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#anyway I've tried to make it show in the tags but if it doesn't so be it
jazzyblusnowflake · 11 hours
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I've got one for ya. What were the first kisses in the N/V/Uzi relationship like. Uzi and N first, Uzi and V's first, and V and N's first.
(Bonus points for V and N's first kiss at the manner for some bittersweet angst)
Also, good golly gumdrops, love your stuff, even if you don't answer this one, still gonna keep enjoying
oh oh i love these kinds of ideas :"D tho it takes a bit of brain power to think of a good scene uhm.... lessee....
Ok so first up, although im still waiting for a canon first kiss for NUzi- since they are a thing now, i still like to think of something separate for my own version- [since obviously the main show isn't going towards a poly dynamic lmao]
See, we all know that the show is fast paced and its hard to find any empty spaces between each event, hell it almost feels like earth was blown apart and the DDs were on copper 9 the next day, Liam we need a fucking timeline order. 🙄 soooooo i personally like to imagine that there's a lot more time between events than is shown in the actual show. like- lets maybe put a few days between Uzi administrating N and V and the arrival of J and Cynessa- like.... maybe lets put a few NIGHTS between that??? what's the freaking rush 😭
But anyway yeah- i would put the first NUzi kiss somewhere around betwenn the camp and the flashback eps probably :p my idea would be that since the camp incidents, Uzi would be having a lot of bodily changes to deal with, one of which being her inability to tolerate the sun much anymore. other things would probably be the growth of literal flesh and blood and bones inside of her and lets make this morbid by adding her throwing up blood but keeping it a secret from everyone :p she may sneak back to the other two at night and stay with them- clearly shaken up- [V probably also being shaken up because on one hand she's terrified of seeing this transformation take place- but at the same time, she clearly cares enough about Uzi AND Ns happiness...] asking for help and advice- and the 3 grow closer during this. They practice with her for flying or controlling her tail- maybe some stuff on her control on oil hunger too. she probably also gets some fighting, sneaking and sparring practice with V-
//insert one of those cheesy moments where V riles up Uzi enough to tag her on the snowy ground but then realizes its the same position she got V in her solver!mode and starts panicking and pushing herself back- V getting back up and asking what the heck was that and Uzi just saying she doesn't want to hurt her and V is an insensitive jerk for making her spar with her in the first place and tries to fly away to calm down-..... which probably just ended with her falling face first in the snow and a lecture from both N and V.
overall they all started subconsciously getting even closer. tbh there's so many things i could add here but i gotta keep it a few NIGHTS not a few MONTHS until the next event 😭
either way during this i guess N and Uzi could have maybe ended up alone at some point- maybe after a flying lesson having gone right and they were a little too happy on top of a building or upturned bus or something lol- i imagine after a hug maybe Uzi asks if she could kiss N but quickly backtracks saying nvm it was stupid or something but N softly says its okay- //probably picks her up too, adding to her embarrassment- cuz she's short lmaooooo// and Uzi just decides to give a small unsure smooch- but decided to make it not too long. they decided to just hug after that to not let the other see them blushing like hell 😭 [also they didn't really decide anything after this cuz they are idiots????😭😭😭]
but anyway for the Vuzi first kiss i have no idea if or when V would return if she's been set to remain alive in the canon- but for me its probably when she appears again in her normal form, as herself. not a clone. Alice isn't alive to take the cores and make them sluggish with heat and the sentinels wouldn't have a chance against the solvers centipede lookin ass form.
Anyway if we consider that one way or another Uzi, N and V will meet up again, [and N and Uzi preferably get to share a better kiss this time-] the first thing Uzi is doing is landing a swift punch in Vs face and then kissing the daylights out of her- //confusing herself and everyone in the area in the process including V herself...// overall she would scold V on the whole "i trust you" shtick and leaving them alone- but yeah :p [ keep in mind that im also considering a few nights between when J and Cynessa show up and when they decide to actually go and find and search the labs, because PLOT REASONS :D ]
as for the first Envee kiss- ill do you one better and make it more angsty and say that N and V used to always spend time with each other and do silly things like hold hands in secret or send internal chat messages to eachother, draw and read books together- maybe N used to put flowers for her sometimes. But at some point a certain little corrupted drone started feeling possessive of her favorite "big brother" figure not spending time with her anymore...
one time, N had asked V if he could kiss her and at that they were both blushing messes but before V could respond they get interrupted- maybe by someone giving them orders or maybe by Cyn. either way, V quickly whispers to him "later, i promise" with a smile, making N happy and giddy. but the later never comes... V becomes comatose soon after... N sadly reading books to her and sometimes whispering to her to wake up and that she still has to keep her promise...
anyway after all things are said and done in the future and the solver is defeated- whether they are still living on copper 9 or any other planet idk- N, V and Uzi are all close, but since both N and V are close to Uzi, they also start spending more time with each other too. maybe one time on a walk or going out and about N was able to catch up with V and they reminisce about old memories they can now remember; and when V was finally able to open up a bit to N, he mentions that he still remembers the promise and asks her if he could kiss her again and she lets him.
and thaaaats all the brain power i have for tonight... i think... hope it made yall smile or cry or idk something lmao. :")
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timelessbian · 2 years
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emma swan 🤝 tally craven: love is stored in the "i believe you"
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raytorosaurus · 2 years
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Oh Gerard doesn't like the show?? I don't watch it so idk anything
he hasn't outright said he doesn't like it because he's not a dick and i'm sure he respects the team who work on it but like...okay i'm not gonna go and source all of this because it's stuff he's just kind of hinted at over a couple of years in various places but basically there was meant to be an umbrella academy movie in, like, 2012 or something that was going to be a pretty direct adaptation of the comics but it got canned. there definitely used to be a script floating around somewhere because i remember reading it a few years ago but i'm not sure how official/final it was. anyway it got canned because of the usual legal difficulties but also apparently gerard got a bit controlling about his artistic vision and wasn't happy with where it was going and shit.
anyway fast-forward to...2017 or 18 or whenever it was when they were first making the show and gerard was still relatively on board (he didn't have any input into the scripts themselves, but he had a hand in casting and discussed each of the character's arcs with steve blackman the showrunner, visited set a few times, that kind of thing. he made some comments in interviews that he'd matured a lot over the years and was now better at giving up creative control of things and listening to advice from the other people - he specifically mentioned being glad there was more racial diversity in the show because that's something he (very rightfully) regrets about the original comics. anyway he was involved a bit in the press for that first season before it aired and was pretty positive about it, and the first season is definitely the one that's most faithful to the comics (though tonally and thematically speaking it's a pretty loose adaptation). this got....looser as the show went.
like i said, gerard hasn't said anything actively negative about the show, but more recently he has kind of edged around praising it, stopped advertising it on social media even before he left instagram etc etc. He got asked what he thought about the music in the netflix show in an interview relatively recently and he gave a very roundabout careful answer (that's pretty representative of how he's recently spoken about the show in generally) that was basically "it's not.....what i would have chosen.........but i've gotten better at letting that kind of thing go." and then went on a spiel about how he considers the comics and the netflix show two entirely separate entities that have no bearing on each other. he's said multiple things like this clearly distancing himself from the show, and been quick to correct people when they assume he has a hand in writing it.
i'm sure he doesn't hate it! and i could well be projecting some of my own issues with the show onto gerard, but i will say the show like...at best extremely waters down, and at worst actively misinterprets the themes and aesthetics of the comics. and what does gerard care about if not themes and aesthetics you know? i'm not saying the show's terrible, i can see why people like it! and on the other hand i can see why some people wouldn't vibe with the comics! each of them have their own issues. but i personally did really love the comics before going into the show (they're actually how i got into mcr LOL), so i was disappointed by how a lot of things were handled - for example how much of its emotional resonance was kind of overlooked in favour of quirky jokes etc etc. a lot of that is to be expected just by virtue of netflix hosting it - the comics are way too dark to effectively translate to that platform, for starters. but anyway one of my biggest pet peeves is people calling gerard a "writer of netflix's umbrella academy" because i can guarantee you one thing, that show is not a gerard way creation, for better or worse.
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neverendingford · 8 months
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#tag talk#as much as I hate to see the social cinema grow as I get new followers. we're at a good and satisfying number. and I like that#also also also. I've introduced a friend to Hannibal (tv show) and he's loving it and I'm so happy cause none of#of my other friends have been able to stomach the body horror. so it's super cool to find someone to hype over it with#another random story that I genuinely can't remember if I said already. got told by a kid in minecraft that he's smiled a lot more around me#which. huge compliment. genuine honor to make people happy and smile and laugh#people don't laugh enough. we don't smile enough. be happy or die. and I'm too powerful to die. been there. haven't done that#cry and then laugh and then punch as hard as you can.#got to visit some of my favorite residents from the nursing home I first worked at. lotta new staff but my three favorite nurses are still#which is nice. I cried when I left that job because even though it crushed my soul I loved my coworkers and most of my residents.#I get why some healthcare workers grind themselves to the bone for the job. you're making such a huge difference in people's lives.#I tried but didn't have the fortitude for it. but it's nice to be able to go back and say hi to the friends I made and see how things are.#anyway. sorry for being weird like.. one or two weeks ago. I think things are settling out again. moving is rough but we're making it work#It's been a lot of Lear again lately. especially while being at my parents house. he doesn't mind being deadnamed as much sooo....#idk. at least one of us is capable of surviving the dmv and the state medicaid website. heaven knows I can't manage.#trying to stop using him as a crutch for getting things done has just resulted in us not being able to get things done.#but I don't want to be someone else I want to be me. I don't want to be the armor I want to be the human inside.#I don't want to live defensively. pushing everyone away. I can't do that.#anyway. we're back home! and work is on the horizon. hopefully this job works out cause I don't want to have to apply for new jobs.#the hr rep is a man at this store and I immediately got set on edge and our voice dropped as I stepped back.#then we introduced ourselves with the wrong name and he got confused and I just felt stupid about it#but how am I supposed to know which name he's been told. he didn't even use our paperwork name. Anyway that was a disaster#but we're on track and embarrassment is not a setback but a feeling about the way things progress. and it is progress we're making
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xolborsaysstuff · 1 year
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Keep on imagining if KF had an anime... This post would be too long so Imma just move to tags
#Imagining the fluidity of the motions adding more to the characters#Like. Okay so maybe people haven't really noticed and that's totally fair fair#But I love putting the actions and movements of my characters into what's going on even when it doesn't seem or even isn't important#And I love the fluidity of cartoons especially when they have that extra movements like for example when a character wobbles#Bad at explaining hh#When a character leans back and forth tilting their head and body like their body is sort of limp and loose#and showing that the character is seeming uncaring towards what's going on almost like they're bored or tired or like#The character is moving like that and they sorta look like a ragdoll?? I think it's so cool and fun when they do that#Because sometimes when it's done it can do stuff like show off things like they keep them moving like a doll on strings barely being held u#Mayhaps to show off that the character is more unpredictable and uncaring as they barely put effort into their movements#and leaving the protags uncomfortably unaware of what the wobbly person's next move is. Am I making sens e I hope so#Probs not because I haven't reread any of these tags. Oops.#Anyways back on track I also just like when the characters move like that because it's so fun to see#l like how Monoxol just sways around a lot.#Also I gave them messing with their hair cause I do that and my irl friend always got mad at me for doing that and tried to stop me#Because they thought it made me look like I had anxiety so I gave it to one of the characters who's the least anxious I've made ever LOL#xolmumbles#killing favorites
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onlyhuis · 3 months
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pro bono
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member — lawyer!wonwoo x lawyer!reader genre — smut, fwb to ?? word count — 1.1k synopsis — you and your coworker jeon wonwoo have been working on this case for months. now that it's finally over, he shows you that "for the public good" doesn't mean that he can't be good for you, too. aka: lawyer wonwoo fucking coworker reader after winning a case smut warnings — descriptions of female anatomy, prone bone (the title is a pun hehe), creampie (shocker i know!), spanking, hair pulling, dacryphilia, mirror sex, coworkers fwb!wonu, gratuitous descriptions of how wide wonu's shoulders are just because i can notes — requested by @junhuisms sorry this took so long bff </3 — lots of love to @onlymingyus for proofreading !! — probably some legal inaccuracies bc i know nothing about the law i'm just here to fuck the hot man so go easy on me pls. i really meant for this to be a longer fic but it's been in my docs for almost a year and i've been trying to not pressure myself to write a certain amount so i hope this is still able to live up to your expectations :) i know i've been pretty mia recently but i'm trying to get back into the swing of things so feedback is super super appreciated! hope you enjoy! note #2 — tumbly still hates me and is super finnicky about putting my posts in the tags so i haven't been able to use my regular divider image bc it bugs out :(( i've tried everything i'm sorry but pls lmk how you like this new one!
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you’d been working on this case for months, and it had been one to make or break your career. weeks upon weeks of research, reviewing documents and studying laws to make sure your arguments were seamless.
the upside to all this work, however, was that you got to know your coworker wonwoo better, who you’d been assigned to work on the case with. and by “get to know him,” what you really meant was “get railed every night after work”.
and tonight, after the trial had wrapped up and the court’s final decision had ruled in your favor, you found yourself where you’d grown accustomed to spending all your nights: in his penthouse apartment, and more specifically, in his bed.
the floor-length mirror in his room was one of your favorite things, because no matter what position you were in or how you were angled, you could always see wonwoo. see his broad shoulders, see his muscles flexing, see his abs tensing right before he cums; and god, it drives you crazy.
but it drives him even more crazy as he fucks you into his mattress, watching in the mirror’s reflection how your eyes are squeezed shut and tears stream down your cheeks onto his pillowcase. 
it’s one of his favorite positions, as you’ve learned over the past few months, to have you lying flat on your stomach as he fucks you from behind. with your body at this angle, he can get so much deeper into you, you can practically feel it in your stomach, and with only just a handful of thrusts he can make you fall apart on his cock in a matter of seconds. 
tonight, however, it’s taken less than that to make you cum. the pride of winning the case has him on a high, and he barely even needed to get you stretched out first. but he did anyway, his face buried between your thighs for what felt like eternity until you were pushing his head away and begging him to stop teasing.
you yelp as he twists his hand in your hair, yanking your neck back so you can see your reflection in the mirror.
your eyelids droop heavily, jaw hanging open as wonwoo meets your eyes in the mirror. “you see how well i fuck you, baby?” he groans, squeezing your hip with his other hand. “taking it so fucking well… i’ve fucked you stupid, haven’t i?”
all you can manage is a moan as tears begin to form in your eyes from the pleasure. you whimper quietly, noises muffled by the pillow as you struggle to catch your breath in between thrusts. you can already feel the burn of another orgasm in the pit of your stomach, and wonwoo’s hands pushing down on your lower back are making it impossible to hold back.
“my good girl,” he coos and he lets go of his hand in your hair, barely giving you a chance to catch yourself as your head falls forward and back down onto the pillow. “don’t hold back those pretty sounds. let everybody hear how you like to celebrate your wins. you deserve it, baby.”
“just as much a win for you— as it is for me,” you manage to gasp out. you struggle to keep your eyes open but you force yourself to, determined to see the way his face contorts in the mirror. his eyebrows furrow as he adjusts the angle of his hips, staring down at your ass, back arching into him and forcing his cock deeper with every stroke.
he leans down over you, caging your body with his own, his mouth brushing against the back of your neck. “we both know you did most of the work. and this… this is your reward.”
“wonwoo—” you moan out brokenly as his hands knead your ass roughly, grabbing at your skin and spreading you apart so he can push into you with more force. you clench around him and he curses, his hips starting to stutter.
without warning he pulls out, rolling you over onto your back. you whine at the sudden loss and at the ache in your muscles, but wonwoo just leans forward over your body to kiss you and suddenly you forget everything you were thinking about. you’re so caught up in his mouth on yours and his hands sliding over your body that you barely even notice when he pushes his cock back into you, never breaking away from your lips as he starts out a steady rhythm, gradually building back up to his pace from earlier.
finally he pulls away, sitting up to put his hands on the back of your thighs and push your legs up to your chest. your breath catches in your throat with each thrust, your mind reeling as you concentrate on the feeling of him so deep inside you, pressing against that sweet spot over and over again.
his broad chest is the only thing that fills your vision as you cum, and your brain barely registers the words that leave his mouth in that deep, gravelly voice you’ve become accustomed to hearing nearly every night. 
“taking every inch so fucking well,” he grunts, forehead glistening with sweat. “god, you look so good taking my cock.” his movements become more and more desperate as he starts to chase his high, his fingers digging into your skin so roughly to the point that you know you’ll find bruises there in the morning. 
still breathing heavily, you whine out his name one last time, sending him over the edge right behind you in a matter of seconds. he lets out a guttural groan, continuing to snap his hips frantically as your walls squeeze around his throbbing cock.
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wonwoo chuckles, handing you your purse and helping you shrug your coat on as you attempt to wipe the smudged mascara from your cheeks with your thumbs.
“same time, monday night?” you ask as he walks you down the hall to the elevator, holding the doors open with one hand.
he nods, not even making an attempt to hide the grin on his face. “you keep winning cases like you did today, and you might as well just move in. save you the trouble of calling a taxi every night.”
you laugh, knowing he’s not serious but your heart races at the thought anyway. “you keep fucking me like that, and i might take you up on that offer.”
he hums and raises his eyebrows, but you can tell he’s pleased. “i knew having that mirror installed was a good investment.”
you might not be getting paid for taking on pro bono cases, but just knowing that you’re helping people makes up for it. and of course, the compensation you get from your coworker is more than enough to keep you coming back for more. 
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i hope you enjoyed this!! if you did, consider reblogging or leaving a comment or an ask :) it shows me this is something people want to see more of, and knowing people like this makes me want to write more of it! thanks for reading!!
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angelltheninth · 9 months
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What are your flirting headcanons for Daniel, Gun, Xiaolong and James?
I'm still in the process of reading through this so I might not have the best grasp on the characters just yet. I'll give this my best.
Pairing: Daniel Park, Gun Park, Xiaolong, James Lee x Reader
Tags: fluff, teasing, flirting, kissing, gift giving, physical affection, jealousy, protectiveness, insecurity, clothes sharing
A/N: I still like Xiaolong the best, and I once mistakenly called him Xiaoli cause I've been having Genshin on the brain.
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DANIEL PARK
He is a complete and utter mess with you no matter what body he's in. True that he might get a small confidence boost but he doesn't know how to flirt at all, or what it feels like to be flirted with. He tries to copy things that he's seen or read, holding your hand and surprising you with kisses and such but you can see how he's still shaking with nervousness every time. He feels like everyone's watching, waiting for him to slip up so they can swoop in and make a move on you. It's only when you're alone that he lets his nerdy charms take over and truly shine.
GUN PARK
In private he loves to fluster you and kiss you breathless, until you're a moaning mess and more, in public he will always have a hand thrown over your shoulder and whisper in your ear about how jealous everyone else must be that the two of you are walking down the street, in love and they can't even come close. He is slightly insistent on you wearing something of his when you're going out, he won't say you have to but will strongly imply it by putting his suit jacket over you and leaving it there. Throws flirty and very suggestive lines at you almost every time he opens his mouth, which them makes you kiss him to get him to stop teasing you.
XIAOLONG
Only flirts in private because when you're outside his job comes first and foremost. The only kind of flirting he will do then is over text and even then they'll be one or two messages. He flirts with you when he stares at you, obviously looking up and down your body and undressing you with his eyes. God forbid another man look at you like does because they will get their teeth broken really fast. Of course this will be under the guise of protecting you, doing as he's payed to do, but to you its obvious he's jealous that other men can flirt with you openly but he has to hold back.
JAMES LEE
Keeps his flirting to touches and looks and lots and lots of kissing. He is a man on not many words anyway, unless your relationship is a good ways along at that point, in which case he will gladly interject teasing words in between his kisses. Hand kisses are his favorite when you're in public, or the ones where he will spin you around while kissing whispering things only you can hear, things that make your heart beat so hard he can feel it against his chest as well. Loves to trail his fingers over any patch of bare skin that's showing on your body and take note of that place so he can mark it with his lips later. Will also buy you things and give them to you in front of others, for example a necklace which you will let him put around your neck, making it easy for him to pull you into a kiss later.
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ssaaaronmontgomery · 10 months
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Morning, Mon
I'm thinking about after Hotch was in the bombing in Mayhem and lost some of his hearing, with reader who would be careful to always be on the side of his 'good' ear, or always really enunciate their words and try to speak with their mouth clearly in front of him since he has to rely on lipreading a bit more these days. Plus! they would totally show Jack to do the same since he loves to babble happily to his dad, but he sometimes misses what's being said. Being hotch though he's always too embarrassed to admit when he needs help or can't hear.
Have a blessed day, Beautiful
A Helping Hand
Warnings: Hearing loss, brief mention of the bombing, Hotch being too proud to ask for help (but eventually does), fluff.
Word count: 806
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x gn!reader
A/n: Oh yes yes!! This is one of the more recent ones I've seen when rewatching some of CM. It might be less of a fic?? Idk. BUT I'm posting it as one anyway 😌. Sorry if this isn't exactly what you wanted </3. I hope it's still enjoyable though :) This one was also not proofread so I apologise if there are any mistakes.
Forever tags: @greg-montgomery @boredelle @hotchsdoormat @ssahotchnerr @criminalskies @beardedhotchh @hotchnerbau @mrs-ssa-hotch @ssamorganhotchner (let me know if you want to be added🫶)
After the bombing and Aaron losing some of his hearing in one ear you've tried to be considerate of his new situation and how he lives now. You know he doesn't always catch everything that's being said to or around him but you also know he hates asking for people to speak louder and more clearly because of his hearing.
You've taken it upon yourself to do whatever you can to help him. And if everyone thought you liked being around him before, they should see you now. You're by his side almost constantly when you're on cases. It started when you noticed Aaron furrowing his brows even more and trying to lean in and turn his head so he could hear the officer more clearly, whether he realised he was doing it or not. When he still looked puzzled as to what was said you had walked over to him and made sure you repeated the officer's words into Hotch's good ear. He thanked you, though he did seem a bit embarrassed that you'd had to do that for him.
Hotch needs some extra care and consideration right now and though you know he hates needing extra help, or any help for that matter, he does need it. And you're happy to help him however you can. You're stuck to his side often. Even outside of work.
When everything happened and Aaron was spending time at home more, you visited every day if there wasn't a case. The first couple times you were there, you noticed Jack rambling about everything that popped into his head but Aaron was clearly not catching most of what was being said. He was trying to see the boy's face which was directed downwards as he played with his toys. Aaron would hum and nod even though he wasn't getting most of it.
When Aaron stood up to get you all a snack, you explained in a very nice and simple way to Jack that his dad can't hear very well right now. That it will help Aaron if he can see his mouth when he speaks and that it's best to speak as clearly as he can. "You understand what I'm saying, bug?" He nodded and said everything back to you so you knew he understood what you meant. For such a young child he was very intelligent and very understanding. He made sure to do just what you'd explained and you could see the look on Aaron's face when he was able to hear so much more of what the boy said to him.
Aaron didn't know you'd said this to his son. But if he knew, he'd have been very grateful regardless of the embarrassment he'd have felt. Because knowing what his son loves and wants to tell him all about is far more important to him than anything else.
Whenever Aaron was on the plane you always sat next to him, making sure to be on the side of his good ear. He noticed this after the first few times. He never mentioned it, though you knew he'd figured it out quickly.
He appreciated it. You always made sure he was fully informed and aware of what was happening. If someone threw an idea into the open and he looked a little lost, you would repeat it in his good ear. Or if you hadn't realised he missed something he would look to you and if you made eye contact he leaned in a little closer to you and you'd tell him then. Or if you hadn't been looking at him he would give you a slight nudge to get your attention. He was starting to get more comfortable asking for help, but only with you. He still wouldn't ask anyone else.
Everyone tried to be mindful and considerate. But they didn't go to the extent that you did.
Aaron's new situation was frustrating and irritating to him. It caused him more stress than he already had, which you knew was quite a bit. Sometimes it would overwhelm him and you were always there to pull him back down and comfort him. You were always there for him to lean on for support. He knew you didn't do all of this out of pity, but rather out of love and care and understanding for him.
There were a couple of times that he came to you in need of a shoulder to cry on. Both times it was mostly about him being afraid he'd never hear the same and that he would miss things he had taken for granted when he could hear them. He wasn't embarrassed around you anymore, especially not about this. He knew he could always come to you for support and he was always thanking you for how much you've helped him.
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sameschmidtdiffname · 3 months
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Tumblr WILL NOT let me post the fic and this ask at the same time and I've tried legit five times. So THANK YOU anon for the request and I'm sorry for the weirdness in uploading. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy this!
My Ghost.
Billy x Gender Neutral! Reader
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Summery: You don't know what happened that night. Things were fine, life was good, then your partner is on the news for all sorts of shit you never would've thought him capable of the day prior. He was dead, he was evil, and you were trying to move on. But what's the proper etiquette when the dead show up on your door unannounced?
Tags: No use of Y/N, hurt/comfort, fake death, mentions of drinking, drug use/dealing, grieving, arguing, cursing, flashbacks, brief suggestive scenes, suicidal thoughts.
Other Works in This Series: 'Repentance' (Prequel to 'My Ghost') • 'Lapses' (Sequel to 'My Ghost')
Notes: The way I've been trying to upload this for two hours. Oh my fucking God. Anyways, everyone say thank you to anon for getting me to write something that doesn't make God cry.
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I'm not hard to please, but I'm not desperate despite what the rumors may say.
People enjoy gossip. People who don't know fuck all about you. And my standards are fine. Were fine. And I don't mean standards such as 'buys me flowers everyday' or 'doesn't deal coke.' I mean standards such as 'is a decent fucking person.'
"That's what I thought you were up until all of this fucking... disappearing for months!" I scream, anger fueling me. I don't let the other emotions win out, don't let them have a say. Because if I do, I'll be too conflicted and overwhelmed and then I'm gonna cry, and that's not fair.
People had warned me he was trouble. Terms such as 'wannabe cowboy,' 'rebel without a cause' were tossed around in warning. But to me, he was just Billy.
Then he was dead.
Now, he was here. He showed up at my door nine months after leaving me with a small little keychain on the kitchen table and a soft kiss on my forehead, saying he had some plans for that evening. But he'll be back soon.
Then he was on the news. And a gas station blew up. Gangs, stolen vehicles. He was probably dead. Things would be easier if he was dead.
Fine. Maybe I initially ignored warning signs. Maybe I was distracted by his handsome side profile, too busy admiring his nose to notice the occasions it was dusted with the trace of a fine powder. Maybe his hands were too beautiful for me to realize they were slipping money to men in dark jackets when we went out to the rougher parts of town. But he was mine and I was his, and overall he was a good person.
He was alive. He was alive and I was mad because if he was dead then at least it would be valid that for nine months I have had to deal with the accusatory stares of our neighbors assuming I knew, the pity from my loved ones, and the betrayel that kept me awake at night. It would mean he hadn't left me to deal with his repercussions, that maybe there was a valid excuse. An undiagnosed brain tumor that finally gave way to insanity, a gun to his head. Something that was not the worst case scenario of just... being an awful person. I could let his things rest around the house undisturbed, hiding from the world and waiting to find the courage to join him one day and living in denial in the meantime. What the fuck was all of this?
"I couldn't tell you," he keeps saying. "It was better if you knew nothing until I was sure I could come get you."
"Why didn't you just take me with you from the start?" I ask. I've been pacing the floor for the past twenty minutes ever since he showed up. It was better than throwing every breakable object in the cheap, worn down shack of a house at him, which was my second instinct. My first was to pull him into my arms, draw the curtains shut and hide him away so that he'll never leave again. Like an idiot.
He laughs bitterly. "You would not be asking that if you knew what the fuck I went through," he says. His words sound like they should be angry, but there's this lightness to them like he can't let himself think too much about it. It just makes me angrier.
"Don't fucking laugh!" I snap. "Do you think any of this is funny?"
"I think you're funny when you're mad," he deflects, smiling. "You got this whole routine. Pacing, nose twitching. I like the Shirley Temple stomps, like you're a kid."
I groan loudly, the noise almost sounding like a low scream in my throat.
"You owed money to fucking- who?" I yell.
"The details don't matter-"
"When I have been grieving your death for nine months, they fucking matter!" I snap. His brows furrow, his hands mid air as if to say 'the fuck did I do?'
"You know me, okay? I don't get caught," he says as though it were obvious.
"I know fucking nothing!" I practically scream.
When we met he was just a guy at a bar, handsome, wearing that same ridiculous jacket that I couldn't help but stroke the white fluff on, tequila running through my veins.
"Can I help you?" He asked, smirking.
"Just wanted to see what it felt like," I said.
"Wanna feel something else?" He asked, his chin resting on his head.
"Oh, fucking gross. Fuck o-"
"I was talking about this," he said, whipping out his keys to show off an odd, weirdly shaped keychain with short, stiff fuzz. "Don't call me a pervert just cause you're one."
He was smiling. It was an easy smile. Careless, happy with life. I loved that smile. It meant things were always alright as long as he was smiling.
He was smiling on the photo they used for the manhunt.
We'd danced the whole night. He didn't know hardly any of the songs, causing him to be off beat. I was too drunk to keep time, so I stepped on his leather boots enough times there was a visible scuff on the top of one by the end of the night. I always felt bad, offering to replace or help pay to fix it. He wouldn't let me.
"They're a keepsake," he'd insist. "A living memory." He wore them everyday.
He's wearing sneakers, today.
At the end of the night, I stumbled out of the bar with a note in my coat pocket. It took two weeks for me to wear that coat again, and when I found the slip I'd almost thrown it away, assuming it was something dumb. But when I saw the worst handwriting in the world displaying a number belonging to someone named 'Keychain Guy,' I almost couldn't wait to call.
"Bullshit," Billy snaps. "You know me better than anyone."
"Don't say that," I say, putting a hand out protectively to keep him away. "That's exactly why everyone thinks I was just fine with that whole- fucked up thing!"
A gas station burned. A stolen vehicle. People were dead. People were dead.
Billy was presumed dead.
There was no funeral. He had no family, and none of mine wanted to put money into something that would be protested by the whole town anyways. No body to bury, nothing to do but gather up his things and smoke what remained in his stash until people came to nurse me back to life. By that point there wasn't even relief in drugs. The taste simply reminded me of better times cooking in the kitchen as we blew the smoke into each others faces, or worse. Better. Whatever.
I never questioned when Billy went out of town. I knew his work had details I didn't want nor need to know. Money was tight. But Billy always came home with little things whenever he went on unexpected trips. Knick knacks, snacks, some item I'd seen at the store and picked up to make a comment about. Had he been particularly forthcoming about his dealing when we started dating? No. He said he worked for a local small business, which technically isn't untrue. But about six months in, he was the one who approached me and sat me down at the small, rickty round table to tell me the truth. And that's what mattered to me. The economy is shit and it's not like it was meth, so who am I to judge?
About a year into it, I was begging for him to do something else.
"I don't like you disappearing," I told him. "I'm scared one day you're gonna piss someone off and that'll be the end. Then what am I gonna do?"
"Then you're gonna make sure they don't fuck up my face during the embalming process for the funeral," Billy said around his hand rolled cigarette. I whip the small dish towel at him, making him laugh and protect his small ashtray that I made him for Christmas the year prior. It was shitty, uneven, and I'm 99% sure a fire hazard. But he wouldn't use any other ones unless I was the one who bought them for him, and even then he favored this one. 'When this place goes up in flames,' I thought, 'I'll regret that gift.'
I'd kept it by the kitchen window every day since he'd died. "Died." It was his spot.
He moves to sit there now, looking in his pockets for the small box of prerolled cigarettes.
"People know you weren't involved," he says dismissively.
"Your friends know. What about the old ladies at church? The checkout clerks at the store? How about the fucking mailman?" I shout, convinced I'm still talking to the dead. "You think they know the ins and outs of the local psychos support group?" I ask, gesturing and stepping closer.
I was the local outcast now. Not to be trusted, not worth kindness. Shame was my title, and when Billy appeared on my doorstep at an hour where only I was awake I was sure I'd caught the same awful disease that must have been what sent him spiraling that winter day. It wasn't until he pushed the door open fully, taking me into his arms and pressing a warm kiss to my lips that I knew he was real. It was a feeling I was in the early stages of forgetting, blurry and cold. But here he was, the stubble on his chin a bit longer and his ears missing the small hoops that had glittered in the sunlight when he walked out the door.
Then I'd pushed him away. And the fight began.
"I'm not a fucking psycho," he argues. His hands pat around his outfit, searching. "You got a lighter?"
"Fuck off." I kept his favorite in my left pocket. I had to be careful what things of his I wore or kept on my person. People close to me knew I would have never condoned his actions, but even they had glared at me in the early wake of Billy's death when I dared to wear one of his shirts out of the house, or more commonly one of his thick leather jackets. But a lighter can be hidden, and unless you had borrowed it you wouldn't know it had specifically been his. So I kept it with me all the time, just feeling it next to my skin with the only barrier being the fabric of my pocket. Without a thought, I cover the small item as though he can see right through me. Picking up on the hint, he's rises from the table and begins walking over to me.
"Don't be a dick, just let me borrow it," he says, holding out his hand.
"Fuck off," I snap.
"You've said that. I just need it for two seconds," he says as his hands begin to gently grab at me, one on my shoulder and the other dipping into my pocket.
"Get the fuck off of me!" I yell, slapping at him.
"Just let me have-"
He cuts himself off as he pulls out the lighter from my pocket, his thumb grazing over the printed picture. The Statue of David. He'd bought because it made us laugh. One side was the regular statue, the other a close up of its small genitals with cursive writing underneath spelling the art piece's name.
"Oh," Billy says quietly.
We stand for a moment, silent. He doesn't seem sure what to do. My lungs burn with unheaved sobs. I fucking hate this.
"You were gonna come back," I finally say quietly. I hate how my voice sounds when I'm upset. I hate that I'm wearing his dogtag, an item he'd bought at a World War II museum in middle school that he gave me for our first Christmas because we were both too broke to actually buy each other anything, hence the poorly made ashtray. I hate that when I sleep at night it's in his clothes that I rarely wash because the idea of losing his smell makes me want to scream. I hate that his scent is different from the bottle of cologne he kept next to my makeup, one time spilling all over the entire bathroom counter because we'd gotten too wrapped up in each other, dragging our nails down each others backs and watching ourselves in the mirror until one wrong move of my hand revealed he'd been a bit too careless about screwing the lid back on earlier in the day. I'd always warned him about that.
I'd been in the bathroom putting on my permanently scented blush when I got the text.
"I was going to," he said softly. "Then I couldn't."
"So what?" I say, not daring to turn and face him, choosing instead to stare at where the cheap, old wood paneling of the wall meets the shaggy, stained carpet that you have to wear shoes on due to the staples that have begun sticking out of it. "You just propose to someone and then pretend to die?"
Valentines Day was an awfully cheesy day to do it. So it's a good thing it was a technicality.
The day had been lovely. Billy had saved up a little to take me to a local hibachi place, telling me to wear my best outfit and jewelry. It was slightly overkill, but it's the small things in life, isn't it?
We'd come home with a bottle of wine, a low budget movie to ignore and hands searching desperately for each other.
"I love you," he'd said between pants. "You're mine."
"Buy a ring," I'd dared. Our minds were buzzed, the bottle half empty and our clothes thrown away without care. Took me weeks to find his both of his socks.
I hadn't meant for him to take it seriously. But I guess he decided it was time.
Two days later I thought it was odd when he walked into the house with my favorite lunch. It wasn't expensive really, we just usually got it for special occasions or days that had been mentally harder for me. And things were normal that day. I was getting ready for my shift, running around like I always do trying to make sure I've got everything.
"Your coffee's in the cup, will you just sit down?" He laughed, watching me. I quickly collected the take out box, sipping my coffee and wincing over its temperature.
"Fuck, that burns," I cursed. He wrapped his arms around me, trying to get me to sit at the table. "Baby, I can't," I protested softly, but I was laughing. He was peppering me in kisses, giving me those big puppy dog eyes everyone knew were my weakness. He wanted for nothing so long as he looked at me just like that.
"Just this once," he asked, pressing a kiss to my cheek. I couldn't help the blush and giggle that rose from me, but I also couldn't be late.
"I'll make up for it," I promised, slipping away and running into the bedroom to get my shoes. When I ran back in, pulling them on and coming to kiss him goodbye, I nearly fell over when I saw him on one knee, smiling and looking at me like 'I told you so.'
I don't like how itchy the ring feels on my middle finger as I twirl it in thought.
"You don't know what happened," he pleaded, his hands still on me. "If you would just listen to me-"
"The news gave a pretty good description, William. I don't think there's missing pieces in my head, unlike you," I say coldly, detaching from myself so to not have to deal with my emotions. This makes him stiffen, pulling away and resuming his place at the kitchen table, lighting his cigarette and placing the ashtray in front of him like nothing has changed when everything has.
It feels like I'm out of time. Like I've been shoved into a picture of what my life looked like before. Except the house was never this clean, clothes always scattered about. Not just in a fit of passion, we just had bad habits when it came to picking up. Billy would always say the chairs are more decorations then they are seats, anyways. "Why would you use those when you have such a nice seat here?" He'd ask, wiggling his hips and placing his hands behind his head, making me laugh.
Billy never looked so well put together in the house, usually in a wife beater and his hair framing his face. He'd always joked he looked like a dirty hippie around me, and I'd always show him how much I liked that. Not that he looked fantastic now. When we went out he was known for putting in effort. He always had more hair products than me, which I found funny. Though he refused makeup. Once I'd managed to talk him into eyeliner. 'Guyliner' I'd teased. He liked it, but said it should stay between us with a wink before asking where to get dinner. Now he sits before me in clothes obviously stolen to help him look unremarkable, his hair shaggy and uncut, so different from the man I loved.
"Who are you?" I asked him. That man didn't shrink away from accountability.
He sighed, smoke swirling around him as he wipes his face with his hand.
"I don't know. Can't tell if I'm better or worse, to be honest," he admits softly. His eyes look haunted, heavy bags underneath. It's the way his shoulders sag as though his will to go on is slowly draining from him in this very moment that makes me want to break now. Like whatever reason he had for still going was fruitless.
I didn't like the way we mirrored each other like this.
I slowly scuff my feet towards him, tapping my fingers against the back of the wooden chair before pulling it out to sit across from him. It's a start.
"So if you tell me," I say slowly. "Am I going to wish you were dead?"
He doesn't look at me. "I don't know."
Great.
The night is long. Morning comes without an invitation, the blue sky beginning to glow through the shitty blinders I always told Billy we should replace one day. I understand less than when we started, we've both cried more than once, and between our fingers is cigarette stubs and the feeling of each others skin, hands laced together as though another click of an old remote to an outdated TV with batteries you had to rub against your shirt to make work would reveal the smouldering remains of a gas station, displaying the estimated body count and deeming one of us as a devil of the worst kind, ripping us apart.
"Jesus," I say when it's over.
"Yeah," he says. "So, needless to say, my anxiety is shit now."
It isn't funny. It's a tragic statement. But when we both glance into the others eyes, it's his small little smirk that makes me laugh like I haven't since my mother sent me the local news report with his picture covering the front page. The same one that shows everything is still okay.
"I'm sorry," I say. Then the laughing turns into sobbing, and then I can't breathe. And I really am sorry.
I'm sorry I couldn't help him. I'm sorry he went out on a romantic whim and borrowed money he shouldn't have for the ring I was too ashamed to wear on the proper finger. I'm sorry he couldn't come back for me. And I'm sorry for hating him when he showed up unannounced at my door.
"Hey," he says gently, standing and crossing to me, removing his jacket and wrapping it around my shoulders to comfort me. It's unfamiliar, evidence of a life he wouldn't have led if he had just stayed by me and it upsets me, but his lips against my wet cheeks ground me, familiar and soothing me, coaxing me into wrapping my arms around him, clawing my trembling fingers through his hair. Still soft. Still combed.
"You can't stay here," I choke out.
"I know," he says quietly. There's nothing for a long time, our bodies shaking as we cling to each other. In our arms are the unspoken months of grief. Of his longing for our home, of my insanity. Death looms over the furniture, light hidden away lest it take away my sacred treasures I'd used to keep his spirit close to me.
"I can't lose you again," I say.
"I know," he says, smelling my hair and placing a soft kiss on top of my head. "But I can't promise stability if you follow me."
My brows furrow, my mind racing in confusion, my hopes rising. Follow?
"I know a guy," he says quickly, his arms tighter as if scared I'll turn away. "Says he can get me a new identity and a one way ticket to somewhere. I don't know where yet, but it's worth a try."
My fingers trace his back, swirling invisible patterns over his shirt. He'd always liked that after a rough day. I can feel the tension begin to slowly fall away from him at the contact, his breathing growing deeper and more steady. "And you want me to come?"
"Need," he corrects. "I don't regret leaving you, but I can't stay away. Even if it's more kind to let you mourn and find a better life."
A new life. A new identity. New name, new everything.
Maybe I am insane. Maybe this exactly the kind of mental break Billy had that day. Maybe I was doomed to follow his spirit no matter what. Maybe this is a second chance. Maybe God had granted me a mercy I'll never be able to repay, no matter how many night I spend in worship at a church or between this man's legs. Maybe I'd spend every day looking over my shoulder, paranoid and eventually turning cruel to strangers so to keep this one person everyone told me to let go of from the very beginning.
But the same Billy.
"Can he do a marriage license?" I ask after a long silence. I can hear him laugh, pulling away to look at me.
"That eager?" He asks softly, his eyes gentle, thumb stroking my cheek. I lean into his touch, softly placing a kiss on his palm.
▪︎》◇《▪︎
"Well," I say, "I already have the ring."
Masterlist
As cute as this was, please have better standards than the Reader I wrote in this fic. No man is worth that. I am DEADASS. Anyways, love y'all <3
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hina-hina · 1 year
Note
Hello!! Can i request ghost and Soap,Alejandro with a gen z s/o lol
Hello friend!! This request was really funny, I hope I encapsulated Gen Z well here! Thank you for requesting, I hope you enjoy!!
This fanfiction is not meant to depict minors, only those 18 years of age or older. This fic is also more of a generalization of gen z persons.
I struggled a bit with this one, I hope you all still enjoy! (o゜▽゜)o☆
Edit: I forgot Ghost when I posted this, So sorry about that!! I've been a bit scattered since school started but I will get around to fixing it!!
→ COD Masterlist
|| Soap + Alejandro With a Gen Z S/O ||
Tags: GenZ!Reader, Fluff, Established Relationships, Crack
Warnings: None
Gender-Neutral!Reader // Romantic
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|| Soap
Soap is more of a joking person himself so he falls right into the joking way you have of talking
He 100% secretly likes early 200s pop music that you play, but he would never admit it
He laughs every time you send him reaction images, even if he doesn't really get them
He will take the ones you send him and use them on the other 141 members
They don't understand it at all but he is still amused nonetheless
Despite Soap being on the younger side, he doesn't spend a lot of time on social media so he doesn't really understand most of the references you make
However once he does he will terrorize the other 141 members with them as well
Price insists that the two of you should be separated for his own sanity
Whenever the two of you are together, you insist that he has to make Tik Toks with you
He complains but he does it with you anyway and likes dragging the others into it
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|| Alejandro
While Soap was closer in age to being Gen z, I imagine Alejandro would be older
He thinks the memes you send him are cute, even if he doesn't get it
You often send him those unhinged memes in Spanish and ask him to translate them
He is baffled almost every time
I personally can see Alejandro as being a good dancer who gets offended by some of the sloppier TikTok dance trends
If he sees you watching one, he will pull you up and be like "Let me show you how to really dance"
The whole time neither of you can stop smiling
Gets confused by reaction images
Not big on social media but he does have an account because he has to let it be known that you are taken on your posts
The type to respond to everyone that tries to hit on you in the comments to the point you threaten to block him
Also likes to answer dms sent to you himself so that he can put the fear of god into them
But also respects you and would never ask you not to post pictures of yourself on social media
Thank you for reading!! ⇣Taglist⇣ @scarlettproof @unabashednightmarepizza @kk00789 @cl0udii-m00n @polar2oidsworld @meepsters-world @uwu-i-purple-you
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kitsune-oji · 8 months
Note
I was hoping if you'd write a version of "There's No Guarantee You will be Different" for Mammon?
There's No Guarantee You will be Different
Mc who has been hurt a lot in the past (betrayed, lied to, used) even by those that promised otherwise and were nice at first and struggles to trust others because of it. Not understanding why someone would actually like/love them or not believing them, being scared of getting hurt again and again like in the past.
With pleasure!! I had hoped you'd request this with Mammon actually, hehe 💙
Characters: Mammon
Other: Barbatos+Beel
-> feel free to request this with other obey me characters too
Gn! Mc (you/yours)
Warnings/tags: hurt/comfort-y
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"You keep saying you love me, you keep promising that you will never leave, that you'll never hurt me... How do you know that? There's no guarantee. In the past, I've trusted those who told me all that and in the end, they ended up breaking all their promises anyway. Please, don't promise me things you can't keep. Even if you think you can keep them now, you don't know how it will be in the future. Maybe you'll get sick of me too, just like everyone else. I love you too but... I'm just scared. I'm sorry."
Mammon
"Wha- no no, I... Ya really think I would hurt you? Nah, then you wouldna have told me this... There's no guarantee you say? Well, I'll prove it then. Just ya wait and see, I won't ever stop loving you and I'll make sure ya feel it too. So don't go chickening out, ya got it?"
Mammon is the type of guy to see this as a challenge but it works out well that way
You worry that he'll get sick of you? He's gonna stay by your side and cling to you until YOU get sick of HIM, just you wait!!
He can't see himself ever stop loving you. After all, he's never been so smitten with someone before and you're so amazing that even his brothers all want your attention. How can you not see that? It makes his head hurt trying to think about that
Whenever Mammon gets paid or wins a lottery or has a good day at the casino (for once), you know he's going to want to treat you. Be it gifts or going out to eat together, nothing is too expensive to him when it comes to you
When he's as broke as always though, you can expect him to try and do the same just differently. Like making you his famous peanut butter sandwich or trying to craft something cute or planning a date night full of watching your favorite movies/series or bringing out to show you something really pretty (like a secret place looking out to the sea where you can see the night sky twinkling with stars and reflecting on the water)
Mammon is your guardian demon, everyone already knows that. Now he wants to make sure You know everything he does for you though. Where he is usually too embarrassed to admit it, he tries to make it as obvious as possible
No more standing behind you and taking care of things when you're not there anymore. Mammon steps in right away, proudly declaring that anyone who messes with HIS human is gonna get it
Holding you close to him, holding your hand or kissing you where you're comfy while others are watching is sort of strange to him at first but he wants to show you that he's not embarrassed by you, that he's instead proud and wants everyone to know he landed with such an amazing person like you
Everytime you need some comfort, Mammon is right there. He'd usually joke about having you pay for his services to play over how flustered he is but after your talk, he doesn't want you to think he Actually thinks it's a chore to comfort you. Because it's not and he is glad you come to him when you're feeling bad so even if he struggles saying so outright, Mammon won't try to make it seem otherwise anymore
Basically, Mammon tries to be more honest with his feelings for you instead of deflecting out of fear he'd get hurt. It's hard but he's making a genuine effort and it shows
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allysafantasy · 3 months
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One of Lady Sneasler's kittens decided to say hi to the scared Zorua. Gem, the Sneasel, is happy to see a new friend. Out of the three Sneasels, Gem is gentle in how he interacts with Zorua. Although Zorua is still scared of Gem, it's a good thing that he didn't run away.
Ingo is happy that Zorua can at least interact with one of the poisonous kittens. Meanwhile, it seems like Emmet's Zorua is causing trouble.
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Emmet has to deal with the shenanigans of his Zorua for a few months after taking it in seven years ago. Ingo has been missing for 8 years. This has made Emmet depressed, and he tries his best not to dwell on it. Since the first year of Ingo's disappearance, Emmet has been trying to keep their apartment clean to distract himself. He'd rather avoid facing the reality of Ingo's absence, although he knows it's just avoiding the truth. He values truth but in this case this truth, he thinks it's false. He doesn't want to be as idealistic as Ingo, but sometimes he wishes for a miracle to bring Ingo back or at least provide a reason for his disappearance. Then he met Zorua, which, although Emmet does not like the shenanigans that Zorua gets up to, it unintentionally made him feel a bit better which is what Zorua wanted. After meeting Emmet, Zorua just wants to make Emmet happy, even if making small mischief is enough to at least make him not think about bad stuff. Zorua has a simple, idealistic goal: to make everyone happy and distract them from negative thoughts.
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Anyway, I had fun making this art. Though, the Emmet art just makes me not wanna want to draw background characters but I remembered I made Pokemon Designs for my ocs so I made them into background characters. So, Lets just say they just wanna visit Unova or something. Also this is the first time of me trying to make a comic. I don't know how to comic so I don't mind any criticism. (especially with grammar pls help) Anyway, I've been working on this animation. If you have heard the song and poses uh. yeah I'm just showing the frames of it.
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Edit: I finally have a name for this AU and its in the tag
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indestructibleheart · 2 months
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Hi, fam! Okay, so I'm going to be out at an appointment tomorrow morning, so I'm kicking this off a little bit early. It's technically Wednesday in several timezones and very nearly Wednesday in mine. I'm... also a bit eager to share this, ngl.
I know that I've shared a lot of angst lately, but I swear that's not all I'm doing. 😅 In fact, the actor/playwright AU decided to wallop me in the face out of nowhere after sitting in my WIP folder for months. I'm really excited about it, so I'm gonna share the first scene!
(Also, those of you who have been to New York with me will recognize my favorite brunch spot in this scene lmao.)
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You probably didn't even know I was in the room, but I noticed you straight away. You were talking with your friends, happy and animated and fully alive—a person living in dimensions I couldn’t access—and so beautiful. Your hair was longer then. You were the center of attention, but you weren’t afraid. You had a yellow ipê-amarelo in your pocket. I thought, this is the most incredible thing I have ever seen; I'd better keep it a safe distance away from me. I thought, if someone like that ever loved me, it would set me on fire.
INT. MOM'S KITCHEN & BAR - HELL'S KITCHEN - LATE MORNING
"I'm telling y'all," Alex is saying, punctuating with dangerously large bites of his pancake burrito. "The dude's a dick." 
It's been two hours since the nightmare audition, but Alex has been on this tirade since June and Nora first slid into the retro diner chairs across from him (at least forty-five minutes ago).
They're at Mom's: a restaurant-bar in midtown that can only be described as millennial nostalgia incarnate. The trio fell in love with it two years back—post-karaoke, stumbling in right before closing—when Alex saw God in their Fruity Pebble pancakes.  Since then, it's been his favorite place to eat his feelings.
Mom's is just really fucking comforting in general, honestly; whether it's the televisions cycling through episodes of 'Rugrats,' 'Dexter's Laboratory,' and 'Hey, Arnold!' or  the rainbow straws and Lisa-Frank-looking menus, Alex can't be sure. It doesn't hurt that they've made friends with several of the waitstaff, including an eccentric bartender, Pez, whose pink hair and painted nails fit right in with the decor. 
Today, it's the combination of breakfast sausage, bacon, eggs and cheese wrapped up in a syrup-soaked pancake that's really doing something for him. It could also be the margarita the size of his face, which Pez placed in front of him before making himself uncharacteristically scarce. But it's fine. He's probably just busy.
Alex won't admit it out loud, but what really helps is having June and Nora here to talk to… even though Nora is scrolling on her phone.
"I'm sorry," June says. She pokes an ice cube with her straw, and Alex watches as it bobs around her mimosa like a buoy. "That sounds like it sucked, but if he's really that rude… maybe you didn't want to work with him anyway."
Nora doesn't look up as she pops a home fry into her mouth. 
"Several sources say he's difficult to work with," she adds, evidently reading about Henry on the internet. "Though, in his defense, his dad did just die, like, three years ago… and there was that whole thing when he came out after. Remember?"
Alex does remember. Henry's grandmother, Mary Mountchristen, runs a pretty major company that used to own half the theatres on the West End. When Henry came out last year, she tried blacklisting his shows from her properties to punish him—which totally backfired when it got around. At least a dozen other queer writers and producers started talking about how they were also denied the space, and Mary was stoned on the streets of the theatre district. Like, metaphorically. 
Alex, Nora, and June had just moved to New York, but between June's position at Newsday and both Alex and Nora on the audition circuit, it was all anyone in their new circles could talk about. They were some of the first to know when the Mountchristens were bought out of their properties and Henry moved to the States.
This show is the first of Henry's being produced here—and it's autobiographical, which Alex has to admit is pretty fucking baller. So, yeah, Nora's not wrong. He has reason to be standoffish. Still, it doesn't explain why Alex was only halfway through his audition monologue when Henry abruptly stood up and exited stage left as if pursued by a bear.
He shoves another forkful into his mouth. "It's just, like, they're the only people who let me into the room," he says, barely finishing chewing. "Nobody wants to take me seriously, and I really thought this was my shot, you know?"
June and Nora both know Alex is having a hard time landing serious roles after growing up on a sitcom—Nora more than most, as his former co-star. What they don't know is that losing this role, specifically, feels like a kick to the stomach. From the moment Alex saw the script, he wanted to be a part of it. He can't even explain why, and now he'll never figure it out. Henry wouldn't give him a chance.
"It wasn't your only shot, and you know it." Nora fixes him with a look. "Seriously, I get it—I do—but it's just one play, buddy."
June nods. "Something will happen for you, baby brother."
At that, Alex finally groans. "Okay, calling me baby brother doesn't help me feel better about the entertainment industry infantili—"
"—itty bitty, teeny weeny—"
Alex throws a home fry at her face. 
It bounces off her forehead and into the giant gauntlet holding her mimosa with a very unappetizing splash. Just as Alex throws his hands into the air with a victorious whoop, his phone buzzes on the table. 
A glance is all it takes for him to see that it's his agent, Zahra.
"Damn," he says, deflating. There goes that upswing. "You answer it."
June balks. "Me?"
"I don't need to hear how fucking badly it went. Trust me, I got the message." Alex blinks innocently, like he's six years old again, asking her to lie to their mom about that broken vase. "Please, Bug? Besides, Zahra actually likes you."
"Everyone likes me." June rolls her eyes, but she caves—answering the phone with a haughty, "Alex Claremont-Diaz's office," before breaking into a smile. "Yeah, Z. It's me… No, Alex is feeling a little sensitive today."
(He throws another home fry at her. This one misses.)
To her credit, June's face remains totally blank as Zahra no doubt tells her how Alex insulted Henry Fox's name and all of his inbred ancestors just by showing up, or whatever—which is extremely annoying and unhelpful—but, once she says goodbye and sets the phone back down on the table, her face breaks out into a grin.
"Guess you didn't suck too bad," she says. "They want you for the part."
He doesn't know if it's Nora throwing herself at him or the shock that knocks him onto the floor.
Tagging some lovelies. If you haven't been tagged and you want to be, consider this your tag!
@anchoredarchangel, @barbiediaz, @cha-melodius, @cricketnationrise, @guillermosfamiliar, @hgejfmw-hgejhsf, @hippolotamus, @inexplicablymine, @jettestar, @junebugclaremontdiaz, @kiwiana-writes, @lizzie-bennetdarcy, @missgeevious, @mulderscully, @myheartalivewrites, @ninzied, @nontoxic-writes, @notspecialbabe, @priincebutt, @rmd-writes, @rosedavid, @three-drink-amy, @treluna4, @vanillahigh00, @welcometololaland, @orchidscript, @ships-to-sail, @stereopticons
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draco-dormiens · 4 months
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THE STRANGEST OF PLACES - Chapter Twenty One
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draco x fem!ravenclaw reader / postwar au series
an: happy new year guys ♡ your kindness and patience has been very much appreciated. i hope your holidays have been wonderful, if you have celebrated :)
warnings: possible strong language, angst, unrequited love, alcohol use (characters are 18+)
wc: 4194
masterlist
taglist is now closed - i’ve officially run out of tags! thank you all
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The Greengrasses Come to Tea
Days pass by rather quickly when you're miserable as sin and dreading a certain something.
Another letter from Narcissa arrived the day before the dinner was planned to go ahead. In her letter she had explained, in thorough detail, exactly how she expects the evening to go, exactly how she expects Draco to behave, and exactly when to get down on one knee.
It was so calculated Draco felt like he was reading an instruction booklet.
Nothing much had changed, apart from the fact Granger's visit did nothing but play reruns in his mind. He was pretty certain you had no idea she'd come down to see him, otherwise she wouldn't have been there. The information she gave to him had scenarios playing out in his head. What would happen if he did show up? Would you be happy? Mad? Would you kiss him, slap him, or just tell him to get the hell away from you? He likes to think you'd run into his arms, but after how foul he was, he wouldn't blame you for breaking a piece of your mind. It's not too late, Granger said.
Can he really fix this mess? Would you really love him despite his cowardice, despite him making all the wrong decisions and leaving you no choice but to turn away. Could you find it in you to forgive him?
Over the last few weeks, as you've been avoiding each other like the plague, he's come to see that he never even tried to fight for you. Never once did he prepare himself to stand up to his parents. That's not to say he hadn't thought of it, because he most certainly had, but the bravery he would need escaped him. No wonder you're finished with him, he'd once again allowed himself to be pushed along the road by someone else. You were far too good for someone like him anyway, he tells himself. Someone else out there will have the guts he doesn't possess, and fight for you, just how he should have done. With only a day left until he was made to give his life away, Draco's patience was running very thin, and even someone being within his proximity irritated him, but Astoria seemed to be oblivious to this and invaded his space regardless. He held his tongue, because he's about to spend every waking moment with the girl, but in his mind he was thinking of several ways he could disappear without anyone knowing.
"Beautiful afternoon," Astoria sighs, once again trying to brush her hand against his as they walked along the edge of the lake, "don't you think, Draco?"
He retracts his hand into his pocket. Astoria was a fan of walks, and since the engagement was settled to happen, and you were out of the picture, she'd been asking him to join her most days. Draco, feeling like, somehow, his mother was watching his every move, agreed, but hated every second of being away from his dorm room. From the corner of his eye, he could see her growing impatient with his inability to reciprocate her efforts.
"It's nice," he mutters, "always liked the lake."
"As I've heard," she smiles across at him, "didn't you befriend the giant squid in your younger years?"
Draco chuckles lightly.
"The squid is harmless, and actually enjoys the company of many students," he explains, "I'm not special, I'm afraid."
"I think you are," she compliments, and he can't help but feel a little nauseous. It's so wrong that this girls feelings are being wasted on him, "even if the squid doesn't."
Draco only smiles thinly.
"Thanks," he answers quickly. He feels her getting closer, her arm brushing his. He knows he must show some sort of willingness if this was to work, so he gestures for her to loop her arm around his. She does so in a heartbeat, and leans into him.
"So," she begins, sounding a little cautious, "you and your friend are still not speaking?"
Once the incident in the woods happened, Draco returned to the Slytherin common room looking worse than ever. His hair was a mess, his face was pale and his eyes puffy. Astoria, because why would anything be in his favour, happened to be reading in the common room when he entered looking like that. She rushed to him, of course, fussed about how upset he looked and sat him down, rubbing his arm. Draco felt so numb he didn't even feel her presence beside him, or really hear what she was saying. That's when he mumbled, staring into the fire;
"It's over. We're done."
Astoria knew in that moment, within a day, you had held your end of the bargain. It was perhaps cruel, but she felt a weight lift off her shoulders. He never questioned her about approaching you, he simply didn't have the energy for an argument. You knew, and you'd made your decision. Maybe, in some sick way, it was a blessing he didn't have to be the one to do it. He wasn't sure he could.
Draco refuses to speak about you, and Astoria knows this, but asks, in a roundabout way, if he's been reckless and gone back to you. Each time she asks, he feels his heart snap all over again, and forces out an answer that pleases his future wife.
"No," he answers shortly, and Astoria says no more on the matter. She only nods.
"Have you thought about what you might do after school?" she changes the subject as they stop at the water's edge. Gentle, little waves roll up the shore and crash by their feet, "I'm sure your exam results will be good."
"Hopefully," he says, his voice as empty as always, "the Ministry, maybe. Or something in medicine. Haven't decided yet."
"You'll be great, no matter what you do," she said, looking up at him with longing eyes. He looks back at her, another guilty feeling taking over him, "you're wonderful, Draco."
From the way she's looking at him, he knows what the girl is asking. It's not the first time she's looked at him that way, either. She wants him to kiss her. To show her that this decision is the right one, and that she's worthy. God, he feels like a criminal. He moves his head to look over the water, but Astoria's hand brings his gaze back to her. The look in her face tells him her patience is running rather thin, too.
"Draco," she whispers to him, fingers tracing his jaw. The only touch he can feel is yours, "you know we have to at some point, right? And tomorrow, they'll expect it."
He feels like he's being unfaithful. Her eyes are screaming it, asking him to lean in and take her as his wife. To accept her. Draco feels lightheaded, like he might pass out at any minute, when she's gently pulling him down to her level. Her lips almost brush his when Draco puts his hand on her wrist lightly, stopping all her movements.
"I can't," he whispers hoarsely, and Astoria's face drops, "I'm sorry, 'Storia. I can't kiss you."
"Because of her," Astoria mutters almost bitterly.
This was affecting her, too. He knew that, and just how unfair his behaviour must seem to her.
"I can't help it," he takes in a shaky breath, "I'm still... I'm not over it yet. I understand it's not what you want to hear, and I'm deeply sorry for that. I just... I- I need time."
She nods, and remains close, but she doesn't pressure him anymore. He can see, that even she is doubting his ability to see this through. He tries to move away, but she holds on to him. She needs someone right now, so they stay like that for a while. It was the least he could do for her, offer some comfort, so he rubs her back soothingly and she leans into him. From the corner of his eye, he sees two figures approaching them from a far. He focuses his eyes to see who it was, and his heart drops to the very pit of his stomach.
It's Granger, and you.
Astoria rests her head against his chest, unaware of their company. All he can do is stare back at you, and Granger tugs the arm of your sweater. Without taking your eyes from his, the two of you double back, and walk in the opposite direction. Once you've processed the image before you, you're turning away, rushing before Granger as she picks up pace to walk beside you. If he was feeling any kind of guilt, he was feeling worse than ever now.
"On the one day I convince you to actually come outside," Hermione huffs and puffs as she tries to keep up with your incredibly quick pace, "I can't believe it. I really can't."
"It's fine," you mumble miserably, quickening your pace to get as far away as possible, "this is mostly my doing, anyway."
"There you go again, blaming yourself," Hermione pants, "he's no saint in this, you know. He's just as responsible."
"That somehow doesn't help," you said, now marching back towards the castle, "this feeling... it doesn't make it go away. Ever. The guilt."
"After this weekend, you'll never have to see them again," said Hermione, desperately trying to keep up with you, "and I know that sounds awful, but being away from him, from this school, and the ever growing fear of running into them, might be what you need."
You stop at the edge of the school grounds, Hermione coming to a halt behind you. Hogwarts looked gloomy, even under the midsummer sun. Even in the hazy afternoon sunshine, in the warm and sweet air, it seemed miserable. Graduation was approaching quick and fast. Families and guests of the school will be arriving over the next couple of days, readying for a day of celebration when Saturday rolls around. There was nothing more sickening than that thought right now. Your mother had owled over freshly pressed robes and presents from family members. Flowers, cards, chocolates. Happy little messages and congratulations.
Shame you can't seem to enjoy such a pivotal time.
"Someone up there hates me," you mumble, and Hermione's hand rests against your shoulder.
"Well, someone down here doesn't," she says kindly, and you turn to face her, etching a smile across your solemn face, "and no one at the dinner tomorrow does. In fact, Ron owled me to say how excited he was to see you. I'm sure it's the same for everyone else, too. You're not alone, Y/N. There are so many people who wish you happiness."
"Thanks, 'Mione," you mutter softly, and then look back up at the towering heights of the castle as Hermione starts to walk ahead of you. A gentle breeze ruffles your hair, as two birds soar across the sky to disappear behind a tower. You take a deep breath, and exhale slowly, before whispering to yourself, "in another life, Draco. In another life."
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The day breaks into blistering sunshine and clear blue skies. Friday morning greeted the grounds of Malfoy manor with the sound of whistling birds and fresh, crisp air. The flowers were in bloom; brilliant shades of red, pink and yellow. Rather a contrast to the glooming building in the distance. Watering cans, seemingly moving by themselves, sprinkled water over the petals and the neatly trimmed shrubbery as they danced across the gardens. The dark and dreary exterior of his childhood home looked evermore depressing as Draco stood just beyond the gates, gathering the will to enter the front door. Just inside, no doubt, his mother was ordering the house elf to fold napkins and polish cutlery. His father, he presumes, would be tucked away in his study, out of the way and minding his own business. He expects his mother has arranged more house elves to prepare the dining room for what some might say is a wondrous occasion.
Her son was getting engaged, after all. To the woman she had desired, no less.
Draco drags himself to the front door, and with a small flick of his hand, the large piece of oak begins to scrape along the tiled floor, revealing the foyer. His mother had freshly picked flowers decorating the entryway and lined along the corridors. The giant windows cast gorgeous rays of gold into the dark hallways, specs of dust floating in the light as he made his way towards his room. He could at least get a little bit of time alone before the dreaded dinner.
Or, at least, he thought he could.
"Draco," he hears his mother's voice call from the other end of the hallway, hand clasped around the handle of his bedroom door, "I had no idea you were here," Narcissa said as she crosses the space between them, "Why are you hiding in there? Are you feeling well?"
She presses her palm to his forehead, looks at his throat as she instructs him to say ah, darling, and feels under his jaw. With a perplexed look, she huffs, holding his face in her hands.
"Do you need to lay down? You look pale, sweetheart. Is everything alright? Is it nerves?"
Her eyes were kind. When his mother showed her true affection for him, it was oddly warming. Draco knew his mother loved him - that's why he was feeling this pain. That's why she was breaking her back to make sure he became a respectable pureblood, because she knew how it felt to be shunned and whispered about in the street. She knew how it felt to have the world watching as your reputation crashed and burned in a courtroom full of judgmental faces. More than anything, did she want him to avoid that. The less pain he had the better, and yet, because of her divine protection, Draco had never felt so much pain in his life.
"I just need to rest before tonight," he smiles thinly, "please, don't worry yourself."
Narcissa doesn't stop him from turning the handle and disappearing behind the dark wood door. His room came into view; green satin sheets neatly made up on his bed, fresh towels folded at the end and his suit for the evening freshly pressed and hanging from his wardrobe. His belongings were exactly where he had left them; papers on his desk, half read book on the bedside table and his curtains shut. Draco pulls back the long, heavy material from his bedroom window to look down at the grounds below. Glorious sunshine. Water fountain gently trickling in the middle of the maze that was his back garden. A few house elves were trimming the hedges. It's a shame really, because when you were a guest in his house, it was near freezing and covered in thick white snow outside. You never got to see the garden in its full glory. He wonders what you're doing now, if you're already at Weasley's house. Surely having a better time that he was...
Right?
"What do you mean you're not coming?"
Hermione bellows over the muggle phone that Mr Weasley has. Her hands were covered in batter, her apron speckled with flour as Ron and George attempt to hang the "Happy Gradation!" bunting over the dining table (Mrs Weasley, in a rush, had forgotten the 'u'.)
"I thought we'd gone over this," Hermione said, leaning to speak into the phone that was sitting on the side, its cord winding back to the holder at the other end of the kitchen, "everyone would love to see you, and you'll enjoy it once you're here."
You hear a kerfuffle in the background. "I said to your right, Ron, that's your left." George's distant voice laughs, as Ron protests "Do you want to try? I'm trying not to stand on the forks." Then a clash and a bang, and George's laughter erupts into hysterics.
"Is everything alright there, 'Mione?" you ask, and she sighs irritably.
"Ron's just fallen off the table," she said nonchalantly, "anyway, back to you. I would really love it if you could make it, Y/N. It might do you good, to get out and be around familiar faces. Besides, we graduate this weekend! We need to celebrate."
"I'm not exactly a joy to be around," you said miserably, "I'd hate to be a buzzkill."
"You won't be!" Hermione reassures you, panicking slightly that if, by some grace of the Gods, Draco decides to take her advice, you won't even be there when he shows, "please, Y/N. Rethink it? You have time, it doesn't start for a few more hours."
"I'll... think on it," you mutter, but Hermione isn't convinced, "please don't think I'm not grateful to you all. What you're doing is lovely and I do want to celebrate with everyone."
"I know," Hermione's kind voice said over the noise; George's roaring laughter and Ron's angry chuntering just audible,"I understand. Just promise me you'll think more about it before making a decision?"
There's a silence, as you stare out of your living room window, a white lie rolling off your tongue.
"Yeah," you breathe, smiling sadly on the other end, "I promise."
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Night crawls in like a bad omen, seeping darkness into the unlit parts of the Malfoy's home; lamps and candles now lighting the long hallways, dining hall and main drawing room. The huge windows cast light across the dark grounds, the humid summer heat still hanging in the air. The antique clock on Draco's bedside table ticks, and ticks, and ticks. He fixes his tie one last time. Smooths down his hair, his suit, and takes a long, raggedy breath.
Grangers words still circle his mind.
There was one last chance still lingering, waiting for his hands to grasp it. He took a long hard look in the mirror at his pale complexion, something that never seemed to change about him after all these years. Still pasty, eyes still sharp and greyish blue, hair still thick and fair. The only thing that ever seemed to change about Draco was his age; the rest of him, even his bitterness, never faltered. Although, even those around him were not blind to the way he had softened - despite him always being Malfoy, his hard demeanour and nasty glare weren't as they once were. Something, or someone, rather, had managed to shift him slightly. 
But to Draco, as he looks into the mirror, dressed in his best, all he could see was the same old coward. The same old Malfoy.
"Draco, dear," a loud knock on his door tore his eyes away from the reflection, "they'll be here any minute, I need you down in the foyer to greet them."
"Yes, mother," he calls back, slipping the tiny velvet box on his desk into his pocket and leaving the safety of his bedroom.
The house was filled with the sweet aroma of summer flowers, grown in his mothers flower beds and arranged by the house elf for tonight's festivities. Candles and sconces lit his way, and he entered the main foyer to stand beside the large oak doors that Astoria Greengrass was no doubt about to walk through. He thinks back on Christmas, and how you showed up, in blistering cold and thick snow to bring him a simple box of chocolates. How you both drank the cellar dry and played pool like two giggling school girls. A smile creeps onto his face, just as his mother comes galloping down the staircase in a rush.
"Any moment," she mutters to herself, grabbing Draco's arm to stand beside her, directly opposite the door. One last look over her son, she smooths his tie and gives him a loving look, "so handsome," she whispers, pinching his cheek lightly as he grimaces at the gesture.
Then a loud, almost nautisating bell rings throughout the foyer, and Draco's stomach drops. Narcissa hurries over, and with a flick of her hand, the door scrapes along the tiled floor to reveal Mr and Mrs Greengrass, Daphne Greengrass, and her younger sister, Astoria Greengrass. 
"Ah, how wonderful it is to see you, Mr and Mrs Greengrass, please, do come in." Narcissa graciously moves aside, as Draco extends his hand to Astoria's father, kisses her mother's hand and gives his old classmate Daphne a little bow.
"Daph," he smiles thinly, and she curtsies in return.
"Draco," she greets him kindly, "it's been a while."
"Yeah, just a little," he jokes with a lifeless chuckle, "you look well."
"Thank you," she nudges him on the arm, "and so do you. But, you've always scrubbed up well. Remember the Yule Ball? Gosh, I regret that gigantic pink gown to this day."
The two remenice a little while as Astoria stands at a comfortable distance, watching Draco's every move whilst speaking to her older sister. They laugh about some past memories as young Slytherins, until Daphne finally remembers why she's there.
"Oh, Merlin, listen to me ramble," she says, turning to face her little sister, "I'm sure it's my kid sister you really want to speak to. Right, 'Storia? You've done nothing but talk about Dr-"
"Shut it," Astoria, red cheeked, snapped quietly to her sister, before giving Draco a kind, almost reassuring smile, "good evening, Draco."
"Evening, 'Storia," he reaches out to press a kiss to her hand politely, "you look lovely."
She blushed a furious red, and in true Slytherin fashion, Daphne started chuckling to herself, opening her mouth to comment on her sisters tomato face when the tiny house elf that lived at the Malfoy residence offered to take the ladies coats. A look of relief washed over Astoria, thankful at the interruption. Drinks were poured in the drawing room, Lucius discussing current Ministry affairs with Mr Greengrass as Narcissa gave Mrs Greengrass a very lengthy description of the many portraits on the walls. Astoria excused herself to use the restroom, giving Draco a moment's peace after she talked and talked and talked about her interest in becoming an activist for magical creatures in captivity. As noble as her cause was, Draco was bored to tears. Then the couch dipped down beside him, and he looks up to see Daphne had claimed her sisters spot, a knowing smirk at her lips.
"You're so miserable, do you know that, Malfoy?" She says, swirling sparkling wine in her glass. Draco chokes on his.
"Excuse me?" he coughs, "you do realise you're in my house, drinking my wine as you insult me.”
She laughed. 
"Oh stop being so uptight," she said. Daphne had known Draco for many years, and as a result of that, knew his tell tale signs. She was in his circle of friends, and Pansy stuck herself to Daphne just as much as she did Draco. Her fair share of childhood mischief was done with Draco at her side. Parties and celebrations as children were spent sneaking about their parents houses and making trouble for the guests. All those years had gone now, though, but Daphne was still someone Draco remembered fondly, even if he was marrying her sister unwillingly. But Daphne, unlike her sister, had the qualities of a true Slytherin, and nothing, absolutely nothing, got past her, "you do look bloody miserable. What's wrong? Wait, don't tell me. 'Storia's been talking your ear off about magical creatures rights, hasn't she? Girl's about as interesting as a mop bucket."
Draco can't help but chuckle at that, and Daphne smiles over her glass at her old friend.
"Her hearts in the right place, Daph," Draco then defends the poor girl, who isn't even present to do it herself, "it's just... not for me, that's all."
"Sure enough, but my God, she needs a hobby, Dray," Daphne shakes her head, and the nickname was nice to hear from someone other than Pansy. It had some good memories attached to it, as well, "and so do you, by the sounds of it. All I've heard from 'Storia is how much time you spend in your damn room."
"It's called studying, Daphne," Draco points out, finishing his last drop of wine, "I didn't go back to Hogwarts to just sit around, you know."
"Oh, really?" she says sarcastically, "here's me thinking you just fancied a change in scenery," she sips her drink, noticing Draco's glare from the corner of her eye. "So," she then goes to say, "tell me. Why are you doing this, exactly?"
Draco almost gets whiplash from how quickly he turns his head. 
"What?"
"I asked why you're doing this," Daphne repeats nonchalantly, "you clearly don't want to be here. I'm not saying that my sister isn't a catch, because for the right guy, I'm sure she is, but for you... I guess I thought you'd be against all this arranged marriage nonsense." 
"I am," he mutters bitterly, deciding to stare hard into the fire instead of face Daphne anymore, because, as usual, her observation was off the charts, "but I don't want to disappoint anyone."
"But you're happy to disappoint yourself?"
He swallows thickly. Daphne sips her wine and watches as he squirms under pressure, how he still plays with his fingers when he gets nervous. Then, she shrugs, sighs, and gets up from her seat, "better get ready for dinner. Nice talking, Dray."
As quickly as Daphne left, Astoria reappears, sitting awfully close to Draco as she fills up his glass with wine she had collected along the way. 
"So," she says, sitting back comfortably beside him, "what did I miss?"
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disclaimer: i do not own hp or any of the characters in this story
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badlandsx · 21 days
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Spoiler Alert from Punk Hazard! (I guess)
hey guys!
So, I have this Idea on my mind about Law and reader, that I've been creating as while I'm watching the anime, and since I'm not a good writer, I thought that would be nice to share and maybe if someone wants to write it, or use it as inspiration for something, it would be cool.
So, the reader is a member of the Straw Hat crew, and she has a kind personality, is sweet, those kind of things, because I love the "grumpy x sunshine" plot, she is not weak or anything tho, and when the crew gets separated during the timeskip, for some reason she ends up on Law's submarine, and stay with him during the two years, I even thought it would be cool that she could be with Luffy during his breakdown on the island of women, but anyway, they end up falling in love during these two years, and despite knowing each other's feelings they decide not to do anything about it, and then they meet again in Punk Hazard, and there's this atmosphere between the two of them where they need to talk but don't have the chance, and after the battle is over, when Law makes the alliance with Luffy, she offers to show him the ship or something like that, and during this she ends up confessing that she missed him, and even though Law missed her too, and wants to talk to her, and be with her, he doesn't allow himself, because he needs to focus on the plan against Doflamingo, and of course he doesn't want to be vulnerable and stuff.
And then I don't know, this is where I am on the anime, I just started the Dresserosa arc, maybe their kiss can wait.
So that's it, if anyone writes something similar please tag me :)
Since I don't write, I'll probably want to keep sharing my thoughts while watching Dresserosa.
PS: In my head, the reader likes music and painting, it's kinda of her thing, it's a little cliche I know, but I imagine her showing Law her room when introducing the Sunny, and him seeing some painting of hers or an instrument, and remembering what she said about when they were together on the submarine. I really wish I had the talent and patience to write, I even thought of some details, like the reader is in Luffy's group in Punk Hazard exploring the Island, and when they meet the samurai from Wano she feels little butterflies on her stomach, because the only person she knows that could do something like that is Law, and this makes her wonder if he was there or is there, and she tries not to get excited, telling herself it's just coincidence.
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bonny-kookoo · 11 months
Text
Jungkook
𝓣𝓪𝓴𝓮 𝓒𝓪𝓻𝓮 : [How To Trust]
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Everyday brings new challenges, new miracles, and new faces into his life. And yours, he decides, shouldn't look so scared all the time.
Tags/Warnings: Hospital/Medical AU, Doctor!Jungkook, slightly aged up!Jungkook, Doctor!Yoongi, Nurse!Jimin, Doctor!Namjoon, Surgeon!Hoseok, mentions of Anaesthetist!Taehyung, blood, medical terms, hospital stuff come on this is a medical au, mentions of panic, mentions of vomiting but not descriptive, mentions of suspected abuse, mentions of actual abuse (mental/physical)
Length: 4.4k words
THERE IS NO TAGLIST FOR THIS FIC!
A/N: Please do not come for my throat if some stuff doesn't make sense. I've tried hard, but I'm not a doctor, and so none of this should be taken too seriously. Treat it like a medical drama. Those ain't real either haha also how big do I have to make the warning that there's no taglist for people to realize there is no taglist
-> Masterlist
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"Do you have a girlfriend, young man?" The elderly hybrid giggles, her owner and husband on a chair sitting close to her bed shaking his head as Jungkook chuckles himself, adjusting the drip for her medication.
"I do not, Miss Yong." He informs her. "With a job like mine, it's a bit difficult." He explains, shrugging. He's got to talk a bit louder so she can hear him properly, but he's positively surprised by her otherwise overall good health. She's way past the typical age where Hybrids are known to decline, after all. A little bit of hearing loss is nothing compared to what he usually sees in hybrids her age.
"Oh that's such a shame." She whines to her husband at her side. "He's such a handsome friend, isn't he? You must go on dates, at least!" She whispers at him, but he just laughs.
"I'm sorry, she can be nosy." Her husband apologizes for her, though Jungkook simply shakes his head.
"No worries. She's completely allowed to be nosy." He charmingly says, making the older woman laugh to herself, her floppy ears just as grey as her hair. "Are you in any pain right now?" He asks her, but she shakes her head, visibly drowsy from the pain medication she's already been given for her fractured ankle. "That's good. I'll go check up with my coworkers on the scans, and then I'll be right back to discuss how we'll proceed from here, is that alright?" He asks, and she nods.
"I've got my company right here." She smiles at her husband who holds her had with an equally warm expression.
When Jungkook walks to the small area for staff to discuss the scans, he can't help but shake his head amazed, Jimin laughing as well. "She's awfully energetic for her age." Jimin grins brightly, clicking away on the computer to find the scans from earlier, Hoseok close by nodding to himself. "To imagine her being almost sixty. Amazing." Jimin smiles to himself.
"The fracture is a bit complicated, and I doubt she'll walk perfectly fine in the future even after surgery-" Hoseok informs, showing Jungkook the scans. "But she'll be fine. I doubt she's going into any sort of competitive sports at her age anyways." He chuckles.
"I've already printed all the forms out for her admission, filled out what I can. I'll just need your signatures and other info I didn't bother to do." Jimin jokes.
"You think she's still high risk surgery?" Hoseok asks, referring to the patient. "Considering her age. I'm a little worried about anesthetics."
"She's got no blood pressure issues or any other health problems we'd usually see in hybrids her age. So no- while I'd love you to stay a bit careful, I don't think she's high risk." He nods. "Taehyung should stand by during the surgery to watch over everything if that makes you more comfortable." He says, and Hoseok nods.
"Right, he's back from break, isn't he?" He chimes up, nodding. "I'll go fetch him then." The surgeon agrees, walking off as Jungkook goes back to the patient as well.
Things like these make him feel proud.
It's not arrogant to assume that he's playing a big part in cases like hers- a 58 year old hybrid in very good shape- things that are becoming more and more common these days. Every new discovery, every new person deciding to study this field, every new medical issue solved, adds to the life expectancy of hybrids. And it's not just them- Jungkook knows that sometimes, discoveries about hybrids' bodies can help humans too.
"Alright Miss Yong, you have indeed fractured your ankle pretty badly." Jungkook nods as he walks into her section in the emergency hall. "We'll schedule you for surgery, but considering your overall wonderful health, I'm not worried." He informs her. "Although I do have to inform you that considering your age there is a basic risk to any surgery present." He says, especially towards the owner and husband, who nods.
"That's only logical." He nods, since his wife seems a bit sleepy. "So how long will she stay here?" He asks, and Jimin sneaks into the room, preparing everything to have her transported to her room.
"It's not clear yet, but it'll definitely be until the end of the week at least." Jungkook informs him. "But Doctor Jung will give you a more detailed insight on what's to come from here on." He tells them both.
"Is he as handsome as you?" The lady asks, and Jimin can't help but snort a laugh.
"Oh, even more so, I'd say." Jungkook jokes, and everyone laughs.
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Jungkook has given an oath to protect life, and he's aware of that- but he hopes whoever's up there above makes an exception for him when he has to commit a murder in the next few minutes.
"You better have a real good reason to ping me out of my bed at 3 in the fucking morning.!" Jungkook growls under his breath, walking into the staff room where Namjoon seems to have already been waiting. "The ER is empty- so is my bed, when I should be in it! Why am I here?" He whines, changing out of his clothes and into his scrubs- his shift is gonna start at 5 anyways, so it won't really be smart to go back home after whatever is going on that needs his attention so badly is done.
"Trust me, I hate ringing you out of your sleep." Namjoon sighs, as he slides a clipboard towards the young doctor, who slips on his shoes before he takes it to read over it. "Take a good look at it, and tell me what's fishy about it." He asks, and Jungkook adjusts his glasses, reading through all the medical jargon written down in handwriting he used to be unable to read.
"Are you trying to test me here?" Jungkook asks annoyed, though he keeps his attention mostly on the clipboard, moving page after page to find what his friend and coworker seems to be hinting at.
"No, I'm serious." Namjoon questions, crossing his arms.
The seriousness in his voice makes Jungkook focus a bit more, looking through everything when he flips a page back and forth. "Wait, that doesn't make sense.." He mumbles to himself, and Namjoon seems relieved that his best friend has seemingly found the issue as well. "How the hell does one get stabbed three times 'on accident'?" Jungkook questions, shaking his head. "On the thigh, too?" He wonders, looking at Namjoon in front of him.
"Owner said the patient had 'moved around' while he tried to remove the butter knife, forcing it back in twice." Namjoon offers, and Jungkook scoffs.
"Come on, stabbing someone with something as dull as a butter knife is already pretty impossible to achieve." The young doctor questions. "But really? And anyone believed him?" He wonders, looking through the vitals once more.
"Read the name again. The owner's, not the patient's." He asks, and Jungkook's eyes widen.
"Jo Dongsun? So that's why they're just gonna shrug it off?" He asks. "Cause he's an actor?"
"Probably." Namjoon sighs, walking back to take a sip from his cold coffee on the table. "But that's not.. entirely why I pinged you." He says, peaking Jungkook's interest as he's finally awake and alert enough, fully back in work-mode. "The patient- poor thing is refusing any up-close treatment, has to be put on local anesthetics, and you know that's not ideal." The young doctor says, walking out the door with his friend at his side, walking back into the ER. "And you've got a hand for things like that. Maybe you can try and make her feel more comfortable so we won't have to medicate her this much?" He asks, and Jungkook nods.
Hybrids are pretty sensitive to most human medications- their bodies still being studied, many side effects still being explored and explained. But until they're understood to the degree that the world understands the human body, they have to work with that they have- and adjust everything else. It's why people like Jungkook are so vital to today's medical system- he's talented in creating solutions for problems no one else would think of, keeps his studies up to date, and is most of all compassionate and kind even to the wildest of patients.
He's also got a certified degree proving his top knowledge when it comes to hybrid care specifically. It's why Namjoon had even proposed the idea to everyone to move you into Jungkook's care instead, though some aren't really on board with it, considering his rather.. wild attitude so to speak. He won't back into whatever the man will try and tell him happened- he will try and get to the bottom of this, no matter how much impact that guy has.
If he has to ruin a career to save a life, he will.
"I'll do my best. If it's a domestic abuse case she's probably pretty terrified." Jungkook mumbles more or less to himself, before he seems to arrive at the corner you're hidden in, curtains giving you some privacy. He doesn't know what to expect, really- even though he's read all of your data, everything he needs to know about your physical and mental state- he still won't know what he's dealing with until he goes behind that curtain.
And nothing in the world could've prepared him for what's behind that said curtain, as he pulls it back and catches his first glimpse of you.
He knows you.
Jimin is currently rushing from left to right with gauze, trying to stop your bleeding when Jungkook shows up. "I assume Namjoon filled you in?" He asks distracted, and Jungkook nods.
"Yeah. How's the bleeding?" He worries, watching how another nurse hangs up a bag of blood to prepare a transfusion to make up for the blood you've lost.
"Those two here-" Jimin points at the ones he's talking about. "Are alright for now, they're deep, but this one right here definitely hit one of the bigger blood vessels." He explains, exchanging the gauze again. "It just won't stop." He hisses to himself.
"Alright we've got the blood here already, which is good because that blood pressure is not making me happy right now." He says, taking control of the situation and nurses standing by for any sort of demand. "I want you to stop any medication you're using to keep her unconscious right now so we don't have her drop any further. Have we got any scans of the wounds yet?" He asks, and Jimin nods.
"She came back from CT a few minutes ago, they should be back soon." He says a bit distracted, hissing to himself when the wound starts bleeding as soon as he takes away the gauze.
"Where's her owner?" Jungkook asks, and Jimin's face shows all he needs to know.
"I'd say too worried about the potential scandal than here." He scoffs. "But trust me I'd rather deal with him than her careworker demon in the waiting room right now." He says.
"Let me guess, elderly woman, sour attitude and dark lipstick?" He asks.
"You know her?" Jimin wonders, fixating a bandage.
"Met them both a week ago I think? Already got a sense something was off.." He wonders. "Gives me a good chance to check on something though. Can you hold her turned a bit, I want to get a look at her tail." He asks the senior nurse, who nods, gently turning you on your side for his friend to look at.
He feels around at the base, all the way down to the tip of your tail, deep in thought.
"What're you looking for?" Jimin wonders, closely paying attention to your vitals as they slowly change, your consciousness returning very slowly.
"Proof." Jungkook simply states. Considering you're above the age of 21, he can't just lean on the help of the law for hybrid abuse- you're too old for that, and your category is too low as well. So the only way he can get you out of this situation, is by providing undisputable proof of present neglect or abuse.
"You think it's abuse?" Jimin wonders. "That's a big claim to make, Jungkook. That guy could ruin your career and future with a snap of his fingers."
"So can I." Jungkook himself simply says. "I want an X-ray of her tail, full side and length." He offers. "And as soon as she's back up, ping me."
"Did she break it?" Jimin wonders, carefully adjusting you back on your backside.
"Not today-" He says, taking his clipboard with him. "-but in the past, at least four times."
"that's not uncommon for canine hybrids." Jimin softly argues. "they knock their tails into things constantly." He claims.
"I'm aware." He nods. "But her tail's ice cold down the sixth vertebra. And that's exactly where she caught it last time I saw her- which means she didn't see anyone for it until now." He mumbles the last part to himself, running off to check with someone else he knows and trusts-
leaving a confused Jimin behind.
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"I could give you options to at least file in for neglect." Yoongi quietly mumbles, looking at the X-rays and scans. "Though if you spin it smart, you could argue about her past medical history being proof of something going on as well." The young man nods, reading the charts on the clipboard. "How do you know her?"
"Met her last week. She'd gotten her tail caught in those automatic glass doors, complained over numbness in her legs right after." He sighs. "Her caretaker was what bothered me most. She wasn't at all interested in her health." Yoongi nods at that, giving the clipboard back.
"Well-" He softly speaks, getting up to adjust something near the patient's bed, before he sits down again. "-I'm not in the position to tell you not to get attached to her." He responds, his gaze on the female feline hybrid in the bed, monitor beeping in a steady rhythm, soothing his mind a bit. Yoongi has been at her bedside ever since she was admitted- no owner to take care of her, instead in government care. No one knows exactly why he of all people is so attached to her, visiting her every day at least once- but it's a well known fact to everyone that he loves her dearly.
Even though, if they have any memories together, she won't remember any of them even if she ever wakes up.
"But I have to remind you that you're playing against a huge name. This will cost you your entire career if you fail." Yoongi says, and Jungkook nods.
He knows this. Going against a name as big as him will put him into the public eye as well- and considering that he doesn't have any foolproof evidence yet, he'd be dumb to actually try and involve authorities at this point in time. No matter what, this isn't as easy and cut-out as he wishes it would be.
"Do what you're paid for, for now." Yoongi reminds him. "Look after her, make sure she recovers, get her back on her feet. As soon as you leave this building, leave her here as well."
Jungkook sighs defeatedly, nodding. "I'll check up here before I go tonight." He says, nodding to the hospital bed behind Yoongi- but he only shrugs, before Jungkook get's pinged back to the emergency room where you're still placed.
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When he arrives, he can already hear the commotion from behind the privacy curtains.
"I have a right to be here, she's just being dramatic!" The familiar voice of the lady calls out, and Jungkook feels like he wants to turn and go the other way. But instead, he listens to Yoongi's advice, and enters the small section where you're being treated. "You! Put your workers in line here, I've been verbally assaulted just for checking up on her-" She argues, Jimin ready to snap at her.
"Miss- okay, let's calm down everyone, this is not helping her at all right now." Jungkok tries to solve the small fight between an angrily glaring Jimin and the older woman currently huffing in anger. "I kindly ask you to move to the side please so I can properly assess her, if you don't mind." He asks, but she crosses her arms.
"You can just squeeze past me, what's the big deal? I thought you've already done that, you've had her here for ages after all!" She huffs. "We've been here four hours almost, for a simple accident! This is ridiculous!" She yells at him, but he's not at all bothered by it.
"Miss I will have to get you removed if you're going to hinder me in doing my job." He calmly responds, noticing how you lean into Jimin's body, something the nurse notices as well as he masks gentle comforting touches as things such as adjusting your gown that you've been given. It's another clue that something's off- the way you're moving away from her, technically a known and familiar and usually comforting person, instead leaning towards a stranger in something scary as a hospital with all its sounds and smells.
"You can't make me do anything." She threatens him. "Who do you think you are? Fresh out of medical school and thinks he's something better! Are you even old enough to work as a doctor?!" She claims, and Jungkook simply sighs, opening the curtains a bit.
"Can I have security here, please?" He calls out, a nurse close by picking up a phone to call for them, while the woman is successfully triggered by his actions.
"Come on, up. We're leaving." She snaps at you, reaching to rip out the delicate tubes connected to your arm- but Jungkook steps in instead, putting his body in front of her so she can't reach you.
"Miss, I can understand this is stressful, but you're being unreasonable." He argues as gently as he can. "I can't let you take her in this condition."
"You're gonna hear about this!" She seethes as security leads her away. "Have fun playing doctor while you can.!" She hisses, being escorted away while still arguing.
Jungkook sighs, and so does Jimin.
"…m' sorry." You mumble quietly, and Jimin immediately looks at you gently.
"You've got nothing to be sorry for, sweetheart." He reassures. "Let's get you properly sorted out now, okay?" He tells you, and you nod.
"How are your legs doing, hm?" Jungkook asks, and now you seem to properly look at him for the first time.
"Oh." You simply say, only realizing now who he is. He looks a lot different than last time- his bangs are brushed back and revealing his forehead, and he's dressed in a more formal-casual style, with black slacks and a light brown button up, the first few undone. It's like he's suddenly aged up five years at least, but he doesn't seem unfriendly or intimidating at all, even though you can see the muscles underneath his skin work as he rolls up his sleeves.
"I look a bit different, don't I?" He chuckles, walking closer. "Are you in a lot of pain right now or is it manageable?" He wonders, and you finally seem to settle down quite a bit.
"Just a bit." You quietly answer him. "And my legs are okay." You explain. "Just.. feel a bit like I'm gonna be sick." You worry towards Jimin who's busied himself with petting one of your ears. When he hears this, he gets a small paper bowl ready just in case, and Jungkook nods as he checks all the vitals.
"Hm, your blood pressure is still a bit low so that might be why you feel a bit nauseous." He reassures. "We'll get some more fluids in for you, you're pretty dehydrated. Do you drink enough water during the day?" He asks you, and you shrug. "Don't know?" He chuckles in sympathy, aware that you might still be a bit dizzy and foggy in the head from everything going on.
"What's too little?" You ask him softly.
"Well, I'd say everything below maybe five glasses in a day?" He says, and your eyes widen.
"That much?" You wonder, looking at Jimin at your side.
"A lot of people forget to drink during the day." The nurse reassures. Jungkook however, can't help but dig deeper.
"Doesn't your owner make sure you drink enough?" He wonders, and you shrug.
"Don't see him much." You mumble. "He's busy. I mostly stay with Miss Hwang, and she doesn't really pay much attention to what I eat or drink." You say, watching how Jungkook steps aside to let a nurse hang up a bag of IV-fluids.
"Hm, I see." He nods to himself.
"Am I in trouble?" You ask suddenly, ears pinned down.
"For what would you get into trouble for?" Jimin wonders next to you.
"Cause I used the phone without asking." You offer them. "I just got scared. I know it's not allowed for me to used it.." You say, and Jungkook exchanges a glance with Jimin.
"No, you're not in trouble." Jungkook reassures. "Who said you can't use the phone?" He wonders, though tries hard not to show his inner worry.
"My owner and Miss Hwang. Cause I'm a hybrid, and I'll go to prison if I do." You say.
"Can you tell me exactly what happened today?" Jungkook asks, pulling a chair closer to sit on it next to where you're laying.
"We had Dinner, Dongsun and uh, miss Hwang and I." You recall, looking at your hands. "I.. we had pizza." You describe, seeing the scene in front of you again. "And I wanted- I asked Dongsun for a piece of his and he said yeah- and usually he doesn't share with me so I got excited." You explain; looking at Jungkook as if to convey that you're sorry about whatever happened. "I knocked over a glass on the table, and it spilled on his phone I think- so he got angry, and I think he just wanted to hit the table, but he- I think he just- he just didn't see that I was sitting too close, probably, maybe- and-" You ramble now. "I don't know, I don't think I remember it right, I think I just got scared and made things up in my head." You stutter, Jimin gently rubbing your shoulder in reassurance.
Jungkook can sense something wrong here.
"Do you do that a lot?" He asks. "Make stuff up in your head when you're scared?" He questions, and you shrug.
"Dongsun says I do. Hybrids do that all the time, he says." You explain to him. "So I- Miss Hwang and Dongsun will know what happened, really. I- you're a doctor right? Why do we do that?" You ask, and Jungkook can't give you an answer.
Because there is none. Whatever world-view and twisted facts you've been fed until now are simply bullshit.
"What.. happened in your mind?" Jungkook carefully asks, as Namjoon enters the small space. "Like, what do you remember happened?" He wonders.
"Dongsun got really angry. He gets angry often, because I'm stupid." You explain casually, making Namjoon's face twist into one of pure confusion. "He was surprised for a second when he accidentally hit my leg with the knife. But then he.. I don't know, it was like he.. snapped. And so he did it again, and another time, until I ran away and hid in the bathroom." You say. "In my mind it looked like he was hurting me on purpose. So I ran off, and- no wait, I didn't run into the bathroom, it was the bedroom. Yeah. I made a mess there- Dongsun has a really pretty white carpet there, I got into trouble once because I accidentally dropped a glass of juice on it.." You drift off.
"Did you call the ambulance there?" Jungkook questions, and you nod.
"That's where I used Miss Hwang's phone that was on the bed." You say, and it confuses everyone for a second why her phone would be there- but they don't think about it for now. "Am I gonna get put into jail now?" You ask, and Jungkook shakes his head.
"No, absolutely not sweetheart." He shakes his head. "You did a great job calling for help. We'll take good care of you, and make sure you'll be alright, okay?" He asks, and you nod.
"I think I might be sick.." You mumble ashamed at Jimin, who quickly reaches for the paper bowl to hold for you, another hand holding your hair away from your face.
"Why is her blood pressure still so low?" Namjoon wonders more quietly to Jungkook, who'd just stood up as well, arms crossed.
"Maybe an underlying issue undiagnosed." Jungkook mumbles, watching you. "Maybe drugs. I'm gonna have them do a urine test for common birth control and hormone blockers. I've not got a good feeling with her whatsoever." He lowly tells his coworker. "I know domestic abuse when I see it, and right there-" He looks back at where you're laying back down with the help of Jimin, another nurse walking in to tell him something, "-is a hybrid who's been conditioned into believing that she can't trust her own judgement, and that she has to abide by everything her owner and caretaker say." He tells Namjoon, walking out of your hearing range for a moment. "Hell- they told her it's illegal for a hybrid to use a fucking phone, Namjoon, that's cult-shit!" He hisses.
"Yoongi has told me you're suspecting something like that." The emergency doctor shakes his head. "Hearing the little that I did, I'm honestly on board with you. But we're not law enforcement. Jungkook, our hands are bound- she's above age and below category for us to use any of the safety laws in this case." He reminds the younger doctor.
"I know." He sighs, defeated. "Fuck, I know."
"Let's make sure she gets the treatment she needs for now, alright? Go one step at a time." Namjoon tries to reassure his friend. "For now, you've got medicine on your side. She can't be taken home in this condition, no matter if her owner wants that or not. Currently, she's legally in our care, until she's deemed healthy enough to go back home." He reminds his friend, who nods.
"I guess that's all the time we get." He worries, watching as everyone walks around, Jimin exiting your little space to talk to another nurse standing by.
And for the first time in a long while, Jungkook knows he'll go against Yoongi's advice, and take his work home tonight.
Your fearful gaze haunting him in his sleep.
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