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script-nef · 3 years

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So why won’t you realise it '^' | Gojou Satoru

Category: fluff

1.9k words; Movie date [2/6]

Spoilers of Howl’s Moving Castle!! Beware!!

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“Eh, Shouko! What do you mean you can’t make it?”

“I mean, another person is about to come in and they need me to heal them. By the time I’m done the movie will be finished.” Shouko’s voice over the phone is laced with annoyance and sadness coupled with lethargy. You don’t know how she pulls off such a unique combination of emotions but she somehow accomplishes it every time. “And I was looking forward to it…”

This would have been the first time you had a break with her since the trip to France. And while she enjoyed it a lot, the same couldn’t be said for the two males. Which was weird since Gojou is infatuated with sweets and Ken-chan agreed to come. So it was kind of weird when there was a tense atmosphere between them. You know your brother and Gojou are nearly polar opposites, but their animosity wasn’t usually that strong.

They brushed it off as nothing when you asked if something was wrong, which was sort of dubious since you could kind of see the black cloud looming over the both of them, but you let it go. If it was something important, they would be able to handle it themselves or report it to you. You couldn’t sense any cursed spirits nearby so you guessed that they were just in a bad mood for some reason.

Still, you had a wonderful time and found some new snacks that everyone enjoyed. So a day well spent, all in all.

And Ken-chan told you to tell him if Gojou ever offers overseas trips or anything similar, so he must have enjoyed it. Maybe you can ask Gojou to take all of you to Denmark one day.

“Ah… my dear Howl. Life and curses separate us again.” Her voice is full of sadness now, no doubt mourning over her chance of watching her favourite character on a huge screen with surround sound disappearing.

“It’s okay! I’ll bring you the figurine and we can watch it again here in about… uh…”

“Ten years?” She sounds like she’s about to drop dead.

“Uh… yes… But maybe five years? Hopefully? You know, I shouldn’t watch it without you. I’ll come back to school.”

“No, no. Watch the movie. At least you’ll get to see it. Ah, they’re coming now so I have to go.”

“Ah, okay. Bye, Shouko! Stay positive!”

A non-committal sigh accompanies a small “Bye” before the call clicks off. A frown takes over your face at the lost opportunity for her. She was looking forward to this for a long time and you leapt at the chance for another girls’ day out. Being able to watch a childhood favourite is an added bonus. But now you’re standing in the movie theatre, the ticket desk just across the room and an extra on your hand.

It’s a shame because it cost quite a lot. Shouko is definitely going to mope about this when you get back and maybe start smoking again. She always has a pack on her even if she said she quit, and smokes one if she’s stressed or angry. You should call someone and make sure somebody takes it away from her.

You should probably hold onto the ticket and give it back. Or maybe that would make it worse for her, serving as a reminder of this day. Conflict rages inside your head. There’s a high possibility of either decision breaking her heart. Again. A buzz from your phone saves you the trouble of deciding.

Shouko: I sent someone as my replacement.

A tap on the shoulder makes you turn as you type in a reply and you come face to face with a black jacket. Gojou’s head pops down.

“Hey there. I think you called for a replacement!” He seems to be in a ridiculously good mood, even more so than usual. Maybe his students successfully finished another mission. Which is great. It also means more paperwork for you. Which is not so great.

“How did you com—ah. Teleportation.”

“Ding ding ding! Correct!” He's been using the skill more frequently lately, popping in and out of places like one of those Whac-A-Mole games. . It gives you heart attacks all the time and you’re sure he gets a kick out of it. You saw how his smiles widen when you flinch or react. Thankfully it’s when you’re alone so other people never see you jump what feels like a metre into the air.

“Do you want popcorn?” He breaks you out of your thoughts. “I think they have the new caramel flavour. Apparently it’s way too sweet.” So perfect for Gojou. Even though he’s asking if you want it, there’s a spring in his step which definitely means he’s getting some. Probably the biggest option they have.

And you’re proven right because he comes back with two huge buckets which look impossible to finish. When you try to object, he cuts off with “I’ve eaten three buckets before. Alone.” With the smile he’s giving you, it really doesn’t sound like he’s joking. You try to take one to lighten the load but he says it’s alright.

He signals the way to the theatre rooms with his head, walking beside you as you find your way.

“So what’s the movie?” Your head snaps to him in confusion.

“You don’t know?” A shake and a shrug. “It’s Howl’s Moving Castle. This was Shouko’s idea since she loves it and this year is Studio Ghibli’s 40 year anniversary. The cinema is having an exclusive showing of their movies this month. Only one session per movie, for some reason. Surely they would make more money if they played it over multiple days, but. I dunno. Executives make weird decisions.” A light scoff from him to tell he knows exactly what that’s like. His hatred for the higher-ups runs deep. You don’t push it.

“So she wanted to come but got held back at the last minute?”

“Yeah. Ah, here are our seats.”

You’re placed in the very middle of the room and you both make yourselves comfortable. Shouko went all out for this movie, upgrading the seats and making it a recliner. Your poor back, abused after sitting in chairs and hunched over computers for so long, practically melts into the plush cushion. It’s so comfortable that you might fall asleep in it if it isn’t Howl that’s about to start.

Feet dangling in the air, you look over to Gojou to see him on his phone. It looks like he’s in a chatroom and you catch the words ‘Shouko’ and ‘favour’ before looking away. You didn’t mean to peek, but it’s not like you can consciously not read something. It was in your line of sight and you averted your eyes as soon as you realised what you were reading. Your brother brought you up better than to pry into other people’s businesses, even if it’s really, really tempting.

“Phones need to be placed on silent, you know.” The ads are coming on the screen. He smiles at you, slipping it into his pocket.

“Just talking to Shouko. She says she hasn’t even started properly.”

Disappointment fills you. Gojou is a good friend to watch this with but you hoped Shouko would somehow miraculously finish in time. She would be devastated.

“I’ll have to make this up to her when we get back. Give her the figurine and keep her hap—ah! I forgot! Gojou, I was supposed to ask someone to take her ciga—” He cuts you off with a light pat on your hand.

“Don’t worry, I did it already. All of them are safe out of her reach and I gave her packets of hot chocolate instead. When we get back, she’ll have drunk at least half of them and be in a good mood.” What a Gojou-like replacement. He smiles like a child wanting pats on the head for a job well done. You just barely catch yourself from moving.

Gojou gets a rep for being aloof and neglectful, but he does take care of the people he holds dear to him. His friends, members of the school, his students. You hope you’re included in the list.

Actually, the more you think about it, the more you realise he’s different from initial perceptions. You learn more and more about him as time goes on, in the most delightful sense. He’s somewhat like an onion, new characteristics being revealed every time a layer is peeled. A snicker escapes at the thought of Gojou dressed up like an onion, just waddling around. He shoots you a questioning head tilt which you wave off.

In the years that you’ve known him, he made himself into a trustworthy friend. One full of laughs and ridiculousness. Maybe it’s his childishness that puts you at ease, but he’s incredibly comfortable and easy to relax around. Thoughts trail and the words fly out of your mouth before you even think.

“You know, I think you would make a wonderful boyfriend.”

He freezes completely, like somebody’s zapped him in place. You stare at him, wondering what’s wrong, but the lights dim and by the time he gathers coherence, your concentration is on the opening sequence.

“Ah, that was so good! Ugh, I love Howl. Isn’t he so cool?” You skip out of the room, remembering to take the figurines provided at the exit, with Gojou trailing behind you. “You know how she asks him to wait for her in the past? The first thing he says to her in the movie is ‘I’ve been looking everywhere for you.’ He searched for her the entire time! This is modern poetry. This.”

“Do you think Howl would be a good boyfriend?” The question stops you. It’s different than usual for some reason, the voice asking the question and the intensity of it. He’s still his aloof self, all smiles and grins, but there’s something you can’t quite place that’s wrong. It’s unnerving, but you diligently answer his question.

“Um, I mean, yeah? Look at how cute he is with Sophie. See?” The figurine is a frozen shot of Howl and Sophie dancing in the rain with an umbrella that’s not being useful at all. They’re both incredibly detailed, so much so that you can see their clothes and skin drenching wet. Wow, this is actually a phenomenal job. Shouko will be so happy. It makes your heart lighter knowing that at least something might light up her day.

“Why is he cool?” Gojou seems to be invested in Howl. It confuses you since he just watched the movie with you and he saw how awesome Howl is.

“Hm, well for one he can do magic.” He opens his mouth but you shush him with a finger to his lips. “Yeah, I know, what we have is kind of like magic too. But theirs is just… different. He just makes it seem kind of elegant. And he overcame his fear just for Sophie. Remember the scene with Sulliman and in the cluttered bedroom? He still found the strength to protect her even though he was so scared before. It’s admirable. I guess I like strong guys.”

“Hmm~” His tone is contemplative. “You know I’m stronger than him, right?”

A question mark forms over your head. He’s being really weird today. “Yeah? You’re the strongest in the universe, silly. What’s up with you?” Gojou just chuckles and ruffles your head.

“Nothing, nothing. Just making sure you know.” He slings his arm around your shoulder, the intensity gone and the light spring in his step back. “Who else do you think is strong?”

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7wanderingpaws · 3 years

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Captain Bucheon 03

Warnings: strong language

Word count: 5.9K

story masterlist masterlist

tags: @wooya1224 @to-all-the-stories-i-love @jennxx3 @realllllrica

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Third: Saving is Caring

“Lee Nari!”

Someone was shouting your name but you couldn't tell who exactly because the entire corridor you were residing on - the forsaken fifth floor, also the top floor of the building without an elevator - was flooded with girls. They were rushing to the opposite direction you were heading to, and you frowned deeply at anyone who made even the slightest brush against you - or your chest.

“Come to room number 501!” they shouted again.

“As if,” you scoffed to yourself and dodged one hand that was about to land on your breast.

“Aish, I was gonna try if they were actually real,” you heard the girl whine but her voice got quickly blocked out by exciting squeals.

Finally managing to land in your room, you basically kicked the door open, pissed, to find Yuyeon preparing in front of her make-up mirror. Her eyes were shining and she seemed way too happy.

“What the hell is happening out there?” you grumbled, slamming the door shut with your foot to isolate yourself from the annoying squeals. “It looks like a sect or something.” You dropped your bag in the corner and threw yourself on the bed, needing the relief in your tired muscles.

Running had been taking its toll on you the past weeks, let alone your job was tiring mentally, as well. There hadn't been any slip-ups or issues anymore like last time for which you were eternally thankful. That one time - yeah, you weren't sure you could deal with that again.

“You are coming toooo!” squealed Yuyeon as well and was fast to drop the blusher on her messy table before standing and jumping over to your bed, making you fly up on the mattress too.

You whined again and tried to kick her off your bed but she climbed over you and wiggled her eyebrows at you, a cheeky glint leaving an unease in your tummy.

“We-” she leaned into your ear, “are going to watch porn.”

You gasped and pushed her off of you, pink rising up to your cheeks. “What? Are you nuts? Why would you watch-”

“C'mon, Nari,” giggled Yuyeon, sitting up properly to let you sit up as well. Her shirt slid off her shoulder and her bra strap was showing which made you reach up to bring the shirt back to its original place. “I know you've already experienced it all but-”

This time, a horrified gasp left your mouth and you were fast to shut her up with a: “I haven't experienced those things at all!”

She frowned, pouting. “But you made out with Baekhyun and you said he touched you-”

Your head was starting to spin as you shook it so violently. “No, no, no, don't bring that up. He stopped when he found out I'm a virgin and it doesn't even matter!!”

“But Nari, he is a grown up male that knows eeeeeverything there is to know about, you know, sex, and he was hot and -”

“Yuyeon, please,” you begged, hiding your face behind your palms. You felt attacked at the memories of you and Baekhyun being all touchy. “It isn't that exciting,” you tried but you knew it was a terrible, terrible lie.

She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. “You don't have to come if you don't want to but it will be fun with all the girls. We can talk about boys and men and, I dunno, just enjoy.”

You pursed your lips, not so sure. A good rest was what you needed, NOT temptation. Let alone, you wouldn't be able to get Baekhyun out of your mind were you to watch stuff like that. When you were about to speak up, Yuyeon added:

“You know, ever since stuff happened, we didn't really go out like that anymore… I kind of miss fooling around with you and just going against the rules - although now we can't do it since we are old enough to be naughty, but despite that I just miss doing cheeky stuff with my bestie.”

It was heart-warming to see Yuyeon be honest with you. Even the fact that she mentioned Baekhyun was a step forward for neither of you mentioned him unless necessary. Yuyeon was tiptoeing around you for one year in order to give you time to get over the mess that the mentioned male did to you and then she grew accustomed to your indifference towards your surroundings. You didn't talk about it and she didn't want to pry too much, always listening to bits of your thoughts here and there.

Yuyeon didn't feel guilty for mentioning Baekhyun's name; if anything, she hoped that you got over it and wouldn't react to him too much. For her, of course, Baekhyun was still on the “hated people” side like Chul. But he was also your ex and you were talking about girl stuff. Exciting stuff. Mature stuff. Baekhyun's name had to be mentioned for he was the whole package in the past.

“I know, and I'm sorry about that,” you murmured, averting your gaze. Her knees were bent, her skin showing as her shorts had ridden up. “We should start getting back on the track, right?”

The corners of Yuyeon's lip lifted in a small, encouraging smile. “Yes. So how about starting with the porn?”

You laughed out loud, smacking her thigh loudly, making her wince. “Okay, okay, just because it's you!”

“No, it's 'cause you are super curious as well!” she said, sticking her tongue out at you. “How it's all done and stuff.” She was growing red in her face, but her blush looked pretty and made her even more youthful. It made you grin wider and you shook your head at her and also stuck your tongue out, playing the silly one.

“You talk too much! Go finish your make-up, you're friggin ugly,” you rolled your eyes in mock and climbed off your bed, ready to change into more comfortable clothes.

When her slap landed on your butt, you abruptly turned around, glaring at her but both of you eventually giggled. Yes, this will be the best way to get your mind off stuff and hopefully have a good girls' night.

The room 501 was crammed with girls and pink and magazines and make-up and perfumes and smartphones with instagrams open. They were all chatting excitedly while one of the girls, you presumed the person living in this room, was behind her laptop, searching the websites that already screamed porn.

Both you and Yuyeon plopped down on the bed, shimmying yourselves between two girls who immediately took you in, wanting to socialize. That part was a little painful on your side as you weren't looking for new friends; especially not the ones who kept commenting on your chest and choice of clothing.

“Isn't it hard to run for you?”

“Don't people stare a lot?”

“Has anyone touched without asking?”

“How do you buy your bras? Korea is full of A cups and B cups are already considered huge anyway!”

You sighed and ensured the very concerned girl that you were able to get the cup of your size just fine - though, only in a few shops that were designed for ladies that were more blessed. You definitely couldn't just walk into any shop of your liking.

“Okay, girls, it's about to start!” shouted one and smashed the space on her keyboard, starting the forsaken video.

Everyone went silent right away, almost waiting with bated breaths for what was about to go down.

With a small frown, you were focusing on the small story they were trying to fool you with, immediately presenting a beautiful woman with blue eyes, of course. The man, though, wasn't a catch at all - not for you, at least. Some girls' eyes sparkled at the sight of the main male character and the way he was tanned and incredibly muscly.

“He looks like he could crash her bones,” whispered eagerly Yuyeon into your ear while not tearing her eyes away from the screen.

You hummed; the more it went on the more distrubed you started to feel. It was all incredibly bizarre and their love story was faced paced.

Founding yourself zoning out and blocking out the scenes that quickly grew heated and, well, disturbing to you, you spotted a calendar of models on the desk. It wasn't too far and you grabbed it quickly, not wanting to be in the line of vision of other girls who were literally drooling while hiding their faces behind their hands at the rated scenes.

Taking the calendar, you listed through what seemed like an endless amount of sexy pictures of firefighters in Bucheon. Just as expected, they were either shirtless or pants-less or both. Thank God they had underwear. You didn’t deny it; they were so handsome it almost seemed questionable. What were they like in real life? Were they really as passionate about their work as it said on the calendar? And, more importantly, were they really as handsome as the pictures were portraying them to be?

You kept listing through the pages, sometimes stopping to read. When you spotted a familiar face though, you almost fainted. On it, the month of May, was none other than Baekhyun. A black leather jacket was on him, underneath he was shirtless with his dark blue ripped jeans low on his hips, red supreme underwear poking out to tease the eager eye. The way they were hugging his thighs had a strong effect on you. As he had his thumb (the one with the mole on it) causally hooked in the belt loop hole, it brought your attention to the thin, and what looked like very veiny, skin that disappeared in the underwear. He had lean muscle that wouldn’t intimidate a girl. In fact, it would affect her heavily. You noticed a few more moles on his abdomen, the ripped muscles making the skin on it exceptionally tight. Saliva collected in your mouth and you quickly swallowed, averting your gaze to the upper part of his face. His hair was styled like a rock star’s with a comma hanging over his forehead, his dark eyes glaring at the camera, charcoal black eyeliner making them seem deadly. His lips were parted ever so slightly, scarcely revealing his front teeth, and your gaze hooked on them just a little while longer than they should have. You remembered the moments he would bite them. When he would lick them. When he would smile with them; or kiss you with them. He looked stunningly hot and dangerous. You couldn’t believe you once had this man to yourself.

You had heart palpitations.

Slapping Yuyeon’s arm, you tried to get her attention. You needed to vent, otherwise you’d suffocate. Yuyeon was too preoccupied with the disturbing video playing which was why the girl sitting on your other side spoke up excitedly into your ear:

“Oh my god, that’s the captain of the police, Byun Baekhyun! My oldest brother went to the same school with him.” She stared at the picture. “He is so fucking hot.” She was basically salivating over the picture. With her words, you felt something move within you. What it was you weren’t sure, but you didn’t like it. It made your chest tighten up and your mood dampen. “There are many hot guys in that calendar but Baekhyun has his own charm. I’d go for him any minute.”

Not sparing any more time with the picture, you harshly turned over the page, revealing a mediocre looking police officer. He was very handsome, thanks to plastic surgery, but after seeing Baekhyun, all the males seemed dull and boring. Despite your wild thoughts, you muttered: “He’s okay, I guess.”

She nudged you with her elbow. “C‘mon, I can see the redness in your cheeks,” she giggled and just in that moment there was a loud moan coming from the laptop. You felt yourself burning up even more and you squirmed on the bed, warmth pooling in your belly. These feelings were so foreign to you.

“You’re friends with Oh Sehun, right?” She was adamant about talking to you. So you nodded in response. “Well, he is good friends with Baekhyun. Yeonhee, the one who lives in this room, got the calendar from him. She likes Sehun but I feel like she has secondary intentions. If she could get Baekhyun she would not hesitate to go after him,” she giggled into your ear just when another moan resembled the room.

You sighed. “Sehun is a good guy, you know?” you muttered to her and looked at her huge eyes, the way they seemed dilated. “I hope you can tell her not to toy with him.” You looked back down, now a doctor on the cover. A doctor?! “Or else she will deal with me and that won’t be nice.”

The girl went silent. Maybe you came off as rude but you didn’t have many friends; nor were you looking for more. So if someone played with someone that belonged to you, they could rest assured you wouldn’t let it slip. “Do you perhaps know Baekhyun?”

And there it went again. Silently, you cursed your luck. This man seemed to be everywhere you went and mentioned by anyone you talked to recently. You never realized just what power Baekhyun had over this city. Realizing you probably took more time to answer, you quickly shrugged your shoulders. “Just a little bit. He is quite older than us so I doubt he has interest in us, kids.” It hurt to say, but you knew it was the closest to the truth. Baekhyun made the age difference between him and you crystal clear and even used it as a barrier between the two of you. Even though he wanted you, it was a crucial reason for him to stop moving forward with you. Or more like, he wanted to take things slow. You scoffed out loud.

“Well, I guess he just hasn't met the right one. The young ones are always better than the older ones. The older guys are just too afraid to admit it,” she told you and leaned further away, most probably wanting to end the conversation. She must have noticed your defensive, indifferent position and figured she wouldn't get a juicy talk with you.

That was fine by you. Because right now your head was so full of him; you couldn’t produce a single comprehensive sentence without giving yourself away. You so wished to meet him again and talk to him. You so wished things would have gone differently between the two of you.

There were now harsh pantings in the background and you groaned inwardly. You slapped Yuyeon’s thigh to finally get her attention. At the impact, she jumped up and glared at you. “I’m leaving,” you mouthed, not wanting to wait for her reply, but she stopped you abruptly.

“Are you okay?” she whispered in your ear, but the disturbing noises were blocking out each of her words.

You only managed to nod quickly before scooting off the bed and, while ignoring the curious stares of the other girls, you quickly made your way out, desperately searching for fresh air that would hopefully help you clear your foggy mind.

Once out in the corridor, you inhaled deeply, trying to shake off the feelings in your body. How could you become so easily affected by a simple picture? It was the stupid background noise, added your brain and you rolled your eyes. You needed to let out your frustration and even though it was hard to believe, you decided you would make good use of it.

You would go running. For the first time. By yourself.

When you reached the running track, the main headlights of the field were already turned off, throwing the space into a darkness lit up by surrounding street lamps. That was good enough, as you seeked some kind of hiding. Deciding to pour your frustrations into your challenge in jogging, you padded over to the running field, feeling the ground softer under your running shoes. There was a group of boys wrapping up a football game while a lone man, a student, was making laps, unbothered by the minimal lighting.Without paying anymore attention to your surroundings, you slowly increased your walking into a light jog, not wanting to strain yourself too much.

Your hair was flowing behind you in a high ponytail while the remnants of winter were biting into your skin, making your cheeks and nose red. You tried to focus on your breathing, wanting to make sure you wouldn't mess it up and therefore increase your stamina but it was fruitless as your mind immediately wandered off to the picture of Baekhyun in that calendar. It effectively quickened your heartbeat and you grew warm all over your body.

After two laps though, you became quickly tired and out of breath, your lungs on fire. There was an uncomfortable, sharp feeling in your side, the pain dull but making moving difficult nonetheless. The man who had been running the whole time without stopping didn't seem to break a single sweat the whole time.

“Oh, isn't that Lee?” you heard the boys talking to each other as they finally managed to clear up the field.

“The one with the boobs?”

You were fast to roll your eyes, angry tears burning up in your eyes at their careless words. Screw them all. Instead of staying on the field, you went inside the gym next to the field to get some water and try to calm down. Even though it was cold outside, a cold drink would hopefully help quieten the small rage inside of you. People like those were the ones you despised. They didn’t know anything about you and, naturally, you didn’t know anything about them. Yet, you were constantly under their scrutiny and sexualized in more than one way.

“Idiots,” you murmured to yourself, your skin heating up at the change of temperature once you entered the small building.

As you were filling up your bottle with the cold water, you heard the jerks entering the gym as well. They were laughing and joking amongst each other, their throaty laughs reaching your sensitive ears.

Cursing under your breath, you finished filling the bottle and turned to leave, just to stand face to face with all of them. They were grouped up on you, smirking.

Without sparing them another glance, you moved to walk around them but someone grabbed your arm, yanking you backwards, your back hitting the wall next to the water filter. It took you off guard and you managed to hit your head, too, and you scrunched up your face, hissing. “You piece of shit,” you spat angrily, your rage growing more when you noticed the dude’s hungry eyes on your chest.

“You surely are feisty! We heard so much from the seniors about you,” one of them spoke up, his eyes barely visible as they were shaped like slits, thin like pupils of a cat in broad daylight. “We all know you like to go against the rules.” A round of snickers resonated the otherwise empty space and you felt your heartbeat pick up in fear.

“Okay,” was your blunt answer and you once again wanted to step aside but the same jerk grabbed your arm, bringing you back. You gritted your teeth.

“You ain’t leaving just yet, little kitten,” he murmured darkly and this time, you felt like you wouldn’t be able to escape. “We won’t do anything bad. Just give us a little show of what you’re hiding underneath that hoodie of yours.”

If someone was living in your body right now, they’d know in an instant something terrible was happening, for your legs were shaking like a jelly, becoming one with the asphalt and therefore making you unable to move. Despite that, you scoffed, stubbornly insisting on showing your confident side. Those idiots wanted a reaction from you, but you wouldn’t give in. “Then turn on some porn. Though I’m not sure you’re ready to see that either with your tiny, premature, out-of-control dicks,” you said in a levelled voice, cutting each word off to emphasize the meaning so that their small brains would understand. “You ain’t shit,” you added when you saw some dudes growing red.

“You little bitch-“

There was an unexpected shadow that swooshed past and just in that second, too many things happened at the same time; a familiar scent hitting your nose; a sound of skin slapping skin reverberated the empty space followed by a groan. “She said to leave her, so respect a lady’s wish,” a low growl reached your ears and you almost fainted when you spotted short blonde hair and a handsome profile. Even from the side you could detect he was glaring, a stern gaze bringing out his authority and dominance that would make anyone quiver and render into submission. “Just a tip for the future if you want to get your dick wet,” added mockingly Baekhyun. He was staring down the group of young students for a little longer, surprisingly none of them making a fuss, before Baekhyun looked down at you, your shocked expression making your eyes much bigger than they usually were. “Let’s go.”

He didn’t wait as he started to walk ahead, only a couple of steps later looking behind his shoulder to double check whether you were following him or not.

Your legs had a mind on their own when they moved after Baekhyun, but your heart was beating crazily fast, the unexpected presence of the only male who was able to make you speechless and make you go crazy at the same time still stunning you. Why was he there? How did he know where you were? Oh, was it because you wished to meet him again? If so, then you wished all your wishes would become true this fast.

He led you outside of the gym, the annoyed voices of the boys barely reaching you now that they were out of ear shot. Cold air hit the dried sweat on your skin, making you shiver. Baekhyun stopped abruptly when he reached the track again and turned to look at you with an unreadable gaze. His heavy breathing was condensing into small puffs, his nose a little red. The chilly air biting his cheeks made his eyes water. You couldn’t stop staring at him and at the way he looked in that moment.

“You should-“

“Thank you,” you muttered at the same time as he spoke up.

Both of you went quiet right away and awkwardness creeped into the space between the two of you. Growing red, you averted your gaze, looking at the ground and hoping your wild heart beat would calm down.

“You should have been more careful,” he finally told you quietly, ignoring your word of gratefulness. There was a slight scolding undertone in his voice. “Those jerks are little kids who think with their dicks.”

You grew even more red at his words. Baekhyun must have heard their stupid request. Your throat restricted and your heart once again started to beat loudly. “I would have been okay,” you insisted. “But thank you anyway.” You meant it. You really did.

Baekhyun saw you averting your gaze again and he took the time to observe you. You were still too young, but he definitely noted the way your facial features matured, with each passing year turning you into more of a grown woman while leaving the teen girl behind. Your hair was long and it seemed you lost some weight in your cheeks. He couldn’t imagine how much of a hard time you were having the whole time he wasn't by your side. And then you had perverts following you around.

He cursed mentally, hating the simplest idea of anyone imaging you in a more mature way than you let on to a plain eye. Those bastards should have been thankful he didn’t actually use fists as he so wished. Because when they asked you to undress, he swore white spots of anger were blinding him, his emotions a wild hurricane of rage and hatred. The only thing moving him forward was to protect you even though you would have hated it.

“Just be careful next time,” he added gently, his features softening.

You looked up at him upon detecting the tone of his voice. “What are you even doing here?” Just then you took notice of his outfit and you recognized it. He was the person running when you arrived. He had been here the entire time, but you were swimming in sweet obliviousness. And just like that, the picture of him in the calendar popped up in your mind, making you avert your eyes right away. Heat pinked your cheeks which Baekhyun mistook for the coldness biting your cheeks.

“I come here to run,” he told you in a somber voice. “And we also work out here with Sehun so if you think I followed you here, you’re wrong.”

“I didn’t think you followed me here,” you retorted, wanting to roll your eyes.

“Well, on the contrary, I didn’t know you run too,” he said, a hint of tease present in his voice, though he didn’t smile. Showing his relief of you communicating with him could be a strategic bad step on his side.

You sighed at the mention of running and the reason behind it. “I’m doing a race at the festival so I have to practice. I’m not enjoying it and I’m not doing it out of my own will.”

“Then why would you do it if you don’t want to do it?” he asked, genuinely confused.

“Because I’m in the student council,” you replied almost in a whine. “They asked me and I couldn’t say no!” You threw your arms around, making it sound like a big deal. And for you, it was a big deal. You didn’t like how you were easily pushed around.

Baekhyun nodded, a small smile stretching his lips when he saw your comprehension. Sweet university life. “You must be very liked by everyone.”

You froze at that. That wasn’t true. How would you tell your ex the reason everyone was all over you was because you had huge tits and you were friends with Chul? “It’s not like that…”

Baekhyun nodded, noting your discomfort but deciding against questioning it. He didn’t think he was anywhere near the position to stick his nose into your business. For all he knew, he’d scare you away like that time in the bar but, frankly, he didn’t even utter a single word that night to give you a reason for your abrupt fleeing.

“So you run here often, huh,” he heard you say and then saw you shuffling your feet, the small stones of the track field rustling under them.

“Yeah, I do,” he replied almost breathily. There was an upcoming question hanging in the air but he already forbade himself to hope.

You bit your lip harshly, bringing Baekhyun’s attention to the action. You were gnawing on it and you felt your body and mind betraying you. You were supposed to be mad at him. You despised this man standing in front of you so why was your heart beating frantically and, at his gentle tone, butterflies fluttering in your tummy? You felt warm just by his presence. He saved you. Yes, he didn’t even touch you, didn’t even take your hand like they do it in the movie. However, you witnessed the rage, the anger, the hatred, the need to fight but going against it so as not to cause problems. He cared about you, and he was still mature about it.

“Okay. Well, then, I guess I’ll see you around,” you muttered eventually, causing Baekhyun to deflate invisibly. An eager question cut through his mind: and when do you come to run here? I don’t like that you run here alone.

“Where do you stay? I’ll take you home,” he spoke up casually.

“I live in the dorms, it’s no biggie,” you shrugged just when the group of boys flooded out of the gym, spotting you and Baekhyun. They were noisy once again and immediately took advantage of the situation when they shouted:

“If it isn’t the love birds! We thought you’d be home and fucking her by now but guess who didn’t get their dick wet now?” They laughed in unison, finding their words funny and mocking.

You pulled a disgusted face, though you reddened in embarrassment at their words, and looked up at Baekhyun who was glaring at them again. “Come, I’ll walk you to your dorms,” he muttered so that only you could hear and this time, he took a hold of your hand, his skin soft and a little dry in your sweaty palm. You were shocked at how quickly your hand clasped around his.

Cat calls reached the both of you as the boys approached you. “Woohoo, they are about to do it-“

Baekhyun was fast. Before you realized the warmth of his hand leaving yours, you heard a loud snap, his fist landing with the dude’s face. You squealed, covering your mouth in shock and just like that, Baekhyun had professionally put the lad down, having both his arms locked behind his back. It vastly made you remember when he did a similar move with your brother in his office at the police station, and chills ran down your spine.

Right. Baekhyun first arrested you, and then your brother who was still in jail until now. Baekhyun lied to you to get closer to you. Right. Right, right, right.

“Don’t ever even imagine her in your filthy mind,” Baekhyun’s voice thundered through the space. It kept growing more distant as you realized the hasty steps you were making backwards before you turned around and started speed walking out of the field and towards the dorms. Angry tears blocked out your vision and you quickly tried to rub your eyes, annoyed that you always let your tough stance sway whenever he was around. He dared to be kind to you. He dared to be soft to you. He dared to-

“Nari! Wait!”

Baekhyun was jogging towards you and your breath hitched in your throat, hearing his fast approaching steps. “Nari!”

Sooner than later he caught your wrist and wanted to stop you but you surprised him. You were now far off the field, not a single soul around. Your palm landed on his cheek and Baekhyun’s face snapped to his right side. “I hate you!” You shouted shakily, more tears spilling down your cheeks, the snot out of your nose. You were a mess. “I hate everything you put me through, Byun Baekhyun! You lied to me! Why did you lie to me?! I loved you!” You shouted again, and squeezed your eyes shut.

Baekhyun slowly turned his head back, your slap still stinging on his cheek. His eyes were wide but he knew exactly what was happening. “C’mon. Don’t hold back. Let it out. Hit me again,” he encouraged in a low tone that made you frustrated even more.

You were breathing raggedly and pushed him in the chest, making him stumble backwards. He could have easily fought you, he could easily stand still, not budging under you, but he let you. He knew you needed this to finally let go of your suppressed feelings and, hopefully, of the heavy past he made you go through. “You fucking liar! You fooled me, played with me, made me dream of something beautiful just for you to crash it! You ruined my family! I hate you! I hate you so much! You make me go crazy with hatred!!!”

Another strong push. He was surprised at how strong you actually were; when emotions spoke, people could be either extremely vulnerable or extremely strong. You seemed to be the opposite, for speaking up about your emotions made you scarily strong. “I hate that you made an idiot out of me! You fooled me and I trusted you the whole time! You locked up my brother! You did it in front of my eyes!! As if I didn’t matter shit to you! You were so fast to let me go when you thought I’m the criminal! That was all my worth to you!” you hiccuped, more cries taking over you as the painful memories kept swimming in front of your eyes, making you relive the emotions, the scenes. Those memories were blinding you and Baekhyun just let you open the Pandora box. You were breaking down.

It hit you too, that you never talked about your feelings. You couldn’t talk for a long while after being in shock at the events, and then you became one with ignorance towards your own emotions.

You took a deep breath and pushed him again just for you to lose your strength that was fueled by deep anger. Baekhyun couldn’t even pretend to step back. Your palms were still, pressing against his sturdy chest but you couldn’t make him move anymore. You were crying now, your voice shaking and your eyes still squeezed shut. “What did I do to deserve this… when all I did was love you honestly, purely,” you wailed, your voice sounding almost like a wolf’s howl in the empty streets of the campus. “I was just seventeen…”

Baekhyun was quiet the whole time, emotions of guilt eating him away just like they had been for the past year. His own heart was in pain and he knew how hurt you were but seeing you like this made his heart split into two. You were a complete, utter mess.

You didn’t know how much time passed without any of you speaking. The only thing you grew to realize was that you were in a tight embrace, the arms of your ex-lover protectively around you as his palm was drawing soothing circles into your back. His breathing seemed much more steady compared to yours, his scent filling your senses with comfort and familiarity you had been looking for ever since you met him a year ago. Your nose was on fire from crying, skin harshly clashing with the cold night air, but Baekhyun's presence made everything seem bearable. Even if it was just for a few minutes that you could pretend all was okay.

Squirming a bit, you moved away from him and he was fast to drop his arms, not wanting to upset you more. Your hand came up to wipe the tears and snot away, not caring you probably looked very un-ladylike in front of your eternal crush. “Leave.” You told him and turned around, heading towards the direction of your dorms. Your head was pounding, making you groan gently at the discomfort.

“Nari, wait,” he tried, making a step after you with a reached out hand but you turned your head as you walked, dismissing him with a single glance.

“I don’t want to listen right now.”

><><><><><><

A/N: sorry it took me a while to update. I hope some people were waiting and looking forward to this chapter even though it took me time ❤️ let me know your thoughts please? ^^

#exowritersnet #baekhyun fanfiction #baekhyun #baekhyun fluff #baekhyun scenario #exo fanfiction #baekhyun angst #baekhyun smut #baekhyun fanfic #exo #CB #mywritings

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wastelandlovingscenarios · 4 years

Note

Hello! Can I request the companions reacting to a cute, sleepy female sole who suddenly becomes affectionate (through words or actions)? Pls make them have a huge crush on the ss ^.^

so cute! i love all your requests! (i’m not proud of this(?)) ❤️

“how much farther is diamond city?” sole whined loudly. she didn’t mean to complain, really, but the fact that she’s been on her feet nonstop for 3 days and getting only 4 hours of sleep every night had been killing her. of course, he noticed this and wanted her to catch more z’s but they were definitely vulnerable and short on time, so they had no choice but to keep pushing. he shot her a glance and noticed how exhausted she looked, sole looked like she could barely even hold a gun properly. “we can always stop by a shack or something.” hearing this, soles head shot up, a relieved sigh escaping her mouth. “well, what are we waiting for then?” he yelped as sole grabbed his hand, running to the nearest building they could find, “h-hey! slow down!”

soon enough, they had both settled down in a small house they had found not even a mile away and dusted off the beds that had been laying there for god knows how long. sole stretched tiredly as she made her way to her companion, who gazed out the window for any nearby enemies. he felt his bed sink as she sat next to him, letting out a yawn. “you should really be getting some sleep,” he muttered, “ill keep watch for tonight.” he was expecting her to head back to her own bed but little did he know, it was the quite opposite of what she was told to do.

Danse:

danse felt his body stiffen as sole rested her head on his shoulder, a choked sound escaping his mouth. “hey, w-what are you doing?! this is inappropriate..!” flustered was an understatement this man was feeling. his heart was thumping inhumanely loud, and he felt like he was gonna pass out any minute. “sorry,” sole sleepily murmured, “i just like having you ‘round me..” he wanted to chide her so bad, but something in him wanted to push her to say more, “i-i, um,-“ he cleared his throat, embarrassed, “am i able to know w-why?”

“i dunno,” god, her voice was so soft when she was sleepy, “i feel safe around you.” he felt his face flush 50 different shades of red as he stuttered, “i-i’m glad i make you feel that way..” he allowed his shoulders to relax as she began to drift off to sleep, her voice getting quieter by the second,

“you make me feel more than that, yknow..?” danse felt his body grow rigid as her words repeated in his head, “what do you mea-“ before he could finish his sentence, sole had fallen asleep against him within no time. as bad as he wanted to wake her up to find out the real meaning behind that message, he decided it was a conversation for another day. for now, her words imprinted on his mind, keeping him wide awake for the rest of the night.

Deacon:

he observed how sole laid on his bed and moved into a somewhat fetal position, her eyes not budging from a certain spot in front of her. out of curiosity, he followed her line of vision and realized that she had been staring at his hands, which were currently fiddling with the gun. with a confused look on his face, he joked, “what? are you into hands or something, charmer?” sole let out a soft chuckle as she used an elbow to prop herself up and punched deacon playfully on the arm. “you’re so stupid deacon,” she bantered, a soft smile playing on her face, “but i can’t lie, you do have nice hands.” deacon let out a dramatic gasp as his free hand covered his mouth, “and what about the rest of me? i’m hurt.” rolling her eyes, sole lightly brushed her fingers against his knuckles and soon rubbed his fingers with her thumb. “well, i never said anything bad about the rest of you.”

“heh, guess you can’t get enough of me.” he was beyond nervous, and was more than grateful that his sunglasses hid it. he hadn’t felt this kind of feeling since barbara, and knew there was no escape to his attraction for her, no matter how hard he tried.

“yeah, i guess i can’t.” she said as she continued to draw figures on his hand, her eyes growing heavy. he noticed how sole kept waking up, trying to keep her hand on his as she (unsuccessfully) fought her sleep. with a small smile, deacon laced his fingers with hers as she slowly fell into a deep slumber. his eyes fixated on their intertwined hands, wanting to take in the sensation just a little longer. oh man, he was so ready to tease sole about this the next morning.

Hancock:

he felt arms wrap around his torso from behind and was nearly shocked at the sudden affection. “sunshine?” he felt her grip tighter onto him, “is there something wrong?” sole shook her head and only spoke softly, “nothings wrong, i just wanted to thank you for everything you’ve done for me,” she nervously tapped her fingers against his abdomen, “i know i’m not the easiest person to travel with, let alone, help every single day.” hancock smiled softly and let out a chuckle, putting his hand on top of hers. “you’re the best person i’ve ever met, and i’d do anything for you. besides, there’s nobody else i’d rather have as my partner.”

“i hope you know i’d do the same for you.” he took in the silence that followed right after, only staring down at her arms that were enveloping him. he enjoyed the feeling of her body against his, and how her arms fit so perfectly around him. after what seemed like forever, sole broke the stillness of the atmosphere. “can we stay like this for a little? i just-“

“no need to explain yourself sunshine, take as long as you please, i don’t mind.” sole only muttered a small, ‘thank you’ as hancock hummed a little tune of approval. he felt soles breath slow down, and he carefully turned around to face her, taking sole into his arms. hancock let out a grin as he moved a piece of her hair out of her face, he never really had the chance to see sole up close, but was glad he was blessed to have that opportunity. hancock placed her onto the bed nearby and sat by her side, her touch still lingering on his torso.

Maccready:

he felt his heart race as he noticed sole staring right at him, a inquisitive look on her face. “uh, what’s up, boss?” maccready began to feel anxious as sole continued to eye him, “um, earth to sole, are you still with me?” sole tilted her head cutely, making maccreadys cheeks turn red. “sorry, it’s not everyday i get to look at you up close,” her eyes fluttered tiredly, “actually, i never had the chance, we never really have time.” she was right, they never really got to see each other eye to eye and this was the very first, and hopefully not the last, time that he’ll get to experience it. he took in her features, and knew that the commonwealth barely had anyone as attractive as sole. sole was really beautiful, almost too beautiful to be existent in the commonwealth.

his train of thought was cut off by soles soft voice, “you’re really attractive,” maccready felt his ears heat up in embarrassment as sole took in the view, “i wonder how you’re still single. i’m surprised i haven’t caught a girl checking you out yet.”

normally, maccready would make some snarky remark or say something like ‘quit it’, but his undeniable and obvious crush for sole told him otherwise. he felt his confidence skyrocket thanks to sole, it really wasn’t everyday maccready received a compliment, especially from the girl he admired. “thanks boss.. it really means a lot coming from you.” he rubbed his neck sheepishly as sole stretched, getting up on her feet to head to bed. oh how maccready wished he could grow the balls to say the same to her. “of course mac, i wouldn’t be lying to my favorite partner!” he watched as she laid on her bed, giving maccready one final stare before closing her eyes. “goodnight, mac.” “night boss.” he felt his heart jump in happiness as he realized how lucky he was to have someone like sole by his side.

Nick Valentine:

of course, nick being the sweetheart he is, had set the bed for her as she changed her clothes in the other room. the bed was in the living room where he was sitting peacefully at, so it wasn’t hard to hear some turning and tossing against the hard mattress. he took a peek at sole who was staring at the ceiling wearily. “having trouble to sleep, doll?” sole nodded as she saw nick stride over to her in no time. he sat beside her bed and opened a book next to the counter, but before he let a single word out, sole had slowly shut the book.

“nick, i wanna talk to you and get to know you as a person. all this time i’ve been your partner, i haven’t really asked about your personal life.” nick sent her a surprised look, “and why would you want that?”

“well to be fair, i have told you a lot about my life so far,” she spoke shyly as she fiddled with her fingers, “and you’re an interesting guy, nick. you’re just so nice and caring towards others. i really do look up to you. no one in the commonwealth has a reputation like you do.” sole was way too nervous to even stare up at him as she continued talking, “well to me, at least.” if nick had a heart, it’d be melting at the words that shot out of soles mouth. he knew damn well that she meant every word of it and no one could tell him otherwise. nick let out a content grin as he spoke with a hint of joy in his voice, “well i guess great minds think alike, don’t you think? i suppose i can do that for you.” he felt so at home with her and he couldn’t place a finger as to why, but he decided to wave it off. nick rambled on about his life as sole felt a sense of tranquility, her eyes slowly closing at the sound of nicks soothing voice.

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thedracoimagines · 5 years

Text

Changing Minds

Hey! Could you please make an imagine where Draco's friends - Goyle and Crabbe are bullying you everyday and Draco never knew but when he found out he started bullying you too because you were mudblood but then he saw you crying in the bathroom and apologized and he saw your cuts (self harm) and he told you he loves you and you were together. Btw YOU ARE AMAZING!!! I !LOVE! YOUR IMAGINES!

This one was a little tough, and I’m a little rusty, so forgive me. (Also, sorry about some of the missing stuff from this request - I’m not entirely comfortable with writing about some of this stuff, as per my own opinion it’s a tad unhealthy to romanticize it. Maybe one day I’ll be able to address these topics in a healthy way in my writing :) )

---

It was your last class of the day, and the one part of the day where you could actually breathe without worry. Arithmancy, while not the most stimulating of classes, was still the one class that you had without your tormentors.

You can’t remember a time when you weren’t constantly being bothered by Crabbe and Goyle. Their words that poked and prodded you in exactly the right way to make you feel wrong for even existing seemed like they had always been present. “What’s this mudblood doing dirtying our classroom, Crabbe?” Goyle had sneered in your direction this morning.

“Dunno, Goyle. Maybe we should do something about it before it ruins our school,” Crabbe had said back, shoving you in the shoulder.

You had given up protesting – it was potions, after all, and Snape had a tendency to take the Slytherin side – so you just sat there and let them use their hurtful words. You would show them, you thought. You were a witch, and no amount of fake mud in your blood would take that away from you.

Luckily, class had started before that morning’s events could escalate, but that wasn’t counting the rest of your classes. Or lunch. Or the hallways. For what reason were these pureblood idiots pestering you so insistently? Nearly driven to tears several times that day, you held strong and never let yourself believe in their sentiments that you were inferior just because of your parents.

And now you sat in Arthimancy, and you struggled over some problems but you eventually figured them out. You weren’t naturally the best at the subject by a long shot, but the fighting spirit in you was determined to prove to yourself that if you tried hard enough, you could do any Arithmancy question. It had nothing to do with your blood.

And the blonde-haired boy, who sat in the back of the room boisterously speaking to his fellow Slytherins throughout all of class, was none the wiser. For reasons unbeknownst to you, Crabbe and Goyle tended to leave you alone when Draco Malfoy was around, and so Malfoy was, to your knowledge, unaware of your existence let alone your blood status. So, you indulge yourself in a little crush. He may be a right prick, even if not to you, but he was a beautiful prick.

That’s why, as you were hurriedly rushing to finish the last Arithmancy problem after class was dismissed, you were surprised to hear him sneering in front of you. “So, the resident mudblood is having trouble with the real wizarding stuff, then? I’m not surprised that your brain is as inadequate as your blood.”

This was the breaking point. You looked up at the person standing in front of your desk. The one person who would be able to properly escalate your bullying has finally done it, and you can’t take it. Tears prick at your eyes. You liked him. You thought, maybe, he was different. That’s why it hurt so bad, and that’s why you got up and gathered your books. It’s why you shoved past the friendly Hufflepuff girl who was always happy to help you with a particularly challenging problem, and didn’t say sorry for fear that your voice might crack.

You found yourself in the second-floor bathroom, the ghost who you knew haunted the stalls nowhere in sight. Sobs shook your body, and you looked at your hands, the floor, the walls – anything to take your mind off of the thoughts swirling in your head.

Inadequate. Unable. Not good enough. Worthless. Trash. Mudblood.

It’s hard to keep these thoughts away. When talking about the history of magic in classes, learning about the etymology of the word “mudblood”, its meaning, its connotations, was easy. When you’re told in class that witches and wizards of noble blood thought for years that those who were not born to them were dirty and lesser versions of themselves, it’s easy to see as history. But when the people that are around you start calling you a mudblood, you start to associate it with what you learned in history class. And then you start to associate yourself with it, too. The worst part is that the people throwing this word around say it with such hatred, but they don’t even know the full extent of what they’re saying. They don’t know about the history of the word, and they don’t care about it. You’ve seen them – Crabbe, Goyle, even Malfoy all sitting in class barely keeping their eyes open. This is your history, but it can’t just stay history. What a bunch of pricks.

You breathed heavily over a sink, finally starting to calm yourself down. It was then that you realized that you weren’t alone.

“What are you doing crying in a bathroom for?” asked a voice filled with as much confusion as concern.

“What do you want?” you asked defensively, rubbing the tears away while turning to face the intruder. “Are you here to call me a mudblood again, or will you just outright tell me that I’m inept, Malfoy?”

The blonde looked at you with a look that you’ve never seen on him, and one that you weren’t sure how to interpret. “You are crying,” he said, as if he didn’t believe it.

“Thanks for that,” you respond dryly.

“I didn’t mean to make a girl like you cry,” he started.

You feel a sudden surge of anger. “Well what exactly did you expect, you prat? Throwing around a word like mudblood isn’t going to make me fall in love with you.”

“Love…?” He looked confused. “Y/N,” he reproached, “Crabbe and Goyle told me of your… heritage this morning. Unfortunately for them, I don’t think I can approve of their efforts to bully you in particular.”

You weren’t sure where he was going with this, but you were curious to see. Perhaps… Could she be getting a proper apology, from a Malfoy no less? “And why not me, in particular, then?”

“Because it was too late,” he said sheepishly. “I’ve already grown fond of you. And try as I may to make it go away, there is nothing I can do that makes my blood boil against you. You’re not a pureblood, but for some reason I couldn’t tell. I wasn’t naturally disgusted by you-“

“Thanks,” You said sarcastically for the second time that day.

“I just mean that, I can’t hate you. I don’t know why. I do know now, though, that this means that perhaps it was not the most smart of me to call you a mudblood, so I want to apologize.”

You looked up into his eyes then – when did he get so close? – and saw something genuine in them. How had you made so much of an impact on someone that you had only seen for one class period, and for only brief, accidental caught stares? Thinking back, you seem to remember that sometimes when you would look back to catch a glimpse of his smile, it seemed like he had already been looking at you first when your eyes would accidentally meet. Maybe it wasn’t just wishful thinking. And from his words… maybe he was different, after all.

“Please,” he said, taking you out of your train of thought. “Forgive me. I… I need you to forgive me before I say anything else.”

Curious by his faltering voice, and feeling suddenly like giving second chances to pretty boys, you met his gaze once again. “Okay,” your voice feels small and weak from crying. “I can forgive you, I think.”

Malfoy nodded. “What I was going to say was that I want to know…” his voice trailed off as you watched his eyes search your face. He swallowed. “I want to know why I’m okay with you. And I want to know how much I’m okay with. And…”

He paused, took a deep breath, eyes moving back to look into yours. “I want to know if maybe I’m okay with you, I can be okay with other who are… like you.” The uncertainty in his voice on the last two words – he wanted to say mudblood, you were certain – were outshone by his stunning admission of open-mindedness. From the stories you’ve heard, this seemed quite out of character.

“I…” you weren’t sure what to say. Here was the person who you had first had a crush on, then hated, and now… Now you weren’t sure how you felt, but he laid all of his feelings out on the line for you. You know how he feels. You have the power to strengthen his heart and open his mind to a world that, to everyone else, it seemed like he intensely hated. Maybe there was just a curious boy under the mask of this hateful man. Maybe he just needed some love to change his heart, and some friendly debate to change his mind.

Your mind was set, and you tried to hold back a smile as you crafted the perfect response – one that would lighten the mood and hopefully make the person standing in front of you feel less awkward for admitting something that was clearly difficult for him to do. “I did always have a little crush on you,” you finally admitted cheekily. “And, if I can forgive you, then maybe there’s a chance you’re telling the truth, and maybe you can love a mudblood like me.”

“I am telling the truth,” he said earnestly. Then, you felt his fingers against yours, and suddenly he was holding your hand, at first hesitantly and then with more confidence. “And maybe one day I can love you.”

You suddenly laughed. It all felt like a cheesy story about a boy and a girl who hate each other suddenly seeing each other in a new light. Except, they never really hated each other. Maybe they just misunderstood. Maybe they just liked to listen to the whispers around them a little too much. Either way, it wasn’t a story. It was you, and it was him. And you decided that the perfect ending – rather, the perfect beginning – would be to steal a quick kiss off of the boy who was maybe invading your personal space a little too soon. It was nothing serious, just a peck.

He didn’t seem to mind though, because after the initial shock, you thought you saw a hint of the smile that you liked to steal glances at in Arthimancy (Qnly this time, you got to see it up close. Yes, it was even more beautiful from three inches away). “Now, what do you think we should to do Crabbe and Goyle to teach them a little lesson about bullying my girl?”

#draco imagine #harry potter imagine #Harry Potter #draco x reader #draco malfoy #draco malfoy imagine #masterlist #request #rq

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lilaclily00 · 5 years

Text

Apologies (3)

Danny Fenton secretly sort-of joins the family business.

(DannyMay 2019 Day 23: Scream [It’s still the 23rd somewhere in the world, right?]

DannyMay 2019 Week 4: Dreams)

Hopefully, this is a decent concluding chapter! And decently uses the prompts! They helped so much to get this written, but I struggled a lot, so I am mostly happy for it to be finished.

Part 1 and Part 2

AO3 link

@goinggoblin and @pigte

Val was missing.

That was the consensus when all the other A-listers had met up at lunch and realized that none of them had seen her in morning periods and no one's texts had been answered.

Dash wasn't an idiot. He would've noticed if anyone on the A-list wasn't at school, then would’ve proceeded to not worry about it. He wouldn't have even bothered with checking up on any of them by text. With how often some of them (read: Paulina) skipped anyways, there was no need to worry or feel responsible for them, besides perhaps cover their backs if a teacher was suspicious.

But this was Val.

Val, who spent the whole day on her phone.

Val, who always prided herself on having everything, including good grades. She just about never missed school, where she had the opportunity to achieve and show off her newest clothes.

Val, who took MMA after school for years.

Val, who recently became kind of literally dead, a secret that could lead to a lot of bad stuff if it came out--which admittedly seemed very likely to happen with how impossible she'd found it to control her new powers.

He couldn't say for sure what, but something had to have happened to her.

"Should someone go check on her?" Paulina voiced, biting her lip, picking at the questionable school lasagna on her tray.

Dash deliberated for a couple seconds. "I can. I rode my bike to school," he offered, shoveling lasagna into his mouth. After swallowing, he added, "And I don't have any absences for History yet."

"You sure, man?" Kwan frowned. "Your parents won't be happy about you missing a class if it wasn't because of football."

Dash shrugged in lieu of a vocal response, seeing as there was lasagna in his mouth again. He could live with his parents throwing a tantrum later. He tried to keep them happy most of the time, but they hardly ever were. Sometimes he wondered why he bothered.

After a few more mixed messages of encouragement and caution from his friends, Dash waved them off and pushed the rest of his tray to Kwan. He meandered out of the cafeteria and hid out of sight from staff wandering the halls, then snuck to the bike racks and successfully made it off school property.

It didn't take long to reach Val’s place. He wasn’t terribly fazed when he knocked harshly on the front door and no one answered. He went around back to right under her curtained bedroom window and searched for something to throw at it, ultimately settling on a small rock on the ground. It only took a few seconds for him to get a reaction, a frustrated growl that was so Valerie, especially because he could hear it from all the way down there.

“So you are alive!” he shouted up with a grin, then winced internally. Not the right word to use. “Let me in!”

“I can’t!” she shouted back, some sort of strange echo in her voice.

Dash looked around them; no one in sight. “Why not?”

“I... I physically can’t,” she enunciated behind the curtain, something that sounded like pain in there behind the echo. If his suspicions were correct, it was more likely painfully embarrassed--she must’ve found herself unable to touch anything.

“Then come outside!” he tried, ignoring the pang of guilt that hit him at that realization.

"...Can’t do that either."

Dash threw the rock again. This time, a white-haired girl poked her head out the window--wait, through the window--to properly glare at him with glowing red eyes. He startled at her appearance; he'd only seen it once before, in the accident. She blinked and eeped, flinging herself back out of sight into the room.

"Give me a minute," she called again, her voice nervous but resigned. "Go to the back door."

Dash scrunched his eyebrows, but nodded and walked to the back end of the house. He stood there, tapping his foot, mind ruminating on Val's altered appearance at the window. He felt a strange sensation on his arm, like when things were so cold they felt hot. He yelped, then yelped louder as the sensation yanked at him and pulled him through the unopened door. It immediately released him once he had stumbled inside, and he rubbed at his arm for the tingling to go away.

"Sorry, that's the best I could do," Val's voice said. He flinched, hearing it right next to him. It still sounded like her, but not quite, and not just because of the echoing quality. He couldn't help but feel like it sounded like a supernatural imitation of her.

"At least it worked," Dash muttered, dropping his arm even though it had not ceased the apparent after-effects of... whatever that was. He glanced over to his friend, then corrected his gaze when her face was higher up than usual. She floated at his own height, her mouth twisted apprehensively.

"Yeah. You're the first person I've seen or talked to since I got... stuck."

Dash had a hard time looking at her in the eyes, the unnatural glowing eyes, and turned his sights instead to watching her hair float around her. It seemed he was going to need to get used to this. "When'd you get stuck?"

"In the middle of the night. I couldn't sleep, so I figured I might as well practice." Valerie hugged herself, curling up in the air. "I've been trying to go back to normal all morning. I was hoping I'd at least manage to do it before lunch ended, but now I don't know if I ever will!" Dash's eyes were drawn back to hers when her haunting gaze turned harried and desperate. "Am I just gonna be a ghost now?"

"No," he told her, face hardening with determination. It was his fault she was in this mess in the first place, and he refused to believe the mess could be even worse than they thought. They did not kill her. He did not kill her. "There's gotta be something you haven't tried yet."

"Yeah, like what? You know even less of what's going on than I do!"

"Two heads are still better than one." Dash glanced to the door. "I think first, you need to chill a little. I think it's easier to calm down outside, so--"

"Not happening!" Valerie stepped--no, floated away. Dash suddenly realized her legs were gone, replaced by a tail sort of thing. It was so strange he couldn't look away. "I do not want anyone seeing me. Why else would I have stayed in my house all day?!"

"No one's going to see you in your backyard," he said slowly, as if she didn't already know that. Everyone was at work or school. "And can't you, like, turn invisible and stuff now? You said that a couple days ago."

"I'm trying to stop turning invisible, Dash," she muttered, curling her tail around herself agitatedly. "Let's just say things didn't go well last time someone saw me while looking like this. I don't want to take the chance."

He frowned, but didn't push it; with how much her powers acted up, it wasn't too surprising that she ended up in ghost... mode(?) by accident or something. Hopefully, it was only one person. "Alright, fine. You still need to stop panicking. What will make you relax?"

"I dunno. Most of my efforts to relax have failed because they require being able to touch stuff." Val glared at her tail, flicking it back away from her. "I hate what this feels like. It's like... everything's too numb and too much at the same time. After hours like this I'm going insane. Please tell me I'm not just a ghost now."

"You're repeating yourself," Dash said, only to distract himself from the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach at her description. He didn't know whether he wanted to understand it better or not--understand better just what his own stupidity was putting his friend through. "What about... music? That doesn't need touch." Not if he took charge of whatever was playing it, at least.

Val gave a single, slow nod, then hesitantly added another one. "It's worth a try."

He found some songs on his mp3 player that he knew Val liked, and sat at the kitchen table, lazily bopping his head, as Val slowly took to lounging in the air. She swayed to the beat, but it didn’t seem like she was really relaxing.

"C'mon, I thought you were always the life of the party," Val's ghostly voice teased halfway through the third song.

He raised his eyebrow; that comment was better reserved for a situation that wasn't this. But maybe she needed some sense of normalcy for a second.

"And I thought you were the queen of karaoke," he tried, folding his arms challengingly.

She did not react to that quite like he had hoped, glancing away and looking like she didn't know what to do with her hands. He realized belatedly that she probably didn't like the distortion in her voice at the moment any more than he did.

He drummed his fingers on the table for a few seconds, then turned back to the player. Perhaps what she needed was a hype song. He put on Dumpty Humpty's classic hit "I Punch You in My Dreams (A Lot)", one he knew by heart because the majority of it was just the title repeated a bunch of times.

"I punch you in my dreams!" he shouted more than sang, and Val cringed, putting her hands up to her ears, then stopping to glare at her palms.

"Ugh, that doesn't even work," he heard her groan as he stood up, a giant grin on his face.

"I punch you in my dreams!" He pointed at her to finish the line, but she was instead staring at him like he grew a second head.

"This song stopped being cool in middle school!" she shouted over the insane instrumental.

"Nothing stops being cool until I say it is," he declared, watching as she reoriented herself to a standing position, rolling her red eyes.

Something about that so-very-human action eased a bit of his worry. He couldn't put what the worry was into words, but... it was there. His friend really was there in front of him, no matter how different she seemed.

The next line came up, and he "sang" along gladly. "I punch, I kick, I scream in your face! I hit you over the head with a bass!"

Dash air-guitared as the bassist audibly destroyed his instrument. Luckily, the bass line always picked back up soon on a spare.

"If you think this is supposed to relax me, it isn't working." Nonetheless, the corners of her mouth twitched up.

“I punch you in my dreams!” he repeated loudly, pointing at her again. She shook her head at him, fighting a smile. “If you don't sing, I'm not inviting you to my next party.”

“I don't want to go to your next party anyways!” Nonetheless, she finally started laughing.

“I punch you in my dreams!”

She tacked on grudgingly, “A lot.”

Dash grinned; maybe this was a good plan after all. “Louder! I punch you in my dreams!”

“A lot!”

Together they finished the chorus, “I punch you in my dreams a lot!”

She joined him in rocking to the next instrumental, white ethereal curls flying as she head-banged, her giggles infectious.

Dash held her gaze, making sure she was singing aloud, as they shouted in unison, "I punch, I kick, I scream in your face! I punch, I kick, I scream, I scream, I SCREAM!!!"

They both screamed, but Val's was significantly louder, and Dash ended up stopping to cover his ears and watch her, horror in his eyes. Val, however, didn't notice and kept screaming and screaming, eyes screwed shut. When the scream section of the song was over, a bright light formed around her waist; Dash now covered up his eyes to not go blind. He heard Val topple onto the ground and hurried to help her up--her human body up, dressed warmly from the previous night.

"We... we did it!" Val breathed, patting herself down once standing, a relieved grin stretched across her whole face. "That worked!"

Dash turned off the music and wore a smile, but more of a mask, as she continued to ramble, pacing the kitchen. She pondered aloud the possible reasons why it worked--though she admitted screaming was therapeutic, she liked connecting it to the practice of shouting in her MMA class to move more energy from oneself out.

Val turned back to him, triumph in her eyes. "Would you mind waiting a few more minutes so I can get ready for school?"

"Well, duh," was his reply, and he sat back down at the table as she hurried out of the kitchen to her room. With her gone, he let out a sigh big enough to sag his whole body. He propped his elbows onto the table and buried his face in his hands. He hadn't expected to be so affected by that.

Dash remembered Val's scream.

It was really only a few days ago when he heard her screaming in agony, undergoing torture as the portal did something to her, put her through the kind of pain he couldn't even imagine. The kind of pain he was this close to going through himself.

This scream wasn't the same, he knew that, but... apparently, it was close enough.

He was glad to help somehow, but hated that it ended up being that way, a way that unexpectedly made his heart ache and pound. But he had no right to complain, not really. He couldn't complain about what he was going through, because he wasn't going through anything. He wasn't the one living through this, he was just the one that almost did, and had to watch someone else do it instead.

He rubbed his eyes with his hands, and quietly groaned out, "I'm sorry."

"For what?" He jumped and turned to the doorway--Val had just come in, more silent than she'd ever been before, in a sweater and jeans.

He opened his mouth, then closed, then tried again. He didn't really know how to explain it. His face flaming, he helplessly gestured. "Everything?"

She breathed out, hands at her hips, and watched him for a second. "Apology accepted, but no more, okay?"

He stared at her dumbly, then stood and moved out of the kitchen, feeling the weight of glowing red eyes that could’ve been his on his back. "Okay."

Dash huffed as he finally got to hang up the phone and shove it into his pocket. “Yep, just got grounded.”

“I don’t get them sometimes.” Kwan shook his head as they walked out of school--after classes this time. “Still better than what Val’s dad might’ve done if she was still stuck like that when he came home. How did she get stuck anyway?”

“I dunno. I’m just hoping that was a one-time thing.” Dash shrugged, holding onto his bike’s handlebars. “Guess I’ll see you later.”

He hopped onto the bike as Kwan split away. He cruised down the street, suddenly aware of what being human felt like. The October chill on his bare skin and the warmth of his letterman jacket. The air beating on his face and through his hair as he glided down a hill. The droning, grating noise of the bike’s wheels and chain over the wind whistling through trees and the occasional car passing by. A surprising amount of sun coming through the cloud cover to blind him. How much of that would Val have experienced?

He narrowed his eyes and made his turn around the corner block sharper than necessary. He’d been distracted by these thoughts all day and they didn’t help at all. He needed to stop, and at least try to not feel sorry. He was rarely sorry for anything in the first place. It was easy to act in the few other insistences, but actually not being sorry when he already was was impossible!

He needed something to take his mind off of all... that. School didn’t work, but he didn’t expect it to anyways. Maybe food? Chowing down on leftovers sounded good right now. Or--

He veered to a stop to glance back behind him, up in the sky. Did he--? Yes, that really did look like a person. A person, hovering in the air! Decked out in a futuristic blue suit and helmet! On a surfboard-looking thing shooting fire out the back! He started to wonder whether he really was looking at a time-traveler, because there was no way hoverboards were already a thing.

He nearly fell as he scrambled to turn his bike to get a better view. They barely swerved to go over one of the taller trees, and made a slightly unsteady recovery. Apparently, they were inexperienced with this. It was still so cool, though!

“Hey!” he shouted up, pedaling after them. The startled person lost balance for a second, but successfully froze their position in the sky to glance down to him. He continued, “Can I try out your hoverboard?”

After a few seconds, a fake-deep voice replied, “No,” and returned to flying away.

Dash couldn’t help but pout as he watched the figure disappear behind some houses--surely intentional so they (he?) couldn’t be followed so easily. He thought of taking on the challenge, but his stomach beckoned him to go home instead.

Well, perhaps he could catch a flight with Val, if she ever left the house, he considered as he turned back around for the last stretch home. Hey, if that dude showed up again, Val could hang out with him in midair! Even she would have to admit that’d be cool!

...And there he was, feeling guilty again out of nowhere.

What else could distract him? Using Fenton as a punching bag always worked pretty well, but Val asked him not to for a while. Wanted to try to start on good relations with the loser, she said. He didn’t think it was worth it, but agreeing to a favor like that was the least he could do so she wouldn’t be as miserable.

Not to say that he wasn’t going to watch Fenton closely. The favor ran the risk of him getting out of line in some way, and Dash wasn’t going to accept that. If Fenton pulled anything on Val...

He was going to be more sorry than Dash could ever be.

#Danny Phantom #DP #DP AU #D/V roleswap!AU #roleswap au #Phoenix AU #Discord is wild #Lily? Lily.#Lily? Lily. Fic.#fun fact: almost had Dash pull out a pet rock instead of picking a rock off the ground #but I figured canon Dash would've punched me enough times by now #does this sound like him at all? who knows #am I glad to be able to sleep now? definitely

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creative-type · 6 years

Text

Monster of the Salt Rock Hills VII

First

AO3

AN: So this is shorter than I would have liked it, but I have had a dearth of writing time lately, and the choice was shorter (hopefully) more frequent chapters versus longer, more sporadic updates

Summary: The day after stopping a drath summoning gone horribly wrong, Orrig and his team are summoned to the Salt Rock Hills to find and eliminate a monster that has been ravaging the countryside. But things quickly go awry and it soon becomes apparent that nothing about this case is as it seems. Thistle must learn to work together with her new coworkers and overcome her own insecurities to find the truth of the monster of the Salt Rock Hills. Set immediately after Chapter 6: The Knowing Ones

Chapter Seven: In Which Some Questions are Answered (and Others Aren’t)

It wasn’t long after Thistle ended the spell with Orrig that she began to have second thoughts. She was absolutely convinced that what Rhys had done was wrong and certain that Isla was innocent, but she wasn’t sure there was anything Orrig could do about it, or even if he would want to. This wasn’t their job, and they were scheduled to leave once it got light enough to travel. Rhys even had the local authority backing his actions.

It was truly none of their business, but Thistle couldn’t forget the way Isla looked at her as she was being drug away with all the care afforded a sack of potatoes—like she were some kind of monster, and not a person. Just remembering it made Thistle furious, but it was an impotent anger. For all her magic, she was powerless. Powerless, and weak, and useless…

Thistle waited for Orrig from the porch of Dr. Malady’s house. The sky was beginning to stir with soft, pre-dawn light, bathing the landscape with pockets of shadow and bleaching the rest of its natural color. Thistle saw best in true darkness or complete light, and this in-between made her eyes smart. Or perhaps it was the lack of sleep. She rubbed her eyes as a hulking figure crested of the hill leading to the house, trailed by two smaller figures.

None of them were properly dressed. Orrig wasn’t wearing a shirt at all, while Brent’s was on inside out. Lyra almost looked presentable, but her hair was struggling more than normal to escape its tie. They had come as quickly as they could, leaving everything except for their weapons behind.

“Hey Thistle are you—“ Lyra yawned enormously. “—Are you okay?”

Their thoughtfulness made Thistle feel even more worthless. “There’s been some sort of mistake. Rhys arrested Isla Clark. He says she’s been poaching winged horses.”

“The mage from the dead mercenary team?” Brent asked.

“He just took her away without listening to what she had to say. I saw her leg, and there’s no way she could have gone to the Hills and back all those times,” Thistle said frantically. “I-I know I should have waited until it was properly morning, but Rhys was hurting her. She wasn’t even wearing shoes, and when I tried to stop him he said he’d arrest me too.”

Lyra’s expression hardened. “He what?”

“I didn’t know what I was supposed to do,” Thistle said. “He had Mum and Rizaek with him, and a warrant for Isla’s arrest. He can’t do this, can he? The guild doesn’t have the authority to put people into prison?”

She looked up helplessly at Orrig for answers. He’d not said a word except to say he would come to Dr. Malady’s house. Her confused rambling made his mouth drew into a tighter line. “You did goot to call. Did elf say vhy he arrest mage?”

“No, he just said that she’d confess once she saw the evidence he had.”

“Hmn.”

“You walked with Isla out to the Hills,” Thistle said. “You don’t think she could go out to the springs for weeks to kill winged horses, do you?”

Orrig sighed heavily. “Nyet. Vas…painful vatching.”

“This doesn’t make any &$#% sense,” Brent said. “Rhys could get in a lot of trouble for arresting the wrong person. *#&@, he shouldn’t be the one arresting her!”

“Well, I’d say it’s because she’s a mage,” Lyra said. “Do you think a bunch of backwater hicks who’ve never seen any magic in their lives would want to try to apprehend a mage without any firepower of their own? Rhys has got those &#*@#&! bracers plus a pet spellslinger of his own. If he’s smart he’ll charge a little bit extra for doing something outside of his initial contract, but I’m not so sure he’s got two good brain cells to rub together.”

“But why go through all that effort? You saw the horses out here. They can’t be worth that much,” Brent protested.

“Five gold pieces a feather,” Thistle said quietly. “Do you remember? The wings were missing when we got there.”

Lyra let out a surprised hiss, and Brent winced. Together the three of them looked up to Orrig for his verdict. Though his face was unreadable as ever Thistle found herself ready to trust whatever he decided. The feeling surprised her, but she quickly buried it.

Slowly Orrig nodded. “I vill talk to elf. Ve wait here until full light. I agree dat mage probably not one killing horses, but maybe elf have proof. Need more information. Until den, ve rest.”

“You expect us to just wait?” Lyra said.

“I expect to be smart,” Orrig said, his tone brooking no room for argument. “Elf has job, ve intruding. Make mistake and mayor vill throw us out on zhopa. As is right.”

Orrig leaned his axe against the outside of the house before ducking inside, stopping only to give Thistle a reassuring pat on the shoulder. Grumbling, Lyra followed, while Brent fumbled to unbuckle the sword from his hip. He set it next to the axe before turning to Thistle, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Are you okay? You, um, look kind of stressed out.”

Thistle’s shoulders slumped. Was it that obvious? “I guess I didn’t get much sleep last night.”

“Did you really look at that mage-chick’s leg?”

“Yeah. It wasn’t pretty.” Thistle shook her head. “I don’t understand, that bite is proof enough that there’s something in the Hills. Does Rhys think she killed her teammates too?”

“Dunno, but Orrig’s going to find out.” Brent held the door open for her. “If you didn’t sleep good that means you need rest most of all. I think we’re all going to need a clear head to figure this one out.”

Thistle went to the parlor, now empty and forlorn. The three beeswax candles burned brightly, dripping wax onto the wrought iron stand. There was no need for them with dawn quickly coming, and with a snap of her fingers Thistle doused the flames.

A small black mass stirred from the chair that had until recently been occupied by Isla Clark, and Salem blinked his golden eyes as the ripple of magic passed overhead. He looked at Thistle and meowed, as if in question.

It was only in stories where witches befriended black cats, but it seemed like this one had taken quite a liking to Isla. Thistle wandered over and patted his head. “I don’t know, but I promise that I’m going to find out.”

It took a few minutes to figure out where everyone was supposed to go. Despite suggesting rest, Orrig insisted that he was fully awake and settled at the table, deep in thought. Lyra went to Thistle’s room to freshen up while Brent dozed in the parlor. Thistle knew she ought to do the same, but she was full of restless energy and found herself drawn to the back garden.

The sun was just beginning to crest over the horizon as Thistle slumped into the chair Dr. Malady had used the day before to snap beans. The bucket had not been touched, and Thistle used her magic to set it over near the heaping pile of garlic.

For a moment she allowed herself to just sit, taking deep breaths of the crisp country air. Her eyes fluttered closed, so heavy with sleep that Thistle wasn’t sure she’d be able to pry them open again. The image of dead horses and malicious mercenaries were tattooed to the back of her eyelids.

Orrig would sort it, and Thistle trusted his judgement. There would be plenty of time to question the wisdom of that decision later, but seeing how Rhys treated employees and employers alike had made her realize how lucky she’d been to end up with this group of mercenaries, flawed and dysfunctional as they were.

It was strangely comforting to know that she wouldn’t have to solve everything by herself. Thistle drifted into an uneasy slumber that was only broken with the return of Dr. Malady.

“Well hello there. I wasn’t expecting you all quite this early.”

Thistle jumped out of her seat as Orrig responded, his voice too low for her to pick out, and rushed back into the house. Dr. Malady stood in the entranceway of the house, a bemused smile on her tired face. The white coat that marked her profession was creased, with a dark stain on the cuff of her left sleeve. She shrugged it off after setting down her heavy black bag. “Oh, things went quite well. Healthy mother and baby, and I’ve time for a nap before setting off on rounds. I terribly sorry, I’d planned to have breakfast ready before you left.”

The doctor’s smile faltered when she saw Thistle. “Is everything all right? You look exhausted.”

Thistle glanced at Orrig, who gave a subtle nod, and swallowed hard. Then, praying that Dr. Malady would forgive her for failing to protect Isla, she told her everything that had happened.

Dr. Malady’s anger was a quiet thing, and somehow that made it worse. She listened to Thistle’s disjointed tale without uttering a single word, except to occasionally ask for clarification on an unclear point. A steely glint entered her eyes, and her lips pursed into an increasingly thin line. When Thistle was finished she strode over to her small kitchen and put on a kettle of water to boil.

“I’m beginning to think that elf doesn’t know his head from his @$$,” Dr. Malady said darkly. “He wouldn’t even been in this godsforsaken town if it weren’t for Isla, and he’s going to accuse her of killing the winged horses?”

“What do you mean?” Thistle said.

Dr. Malady leaned against the counter, her back to Orrig and Thistle. Her hands clenched into fists, each tendon stretching taunt against her skin. “You have to understand, we thought that the monster was dead. The search team that found Isla, Marco, and Lucian never did find a body, but there was the matter of the missing sword. Everyone assumed…” She sighed, and began pulling mugs from a cupboard. “Does everyone like tea?”

Thistle felt Brent come up behind her, and a moment later Lyra emerged from the bedroom. On some unspoken cue they joined Orrig at the table.

“It vould be much help iv you tell us vat you know,” Orrig prompted.

“And what are you planning to do with the knowledge?” Dr. Malady asked. “What happened in the Hills that night has been subject to enough rumor to ruin Isla’s life without me spreading tales I only half understand.”

“Look, we’re just trying to help,” Lyra said, not unkindly. “We can’t prove Rhys wrong without evidence.”

Some of the defensiveness left Dr. Malady, but she remained guarded as she said, “Isla doesn’t remember everything that happened during the attack. I’ll I can tell you is guesswork and hearsay.”

“That’s better than nothing,” Brent said.

Dr. Malady considered this as she polished her glasses. “Do you really think you can help Isla?”

“We can try.”

Thistle was surprised that the words came from her. She’d been content to let the others speak for her. There was less chance she’d mess something up that way. Dr. Malady returned her glasses to their rightful position and studied Thistle as if she were one of her patients and she was contemplating the best course of treatment for a deadly disease.

Finally she came to a decision. With deft motions Dr. Malady filled five mugs with steaming hot water and set them before the adventurers. “Before the town voted on whether to hire a mercenary team, Mayor Stone had me conduct a post-mortem on one of the horses Carson found. I’d never seen anything like it before in my life.”

She swirled the contents of her mug and took a bracing sip. “At first I thought it’d been ripped apart by scavengers. Then I seen its heart. It…I don’t even know how to describe it. Exploded, I suppose, blown apart from the inside out until only shreds was left that held it together.” Dr. Malady let out a humorless laugh. “For a time I didn’t even recognize it was a heart.

“That convinced most of the town that the monster was real, though a few argued otherwise. It almost came to blows, but the vote settled it. Everyone contributed as their means allowed, and Jacob Swinehart was commissioned to hire a team out of Crossroads.”

“Vhy Jacob Swinehart?” Orrig asked.

Dr. Malady shrugged. “His business takes him to town quite often. Suppliers don’t come this far north, so he has to go south. If anyone would know where to go to hire out a team, it’d be Jacob.”

“Even though he doesn’t believe in the monster?” Lyra said.

“He wasn’t too happy about having to give up his hard-earned coin,” Dr. Malady said, managing an approximation of a smile. “In any case, Marco Russo specialized in tracking and trapping monsters. He brought Isla and an elf by the name of Lucian with him, but weeks passed and even he couldn’t figure out what was doin’ all the killing. He had me exhume the one I’d examined for clues, but no such luck.”

“So he decided to wait and see if they could catch the monster in action,” Thistle said.

“Just so,” Dr. Malady confirmed. “When they didn’t return the next morning a search team was formed. They found Marco with his throat cut out, while Lucian had been thrown against a boulder with enough force to crack open his skull. Isla was unconscious in a pool of her own blood. They brought her to me, but whatever magic she’d done had already closed the wound.”

“I heard she had claws,” Brent said.

“People need to learn to keep things to himself,” Dr. Malady said with a beleaguered sigh. “But it’s true. Her finger- and toenails were like claws, and her hair had grown and greyed. People thought the monster had possessed her—some still think the monster possessed her. I didn’t know what had happened, and she wouldn’t wake up. I had to call every favor ever owed to me t’ get a proper healer to look at her, for all the good it did. I was told the hair and nails was a side effect of the spell that Isla did on her leg, and that she’d either wake up or she wouldn’t. There was nothing that could be done.”

Dr. Malady sighed again, the lines in her face deepening. “The search team scoured high an’ low for the monster but didn’t find a thing, and later someone realized that Lucian’s sword had gone missing, too. A couple days later Isla came to…I had to tell her what happened. She blamed herself for everything, said it was her fault the monster attacked them.”

There was uncomfortable silence, and an involuntary shiver went up Thistle’s spine. She couldn’t imagine how horrible it would wake up and realize your coworkers were dead, or what it would be like to have to break that news.

“Did she give reason?” Orrig finally asked.

“No. Isla didn’t say anything at all except to say the last thing she remembered was Lucian attacking the monster, his sword drawn. So the question was, if he attacked the thing, where’d his sword go?” Dr. Malady shook her head.

“Enough time passed that everyone figured that Lucian managed to land a death blow before succumbing to his wounds and the monster went off somewhere to die. No one except Carson was willing to go far into the Hills, and his father wouldn’t let him past the abandoned mines. The matter was settled, and as the one surviving member of the team Isla got the bounty.”

Something told Thistle that this was important, and she remembered Orrig’s look when Mayor Stone said that his people had paid twice for the same job. Luckily Lyra asked the question she was thinking. “Wait, Isla got the entire payout?”

“Who else would it go to?” Dr. Malady asked. “Marco Russo was licensed—the guild has got benefits for surviving family in the case of something like this, and according to the records we were given Lucian had no next of kin. We didn’t even have a place to send the body. I think he’s the only elf in our cemetery.”

“But the monster wasn’t dead,” Brent said.

“No, but the books were closed on it as if it were,” Dr. Malady said. “We had to submit a completely new request once this new round of killing started, but since it was a confirmed man-killer it was considered a more dangerous job.”

“More expensive,” Orrig said

“Exactly,” Dr. Malady said. “We could barely afford Marco. There was no way we’d be able to afford a more expensive team, except Isla give over every penny she had to make up the difference. I tried to talk her out of it. What she had would have gone a long way for a prosthetic leg, but she wouldn’t hear of it. I’m telling you, there’s no one who wants to the monster killed more than Isla Clark.”

Dr. Malady looked nearly sick with worry while the rest processed what she said. Orrig drank his tea in one gulp before rising to his feet. “Thank you. Is very helpful. I vill tell elf vat you tell me.”

“And if he doesn’t listen I’ll punch him in the face,” Lyra added.

“No,” Orrig said. “I vill go by self.”

“But Orrig…”

“No but. Go find Isla, ask vat happen. Maybe she know more than she think.”

“How’s that gonna help when she doesn’t remember anything?” Brent said.

“She remember elf attack monster. Go see vat else. I vill take care of Rhys.”

Orrig’s voice took on a particular tone when he was giving orders, an unmovable authority that had come to a decision and would not be moved off course. It was a subtle change, but one that Thistle was beginning to recognize. She hurried to her feet, her tea untouched. “Um, I need to get something. Just give me a minute.”

Without waiting for an answer Thistle hurried down the hallway and entered Isla’s bedroom. Silently apologizing for the invasion of privacy, she scanned the room until she found what she was looking for. In less than a minute she was back in the parlor where Orrig, Brent, and Lyra were readying to leave.

“What was that all about?” Lyra asked.

Thistle almost died with embarrassment under their quizzical stares. “Rhys didn’t give her a chance to put on her shoes,” she mumbled, holding the sturdy boots to her chest. The left was bulkier than the right, some sort of leather brace giving extra support for her bad ankle. The healing Thistle had done had helped, but Isla would still need to take precautions to avoid injuring it any further.

Lyra shrugged, while Orrig gave an approving grunt and Brent nodded. Thistle let out a small sigh of relief at their non-reaction, only to realize that Dr. Malady was still staring at her, utterly dumbfounded.

It took her a moment before Dr. Malady could speak again, and when she did her eyes were shiny with unshed tears. “I’ll leave things in your capable hands. I’m glad that Isla has someone like you on her side.”

#The Monster of the Salt Rock Hills #daughter of the lilies #daughter of the lilies fanfiction #Thistle #Orrig #Brent #Lyra #creative-type writes

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ohthathurt · 6 years

Note

Hey babe , for the prompt thing how about " Seduce Liam with love notes so Zayn stop pining" ?

Hope I did this justice babe xx

We follow a chilly winter’s morning, the atmosphere wasstill buzzing with the week-past New Year’s Eve celebrations as hopefulresolution-keepers bounded back and forth with promises of activity.

The scene is modern-time New York, the streets covered inwhite, slippery ice; cars grounded and parked under heaps of settled snow,people trudging through inches of ice in sturdy boots and water-proof pants. Alonesome coffee shop stands tucked into the corner of a brownstone, its whiteand red shop sign glistening with ice under the faint sunlight.

The four members of the shop’s founding crew were dashingabout busily, their coffee concoctions and warm pastries a hit with theholiday-exhausted crowd. Customers were ducking into the warmth of the shop,just to escape the bite of the snow-chilled air, only to be comforted by theintoxicating scent of brewing coffee and fresh baked goods.

The marble counter span an entire side of the shop; it was aglass-covered counter at the end where all their pastries, breads, pies, cakes,cheesecakes, croissants and buttery, sticky varieties of baklava.

The busy lines were branching out from the middle of thecounter, where a loud, mouthy man with piercing blue eyes and a Yorkshireaccent, stood accepting money and shouting out orders.

Behind him, a blond man with an infectious grin was boundingback and forth from the espresso machine and the syrup station, deftlyswitching coffee cups around with nimble, seasoned fingers.

Another man came out from behind the hidden door in thecorner of the shop, where the baked goods were kept, with a proud, dimpledsmile and a tray full of hot biscuits.

And right at the back of the shop, far away from the crowdsand his manically busy friends, sat a quiet but observant man, who looked likehe wanted to be elsewhere, like he wanted to escape into his mind.

His name was Zayn, a boy who had once come to New York as avery young 19 year-old with his three other friends, looking to write out hisdreams. This was a boy who had failed miserably at achieving his dreams, enoughto fall on hard times. The solution was soon decided simple: get a loan andopen a coffee shop, supplying the one thing New Yorkers could survive anapocalypse with.

It had worked, tremendously so, and while Louis, Harry andNiall had been ecstatic at the success of their conjoined business, Zayn hadstill felt an ache of regret.

Currently, he sat doodling idly on a napkin, which belongedto their shop, the name ‘Just Brew It’ etched in a cursive brown font overwhite. Niall had been the one to come up with the name, claiming Shia LaBeoufas inspiration.

Back at the end of the line was stood a frazzled and verylate Liam Payne. Usually, he couldn’t give a rat’s arse about being early, hisPA gracious enough to handle any problems before he lazily popped in at 11am.But today was different. He was supposed to be at a meeting with an importantclient, the sort who’d happily invest millions of dollars into Liam’s companyif he was buttered just the right way.

But he needed to be charming, and in order to be charming,he needed coffee. Desperately.

And that is why he was stood on a Tuesday morning, detestingthe loud crowds around him who were enjoying the cold in a coffee shop thatlooked ordinary enough. But, it was the closest to his office right now andLiam didn’t want to risk a 10 minute drive to his favourite coffee place withthe risk of getting stuck in traffic.

A child was crying loudly next to him, sat on a chair besidea stressed-looking mum and Liam was sure he going to join the crying child soonif he didn’t get his caffeine fix.

He loosened his tie, before changing his mind and doing itup again, he can’t look even a tiny bit off, he was dressed to impress. He scannedthe large interior of the shop, eyes roving casually over the baristas and atall man who was holding a tray of what looked like biscuits.

Liam froze to a stop, as his eyes locked onto the silhouetteof a young man. He couldn’t see much of the man; his head full of shock blackhair was ducked down, arms littered in numerous tattoos, shown off by ashort-sleeved work tee. A light scruff on his jaw was all Liam could make ofhis face until –

His breath was taken away, quite literally, when the man,the boy, looked up to face hiscoworker who came over to him. And when the boy smiled, a sweet and serenething, beautifully glinting eyes crinkling up and a perfectly angled nose thatheld a hint of scrunch, Liam’s jaw weakened and he feared he was about to startdrooling.

The boy’s face was enough to stir something up inside ofLiam, something that had been silenced a long time ago, an urge to possess, anurge to ruin but in the mostdelicious way possible.

God, was heactually stood here in a coffee shop lusting after a random barista? He fannedhimself with his suit jacket inconspicuously, looking around to make sure noone saw that.

He edged slowly up the line, people in front of him leavingone by one, but he kept his eyes trained on the boy, he couldn’t help himself.Seconds turned into minutes and yet Liam still couldn’t take his eyes off him.

***

“Zaynie!” Niall rushed up to him as he was doodling still,and he looked up at his friend, gracing him with a small smile. Niall’sliveliness was always infectious, his cackling laughter some of the best noisesZayn has ever heard.

“What’s up?”

“Louis wants to know why you’re brooding again.” Niallstated bluntly, head tilting backwards where Louis was pretending not tolisten.

With a huff, Zayn replied, “I’m not brooding – no, honestlyI’m not.” He emphasized as his friendlooked doubtful.

“Just, I feel like there’s nothing to look forward to thisyear. I dunno, is this what seasonal depression feels like?”

Louis, who had given up all pretense of not listening, cameover and tapped Niall on the shoulder to let him take over the orders. Hisperceived stare bore through Zayn, the latter of whom squirmed uncomfortablyunder the scrutiny.

“Listen, mate, how about we use that money we saved and getyou to – “

Zayn hastily replied with a resounding no, that money was for when it all went balls up, and he wasn’tgoing to waste it just because he felt homesick or bored.

“Oi, Louis! Here’s a Midlander for ya!” Niall called outfrom his position at the cash register, a wide grin threatening to split hisface as he chatted merrily with a customer.

Louis turned around with a confused expression, “What, issomeone cosplaying again?”

Zayn snorted and got up from his seat, determined to end theuncomfortably deep conversation he was having with Louis. He walked towardsNiall with a smile, “Nah, it just means the person is from –“

But the rest of his sentence never made it out of his throatbecause apparently someone ran away with his tongue. Someone who looked a lot like the man standing in front of him;regarding Zayn with calculating yet warm brown eyes.

Zayn took a few seconds to take him in, he seemed to beolder than him, late 30s maybe? He hadthose aforementioned gentle brown eyes, an adorably appropriate button nose andlips that were made to sin.

How were they so red? –

A loud clearing of the throat snapped him out of his reverieand he winced and realized he had been staring at the customer’s lips. Hischeeks flushed heavily and he ducked down behind Niall who was turningviolently purple from holding in his laughter. The dick.

A deep voice brought his attention back to the man who onlyamusedly murmured, “That’s Outlander, actually,” in a familiar yet foreignaccent. He was English and his accent was maybe close to where Louis and Zaynoriginated from, but it had a slight tang of New York phasing out of it.

So, he was someone who has lived here long, Zayn thoughtabsently as he kept his eyes trained on the cup in front of him, uncapping amarker before looking up at the man again.

“Your name?” He rasped out, clearing his throat andhopefully his thoughts of anything too inappropriate.

…Is what you’ll shoutwhen I finally get you under me, Liam thought, before mentally giving hisbrain a slap. He was here for coffee not to pick a barista up.

“Liam,” he assuredly stated, a bit of his lost confidence inthe face of beauty (literally)returning to his demeanour.

He was confident and assertive in the way he uttered his name, and Liamwas a name Zayn felt he wouldn’t forget anytime soon. He blushed lightly at hisown thoughts and got to work quickly, unknowingly tugging at the heart stringsof a man who thought that love was lost to him.

***

Right, so Zayn was definitely, properly, gone for Liam. Everything about the man endeared and sethim on fire simultaneously. Those eyes as they crinkled up in a rare laugh atsomething Zayn said, that cute button nose that always takes the time to sniffat Harry’s baked goods appreciatively, and those lips that curve perfectlyaround his name.

Liam had been coming round to the coffee shop for over amonth now and with the weather slowly warming up and Valentine’s Day fastapproaching, Zayn was adamant to date Liam.

He’s got this coffee coloured birthmark that he feels is somesort of fated clue; Liam was always dressed professionally and ratherdeliciously in suits with perfectly knotted ties. Zayn’s favourite was the greycheck-patterned suit paired with a white shirt and a pink silk pocket square.

Liam had been going to a charity gala wearing that suit,he’d informed Zayn , as he stood idly in front of the marble counter, on a lessbusy evening while Zayn waited for the espresso to brew.

Zayn remembered he could hardly keep his eyes off the man, hishair shorn down to a buzzcut with the slightest hint of silver around histemples. But he was soon caught, as amused brown eyes met his as Zayn finallyfinished doing a body scan on Liam.

The boy had blushed intensely before turning his back onLiam, pretending to keep busy with the espresso, even though he had to do nothing;the machine was doing all the work.

A slight chuckle was all he heard before the machine drippedthe dark brown liquid down into the waiting shot glass. A few minutes later, hefinished preparing the man’s drink and handed it over to him with a smallsmile.

“Thank you,” was all Liam murmured to him before he wasgraced with a wink and the man soon left after.

And that isexactly why Zayn is confused; Liam seems to show interest in the way he regardsZayn, the way his stare makes the boy’s cheeks flame, the little flirty momentsand smirks Liam throws his way.

A month of flirtyconversations and suggestive looks and yet not even an invitation to a drink?

Yeah, he was confused.

So he did what any person in a confusing situation might do,he turned to his friends. But as he filled his three friends in on histroubles, three very sly, almost Cheshire cat-like grins awaited him. He couldpractically see Louis rubbing his hands together in anticipation.

What the fuck did hejust get himself into?

***

Harry opted to help him out first, which was rather helpfulof his friend, Zayn thought, but all that ground to a halt when he heard hisfriend’s idea.

“A love note?”Zayn all but exclaimed incredulously as he lounged on their shared couch in thelittle apartment they shared not a long way away from the shop.

Harry who was currently perched on Louis’ lap (“My baby may have outgrown me, but he’s stillmy baby!”) nodded enthusiastically at him, jostling his boyfriend’s grip onhis beer bottle.

“Watch it!”

Harry only frowned down at Louis before turning back toZayn, ignoring his boyfriend’s irritated huff.

“Trust me, Liam’s gonna love it and he’s going to be beggingto know who it’s from!”

Zayn sighed quietly, mulling over the proposed idea.

The television blared loudly as Niall sat on the carpetedfloor in front of it, staring unblinkingly at Tiger Woods moving around on agolf course. Louis looked like he was close to dozing off, his head alreadyleaning against Harry’s shoulder and his beer bottle now lying empty on thefloor.

Great, so thosetwo were no help.

He remained unconvinced by the idea of an unsigned love notefor Liam but Harry’s dimples deepened invitingly and those trustworthy, greeneyes finally groaned an agreement out of him.

God help him.

The next morning, Harry was acting like someone hadwillingly handed a baby over to him and named him Mick; he was dashing about,throwing smug grins at Zayn who only rolled his eyes at the impish behaviour.

When Zayn had asked him that morning, before the doors tothe shop were opened, what he had written in the love note, Harry had onlyshaken his head in a scolding manner before ordering him to start the service.

Soon, Liam was stood in front of the cash register, orderinghis usual coffee to-go, grinning at Louis as they made small talk. Zayn wastucked in the shadows at the end of the shop, keeping an eye on Harry as he boundedup to Liam with a pastry package. He shoved it at a perplexed Liam beforerather loudly proclaiming, “From a secret admirer!”

Zayn groaned internally and hid his head in his hands, trustMr. “I’m a baker!” to want to seduce a man with a baked pastry. When he lookedback up, Liam was stood a little way down the marble counter to the side wherethere were no customers. He was preoccupied with the pastry bag, those adorablebushy eyebrows furrowing in confusion as he pulled out a card. His eyes roveover the card before he pursed his lips in an odd expression.

Oh wow, this was Liam trying to hold in his laughter.

Wait –

He was laughing atthe card, oh God, what did Harry do?

Mind made up, he casually strolled past the cash register,pretending to straighten up the syrup station before he noticed Liam.

“Oh! Liam, didn’t see you there, mate. What’s that you’vegot?” He asked as nonchalantly as possible, although going by Louis’ scoff hemay have come across as too eager.

But the man didn’t mind sharing the ridiculous card, a largegrin gracing his usually subdued features. He flipped the card towards Zayn andheld it up. The boy took a look; it was a pink and white Valentine’s card witha smiling cartooned hammer and a nail looking at each other. The caption said:“I want to nail you! Happy Valentine’s Day!”

Zayn paled considerably as Liam took his expression ashorrified judgment and laughed loudly.

“This is properly hilarious, and kind of unnecessary.” Liamsaid, casually looking up at Zayn but his attention still on the god-awfulcard.

“Unnecessary?” Zayn stuttered out.

“Yeah, it’s just whoever this is clearly wants no-stringsattached and I mean at this point in my life, I’m not looking for that. I’mlooking for something permanent.” He proclaimed, the words hanging meaningfullybetween them before Liam rapped the counter with his knuckles and headed outwith a goodbye.

Zayn stood there, utterly embarrassed yet still determined,if he was to judge Liam’s intent gaze towards him as he stated his wish for afuture.

And yes, he wanted exactly that. He wanted a future withLiam, where instead of sharing small smiles and awkward small talk over themarble counter, he shared soft, gentle pecks and warm hugs with a murmured good morning.

He sighed heavily and banged his forehead against themarble.

Right, time to break out the big guns. Tommo to the rescue.

***

Louis was very secretive about his idea, even went as far asto claim it was a gift. Now that confused Zayn, because Louis had packed the‘gift’ into a very thin brown bag to go with Liam’s Sunday coffee and breakfastthat he always took at the shop.

Sundays were also pretty stressful for Zayn; not just thatcustomers were milling in by the tens, rather a very intense looking Liam Paynesat in close proximity to where Zayn usually stood behind the counter. Hisknees felt weak every time they made eye contact, something hot and stormybrewing in those brown orbs.

But as Liam reached for his breakfast sandwich, somethingheavy like a booklet falls out of the brown packaging. Confusedly, he reacheddown for the long booklet that looked more like a cheque book but the vibrantpink and purple colours assured him it wasn’t.

He raised his head and looked around, maybe someone slippedit in or left it accidentally, but he paused as he flipped it around to readwhat was written on it.

Across the shop, Zayn held his breath as Liam looked aroundhim at the customers chatting away before finally zeroing in on Louis.

Zayn frowned as he watched Liam stand up from his chair andstride determinedly towards Louis before seeming hesitant to talk to him.

“Mate?” Louis has noticed now that Liam is stood in front ofhim, but he doesn’t see the cheque book like gift clutched in Liam’s fist.

The older man clears his throat uncomfortably, beforeraising the booklet to Louis’ eye level.

“Um, Louis, I appreciate the gift but, um, I’m not sure youand I – “

But Zayn zoned out of what Liam was saying, no his attentionwas on the booklet that Liam was waving around.

“Sex Favours for You,” it proclaimed in a loud, black textas Zayn felt like he needed to change state into a liquid form so he couldgladly sink down a drain.

Shamefaced, his cheeks burned red as he watched Liamcontinue his speech apparently letting Louis down gently.

But his friend only chuckled, causing Liam to stop and raisehis eyebrows.

“Mate! It’s not from me,it’s from your secret admirer.” Louis set the record straight, with a smugexpression fixed on his face.

Liam’s face cleared itself of the discomfort, and he laughedlightly and flapped the book around comically. For some reason, he snuck a lookat Zayn, who hurried to look busy and not like he was shamelesslyeavesdropping.

The man cleared his throat and went to a nearby bin,dropping the booklet unceremoniously and without any doubts. Zayn held hisbreath; what did this mean for him? Sure, Liam said he wasn’t interested inonly sex but had looked at him rather significantly before throwing the giftaway.

Seriously, what was he going to do now?

***

Zayn flopped onto his belly with a groan on his bed. Niallpatted his leg affectionately before falling silent; the only sounds in theroom were Zayn’s heavy breathing and Niall’s constant munching on crisps.

“Zaynie…” Niall started gently, before sighing anddiscarding his packet of snacks to the side before manhandling Zayn to facehim.

“Stop it,” he warned him, flicking Zayn’s nose. “You’reoverthinking this, mate. You like him right? Just tell him! Or if it’s easierfor you, write it down and give it to him.”

Zayn’s voice wobbled as he managed a, “Niall, I think I lovehim.” The boy turned back onto his belly, hiding his face in his pillow, eyesfilled with tears.

But Niall jumped up off the bed landing with a thump on thefloor.

“That’s it!” He reached over to Zayn’s work desk, a mess ofscripts and unfinished works, before taking out a writing pad and offering itto Zayn with a pen.

“Write what you love about him,” Niall ordered Zayn who onlystared at his friend in a daze before he was sitting up and accepting the padand pen.

“What’s that gonna do?” Zayn’s voice rasped out, tears stillevident in his tone.

“Solve your fecking problems!” Niall turned ratherdramatically and marched out of Zayn’s bedroom, shutting the door behind him.

Words were his thing, had always been his specialty, evenwhen they failed to get him his dream career. That’s what he did best. So Zaynput pen to paper and started writing, loopy handwriting shaping out the profoundsort of love he felt for Liam.

***

The next day Liam doesn’t show up until the evening; clad ina black tux this time, hair grown out and artfully styled, a small smilegracing his features as he greeted Zayn.

The boy was subdued Liam noticed, more so than usual, andhis odd behaviour worried the man who didn’t like seeing Zayn like this, likesomeone had snuffed out the light inside of him.

Zayn was chewing incessantly on his bottom lip, refusing tomake eye contact with Liam but soon Niall brought his order out with a biggrin.

Liam accepted it with and absent-minded thanks, and turnedaround to leave before he realized something was wrong halfway out of the shop.His coffee cup was empty; rather it was full of papers, he realized perplexedly,as he shook it back and forth and heard a rustling.

Confused beyond belief and fearing something inappropriateyet again, he slowly edged the lid off and stared down at the messy mound ofchits, loopy handwriting staring up at him.

The first chit was unrolled and it read, “I love the way hesmirks at me with those unbelievable looking lips.”

Liam huffed at the sentence, bizarre as it was, he couldn’thelp but notice the word ‘love’. His heart skipped a beat and he reached foranother chit, oblivious to the four sets of eyes on him, one particular setbelonged to a rather nervous and teary-eyed boy.

The second one read, “I love the way he always says goodmorning even if he’s having a shit day.”

A third chit said, “I love the way his eyes twinkle when hetalks about his family.”

“I love the little coffee-coloured birthmark on his neck.”

“I love that he always takes the time to get to knowpeople.”

“I love the suits he wears almost every day.”

“I love the fact that even though he doesn’t love me, healways makes sure I’m okay.”

At the last one, Liam furrowed his eyebrows, emotionsflitting from happiness to complete confusion. Who was this person? And how didthey know him so well? He was about to look up to ask Niall, when he noticed afinal chit at the bottom of the empty cup.

“I love you, Liam. Always.

- Zayn xx”

Liam’s breath whooshed out of him, and he looked up at theboy with his mouth agape.

Zayn loved him? Him?

Finally, the last puzzle piece shifted into place; the boyhe was head over heels for was actually interested in him, in Liam. He could scarcely believe hisluck, not only was he under the impression that Zayn wasn’t interested in him,Liam was always aware of the significant age gap between them.

He huffed out a breath incredulously before forcing himselfto move. But he didn’t make his way towards Zayn like his heart was pushing himto.

He forced himself to walk out the door determinedly.

Zayn watched the love of his life walk out of the coffeeshop, possibly to never return. The coffee shop was completely empty ofcustomers and Zayn couldn’t help but let out a wounded noise as he sank to theground, arms wrapped around himself.

He felt hands on him, comforting words murmured into hishair, but he didn’t care. Liam had taken one look at the person behind thesilly notes and decided he didn’t want any of it. All of his fears had cometrue.

He doesn’t know how long he sat there, knees aching, cryinginto his friends’ embraces, before a loud bang jolted him.

Footsteps hurried towards them, and he heard Louis shoutout, “What the fuck do you want now?”

All of a sudden, he felt the warmth of Harry leave him, andZayn felt shocked at the loss before it was replaced by another person. Liam.

“Darling, don’t cry,” Liam cooed in his ear, lips pressinggently onto his tear-stained cheeks.

Zayn let out a confused sob as he cautiously looked up atLiam, who only tutted quietly at him, cupping his cheeks with large hands. Afleeting kiss was pressed into his forehead and Zayn leaned into the wonderfulfeeling before Liam was wiping his tears for him.

Still sitting on the floor like a dolt, Zayn attempted tosort himself out as best he could, scrubbing his face clean of tears andrunning a haphazard hand through his hair.

Liam gazed patiently at Zayn before murmuring to the boy, “Now,I still have an event to get to, darling, but I was wondering if you were freetomorrow?”

“Tomorrow? Why?” The boy asked with an adorably confused expressionon his face.

Liam beamed at him, “Yeah, there’s this art gallery openingI want to take you to.”

Zayn’s mouth gaped open, eyes wide as they gazed up at Liam,“You – you’re taking me to an art show? Like – on a date?”

The man nodded and chuckled at Zayn’s answering grin,pressing more lingering kisses onto the boy’s cheeks before moving away tostand up.

Zayn stood up with him, noting how his friends had alreadyleft, probably to grace him with the last shred of dignity he had left. Liamreached over to the marble counter, where he picked up a beautiful bouquet ofwhite roses and offered it gently to Zayn.

“White roses for my Yorkshire boy.”

Liam leaned down and kissed the corner of his mouth softly,before smiling at him and turning away to the doors of the shop. He stopped atthe doors and turned back to Zayn and called out.

“See you tomorrow, darling. I’ll pick you up.”

And with that final sentence, the love of Zayn’s life walkedout again, this time leaving the boy with a heart bursting full of joy and asmile that lasted for hours as he buried his nose in the beautiful flowers allnight.

#ziam #fanfiction #noshowolfie #ziamfanfiction #my fic

32 notes · View notes

wispyatomica · 7 years

Text

The Rabbit, The Rat, and the Hog (Chapter 7) - Alone at Night

I took a few liberties with Roadhog’s healing ability, hopefully it doesn’t seem too off putting in this essence. ^^; Chapter 7 is a bit of a long one! Enjoy!

Want to catch up or read the full fanfic? Check out the Archive!

Hours had past since D.Va had started the skeletal sketch of her MEKA from memory, the fading sunset light turning into black as a cool air settled into the factory building. She had already grabbed a lantern from one of the spare rooms and was using it as a light on her conveyor belt desk. Her pencil was sketching on the corner of the paper now, a heart surrounded with a series of four circular lines, she figured that if she was building one from scratch, she was going to make it her own. It was when she finished that sketch that she heard commotion coming from the catwalk and looked up to see Roadhog emerge from the room. Strangely enough, the large junker was not wearing any of his gear, the backpack straps and weaponry that had been on his visage the entire day she had seen him was finally off, and she could now see on his bare torso the large pig tattoo that he had. It was no doubt done professionally as it was clean, she wondered how long he had that tattoo and if it had figured into his criminal alias.

“G’mornin’ sunshine! Did’ya sleep this time?” Jamison chimed in quickly, having moved from his work station position, climbing up the stairs as he inquired about his friend’s rest.

Roadhog grunted and shrugged his shoulders in response to his question. She could hardly hear any of Junkrat’s further questions as they were out of earshot on the catwalk, and for once the smaller junker was being somewhat quiet. She tried to pay no mind to their conversation, not wanting to draw any reason for either of them to turn on her despite their unusual display of kindness towards her. She instead turned back to her sketching, finishing up on the skeletal structure of her future MEKA hull, when Junkrat’s exceptionally loud voice caught her attention with a loud holler.

“All patched up! Thanks Roadie. Knew I kept ya around fer somethin’!”

Roadhog grunted in annoyance but nodded his head to his companion, who was bouncing around excitedly. What caught her attention further was when Junkrat came barrelling down the stairs towards her, no bandage wrapped around his torso this time, and to her complete shock, an entirely healed torso. While he had always been shirtless, the most she had seen of him was his injury and it was none too pretty to look at, this time she was able to see all of the details of his chiseled torso and toned shoulders. The permadirt was scattered all across his chest, and despite how gross it seemed to her, it was fitting for him. She found herself staring at his left side, where there was a shotgun blast the day before.

“How did you-”

“Ah ah, take a look at yours, sheila!” He interrupted quickly, pointing at the series of three bandages around her right arm. She tilted her head slightly, before taking her left arm and undoing the bandages with ease, one after the other she revealed completely healed over skin and tissue; it was as if there was never a bullet in her arm.

“How is that possible?” Hana questioned, looking over her arm with slight concern, as if she moved it into a new position the scar and tissue damage would reveal itself again, yet no such thing occurred. Junkrat giggled excitedly, pointing a thumb over to Roadhog and proudly puffing up his chest. “Ol Roadie has got the remedy for immediate injuries, dunno how he does it, but it’s all him.”

She glanced over towards Roadhog, who had by then hit the bottom of the catwalk and was turning into the room hidden beneath the stairs, retrieving his weaponry from his own storage area. D.Va watched him through the door for a moment, before remembering the strange canister of gas that he had her inhale the night before, “Wait a second, that cannister, is that the stuff?” “Too right, mate.” “That’s incredible…” She responded, completely astonished by her 100% recovery from a banged up arm. The moment was however interrupted as Roadhog tossed Junkrat’s frag launcher on the ground near his feet.

“We need more food, Jamison.”

“OI, I thought I told ya not to call me that!”

“Jamison?” Hana inquired with a tilt of her head, causing the hunched over junker to shudder slightly. Roadhog chuckled behind his mask, responding to Hana’s inquiry. “It’s his real name. He hates it.”

Hana liked the relationship that the two had, it reminded her of the relationship that she and her brother had; constantly picking on each other, but always at each other’s backs in the blink of an eye. It was a nice change of pace for her, as she had adjusted to living on her own for the longest time, save for the occasional visit from her obsessive older neighbor who was making sure that she was eating properly.

Junkrat aggressively picked up his grenade launcher, patting the gun gently and making sure it wasn’t damaged as he shot a surprisingly angry glare over at his larger companion. “I also told ya not to throw my gun like that.” Roadhog grunted in response, pointing a hand over towards the large spiked tire that Hana had unhooked from his back the night before. Junkrat looked as if he was going to retaliate, but instead moved over to his tire, deciding against challenging Roadhog. Perhaps their relationship wasn’t as brotherly as she had initially seen. She was pulled from her thoughts by Roadhog as he tapped her on the shoulder with a large finger.

“We will be back in a few hours.”

“You’re gonna leave me here alone at night?”

Roadhog nodded his head in response, hardly giving her the chance to question him again as he moved off towards his parked chopper, and it was then that she did think of something that she had been wanting to ask. “Wait, Roadhog!” She called out as she jumped from the box she was sitting on, moving over towards the bulkier male. He turned to face her as she reached his side, “Do you have any water here? I haven’t had anything to drink.” She had noticed her dry throat earlier when Junkrat had shooed her away from his work station, but she had not bothered to ask. The latter happened to hear her question, draping an elbow onto her shoulder and leaning against her with the full weight of his surprisingly heavy body. “I’ll show ya the spring.” “Spring?” Hana commented, tilting her head as Junkrat motioned for her to follow him while he finished strapping a satchel around his waist.

Carrying a dirty canteen in his hand, he stepped out of the factory door, the cool air of the Australian desert tingling against his skin, it was a welcomed sensation that he had grown very accustomed to in the Outback. “I found it while we were scouting the buildin’ when we found it. Looks like it was powered by water flow.” He moved off around a corner of the building, Hana following close behind him in the bright moonlight of the desert, until they reached a manmade cave entrance. Junkrat was the first one inside, and Hana hesitated for a moment before quickly following behind him. The moonlight fading, leaving a darkness that she was unfamiliar with, one that did truly frighten her. She felt so alone, despite hearing the nearby sound of Junkrat’s metallic leg tapping against the sandy cave floor. She reached out into the darkness ahead of her, grabbing onto Junkrat’s muscular forearm, which caused the latter to pause and look back around.

“What’s the matter? Scared of the dark?”

“Hardly, I just don’t want you to leave me for dead in here until the morning comes.”

Junkrat laughed heartily as the feeling of close cool rock gave way around them to a perceptually more open room. He pulled his arm away from hers for a moment, leaving her alone to hear the sound of flowing water. She looked around for a moment, looking for the flame ridden blonde hair of his and was met with the bright light of a lantern being flicked on. The bright white LED light illuminated the open room around them, it was quite impressive that this was all found in the middle of the Outback, quite possibly too convenient. The factory wall could easily be seen, a metal structure surrounded a stream of water flowing past her feet, and as her gaze followed the water downstream where she saw a large clear pool where the water was flowing to a stop. She shifted her gaze upstream, the sound of running water drawing her in once more as the source was discovered, a small waterfall.

“Wow...you guys are some lucky criminals to have found a place like this to whole up.”

“It took me an Roadie nearly a week to get the damn thing flowin’ again, girlie. We almost died of thirst before we got it runnin’ again.”

“I admit that I’m impressed with you two.”

Junkrat laughed as he moved over to the waterfall, opening the lid to his canteen and letting the clear liquid fill the bottle before he attached it to his satchel. “See ya in the mornin’ sheila.” He commented, lightly waving his hand over his shoulder as he left her in the lantern lit cavern, a smile forming on his lips as he looked partially back over his shoulder while he exited the cave. The moonlight returning to his amber eyes as he moved towards Roadhog, who fired up the chopper motorcycle. With a few bounds, Junkrat had launched himself into the painted sidecar, when Roadhog hit the gas and took off into the Australian outback away from their base.

“Okay, I’m completely alone in the Australian outback with two international criminals, both of which might kill me in a seconds’ notice.” She commented her herself as she moved over to the waterfall, sticking her dried lips into the cool liquid and slurping up as much water as she pleased. The water wasn’t cold, but it was cool enough to be refreshing, and once she had her fill, she got another idea. She looked over her arms, which were covered with dirt and dust, and then back to the waterfall.

“Might as well utilize them being gone to get cleaned up, maybe those two have some stolen clothes somewhere in those rooms.”

Hana took the LED lantern with her this time, using it to guide her way out of the hydropower area and back into the main factory. While crossing the small distance outside, she could see the fading dust trail left by the motorcycle Roadhog and Junkrat had just departed on, for her it was a relief to finally be alone, it was uneasy being in the company of two well known criminals. Once she had re-entered the building, she searched room to room of the factory floor and catwalk, until she discovered the motherload, figuratively speaking of course. She had stepped inside of one of the catwalk former office spaces, one that was completely full of spare parts and broken computer desks and monitors, none of which caught her interest. It was a pile of old office uniforms, she saw multiple pairs of khaki colored pants and various orange shaded t-shirts and tops. “Come on, please tell me there’s something for a gi- YES!”

She exclaimed in happiness, having found a fairly decent looking pair wide bottomed khaki pants that looked close enough to her size. This was indeed her lucky day, her old maintenance pants needed to be cleaned, and these would be what she would wear until they were dry. Hana stashed the pair of pants over her shoulder, digging through some more of the old work uniforms and found a white t-shirt with a small logo on the chest. The t-shirt looked to be her size, giving it a questionable look as she again tossed it over her shoulder with the pants. A few more minutes of looking around, and she decided that if she wasted anymore time, the duo would be back and she wouldn’t have even had the chance to clean herself.

She righted herself to her feet, moving swiftly through the building, making sure to retrieve her light gun before heading back outside to the cave entrance of the waterfall that used to power the building. There was no way that this ancient building would ever run again using water power, but the fact that there was a clean water source for her, she was content with that. She approached the waterfall, once more dunking her head under the water to get a big gulp of the refreshing liquid, her parched throat feeling much better, the harsh cough she had the previous day no longer apparent. She took a moment to look over her shoulder again, she did feel exposed, but she knew they were a thousand miles from anywhere, she should be safe.

She set the new clothes she had found on the ground far away from the water, so that she might spare them from getting wet. Hana rested herself on the ground, removing the work boots she wore that had made her feet so sore, a reality she hadn’t discovered until she had taken them off. The cool air of the cave tickled her skin as she removed her top, following suit with her bra, before slipping her cargo pants down her hips with her underwear tucked inside. She glanced over her shoulder once more, her hands covering her exposed body as she made sure that nobody was near the entrance, before finally moving into the waterfall’s stream.

The water was cold, but it was so refreshing to feel the layer of dirt rinse off of her skin, rubbing circles into the worse places on her arms, chest and stomach. Her hair was still tied up in a bun, and with a quick flick of her wrist she undid the ponytail, letting her brown hair flow freely from her neck and into the cool water stream, washing the dirt and grime out of her hair next. It was such a relaxing moment, that once she was cleaned off, she stood under the water for several minutes, enjoying herself for as long as she could.

“Shit….I don’t have a towel...Guess you’ll be using the dirty clothes then, not that the new ones are any cleaner.” She commented to herself as she tip toed through the cold cave floor and over to her clean clothes. She grabbed her old green shirt, turning it inside out and using it to crudely dry off her body as much as she possibly could. Luckily, it was able to do the job, her hair would just have to air dry this time, as much as she hated that.

Carefully Hana slipped back into her undergarments and then into the khaki pants she had just found, struggling to slide them over her thighs for a few moments due to her still damp skin. Once she had them up, the fabric fit perfectly against her rear and thighs, but was a bit loose in the hips. She placed her hands on her hips for a moment, before slipping on the white t-shirt she had found. It was also a close fit, but she could make it work, she would just have to scavenge the factory for some stuff. She crept over to her old clothes, lying them flat against the floor of the cave to let them air dry and retrieving her light pistol as she slipped back into her boots and snuck back inside of the factory.

“Alright Hana, you need scissors and a belt, something to keep these pants from falling down…”

She was often one to think aloud to herself, having accustomed to living on her own she often did that to help her remember things she needed to get done. She tapped a hand against her chin for a moment, before her eyes caught sight of Junkrat’s work station in the corner of the factory floor. Surely in all of the mess of stuff he had over there, was some sort of scissors. She made her way across the floor, careful not to disturb Junkrat’s stuff too much as she searched for something that she could use, and as luck would have her she found a pair of scissors hidden under several older sketches of Junkrat’s mine blueprints.

“Thank god this place had offices.” D.Va commented in a victorious tone of voice as she removed the t-shirt from her body, she carefully lied it flat against the conveyer belt she was using as a drawing canvas, using the scissors to cut off the sleeves of the shirt, and half of the bottom of the shirt. She nodded her head to herself as she victoriously slid the new tank top over her head and back onto her body, without the loose fitting bottom she felt a lot more comfortable. She placed her hands on her hips and gave a nod of approval before glancing around the factory floor. “Wonder if there is any utility belts around here…” She commented to herself.

She carefully walked around the open factory floor, letting her eyes roam freely as she was finally able to take in the true scale of the building thanks to that much brighter LED light she had been towing with her. With the lantern in her hand she moved to a half broken door, one that was half blocking a room. She could faintly make out a sign on the door. Electricians Only.

That sounds promising.

Hana tried moving the door for a few minutes, finding it very hard to move, until she finally grew tired of trying the hard way. She placed the lantern down, and with a swift motion of her leg, delivered a solid kick to a corner of the door, one that broke it down, collapsing it off to the side. She grinned to herself, “That’s what you get you peice of junk.” She picked the lantern up once more and stepped inside. The room had already been raided by Junkrat and Roadhog for the most part, as she could see prints in various spots in the room where fresh dust had fallen compared to older and darker layers. As she passed by several emptied and trashed lockers, a glint caught her attention from the lantern. She turned to see what looked like a large rectangular belt buckle. She tilted her head slightly reaching for the buckle only to find it attached to an odd pair of, leggings? She needed a better look at this, and the faint moonlight in the factory floor would be better.

Once onto the floor she placed the lantern on the conveyer belt, holding the strange pants up in the light to get as good of a look as she could. Sure enough there was a large silver rectangular belt buckle, one that was no doubt sturdy, the thighs of the leggings were reinforced with a heavier and thicker material, one that felt resistant to damage.

I think I know what these are...They’re like those funny pants the American cowboys would wear in those horrible old movies, except they’re industrialized! She tilted her head for a moment, folding with the strange belt until she finally figured out how it unhooked, stretching the fabric of the leggings as she slipped them up her khaki pants, the hip straps falling perfectly into place, allowing her to very easily interconnect the belt with her khakis and keep them in place. The pant legs of the industrialized chaps wrapping around the bottom of her khaki’s creating a protective shield for her ankles. She took a moment to look over the strange outfit that she had managed to hodge podge together in an abandoned warehouse in the middle of nowhere.

“Not bad, Hana...Not bad at all.”

Minutes turned to hours, and as the night wore away, Hana had found herself falling asleep on the conveyer belt as she tried to wait up for Junkrat and Roadhog to return. She had tried to sketch more of the MEKA unit that she could, but her tiring brain kept her from making much progress. The moonlight was dim in the room, making it nearly impossible to tell what time of night it was, and so with no visible sign of Junkrat and Roadhog returning soon, she settled to move back up to the room in which she had rested in previously. She stepped inside, having found that the blankets were tossed around again, but something did catch her attention. She had completely forgotten about her the headset that she used for interfacing with her MEKA unit in the room, and she saw it safely hanging from a clip on the wall. She tilted her head, grabbing the headset with her hands and placing it firmly on her head. She sighed wearily, moving her body down onto the futon mattress. The cool air had almost completely dried her hair in a wavy pattern, her bangs luckily still falling into proper place on her forehead as she leaned her head against a wall and decided to get some rest while the building was silent.

------

“Private Chung, how is the search for former Private Song coming?” Captain Seo questioned in their native Korean language, his visage having become more stern and aggressive as their awol pilot had now been missing for going on three days. Sumi Chung shook her head negatively to the Captain,

“We have been looking evidence of her everywhere, when we took the MEKA units out with permission from the Australian military we couldn’t get close enough to her last pinged signal.”

“Surely she took some means of communications with her, I find it hard to believe that a young person would go anywhere without a cell phone, especially her.”

Sumi sighed and looked over to the other new recruit they had, in his hands he held the entire contents of Hana’s personal locker, including her portable gaming system and cell phone. The hours were mounting against them, the longer that she was out there meant that they had less and less time to locate her. Captain Seo sighed heavily, asking the new recruit to leave the room so that he and Sumi could speak in private.

Sumi’s posture changed as Captain Seo seemed to untense slightly himself. He tapped a finger to his temple in frustration, before raising his voice. “I did not want to do this. Private Chung, this conversation did not take place. Any intel that leaves this room will subject you to treason as well.”

“Y-Yes sir.” Sumi responded nervously, watching as Seo moved his hand down and pressed a couple of buttons on a keypad beneath the screen view of himself. A display of the Australian countryside was brought up beside him, and a small red dot appeared around a few hundred miles away from the sight of the Omnium’s destruction years ago. “All MEKA head gear is equipped with an emergency locater for down and injured MEKA pilots. The locater in Song’s headset is still active, pinging at this location.”

Sumi removed her own MEKA headset from her head, looking over the piece of technology as if she was trying to figure out just what on the headset could be the locator, and it was then that the Captain spoke up again.

“Private Chung, I am giving you a special ops mission. You have been given full clearance to take your MEKA to this location and retrieve her. Bring her back to the frigate, I shall inquire with the Australian police force to see if they would send a convoy to help bring her back.” He paused for a moment, noticing the distress on the young woman’s face. It was clear to him that she was torn on this mission.

“Sumi.” He spoke in a soft tone of voice, one that managed to catch her attention and bring her gaze back up from the floor to look at him. “I know that she was your friend, but she is jeopardizing everything that the MEKA force stands for, as well as disobeying direct orders from a commanding officer. I ask that you please lay your feelings for her aside, in order to complete this mission.

Sumi remained unchanged for a few moments, her facial expression still exhibiting a torn frown. Hana had been her friend ever since they had joined the MEKA force, and the two had been inseparable on missions that they were assigned to together. It would be very difficult for her to entirely set aside her emotions in this mission. She raised her head from the ground again, looking up to Captain Seo and saluting to him, responding in as stern of a voice as she could muster.

“I understand Captain. When do I depart?” “Immediately.”

#The Rabbit The Rat and the Hog #D.VaRat #D.Rat #Junkbunny #Junksong #Junkrat #D.Va #Roadhog #Fanfiction #Dvarat #Garbage Gremlin

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