung my legs over the side.

“What’s the matter, darlin’?” I asked, not braced for the way she launched herself at me. I sounded half-dead.

“We need to go!” She yelled, and I realised then that she was excited, not scared.

If she mentioned a fucking blue Great Dane called Bongo I would actually shout at her for the first time in my life.

“Go where?” I said tightly as I pulled her up to lie next to me in bed.

Except she didn’t lie down, she sat on top of me like a damn monkey. “Kid’s club!”

Suddenly, it felt like the world had slowed down. Kid’s club? She fucking hated kid’s club. I’d witnessed a screaming snotting fit five days a week for the past six months over kid’s club, had I not? Did I dream that? Or was I dreaming this now? I might’ve slapped myself but that wouldn’t set a very good example.

“Kid’s club?”

“Yeah! We need to go now!”

I blinked at her. “Why?”

“Because!”

I looked at the time. 06:59. I sighed and turned my stare to the ceiling. My alarm was set for 7 anyway.

“Mummy, come on!”

“Alright, alright!” I flinched away from her when she smacked my arm. “Stop hitting me, please.”

Ruby’s hands fell to her sides. “We need to go, Mummy.”

I nodded absently, and then the alarm started screaming. I stopped it within seconds and sat up again. “Let’s go, then. Eager beaver.”

Was I completely bewildered by her sudden u-turn in attitude towards the morning club? Absolutely. Did I think that as soon as we pulled into the car park she’d start throwing another of her tantrums? Yes, I did. For that moment I couldn’t fathom what might have brought her to change her mind.

Ruby got dressed faster than she ever had done before, and was so keen on getting to school that she even put her own shoes on. She waited by the door, her little school-branded satchel in hand. I giggled to myself when I found her that way. She looked so cute.

I pecked the top of her head and turned her around by the shoulders. One thing she hadn’t done was her hair. I quickly brushed it and then tied it up for her in a ponytail with a scrunchie the same colour as the school uniform.

We then loaded up into the car and drove around the corner to the school. I kept an eye on her throughout the short journey, but she just had her head permanently in the window watching the world go by.

We pulled into the car park and I braced myself for a change in attitude. I thought she might scream when I got out and moved around to open the door for her, but by the time I got there she’d already let herself out.

“Bye, Mummy! Love you!” She shouted as she ran off through the gate towards the cabin.

I stared off after her with a blank look, suddenly unsure of what to do with myself. Perhaps Lorraine had finally listened to me and made my daughter feel comfortable enough to spend an hour at the club before going to school. I still didn’t know what the initial problem was, but I was just relieved to see Ruby her normal self again in the mornings.

And it continued that way for the rest of the week. Every morning she would charge into my bedroom minutes before the alarm went off to wake me up, demand we get up that instant and then wait by the door fully dressed and satchel in hand ready to leave. I’d drive her to the school and then she would launch herself from the car and into the hut to start her day.

I was relieved to some degree, obviously. It hadn’t been nice seeing her so distressed over a little club for so long and it was comforting to see her excited about it all of a sudden. I just didn’t know why. My usually very forthcoming child had kept her experiences in that hut very close to her chest - both good and bad.

While before I was trying to work out the mystery of why she hated going, now I was trying to figure out why she loved going.

I hadn’t been on a blind date in… well, ever. This was an unusual idea to me. Why would I want to go on a date with someone I’d never seen or heard of before? Why would anyone want to do that? I couldn’t for the life of me find any kind of appeal, and yet I was surrounded by people that did. I mean, Bibury was a small place. All the surrounding villages were equally small, if not smaller. There was actually every chance I knew this person very well. But then I hated the idea of not knowing until I arrived. At least with Tinder dates I knew what I was getting myself into.

Mostly.

There was one terrifying occasion where I thought I was meeting up with a handsome older man. Turned out he was just old. And I mean nearly 80. I didn’t live that one down for a while.

Because I didn’t know who I was meeting I had no idea what to wear. I spent nearly 2 hours trawling through my wardrobe trying to find something I was satisfied with, and yet I never seemed to be satisfied at all.

I knew I was going to The Swan, but the difference was it was dinner at The Swan. I might’ve been in there most Fridays for a drink or five, but I’d only ever eaten there with Ruby and my parents. Never on a date. For some reason, the prospect of eating completely threw me and all my usual outfit choices.

Eventually I decided on a burnt orange belted culottes jumpsuit with butterfly sleeves. I left my hair loose and gave it a quick brush, applied the smallest amount of makeup because I actually just couldn’t be bothered to, and put on a pair of white strappy braided low heels. I didn’t bother with a jacket, even though I knew I’d probably regret it later.

I walked from my house into the village and to The Swan, smiling at pretty much every single person I passed because I knew them in some capacity, whether it be well or not so. It was another pleasant evening. It seemed summer had come early and honestly I was delighted about it.

The Latin in me craved the sunshine and the heat. I often fantasised about moving Ruby and I to Colombia or Peru to make the most of it, but I knew my mother would never hear of it. While she was proud of our heritage she despised the thought of going back to South America to live.

Inside The Swan I found the host in the restaurant, a staff member I wasn’t very familiar with, and gave over Zara’s name.

The host smiled and looked through the diary. “Perfect. You’re just in that table by the window,” she pointed to two armchairs facing each other with a dining table between, nestled into a crook with a tall window.

It was all very romantic and lovely, and I’d forgotten quite honestly that I was here for an actual date, not just a one-night stand. The table had a tall candle in the middle of it and the lighting was dimmed ready for the evening.

I looked at the person already sitting in the left-hand chair, staring intently at his phone. My stomach fell.

“Oh my God,” I groaned, taking a step backwards and knocking into the desk. “Shit,” I looked at the host again, “I’m sorry.”

“Are you okay?”

I wasn’t okay. I moved out of sight of the table.

It was the dentist. Harry Styles, the sexy dentist, was my blind date. Zara had royally stitched me up. I was starting to panic. I could feel it in my chest and in my ears.

There was no way I was going to manage a date with him. I could barely string a sentence together in front of him, let alone sit with him for however long and eat in front of him. He’d get to the end of it and never want to see me again. Perhaps that was a good thing. But it was easier for me to actively avoid him than for him to actively avoid me.

I was so annoyed. He looked so good. He’d dressed up a little - wearing beige suit trousers and a black shirt that kind of looked sheer. His hair was a little floppy and messy like he’d just washed it and let it dry to its own will.

I had no problem fancying him. He was very fanciable, evidently. And Zara had been right - anyone would be a fool not to find him good-looking. His looks were absolutely not the problem. It was his profession and my idiotic inability to not be able to build a bridge.

Could I leave? God, I hated to have to be that person to stand someone up on a blind date, but I couldn’t bear the thought of facing him after those two ridiculous incidents in his practice. I knew for sure he thought I was crazy. I didn’t want to cement that even further by spending two hours just embarrassing myself in front of him.

“Miss?”

I looked back to the polite host. “Christ, I’m sorry. Um…” I peered around the corner for another look at him.

He was still very pretty and still very invested in something on his phone. I found myself yearning for him and I needed to stop.

“No, yeah,” I met her gaze again, “I can’t be here with that man. It’s not his fault, I’m just… completely and utterly useless.”

She looked very confused.

“I know I’m not making any sense. Basically, I just need you to tell him I’m sick or something. Please? I’m sorry to put you on the spot but I have embarrassed myself in front of him twice already and I’m not gonna do it a third.”

The host relaxed and lifted her head. “I see. Leave it with me.” She smiled.

“Thank you!”

I allowed myself one more peek at Dr Styles before I practically ran from the pub.

I was riddled with guilt and shame. I just stood someone up. I’d never done that before, because I’d always thought it incredibly rude. I was incredibly rude in one sense, but I was also terrified. Why did the only single man to roll into town for the first time in years have to be beautiful and a dentist?

In haste, I walked to Geri’s and let myself in without even knocking. I found her and Zara in the living room sharing a bottle of wine and a curry from the local takeaway.

“Why are you here so soon?!” Geri stood up at my breezy entrance.

“You can’t have embarrassed yourself already…” Zara said with a frown.

“No, actually,” I pointed at her, “I left before I could do that. In fact, I left as soon as I walked through the door.”

“Why?!”

“Because that man has seen me covered in grease and dirt and talk absolute rubbish on two entirely separate occasions, and I am not opening myself to a third!”

“How the fuck have you managed that? He’s only been here a few weeks.”

“With great ease, apparently.” Zara muttered. “I can’t believe you stood him up! You look incredible! He’d be drooling over you!”

I flopped down on the sofa with a sigh, gladly taking the half-empty wine glass Geri offered to me. I took a long drink. “Yes, but he is on another level, isn’t he? Like… next to him I am nothing.”

“False.” Geri shook her head. “He might be pretty but you are beautiful, señorita.”

I giggled but it was filled with anguish, and leant my head on her shoulder. “Thank you. Still doesn’t change that I know he thinks I’m batshit crazy.”

“You are batshit crazy.” Zara corrected. “But who cares? There is not a person in this village who has a bad word to say about you.”

“That’s true.” Geri agreed.

“Also, you don’t have to marry the poor sod. You could’ve just had dinner, gone home together; bit of sexy time; bit of fun; sent him home in the morning.”

I pouted. “I am not letting a man with a face that gorgeous anywhere near my,” I gestured wildly to my face, “food funnel.”

“Just call it your mouth, you absolute weirdo!” Zara hissed.

Geri rolled her eyes. “Why do you think Ruby calls her nose a snot bucket, Zara?”

“You are joking.”

I ignored the two of them and carried on drinking.

“Anyway, you’re never going to find the love of your life by not going on the blind dates I set up for you. You’ll be single forever.”

“Maybe I like the idea of being single forever.” I retorted. “I don’t want some stuck up male moseying into my life and telling me how to live it, or how to bring up my child. I’m just fine on my own, thank you very much.”

“Bet that’s not what you were thinking when Ruby’s daddy minced his way into your knickers, was it?” Geri quirked a brow.

I was having a hard time imagining Federico mincing his way into anything. How does one mince? Is it slug-like? Or like a criminal in a cartoon, with the jutting of shoulders and long strides with high knees?

“Well, he wasn’t exactly around for very long, either.” Zara muttered, and then looked directly at me. “What was he doing here again?”

I decided to tell a little white lie. I shrugged, “I dunno, some study abroad scheme, I think. I don’t remember much.”

“Was that the last time someone shagged you?” Geri’s question made me feel like a child who didn’t know anything.

I scoffed. “No.”

“Floss, why did I even bother setting up that date for you?”

“I don’t know. I had a moment of weakness? A vivid dream where I was stupidly craving the physical affection of a man. I won’t be doing it again.”

“You’re not holding out for that Italian, are you?” Geri asked quietly.

“No.” I laughed. “If I never saw Rico again I wouldn’t be surprised, and I’m okay with that. I’m happy where I am.”

My two friends looked at me in silence for a moment.

Eventually, Geri said, “Hungry?”

“Fucking starving, mate.”

six

The Easter holidays came and went in no time at all. Part of me had wanted to take Ruby away for a few days somewhere, but since I was apparently about to break the bank buying a dog for her, I’d tossed the idea in the bin and pretended not to think about it.

She didn’t seem to mind. She had so many friends I could never remember the names of that she spent most of the holidays at other people’s houses. On one Friday I had let her arrange a sleepover which she seemed to especially enjoy. Geri came over to help with it, and while the girls had the rule of the roost downstairs, we stayed upstairs and shared a bottle of wine and stuck a film on, but kept the door open so we could hear them in case anything happened.

Mum and Dad also offered to have her a few times so I didn’t have to worry about arranging childcare. She only came with me to work twice, but she seemed to enjoy herself. She always managed to find a way to entertain.

We were back to Monday morning, and I was having an internal debate whether she’d kick up a fuss over kid’s club again or wake me up early like she had done every day the week before the holidays.

When Ruby did inevitably wake me up, I nearly choked at the sight of her fully dressed in her uniform.

“What on Earth?” I laughed, sitting up.

“I want to go now, Mummy!” She squeaked, a delighted smile on her face.

“Rubes, it doesn’t even open until half 7, and I don’t pay for you to turn up that early.”

“Please?”

“No, darlin’.” I didn’t want to give Lorraine the satisfaction.

Ruby huffed and began to stomp away.

“Excuse me,” I called after her, and she stopped at the unimpressed tone of my voice, “come here, please.”

She turned to face me with a scowl, marching her way back to me.

I took her hands in mine and made sure she was looking at me before I spoke. “I’m over the moon that you’re enjoying that club again, but we don’t throw a strop because we can’t get what we want, do we?”

“No.” She muttered, looking to the floor.

“No, we don’t. Now, I can’t send you there before 8 o’clock because that’s not the arrangement I have with them. I also don’t have to - I like our mornings together. So, we are going to go at 8 like we always do, and in the meantime I am going to get ready at a normal pace and you are going to wait for me. Okay?”

“Okay,” She said.

“Good girl.” I replied, and kissed her hands. “Now, you can go and watch TV if you want while you wait. And if you haven’t brushed your teeth I’ll be really upset.”

My daughter’s hands slipped out of my grip, and she trudged her way out of the room. I watched after her as she left, a slight pout to my lips. She was cute and all, but one day she was going to give someone a real run for their money. I just hoped that whoever she did end up with liked a challenge.

I got ready at my usual pace since I was actually in less of a rush than I usually would be. It felt warm again so I dug another t-shirt out of the wardrobe and a pair of black jeans for the journey. I’d only have to cover up with a boiler suit when I got to the garage anyway. I tied my hair up without looking in a mirror, made my way downstairs and pulled my boots on.

Ruby was still eagerly waiting by the door when I got to the foot of the staircase. I giggled at her and stroked my hand over her hair.

Once again I drove her to the school and she spent the entire journey staring out the window. I didn't dare ask her what she was thinking - I didn’t want to pull her out of her daydreams like that, as curious as I was to know. As soon as I’d stopped the car in the car park she unclipped her belt and wriggled her way out of the car.

“Ruby!” I shouted after her, and fiddled my own way out. I hated running, but I was sure as hell going to this morning.

She ran straight to the hut without a hint of hesitation, and I just about caught up to her in the doorway. She looked around the playroom at all the other children, and her shoulders slumped with sadness.

“What’s wrong?”

Ruby turned around and walked back out of the hut again. “Nothing.” She muttered.

I was confused. And bewildered. One minute she couldn’t wait to get here and now she didn’t want to go inside again.

“Ruby, darlin’, you know you can tell me what’s upsetting you.” I reminded her, crouching down beside her and taking her hand to encourage her to look at me.

“I know.” She mumbled, angled towards me but not looking directly at me.

“So why don’t you tell me what’s wrong?” I squeezed her hand.

“Because you’ll think I’m silly.”

“I promise you I won’t.” I hummed, bringing her hand to my mouth. “Talk to me, muffin.”

She debated for a moment. I could almost see her thinking, eyes drifting slightly with her thoughts. She opened her mouth to speak, but stopped at the sight of another car pulling into the car park.

I followed her gaze, brows furrowing. A familiar black Range Rover pulled in, parking a few spaces away from mine.

“Yay!” Ruby squealed, and immediately ran off again.

I took a few deep breaths. “Oh, fuck.”

At a much less enthusiastic pace, I followed Ruby back across the playground to the car park. Simultaneously, Dr Styles made his way out of his car to keep a cautious eye on his own child.

“Oscar!” He shouted after he’d closed the door.

That name rang a bell. Why did that name sound familiar?

I looked at the child that Ruby was suddenly so eager to see. He looked like his dad, that was for sure. He was a little blonder than I expected, and his hair didn’t quite have the curly bounce to it that his dad’s did, but he was so very similar to the dentist in the face. He was a very cute little thing, I had to say. Not as cute as Ruby, obviously.

Oscar and Ruby met halfway and immediately grouped close to one another, giggling over something.

I tucked my loose fluffy bits of hair behind my ears. The dentist made his way towards me, wearing blue scrubs on his lower half and a tight-fitted black t-shirt on his top. His boobs looked better than mine, and he pulled off casual-doctor-chic better than I did casual-mechanic-chic.

The closer he got to me the more weighted I felt. He looked at my t-shirt as he was about to speak, and got cut off by his own breathy laughter. “Morning,”

I quickly glanced down at myself, reminded of which one I was wearing. It was white with a red printed line-drawing of a pair of legs on a bed, face-down, with the caption ‘Lying Down Club’. I cleared my throat and looked anywhere but directly at him, “Hello,”

There was a moment of dead silence between us, but Oscar and Ruby were chatting away with ease.

“Oscar actually asked me to drop him off later.” The dentist said, arms now folded across his chest.

I looked at him properly then. “Oh, really?”

“Yeah, I usually,” he pointed a lazy finger at the children and swallowed thickly, “drop him off when it opens, but he said he doesn’t like being there early because Ruby isn’t there.”

“Oh…” I couldn’t help but smile a little. “That’s very sweet. Ruby asked me to take her earlier today, actually. But I’m meaner and said no.”

“I don’t think it’s mean.” He shrugged. “It’s a lot of money to send them here.”

I nodded in complete agreement. “And the woman that runs it is fu-,” I stopped myself from swearing, even though the children were not interested in our conversation, “she’s horrible.”

“Lorraine?”

“Uh-huh.”

The dentist smiled at the floor. “Yeah, she’s a stern woman.”

“Certainly one way of putting it.” I muttered.

Suddenly the children took off again, running towards the hut.

“Hey! Ruby?!” I yelled.

“Bye, Mummy!”

I lifted my hands up and sighed. “Bye, then.”

Dr Styles chuckled behind me. “Must be nice to have so much energy.”

“Yeah, tell me about it.” I huffed and turned to face him again. “She woke me up this morning fully dressed and ready to leave before my alarm had gone off.”

Harry smiled, and I forgot how to breathe for a minute. “I’ve had two weeks of it. Took him to my Mum’s for the Easter Holidays and all he spoke about the entire time was Ruby. He adores her.”

I felt my cheeks warm but I didn’t know why. He was complementing Ruby, not me. Still - it made me proud to know that other children enjoyed her company and looked forward to it. “I had been wondering why she suddenly enjoyed coming here so much. Up until the week before the holidays I used to have to push her, kicking and screaming, to go inside.”

“It’s nice. I’m glad he could settle in here.”

“So am I.” I smiled back at him.

We stayed just grinning at each other for some time. I couldn’t take my eyes off him, he was so handsome. Perhaps I was a fool to have stood him up, but he didn’t know that was me. Or at least I hoped he didn’t. Still, I stood before a beautiful man that I would happily look at all day. Perhaps we could end up being good friends one day. It didn’t change that he was a dentist and I was terrified of having him anywhere near my teeth.

He looked at his watch then and panicked. “Shit, I need to go.”

“Oh, me too.”

“My first appointment is in like, 10 minutes.” He laughed, turning away. “Bye, Florence.”

“Bye,” I said with a limp wave, wandering back towards my own car.

Well - one mystery had been solved this morning. Ruby had apparently become best friends with the dentist’s son. There was nothing wrong with that at all. It just left me with that terrifying internal panic that I may have to see the sexy dentist more than I really needed to.

Bollocks.

Every so often, my dad’s friend Frank would bring his car into the garage for a seasonal service or it’s MOT or some other reason. I’d known Frank since I was a baby - his wife Diane was also a regular client of my mother’s and they were very close friends. My mother had always shown a kind of disdain towards Frank, and I’d only recently understood why.

“Good morning, Florence,” he knocked on the window that looked into the office at the garage.

The sound startled me a little, so when I looked up I was wide-eyed and somewhat irritated. “Oh. Hi, Frank.”

I was sure I wasn’t expecting anything from him for a while - he’d not long had his summer service. I ran my finger over the little calendar on the desk.

“I’m not due in for anything - I’ve just been hearing a few little problems with it.”

I took a moment to collect myself before I moved. I stood and faced him, noting the way he leaned against the doorframe as if he owned it. His eyes were dark and glaring and it made me squirm.

“What’s happening?” I asked, trying to keep my voice even as we moved out of the office to the garage floor.

“I don’t know, I was kind of hoping you could tell me.”

I lifted my head a little and stood in front of the car with my arms folded.

Deemed to be one of the most beautiful cars ever made, Frank owned a red Ferrari F355. He was obsessed with it, as anyone should be if they spent such an obscene amount of money on a car they barely drive. I, on the other hand, could take it or leave it. It was pretty to an extent, but the amount of problems it had weren’t worth the hassle of just owning it. Frank had had his since 1995 when they were first released, and I honestly couldn’t believe it had lasted so long. It was the only one of its kind I’d even seen, but it was notorious for its failures.

“Show me the problem, then.” I encouraged, bored of waiting.

“I was kind of hoping you’d do it.” He smirked, jiggling his keys in front of me.

I gave him a flat look. “Get in the car and start the engine, Frank.”

I half-expected a snide remark in return, but he saved me the headache today and did as I told him to.

The engine roared to life a minute later, echoing around the open garage and probably scaring the farmer across the road. I circled around the car while Frank revved the engine in a stupid and wanky manner. I was listening for any tell-tale sign of what might be wrong with it, but I couldn’t hear anything apart from just loud engine and exhaust noises.

I signalled for him to turn the engine off again and sighed.

“Well?” He asked as he got out again.

“I don’t know. I’ll have a look into it and come back to you.”

“Okay, thanks, Florence.” He smiled, and squeezed my arm.

That was why my mother didn’t like him. A squeeze on the arm from a man I’ve known since infancy might not seem like anything drastic, but he’d been known to do far worse. He was a dominating man - calling me Florence when he knew I’d always gone by Floss was just one of his many little ways to express that it was his way or no way at all. Up to this point I hadn’t had a terrible altercation with him, but I know my mother had. Mine was almost inevitable.

Frank was smart. He always came to the garage when he knew Dad wasn’t working. He knew that if he ever tried to pull anything with Dad around it would not end well, so he always visited when he wasn’t in. He also thought it was easier to charm a woman with talk about his expensive car than a man. Unfortunately for him, I knew a hell of a lot more about cars than my father did, and no amount of mechanical chat ever really impressed me.

“Will you do me our special family and friends discount?” He asked when I didn’t say anything, his hand still on my arm. He began stroking it, and I felt sick.

It was true - I had in the past naively agreed to charge him fees without labour costs because he was a family friend. Now he asked for it every time, and it constantly put me out of pocket.

“I’m not gonna agree to that until I know how much work there is to do.”

“Don’t be like that, Florence.”

“Frank, I don’t know how many problems there are with your problematic car. If it’s more than a day’s labour, I can’t really afford to go without it this time - Ruby’s birthday is coming up.”

Telling him that was a mistake, but it was already too late. I could see the newfound smarm in his eyes.

“Let me guess - she wants something extortionate like a dog.”

I might’ve been a bit thick, but I wasn’t an idiot. I knew my dad would’ve told Frank that Ruby wanted a dog in passing comment, he just liked to pretend it was a lucky guess.

“You already know she wants a dog.”

“I promise I didn’t.” He lifted his hands. “How about we make a deal? You give me the friends and family discount on whatever the car needs, and I’ll help you out in getting Ruby’s dog.”

“Or, you could just pay me the labour fees I’m owed and you don’t have to provide any money towards the dog.”

He laughed and looked away. “Come on, Florence. Loosen up a little.”

The last thing I wanted to do around that man was loosen up. “No.”

Frank huffed. “Think about it. I’ll even pay for the insurance on it.”

“No. I’m not a charity case.”

“And I didn’t mean it like that.” His voice had become soft and sweet and it was disgusting. “I’m just trying to help you out, we love Ruby.”

“Frank?”

My dad appeared on the forecourt, and I exhaled heavily. Thank fuck for that.

“Dave! What are you doing here?” He sounded jarred. I should hope so, too.

“Come to see Floss about something.” Dad said, and seemed perturbed by the question. It was an odd question, actually. Why did my dad have to explain himself for showing up at his daughter’s garage that he occasionally worked at? Come on, Frank.

“Ah, right.” He coughed. “Well,” he looked at me, “think about what I said, Florence. And let me know about the car.”

“Uh-huh.” I mumbled, but never looked at him.

Dad waited for Frank to leave before he spoke again. “I have some good news. Thought I’d tell you in person rather than on the phone.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

While Dad explained himself, I felt around the Ferrari for the bonnet lock.

“That breeder I mentioned has found a litter.”

“Where?”

He looked hesitant when I met his gaze again. “Wisbech.”

I’d never heard of it before. “Where is that?”

“Cambridgeshire.”

I lowered my head, still none the wiser.

My dad rolled his eyes. “It’s about a three-hour drive.”

I tipped my head back and sighed. “Well, I guess that serves us right for wanting to find something so bloody specific.”

My dad hummed. “He did also say that there was a litter in south Somerset with a ‘merle’ colour one.”

“What does that mean?”

“I think it’s light grey with little black spots.”

“Sounds pretty. But it’s not blue, is it?”

“No. And, if we were going to travel all the way to Taunton for a puppy, we might as well just travel to Cambridge for the one she actually wants.”

“Yeah, I think that’s fair.” I nodded.

“What’s wrong with this piece of shit, anyway?” He knocked the side of Frank’s Ferrari with his knuckle.

“I don’t actually know. It’ll probably be anything and everything that can go wrong with one, though.”

Dad laughed. “Want some help? I’ve done everything at home your mother asked me to.”

I grinned, patting his shoulder. “Sure. I need to put it on the lift because I’m almost certain there’ll be something wrong with the suspension.”

I didn’t finish Frank’s Ferrari until over a week later. I was right - there was a lot wrong with it. Suspension included. The exhaust manifold was fucked, and I’d told Frank about a year ago that he’d need to replace it sooner rather than later because it was a known issue with the model. Did he listen to me? No. Now his bill with me would afford about 10 blue Great Dane puppies. Sadly, I wasn’t taking home the full five-figure bill since most of it was going towards paying for obtaining the damn rare parts from inconvenient parts of the world.

Frank was in the garage waiting room while I finished the very last touches. Zara was in the front seat of the car while I was tightening the last bolt underneath. I rolled out and stood up; absolutely filthy, as I had been every day this week, and stuck my thumb up at Zara.

She started the engine and it finally roared to life, and I let out a long sigh of relief. I could finally get this fucker off my hands and out of my garage - and I meant Frank, not the car.

I wiped my hands on a clean cloth and went to find the old man so I could get rid of him as soon as possible.

“All done.” I said as I handed him the keys.

“Thanks.” He grunted. “Think I might have to skip out on the winter service this year, Florence. You’ve bled me dry.”

“Cars have a life expectancy, Frank. Especially expensive ones with as many problems as yours does. You’re lucky it’s survived this long.”

“I don’t control the prices of the parts.”

“Neither do I! I’ve charged you what they charged me, and that’s without shipping costs. You want to keep your shitty expensive car, you’ve got to expect to pay the bloody fees to fix it.”

“So what are you saying?”

I pulled a face. Was he really more stupid than me? “I’m saying either get rid of the thing or face the costs of it.”

“Floss,” Zara interrupted us.

I turned my gaze on her, and she was standing in the waiting room doorway with the office phone pressed to her chest. “Yeah?”

“It’s the school asking for you.”

As any parents’ would, my stomach dropped. I looked back at Frank. “It’s fixed, for now. Excuse me.” I headed towards the door and took the phone off Zara and squeezed out of the room. “Hello?”

“Good afternoon, is this Mrs Fuentes-Carter?”

I was too concerned to comment on the title error. “Yes…”

“Hello, I’m calling from the school reception.”

“Is something wrong?”

“Ruby is absolutely fine, but there was an incident at school today and Mrs Moon would like to speak to you at the end of the day if possible.”

“Incident? What kind of incident?”

“I think it would be best if Ruby’s teacher spoke to you about it.”

I sighed and looked up at the ceiling. “Okay, fine.”

An hour later I was pulling up at the school, parking in one of the few remaining spaces. Geri, Sharon and Debbie were already waiting by the gates, and I could also see the dentists’ car, but he wasn’t in it or visible outside. As I made my way across the carpark towards the school reception I gave Geri a limp wave, but I could tell by the look on her face that she didn’t understand what was happening. Actually, I didn’t understand, either.

Inside I announced myself to the receptionist, and she guided me down the hall to the right classroom. There, outside the door, the dentist was waiting with his arms folded and a concerned look on his face. I slowed my walk, noting that neither Ruby nor Oscar were waiting with him.

“What’s going on?” I asked, glancing into the classroom where the door was closed.

“No idea.” He said, aggravated and without looking at me. “That woman who runs the morning club is in there with her kid and ours.”

I frowned. “Why the fuck aren’t we in there, then?”

Before he could answer, I wrapped twice on the door and opened it without waiting. “Excuse me, what is going on?”

“Mrs Fuent-,”

“I’m not married.” I said flatly.

Mrs Moon sat back a little. Lorraine and her son were sitting on the other side of the desk facing her in plastic red chairs made for children, while Ruby and Oscar were sitting on the carpet in the far corner of the room, each reading a book.

“Miss Fuentes-Carter,” Mrs Moon tried with me again, “I’d politely ask you and Dr Styles to wait outside until-,”

“Absolutely not.” I retorted. “It is inappropriate for you to have a conversation with another parent while our children are present but we aren’t. If we leave, so do the children.”

Mrs Moon grew frustrated, but she didn’t know how to answer me.

“It’s alright, Connie.” Lorraine said calmly, and stood from her seat. “We were just finishing anyway, weren’t we?”

The teacher started again, “Um, no-,”

“We have an appointment to get to, so you can discuss the incident with Florence and the doctor.”

“Mrs Houchen, please si-,”

“Follow up with me in an email if you need to!”

We all watched as Lorraine and her well-built son breezed from the room, and it suddenly felt deathly quiet. I met Harry’s baffled gaze, and then I looked back to Mrs Moon, who seemed to be exasperated. Oscar and Ruby were still very quiet, but they were looking at us.

“I don’t mean to be rude, but what the hell is going on?” Harry demanded.

Mrs Moon pointed at the now empty chairs opposite her and rubbed her cheek. “Would you both like to sit down?”

“No.” We said simultaneously.

The teacher nodded despairingly, and stood up from her seat to perch on the edge of the desk closer to us. “I didn’t expect this all to be quite so dramatic, so I apologise. There was an incident at lunchtime and I was hoping it could be sorted in a more… calm manner than this.”

“Who is in trouble? Our children or Lorraine’s?” Harry asked, arms still folded across his chest.

“Ben Houchen claims that Ruby pushed him and Oscar hit him.”

“Excuse me?” I choked.

“I know, I know.” Mrs Moon stressed. “It’s very out of character for Ruby, I’m well aware, and for Oscar… well, I’ve never heard him raise his voice at all. Only when he’s playing football. So, I’m just as surprised as you, honestly.”

“Did anyone see it?” I asked.

The teacher shook her head. “No. At least no one wants to admit they’ve seen it.”

I screwed my face up.

“I should also add that neither Ruby nor Oscar have denied that it happened.”

I looked at my daughter as Harry did Oscar, and the look she gave back to me was blank, but I could see in her eyes she was sad about something. One thing I knew about Ruby is that she didn’t lie. She was too forthcoming to care about lying, even if she was in trouble. If she didn’t want to tell me something she simply wouldn’t, but she would never outwardly tell me that she hadn’t done something when she had. It was that reason I knew that whatever was claimed to have happened between my daughter, Oscar and Ben, it probably actually did.

“Have they said anything about what happened?” Harry asked, seeming a little calmer than me.

“They won’t say anything about the actual incident, but Ruby has told me that Ben isn’t very nice to her.”

I gritted my teeth. “Is this the first time she’s said anything about it?”

“Florence, I assure you - if I’d have known earlier that she might’ve been struggling with another student, I would’ve done something about it. I absolutely do not tolerate bullying in my classroom, or anywhere else.”

I felt emotional. I felt like a bad mother again. My eyes welled up and I tried to swallow it all away. “Ruby, come here for a second.”

My small child stood up and ran over to me. I knelt down in front of her and took her hands. “Muffin, will you tell me what’s been going on?”

She looked at me, then at Oscar, Mrs Moon and Harry each in turn and shook her head.

I stroked her face. “Why not, poppet?”

“Because you’ll be mad at me.”

“Ruby, we are not going to be mad at you for telling the truth.” Harry said softly, a lot closer behind me than I realised. “Neither of you.”

Ruby looked at Harry for a while, and then turned over her shoulder to look at Oscar again.

“In order for us to be able to get to the bottom of the issues, we need both of your help.” Mrs Moon said with her hands pressed against her thighs. “And we are not going to punish you for being honest, because what do I always say to you guys?”

“Honesty is the best policy.” Oscar muttered, staring at his lap.

“Exactly.” The teacher smiled.

“Was Ben telling the truth?” I asked, thumbing over Ruby’s cheek. “Did you push him?”

Ruby inhaled, lips pouting, and she nodded twice.

“Okay.” I took her hand and squeezed it.

“Oscar, did you hit him?” Harry followed on.

“Yeah, but only because he deserved it.”

I pressed my lips together, and I could see Mrs Moon staring at her lap, mouth a thin line.

I missed the silent communication between father and son, but in the next minute Oscar was trudging across the room. Harry placed Oscar on the table closest, and he sat cross-legged on the top of it while Harry sat against the edge next to him.

“Thank you for being honest, mate.” His voice was quiet and warm, and he rubbed his head. “What happened that the two of you felt the need to do that?”

Oscar looked at Ruby, refusing to speak again.

“Ben isn’t very nice to us.” Ruby finally admitted.

“In what way, baby?” I cooed.

“He says mean things. He says that I don’t have a daddy because mine doesn’t love me. And he says it’s funny that Oscar’s mummy isn’t here anymore and that she’s better off without him.”

I felt sick. I was on the verge of tears again, and I could see Harry’s hand visibly tighten around the edge of the table.

“Before Oscar was coming to kid’s club, Ben used to chase me around and pull my hair. I asked his mum to tell him to stop but she always just used to say that it meant he secretly liked me and he was just teasing me. But he’s never been nice to me, he’s just nasty and spiteful.

“And when Oscar started coming in the morning he stopped for a bit, and it was fun there. And then this week he started talking about Oscar’s mummy and being mean to him about it. But it was okay being at kid’s club now because even though Ben is not very nice, Oscar was still there.

“Oscar was really upset yesterday about what Ben had been saying and he’d hit him on the arm, so I said we should hit him back. Grandad always says we should hit someone back because it’s not nice.”

I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths. I’d never felt so degraded through my child before because of another parent. I didn’t know how to react - I didn’t know what to do. My baby girl was being led to believe that it wasn’t okay to not have a dad, because some horrible, nasty woman had brainwashed her child into thinking that. What kind of cruel, spiteful person do you have to be to think it’s okay to bring up your child to believe that?

I could hear Harry whispering to Oscar, and I immediately brought Ruby into my arms for a tight hug. I kissed her cheek, my tears dripping onto her skin, but I didn’t want to let her go.

“I’m so proud of you, Ruby.” I whispered.

“I love you, Mummy.” She mumbled.

“I love you, too.”

“Um,” Mrs Moon started, her voice cracking, “I’m sorry that the two of you had this happen to you in my care. I’m ashamed that I missed it, and I can assure you it will not continue. I am also really proud of both of you for telling the truth, and for standing up for yourselves. I do have to say that physical violence is not the way forward… but, you should be proud of yourselves for being honest and telling us the truth.”

“Neither of you should feel ashamed for not having another parent. And you definitely shouldn’t be made to feel that way by a bratty child who hasn’t been taught any different.” Harry said, his voice coarse. “Not having your mum or dad is not your fault. In fact, there’s no fault to have on anyone’s part. You’re both amazing children, and you should not be made to feel guilty, or lesser than, because you’ve only got one parent.”

I stared at Harry, somewhat awed by him. I wouldn’t have been able to put it as eloquently as that, but I appreciated him and that we were on the same wavelength.

We helped the children collect their belongings, said goodbye to Mrs Moon for the day, and walked through the school corridors out to the car park. Ruby clutched onto my hand the entire time, while Harry had Oscar on his hip. He looked a little big to be doing that now, but after the revelation we’d just had, I didn’t imagine Harry cared very much.

It was a bittersweet moment - one that was of course about to be tarnished by the sighting of the cause of all our problems.

Lorraine was piling things from the hut into her car, badgering Ben in the process. I thought I’d calmed down, but seeing the woman whose child made my daughter upset and did nothing about it filled me with a rage I’d never experienced before. Nothing had ever made me really angry, and this other mother was the exception.

I was about to do something so out of character, I’d terrify myself.

“Lorraine!”

I’ve got big ears!

Chapters seven & eight

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles writing #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #harry styles ff

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pillsarchive · 3 years ago

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Castlevania - Imagine Vlad Tepes giving you a private tour of the louvre at night

NOTES: Over the summer I went to the louvre in the daytime. I loved it but the heat was terrible and there were way way way too many people for my liking so I got to thinking - what if you had a cool radical vampire bf with cool radical vampire powers to break you in at night and make sure you get to really look at everything? I know he's a musuem girlie, no way he wouldn't take the time to personally explain the history of (and his personal expirience with) every object that really caught your eye.

Ignore the technicalities, I know breaking in probably wouldn't be as easy as just climbing through a skylight. He ate all the guards or something - whatever makes it more plausible.

WARNINGS: None, some happy crying but its mostly just fluff.

“How has no one asked why you’re carrying a blindfolded girl around yet? I know you have powers and stuff, but you cant glamour everyone on the streets of Paris… can - can you do that?”

Vlad nearly giggled as he held you closer to his cold body.

“Your human eardrums would split if I told you all the details - the words for some of the abilities I have cant be translated into english, im afraid.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck, smiling. He began to speak again.

“It also helps that we’re breaking in, and it’s nighttime.”

You paled and looked up at him, mouth slacking open.

“Wait what?”

“Oh dont act so shocked.”

The corners of your mouth quirked up. You could barely sit still as he held you, walking so smoothly it felt as if you were both laying down. You had asked him a million times where you were going, why a blindfold was necessary, and all he had given you so far was a smug “it’s a surprise darling, you have to be patient.”

That had never been one of your virtues.

The sound of the night and all the people walking around suddenly dulled and you felt yourself slowly begin to lift then descend into a cold room.

You clung to your boyfriends chest.

“Woa- jesus are we falling through someone’s roof?”

“No, no, I suppose now is an opportune time to tell you where we are and take your blindfold off.”

“Really?”

“Yes really, ill help you - here -”

His fingers untied the knot and the black silk ribbon fell from your eyes.

When you saw where you were you slapped your hand over your mouth, resisting the urge to cry.

“The louvre, my love. You said you’d like to see it with me but I cant go out during it’s business hours and you’ve always worried about the crowds - I figured I’d make the situation a little easier for the both of us. “

Now you felt hot tears spill out of your eyes and roll down your face in rivers. What had you ever done to deserve him? How could someone this amazing be as hopelessly in love with you as you were with him? You had always loved art and you’d tried to go to the louvre once with some friends before you’d met vlad, but the crowds made you too anxious and it was so hot in the daytime. At night the moon shone through the glass ceiling of the entrance room and refracted off of the big glass pyramid, the marble walls were cool to the touch.

Vlad noticed your tears and smiled.

“No need to cry dragul meu, think of it as your birthday present - though rest assured you will be getting much more than this. I greatly enjoy spoiling you, you realize.”

You laughed and pulled him into a tight hug, playing with his long black hair.

“How am I supposed to top this when it’s your birthday? Im thankful, but this is a lot already. The best birthday present I was expecting to receive like ever in my whole life was a car, maybe a lot of books or tickets to orlando horror nights if I got lucky.”

He smiled and ran his gloved hands over your back as he spoke.

“Trust me, my love, you give me the best present ive ever gotten - ever in thousands of years over thousands of lifetimes by being with me and loving me. After doing all the things ive done I never expected anyone that knows my face to stay with me, let alone someone i’ve been pining over for a decade. Lubitul meu.”

You pulled away from the hug and kissed him. He smiled into the kiss and cupped your face in his hands. After a while he pulled away.

“As much as Id enjoy standing with you and kissing you for the rest of the night, I want you to get as much time with your gift as you can.”

You grinned and took his hand, looking up at him.

“Can we start with the renaissance statues?”

“Of course”

You walked into the moonlit gallery, grabbing a map as you went. The museum was completely empty save for you two and you couldn’t have been happier.

#dracula #vlad tepes #castlevania #castlevania imagine #vlad dracula #vlad the impaler #dracula x reader #vlad tepes x reader #castlevania x you #castlevania x reader #fluff #no smut #he's in love #just a little guy #god i feel so weird writing imagines #cringe culture is dead but its claws still grip me

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sca-rian · 3 years ago

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home (where the heart is)

pairing: grian/scar words: 1,6k notes: i wrote this to comfort myself, and hopefully it can comfort someone else too! very silly, fluffy, kinda hurt/comfort, set in s8 after 3rd life

Scar always had a way of sneaking into people’s hearts, and, for Grian, it was especially true.

There was something about him that could not quite be put into words: perhaps it was his charming personality, or his smile, or even just the way he portrayed himself—most likely a combination of it all. It didn’t matter, though: Grian was only trying to find excuses for his affection, however, he was still far from figuring it out.

All he knew was that he loved Scar, as passionately as one could. And sometimes the way his love burnt was too much for him to take—after all, he was not as strong as he pretended to be.

He still thought about the desert and the bloodshed every time he closed his eyes and prayed to Whoever was listening to not make him do that again.

But Scar didn’t hold it against him—once they met again, in a new world, Scar smiled and laughed the same way he always had, even when Grian couldn’t be as witty or as responsive as it’d be expected of him.

Grian missed Scar more than anything, but he was terrified of breaking once he had Scar on his arms again—even if breathing and hugging back this time.

And so, for the first couple of days, he avoided being alone with Scar. Not even once. He kept his mind as occupied as it could possibly be, and ignored the growing ache on his entire body as he kept pushing himself to not think about Scar—his warmth, his touch, him.

He kept going until he couldn’t anymore, and then, he sent Scar a short message, an invitation, a plea to meet him up as soon as possible.

The sun was setting when Scar showed up at the house Grian was yet to finish, his coat hanging on one of his shoulders, hair pushed back from his forehead. And looking at him from so close again was almost a vivid dream.

“I just saw your message.” Scar breathed out. “Did something happen?”

“What—no, no it didn’t.” Grian realized his hands were slightly sweaty, and he hoped Scar didn’t notice when he rubbed them against the fabric of his pants. “I… I just wanted to see you.”

“Oh.” Scar relaxed his shoulders, and Grian just now realized he was stressed too. “I wanted to approach you before, right after we started, but—”

“I’ve been distant. I know. You shouldn’t be explaining yourself.” Grian’s hands started to fidget as he said so, and he had to fight against his urges so he could keep his eyes on Scar’s. “I missed you.”

His word hung in the air as Scar looked back at him and then stepped closer to hold one of Grian’s hands on his own, while the other was gently placed on his cheek. Grian leaned against the touch as if he could lose it at any second, even if he dared to blink for too long.

“I missed you too,” Scar said, voice unbelievably soft, and with a smile on his face. “Terribly so.”

Grian sighed and closed his eyes.

“I hope you can forgive me for what I did,” he whispered.

“I forgave you the second I gave you my sword, back on that river.” Scar wrapped his arms around Grian’s torso as he said so, pulling him closer. “I never held it against you, and you shouldn’t hold it against yourself.”

And that was enough for Grian to shed his first tear since it all happened. He knew Scar had forgiven him, just by the look in his eyes, and knew how much he wanted things to not change—but Grian couldn’t take it as easy.

Because, the other thing he knew, is that he was the catalyst. He was the one that caused everything.

“I’m sorry. It’s my fault we had to go through that—”

His voice broke midway through the sentence, and he hid his face on Scar’s chest, finding his heartbeats to be the most comforting reassurance he could ever receive. Scar’s fingers soon were in Grian’s hair, and it reminded him of being home, having a warm bed to share, and no hesitancy to get lost in each other’s touch.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to do that anymore. We’re safe.” He kissed Grian’s forehead, and it prompted him to look up, finding Scar’s caring, loving eyes watching him. “Don’t cry. You’re my everything.”

Scar kissed away the tears running down Grian’s cheeks, as he held him tightly. And Grian smiled—because Scar was always able to get those from him.

“My beautiful lovebird,” Scar whispered, as he kissed yet another spot on Grian’s face, but, frustratingly, not his lips. “Why are you so perfect?”

Grian tilted his head to the right ever so slightly, the smile on his face becoming easier to keep by each second that passed: a reflection of the butterflies in his stomach. He held back the giggle that wanted to leave his mouth, and, instead blurted out a few words, quite incomprehensible at first, until he managed to say:

"You always have a way with words, don't you?"

Scar smiled.

"I've been told I'm quite flirty."

Grian raised an eyebrow at that but smiled too.

"And may I know who you've been flirting with?"

Scar wrapped his arms around Grian's waist, pulling him closer once again.

"Oh, so many blonde avian boys… So many of them."

And then Grian was on the tip of his toes, both hands on the back of Scar's neck—and Scar instinctively leaned down, as he always did.

"I see. Weird you keep finding those."

Their noses brushed against each other—by accident, at first, but Grian did it on purpose the second time. Then Scar was leaning in closer until their lips were touching.

Grian had kissed Scar many times before, but still, each time it happened, it was more special than the previous one. The way his entire body was filled with warmth, and he could stay there for hours as if he fitted perfectly in Scar's arms.

And they never kissed only once, too—it always turned into more, until they had to stop to catch some air and smile at each other's red faces.

This time, the kiss didn't last for too long, instead, Scar let their lips part, and then pressed their foreheads against each other. He breathed in and out before he spoke:

"Can I confess something?"

"Mm?"

"When you sent me that message, earlier today," he said, his smile clear in the way he sounded. "I thought you were breaking up with me."

Grian leaned back so he could stare at Scar in disbelief. He couldn't hold back a smile, though: as he always did whenever Scar said something absurd—and it happened far more frequently than it should.

"What do you mean breaking up with you? We aren't even dating!"

"I know! But I thought you were going to say, 'Scar, I don't want you to kiss me anymore, please stop doing that'." He did his best-worst impression of Grian's voice. "And then I was going to be very, very sad."

Grian let out a genuine, loud laugh—because he would never have said that, much less in the way Scar was pretending he would.

"You'd have the other blonde avian boys—"

Scar stole a kiss from him the second Grian was about to finish his sentence.

"Don't say that, I wouldn't like them as much."

Grian thought it was quite rude to be interrupted, but he wasn't exactly going to complain, though. What he did, instead, was kiss Scar back, until they got lost in each other’s lips once more.

Eventually, Grian started to feel disappointed that his house didn't have an interior yet, much less a bed—but kissing Scar right by the front door and having him sneakily slide his hands under Grian's sweater was good enough.

This time, Grian was the one that allowed their lips to part. He looked up at Scar, searching for his eyes.

"Scar,” he called, and hesitated for a brief second before adding: “Do you think we should be dating?"

It was clear by the way his eyes widened that the question caught Scar off-guard—he stared at Grian for a full minute, mouth agape, but not much else could be taken off of his expression.

Grian was almost starting to regret asking when he smiled.

"I mean, I don't know! Would that change anything besides having you call me your boyfriend?” He moved one of his hands from Grian’s waist to fix a lock of his hair. "Besides, you can already call me whatever you want."

"Fine. I'll call you my wife, then."

Scar giggled, and embraced Grian once again.

“I don’t see a problem with that.” He kissed Grian’s forehead. “But if you asked me out, I wouldn’t say no.”

“I know, you deny things to me far less than you should.” He hummed contently against Scar’s chest, once the latter started ti gently caress his hair. “I might consider it, maybe do something grand and dramatic.”

When Scar spoke, the smile in his voice was noticeable even to someone that knew him less than Grian did:

“As long as it was from you, I’d accept anything.” He gently moved his hands up Grian’s back, then down again. “Because I really, really love you.”

Grian smiled, and his eyes started watering again, because he was finally back home.

“I really, really love you too.”

#boli writes #back at my gay agenda #hermitshipping #trafficshipping #hermitcraft #grian #desert duo #gtwscar #goodtimeswithscar #scarian #fanfic

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munsnz · 4 years ago

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Safe With Me — Will Byers

Warnings: Angst, Cussing ??

Summary: You have a crush on Will and you were being forgotten in the party until Will comes and tells you the news about how the Mind Flayer is back after last year. You are clearly upset but how will this resolve?

Lydinous Radio: Somebody That I Used To Know — Gotye

Masterlist — Requests Open !

You were very fretful due to the whole situation of the love of your life, Will Byers. He didn’t know that yet. You loved Will since he came back from the Upside Down, it was the moment you realized that you did actually like him. Such an intelligent and interesting boy he was, you became great friends with him although Mike wasn’t so fond about it. The party loved you, but you weren’t as present when the Mindflayer was inside Will. You were with Steve, Max, Dustin, and Lucas fighting the Demodogs, after witnessing such horror you were scared for Will. Everything had a great outcome, and after that fiasco, you two became closer friends.

You were huddled in a blanket on a rainy night, you haven’t heard much of the party, in fact, it seemed like they forgot about you. Eleven and Max were at the mall while the boys were probably playing D&D. You were alone, forgotten, scared, where was your best friend? Why would your friends ditch you? That was all that went through your mind. Hearing the rain pouring, made you cry a little harder, maybe you could call Joyce. No, Will would notice your crush on him. You, Y/N L/N had never cared for anyone so much like Will Byers. He was your everything, the reason why you woke up everyday to see him or at least say hi. You decided to go look for him, but it was getting dark.

You walked in front of the porch, you saw Reggie, your dog, stand upon you, making you pet him. You watched the cars splash into the rain, more tears flowed like a river, sending a stream down your cheeks. Your heart ached for a friend, somebody, or even your worst enemy. Lonely feelings weren’t the best, you had been very dependent these past days, but no one was around.

Suddenly, you began to hear someone walking towards you, it was hard to define the tall figure. You saw someone familiar, your heart skipped a beat to find Will running towards you. ”Will!” That was all you could say before he ran into your arms, sobbing.

”I’m sorry Y/N,” He cried out, his long arms wrapping around your small figure, “I destroyed everything, our friendship is broken.”

Hearing those words made you look up at him.... flushed with a small anger of why he just came to check on you, “Will, why do you need me? I thought you forgot about me. Go off with Mike and maybe Max, she’ll make you happy for sure.”

”Are you kidding? Your amazing,” He whimpered, holding you tighter in the rain, “I wouldn’t be with Max, why would I?”

”You like her, now leave me alone, all you do is gonna carry me around because I’m the last resort,” You let go of the hug, “You chose them, people who grew up without you Will! I was here waiting for you to come by, but you made me feel like shit.”

The words you told him, brought silence into the air, he just looked down in guilt, realizing the slight pain that he caused in you. Your face softens, you were put into a heartfelt of emotions. Slowly, he began to speak up, “It’s my mistake, I’m just a really bad friend. We ignored someone so special and amazing like you. I don’t know why I left you out, why everyone left you out.”

You felt his warm arms around you again, you felt cared for, for once, the love in it as friends was so welcoming to you. “I-I don’t understand, why are you like this? Why are you coming to me just now?”

”This is important Y/N-“

”NO WILL I DON’T WANT TO HEAR IT!”

”I-I felt him.”

Your heart dropped, the words made your skin turn into goosebumps and feeling a dizzy sensation, he knew everyone was in grave danger, you were scared. You didn’t want to loose him again. Not again, he was so special to you. Loosing him would tear your world apart, “Will............... I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to I-“

”I love you?” Was all he could say to you, “I know this is rushed, I know I just came to you.”

”Did you tell the party?”

“No, I came to look for you Y/N. I’m scared, we’re in danger, but we have to fight. But you’re always going to be safe with me Y/N. I’ve liked you before I met you, everytime I saw you walk past me, gave me butterflies. I’m so out of your league I know, I’ve never felt this with anyone. I love you.”

“Will...........” You couldn’t say anything back until his lips met yours, bringing you close to him. Your lips connected so well, they were almost perfect. You had never had your first kiss, but this felt so familiar to you, like it was made for you. Letting go, you pressed your forehead against his, “I love you too.”

You two chuckled at the exchange of words. Hugging and then agreed to let the others know about the tingling sensation. Running through the street, hand in hand, finding Castle Byers. You saw Castle Byers was destroyed, somewhere you two bonded over.

“What did you do?” Your heart broke at the sight, seeing Will tear up a little.

”Guess my friends never really cared, all they do is swapping spit with some girl,” He grunted, kneeling down, “And no, not you because even though I love you, you’ve been there for me although I’ve been a terrible friend.”

You kneeled next to him, “Look, I understand, I’ve been left out with El and Max. I know how it feels, but at least we got each other.”

He nodded and heard footsteps behind you two, you found Mike and Lucas. Will turned around to find them too.

”He’s here.” Alarming them about the Mindflayer, it was back.

These events from now and on were going to be hectic, dangerous, worrisome, yet hopeful for the future of Hawkins. But you two knew something for sure that you were going to be safe in each other’s hands. Yet, there was other danger lying ahead, everyone was going to get through it. You were safe with him, you were safe with Will Byers.

#Stranger things #Will byers #eleven #max #will byers x reader #fem!reader #Stranger things x reader #angst #fluff #will Byers oneshot #mileven #byler #lumax #lucas sinclair #Stranger things oneshot

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somewhatgreatexpectations · 4 years ago

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Leave Your Lover (Wanda Maximoff/ Reader)

Hello! So, this was going to be one really long part, but it kind of got away from me and I had to split it into two. Don’t worry the next part is going to be very long either way because that’s the half that got away from me. This takes place pre-Infinity War. Inspired by Sam Smith’s “Leave Your Lover”, mainly the line featured.

Summary: A brief glimpse into life on the run. Will Wanda be able to find Y/n?

“If I can't have you I'll walk this life alone, spare you the rising storms and let the rivers flow.”

Being on the run was difficult to say the least and being on the run while trying to find someone who was actively trying not to be found was even worse. Despite being told by the rest of the group that it may be in her best interest to just move on and let you go, Wanda knew that wasn’t an option. She had made a promise to herself that she was going to keep fighting for you, no matter the cost. Wanda had let you go once and she wasn’t going to let it happen, not if there was a part of her that knew you still had love in your heart for her.

The only one who knew where you were at all times was Steve and he had spent the last few months absolutely refusing to disclose your exact location. That never stopped her from trying though.

Eventually though, he gave in. Steve wasn’t sure if it was her sheer determination that impressed him or the fact that he had never seen you happier than when you were with her. If she thought she could create happiness in a terrible situation, Steve thought she at least deserved a true chance and he wouldn’t stand in the way.

When she received the location, Wanda quickly packed what little she had and booked the next train ticket to Rennes, France. Feeling hopeful for the first time since long before the events of Lagos. _________________________________

For the majority of the time you’d been on the run, you stuck to the idea that hiding in plain sight was the best course of action. Which is why you were currently at a poorly lit bar, trying to live as normal a life as you possibly could under the circumstances. The only unfortunate thing was that you couldn’t interact with anyone due to the risk of being discovered. So, when you felt someone tap your shoulder, you knew it would be time to go.

Before turning, you downed your drink to prepare yourself to either get hit on by a random drunk person or convince them you weren’t who they thought you were.

Neither options were what you got when you turned around though. You tilted your head in pleasant surprise at the sight before you.

“Long time no see, stranger.”

Without thinking and perhaps partially due to the alcohol coursing through your veins, you wrapped yourself tightly around the woman in front of you. She laughed in surprise and gladly returned the embrace. You couldn’t help but revel in the contact, touch deprived from all the time you had spent in solitude.

For a while, you both just stood there, wrapped in one another’s embrace. Ignoring the occasional odd look from random passer byers. With one final squeeze, you released her but kept your hands on her shoulders. “You have no idea how good it is to see you, Nat.” you admitted to her with a smile on your face.

Natasha easily returned the smile. “It’s good to see you too. I was passing by outside when I thought I saw you sitting here and I had to see if it was really you.”

“What are the chances?” you asked with a laugh as you signaled the bartender over and ordered drinks. “Let’s celebrate.”

After drinking for a bit and catching up slightly, you both agreed that staying longer would be too much a risk and decided to take a walk outside.

“You dyed your hair.” You noted as you reached over and took a strand of her hair gently in between your fingers before letting it go. “It looks good.”

A playful smirk spread across Natasha’s lips. “Yeah, well, I figured the red was a dead giveaway for me, so… blonde it was.” She nudged you playfully. “A better disguise than a beanie and glasses at least. You’re no better than Rogers.”

A boisterous laugh escaped your lips, “What can I say? That man taught me everything I know.” Natasha shook her head but laughed despite herself.

You knew you would have to separate soon, but you tried not to focus on that. The pair of you walked in contented silence, enjoying the comfort of not being alone, even if it was temporarily. Eventually you both come up on the street where your hideout was located and for the first time you didn’t feel the need to rush in. Thankfully there was a small bench located across the street and you both wandered over and took a seat, enjoying the cool air.

“How have you been?” Natasha eventually asked, her eyes on yours as she attempted to analyze you.

You pondered the question for a moment. “I’ve been… lonely.” You finally breathed out, turning your gaze skyward. “I feel alone. I miss real connections. I miss just being able to walk down the street without fear of corporal punishment. I miss human contact.”

Natasha’s hand fell to your knee and squeezed lightly. You turned your head to meet her eyes. “I know what you mean. You’re never really alone though, Y/n. You know we’d all be there in a heartbeat if we could, if we have to.”

The touch and the knowledge that you weren’t alone was something you had missed. Again, whether it was the alcohol in both your systems or the deprivation of another human’s touch, but you both found yourselves leaning forward and connecting lips.

It was gentle and nice, but you couldn’t help but compare it to Wanda. Kissing Wanda always felt powerful and right. The way your whole body felt like electricity was coursing through your veins at the simplest of touches. Kissing Wanda always felt like coming home. You could’t help but think you needed this to realize that the one you still wanted was the one you shouldn’t want.

Despite this, you didn’t pull away, tangling your hand in Natasha’s now blonde locks as her hands fell to your waist. You allowed yourself this small moment of comfort.

Across the street, Wanda had been approaching only to stop in horror at the sight before her. Her mind rushing and heart breaking at the sight. If she felt a fraction of what you did that night on the roof, she couldn’t imagine how you got through it. As much as her heart ached in her chest, she didn’t allow it to stop her. She just hoped it wasn’t too late. That you hadn’t already given your heart to another.

After some time, both you and Natasha pulled away. Laughing when you met one another’s eyes. “That was… nice.” You said lightly.

Natasha rolled her eyes and pushed your shoulder. “Yeah, we’re drunk. We will never speak of this again.” She chuckled and looked at her watch. “My train leaves in a little over an hour, I should probably go.” You nodded in understanding and she hugged you once more before beginning to walk away.

“Hey, Nat?” you called after her. She turned. “Take care of yourself, okay?” She nodded and blew a teasing kiss your way before walking off into the night. With a sigh you leaned into the bench and closed your eyes for a moment, taking in the fact that you were alone again.

It had to have been less than a few minutes when you felt someone sit next to you, your eyes shot open and met with stunning emerald eyes that used to be your world. “Wanda?” you whispered, feeling the air leave your lungs at the sight of her.

Wanda quirked her lips up slightly, but there was melancholy in her eyes. “So, you and Nat, huh?” There was no accusation in her tone, just sadness. Possibly even acceptance. You quickly realized that she must have seen the kiss.

“And if we are? Together, I mean. What will you do?” You probed challengingly.

Pain flooded her eyes as she dropped her gaze to her lap. “Nothing. I’m not going to interfere if you’re happy, but… but just know that I won’t stop fighting for you. I’ll be here waiting because our love is destined and I’m not going away. I’ll still love you even if you chose to love someone else. You have all of me. Always.” She paused slightly. “You are my only direction.” She added quietly, repeating the words you once told her back to you.

Your heart clenched at the referenced moment, of one of your formerly favorite moments.

Staring off into the distance, you could feel the numbness begin to fade as the alcohol started to leave your system. “Why?”

She lifted her gaze up to you curiously, but you didn’t meet her eyes. “Why what?”

“Why do you keep trying?”

Wanda took a deep breath and turned so she was facing you completely even if you wouldn’t look at her. “Love.” She stated simply, “I’m in love with you, beyond all rationality. Even if you don’t believe me. I want you to have everything you want, even if its Nat, even if that destroys me.”

Even in Spain you had never heard her speak so passionately. It terrified you. Terrified you so much that you wanted to get up and run far, far away from her. Far from the feelings that her words stirred within you.

Wanda wasn’t done though, she needed to get everything off her chest. To lay all her cards out. “When you love someone, you don’t stop. Even when everyone on the team calls me crazy and tells me I should just move on and let you go. I won’t stop or give up because if I could give up…” She risked taking your hand in hers, sighing in relief when you don’t pull back. “If I could give up and listen to everyone’s advice and move on and find someone else that wouldn’t be love. That would be some imitation that is not worth fighting for.”

“Wanda…” you whispered finally looking up at her, noticing the way her eyes shined with unshed tears.

She squeezed your hand again. “But you… You are more than worth fighting for. You will always be worth fighting for. And if I can’t have you I’ll be alone because no one else can hold my heart. This is love.”

“I’m not with Natasha.” You admitted softly after Wanda’s declaration, watching the way relief filled her eyes. “I think we were both just lonely and comforting each other.”

The relieved smile that took over Wanda’s features was contagious as you couldn’t help but smile hesitantly back at her.

Wanda’s heart fluttered at the sight. That was the first time you had smiled at her since the night on the roof.

“What does that mean?” she questioned hopefully.

With hesitation, you interlaced your fingers with Wanda’s. “It means that I’m still not sure I trust you and I’m not ready to be with you again.” Her head dropped in dejection. “But. I’m not going to ask you to leave if you want to stay and work on that.”

For the first time in a long time, Wanda felt a semblance of happiness blossom in her chest. Unable to stop herself, she surged forward and took you in her arms, melting when you held her back. “I promise I’ll earn your trust back. I’m not going anywhere. I’d follow you to the ends of the earth, Y/n.”

Part 10! double digits! Pre-Infinity War and Infinity war was supposed to be one chapter and in hindsight that was probably overly ambitious of me. That means there will now be 13 parts instead of 12. Anyway, as always let me know what you think, and hope you enjoyed! :)

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximov #wanda marvel #wanda #wandavision x reader #wandavision #wanda x you #wanda x y/n #wanda x reader #mcu x y/n #mcu x reader #wanda mcu #avengers x y/n #avengers x you

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greenygreenland · 4 years ago

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What I'd Do For You:

-imagine Roy as your adoptive father

-he'd be so flawed but he'd try his hardest

-I write for females because that's what I'm most comfortable with, but it's not too prominent (please don't be offended! It's only what I'm comfortable with!)

Summary: You're feeling down. Roy's here to help.

Today was nothing short of a bad day. It poured as soon as you stepped out of the house, and before you could grab your umbrella, you realised you were going to be late. Not long after, you ran straight into Ed and Al, who both ignored you in favour of chasing some guy down the street.

Whatever, you told yourself. Not like I needed a 'hi' from my best friends anyway.

Not long after, a car zoomed by and splashed muddy water at you. If it weren't for the rain, you'd be caked in the stuff. As you continued down the street, some guy thought it would be fun to mug you. Of course, when he found out you were a state alchemist, he made a run for it. But that didn't make you feel better, not when there were people staring at you like you were a nuisance.

What did you ever do to them anyway? Maybe it was just the fact today was a terrible Monday afternoon.

When you got to Roy's office, your clothes were sopping wet, your hair a matted mess, and your heart, very much hardened and cold. You softly closed the door behind you. There was no point in slamming it when you didn't have the energy to be angry in the first place.

"(Y/n)?" Roy stared at you incredulously. "What happened to you?" You pointed to the window.. The pouring rain and gray clouds were enough of an answer. "Everything happened, that's what." He raised a brow with a short sigh. "'Everything' is quite vague, don't you think?" He stood and made his way to a cabinet. From seemingly nowhere, he found a towel and threw it at you.

"Thanks Roy." You ran it through your hair and placed it on the couch to sit on. It was just as wet as your clothes, but it wasn't like anyone had a blow dryer on hand. Roy took a seat across from you on the opposing couch. "Care to tell me what happened today?"

You thought back to the Elric brothers, then the mugging and everything else you had to go through today. Roy listened intently. "Why did you leave the house so late?" he inquired. "You could have been here at eight o'clock sharp if you hadn't been up all night reading. Then you could have avoided that mugger, the rain, and everything in between." You huffed. "So what? Changing one thing wouldn’t change the day. And besides, it was a good book. What else was I supposed to do?"

"Put it down." Roy plainly offered. "Save that 'last page' for tomorrow, or better yet, sleep before three in the morning." You didn't like the way he was looking at you, as if he were deciding on whether he should be disappointed, frustrated, or annoyed with you. But bad habits died hard. It wasn't easy to break out of those cycles.

You leaned back into the couch. Defeat crossed your eyes, and that was when Roy realized how tired you looked. It wasn't because of your constant travels, or the fact that Edward and Alphonse ignored you completely (he'd give them a piece of his mind later on), but because you were burnt out.

And maybe feeling a bit down.

"You've been studying a lot." Roy stated. You didn't need him to point out the obvious. It was no secret you were doing your best to help the Elric brothers on their journey towards finding their bodies. "Have you found anything useful?" You shook your head with a tight frown. There was so much you needed to work out, so many variables that didn't add up, and so many frauds you needed to uncover.

"Whenever we're close," you mumbled, "our goal keeps getting farther away. Sometimes I feel so useless while Ed and Al go off on their own accord. I just...I don't know." Your shoulders slumped and Roy's heart began to ache. "It's so hard, and I'm really..." A sigh escaped your lips.

"Tired?" Roy finished. He knew that look well, the one where your eyes darkened with clouds and you looked like you wanted to scream when you couldn't. Long ago, he had the same look. Silently, he swore he'd never do it again. At least, not when you were around.

Seeing that same look on your face made him sick to the stomach. "Take a day off," he started. "The Lieutenant is here so don't worry. As for the Elric brothers, I don't think they'll need your help now. They’re fine as is if you ask me." Roy winced at his words. He didn't mean to make it sound like you were unwanted. In fact, he wouldn't do that even if he was paid.

"Maybe I'm not needed by them anymore.” you concluded. “They're busy anyway, so they won't miss me. It’s been weeks since we last talked actually. And besides, Ed’s really great at everything he does. Same with Al. They’re skilled, smart, everything I’m not." You smiled and it was a bit watery.

Roy's lips parted. No, no, no, that wasn't what he meant. The urge to punch himself in the face was overwhelming. Why was he so bad at wording things?

You stood and folded the wet towel. "I'll take the day off. I'm not sure what I'll do though."

"Wait--"

"If you need me, I'll be around the block somewhere." You looked like you were about to cry, and all Roy could do was watch. He wanted to say something, but what if he made it worse? Saying 'Don't cry!' wasn't exactly comforting, and by the looks of it, you weren't in the mood to talk anything through.

A forced smile made its way to your lips. "I'll be back later Roy."

And just like that, you were gone. The door closed shut with a small click, leaving Roy alone in the quiet office. He stared at the phone on his desk tensely. Hughes was good with people, and he knew how to talk to (Y/n) better than most. If Roy called then maybe...

No. Why should he have to rely on Maes? This was (Y/n). He could deal with his daughter just fine. "Teenagers." He found himself making his way to the phone "Why are they so hard to understand?” The familiar beeping sounded on the other end as he dialed the number.

“Hello, could you connect me to Maes Hughes?”

-----

The lone bench you took refuge on was lonely. But you were fine with that. Here, no one could see you through all the pouring rain and darkened clouds. As your tears mixed in with the cold droplets, you stared into the far off distance. The trees swayed in the occasional breeze and you shivered.

Maybe you should have brought a coat.

Suddenly, the rain stopped pounding against your head. Your dampened hair had rivers flowing down it, and the tears that quietly came to a stop left your cheeks with stains.

“So this is where you’ve been,” a voice calmly said. You didn’t need to look up to know who it was. Why, after an hour, did he come looking for you in the rain? It wasn’t like it mattered. Roy settled by your side, the umbrella hovering above. “Here,” he handed you your coat, “you’re shivering.”

You pushed the coat away with a shake of your head. “I don’t need it.” There was a crack in your voice you covered with a cough. If Roy noticed or not, he didn’t show it. Instead, he helped you put on the coat. “It would be inconvenient if you were sick,” he decided. “How are you supposed to help the Elrics with a cold?”

That didn’t matter. The Elrics were busy for all you cared, and it wasn’t like they needed you anyway. “I’m dead weight, dad.” The words made your eyes sting again. “They don’t-t-they don’t need me.”

“And why is that?” Roy’s gentle tone made the tears fall fast. “Because, dad, I’m useless. Edward’s so much better at everything. He--he’s always saving the day and figuring out all of this country’s problem’s. And...and when I try to help, I always mess it up.”

You thought back to earlier today, where you bumped into the boys spontaneously. They might’ve been busy, but they blatantly ignored you. And the fact that they hadn’t called all week made you worry. Had you done something wrong? No, maybe they didn’t care for you anymore because you were so useless.

“I...I don’t know what to do.” With the umbrella over your head, Roy saw every tear as clear as day. He watched your shoulders tense and your fists clench into tight fists. You were trying to stop crying, but the tears kept coming and coming like a river.

How useless of you.

“Come here.” You didn't want Roy to see your face. “Come here,” he repeated. You hesitantly scooted closer to him on the soaking bench. He held the umbrella in his left hand and pulled you close with his other. When was the last time he actually hugged you like this? He couldn’t remember, and that made him feel guilty.

Was it his fault that you thought so lowly of yourself? Maybe he should have been more adamant on showing how proud he was of your accomplishments. Becoming a State Alchemist at this age was more than a simple privilege. It was a precedent that no generation had ever seen in their lives.

“Why do you compare yourself to Fullmetal?” he inquired, rubbing your arm comfortingly. “He’s not you.”

“But he’s better than me and I can’t measure up to him.” Roy shook his head dismissively. For a moment, you wondered you disappointed him. “It doesn’t matter what Fullmetal is, (Y/n). He’s strong, I admit, but the most hot-headed kid I’ve ever met. Unlike him out, you never let emotions blind your choices. That’s something Fullmetal can’t do. As for strength, you don’t need that.”

He smiled a little and it was so warm. It wasn’t everyday you got to see this side of Roy. He was always caught up in paperwork, plans, and looking after what he worked so hard to accomplish. “You have enough wits to outsmart me. Remember that time Fullmetal challenged me to a match?”

You nodded. “I joined because I didn’t think he could handle it. Ed didn’t want my help, but I ended up coming along anyway.” A smug smirk made its way up Roy’s lips. “And who lasted the longest?”

“Me.”

“And why was that?”

"Because I read your attack patterns?" You uncertainly replied. Roy frowned. "Say it like you mean it."

"Because I read your attack patterns." you repeated. An approving look made its way up your dad's face. "Exactly. Fullmetal has wit, but you are a much more terrifying opponent." You sniffled with a huff. "I'm not--I'm not even close to your level."

"You don't have to be." Roy turned his gaze to the pouring rain, as if he were thinking about how useless his alchemy would be. "If you believed in yourself more, then you will advance farther than you've already come."

That wasn't true. How could you believe in yourself when you felt like an absolute failure? It didn't matter how many successes you've had in the past, because what if they were all flukes? Some day, your luck would run out. Then you'd let your dad down, along with Ed and Al and Hawkeye and Uncle Maes and everyone else you knew.

"You're not a failure, if that's what you're thinking." Roy blurted out. "I couldn't be more proud of how far you've come. The day I met you, I thought I'd fail you. Look where we are now." He laughed a little and it made you relax in his hold. "If you were a failure, you wouldn't have become a reowned State Alchemist. You wouldn't have survived in the most dire times either, and you wouldn't have made me so proud of you."

Your eyes widened. Had you heard him right? You had to be hearing things. Roy met your gaze and smiled warmly. "Yes, I'm proud of you. Why wouldn't I be?" For a moment, you remained still. The gears in your head churned like clockwork, dissecting and rewinding the words Roy had spoken. You tentatively wrapped your arms around Roy's middle.

Yes, I'm proud of you.

You buried your head into his shoulder.

Why wouldn't I be?

And then you cried. Today was nothing short of a bad day, but if you hadn't forgotten your umbrella, gotten ignored by the Elrics, nearly mugged, or showed up late, then you wouldn't have been able to hear those words and the silent I love you's.

IF YOU LIKE THIS, PLEASE REBLOG (IT HELPS ME OUT SOOOO MUCH AS A WRITER!)

#fullmetal alchemist #fullmetal alchimist brotherhood #fullmetal alchemist x reader #roy mustang #roy mustang x reader #platonic #fmab roy #fmab fanfiction #fma fanfiction #fma #fmab #anime x reader #anime fanfic #sorry i'm on mobile #forgive me

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bokettochild · 3 years ago

Note

Ooh for a fluff piece you should do Hyrule and Warriors and something with claustrophobia (although that has the potential for angst real fast so feel free to ignore me)

Oops, I think my hand slipped.....

(Sorry I didn't get to this for so long, I've been crazy busy and wasn't sure how to approach writing angst until people apparently started crying at my attempt at crack :)

Glass.

Glass walls and a glass floor. A cork ceiling and too little air, too little space to breathe, too little space to function.

Hyrule’s breath hitches again with a silent whimper, his glow fading slowly with every second spent inside of his prison. Outside, he can hear the reverberating shouts of the others, fear and worry in their voices as they call out, likely shouting for him, looking and worrying and screaming in concern.

‘I’m right here!’ He wants to call back, wants to wail to the glass walls that press closer and closer around him. ‘Guys, I’m here, let me out!’ But they won’t hear. They won’t hear his tiny voice, especially not when it’s trapped inside this glass prison.

“Any sign?” The vet’s voice is strained and desperate, violet eyes flickering with fear as they dart from one tired Hero of Courage to another. “He’s got to be here somewhere!”

“Nothing.” There are tears in Sky’s eyes, and even if he’s clearly trying to be strong for the others there’s a heavy slump to his shoulders as if the weight of all of their problems hangs from them. “Twilight and I looked all over, his trail just...ends...”

“He’s got to be somewhere!” Wind protests, voice breaking and fists clenching as the sailor looks over each of them, fear and worry in the kid’s eyes as he stubbornly denies the report Twilight gently gives the rest of them.

It’s not a pretty sight.

Hyrule had only wandered off for a minute while they’d all freshened up in the stream near their camp, but that was all the time needed for him to disappear, tracks ending suddenly and no sign of him, not even a droplet of blood or a broken blade of grass left behind for them to track him with. It was Four who noticed, and while jokes and laughter had sounded as they all teased each other about the Traveler getting lost, the jokes had faded when Twilight had come back, eyes shining with worry as he informed them of Hyrule’s lack of a trail.

All mirth had died then, and eight dripping heroes had abandoned all save their weapons to search for their brother. Their cheeks redden in the cooling night air, Four sneezing occasionally as he pulls his tunic over his head while they speak. None of the others bother, standing about in all states of dress as they consider what to do.

“We’ve searched everything within two miles.” Wild murmurs pensively. “And there’s only one trail, even Hyrule can’t cover his tracks so well that Twilight can’t find him.”

“But I can’t find him, Cub.” Twilight’s voice is almost a whine, eyes pained as the rancher sits with his head in his hands. “There’s no signs! It’s like he just, vanished!”

Time’s heavy hand comes to rest on his protégé's shoulders, rubbing gently over them in an attempt at comfort that Twilight shows no interest in accepting.

They’re worn, Warriors sighs to himself. His brothers have been pushing themselves for weeks and today was meant to be a day of rest and rejuvenation beside the river. But here they sit, worry carving lines across the faces of even their youngest, shoulders drawn up close to ears or slumped in resignation. It’s been hours, Hyrule should be back by now.

Sky’s tired gaze meets his own over the heads of the younger heroes, there’s determination fighting against reassignment inside of sapphire blue, but Sky forces a weak smile for his sake, silent words passing between the two before both nod in finality. “There’s no sign-”

“We know that Sky!” The vet snaps, hands buried in his still dripping hair. “Twilight, you have your things, right?” The vet asks pointedly, breath hitching and coming in short little bursts as he looks up to the rancher.

Twilight nods, dropping one hand to tug at something hidden under his collar “Yeah.”

“Does Hyrule has any items that let him fly? Oh Nayru! I should have asked him!” The vet’s panicking now, and it’s agitating the younger heroes as his feet tap nervously at the ground, hands shaking as they run repeatedly through his bangs and tap against his thighs.

Wind’s worrying at the hem of his tunic and Wild scratches at his scars, and Warriors has no doubt that if Four wasn’t shivering and wrapping himself in his arms that the smithy would also be fidgeting nervously.

Sky sighs heavily, grabbing his sailcloth from the ground and wrapping it around the smithy’s shoulders carefully. “Like I said, there’s no sign so far. But we have to trust in Hyrule’s abilities. The traveler’s a tough egg, he doesn’t break easily and he knows what he’s doing in a forest, especially a dangerous one.” The Skyloftian shoots Legend a pointed glance, cutting off the young veteran before he can start fussing again. “It’s getting dark and we won’t be able to see, and if we’re too loud and keep disturbing the forest, we’ll only alert any monsters that might be around here to our presence. We’ll make camp here for the night and keep looking in the morning, after everyone has a warm meal.”

“He’s out there!” Legend insists.

“And he’s strong. I can’t help Hyrule right now, none of us can, not in this darkness. But I can make sure you all rest and get something to eat.” Sky’s voice gentles as he lays a hand on Legend’s bare shoulder. “We’ll find him, Bun, have a little faith in the traveler.”

The vet looks instants away from protesting, from shouting something harsh that he probably doesn’t mean. He’s worried, they all are, but Legend responds worst of all of them to injury or illness, and his protégé going missing doesn’t seem to be an exception.

It’s Time’s voice that cuts through the tension, face stern as he meets the veteran’s eyes. “Rest. We’re no good to Hyrule if we can’t walk a straight line. Cub,” Wild’s ears prick forwards, attentive and eager for orders. The little soldier shows his training, even though he might not remember it; eager for a task to complete to distract from the tension, needing a job to focus on instead of his own spiraling thoughts. It draws a tiny smile to Warriors’ face as he watches. “Could you mix up something warm for everyone? We’ll eat and head to bed, Sky and I can take first watch, Warriors and Wild will have second,” Always best to put the two war heroes together on second watch, less chance of waking the others with their nightmares. “And Twilight and Four can take second.”

Again, Legend looks like he might protest, but their leader fixes him with a stern look. “Vet, try to sleep, please.”

Little chance of that, he muses, watching as the vet huffs and kicks at the dirt, Legend’s a worrier, even if he would never admit it, and if anyone’s going to be up all night long fussing and fidgeting, it’ll be him. What Warriors wouldn’t give to pull Ravio along just this once so that the merchant can calm their friend, he doesn’t know how he does it, but Ravio and Hyrule both have a magic touch when dealing with the ornery teenager.

“Help me get Four settled.” Sky nudges Legend’s shoulder gently. “But get dressed first.”

Tasks. That’s right, give everyone something to do to take their mind off of worrying and running wild with imaginings that will only fuel anxiety and nightmares.

“Wind,” The sailor turns to him with pinched brows, but the kid calms significantly at the sound of his captain voice. “How about you and Twilight gather some wood for a fire? Time, will you scout the borders with me while the others prep camp?”

Mentor and protégé both nod; taking the orders that come easily to his mind, the rancher pulling on his wolf pelt and melting into the forest with Wind at his heels, and Time grabbing his sword and shield and coming to follow at his side.

“Thanks for stepping up.” The older man hums, gaze strained but warm as he offers a small quirk of the lips. “You and Sky both.”

He claps the other man on the shoulder, thankful in part that Time hasn’t donned his heavy armor, thus allowing him to avoid destroying his knuckles. “That’s my job, Sprout. Besides, you had your hands full with a sad puppy.”

Time shakes his head with a soft chuckle, but Warriors counts it as a win.

If Legend was bad the night Hyrule went missing, he’s terrible when the portal sweeps over them midway through their attempts to find his protégé, and the vet’s full-on panicking once they’ve all stopped feeling woozy and sick. He’s not the only one; Wind is almost crying, the poor kids so overwhelmed, and Wild’s agitated behavior has spiked to a full blown manic as he investigates the land around them.

It’s all the three eldest heroes can do to try and keep the younger ones calm, and while Twilight tags along with Wild to scout the area, Time bundles up a shivering and sneezing Four into his arms with a soft hum, hands dragging through the smithy’s long hair carefully.

“Cold?” He calls over to the two.

Time nods. “Probably.”

They should have taken more care to dry off before starting their search.

While Sky attempts to calm Legend, simultaneously holding Wind close to himself and offering one of his Big Brother Hugs to the sailor, Warriors takes care to check their things over and make sure nothing has been left behind.

Wild’s things are nearly always in his slate. Twilight and Time have their bags on hand, but the younger ones and Sky all have plenty to ensure is still in order, and he makes extra sure to check that the potions and fairies they have are all in order and that the bottle haven’t broken during the tumbling of the switch.

There’s light again.

Hyrule whimpers as it floods over him, tucking himself closer to the base of the bottle as large hands rummage around.

His glass prison tilts and swings, but the traveler can only tumble around within, pained hisses escaping him as he fights nausea that he can only assume is from some kind of switch.

It’s Warriors’ blue gloved hand that has his bottle, and hope flutters softly alongside iridescent wings as Hyrule silently prays that the captain will open it. They’ve been looking for him, right? Maybe Warriors figured out his mistake! Maybe he realized that Hyrule isn’t your average healing fairy and has decided to let him go again!

Oh, please let it be so! He won’t burn the captain’s bug-net after all if the man will just let him out!!!

The bottle settles again, and a blue gloved hand withdraws, leaving Hyrule lying on the floor of his bottle, the glass walls and stuffy air of the bag pressing in around him as another miserable whimper escapes him.

The bag he’s trapped in is flipped closed, and he’s plunged again into darkness.

Someone get a fairy!” Legend shrieks, the vet’s panic over the last few hours heightened as his blood soaked hands press against the wound in Time’s side.

Twilight’s face is pale from where he sits supporting his mentor’s head, blood splattering his face and Time’s own as the older man chokes and wheezes, blood bubbling up from between his lips as Legend and Four both work like mad-men to try and tend their leader’s wounds.

It was a freak attack. No one saw it coming, not with how out of it they all were, and there was no time to stop it when the hinox had come rumbling through the forest with ‘blins scurrying about at its feet.

As per Legend and Warriors’ instructions, the heroes had worked to bring down the smaller enemies first, slashing and skewering while the black blood of their enemies gushed out over their blades and darting forms. The ‘blins are hard to beat, as are all the black blooded monsters, but it's become a struggle they’re accustomed too, and the heroes each dart in and out of the battle with the sort of grace of people that are accustomed to battling together and against dangers of all sort.

There’s a flaw in the system though, as they’re short one member, and while Legend and Hyrule usually fight back-to-back, with Four and Wind close at hand, the traveler is gone, and it throws off his battle partners considerably.

Time was only just in time to prevent Wind and Legend both from being axed, but the wound l=that gushes blood from his side now had been the price.

“Fairy!” Four shouts out again. “Now!”

He blinks awake, the blurriness of his vision fogging his mind too, but not so much that he doesn’t register the request this time. Gloved hands fumble with the buckles of his bag, and he’s sweating and breathing harshly with worry as he rips the straps aside and grabs the first bottle he sees. Red liquid glitters back at him and he huffs a grunt out, handing it off to Wind and digging back into his bag.

Thank Hylia he and Four had gone fairy hunting in the last world they’d been in, he’s only got the one fairy, but it should be enough.

Faint pink glimmers in his jar, no longer bright and flittering, but he has to pray it’ll be enough to save Time. His fingers scrabble for the cork, tears pricking at his eyes and burning as he does his best to force them back.

Help Time.

Calm the others.

Break down and cry later.

The cork pops free, and the fairy bumbles sluggishly towards the mouth of the jar.

“Help!” He wheezes, glancing at where Legend and Four have started preforming CPR as tears stream openly down Twilight’s face, the rancher clutching his mentor’s hand tight enough to break bones as he watches the two replacement healers attempt to preserve the ever-fading breath of the man in his arms.

The fairy's wings flit softly as it launches from the mouth of the jar. Its path is sluggish and crooked, but soft glimmering dust flutters from its wings all the same, sprinkling over the gushing wound and slowing the flow of blood. Four leans back to spit out some blood that’s bubbled up into his mouth while he was pushing air into their leader’s lungs, and a stuttering cough breaks the frenzied silence as Time’s eyes flicker. The fairy circles a second time, color returning to Time’s face as raw and tender flesh takes the place of an open wound. There’s no time for a third pass, however, as the fairy’s wings stutter to a halt, pink glow fading as it drops to the earth.

The others are too busy with Time to notice, Wind practically shoving the red potion down the man’s throat while Legend and Four start wrapping the wound in their leader’s side. Only Warriors has seen the fairy fall, and panic lances through his heart again.

Fairies aren’t supposed to collapse after healing someone; they’re supposed to fly away. But this fairy only weakly attempts to rise again, and while the other fuss over the lesser injuries while Legend scolds Time, the captain turns his attention to the fading pink light that blinks on and off in the tall grass.

The fairy shivers in his hands as he gently scoops it up, but when he raises it to eyes level to look at it properly, he freezes.

Tousled brown hair, drenched in sweat, flops over lidden golden eyes. Sure, there six tiny eyes to look at, but the light in them, though faded, is familiar. Same as the freckles that dust drawn cheeks and the tiny green and brown tunic, the shrunken boots the-

“Hyrule?” His voice is soft and disbelieving, too hushed to be heard by the others as they continue to worry over the old man. But the tiny figure in his hands stirs, ever so slightly, golden eyes blinking open as a weak smile meets his gaze.

“W-” The single sound escaped before the fairy stutters in his hands, lights blinking out for half of a second as Hyrule coughs and wheezes.

“Hang on!” Again, he’s digging in his bag, guilt and utter horror filling him as realization hits.

He put Hyrule in a bottle. A bottle that has sat in his bag for days. A bottle that is closed and sealed and-

The captain’s breath stutters as his fingers find the vial of green potion. Eyes glassy as he lifts it to the fading light in his hands, and while Hyrule sips slowly at the vial that’s raised to his lips, it’s all that the soldier can do to not break down crying right then and there.

He locked Hyrule in a bottle!

Tiny wings flutter in his hold as Hyrule pulls himself up to grasp the vial better, but the captain’s so lost in his head he can only stare, unseeing, as the fairy downs the rest of the vial, despite the thing being bigger than himself. The pink glow that signifies a healing fairy stutters back to a more radiant bloom, wings fluttering lightly as Hyrule shakes out his limbs with a wince.

“Thank you for freeing me.” The traveler’s tiny voice chirps, eyes pained but warm as they all stare up at him, and a single tear escapes from the captain at the words.

He doesn’t really think, just gently plucks the fairy up and settles him in a fold of his scarf before jumping to his feet and striding away into the forest. Sky’s voice calls after him, but he ignores it, instead heading for the nearest bunch of trees.

He’s not sure why he brought Hyrule along, but he also knows he couldn’t just leave the fairy hero back in the camp with no one to watch over him, so even as he fights back the tears that well in his eyes and the pain that blossoms in his heart and the sensation of too small- too tight- trapped- glass- trapped-

“Warriors!” The sharp peal of Hyrule’s voice cuts him out of his thoughts. He doesn’t know when he’d fallen to his knees or when his hands had risen up to clutch his hair. It hurts how hard he’s pulling, and it scares him that he hadn’t even felt it. “Hey!” The voice continues, Hyrule fluttering, still weak, only inches from his face, concern glimmering in glimmering golden eyes. “Hey listen! Wars? Can you hear me? Wars?”

“S-sorry.”

“Are you okay?” Hyrule dismissed the apology, and it draws a wet laugh from the captain as he watches the still stuttering wings beating with a speed to rival a hummingbird, Hyrule’s drawn frame looking even paler and thinner right now than it had when they’d first met him.

“I should be asking you that, kid.” He chokes out. He’d locked this kid in a bottle for days! He’d never known it and if Time hadn’t been dying, who knows how long it would have taken him to open it!

Hyrule’s smile is drawn as his wings stutter to a stop again, the traveler falling into Warriors’ lap as the captain starts forwards as if to catch him. Muttered words sound through the air and then Hyrule, properly sized but still pale and thin and painfully still is nestled against his chest. “I’m exhausted and hungry, but I’m out.” The kid breathes, eyes fluttering as a soft breeze ruffles his sweat soaked hair. “I’m out and that’s all I could ask for right now.”

He doesn’t even think as he wraps his arms around the kid, burying his nose in the damp curls and never minding the fact that they are rank with sweat and fear. It’s Hyrule, and he’s safe, and while Legend is probably going to murder him for trapping the poor kid for three whole days, at least he knows that the little one is alright.

“I’m so sorry.” His voice is muffled as he murmurs into the curls. “I know how bottles suck, if I’d’ve known it was you I would have never-” His voice hitches with a sob as he tugs the kid closer, weeping as Hyrule’s gentle hands weakly pat the only thing they can reach within his tight hug, his chest.

“You didn’t know.” Hyrule rasps softly. “But I’m burning your bug-net when I have the energy.”

“Please.” Comes the strangled sob. “Oh goddesses, Rule, I’m so sorry!” The gentle hands move up to wipe away his tears but it only brings them flooding down harder. “Goddesses, I locked you in a bottle! You could’ve been in there forever and I wouldn’t have known! I wouldn’t have checked! I would’ve-”

Left him there. His mind supplies. He would have left Hyrule in a glass bottle where no one could find him, where his shrieks and screams and pleas for help wouldn’t have made a difference to anything or anyone, not when the giant beings that trapped him were unaware or uncaring of his fate, not when he was there to serve a purpose, not when he was there to be used like an item and supply power to those who don’t have enough themselves.

A talisman. I trophy. A tool so that they could do what they needed.

He’s been there. He’s been in that bottle, used like a tool, supplying power to beings so much larger than himself. He’s been in that bottle and left to sit while his friends call his name, while Mask and Tune and Ravio and Impa and Marin and Midna and- and-

“Hush.” Hyrule coos softly, voice hoarse, no doubt from many a scream and wail in hopes of catching their attention, of gaining freedom. “Sush, you’re okay. I’m okay, we’re both okay and Time will be okay.” Rough pads scrape across his cheeks and gently rub his ears. “I got you Wars, I got you.”

And Hyrule does have him, holds him despite being the one in Warriors’ lap, until the others come wandering over and the traveler is scooped from his arms by Sky, who hugs the youngster with tears pouring down his face and voice caught in his throat.

His tears go unnoticed as they all head back, and the instant they reach camp Legend is springing forwards with worry glittering in his eyes as he takes the traveler’s face in his hands, disbelief and shock and hurt and hope and a thousand other emotions swarming in golden violet as Legend gently touches the traveler’s brow with his own, crystal tears leaking out slowly as a tiny smile pulls at the vet’s face.

It only lasts a minute, but then Sky and Legend are fussing over Hyrule, checking him over and clucking their tongues like a couple of mother cuckoos as Wild springs towards the fire, eyes flashing indignantly at the sight of Hyrule’s thin frame, something he’d worked so hard to mend.

“Oh, ‘Rulie, thank Din you’re back!” Legend sighs, cupping the kids face gently in his hands as golden eyes flicker up at the vet with a smile. “Wherever where you? We nearly lost our minds with worry!”

“He was trapped by a monster.” The words roll off of his tongue bitterly as Hyrule frowns up at him, but Legend and Sky are too busy fussing to notice and Hyrule isn’t given a chance to correct anything as they check again for any injuries.

Warriors draws away, leaving Hyrule wrapped in his scarf as he sits on the edge of camp, head aching from tears shed and mind blank in the wake of them. He’s too tired to join in the fuss and celebration as Time sits up again with a groan and Hyrule is spoon-fed soup by a murmuring Sky. He’s tired. He’s cold, and he feels utterly empty.

At least he’s not in a bottle.

The thought sends shivers through him as he curls in on himself, an outlier to the bustle of the camp, free now to descend into the madness of his broken mind.

#warriors angst #idiot writes angst #sapphic loser16 my beloved #linked universe #linkeduniverse #lu warriors #lu hyrule #lu legend #lu time #lu twilight #lu sky #lu wind #lu four #lu wild #angst #hurt no comfort #claustrophobia #claustrophobia tw

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brandywine-tomatoes · 4 years ago

Note

Hello! I was wondering if you could write a fluffy Lydia x reader where the reader is really bad at flirting, but absolutely loves being flirted with, as well as cuddling and being cuddled! Y’know, the usual fluff stuff. ❤️❤️❤️ Love ur aesthetics btw!

Natural Beauty

Masterlist

1 634 words

tw: none, just a bit of fluff in hallways at lunch

a/n: ahhhh!! Thank you so much for the request! I’m sorry it took this long, chemistry is taking up a lot of my time. I hope this is alright!! (and thank you for being my first request 💕)

“You need to learn how to repress your feelings better, it’s incredibly obvious,” your friend Anya said out of the blue from the desk beside you.

You whipped your head around. “What? What’s obvious?”

“You like her, plain as day, you’ve been staring at her for weeks. She’s your best friend, just tell her,” she went back to writing whatever was written on the chalkboard.

“I do not!” Your voice rose an octave. “She’s just that, a friend.”

“You keep telling yourself that,” she smirked at you.

You hadn’t been staring at her, just... admiring her. She was a work of the best artist, her smile perfect and lifted the clouds from your mind, how could anyone not admire her? But this was different. She was your closest friend, and you were her first friend at school, though that had been a different time. You both were young and innocent, now you were a year away from graduating and everything seemed to become more free-flowing and fast-paced. But Lydia was always there, she was the constant throughout all of it, who helped you when no one else could. She laughed at your terrible puns and stayed late on the phone to help you stop crying. She’d trusted you enough that she even invited you to meet her dad and stepmother and told you ghost stories until you drifted off to sleep beside her.

“You’re staring again,” Anya mumbled.

“I’m never sitting next to you again,” you sarcastically grumbled, trying to catch up on the photography notes.

Lydia sat a couple rows in front of you beside the window, her face always illuminated by the natural light while she furiously scribbled down notes and listened intently. She was incredibly talented; she could be accepted into the best schools for photography and that would be with her ‘worst’ photos. She just loved it so much.

“Okay class,” the teacher started, standing up to pack her bags. “There will be a project due in the next couple of days, very simple and covers what we’ve learned so far. I want you to find a natural beauty and capture it, keeping in mind the composition techniques we’ve learned. This will determine your status in the course.”

As she finished, the irritating bell rang over the intercom, signalling the start of lunch and a bit of freedom.

You and Anya packed your things and left the classroom in a hurry, not wanting to be caught in the stampede of students. You both stood close to the wall, waiting for Lydia.

The highway of students thinned out and only the ones who hung out in the hallways at lunch were occupying it.

“What’s taking her so long, I’ve got food to eat,” Anya asked.

“Dunno, maybe she’s talking with Ms. Wilson?” You shrugged.

“If she doesn’t come out soon, I’m gonna starve to death. I didn’t eat breakfast this morning.”

“Don’t be so dramatic, she can’t be much longer,” you reasoned, looping your arm in hers so she wouldn’t abandon you.

“This could be considered hostage-taking,” she retorted.

“This is a sign of friendship.”

She chuckled at that. “You’re so ‘sunshine and rainbows’, maybe Lydia will change that.”

“What am I changing?” Lydia walked out of the classroom with Ms. Wilson behind her, walking in the other direction.

“Apparently I’m too much of a ray of sunshine for little miss ‘I’m a hostage’,” you looped your other arm in hers to her surprise and started walking towards your lockers down the hall.

Lydia held onto your arm, the gesture warming your cheeks a bit. “Oh yeah, 100%, we’ve gotta work towards corrupting you.”

“New project for the spring, corrupt little miss sunshine.” Anya unlopped her arm and went to unlock her locker.

You realized Lydia was still clinging to your arm and your free hand found itself wrapped around hers. Your heart started pounding and you quickly let go to unlock your own locker.

“Any other projects I should be aware of?” You asked jokingly.

Anya gestured to an occupied Lydia opening her locker beside you. “Many in the works.”

You playfully slapped Any’s arm, feeling the heat rising up your neck and locked your locker.

The 3 of you slid down the lockers and started talking about whatever came to mind and shared the food you collectively had. As the minutes ticked away, somehow Lydia’s head ended up in your lap and your hands played with locks of her short black hair while Anya couldn’t stop smiling at the sight.

“So, then I was like ‘he wouldn’t do that! You’ve got be kidding me!’ and they were all ‘nope, he did, he let every bug he could find in into the house’ and then I was like ‘well where is he?’ and they were all-” Lydia went on about her step-uncle, her hands animated in the air for emphasis.

You had a little smile on your face as you looked at her passionately going on about her family. Your back was getting sore from leaning on the locker, but you didn’t dare move.

“Y/N? Earth to Y/N?” Lydia’s voice interrupted your thinking.

“Yeah?”

“You were staring,” Anya almost vibrated off the floor in excitement.

Oh no oh no you thought. Lydia could get the wrong idea... or was it the right idea?

“I wasn’t staring, just thinking,” you defended, Lydia looking up at you with curious eyes, causing more anxiety.

“Anyways,” Lydia thankfully interrupted, seeing you were uncomfortable. “I asked if you had any ghost stories.”

“I mean, I believe in them, sure, but I’ve never met any.”

Lydia’s lips quirked up. “You’ll meet some one day.”

“Is that a promise, Deetz?”

“You betcha babe,” Lydia winked. Anya choked on a french fry and you looked anywhere but Lydia, laughing nervously and your face feeling incredibly hot. You were suddenly very aware of your hands still playing with the locks of her hair and slowly pulled them away reluctantly.

“Aw, you’re blushing! You’re so cute when you blush!” She excitedly said as she sat up, her face inches apart. You swallowed and looked to the ground, to the wall behind her, to your fidgeting hands, anywhere but the gorgeous girl in front of you. You finally turned your gaze to her and saw hers was observing your lips. She looked from your lips to your eyes, then again, and you swore the corners of lips turned up when you let your gaze slide to hers.

The irritating bell rang out, echoing off the walls and made you jump back. Lydia smirked and gathered her things into her bag. You sat there for a moment, stunned and really confused. You thought she was actually going to kiss you, in a school hallway, in front of Anya, around everyone else, against the no PDA rule. You told yourself you didn’t want that to happen as you packed up your things and let Anya help you up who was grinning like an idiot.

Your breath hitched when Lydia looked at your lips, you almost leaned in, you imagined cupping her cheek and holding her closer then would be considered just platonic, you wanted that to happen. But you always felt like that, you always felt your heart pounding when she grabbed your hand to lead you to class and tried to keep your breathing even when she was bumped closer or when she flirted shamelessly with you.

You vaguely remember saying goodbye to a beaming Anya and walking slowly through the crowd to your next class, lost in thought. Well, lost in figuring out what you were going to do about Lydia.

“What’s going on in that pretty little mind of yours, Y/N?” Lydia came up beside you. You snapped out of it and halfheartedly smiled.

“Oh come on, what’s wrong? Was it something I said?” She stepped in front of you, her eyebrows turned down and a worried look in her eyes. The students behind gave you dirty looks as they passed by.

“No, of course not, you didn’t do anything wrong.” You gave her a reassuring smile, though she didn’t look convinced. You put your hands on her shoulders, trying to ignore your rising heartbeat. “If you did anything wrong, I’d tell you.”

She put her hands on top of yours, a relieved smile overtaking her features. “Come on, I’ll walk you to class.”

“Isn’t your class the other way?”

She winked and pulled you forward, slinging an arm around your shoulders. “I can run.”

Her short hair tickled your jaw and you could see her dark purple lipstick shimmer in the fluorescent light. The crowd thinned out as everyone got to their classes, leaving you two walking through the empty halls. You walked to your art history class in a comforting silence, consumed by your own thoughts.

You finally got to the plain entrance of the class and Lydia slid her arm off your shoulder to your dismay. You both faced each other, waiting for the other to say something, a goodbye or a confusion.

“You wanna come over after school? You know, to do the photography assignment?” She asked.

“Uh, sure!” You replied a little too eager. “I don’t really know what to do for it, but I guess I’ll think of something.”

Lydia smirked at you and began walking back down the hallway. “I know exactly what I’m doing.”

“Well, what’s the idea?”

“You.”

She blew a kiss and ran back down the hall, leaving you fumbling and blushing like crazy.

Once your heart slowed down, you smiled to yourself, wondering if the goth girl of Winter River really had a thing for you. Maybe she really did think of you like you thought of her. Maybe you could really be her natural beauty.

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yoonsshadow · 4 years ago

Text

ETERNAL - v

➳ summary ; They have died so often that death has lost its meaning; hurt so regularly that pain has become inconsequential; lost so much that they hold each other to the light of the stars. They have nothing yet they have everything, as long as they have each other. And, after centuries, they now have her.

➳ pairing ; bts!ot7 x fem!reader

➳ genres ; The Old Guard au; fantasy, historical, action, romance, alternate universe

➳ themes ; angst, fluff, death

➳ warnings ; smoking, mature conversations

➳ word count ; 3k

➳ note ; Thank you for your patience!

masterlist

Fear is a fist that clutches your heart, reminding you of its presence each time it tightens its grip. It doesn’t hurt, necessarily, but you can feel the strength in its hold; the raging tendons wrapped around your tender organ that strain with each heartbeat. A singular emotion controlling your very pulse.

Cigarette smoke billows into the indigo hour of the night, and you find yourself unable to pry the fingers away.

The air on the balcony is cold, but it envelops you in a comforting embrace; it’s a soft coolness, as opposed to the harsh, biting climate of the desert that you’ve become accustomed to. Your skin prickles with goosebumps, but you don’t feel the need to scratch at yourself, to tear the skin from your flesh. It makes you feel alive, even if the definition of that word has changed for you.

Evidence of your newfound immortality, if that’s what you can call it, dangles between your fingers, ashes falling to the ground several storeys below with each gentle tap. It tastes terrible⎯⎯a bitter flavour of death in every pull⎯⎯but it serves its purpose for now. It keeps you grounded, gives you something to focus on other than the slowly growing anxiety that still holds strong in your chest.

Behind you, the balcony door slides open, startling the silent air with its soft drag.

“You’re up late,” Namjoon says. He speaks soft, low, as if hesitant to disturb you. “Or early, I guess. Didn’t take you for a smoker.”

You breathe out a puff of smoke, watching as it dissipates into the darkness. “I’m not.” He steps into your periphery, leaning on the metal railing beside you. “I just needed...something. Found them hidden away in the bookshelf.”

Namjoon scoffs. “Figures. We’re usually a non-smoking household, but sometimes the boys get sneaky. Pass me one?”

You hand him the box. Only two cigarettes left. He brings one to dangle between his lips and, without asking, you hand him a lighter. It takes him three tries, and then he’s sighing smoke into the air as well.

“Thought you were a non-smoking household.”

“We are. Stinks up the place, and it tastes disgusting. But. When in Rome.”

“You calling me Rome?”

He chuckles, but doesn’t answer. “Couldn’t sleep?”

You shake your head, despite knowing that he isn’t looking at you. “Too much on my mind.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“I don’t think I could if I tried.”

He blends in with the shadows, slightly, though the peaks of his cheekbones catch the dull light that glows through the mist of pollution. “I get that. Would you rather me talk?”

“Not really.”

“Do you want me to leave you alone?”

“Not really.”

So he stays. Until the embers begin to burn your fingertips; until you’re snuffing your cigarette on the metal rail. You don’t think you’ll smoke again. You suppose it doesn’t matter, though. There’s forever ahead of you to change your mind.

Sunlight is just beginning to illuminate the buildings around you when Namjoon speaks up again. He stubbed his own cigarette before it was even halfway done.

“I’m sure you’re curious,” he says. “About us, about the situation, about everything. And we’ll tell you as much as we can, but...There are some things the boys won’t feel comfortable telling you about just yet. We’ve lived long lives. We’ve done good things and bad things; experienced things we’re proud of and things that haunt us. We may not die, but we’re still human. I hope that you don’t mind being patient with us.”

Your heart aches a little at the melancholy in his tone, as if you wouldn’t give the world for these seven men after knowing them just a day. It feels as if your soul has missed them for a lifetime.

“Namjoon.” He turns to face you, now, and a halo of soft light glows around his face. “I don’t know what you’ve all been through, and frankly, it’s none of my business. If you want to tell me something, I know that you’ll do it in your own time. I’ve got the rest of my life to get to know you all, okay? There’s no rush.”

His smile starts as a twitch, a quirked corner of his lips, but quickly grows wide. Relieved.

“I’m glad it’s you,” he says. He offers no elaboration, no further words, but you think you know what he means. Because you’re glad it’s him, too. You’re glad it’s them.

With breakfast comes clarity. As you sit at the large dining table, bowls of rice, soup, and several plates of banchan steaming into the morning air, you find yourself feeling calmer than you have since your death. It’s as though the raging tides of emotions⎯⎯uncertainty, confusion, downright fear⎯⎯have finally quelled into a tranquil body of water. There is sure to be a ripple sooner or later, but for now, it is completely still.

Yoongi, the cook of this morning’s feast, takes the first bite, and the rest of you follow. There is so much that you want to say, so many questions that you want to speak into existence, but the bitter taste of apprehension bleeds through even the delicious taste of your meal. You feel like you might choke on it⎯⎯the taste and your words both⎯⎯but your throat closes before you can even swallow.

Ah. There is the awaited ripple.

Perhaps it is the hours of silent companionship, or simply his centuries of wisdom, but Namjoon seems to sense your internal struggle. “If there’s anything you want to ask us, Y/N, go ahead. We’ll answer to the best of our abilities.”

Your throat eases and your tastebuds return to normal. “Well…” Where do you begin? What questions do you ask potentially ancient beings? “I guess let’s start with what this,” you wave a finger around the table, at the seven other sets of eyes who watch you patiently, “is. The situation.”

Namjoon nods slowly. It seems he’ll be taking charge for this conversation, much to the visible relief of the others. “Even we aren’t completely certain of what exactly this is,” he says. “From what we’ve learned, our death granted us immortality, or something to that degree. We cannot die, nor can we get majorly injured. Any wounds heal quickly, and any illnesses metabolise out of our system before they can affect us.”

You nod. All of this you were already aware of.

“As for this,” he continues. He looks around the group, fighting back a fond smile. “We’re all connected. When someone else becomes like us, we all see visions of each other to help us find them. The same happened with you. You saw visions of us when you slept, and we saw visions of you. That’s how we could find you. The dreams gave us enough information to figure out who you were, and then it was a matter of locating you.”

“Which wasn’t easy, by the way,” Jimin adds, though there is no annoyance. “Your files were so deeply buried that we thought they might not exist. And don’t even get me started on accessing the satellite.”

“You hacked a satellite?” You can’t hide the shock in your tone, and you don’t miss the glint of mischief in Jimin’s eyes.

“That’s not important,” Namjoon says, taking control of the conversation once again. “What’s important is this: the eight of us are intrinsically connected now. We might not get the visions anymore, but we are still linked. The easiest way to describe it is that we’re soulmates, though that might not even be true. We were destined to find each other, to be immortal together. Whether it’s for some higher purpose, or just a random curse, we don’t know. It’s better, I think, if we don’t try and find out that reason.”

Now that confuses you. “Why? Isn’t it human nature to be curious?”

Hoseok scoffs. “I don’t think we fall under the definition of ‘human’ anymore.”

You’ll have to file that away for later.

Namjoon ignores Hoseok, and looks straight at you. “If we become too enveloped in trying to figure out the big ‘why’, we’ll get lost in ourselves. We’ll lose our own sense of purpose. If we were chosen, for whatever reason, then we have to trust that our instincts will guide us to do what is needed.”

“Okay.” You suppose he’s right. “Then, could you tell me how old you all are?”

“We don’t do ages,” Taehyung says. He sounds almost amused. “We know the age we were when we died, but we don’t keep track of how long we’ve lived after that. It’s a rule.”

“Then how about...generally? Who was the first? How did you all die?”

All eyes turn to Namjoon. Honestly, you can’t say you’re surprised.

“I was the first,” he says. A faraway look takes over his eyes, as if lost in the past. Seokjin puts a grounding hand on his shoulder. “I couldn’t figure out my actual age if I tried, but it was...a long time ago. I was the chief of my village. Killed for power. The story isn’t too interesting.”

There’s a brief moment of silence, and then Yoongi clears his throat. “I was the second. A slave to some tyrant who thought he was all-powerful. Killed in front of the other slaves to put them in line.” He shrugs, but doesn’t meet anyone’s eyes.

Hoseok is quick to speak next, his words are short and curt. “I was third. Court execution.” He seems reluctant, as if guarding his past behind the tightly-locked gates of his crossed arms, but you mean what you said to Namjoon earlier; you will wait for them. For however long it takes.

Next is Seokjin, and you have a feeling that his theatrics are for Hoseok’s benefit. “I was the lucky fourth, and a king, at that! Though I was only in the position for a few hours, and all public records of it were thrown into the river with my body. Which is a shame, really, because my portraits deserved to be in museums for all to marvel over.”

“Um.” Jeongguk seems nervous, and you see him hide his shaking hands beneath the table. “I was next. I died of...natural causes.”

“And we came as a set,” Taehyung smiles, arm slung over Jimin’s shoulders. “Died at the very same moment, and woke up the same way! We were best friends, right, Jiminie? On the opposite sides of a war, but I loved him with my whole heart.”

Jimin nods, a wistful smile pulling at his cheeks. “I remember thinking that I was so lucky, to die in his arms. To never have to live a single moment without him. And then we found the others, and I thought that I must’ve been in heaven to be so fortunate.”

“We’re all together,” Namjoon elaborates, though it’s unnecessary. A blind man could see the way they feel about each other. “It may be because of circumstance, though I like to think that it’s because we were all meant to be. Like it’s a gift from the universe, allowing soulmates born in different centuries to find each other.”

“And now you,” Jeongguk whispers. His eyes glimmer, hopeful, and so young despite the obvious years he has over you. You wonder why he doesn’t seem as emotionally aged as the others; what could cause him to cling to his youth the way he does. It doesn’t matter, though. If it means he keeps his heart, it will never matter.

“We don’t expect anything from you,” Seokjin says. “Not romantically or even platonically. You are still your own person, and if you don’t want to be a part of this, in any degree, we won’t force it.”

You are thankful for that. It takes away a pressure that you didn’t even know you had until now. The thought that this is a choice⎯⎯a decision that is completely yours to make⎯⎯relieves you to no end. And yet...

“I don’t think that’s a decision I can make right now.” You mindlessly arrange the chopsticks on your now empty plate as you try to summon the right words to explain yourself. “There’s so much that I need to figure out, and so many things that I feel I have to do. I don’t even know if I’ve properly processed the situation yet, or if I’m simply in shock.”

“Is there any way we can help you?” Yoongi, as always, seems so genuine. So heartfelt.

“You already have. So much more than you’d believe.” And it’s true. Independence is your life. You may have been in a team in your old life, a leader of a small group for whom you were responsible, but you were always brought up, always trained, to survive alone. To find comfort in an existence of solitude. Because that’s what the military is; it is removing yourself from others, from the world. You were in a team, sure, but you were all alike in your aloneness. Alone together.

Now, you have this group of men who, without knowing you, have plucked you from your misery and now offer you everything. Offer themselves, their companionship, their help. You are not the one responsible, the one with everything on the line. They have taken that from you with gentle hands, and you give it away gladly. There is not much else that you could ask of them.

Except. Well, maybe there is.

“But…” You trail off, and their eyes just scream patience. You don’t know how they do it, how they’ve grown to be so effortlessly composed and serene, because right now your heart is beating in urgency. It batters against your chest, yelling at you to just ask them, now, but your words falter in sudden uncertainty. They have already given you so much, offered even more; can you truly ask for the help that you now realise you may need?

You look into their eyes again, and know that the answer is yes.

“This mission,” you continue, sitting up straighter. If you speak with confidence, perhaps you’ll start to feel it. “As far as I know, it was never completed. When our team went in, it was under the belief that we’d be able to rescue all of the children safely and relatively unseen. Someone on the inside tipped them off, but they had to have had a reason. They wouldn’t have betrayed us like that unless something was wrong.”

“You speak like you know exactly who it was,” Hoseok says. It isn’t a question, and you see it in his expression that he isn’t necessarily looking for an answer.

You won’t give him one. Not yet. Not until you’ve figured out for yourself why this person would’ve left you for dead. “That isn’t important right now,” you say in lieu of a confirmation. “What matters is that those children are still out there somewhere, and there’s a leak in the operation.” Releasing a deep sigh, you slump down a bit. “I’m going back to the desert, back to the base, and I’m going to save those children. If you would like to help me...that would be really nice.”

“Of course we’ll help,” Jeongguk says, without hesitation. There’s a resoluteness in the set of his jaw that you haven’t seen in him before. “Anything you need. We mean it.”

“We should talk about this plan of yours first, though,” Namjoon says. “As far as the military is concerned, you’re dead. You died with your team. If you go back to your base of operations, that’s just going to open up a whole lot of complications for both sides. They might think that you were the traitor, being the only survivor. We’ll need to operate with a certain level of stealth.”

You were worried about that. Your dog-tags are with the rest of your team’s, your body supposedly burned along with theirs. You won’t be able to reprise the role you previously played in this, and you won’t have the military support that you once had. If you do this, it will be in the shadows, hiding behind corners and turning away from cameras. You are a ghost now. You’ll have to act like one.

“Okay,” you say. “I understand; we need to stay hidden. But there is one person that I need to see face-to-face. I can promise that they won’t do anything to endanger our identities.”

“It’s a bad idea,” Jimin says. “Trust is one thing when you’re alive, but if they’ve been mourning your death, you can’t know for sure how they’ll react.”

“That’s a risk I’m willing to take,” you affirm. “I trust this person, and I’m going to need you all to trust me.”

Taehyung bites his lip in contemplation. “It isn’t that we don’t trust you,” he says, “but we can’t fully trust the situation. We don’t know this person, whoever they are, or how they’ll use this information against you. Against us.”

“I get it, I do.” You can’t help but sigh. “But this is something that I need to do, and something that I will do regardless of whether I have your permission. I won’t let my decision affect any of you, but if you decide against helping me because of this, I’ll understand.”

Yoongi leans forward. “We’re going to help you.” His tone is final. “And you’re right, this is your decision to make. We just want to make sure that you completely understand what you’re potentially getting yourself into.”

“You are all a lot older than me,” you say, “and obviously much wiser. But I’m an adult too, and I’m mature enough to know that my actions may have consequences. I’m no stranger to making tough decisions, or to taking responsibility. I may not be a Captain by rank anymore, but that doesn’t change who I am.”

“Okay,” Namjoon says. He doesn’t argue, nor does he apologise, but he doesn’t need to. There is a mutual understanding in the way you look at each other, and nothing more needs to be said. “So, what’s the plan?”

You take in a deep breath, and prepare your mind to return to the place you’ve grown to loathe.

< prev - next >

tags: @leafyturtle, @loveyoongles, @paint-music-with-me, @barbikatherine, @itsmorgo1604, @calling-dips-on-j-hope, @veronawrites, @applepie1000, @yoonchrisgullwrites, @ally22042000, @ireallylikefoodandyoutube, @blglmgk01, @basicgukk, @softescapism, @sinceritythatcouldntbedelivered, @m1nt-3lla, @hunnayesblog, @rosycheekb, @hemmofluke, @the-bisaster, @katbonv, @borahebangtan, @monodroppp, @skyys-universe

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angel-anoetic · 4 years ago

Note

Hey! 🌿 here, I've been having Jack Manifold brain rot recently. He's so pretty and genuine and has such a nice singing voice. And then I was struck with this idea of Jack and Reader being reincarnated souls of dryads who waltz to save the world when the egg takes over and reset the timeline minus the corruption that happened and only Foolish remembers (because he's a god) even if you don't write it, thank you for writing all of my requests, it means a lot to me! ❤️

hey hey 🌿! i too have had jack manifold brain rot or it might be the gender envy but anyways- his voice is so pretty. Anon, you always give me the best writing prompts to and i always love writing your requests! i hope you enjoy !!

Don't forget to like to save, and reblog to share

c!JackManifold x gn!Reader - Saving Souls

genre: /rom, soulmates almost (?), fantasy, Dreamsmp au

warnings: none! (let me know if i missed anything)

masterlist <3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The first time you had noticed any kind of power, you were maybe 5 years old. It wasn't too obvious at first, things that could be passed off as mere coincidence Leaves seemingly following you, flowers turning to face you.

But you couldn't ignore the big signs, the bigger things. Vines growing around you, the flowers you picked immediately sprouting a few more in their place.

It scared you, but over time you got used to it. It gave you something to do on the hot summer days and cold winter nights. Spring gave you the most power and let them flourish, literally and metaphorically.

It had been some years ago when you met a young man who went by the name Jack Manifold. It was a nice day and you decided to cross the river that surrounded your home when you came upon a field of flowers after walking for a few minutes.

There were so many that you could feel their energy fill your veins. But there was something else. Someone. An energy that matched your own, too powerful to be a plant or a part of the Earth. Then he appeared, seemingly from nowhere. A tree a few yards away suddenly a boy.

From there had blossomed, no pun intended a friendship and relationship that held so much power. You two had grown and helped each other through work through the cons of your powers. Learned how to control them before they controlled you.

So one day when you received a message from an old friend regarding a certain evil that had taken over his friends and one of his homes, you couldn't ignore his call.

You and Jack showed up a few days later, and after a brief meeting with Foolish, you considered your options as you and Jack walked to the Egg's resting place.

"Maybe we could find if its core, and if we're lucky it'll be plant-based. Or Foolish did say that there are lots of vines and other plants surrounding it. We can just bury it so deep it won't be a problem ever again."

"No, Foolish wants it gone, and I think we should exhaust all of our options, whether we destroy the Egg or not."

As you two made your way to the Egg, people began to stop and consider the new visitors. Some looked tired, others just seemed angry or upset.

Then you two found it. The entrance to its resting place. Its red color illuminating what otherwise would have been a darkroom underneath the SMP. Vines and some other plants that you weren't sure you had ever seen.

"Oh my god." You looked at Jack, his eyes glowing against the room's tainted glow.

"What is it?"

"This is worse than what I would have expected, Y/N. These plants...I've only seen them once before in a very bad place. But it could work to our advantage."

You both made your way down the stairs, the sight of the Egg pushing beyond what you could have ever imagined. It stood tall, and the pure energy and heat that it gave off were almost enough to make anyone tired.

You began to feel a sense of panic rising in you, your hands slightly shaking at the sight of the object.

You felt the energy rushing out, towards the palm of your hands as a small flutter of energy found its way to the ground. As soon as the small seeds touched the ground, they grew into enormous green and white flowers.

A terrible scream suddenly emitted from the room, one that neither of you could hardly understand.

"Y/N, do that again."

"W-What?"

"The flowers, help them grow, just like those."

You focused on the type of flower, seeing it in your mind, then three more sprouted out of the original one.

Another scream filled the room.

"Alright, I have a plan. I'm not sure it will work but I do know it's worth a chance."

You couldn't look away from the Egg. It was like a monster staring you down, one that you were seconds away from fighting.

Jack turned to you, grabbing your face gently, rubbing his thumb against your cheek.

"Hey," he whispered, "It's alright. We are gonna take care of this in no time and help so many people. And we're gonna come out of it together. Okay?"

You nodded, grabbing his hands with your own, leaning into his energy.

"Alright, the plan is simple. I am going to try and manipulate these plants and grow the ones you just did. The Egg, it doesn't like the sight or the addition of plants that aren't connected to it. So while I'm carrying that out you need to start making something to protect us. I don't care what it is, how big it is, as long as it's strong enough to get us through a really bad thing. Can you do that for me?"

"I can do that."

You both smiled until Jack spoke. "Then let's do this."

Jack picked one of the flowers and one of the crimson plants that encased the room. He placed them gently together in front of the Egg and began to focus on transforming them into whatever he could.

You on the other hand began to pull together whatever plant matter you could find. Some pieces of wood and plants you had never even seen in your life still seemed to bend your will with just a little resistance. A small burrow was slowly being formed around you. When you looked up you could already see Jack had formed a large hybrid of the red and white plant which was now surrounding the Egg in a spiral.

The screams returned, nearly knocking Jack off his feet. He was a mess, the focus combined with the pure power that he needed to do what he needed was taking its toll slowly but surely.

Eventually, the Egg's screams, while still loud, became weaker, and a sudden rumbling came from the ground around you both.

"Jack! Jack get in here!" You screamed from your makeshift plant and wood bunker.

"Just a minute!" He continued his work, the vines and leaves already infiltrating the Egg's core.

You looked up, the ceiling above you caving in slowly. Right above Jack.

All he felt was the large vine wrap around his waist, then a harsh pull as he fell next to you within the bunker, moments away from the boulder that nearly crushed him.

"Keep going! It's not over yet."

You turned your attention away from the bunker and began to help Jack. The screams had to be the worst part. Your ears were basically going numb. You weren't even sure if Jack could hear your encouragements or if you were even talking.

All you know is that both of you were trying, the shaking of the ground was strong, and a sudden bright light was exploding from the Egg.

Then silence.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were the first to wake up. The ringing was still in your ears, but less powerful and daunting. Jack was situated against you, sleeping peacefully.

You leaned back against your arms and tried to shake him awake. Eventually, he stirred up, and you were able to clear away your shared 'bunker'.

After you made your way back up you saw the change immediately. The skies seemed happier. People were less scared to move about town.

You and Jack walked around, people greeting you as you did. You spotted Foolish atop a hill.

When you finally met him up there he smiled.

"Y/N, thank you so much. It happened. Whatever you two did...it worked." The tears filled his eyes as he engulfed both you and Jack in a hug.

"I don't know what you did, but no one here even seems to know what happened. It's like they went to bed and woke up new people. A fresh start."

You laughed. "That's great Foolish. I'm happy we could help. It was all Jack in the end."

You both turned to each other, the light in both of your eyes new.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

#c!Jack Manifold x reader #c!Jack Manifold x y/n #jack manifold x reader #dsmp imagine #dsmp x reader #mcyt fanfiction #mcyt imagine #mcyt x reader #mcyt x y/n #🌿#🌿 anon

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xjoonchildx · 5 years ago

Text

guilty | knj x reader | chapter one: how odd

summary: as the man at the top, kim namjoon has almost everything he wants. almost. could a familiar face from the past change his future?

pairing: namjoon x reader

genre: mafia AU, pining, eventual smut

rating: 18+

word count: 2.8K

notes: you guys have been so amazing with your feedback on “guarded” and it warms my heart that you loved hoseok and ms. kim -- so it’s time to show mr. kim some love, too. this series will not be long (probably three parts) but i had to break it into chapters because of the POV shifts. please let me know what you think about this chapter and as usual thank you so much to all the tiger wives and my amazing betas @ladyartemesia and @hobi-gif.

this series is dedicated to the amazing @sahmfanficbts who is an incredible writer, an awesome woman, and kim namjoon’s number one fan.

this fic is a continuation of the Guarded Series but can be read as a standalone piece.

Chapter 01 | 02 | 03 | Epilogue

**********************

“You fired me?”

Namjoon turns at the sound of the quiet accusation that comes from over his shoulder.

There is color in your cheeks as you cross the length of his office. Your jaw is tight, one lock of hair falling free from the loose knot at the base of your neck. One perfectly-arched brow is raised high.

You look hurt.

Beautiful -- but hurt.

Guilt hits Namjoon like a freight train.

“Of course not,” he deflects, taking a seat. He picks up one of the papers scattered across his desktop and pretends to read it carefully. “I reassigned you to a position I believe will be a better fit.”

There’s no way he could miss the irritated breath you suck between your teeth but Namjoon keeps his eyes glued to that paper in his hand. He realizes, absently, that it’s a takeout menu.

He hopes you haven’t noticed the same thing.

“Well, was there some kind of problem with my performance?”

Namjoon winces at the dejection in your tone. He finally forces himself to meet your gaze and finds your eyes brimming with frustration.

He certainly can’t blame you on that account -- you have every right to be frustrated. You shouldn’t be made to feel somehow lacking when it’s him who is lacking in every way that counts.

“Quite the opposite,” he says carefully. “I think it’s a waste of your skills to have you keeping my schedule and taking calls. Seokjin can make better use of your talents on the business side.”

A strained silence settles over the room and Namjoon clears his throat before looking back down to his papers.

“Well, the new girl is terrible at this,” you say flatly. “I certainly wouldn’t have let me walk in here unannounced. She’s too busy looking at her phone to look after you.”

Namjoon knows you’re right about that.

In the few short months you’ve worked for him, you’ve proven yourself to be unnaturally attuned to his needs. You knew without asking which calls he was trying to avoid and when, when to clear his schedule the day after a rough night on the streets. You’ve kept his office stocked with every comfort he’d ever wanted and some he hadn’t even realized he wanted.

You are the single best assistant he’s ever had and he couldn’t stand to keep you around for one minute longer.

You don’t wait for Namjoon to formulate some kind of response to your damning and accurate observation. By the time he looks back up from his papers, you’ve already turned on your heels to leave.

He watches you walk away with regret weighing heavy in his gut.

**************************

Namjoon’s keys clang loudly when he drops them on the table in his foyer.

This penthouse is the best apartment in one of the best buildings in Seoul. It’s filled with lavish furnishings and expensive paintings and boasts a stunning view of the Han River. It’s one of the finest residences in the city.

And Namjoon hates it.

The vacant rooms and the echoing walls seem to mock him, making him all the more aware of how empty it is. How completely devoid it is of any life. Most nights he stays at the office until he’s delirious with exhaustion just so he can collapse straight into bed once he gets here.

Tonight though, for once, this place seemed like a better option.

Namjoon pulls off his tie and releases the first few buttons of his shirt before pouring a scotch.

He’s drinking too much these days -- he knows it -- but the drinks help slow the constant movement of his mind. They help dull the anxiety that seems to take over when he’s too still for too long.

He walks to the window to look out over the night sky.

This is his favorite way to see the city -- high up enough that everything looks pristine. Get closer and you’ll be assaulted by the noise and the crowds and the pollution. Get closer and the flaws are too hard to ignore.

“Was there some kind of problem with my performance?”

Your words echo as clearly in Namjoon’s mind as if you’d spoken them out loud in this cavernous apartment. He takes a seat in his plush chair and sips his drink, savoring the familiar burn of the scotch.

He thinks back to when you both were kids.

Your father -- one of the few decent men in his own father’s inner circle -- didn’t bring you around much. He can only recall a few social functions you’d attended before taking off to university. News of your father’s death came shortly after that and it had been years since Namjoon had even spared a thought for you.

Then you came walking through his office door.

You definitely weren’t a kid anymore, that much was clear.

What was much less clear was why you -- a college graduate -- turned up one day, desperate for a job. He hadn’t questioned your need for fast work and fast money and you hadn’t questioned the long hours and strange requests.

You repaid him with a flawless work ethic.

And he repaid you by fantasizing about fucking you blind over his desk basically every chance he got.

So yeah, there was a problem, all right.

The problem was Kim Namjoon.

*********************

“There you are.”

The voice on the other end of the line practically slithers into Namjoon’s ear when he answers the late call.

“Mina,” he sighs, infusing the name with a displeasure that comes through loud and clear across the connection. “This line is for business only, you know that.”

Mina makes an exasperated sound.

“I wouldn’t have to call your cell if you’d return my messages from the office. I’ve been trying to reach you for more than two weeks now. I’m starting to feel like you’re avoiding me.”

Namjoon pulls the phone away to allow himself a long exhale before putting it back to his ear.

“How did you get this number?”

“You’re hung up on that?” Mina groans. “Honestly, Namjoon. I reached out to your new assistant who was more than happy to pass it along.”

Fuck. He’s going to have to fire the new girl, isn’t he?

“She’s a nice girl,” Mina muses. “Far more competent than that last assistant of yours. Excellent decision on replacing that woman if she fails to complete a task as simple as delivering a message. Three messages, actually.”

Namjoon mulls that information over in silence.

“Where is your mind these days, Mr. Kim?” Mina tries to cover her displeasure with a laugh but he hears it anyway. “You’ve been so distant lately. It’s been too long since we had the chance to enjoy one another’s company.”

Namjoon can envision the pout she is wearing on the other end of the line and it aggravates him beyond belief. Pouting ranks near the very top of his least favorite female manipulation tactics.

Pouting makes him want to put his fist through a wall.

“Are you still there?”

“Yes,” he mutters. “I’m here.”

“Are you drunk?”

Namjoon grits his teeth, fingers tightening around his glass.

“No, Mina,” he grinds out. “Not drunk. Just not in the mood. Not anymore.”

She sputters on the other end of the line as Namjoon ends the call.

Maybe he should feel bad about being so blunt, but he doesn’t. It’ll be a week before she’s onto the next wealthy, connected man. Women like Mina make sport of locating and latching on to power.

She’ll survive.

Namjoon stares out into the night sky and sips his scotch, letting his mind wander back to the one piece of the conversation that did capture his interest.

What are the chances that you -- a woman with seemingly unerring attention to detail -- forgot to deliver three separate messages from the same caller?

He contemplates that in the dark.

How odd.

***********************

YOU

Kim Namjoon was the most serious boy you’d ever seen.

Even as a young man, he seemed to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders. You can still close your eyes and remember exactly how he looked back then -- standing solemn at his father’s side, lanky body swimming in a suit he’d not yet grown into. His hair just a touch too long and falling into his eyes.

You thought he was the most handsome boy in all of Korea.

Namjoon kept mostly to himself -- no easy task given that his status alone made him the most celebrated catch amongst the children of the Gajog.

Everyone fought for the attention of the boy who would be king.

It would have been so easy for him to abuse the power he had over his peers, to treat them with disrespect, but Namjoon never did. You noticed how kind he was to the children who idolized him. You noticed how well he managed the volatile moods of his alcoholic father. You noticed how he hovered protectively over his sister.

He never noticed you, of course.

Your own father was careful to limit your exposure to the Gajog and as such, you lived on the outskirts of the social circle. By the time you were a teenager, you’d only spoken to Namjoon directly a handful of times. The few times you did see him face-to-face, you’d had to suffer through that awkward moment before his eyes lit with recognition.

It always took a minute for him to remember who you were, but when he finally did -- every time he finally did -- your heart would stop just a bit at his shy smile.

That was the image you held on to when you held your breath and walked into his office a few months ago. You’d taken a deep breath and prayed that the quiet, kind kid you’d known so long ago hadn’t changed too much over the years. And then you stepped into his posh office.

Kim Namjoon definitely wasn’t a kid anymore.

The Namjoon who stood up from behind his desk to bow a greeting was nothing short of devastating.

Standing in place of the slender boy from your childhood was a man with deep, dark eyes and a striking, angular face. His suit -- cut to fit every line of his body to an exacting standard -- did nothing to conceal his powerful frame. He had grown into the full lips that once seemed a bit too large for his face.

Without a doubt, he’d become the most handsome man in all of Korea.

The shy smile remained, though -- dimples prominent when Namjoon extended a hand to shake yours and you woodenly accepted, blinking back. You’d realized, absently, that you were gawking.

You hoped he hadn’t noticed the same thing.

If Namjoon had picked up on your mortifying reaction to seeing him after all these years, he was far too much of a gentleman to let on. He’d offered you a seat and then listened patiently as you explained that you were in need of a job -- any job -- so long as you could start right away.

You left out the painful details, of course.

Namjoon nodded quietly as you outlined your education and qualifications and emphasized your willingness to serve the Gajog in any role he saw fit. His eyes were warm and reassuring as you spoke, but you still braced yourself for the possibility that he’d send you away empty handed.

He didn’t.

At the end of your impassioned speech, Kim Namjoon made you an offer you could not refuse.

Reporting directly to him and starting right away.

***************************

The serious boy you’d known so many years ago had grown into an even more serious man.

It didn’t take long on the job to notice the bone-deep melancholy that seemed to emanate from Kim Namjoon. He was good at concealing it in front of others but you saw it clearly. The way he would stand at his window at night, drink in hand, brooding. The way the shadows behind his eyes would surface when he thought no one was looking.

But you were always looking.

You wanted so badly to help.

You wanted to do something to help ease the burden he seemed to carry around at all times. So you threw yourself into the work, memorizing his routines and taking note of the things he needed. You organized his files. You streamlined his schedule. You ran interference on Yoongi and Hoseok and Seokjin on the nights when his moods turned dark and ominous.

Tiny gestures, in the grand scheme of things -- but there were days when you could convince yourself the gestures made a difference.

Days when Namjoon would look at you with a quiet appreciation that made you feel heat down to your toes. Days when his eyes would soften as you’d instinctually met some need he hadn’t voiced out loud. Days when the darkness inside of him seemed to recede and one of those heart-stopping shy smiles would emerge.

You convinced yourself over time that this was enough -- that taking care of him like this would be enough for you.

It had to be enough.

To allow yourself to imagine otherwise was nothing short of delusion.

**********************

“Eomma?”

You call out into the quiet as you lock the door behind you. You can barely make out the sound of your mother’s soft reply from her bedroom.

This is where she spends most of her days now, shuffling between her bed and her chair, too weak to stand for more than a few minutes at a time. Pill bottles litter the nightstand, obscuring the yellowing photograph of your parents as newlyweds.

“My sweet Ttal,” she rasps, voice hoarse from disuse, “You’re home.”

“I am,” you sigh, sweeping into the room and pulling off your coat. You bend down to drop a kiss on her forehead before taking a seat at her side. Your mother’s once-luminous skin is now spotted with age, eyes cloudy and dull, but she is still one of the most beautiful women you’ve ever seen.

She flinches when you take one of her hands into your much colder ones.

“Sorry,” you murmur, massaging over the paper-thin skin. “It’s freezing outside. I should have warmed them first.”

She gives your fingers a gentle squeeze.

“Home early again,” she croaks. “Is everything okay at work?”

Her innocent question brings the sadness simmering just under the surface of your thoughts back to a full boil. You still can’t understand why Namjoon chose to reassign you -- and you still can’t forget the sting of getting the news secondhand from your replacement.

Your face falls at the memory and you hope your mother doesn’t notice.

The last thing you’d want to do is add worry to her already long list of concerns.

“Yes, Eomma,” you soothe, smoothing back her hair. She leans into your touch with a tired smile. “Everything is fine. My new boss doesn’t keep me as late as the old one did. But that’s a good thing, right?”

“Right,” she agrees, closing her eyes. “Mrs. Sim left just a short while ago. She brought some Japchae for dinner. Not as good as mine, but not half-bad, either.”

You laugh at the way the corner of her mouth lifts into a smile at her jest.

People like Mrs. Sim are in large part why you’ve fought so hard to keep your mother here in your childhood home. The financial strain has been tough -- particularly when paired with the medical bills -- but you need the help. With no siblings to share your burden, you’ve had to lean on the goodwill of longtime neighbors.

“Leave Mrs. Sim and her Japchae alone mother,” you tease, standing to stretch. “I’m going to get a shower before bed.”

Your mother makes a noise that sounds like approval, but you can tell she’s already drifting off again.

She’s on so many pills these days; a blessing and a curse. More pills means less pain and better rest -- something she desperately needs. But more pills also means far fewer moments of lucidity -- much shorter windows of time for you to enjoy your mother’s quick wit and dry humor.

She’s back in a sleep state before you even make to stand. You stroke your fingertips across her face just as your phone pings in your pocket. You pull it out and very nearly dismiss the routine banking alert altogether -- but something catches your eye.

You swipe into the app to confirm you’re seeing the numbers correctly -- that your tired eyes and tired mind aren’t playing games with you.

They aren’t.

The direct deposit of your paycheck is coming on the date it should, at the time it should. But the number glaring back at you from the screen is higher -- much higher -- than it should be.

A demotion and a raise in the span of one week?

How odd.

******************************

GLOSSARY:

Gajog: Family

Eomma: Mother

Ttal: Daughter

tag list: @barbikatherine

#namjoon smut #namjoon x reader #namjoon mafia au #bts mafia #ficswithluv #networkbangtan #btswriterscollective #btscreatorscorner #ksmutclub #bangtanarmynet

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imagine-darksiders · 3 years ago

Text

So, here’s a little snippet of my upcoming chapter of Cold Hands, Warm Heart.

Feel free to ignore if you’d rather read the whole thing in one go. This snippet is only about 1000 words long but I feel like it’s juuuuust interesting enough to whet your appetites for the main story. :)

By the way, this part is kind of whumpy. Blood, injuries, bruises etc. So be warned.

The old warrior hobbles eagerly towards you, dragging one leg behind him as though it's nothing but a hunk of useless, dead flesh sitting inside his boot. Belatedly, he hopes you'll assume that the water trickling down his face is merely from the incessant rainfall and not from his eyes watering thanks to the sodding, great bruise that's already sprouted across the bridge of his nose. Yet, in spite of the blurry vision and the aggravated pain in his fractured shinbone, Thane's relief at just knowing you're alive temporarily overrides the agony from his injuries...

...Injuries he forgets to hide until he sees your hand fly up to your mouth.

Wincing at the frozen, wide-eyed stare you’ve locked him in, Thane lets out a strained grunt and forces himself to walk a little straighter, placing the weight back onto his wounded leg and plastering on a smile that hardly makes the rivers of blood that pour down his face any less noticeable.

At last, he staggers to a halt and collapses heavily onto his good knee in front of you, his sturdy chest heaving.

“You're alive,” he sighs wearily, more for his own reassurance than yours, “You're alive... The others... are they...?”

Trembling, you lower your hands from your mouth, determined not to make him wait for the answer. “E-everyone's alive, Thane,” you tell him with your eyes glued to the bruise blossoming over his nose, “A little beaten up, but... they'll be fine.”

Bowing his head, the maker lets out the enormous breath he'd been holding onto. “Thank the Stone... When the Guardian ploughed through the village, I.... I thought, you might've been...” Trailing off, he averts his gaze to emit a low grumble from the back of his throat before he looks at you again, causing you to gulp when something fearsome and chilling sparks to life in his stormy eyes. “That stone bastard didn't hurt you, did 'e?” the warrior growls.

Lightening flashes above you and you stare up at his glowering face in a daze, the world around you cold and quiet whilst crimson rivulets trickle steadily and relentlessly out of a gash in his temple, pushed by every pulse of his immense heart.

Not even the rain can wash the blood away fast enough.

You have to squeeze your eyes shut after a few seconds, fighting to regain your composure when the coppery stench permeates your nostrils and conjures up memories of crimson streets utterly saturated with life's most precious liquid.

Thane notices that you've begun to sway on your feet and, without thinking too hard about it, he reaches out a hand, curling his fingertips around your torso and effectively propping you upright. His heart-rate spikes in the meantime, now more concerned than ever that you've suffered in some, unseen way. Before he can bare his tusks and promise to tear the Guardian limb from limb however, your eyes flicker open again and you swallow thickly, glad that the rain is disguising your tears.

“No, no,” you sniff, wiping at your eyes to banish the terrible memories vying for your attention, “The Guardian... he didn't hurt me.”

The hand that isn’t holding you upright moves to his chest and he splays his fingers out over it, mumbling, “Stone be praised...”

“But – shit, Thane – Look what he did to you!” you continue, pressing your hands earnestly to his glove.

“What, this?” The warrior glances down at himself and gives you a tusky smirk. “Ach, nothin' wrong with a few more battle scars. Ain't like they'll make this mug any uglier, eh?”

He allows a glimmer of satisfaction to ignite in his chest when the attempt at humour is rewarded by your weak, wet bark of laughter, although the humour fades almost as swiftly as it had come and you suck down a hitching breath, turning away from him and looking towards the intact staircase.

“Eideard and Death...” you begin hesitantly, “They'll need help.”

Following your gaze, Thane's face drops and he shifts uneasily.

Though it's a loathsome thing for the proud warrior to admit out loud, he grits his teeth and gruffly says, “I'm in no fit state to assist. Reckon I'd only get in the way n' give the old man somethin' else to worry about.”

Your only response is to let out an evasive hum whilst you continue staring at the path ahead.

You never said that it needed be Thane who went to help.

Gradually, your brows knit together until they form a hard, determined line.

The old warrior casts glances between you and the direction your eyes are pointed, his expression becoming more and more incredulous with every turn of his head. He doesn't like stormy cloud that's growing on your face. It's similar to the look Karn gets whenever the youngling is about to make a stupid decision.

“Lass,” Thane growls warningly, “Whatever’s goin’ through that head of yours, knock it off. You’ve done enough...”

Have you?

If it weren’t for you and Death, the Guardian wouldn’t have even woken up to wreak this havoc on Tri Stone and the makers. If you’d have just stood your ground and stopped the Horseman from putting that damn corrupted heart stone into the construct, nobody would be in this mess. You could have found another way...

Huh... Is this your fault?

‘Well,’ you say to yourself, eyeing the blood oozing from Thane’s nostrils, ‘I’ve certainly done enough to make things go wrong... Maybe it’s time I helped do something right.’

You take a breath and begin sidestepping around him, shaking your head apologetically. “I'm sorry, please don't be mad. But I – I have to go!”

At once, the maker’s face grows several shades paler. He’d been so sure that you had the sense to avoid the Guardian now that you’ve seen the damage it can do to a village full of adult makers.

Evidently, he's overestimated the intelligence of humans.

“You don't have to do a bloody thing!” he barks, swiping a hand out after you and growling when you deftly slip around his reaching fingers, “Damn it, girl! Get back here! Don't you dare leave this village! You hear me!?”

He's too late in shoving himself up off the ground and hobbling after you. On any other day, he'd manage to catch you in just a few, short strides, but with the injury to his leg, he doesn't have a chance of keeping up. The first step he takes is too sudden, too vicious on his battered limb and he stumbles immediately, throwing a hand out to catch himself on the training dummy nearby. He raises his head and his expression contorts, eyes growing wide when he sees that you're almost at the top of the steps.

Huffing like a frantic bull and woefully out of options, he tries for rage instead, hoping that he could frighten you into returning.

So, sucking down a lungful of air, he roars, “HUMAN!” and uses the dummy to desperately drag himself upright. However, when you still don't turn around, and instead hop over the lip of the staircase, he peels his lips back, bares his teeth and all but howls, “Y/N!”

......

Sadly, his efforts prove to be in vain.

You don't return to the steps, you don't even turn around, you simply break into a jog and vanish inside the waiting tunnel, followed by a foreboding snarl of thunder.

#darksiders #darksiders 2 #Thane #Cold hands warm heart #chwh #angst #whump #blood #mentions of blood #ptsd #injuries #bruises #protective Thane is protective as usual #reader

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wdwmarveldisney · 4 years ago

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🥺👉👈 Could I maybe request a doctor who x reader with a younger, more innocent teenage reader? And the doctor gets protective over them, especially when they could be in danger. Any doctor could fit. (sorry if this is not enough information I'm new to making requests)

Let them go

Eleventh Doctor x platonic!teen!reader

Summary: When the Doctor takes you to your favourite musical, things once again don’t end well.

Masterlist

A/N: Ok so I loved this request and thank you so much. You are so sweet. Don’t worry about how information there is, I just hope that you like it. I may have mixed a little Newsies in here because, well I love it and I honestly think about how I would a hundred percent ask to go there if I was travelling with the Doctor.

Not my GIF

Shaking violently when travelling seemed to be the only flaw of the TARDIS and even then, it was only because the Doctor was a terrible pilot. He had tried to convince you otherwise but you'd met River on more than one occasion and she had actual evidence for her argument so excuse you if you sided with her. But that didn't mean that you hated it; every time it happened, you'd grin real big because it was just yet another reminder of the chaos that came with the Doctor. You had a usual place by the controls, one where you were often moved from during flight to avoid you being in the way. Most of the time you ended up in one of the seats, watching his every move in hopes of learning what any of it meant. River had promised to teach you when you were older, said you could leave the Doctor in the 1920s where he apparently thrived and she'd teach you how to the drive the TARDIS.

Right now however, you were here in 2017 New York, at your request. You had asked to see the recording of Newsies after a small (ok so maybe the exact opposite of small) obsession with the musical over the years. You were surprised when all the Doctor had to do was make a call and suddenly you were right at the front with the opportunity to go backstage afterwards too. The inner fangirl was hard to control as the two of you headed to the doors and you managed to stumble slightly but he had caught you before you could fall into the wooden doors. Pouting as he laughed, you tugged his bow tie hard making him stop with a frown and a hand going to readjust it. He scanned your attire with an amused smile which resulted in a flick to the head from you. "Ow, I didn't say anything!"

You walked out the TARDIS, breathing in the smell of hotdogs and petrol before facing him with a small frown, "You were thinking it. I can wear a Newsies shirt if I want to wear a Newsies shirt," he put his hands up in surrender as he walked out too and then quickly turned to lock the doors. You tugged at the shirt in question as you glanced round the empty alley, waiting for him. It was a few seconds before you felt an arm fall into your shoulders and quickly you began to walk to the streets with big smiles on your faces. In the small time you had come to know the Doctor, he had become like family. You had been quite sheltered growing up, never seen much trouble but that's kinda expected from a small town family. When you started travelling with the TimeLord, you saw a lot of bad stuff, things you had never even thought possible and so naturally, he was protective. He was like an older brother, maybe a dad ish vibe.

Your steps were in time with his as you approached the theatre, huffing at how long the queue to get in was. Finally in line, you tapped your foot patiently and suddenly, the question had slipped from your lips without much thought, "How did you get good tickets?" He paused, reaching up to fiddle with his bow tie nervously before straightening out his tweed jacket. He avoided eye contact and instead stared at the bright lights surrounding you guys, "Well, um, I helped write it. Historical facts and stuff," you watched him shrug with terribly faked nonchalance. Jaw dropping, your eyes went comically wide as you stuttered out, "You- They- What?" Unbelievable. Of course he knew about your obsession with the musical and failed to mention his involvement with writing it.

It was a couple hours later and you were waiting by the Doctor's side as the theatre cleared out. He had spent the whole musical jittery and chatty, clearly not good with just sitting there and watching. Several times someone had complained and you had had to talk with him about it. He was a literal child at times. But despite the fact he had muttered about his hate for Twitter after the girl next to you guys tweeted a picture of herself and her friend there, you enjoyed yourself. The musical was just as great as the first time you watched the recording, if not better. And now, you couldn't stop bouncing in excitement. You were actually going backstage, and you were going to meet the cast of a musical you have obsessed over for years.

But of course, with the Doctor, things never happened that easily.

The TimeLord had pulled out his sonic screwdriver to fiddle with while you waited and frowned at the noise it made. You caught his muttering and huffed, already knowing that look on his face. Concern, anger and a touch of excitement. "Don't say it," his eyes slowly left the device in his hands as he raised an eyebrow at your words. Someone was just leaving the backstage area but neither of you noticed as you sighed, "Why does something always have to happen? One good, non-alien day is all I ask. Is that even possible with you?" He grinned goofily at you with a breathy chuckle before raising the screwdriver in the air and scanning your surroundings. You jumped at the tap on your shoulder, facing the crew member with fists raised like that would do something. "Oh,"

"I was sent to get you. What's he doing?" You glanced to the Doctor, who now stood on one of the seats and you shrugged, arms crossing over his chest. Looking between both men, eventually you answered, "I find it best not to ask until he gets that look on his face," the guy frowned as he watched the Doctor jump from the seat and run up an aisle and look through one of the doors. As the two of you watched him lock the door with the screwdriver, the crew guy asked, "What look?" Going to respond, you stopped yourself once seeing the dark look of his face. The one that ensured mortal danger and most likely ended with the two of you saving the world. Again.

"That look," the guy watched you point to the alien as he made his way over to you by jumping over one of the seats. His arm landed on your shoulders as he huffed slightly from all the running round, "Right okay then, possible shapeshifter, very dangerous and kills for the hell of it. Also, amazing dancers and have a tendency to be really funny. Ready?" As he spoke, he looked the guy up and down in a calculating way as if he was possible suspect. You ignored the shock and fear on the guy's face in front of you and instead tilted your head in debate, "I mean, yeah sure," with a laugh, he clapped his hands together and approached the crew member. He too ignored the expression or he just didn't notice with how quickly his mind was now working. He smiled, hands clasped in front of him as he did another look over the guy before speaking, "Ok, we're ready to go. Should probably check out backstage first," he looked to you and you nodded in agreement. "Well," he paused as he placed his hands on the guy's shoulder, looking at him with a raised eyebrow. Panicky look still clearly painted on his features, his voice shook as he managed, "Carl,"

"Well Carl, lead the way," gripping the clipboard in his hands tighter, Carl turned around and began to walk up the stairs and backstage with the two of you following. You stared at your feet as you walked, pout on your lips as you thought, "So, when you say very dangerous...?" The Doctor paused before backtrack king to you and placing his hands on your shoulders whilst ducking his head down to meet your eyes. He had such certainty and determination that you knew he wasn't lying when he said, "Nothing bad will happen to you, I promise," a chuckle left your lips as you punched his shoulder, smile lighting up your face as he remained unbelievably serious, "Well duh. I've got my own hero. And you know I'd haunt the hell out of you," he shook his head, smile fighting it's way to his face as the two of you began to walk behind the curtain.

So apparently the Doctor isn't great with promises or at least, that's what you gather when the two of you were walking down a deserted corridor and something had grabbed you from behind. The last hour had been the two of you searching in the dark, trusting no one since this alien shapeshifted. Two crew members were found dead and another missing so the Doctor insisted on going to find her and well, naturally you followed without question. And now you had a claw to your throat as you whimpered at how hard the alien was pulling your hair. This made the Doctor turn, eyes darkening when he saw you struggling and crying quietly to yourself. "Let them go," it was practically a whisper but it echoed in the hall, making the creature laugh. "Why would I do that?" The voice was deep and distorted and almost robotic, "They'll be so much fun," the last word was spat, venom in the voice making whimper again. You shook violently and the Doctor met your terrified eyes with his remorseless ones. "Why are you here? Order the Shadow Proclamation states Earth is a Level five planet. Do you know what they'd do to you?" He took a few taunting steps forward, head almost bowed in anger.

A small scream left your lips as the claw made a small cut in your throat and the Doctor seemed to tense. Rolling out his shoulders, the TimeLord uncharacteristically smirked as his fingers toyed with the screwdriver in his hands and he laughed almost hollowly, "I know about your people. I have fought your people time again and again and again. And do you want to know what I remember?" There was a pause in his words, only audible thing being your small cries, "You really don't like high frequencies," he raised an eyebrow as he pressed a button and the alien began to freak. His hands slammed over his ears and he stumbled back, essentially freeing you. You managed to make your way to a worried and panicking Doctor before the two of you rushed down the hall and inside a changing room. You fell back against the door as the whir of the screwdriver and the click of the lock and the huffs of your breaths filled the room.

Suddenly the small device was stuck in your face, scanning you up and down before you smacked it away. He gave you a pointed look before carrying on, no doubt scanning for any other type of harm. He was in protective mode which wasn't uncommon but could get annoying when he wouldn't stop checking up on you. With a frustrated expression, you snatched the screwdriver from his hands and shook your head when your eyes met, “I’m fine,” you made sure to emphasise the last word and the Doctor mimicked you under his breath like a three year old. Scoffing, you pointed the screwdriver at him in warning but he just simply took it back with a small huff.

And then there was a bang at the door and the two of you were reminded of the danger you were facing this time round.

#doctor who #doctor x reader #platonic #teen!reader #eleventh doctor x teen!reader #eleventh doctor #eleventh doctor x reader #request

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