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punkchestnuts · 7 months

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One door closes, and another one opens, part 2

Crossposted at ao3.

Trigger warning: mentions of violence, child abuse, abortion, blood, and attempted su!c1d3

The part containing these is just a paragraph, but can be skipped. The indicator is ///. You can continue reading after the second ///.

Please take care.

—-

It’s the curtains she sees first when she comes to. It’s a sheer grey fabric instead of the maroon ones she has in her room and she stirs at the realization. She’s not in her bed either because the surface she's laying in is firmer; she can smell a faint citrusy smell that isn’t the kind she or Yildiz use on their own laundry. It takes her a few seconds to register that she’s not in her apartment, and to remember why she’s at Ali Kemal’s couch.

She’s not entirely sure how long she’s been asleep for. She didn’t leave any lights on when she went to sleep, and she sure as hell didn’t put in any alarms to remind her how many hours she wanted to sleep for. She stretches and snuggles closer to a pillow, knowing she doesn’t really care how many hours she slept, only that she is able to sleep at all.

Speaking of alarms, Hilal doesn’t remember where she placed her phone. It wasn’t on the coffee table across the couch, nor was it lodged in between the cushions; squeezed behind her as she’s wont to do on her own bed (in this case, she just throws the device behind her. She’s a small person, so a single offers her a lot more space than the average person). But because she’s a human being living in a digital age, the anxiety of not knowing where her phone is (which she suspects is dead given its faulty battery life) is more concerning than getting more hours of Z’s.

She sits up and looks around for the device, but she jumps when she realizes she’s not alone as she had expected to be. There’s clanking coming from the kitchen and she can smell a faint whiff of something garlicky and fragrant being made in there. She relaxes when she remembers Ali Kemal telling her he’d be bringing food when he comes back. If she had to be honest about it though, she’d thought the man was bringing take-out instead of actual groceries to be cooked here; not to mention, she’d feel even more embarrassed if he actually does cook for her.

She makes a mental note to thank Ali Hemal for keeping the lights off in the living room.

If Ali Kemal is back, then he's back early. That, or Hilal just slept longer than she thinks.

Which brings her back to her dilemma: her phone.

She didn’t have to look too far because once she sets her feet on the floor, she feels her toe hit something solid and small. Pulling up the rest of the blanket that fell on the floor, she finds her phone face down on the ground. She immediately checks the time. (Pleasantly surprised the thing wasn't completely dead when she tapped on the screen. It still has 3 percent left, but it is impressive all the same.)

It’s nearly 7 pm. She came by at Ali Kemal’s after lunch time, so that makes a good amount of hours spent sleeping. Not enough, but it is a good amount given her already erratic sleeping schedule. If she is honest, she knows she’ll fall back to sleep after some food.

(There aren’t a lot of messages and notifications, besides the one where her sister asking if she’s settled and the head nurse basically asking the same.)

She’s vaguely aware of how hungry she is and the teasing scent of sauteed garlic and mushrooms is enough for her to decide that she food is in order before going back to sleep. Hilal walks into the kitchen only to be completely taken aback when it’s not Ali Kemal inside the kitchen.

She can only see the man’s back but she knows it’s not Ali Kemal. Ali Kemal is broader, his hair darker, and he certainly doesn’t seem the type to be humming to himself as he prepares some food. But the man in the kitchen is just as tall as Ali Kemal, his shoulders are considered broad but it’s accentuated by the slim waist (even more accentuated by the fact the man was wearing a fancy shirt tucked into his pants AND the apron tied around his waist). Hilal stops herself from ogling the stranger and looks for potential weapons.

She has no idea who this man is, and she’s a little wary of the fact that Ali Kemal has never told her about having a roommate nor did he warn her of anyone coming to visit. Ali Kemal is someone who likes his privacy and wouldn’t easily invite people over (hence why Hilal is a little surprised at Ali Kemal’s easy acquiesce to playing the host).

He doesn’t seem to notice her creeping behind him either, and she’s thankful she’s not wearing any slippers; the sound of her steps silence by the thick fabric of her socks.

The man looks too familiar with the place: he’s flipping the pan confidently, humming what sounds like a number from a musical she can’t remember the name to, and he takes a spoon out of a drawer. Clearly he knows his way around the kitchen.

He couldn’t have broken in because she would’ve heard something, and she would’ve woken up to half of Ali Kemal’s things missing from where they’re supposed to be. He doesn’t look like someone who breaks in either, not with the crisp baby blue shirt and the well-fitting trousers (and boy do they fit *well*). That would mean he has a key.

But who would Ali Kemal give a key to his apartment to?

Hilal decides to do something about it. The man’s starting to actually sing and the mushrooms smell amazing, it’s all very distracting.

She clears her throat as loudly as she can. “Excuse me,” she says, interrupting the man who jumps slightly when he hears her. “Who are you?”

The man turns. And honestly? He was hot, and he had a mustache. Who in their youth would want to sport a moustache? But he makes it work. There’s a bit of stubble along his chin and jawline and it should not be attractive as it should. (She doesn’t have an issue with hairy men; she does in fact have fond memories of pulling at her father’s beard when she was a little girl). But facial hair wasn’t something she usually found attractive on a man.

His face is all angles: smooth jawline and a subtle aquiline nose. Hilal mentally shakes herself out of it and glares him down.

He blinks a few times before smiling sheepishly. “Uh, just give me a sec,” he says before clearing his throat and puts a li over the pan. He wipes his hands on the apron and turns towards her, leaning against the counter.

“Hi,” he greets. “You’re awake. Please have a seat.” He gestures to the chair closest to her. “Let me just finish this up really quickly,” he nods towards the pan on the stove. “Please don’t hit me. I promise, I’m a friend. Uh, friendly, at the very least.”

She doesn’t find that hard to believe, but she isn’t any less wary. She doesn’t take a seat, instead crosses her arms across her chest and continues to glare him down. “Excuse me if I don’t believe you.”

The man nods with an understanding smile. He straightens. “Right, I apologize. I’m Leon. Ali Kemal told me you’d be here and I figured you haven’t eaten anything yet.” He looks over his shoulder. “Sorry, I really need to see this,” he says and turns back around to attend to whatever he’s cooking up.

She just lets him finish the food. She watches him grab things from the cupboard and cabinets, further strengthening her initial theory that he is very familiar with the place. He generally moves around the kitchen like he’s made many meals in there many times before. Despite this, Hilal remains wary. This doesn't negate possibility that this man might be a potential serial killer.

In the back of her mind, she’s trying to remember if Ali Kemal did mention a roommate or a significant other that comes and goes in his place. Hilal feels bad if he had and she managed to forget. She actually prides herself for remembering random facts about people, like their birthdays or what their usual orders at cafés are.

There are three possibilities regarding this situation. The first is that she has forgotten if Ali Kemal mentioned anyone living with him (Hilal will definitely feel like the worst person if this is true). The second is that Ali Kemal deliberately didn’t tell her and that the reason why he hasn’t told her earlier is because he isn’t expecting company (she doesn’t know what to feel about this one). Finally, the third is that this man is actually a stranger and he’s getting ready to get Hilal into a false sense of security and kill her at the most opportune moment (now this one is probably the most unlikely, but Hilal *does* like her true crime podcasts and documentaries. Plus, she works at a hospital where she’s heard a lot of stories and handled a lot of cases that involved police investigations—can you blame an imaginative mind?).

Leo(?) is turning off the stove and Hilal watches him drain some pasta in a colander. He takes out two plates from the cupboard and expertly divides the pasta into two before pouring some white sauce onto the top. It smells really good and although Hilal knows pasta is one of the least difficult dishes to do, she has to admit that she’s impressed.

She's further impressed when the man bends over to take something out of the oven—a particular appliance that she just *knows* Ali Kemal never uses (not even for reheating pizza. She bets he uses his microwave for that.)

The smell of butter and the tell-tale scent of freshly baked bread hits her before the man places the tray on the kitchen island and Hilal sees that it is bread (bread!).

Who makes homemade garlic bread? Who has the time and the patience? But then again, the man looks like he could cook anyway, which again, somehow doesn’t surprise her. He looks like the type.

She watches him expertly arrange the food into the plates. The smile he does when he's satisfied with the look definitely doesn't (does) make Hilal’s glare falter. She fixes it back again when the man looks at her with a another smile.

Without missing a beat, he begins to put away the pans and utensils he used. He grabs two forks from a drawer and slides one of the plates towards Hilal. The smile on his face is relentless and she willfully ignores the wayward (but insistent) thought of how attractive he is.

“Pasta aglio e olio,” he says. “I didn’t know what you preferred, but I hope this is okay.”

She eyes the food for a short while before sighing and walking to the kitchen table. She is hungry after all, and the pasta looks *really* good. But she doesn’t sit down yet. “What’s your name again? And how do you know Ali Kemal?”

“I'm Leon,” he says and extends a hand for a handshake. She shakes it hesitantly, and she doesn't want to think about how big his hand looks in comparison to hers. “He’s my older brother,” he adds with another smile. He’s reaching for something behind him and takes a phone out. “I have proof.”

For a second, she thinks he’ll pull up their birth certificates to show her. An absurd thought, but he taps on the screen a few times and hands her the phone. He has to walk around the table just to do it, and Hilal can’t stop herself from noting he smells like garlic and a little bit woody (probably what’s left of his cologne). She hates it that the man smells nice despite just sauteing garlic. She hates it even more that she's picking up all these little things about him as if they were going to matter in the long run.

She mentally shakes her off of the thought (again) and looks at the screen. The first thing she is is Ali Kemal and Leon wearing hideous Christmas sweaters. Ali Kemal is wearing a green one with crocheted patterns of Christmas lights. Leon’s sweater is red with tiny dancing snowmen. Ali Kemal has the other man in a chokehold but both men have smiles on their faces.

“That was take last Christmas. My mom took it and sent me a copy just because,” he says for context. “Saved it because it's the first Christmas he came back home to in years.”

She just nods and swipes to sees a picture of them in tuxedos. They have pink roses pinned to their jackets and they were standing in front of a flower archway. There are chairs behind them with people in soft colors mingling about.

“Cousin's wedding. We both thought that the bride was too good for Alexei, but she keeps him civil at least. Again, my mother took the picture.” There’s a smile in his voice that prevents Hilal from commenting about the fact he’s sharing too much to a total stranger. He looks like he’s enjoying it and Hilal thinks it’s nice that their mother takes photos of them.

“I bet your mother's phone is just filled with pictures of the two of you,” Hilal finds herself saying.

Leon laughs. “Yeah, it is. Don't be surprised when she whips up a few baby photos when you meet her.”

She raises a brow at him and he clears his throat. “Well, she does that to people she's just met. That's just how she is.” He changes the subject by swiping the screen.

The next picture is of them as children. This picture manages to make her smile, as she recognizes a younger, baby-faced Ali Kemal. For all the time she's known him, Ali Kemal always maintained a thick beard. Even when Yildiz showed her pictures of the man during their college days, Ali Kemal already had a forming patch of hair lining his jaw and upper lip. But he never let it grow too big and keeps it as close to his skin as possible. (It is a little unhygienic for a paramedic to sport such a long beard anyway.)

She can also recognize Leon in the picture, although she has to look up and compare the faces she sees on the photo and under the kitchen light.

Ali Kemal and Leon don't seem to have striking similar features. Ali Kemal has a darker shade of brown that it’s almost black, while Leon had a lighter shade. It almost looks chestnut when he’s under direct light. Leon's nose is a little sharper, and Ali Kemal's eyes a little more hooded. Despite that, both share the same shade of brown eyes.

The differences in their appearance may not help the claim that they're brothers, but Hilal doesn't question it too much. After all, she had more differences than similarities with her own sister in terms of physical appearances.

Yildiz has the beautiful dark hair, the olive green eyes, the slim and tall physique which she got from their mother. Hilal has the chestnut brown hair, the blue eyes she got from their father and a slightly curvier and smaller physique.

What they lack in similarity of physical features, they make up for in attitude and virtues. They are both stubborn and passionate like their mother, but brave and unrelenting like their father. Maybe this is the case for Ali Kemal and Leon as well.

There's no way of finding out just yet, though. Yet, she still looks up at Leon expectedly, waiting for a little anecdote about why or who took the picture (she can guess it’s their mother again).

Leon chuckles at the picture. “Oh that,” he smiles even wider, showing off a subtle indent on his cheeks. *Dimples.* Of course he has dimples. Ali Kemal has them too. But damn.

“That picture has a funny story actually.”

It should. The picture of the brothers had them strewn on the floor. Ali Kemal lying on the floor with a chicken leg in hand, and Leon was lying on top of his brother with a chicken wing and an empty bucket of KFC worn like a hat. They were both staring at the photo as if the flash took them by surprise.

“Our dad came home with a bucket of chicken. He’d been away at the time and Ali Kemal and I just pounded on the bucket, completely ignored the parent we hadn’t seen in days.”

“How’d you to end up on the floor?” Hilal asks.

“I wanted the chicken leg but my brother wouldn’t let me have it. Naturally, we wrestled for it. Mom just decided to take a picture.”

Hilal doesn’t allow herself to laugh too hard, but she does laugh. The mental image of two boys fighting over a chicken leg is hilarious and it’s hard to picture someone as posh as Leon wrestling on the floor.

Before she can get carried away, Hilal hands the phone back to Leon who accepts with a satisfied smile. Hilal ignores it but is relieved the man is most likely who he says he is.

"Alright then," she says and crosses her arms against her chest. She's suddenly aware of the fact that she's not wearing a bra. "I hope you don't mind me asking about what you're doing here?"

Leon walks back to his place across from her. “I’m staying over for a while. I do that when I have to be in town.” He sits down and pauses as if mulling a thought over. “You don’t mind me digging into this? It’s going to get cold.”

She shakes her head and thinks about sitting down. No, she still has questions.

“You’re not from here?”

“No, I’m based elsewhere but I do have to drive down here sometimes.” He bites into the bread. “I don’t blame you for being suspicious though. I do have a habit of not foretelling my brother about coming over. He doesn’t check his phone a lot either—you know, being a paramedic and all. That’s why he gave me a spare key. I did message him when I got into town. He’s probably still on duty.”

Hilal hums. "When did you get here anyway?"

He checks his watch. "I drove into town roughly three hours ago. But I’ve been at this apartment for two. I had to go grocery shopping knowing my brother probably hadn’t stacked up again.”

Leon looks at her for a while. “Won’t you sit down? You might as well sit if you’re going to continue interrogating me. I can reheat the food later."

He gestures towards the seat again and this time Hilal takes it. The pasta does smell good and she still feels how sore her knees are from being on her feet for most of the past two days. She takes the fork by the plate and prods at the pasta.

Leon chuckles. "Relax, I didn't poison it or anything. I'm actually a pretty good cook." His smile falters. "Or you don't like pasta?"

"Pasta is fine," she says and twirls some pasta with her fork. "And saying you're a pretty good cook does not negate the possibility that you might have poisoned it."

"Oh come on, what do I have to gain from poisoning you? I barely know you."

"I barely know you either, yet here I am, risking my life to eat a meal you prepared."

"Yes, but I didn't think you were a hobo the first time I saw you on the couch. Can't you just eat? I’m hardly the first stranger to cook you a meal."

Hilal sighs and takes a bite. She doesn't mean to be difficult, really. There's something about this man that makes her wary. It's funny because she had this exact same feeling when she first met Ali Kemal. He was expressionless: his eyes deep and didn't betray any emotion. His mouth was firm and unsmiling. He just nodded and offered his hand when Yildiz introduced them, and he didn't talk to her the rest of the evening besides bid her good night when they left.

Meeting Leon is the exact opposite though. While Ali Kemal is more reserved, Leon is all smiles and accommodation. The man has shared more about his past than Ali Kemal ever has. She has to find out the man has a brother only when the said-brother makes himself known. She hasn’t even had a proper meal with Ali Kemal either.

The pasta is really good.

She doesn't want to give Leon that satisfaction however and just eats.

Leon seems to see right through her and he smiles triumphantly before turning to his plate. Again, she shouldn’t be finding this attractive. The man is only eating, for crying out loud.

"So, Ali Kemal tells me you're in medicine too?" Leon asks at some point. They haven't talked since Hilal started eating, and all noise was the clacking of their forks against the plate.

She nods. "Yes, I'm a nurse."

He hums and nods. "That's nice. Thank you for everything you've done so far."

Hilal just nods in acknowledgment. Her face heats a bit since she's not really used to that. (She's wrong. She receives thanks and expressions of gratitude very often, but imposter syndrome can be a bitch sometimes and won't let her bask in her genuine awesomeness.) She's aware of how underappreciated people in the medical field are and are often paid inappropriately for their services. It's good to know that some people, Leon included, can see their importance despite how much people would unconsciously rank professions and careers into some weird success hierarchy.

"I made you uncomfortable," Leon smiles sheepishly as if he actually did something to upset her.

"Oh no," she amends, and realizes she's been poking at her food. She sets her fork aside."On the contrary, thank you."

He clears his throat. "I actually dropped a pan by accident," he says. "I took a peek to see if I woke you, but you were out like a light. That must have been one hell of a shift."

She shrugs. “There was an accident on 5th Avenue and there were a lot of casualties. Our hospital had been the closest.”

He nods. “Yeah, I heard about that on the radio on my way here. I heard a few people died and almost everyone had serious injuries.”

“Yeah, the ER was completely full and the patients kept coming, it was all-hands on deck. My head nurse still forced me to go home today.”

“Well, the accident happened yesterday morning. That would mean you’ve been working since then?”

“Longer than that actually. I was just on my way out of my shift when the emergency was called in, and like I said, it was all-hands on deck. Every nurse and doctor on a day off was being called in to help.”

He clicks his tongue. "I'm surprised you've slept for how long you did. You should still be in bed."

She chuckles. "You get used to it. I'm actually lucky to have slept so long as I have."

He whistles. “As depressing as that sounds, it’s also kind of impressive,” he remarks.

“Thank you, it took me years to perfect.”

He chuckles at that and they both continue eating.

“So what do you do?” Hilal asks. “Besides doing the groceries for your older brother?”

He rolls his eyes. “Funny,” he says sardonically. “But no, I do not buy groceries for my older brother. I buy groceries for myself to eat when I’m here. But to answer your question, I’m a lawyer.”

“Hm,” she hums. “Your parents must be really proud to have their sons work in the medical field and law. You two are every parents’ dream sons.”

He scoffs. “Not exactly. Remember, Ali Kemal is the oldest and he’s a paramedic.”

She frowns. “What do you mean? Paramedics may not be doctors, but they help just as much.”

Leon makes a choking sound. “Sorry, I misspoke. I didn’t mean it that way. Of course, paramedics are first person responders and they do a lot to save people. Just a little context, my father is a lawyer. Naturally he wanted both his sons to get into law, but Ali Kemal didn’t want to give him that satisfaction. He said he wanted to do medicine instead and Dad was okay with it, even if did try to persuade my brother a few times at first. Only, Ali Kemal chose a community college and decided to become a paramedic instead of a doctor which he’d let Dad believe. Imagine how furious our dad was when he found out. He’s still holding onto the hope he’d get into med school eventually.”

Hilal hums. “And that’s what you meant by Ali Kemal being a paramedic.”

“Yes, in the context of him being the oldest son and therefore having certain expectations career-wise.“

She smiles, “And what about you? You wanted to get into law or did your father make sure you did after Ali Kemal?”

He shakes his head. “I wanted to get into law, which was a huge relief to our father. Only I didn’t want to follow my dad’s footsteps into corporate law.”

“Of course you didn't. What did you take then?”

"Civil rights," he says and Hilal laughs. "My father should have expected it though."

"What did he feel about that?"

Leon shrugs. "He was disappointed and he still feels like I'm wasting my talents when I get more pro bono cases than actual paid ones, but he can't deny it's what makes me happy. I like my job and I like that I get to give people a decent shot at justice in this shitty system."

She smiles. “Impressive. Though, you’re not just saying that because you’re trying to cover up that you’re actually a serial killer?”

Leon laughs heartily. “I’m starting to think you’re wishing I was.”

Hilal chuckles through her nose. “Until Ali Kemal physically acknowledges you as his brother, I’m on high alert.”

He just shrugs and continues to eat.

Hilal is quite impressed with the man—barring the possibility that he may not be who he says he is, because honestly, Hilal believes him to be Ali Kemal’s brother. She’s unwittingly playing a game, and Leon is letting her.

Besides that, she is right about the brothers being similar in different ways. There are gaping differences between Leon and his brother, and she didn't really expect much, but now it is evident that they are indeed similar in the fact that they cared. They care a lot about helping other people. It’s something that tickles her into knowing more.

"Allow me to thank you as well,” she says. “For fighting the good fight," she says and she receives a small smile in return. Hilal means it.

///

She sees the news, and she sees injustice playing out everyday at work when people come in with heavy bruises caused by hands that thought their skin is a little too dark. She sees it when kids are being rolled into the ER because their parents sees it entertaining to beat the shit out of them; or when women have to come in with blood gushing from between their legs in a botched self-attempted abortion; or even kids who are reluctantly brought in with slit wrists just because they can’t dress the way they want to.

///

A lot has to be done, yet people like Leon exist. It has to say something.

“Did I make you uncomfortable?” she asks, when she sees a bit of red shading the man’s ears.

Leon gives her a look. It’s a look that knows what she means, that acknowledges the things that she sees and knows. It’s a look that recognizes a kindred soul. It’s a look that makes Hilal warm all over.

“Not at all.”

#hileon #vatanim sensin #wounded love #fanfiction #hilal #leon #ao3 #hilal x leon #ao3fanfic #fanfic

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drneelima · 2 years

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#Female Gynaecologist in Mumbai #Gynecologist In Mumbai #Best Gynecologist And Obstetrician In Mumbai #Lady Gynecologist In Mumbai

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maybege · 3 years

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Birthday Party Adventures

Summary: With his daughter’s birthday party approaching, Paz has many plans to make it all go right. What he didn’t expect was for Emily to invite her teacher and his crush – you.

Pairing: single dad!Paz Vizsla x fem!teacher!Reader

Wordcount: 4.0k | Rating: T

Warnings: Modern AU, fluffy fluff

Oh I feel like it has been ages since I initially wrote this (back in September actually!) but I love it just as much as on the first day and I hope that you will enjoy it too! This is dedicated to my Paz Gang @aerynwrites @datmando @hdlynnslibrary @princessbatears and @stubbychaos who came up with this wonderful AU idea. ❤

masterlist | crossposted on AO3

Paz was overwhelmed.

Paz was truly and utterly overwhelmed.

“Can I go and get my cereal?” Emily asked next to him, clearly bored with her father’s antics, “You will take ages to choose, Uncle Din was right.”

“All right, go ahead,” he mumbled, choosing to ignore the fact that Din had – once again – infiltrated his daughter’s thoughts with horrible lies. He did not take ages. Anybody would take as long as he was taking when the choices were so … vast.

Cake mix after cake mix was displayed in the aisle and how would he know which one he should get?

Emily’s birthday was this weekend – Saturday to be exact and he had promised her a cake. He always promised her a cake. And he always failed.

But not this time.

This time, he had listened to his best friend and would settle on a cake mix although he still felt like he was cutting corners. But at least it would not be store-bought. And, as Fennec had suggested, he could still buy some decorations to make the cake special.

Because that’s what Emily deserved – a special cake, made with love.

So, while his daughter was probably trying to find the sweetest cereal there was available, he tried to settle on a cake.

Deep down, Paz knew that Emily was probably eating way too much sugar. But to be honest, there were so many battles he could fight at once and he was more prepared to fight some judgmental soccer moms than the will of his own daughter.

Holding two cake mixes in his hands – birthday confetti and chocolate – Paz whipped around as he heard an all too familiar voice greet him. “Mr Vizsla, it is so nice to see you.”

There you were.

The woman of his dreams.

Emily’s teacher.

Stars, he knew he was probably acting absolutely ridiculous around you. No matter what kind of school event there was, as one of Emily’s main teachers you were always around he was never able to take his eyes off you.

Not only were you pretty and smart but you were kind. You kept all the kids in check with a calmness that he admired you for and he could see how you valued each and every student in your class. And now you were here, wrapped in an oversized cardigan and clutching a shopping basket in your hands.

But you beamed at him and he was sure he’d never seen anything prettier.

Forgotten were the cake mixes in his hands as he lowered them to the sides of his body. “Hi, um, Miss –“

“Emily was mentioning you were having trouble choosing.”

“Em saw you?”

You chuckled, avoiding your eyes as if you were embarrassed, “I came over to say hello and she mentioned you needed help to choose a cake?”

Speak, for maker’s sake, speak! A voice in his head screamed at him but his brain was still processing the fact that (a) this was not a school event and (b) you were speaking to him, leading to (c) you were speaking to him in your own free time.

“Chocolate.”

“What?”

“I would go with chocolate,” you gestured to the box in his right hand, biting your lip and stars, he wanted to hold your hand and kiss your cheek and take walks through the park with you. Instead, here he was, making a fool of himself.

“I will trust your judgment, then,” he nodded, carefully putting the other box back on the shelf. When that was done, you kept standing there in front of him looking up at him expectantly. Why – why? – couldn’t he speak? It should not be this hard to open his mouth.

He just needed to say I think you are wonderful and I would like to get to know you more. Would you be interested in having dinner with me?

“Um, would you like to …”, his voice trailed off.

You did that lip-biting thing again and your whole face lit up and stars, maybe you wanted him to ask you. “Yes?”

“I was wondering if you would like to –“

“I know you said I wasn’t allowed the sweet ones but it’s my birthday soon,” Em announced loudly, dropping a box in the already full shopping cart and pouting at him, “Can I have it as an early present, pretty please?”

Mission: Ask Pretty Teacher Out For Dinner was immediately aborted and he swore he saw a look of disappointment flash across your face. At least that was something to give him hope.

“Dad always makes me a cake and he fails every year, it’s a tradition by now,” his daughter explained and he groaned inwardly, but then she had her thinking face on – the same she had as a toddler – and suddenly added, “You should bring one.”

“What?”

“Em, I don’t think your teacher has the time to …”

But Em, bless her soul, would not be deterred from her plan. By now he cursed the stubborn streak that ran through his family and had evidently taken root in his daughter as well.

“Dad always talks about how much he likes your raspberry chocolate crumble,” she shrugged, “And my classmates like it too.”

When would the ground open up and swallow him whole?

And the worst thing was: Em wasn’t even lying. She had her blunt honesty from him and the way he had gushed about that raspberry crumble had been unusual, especially for him. But it had also been unusually good. And the way you had smiled at him when he had taken a second serving had made his heart warm.

Now though, there were no words that could describe the embarrassment that flowed through him. He felt exposed in a way that he had not felt for a long time and being at anyone’s mercy – even if it was yours – was not something that he cherished.

“Well,” you started with a smile and looked at him, “If your dad won’t mind, I could certainly bring over a cake for your birthday party.”

“He won’t mind.”

“I won’t mind.”

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise and you smiled, genuinely smiled, at him. Paz’s breath caught in his throat. Stars, you were beautiful. Everything about you was just magnificent from the tips of your hair to your eyes, your nose, your lips, how you hugged your oversized cardigan closer to you.

“Great,” you nodded, “So … I will see you then?”

“My dad will text you the info,” Emily added, seemingly the only one who kept her cool at the situation.

You furrowed your brows in confusion, “Oh, but I don’t –“

“Dad, why don’t you give Miss Y/L/N your number?” Em brazenly suggested, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes that he knew all too well, “For adult stuff.”

He could feel his ears burn, could hear himself sputtering out words about how he did not want to be inappropriate and how this should be your decision and not Emily’s. And stars, he didn’t want to make advances towards you.

Well, he did.

He did want to flirt with you, wanted to compliment you on your kind eyes and your shining smile. But not like this. Not if it made you uncomfortable. And certainly not in the blaring lights of the grocery store aisle.

But before he could say anything more, before he could dig his hole deeper, you had your phone in your hands and were looking at him expectantly. And then he stumbled through his phone number, you nodding all the while and typing the numbers into a new contact.

“Great,” you smiled, “So – I will see you then?”

“Yes,” he murmured dumbly, “I will see you then.”

5:33 pm: Hi! This is Y/N 😊 Just wanted to say I’m really looking forward to Emily’s party this Saturday. Is there anything I should bring next to the crumble?

5:59 pm: Sorry, it just occurred to me that you probably only know me by my last name. I’m Emily’s teacher.

6:12 pm: Hello, this is Paz. Emily’s dad. You do not need to bring anything other than the cake and yourself.

7:43 pm: I am looking forward to seeing you too.

Saturday rolled around quicker than he had anticipated.

He had spent the week trying to make sure everything would be ready for Emily’s party (and your arrival) and that the apartment would be in tip-top shape to be destroyed by a bunch of kids.

He had spent almost all of Friday night wrapping presents when Emily was fast asleep only to be woken up at sunrise by his very energetic daughter who wanted to have some tasty pancakes from their favourite café around the corner.

He loved mornings like this.

Where it was just Em and him and they could enjoy their peace and quiet. Seeing her grow up was bliss and torture at the same time. He loved her, he was so proud of her and seeing her grow slowly but surely into a confident young woman was everything he’d ever wished for. But at the same time, it felt like time was slipping through his fingers. He wanted to catch these precious moments in his hands and never let them go.

This moment of calm did not last for long though, only for breakfast and until they were back in the apartment, preparing excitedly for the party that was to come.

Baking a cake was a disaster just like Emily had said it would be.

Maybe she had been right in saying that it was a tradition now. Maybe he really would not be able to bake a cake for her.

But now it was not only the cake. In less than an hour, 10 kids would swarm the way too small city apartment and he would need to prepare some food and why had he decided against ordering pizza and what if something went wrong?

And you would show up too, sometime, and he had wanted to change into something more appropriate for actually having a teacher (aka crush) over and being dressed in his flour-covered flannel shirt was certainly not it.

The doorbell rang just as the bowl of cake mix fell to the tiled floor. “Kriffing shit” he cursed trying to jump out of the cloud of grains just as he heard the tell-tale footsteps of Emily running to the door. “I got it!”

“No, Em, wait -!”

But it was too late. He had just caught himself on the doorframe when you stepped into the hallway, looking around curiously. You fit in so well, he thought instinctively, you could live here too.

“I’m a bit too early, I hope you don’t –“ you halted in your words, tilting your head at his flour-covered appearance, “mind.”

“I – I am so sorry,” he started, trying to dust off but only making it worse, “I was a bit in a hurry and I –“

“It’s all right,” you replied quickly, lifting the box in your hands lamely, “I brought cake.”

“I will take that,” Em decided, taking the cake off your hands and transporting it to the dinner table in the living room. But not without showing him the huge grin on her face.

“I’m sorry for the mess, I just …” he threw up his hands in defeat, desperation clear in his voice, as you followed him into the chaotic kitchen.

“No worries, we will manage that just fine.”

The way you said we made his heart beat faster and he stepped aside to make space for you.

The apartment Emily and he lived in was actually a miracle to find in such a big city and he still thanked the stars for the day when the landlord had decided to let him, a single father and his tiny daughter, move in. But for all its perks – the layout, the view, the small balcony that fit a small bench – the apartment had one single flaw: The kitchen.

It was a tiny kitchen with the counters wrapping around all three walls and leaving only the space free where the doorway was. And it was narrow. He had always cursed it, especially with his size, and more than once had he accidentally hit his head on a cabinet door that his daughter had left open.

And where it was small for one full-grown adult, it was a tight fit for two. Which made it even worse. Or better. Depending on how one viewed things.

You bumped against him constantly, his hands brushing accidentally against yours, one time almost smashing into you but only hitting your foreheads together. And you only ever giggled or smiled shyly at him, never ever stepping away from the closeness and it made his heart flutter in his chest.

Maybe – maybe you wanted that too.

While he was mixing the dough together under your careful eyes, you had started to slice some apples that he had found in the pantry. He threw a few glances your way, catching you looking at him too before smiling at you.

Stars, he really was behaving like a lovesick puppy, wasn’t he?

“You are pretty good at this,” he commented, nodding towards the cake that you had brought with you. You spooned a bit of cinnamon into the apple mix, before spreading the dough in the baking form he had found somewhere in a cabinet.

“It’s a hobby,” you shrugged your shoulders, “I was never good with finding new connections when I moved and I found that making good food helps people to talk to you.”

“I can’t imagine anyone not wanting to talk to you,” he blurted out, feeling his ears grow hot, “I mean because – you don’t need baking to be nice and I – fuck, wait, shit no, I don’t mean fuck, I – “

You laughed, full-on giggles escaping you as he sighed and rubbed his hand over his face. “I’m sorry, I imagined all of this differently.”

“How – how did you imagine it?” you asked quietly, stepping closer to him. Your eyes were so big now and you looked so hopeful and he could feel his heart skip a beat.

“Well, I wanted to look competent for once,” he stated, gesturing around the filled countertops, “And not forcing you to help me make up my mistakes.”

“You’re not forcing me to do anything,” you protested, biting your lip, “I – I like helping you and … spending time with you.”

“Dad, Alyssa is already on her way, are you sure want to cook? Is the cake even ready? I invited Isabelle and I don’t want her to think that I can’t –“

Apparently, he could not hide the misery on his face – when had he decided that it would be a good idea to not only bake a cake but cook for a hoard of hungry kids? – because you snorted next to him, clearly amused. Emily had crossed her arms in front of her chest, looking pleadingly up at him.

“Don’t worry, your father and I will make sure there will be enough cake to go around,” you reassured his daughter before looking at him, “Do you have a plan for dinner?”

“We could always order pizza,” Emily suggested, the hope in her eyes clear as she looked at him.

Stars, when would he ever be able to deny her anything?

“It’s true,” he chuckled, patting his daughter on her back, “We always end up with pizza anyway.”

So, while you and Em busied yourselves with putting the pie in the oven, he ordered pizza for everyone. (A few family-sized pizzas would be enough right?) And because he was feeling a little more confident, he also added a side of garlic bread and a bottle of wine to the order. Maybe you would like to stay if he could offer a glass of wine?

On his way back, he passed Emily on the way to the bathroom. “I will go get ready,” she announced loudly while also wildly gesturing towards the kitchen.

When he entered the small room, he could feel the heat of the oven already.

“It should be done soon if everything works as it should,” you announced and straightened up, “The kids definitely won’t starve.”

“I cannot thank you enough,” the relief in his voice was clear, “I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

“Then it is a good thing we won’t have to know,” you teased him and the mirth in your eyes made him want to kiss you so badly. And there it was again. That silent tension between the two of you.

This would be a good moment, he thought to himself as he slowly lowered his face towards yours, Emily was occupied getting ready, the pie was in the oven, you were alone with him and he could hear your breath hitch in your throat.

Delicate fingers closed around his wrist, pulling him closer and he could feel your breath on his face and just a little bit more and then –

Ring!

He flinched away from you, bashfully rubbing the back of his neck. “That’s probably Alyssa,” he whispered, avoiding your gaze.

Alyssa was dropped off by her mother. Her eyes fell to you, standing in the doorway of the kitchen, drying your hands on a towel and looking very much at home (he tried to ignore how warm that made him feel).

“Miss Y/L/N,” she greeted you, clearly caught off guard, “what a surprise to see you here, I didn’t know that Emily had invited you too.”

“Oh well you know …” you shrugged your shoulders and he could hear the wheels turning in your head, searching for a good excuse.

“My dad invited her,” Em announced smugly, her and Alyssa grinning from ear to ear.

The awkward silence between the adults would have been hilarious hadn’t he been a part of it. But what his brain decided to focus on the most was the fact that you had not denied it, you had simply smiled at Alyssa’s mom, made some small talk about the newest English project you had the kids working on, and remained standing next to him the whole time.

Paz was sure that his gazing at you was obvious to everyone present but he could not help himself.

One after another, the little guests trickled in, playing board games and eating your delicious cake in the living room. He helped Em set up the little karaoke game that she had gotten from Din last Christmas and excited cheers filled the room as they tried to look at the different song options.

Paz left them to their own devices, knowing that should anything go wrong, Em would come and get him.

But with the living room occupied, the only space left for him and you to be was the tiny kitchen.

“So … I, um, I helped you with the cake,” you started to shuffle, hands wringing in front of your belly, “I really don’t want to outstay my welcome and –“

“You could stay if you want,” he suggested, blood pumping in his veins, “I – I have ordered some wine and garlic bread if you’d like.”

And that’s how you ended up sitting next to him on the kitchen floor, your legs stretched out in front of you. He had to angle his legs a little, the space between the counters too small for him. But the closeness it provided to you was more than worth it. He fished two wine glasses from the shelf, handing them down to you before grabbing the bottle of wine.

There were no clean plates left so he spread the pizza carton out on both of your legs, the warmth of the food seeping into his thighs.

“To a successful birthday party,” you stated, carefully clinking your glass with his, “And to the very talented father who organized it all.”

“To the best baker out there,” he replied and the way you bit your lip made him smile.

He bit into the garlic bread heartily and his stomach grumbled satisfied.

“This is so good,” you moaned next to him, mouth still full and he grinned.

You ate in peaceful silence, munching on a few leftover slices of pizza that the kids had graciously left. With the warm glow from the kitchen lamps, he decided that birthday parties weren’t so bad when he had you there to enjoy it with.

When he looked at you, his gaze fell to a drop of red sauce that had found its place on the corner of your mouth. You tilted your head questioningly.

“You, uh,” he murmured, gesturing towards his face, “You got something there.”

When your hands missed it, his own rose up to your face. He swore he could hear your breath hitch as his thumb brushed over the tomato sauce, wiping it away.

But your face remained turned towards him, your lips slightly open and were you getting closer?

Was he reading the signs right? He didn’t even know. All he knew was he wanted to kiss you. Really. Truly. No matter how inappropriate it might be.

And with the karaoke in the background and a bunch of 10-year olds shrieking the lyrics to the newest chart, he bowed down his head and kissed you. Full on the mouth.

It was soft and gentle, both of you not moving an inch. But then his hand crept forward, gently framing your cheek and you gasped against him, your hands wrapping around his neck and pulling him closer and stars you were returning the kiss.

You tasted of wine and cake and you were soft, so soft, he loved every second of it.

Slowly, he started to move his lips, brushing his tongue on your bottom lip, pulling your closer and suddenly you were straddling him, his hands on your hips pulling your closer and his back against the counter and the screeching of some Jojo Siwa song in the background.

When he slowly pulled away, your bottom lip falling from his teeth, your chest was heaving from his kisses, your lips were swollen, and he wanted to pull you to him again. A smile tugged at his lips.

“Would you like to go out with me sometime?” he asked breathlessly, eyes searching for any indication that he had crossed a line. But you were still clinging to him, your hands wandering down to grasp at his forearms.

This. This would be what he dreamed about now. The smile on your lips, how your eyes shone in the low kitchen lights, how you kept touching him.

“I’d really like that,” you nodded, the small smile on your lips growing bigger by the seconds.

“Really?” he asked, his nose nudging against yours, “That’s – that’s great, how about tomorrow? We could go for a walk in the park?”

“A walk in the park sounds great,” you whispered against his lips and he dipped his head to kiss you again, just as slowly.

“Good,” he murmured.

“Good,” you repeated, your tongue mingling with his.

“Dad, do we have any more of that cake left, it’s actually really –“

In a panic, he almost threw you off him.

You were doing your best to right your cardigan as Emily entered the kitchen, eyeing both of you suspiciously.

“Sorry, what was that, Em?” he asked, swallowing hard and hoping to all the stars that she hadn’t seen him make out with you like a teenager.

“I was just wondering if you had any more cake left, I can’t believe it but it actually tastes good?!”

He laughed and gestured towards the counter, “there some more, you can take the tray to the living room, I – we will just clean up some more.”

“You know, I totally saw you two kissing, right?”

“Emily Vizsla!”

“What? It is not like I am going to scold you or anything,” and with her usual confidence, she swayed away, the cake in her hands.

“Well, you heard her,” he grinned, hands coming up to frame your face again, as he kneeled on the tiles, his lips descending yours, “It is not like she is going to scold us or anything …”

And with that, he kissed you again.

#maybege writes #paz vizsla x reader #paz vizsla x fem!reader

141 notes · View notes

volturiwolf · 3 years

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The Volturi Princess - A Felix Volturi x fem!Reader Story (part 5)

A/N: That is the second part I'm uploading at the same time as part 4 because it will probably take me a lot more time to upload the next parts.

No of Words: 4300+

Mentions of: Abandonment, Abortion, Anxiety, Blood, Bruises, Coma/Comatosed State, Death Emotional Abuse, Emotional and Physical Pain, Gaslighting, Greece/Greek Language - with translation, Heartbreak, Italian Language - with translation, Manipulation, Murder, Pain, Panic Attacks, Pregnancy, Suffering, Suicide/Suicidal Thoughts, Swear Language, Throwing Up/Puking, Witches/Wizards/Witchcraft

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“The Volturi Princess ” Tag List (reply if you want to be tagged or removed):

@felixvolturisprincess @singerj2002 @mrtony-stank1 @ikissedthescarsonherskin @alecvolturiswifeforever @hshehdyhd @kpopgirlbtssvt @eunoia-kth @iilsenewman

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Felix’s POV:

It’s been about seven months since I woke up and (Y/N) fell asleep - I refused to acknowledge that she may not wake up. I preferred to tell myself that she was taking a long nap, just as she used to do before she left Volterra. I was telling myself again and again that she was sleeping, so much so that I almost started believing it.

When (Y/N) sacrificed her blood to save me, I couldn’t stop myself from almost draining her before Chelsea finally managed to take her away from me. When I realized that it was (Y/N)’s blood the one I consumed, I staggered back and forth as if I was trying to wake up from a bad dream. Her blood always “spoke” to me - la mia cantante - and when I got the chance to taste her, I couldn’t stop myself.

Now, she was in a comatose state, pale and weakened. She was still held in the dungeons, although she was taken care of, due to her current state. Chelsea informed me regarding what happened when I was unconscious.

(Y/N) was the one who carried me all the way back to Volterra, and she was forced to spend her time in the dungeons as a punishment for her “recklessness”, and Afton and Chelsea were guarding her. She was only allowed human food, which, of course, would have weakened her body!

Even as a part-vampire, part-human, she still needed blood to survive, to keep her strong. But, I guessed that was exactly what Aro would want to avoid; he wanted to keep her weak and powerless.

I tried once to force her to drink blood that I collected from some humans but she wouldn’t keep the blood in her mouth, let alone swallow it down. So, that plan was aborted and I couldn’t think of any other way to help her.

It had been a few days since I had last seen her. Aro forbade me from seeing her until Carlisle arrived, and even then, there was only a slight possibility I would be allowed to visit her. All I could do was wait.

Yet again, I thought it was unfair for (Y/N) to get punished. It wasn’t her who attacked me, it was her father. But it was only clear that Aro didn’t care as much about my physical state, as he cared about punishing (Y/N) for leaving Volterra, traveling the world, and finding her parents.

If it wasn’t for Aro and the obligation I felt towards him and the rest of the Volturi for taking me in and turning me into a vampire, I swear I would gladly take (Y/N) away from here. I couldn’t abandon my friends though, and I knew none of them would be willing to come with me. They had all built their loyalty towards the Kings due to Chelsea’s gifts, and Chelsea was pleased with this life due to Corin’s gift.

It was basically a cycle, where they all depended on the two of them to keep the balance and the bonds within the members of the coven. And, as much as I didn’t want to admit it, though my mate bond with (Y/N) was strong and powerful, I felt my bond with the coven and the Kings being reinforced day after day.

Days and nights were passing with no news from (Y/N) or the Twins. I was spending most of my time in my room, as there was nothing to do in particular - there was no new mission and everyone else seemed to be engaged in their own thing. Apart from Chelsea and Demetri who took care of (Y/N) or visited me to make sure I was okay, nothing seemed to have changed for everyone else.

A knock on the door broke the silence. Demetri. He came into my room without waiting for a response, which was not always something he did. His face seemed anxious, and I knew something was going on.

“They are here” was the only thing he managed to say before I jumped out of the bed and passed by him quickly, running out of the door, towards the dungeons. I was met with the Twins standing outside of (Y/N)’s temporary room. Carlisle was in the room with (Y/N) and Chelsea. I wanted to go in, to make sure he took care of my love, but the Twins stopped me in my tracks.

“We don’t know what will happen yet. Don’t go in there.” Jane spoke first. “We talked to Carlisle about her situation. He’ll try to do whatever he can.”

“You know that’s not enough.” I growled at her.

“It’s the best we have. Now, Felix, stay back or I will take away all of your senses until Carlisle leaves.” Alec warned me and the only thing I could do at the moment was to be quiet and wait for the doctor to inform us of (Y/N)’s situation. I could clearly hear them from the inside of her room.

“She has lost a lot of blood. How long has she been like this?” Carlisle asked Chelsea.

“About seven months now. We waited almost a month, just to see if she would wake up before Aro sent the Twins to come to find you.” Chelsea informed him.

“I see. Well, her heart is quite weakened. Was she..you know..physically capable before..the incident? Did she feed?” I knew Carlisle was implying if she was able to consume blood before she gave hers for me.

“No.” Chelsea sounded saddened. “She was “serving” her penalty. Aro would only allow us to serve her human food. She was already getting weak before that, and when Felix was unconscious, she was getting worse. I could feel their bond getting all over the place, and I consulted Marcus. He said that for (Y/N), knowing Felix wasn’t okay, was probably why she was draining, mentally and physically.”

I knew the bond was strong between mates, but I didn’t know it could have such an effect on (Y/N). I knew that Marcus was a total wreck from the moment he lost Didyme, but I had no idea how much it would affect (Y/N) in such a short period of time.

“We’ll have to fill her with blood. Have you tried feeding her somehow?”

“Felix has tried quite a few times to force her to feed but she couldn’t swallow the blood. It would fall right out of her mouth.”

“Right.” Carlisle sighed. “I’ll try to do something else, though I don’t know if it will work for her. As much as I don’t agree, I will need you to find me some humans. I will try to transfuse their blood to her. I will need some alcohol to sterile everything, some cotton, some needles, and some tubes. Could you find me some, Chelsea?”

“Yes, I will inform the Kings and the others as well.” Chelsea exited the room. “Demetri, can you stay with (Y/N)? Help Carlisle with whatever he needs. Jane, Alec, will you come with me, please? We have to inform Heidi as well.” The Twins nodded and they all ran upstairs, while Demetri entered (Y/N)’s room and closed the door behind him, leaving me outside, waiting.

It took some time, though not too long in vampire standards, for Chelsea and the Twins to come back with everything Carlisle needed. Santiago and Afton followed close behind, each one of them carrying two unconscious humans on their shoulders. They all entered (Y/N)’s room and then Santiago and Afton left.

I heard the alcohol rubbing against (Y/N)’s skin and then a human’s. I heard the needles piercing through their skin and then I smelled the blood. It was warm and welcoming, and I heard the vampires in their room trying to control their thirst; all except Carlisle, who had been training himself for years to abstain from human blood. He wanted to help people, something which I never quite understood, until now. Now, he was the only one who could help (Y/N).

A few moments passed in total silence.

“She seems to be reacting well enough to it. If it was any other human, they may have been dead by now.” I felt the general confusion in the room, just as much as Carlisle did.

“If it was any other human, we would have to test their blood type and the donor’s blood type, to see if they match. Unfortunately, there is no such method yet, to efficiently test this. So, it is a 50-50 chance that the patient receiving the blood may or may not die because of being the wrong match with the donor. However, (Y/N)’s body may be treating the blood solely as food, so it may not affect her in that way. However, she should be well-fed. The fact that she’s becoming better now cannot guarantee that she will wake up, but, at least, it will give her a boost of energy. Then, it all depends on her. I may have to stay a few days with her to see her progress if you don’t mind”.

“Of course, Carlisle, you’re welcome to stay as long as needed.” Jane took it upon her to reply. “I will inform the Masters but I think they’ll have no issue with that.”

“Thank you, Jane. I’ll now have to switch needles for the next transfusion. Let me know when the next..supplies will arrive.”

Carlisle certainly didn’t like the way we saw humans, as mere food, disposable, but that was our nature and we couldn’t go against it. Although Carlisle, feeding exclusively on animal blood, still seemed strong, capable, with a clear mind, and way better self-control than any of us did. Though, by now, we could control our thirst pretty well and only fed when we wanted, though it still wasn’t as easy to stand close to humans, as it was for him.

In my whole life, I have never craved a human’s blood as much as I have (Y/N)’s, but our bond would not let me feed off of her; I felt sick at the mere thought of hurting her. And yet, here we were, not knowing if (Y/N) will wake up or not. I only blamed myself and my nature, though I couldn’t change what I was, what I was turned into. I could only hope that (Y/N) would eventually wake up.

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Days were passing by, excruciatingly slow. I had nothing to do to keep my mind off of her, so I tried to spend most of my time outside of Volterra, in the woods, hunting or just running around to make the time pass as quickly as possible. Yet, it did not seem effective at all; I was left alone with my own thoughts, and (Y/N) was in all of them.

I struggled to remember my time in Greece when I saw her after all this time; my head was pounding every time I attempted to figure out what happened then. I could only vaguely remember when I asked her to go back home and then I passed out. Other than that, nothing but a blur. As if my memories were wiped or my brain was messed up with.

Carlisle stayed by (Y/N)’s side the majority of the time he was spending here, except for the few times he had to hunt or when he was invited by the Masters to discuss - we assumed their conversations included (Y/N)’s state, as well as his life and how he has been all these years, living as a “vegetarian” vampire, a term he used when comparing his diet to a vampire’s “regular” human blood-based one.

I still don’t know how he managed to survive and actually thrive on it, but I knew (Y/N) also started practicing this type of diet during and after Carlisle’s departure from Volterra all these years ago. She wouldn’t feed with us; if she was in the castle, she would eat human food, claiming she had “already satisfied her blood needs”. In reality, I did catch her hunting animals once or twice before, when I went out hunting humans, but I didn’t care about her diet; I wouldn’t judge her, as long as she was happy and healthy.

The absence of blood from her diet in general - courtesy of Aro, as her punishment - has deeply affected and weakened her. Thankfully, Carlisle’s presence forced Aro to follow his orders and allow (Y/N) to access blood. Carlisle must have gone through over 30 or 40 people during the period of a week, constantly transfusing blood to (Y/N), only leaving about 2 to 3 hours between each transfusion, to ensure her body acted positively and effectively to the blood fed to her.

I was helping along with Santiago and Afton to transfer the unconscious humans down to the dungeons; Heidi was attracting them as per usual, and sometimes, Demetri and I would go hunt them down at night, where most humans would be asleep.

It wasn’t an easy job - many humans had been infected by many different diseases, so their blood was also infected. Carlisle instructed us that the humans should be as “clean” and healthy as possible, as (Y/N)’s body would most likely not be able to fight a disease at that point. Usually, as vampires, we wouldn’t be affected by that; sure, the blood tasted pretty bad, but we could still consume it.

In (Y/N)’s case, Carlisle was treating her body like a human’s - fragile, mortal, disposable. The simplest bacteria could be fatal for her life at this point, so we could only hunt for humans where we knew the living conditions were a bit better than the general consensus.

I was currently sitting on a chair, at the furthest point of the library, going through some books (Y/N) used to love reading. Among others, it was Aristotle’s De Animalibus; Lascaris’ Grammatica Graeca, sive compendium octo orationis partium; Petrarcha’s Il Canzoniere; and Shakespeare's “First Folio”.

I always had trouble studying in Greek - or any other language, if I’m being honest, but both Demetri and (Y/N) attempted to help me multiple times. I had trouble studying with Demetri because he wasn’t (Y/N), and I had trouble studying with (Y/N) because she was herself; I couldn’t concentrate on studying when she was near me.

I missed that feeling. I just wished I could relive these moments when she was so close to me, I could practically feel her warmth. Truth be told, I always attempted to flirt with her, to come closer, to see if she could feel our bond, but she always dismissed my attempts.

“How are you holding on, my boy?” I didn’t realize someone was standing behind me, so I was startled. I turned around to see Marcus, his constantly sad face replaced by a worried look. “I know that you feel lost right now, I can sense it.” I couldn’t open my mouth to reply, I just looked down at my feet.

“I know how you feel. I, too, have been feeling like this for a long time now; lost, desperate, unable to do anything. When I lost my Didyme, I basically lost my whole world, my mind, my heart, my will to live. I’ve been wandering this planet aimlessly. Without her, nothing in this world ever made sense to me; she was the one who gave meaning to everything. I joined Aro because of her, and after she was gone, I was trapped in his ambitious plans and was never able to escape him. He wants me alive to help him in his causes, but all I want is my Didyme back.”

Marcus never spoke of his and Didyme’s relationship to anyone - it just hurt him too much to remember her.

“I should have saved her. We shouldn’t have told anyone we wanted to leave the Volturi. Sometimes, I can’t help but think that it was Aro behind everything, behind her death, behind me getting trapped here. I cannot prove it though, and I also don’t even want to think that he could do something so evil, so abominable as to kill his own sister because she...we wouldn’t agree with his plans.” Marcus looked skeptical and desperate; saying all these things that he had buried deep inside him for so long must have been painful for him.

I couldn’t help but think what could happen if (Y/N) never actually recovered. I would never recover from it either. I have already created an “unofficial” plan - I would actually abandon Volterra forever, I would try to take my own life, and if that didn’t work, I already knew plenty of enemies the Volturi have made over the years. They would “take care” of me, and I wouldn’t resist - I wouldn’t have a reason to exist, a reason to fight for.

“When the time comes for her to wake up, don’t waste any time. Nothing would matter without her, so don’t waste any time away from her. You both wasted a lot of time, not admitting your feelings to each other. Better start now, before it’s too late.”

And with that, Marcus turned and ran out of the library, leaving me in my own thoughts. I had to see her, right now. Without really thinking about it, I ran out of the library and towards the dungeons. I saw Afton guarding her door, and I heard Chelsea and Carlisle inside her room. Her heartbeat was a bit stronger compared to a few months ago, but still weaker than her usual heartbeat, which used to echo in a castle full of vampires.

I went towards the door, but Afton stopped me. “She just had her last transfusion for the day. Let her rest. You shouldn’t be here anyway.”

“I have to see my mate. You all have been keeping me in the dark all this time. I HAVE TO SEE HER NOW!” I demanded and pushed the door open, Afton not being able to stop me. Chelsea and Carlisle turned towards me. “I have to see her. Please.” They looked at each other and nodded at me.

“We will leave you two alone. Just be careful and gentle. Her body is still weak and fragile, so no screams from now on, okay?” Carlisle acted like the father she never really had. I whispered a small “okay”, and Chelsea and Carlisle left the room quietly.

I was finally left alone with her. I haven’t seen her in over a month, since Carlisle came to Volterra, and I haven’t been alone with her once, since before she left Volterra. I actually missed her so much, seeing her, talking with her. She had a brilliant mind, the result of eons of studying and reading books. I couldn’t bear seeing her like that, comatose, emotionless, weak - she wasn’t the (Y/N) I knew. She was what her parents and Aro made her be - weak, helpless, a pawn to their plans. I wanted to talk to her, even if she couldn’t hear me.

“Hey, amore mio, it’s me, Felix.” My voice was trembling. “I came to see you, I missed you so much, Principessa (princess). I wish I could hold you in my arms right now, but I’m afraid I would break you. I wish you would wake up, I wish I could see your beautiful eyes again. I wish I had told you how much I love you, how I have been loving you all these centuries that I’ve been here.”

I paused a bit. “I wish I could tell you that all I remember from my human life is when you found me and brought me here and that all I ever think about is about you. I don’t want to lose you. I wasted too much time away from you. When I had so many chances to be with you, I was afraid, I was scared I was never good enough for you. You deserve better than me, you deserve the world. You are full of potential and I never wanted you to waste your life away with me. I wanted you to be happy and free because I love you. I would never think of restricting you, of forcing you to stay here with me, if that wasn’t what you wanted, so I let you go. I wanted you to see the world that fascinated you so much. I wanted you to experience everything. Even if that meant you were away from me; even if that meant you would never come back.”

I took an unnecessary breath. “I wish you would protect yourself first; I didn’t want you to sacrifice your life for me. You are too precious for me to lose you. And I’m afraid I may be too late, but..I wanted you to know that it’s always been you, everything I did was for you. It wasn’t Chelsea’s gift or my devotion to the Kings that kept me here. It was you, I wanted to be with you, stay with you, protect you. You gave meaning to my meaningless, cold life. You made me see life from a different perspective, you made me see that life it’s worth living and fighting for if I have you by my side. Please, come back to me.”

My eyes were stinking with venom at this point; (Y/N)’s heart beat a bit faster than before; her skin shined a bit more than before. I smiled at her peaceful figure before I captured her face within my palms. I leaned forwards and placed a tender and passionate kiss on her lips.

----------------------------------------------------------

(Y/N)’s POV:

I’ve felt like I’ve been living in the dark for quite some time now. I had no sense of where I was or how long I’ve been here - I stopped hearing voices, it was just the ultimate silence; a darkness I couldn’t see through, and a silence I couldn’t scream to. I didn’t even know how much time passed before I started hearing voices again. Was that Carlisle? And Chelsea? Chelsea actually stayed with me? After some time, I started feeling warmth and I could hear faint heartbeats, apart from my own.

Then, one day, Felix came to see me. I couldn’t see him or talk to him yet, but I could recognize him by his scent - to me, he always smelled like pinewood, sandalwood, cinnamon, and amber; his scent intoxicating and welcoming, it always gave me a sense of comfort and belonging.

He didn’t sit beside me on the bed. I could feel him standing beside the bed. His voice was trembling, though it sounded soft and caring. He told me all the things that I waited for centuries for him to say; to tell me that he loved me, just as I loved him all this time.

I felt something inside me break, something that kept me trapped here, and I felt my soul being lifted. I felt my heart beating faster, I felt like I could breathe, the weights that held me down being lifted off of me.

And then, he kissed me. It wasn’t like the small kiss he gave me last time; this kiss was full of passion and love, a kiss that could tell more than any word could ever do. I felt my soul reaching the surface, as I kissed him back, cupping his cheek with my hand. He stopped kissing me, and I opened my eyes, shedding tears that I kept inside for so long.

Felix was in shock, his face a few centimeters away from mine. I looked at him lovingly, as I stretched my hands to kiss him once again. He kissed me back, his hands settling on my waist, slowly lifting me off the bed and twirling me around, the bedsheets falling off of me. My heart beat faster than before, faster than it had ever had.

We were lost in our own world, his hands tightly hugging me, keeping me close to him. I finally was where my heart belonged. Our lips parted and I couldn’t stop staring deep into his black eyes, eyes full of love and lust. We stayed like this for a few minutes; Felix didn’t set me down just yet.

We heard the door open. There stood a shocked Demetri and an even more shocked Chelsea, followed by a shocked Jane and a shocked Alec. Felix finally set me down, and we turned to look at the four shocked vampires. I didn’t know it was possible for vampires to go into shock mode until I saw five in a span of a few minutes apart.

Chelsea was the first to come up to me and hug me tightly, followed by an even more enthusiastic Jane. Demetri and Alec waited for their turn and hugged me tightly, never letting me go. Thank Dia, I was partially a vampire, otherwise, they would literally crush my bones. Finally, they let me go but couldn’t keep their eyes off me, as if I would disappear in front of them if they didn’t. They pretty much couldn’t keep that thought off their minds.

“Guys, I’m not going anywhere. You can be sure about that.” I reassured each of them, smiling widely. “I understand you are all really concerned, but I'm okay now and I’m not going anywhere. I will not leave you.” I turned, looking up at Felix and smiling at him, him smiling back at me. I knew where my heart was now, and I would never let go of him.

#felix volturi #twilight imagine #felix volturi x reader #volturi #twilight #twilight renessaince #twilight post #demetri volturi #alec volturi #jane volturi #the cullens #the denali coven

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quirklessidiot · 4 years

Text

Title: coward :: old friends Pairing: Y/N x Miya Atsumu Genre: angst, romance, and very slow burn [ex to lovers au] Warnings: Cursing, alchohol, mentions of unprotected sex, unplanned pregnancy, and mentions of abortion

Synopsis: Your kids openly hate Miya Atsumu and the appearance of an old friend stirs up mischief and unwanted memories of the past. [ft. aomine daiki from knb] notes:

i probably cant stress this enough but thank you so much for all the love T-T it means a lot <3 like 118 followers in a span of two weeks? That’s just shhddhbdbx anyways i hope enjoy another buttload of angst! remember to always stay safe and wash ur hands!!

i find it funny when people point out atsumu to be a player or a fuckboy because this guy looks like a one-woman (or no woman lets be honest) type of person, his whole personality revolves around volleyball i guess and being straightforward to everyone with an idgaf attitude ksksks

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“You haven’t even wiped your sweaty backs and you both think you’re good to go?” you narrowed your eyes at the two boys who sheepishly gave you a smile as you lightly scolded them for not taking care of their health, the boys had decided to join a mini sports club after class where you could play for an hour any sport you’d like in the gym. They had promised it wouldn’t affect their studies.

Bending down to their level, you signal them to turn around. The pair furrows their brows, not wanting to be coddled by you in public, when you noticed that they were about to complain, you cocked a brow at their actions and tighten your lips. Begrudgingly they slowly turned around, not wanting a lecture from you.

You first wiped Yuuto’s back and handed him a t-shirt he could change on. As you were wiping Youta’s back with another towel, he suddenly spoke out, “Kaasan, that Atsumu-guy’s looking at you again.” he frowns.

Yes, apparently Miya Atsumu had the time to lounge around at a kids sports club and accompany his friend Hinata who would occasionally be there to help around because he was bored and they were ordered to rest (judging from your past conversations with Hinata these days, you noticed that the young man did not know the meaning of what resting was).

You thought that the little scene at your workplace would be the last time you saw him but these past days, you saw him a lot. It seemed to be getting too frequent to the point where you wondered if it could even be called a coincidence at all, “Do you want me to spike at him, kaasan?” the oldest twin asks as he turns to you, a small pout on his lips.

“Now, now, do you remember the story I told you about the bully last night?”

“Don’t throw stuff at people?” He blinks innocently.

You let out a soft and gentle laugh, the one only reserved for your boys, “Yes, Yo-chan. Don’t throw stuff at people.” you leaned in to give him a peck on his nose in which he immediately moved away and wrinkled his forehead in disgust.

“Stop doing that, kaasan. I’m a big kid already!”

“Hai, hai.” You patted his head and stood up while handed him his t-shirt, “Hurry along and change now, you big baby.”

Atsumu watches the bizarre interaction from afar, he’s never seen you this soft in public. Even when you were dating back then, the most public display of affection you two would have when you were dating was just you playing with his fingers and drawing small circles on his thighs unknowingly under the table (save for that one time where you wiped blood off his nose in public but then again you guys weren’t dating that time so that didn’t count) yet seeing you laughing, wiping the sweat out of the little boys back, and even giving a small peck on his nose was a very different sight to behold.

Daresay, it suited you.

“You’ve been staring at her for quite some time, Miya-san.” Sugawara comments as he puts the last grade-school volleyball on the cart. Atsumu jumps on the spot and rubs the back of his head nervously making Sugawara laugh in reply, “Funny, isn’t it? Whenever I talk to L/N-san, she’s always like ‘okay.’, ‘that’s nice.’, ‘good.’ yet when she’s with the kids, she’s the softest person ever.”

“Yeah…” The blonde mutters, “definitely funny.”

“Heard from Hinata that you and L/N-san used to be together back in college.”

That damn orange haired snake-

“Yeah, two years.” Atsumu clears his throat, “We, we fell out of love though.”

‘You fell out of love.’ he corrects in his head.

“Oho,Fates a fickle huh? Anyways, Me and Hinata are actually planning on inviting Y/N and the boys for dinner, do you want to come with us?”

“I have a girlfriend.” he replies in defense.

Sugawara looks at him, completely baffled by his reply then immediately bursts out into laughter, “I doubt Y/N would care, really…” He paused, “No offense.”

“None taken.” the blonde deadpanned.

You don’t know why you ended up at a chinese restaurant that night with one kid animatedly chatting Hinata Shoyou’s ear off while the other was openly glaring at Miya Atsumu, “Youta please swallow your food before talking.” you frowned, taking a napkin to wipe the rice off the mouth of the younger twin.

The blonde kept glancing at you but whenever he did, he’d receive a very harsh glare from Yuuto, “Hey watch where you’re looking at, jiji.” Yuuto suddenly spat out loud, catching him in the act this time as he stabs his chicken with a fork.

Sugawara sweat drops at the interaction unfolding in front of him while you try to tell your oldest son to be more kind to the man sitting in front of him, “Yeah. Listen to your mom, brat.” Atsumu frowns, in which the child retaliates with a tongue out.

“Yuuto, eat your food and stop disturbing Miya-san.”

Yet their stare-off seemed to continue as soon as you turned away from the pair and Sugawara had to intervene before Yuuto would pounce at the professional volleyball player across the table, “You should be nicer to him, Yuuto-kun. You want to be a setter right? He’s a better setter than I am.” Sugawara tries to ease off the tension between the two.

“He’s not,” Yuuto frowns, “I don’t even know why Kaasan says you’re the best setter in the whole wide world, Adler’s Kageyama Tobio’s obviously better!”

You feel yourself freeze up at Yuuto’s innocent babble, Atsumu seems to be taken aback by it too but he immediately regains himself, “Your mom’s got taste that’s all.” He leered at the six year old boy, not daring to back down from the brat’s challenge. Sugawara pales when the tension rises even higher and tries to get Hinata to ease it up but the orange-haired is too engaged into the conversation with the other twin.

“Baby, just eat your veggies and stop disturbing Miya-san.” You snap back to your senses as you evenly try to get him to calm down once again but he refuses, another trait he got from his father.

“Hey troll, the jiji won’t stop staring at kaasan!” he calls for his twin, trying to get him to back him up, “I told ya he was a crackhead!”

Your eyes widen at your son’s attitude and his uncouth table manners, “L/N Yuuto, that’s it!” You suddenly raise your voice, Yuuto’s scowl deepens as he crosses his arms. Everyone in the table turns silent by your outburst.

Anger, Miya Atsumu realizes how many different emotions you manage to muster out today. It was a lot more than what he had experienced with you, he’d usually take these emotions by crumbs back then since it was rare but it seemed that these boys had it easy with you. You were so open to them, so vulnerable.

“We’re going home right this instant after you apologize to Miya-san.”

“I don’t wanna.”

“Yuuto…”

“Y/N, it’s alright-” Atsumu tries to ease up the kid's burden, suddenly feeling bad since it was his fault in the first place and the kid was probably just trying to protect you.

“I said I don’t wanna!” The oldest twin immediately stands up and runs away, you grab your youngest son by the hand who was sadly saying goodbye to his idol as you placed the payment for your meal on the table.

“He’s not usually like this.” You bowed your head, “Sorry Miya-san, I really am.”

He watches you dash away to the direction where your younger son ran off to, Youta trailing behind you as he waved goodbye to his two favorite men and a tongue out to Miya Atsumu, signaling that he too, like his brother, hated him.

“Way to go, atsumu-san” Hinata grimaced, openly judging him for picking a fight with a kid as he munched on his sweet and sour pork.

Later that same evening, you stood outside your sons room, regretting how you handled the situation. Of course, Yuuto was wrong to say that but you should’ve been more mindful with your tone and words. You were their mother and an adult for crying out loud!

“Yuuto?” You knock on the twins shared room, “Baby? Would you mind opening the door for a sec?”

“Kaasan, Yuuto says he don’t wanna!” Youta replies in his older brother's stead.

“Okay,” You calmly reply, expecting that, “Then can you tell Yu-chan that there's a glass of milk on the counter? I know he wants to drink some after that heavy dinner.”

“He says big boys don’t need milk, kaasan…” Youta paused, “But he says he’ll drink it later since we shouldn’t throw food.”

“Okay, goodnight boys.”

You slowly head to the couch and lay there, basking in the silence of your apartment and waiting for your son to come out of his room to be ready to talk. As you hear the door creak open, you see Yuuto slowly waddle his way towards the table where his milk was on, “Yu-chan? Can we talk?” you ask, your voice is soft as you slowly made your way to the oldest twin, bending down to his level so you could see him eye to eye, “Oh, baby...Kaasan is so, so, sorry…” You apologized, taking his small hands and resting your head on top of it.

“I don’t like yelling.”

“I know.”

“I had to protect ‘kaasan,” he frowns, his nose wrinkling, “He was looking at you badly.”

“Kaasan deserved it.”

“No one deserves to look at you badly, kaasan!” he exclaims, “You’re the bestest, kindest person in the whole wide world!”

You wondered if they’d still say that when they’d find out you were lying to them about how their father was just right in front of them tonight.

“ ‘Kaasan had hurt miya-san really bad before,” You try to explain to your son in words he could understand and digest as you run your hands through his silky black hair, “That’s why he’s like that…”

“B-But…” he tries to stammer out an explanation but you cut him off with a kiss on his cheek.

“You’ll understand what ‘kaasan means when you’re older,” you smile, slowly standing up and handing him his glass of milk, “Sometimes we hurt people really bad that even saying sorry can’t fix it.”

“W-was it really bad, ‘kaasan?” the boy asks, taking the milk to his small hands and drinking it slowly whilst trying to discern what you were saying. After placing the glass down, he asks, “Did you break his favorite toy or something?”

“Mhm,” You hummed, picking him up as he stifled a yawn and slowly nuzzled on your neck,“ ‘Kaasan broke something so important, she couldn’t fix it with just saying sorry.”

“Babygirl, aren’t you looking better these days?”

“You call me that one more time and I swear I’m disemboweling you.” You deadpanned, meeting his dark eyes. Aomine Daiki lets out a boisterous laugh right after when he sees your blank expression, “Still the same as ever, Y/N-chan, you really love breakin’ my heart.” he teased, clutching his heart in fake pain.

“Tch,” You clicked your tongue at the tall basketball player, “Tell that to the women you play around with.”

“I take it the boys are at school today?”

“They begged me to skip it since they heard you were back in japan.” You replied, recalling the twins fake sickness this morning just so that they could see the navy blue-haired giant.

“I’m surprised you even took the time off to see little ol’ me.”

“Don’t kid yourself.”

“Hn,” He hummed, leaning in closely as he rested his head on his palm, “I got news by the way, I was at our hometown and I bumped into obaasan.”

You cross your legs and lean back on the chair, the mere mention of your mother had you automatically on edge and annoyed.

“What did she say?”

“She asked me a favor,” He shrugged, taking in a sip of his banana milk, “Says that she wants to meet up with you… She mentions that ojisan’s gonna make time too, I think they’re going to try to make amends with you.”

“That’s nice.” You dryly remarked, clearly you didn’t care about their apology or their willingness to ‘talk’ it out.

“Don’t shoot the messenger,” Daiki frowns, raising his hands in reply, “And judging by the look on your face, you’re not going to see them?”

Flashes of your childhood and the event that transpired six years ago wormed its way back to your head, it had been so long but its had severely affected and haunted you to this day, “I don’t think I’d ever want my kids near them, who knows what they’ll say around them.” you responded truthfully.

Daiki’s gaze turned soft as he noticed how tightly you were holding the coffee cup, “You got overtime again, right? How about I’ll take care of the boys in the meantime? You know how much they love the huge fridge and pachinko machine in my apartment... I’m also sure they miss their favorite ojisan.”

“Just make sure you hide your porno magazines.”

“That was one time, Y/N.”

You and Aomine Daiki go way back the tall boy lived right across your house and had been your companion since you were the tender age of six. He knew what went around your house, why you were so quiet and expressionless most of the time. At some point, the tall man tried to cross the line of friends to lover but he was only met with the very familiar blank gaze and harsh words of, “I don’t think I’ll ever see you that way.”

The man had no choice but to accept the scraps he was given, he couldn’t really blame you though. After the messed-up emotional trauma you experienced growing up, he knew you wanted nothing to do with the idea of families or lovers.

Yet one winter night while he was in the middle of his training for the national team, he received a phone call from you with two words he never expected to hear from you at all, “I’m pregnant.”

It’s been three years since he last saw you that time and he’s puzzled, who took advantage of you? Where was that asshole so he could beat him to a pulp? Why couldn’t the father be a man and face you? He becomes even more confused because apparently you knew this man very well and you had an intimate relationship with him, something he never imagined from you, “I broke up with him.”

“W-what?”

“I broke up with him,” you repeated, clutching the ultrasound picture on your hand tightly, it probably looked unrecognizable at that point, “I told him I never wanted to see him again.”

“You didn’t tell him?” He bellowed, he placed his hands on your arms and held you while shaking you lightly, “Y/N are you out of your mind? How are you going to raise a kid in this state? You may have graduated early but you’ve got student loans and yourself to fend for! How are you going to do it? Your parents disowned you for cryin’ out loud!”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know? What do you mean? Do you want to have it aborted, Y/N?”

“I don’t know.”

Daiki lets out a frustrated sigh as he lowers his head, realization slowly dawned upon him at that moment, you were running away. Your defense mechanism had always been to run away. Ever since Aomine Daiki met you, he always noticed that whenever you had problems, you’d run towards the opposite direction and never meet them head-on.

They’d pile up to the point that he was worried you’d burst one day.

It had happened once before and it was something he prayed he’d never see again.

“You know you can’t keep running, right?” He manages to croak out softly, looking at you dead in the eye, your face was blank but your eyes held so much emotions in them; grief, anguish, misery, and what pained him the most was that you drowned yourself in these emotions that you probably didn’t know how to express them anymore because you were used to it.

“I can try.”

“You have to tell him, what’s his name? Where does he live? Y/N-”

“Don’t.” You replied, contrasting to the blank tone you were using moments ago, your voice was now soft. He notices that you’re inching closer to him and he observes you as you melt on his arms just like that moment eleven years ago, you’re shaking uncontrollably, “Please don’t tell him.”

“Y/N-”

“I-I- you-shouldn’t- can’t tell him, please just this one time,” You stammer, begging him with whatever strength you have left, he feels his jacket getting wet. He holds you tight, not knowing what to say anymore, whoever this jackass was, you must’ve really loved him because he’s never seen you this scared before, “just this one time, let me run away from this again.”

Miya Atsumu feels a tick on his forehead when a very tall, dark, and daresay, handsome man appeared to pick up the boys during the club activity today. He wouldn’t openly admit it but he wanted to talk to you after that little fiasco that he had with that brat but when this guy appeared out of nowhere instead of you.

He was beyond annoyed.

He couldn’t pinpoint where he actually saw this guy but he was very familiar.

“Oh, is that Aomine Daiki?” Sugawara gasped, completely surprised by the tall man’s presence.

“Wow, He’s way too tall to be japanese.” Hinata pointed out, “Is he a volleyball player? I wanna match him!”

“Shoyou no, he plays basketball for the NBA.” Sugawara comments, “I didn’t know Y/N knew him, he’s pretty big internationally and in japan too.”

Atsumu clenched his fists as he watched the brats easily cling onto him and ask him if they brought some gifts for them from abroad, judging by their body language, this guy must’ve been with you since the beginning.

“Oh, ninja shoyou was it?” The tall man suddenly exclaims, going up to Shoyou eagerly with no shame, “I watched some of your matches while I was in Brazil! I’m Aomine Daiki.”

Miya Atsumu wished this guy was an asshole but he was nothing like that, in fact, he looked like an excited kid when he started talking to the little orange-head, telling him how good he’d fit in at basketball with his jumps, “You must be the teachers?” he glanced towards Atsumu and Sugawara, the latter nodded but the blonde didn’t seem that amused by him.

“I’m Hinata’s teammate.” he said through gritted teeth, offering his hand to shake, “Miya Atsumu…”

“Nice to meet you, pal.”

“Daiki-ojisan, jiji’s an old friend of ‘kaasan back when she was studyin!” Youta exclaims randomly, Atsumu wants to snap at the brat for calling him jiji once again but he holds it back because he was still at odds with the other one and he didn’t want to strain whatever he had left with the excited one.

Daiki, on the other hand, feels his body stiffen at Youta’s random fact outburst. You had never told him who the father was until today, all he knew was that he was with you in Tokyo university and that you were very much in love with him.

Did this guy perhaps know who the boyfriend was?

“Friend, huh?” He laughs, taking his hand and shaking it, trying to lighten up the mood, “I heard she even got her first boyfriend there.”

The trio fell into silence at what Aomine said while the two kids tilted their heads at the new word they heard. The basketball player felt confused by the sudden silence and when he noticed the red ears of the blonde in front of him, realization finally dawned on him.

“That…” Atsumu clears his throat, ears tinged red by the man’s forwardness, “That would be me.”

Aomine’s eyes widen, no fucking way, “Wow,” he throws his head back, howling in laughter, were you a masochist? How could you lounge around the father of the kids without him knowing jackshit about what happened and still be alright? He immediately regains his composure, this poor blonde bastard was probably confused since he heard you just ghosted him and left him out of the blue, “You definitely get my respect, Miya-san.”

Atsumu doesn’t know why the man in front of him is so amused or why he’s taking out a scratch paper on the kids notebook to write his number on it, “I hope we can be friends, it's definitely an interesting story to hear how you two got together. Y/N never entertained me and I’ve been chasing her since we were thirteen.” he grins, as if he just hadn’t nonchalantly revealed that you had rejected him more times than Atsumu back in college.

The blonde setter is confused as the navy blue-haired man slaps a phone number on his palm, “Call me when you need a drinking company, alright? Let's talk, I’d love to hear how you ended up together.” the smile on his lips turning wider by the minute.

taglist [closed]

@fortheloveofiwaizumi ; @svtbitch ; @kiyoomile ; @lovedanii @juno-multifandom ; @gyubit17 ; @saeranoppa ; @nixxona ; @kyomihann @shorttstackk ; @intoomuchfandoms ; @yammmers ; @mx-minxx @itsmattsunshinehere ; @missingmystogan ; @volleybloop ; @imcravingyou ; @yams-wants-that-booty ; @liathachcapricious ; @pinknugget @seikamuzu ; @marigoldthoughts ; @sillykittt ; @baejinoffcl ; @alluring-akaashi ; @bnhasstuff ; @jungshookmeup ; @intheawks ; @bokuakadaily

@misosamu @Etherynaw @ryaaaax [hi, i can’t seem to tag u guys, i think you need to open your tags uwu]

#haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x reader #haikyu!! fanfics #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu headcanons #miya atsumu #miya atsumu x reader #miya atsumu imagine #miya atsumu scenarios #miya atsumu headcanons #haikyuu angst #atsumu x reader #atsumu imagines

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robininthelabyrinth · 4 years

Text

Three Gates - on ao3 (for content warnings check Ao3) - on tumblr: pt 1

- Chapter 2 -

It turned out that the party had been a meeting of important cultivators, sect leaders, and that meant, of course, that his father had been there.

His father. No wonder his mother had been so excited!

And even knowing that nothing had come of it, that his mother had returned empty-handed, despite himself, when he heard it, Meng Yao was excited, too, feeling a frisson of hope run down his spine. He regretted, now, that he hadn’t been able to go to the party as a server, thinking of the might-have-beens if he’d gone, if he’d done something to impress the man, if his father had finally decided to take them away from this place –

“He was too drunk to recognize me,” his mother said, sad and eyes distant. “And some of the younger girls had gotten to him first…I couldn’t catch his eye, and in the end they sent me away with one of the other sect leaders.”

As a joke, she didn’t say, an old whore with a man too drunk to tell the difference, but Meng Yao wouldn’t guess at that truth, the source of so much bitterness, until much later.

“Not Wen Ruohan, right?” Meng Yao asked, and breathed a sigh of relief when she shook her head.

“You shouldn’t refer to your elders by name, A-Yao,” she reminded him, always trying to teach him etiquette – though now that he thought about it, Nie Mingjue had used the man’s name directly, too. Maybe it was his way of trying to make the man seem less scary. “It would be ‘Sect Leader Wen’…and how do you know any of the sect leader’s names, anyway?”

“A cultivator came here last night,” Meng Yao explained. “He gave me a qiankun pouch, and some money –”

“In return for what?” His mother’s voice was sharp. “A-Yao, I told you, you’re not allowed to make deals with people –”

Meng Yao’s shoulders went up by his ears. He knew what she really meant, that he wasn’t allowed to sell himself or his body because it’d give him a bad reputation in the future; he wasn’t allowed even if it meant the difference between a hungry night and a full one, a freezing one and a warm one.

“I didn’t do that,” he muttered. “I just –”

“There’s no just. No deals at all, A-Yao; if you get into the habit of seeing everything as something you can buy or sell, then it’s only a matter of time before someone buys you.”

“It wasn’t like that,” Meng Yao protested. “He gave me a pouch, and he said –”

It was the wrong thing to say, especially after a disappointment like last night, and his mother started scolding him fiercely, alternating with tears, and in the end he decided it was better to say nothing.

Nie Mingjue would come back with the manual, the way he’d come back with the money, or else he wouldn’t, and either way there was nothing Meng Yao could do about it.

And anyway, after a few months, he realized he had bigger problems.

It started pretty unnoticeably: a tightness in his mother’s face, an unusual refusal to take on clients for the more lucrative type of engagements, spending more on food than usual…at first Meng Yao thought that it was only that she was happy to have money again, even if it spilled through their fingers like sand on getting her new clothing and better make-up, larger shoes for Meng Yao and a warm coat, only slightly torn from previous use.

He’d been worried, although not unduly so, when she’d started being sick sometimes – she’d claimed it was food poisoning, and they had been eating more meat than usual, so maybe…

Foolish.

One of the other ladies called it out one day in mockery, not a single doubt in her voice, and his mother didn’t deny it. Meng Yao’s stomach dropped, his heart frozen in terror.

Pregnant.

Again.

And she hadn’t taken any steps to get rid of it, the way she should have – whores had their ways, even if they weren’t perfect, and his mother knew enough of them. He knew that she would have been acting very differently if she intended to abort, would have been less cautious, less resistant, less –

She’d bedded a sect leader at that party, he remembered, doing the miserable math on his fingers. Not his father again, no, she wouldn’t make that mistake twice - would she? She’d gone there to see him, after all.

No, in the end, she was still counting on Meng Yao to earn his way into his father’s graces on his own, for the sake of both of them. But she had gone to bed with another one, and if it had taken…

Meng Yao knew his mother loved him, but for the first time in his life, he feared losing that love.

He tried to keep his fears to himself, tried not to burden her, but in the end he was a child and not yet good enough at hiding his expressions; she spotted him soon enough, took him into her arms and coaxed his fears from him.

“You silly goose, A-Yao. Don’t you know it’s for you?” she whispered in his ear, putting his hand on her belly. “I’m too old and sick to have a strong child, all the doctors said so; even if this one is born, he’ll be weak and sickly, likely to be swept away by the first chill of winter. I don’t need that sect leader to support me – we know already that they won’t do that. I just need him to feel guilty enough to take you with him back to his sect as recompense for having burdened me with a child that was lost.”

Meng Yao felt a touch of ice run down his spine. “But...what if the child lives through the winter?”

“There are many ways for a child to die,” his mother said, and her voice was calm and gentle, a pool undisturbed by the ripples beneath, just the way she’d always taught him. “Only some of them are winter.”

Meng Yao knew his mother loved him, but for the first time in his life, he feared what that love might mean.

His mother had grown cunning since his birth and more cynical since his father’s most recent rejection. She decided not to write to the sect leader with the news at once – that would be risking a rejection, a dismissal, an accusation that the child could be someone else’s son, or worst of all a blow to make her miscarry. She planned instead to wait until the child was almost here and only then she would summon him, knowing he would come to check just in case it was true. It was said that cultivators had a means of testing birthright, the way regular people didn’t, and that they were very cautious about such things.

That way, when the child died at birth or immediately thereafter, there would still be enough time for the sect leader to feel guilt and to be coaxed into taking Meng Yao in as a disciple, and once Meng Yao had learned the basics of cultivation, he could make his way to his father’s place to prove to him that he was worth taking in, that it was time to make good on all the old promises he’d made.

It was a good plan, if a cold one.

It would have worked, too, if Meng Yao hadn’t blundered his way into something better.

Perhaps that was giving him too much credit: he wasn’t the one who did the blundering. That was all Nie Mingjue, who six months after he’d made a crazy promise to return had actually gone and done it.

“You live in Qinghe,” Meng Yao said accusingly instead of greeting him, because he’d gone to listen to the gossips talk until he’d managed to figure out where the cultivation sect surnamed ‘Nie’ resided. “That’s not even in this part of the country; how can you be back so soon?”

“I promised you I would, didn’t I? I keep my word,” Nie Mingjue said with a smile, as if it was that easy – as if a child could make decisions like that, ones that involved crossing mountains and rivers and going deep into another sect’s territory, when Meng Yao couldn’t even walk too far down the street without the brothel owners cursing him out as a would-be runaway. “Don’t worry about it. The Jiang sect doesn’t really pay attention as a general rule, and even if they did their current leader’s too busy with his angry wife to care about who’s traveling through his domain.”

Meng Yao rolled his eyes - he’d heard that gossip, too. But he didn’t care, that wasn’t what mattered; there were more important things to focus on. “Did you bring it?”

Nie Mingjue produced a manual out of his sleeve. The quality of the paper was far better than any of the ones Meng Yao’s mother had bought for him, and he knew at once by looking at it that this was no fake. He tried to grab at it with both hands, but Nie Mingjue pulled it back.

“Cultivation is dangerous,” he warned. “You need a guide, at least at first, to make sure you don’t make any mistakes – it’s easy to make mistakes, especially at the beginning, and that can lay the groundwork for a qi deviation in the future. I’ll let you read it, but you have to promise that you’ll only practice with me for the first week or so, okay?”

“You’re staying a week?”

Nie Mingjue’s cheeks flushed red. “Uh, well – I was planning on two, if you don’t mind…”

“Of course I don’t mind! You can stay with me in my attic.”

“I brought enough money for a room at an inn –”

“We can use the extra to buy more meat,” Meng Yao told him, already pushing and shoving him, and Nie Mingjue was easily convinced.

He was easily convinced to follow him back to the brothel, too, which was a little frustrating: how could anyone be that naïve? If Meng Yao had wanted to sell Nie Mingjue, he probably could do it, cultivator or no; there were a hundred things to fear in a brothel, hidden in the tea or the incense or the smiles of seemingly friendly strangers.

Nie Mingjue was lucky that Meng Yao had longer-term goals in mind for him.

They passed the day quite pleasantly, eating meat skewers and dragon’s beard candy and discussing the basics of cultivation – Meng Yao read the book (his book!) and asked questions, and Nie Mingjue did his best to answer them – and then in the latter part of the afternoon the women at the brothel roused themselves, coming out to prepare for their nightly work, his mother included.

She was fairly heavily pregnant now, but there were men who liked that sort of thing, as long as there was something she could do for them, and the brothel owners wouldn’t waste their money by kicking her out no matter how annoyed they were at her for keeping the child. She wasn’t allowed to roam too far out of her room, being as she was a specialized service that might frighten regular customers, and so it wasn’t until she came to find Meng Yao to make sure he was all right that Nie Mingjue saw her for the first time.

“This is my mother,” Meng Yao said, his back stiff with expected insults even though Nie Mingjue hadn’t said a single word about Meng Yao living in a brothel so far.

Nie Mingjue stared at her with eyes so big and round and surprised that Meng Yao irritably wondered if he’d never seen a whore before, or perhaps it was the idea that one might be stupid enough to get pregnant and keep it. Maybe he would save his insults for that, instead, and Meng Yao would be forced to try to break his handsome face…

“You’re the lady they sent to my father’s room,” Nie Mingjue said, his voice faint and shaking with shock. “You’re – is that my brother?”

It turned out that the Nie sect, unlike the Jin sect, cared a great deal for matters of blood and children born of it; Nie Mingjue didn’t even demand a test or anything before he’d insisted that they come back to Qinghe with him, both of them, absolutely certain that his father would be overjoyed by the news.

Meng Yao and his mother exchanged looks, each of them skeptical and cynical to the core, and tried to convince him to slow down a little. To write a letter, perhaps –

“No! You have to come right away,” Nie Mingjue insisted, his cheeks pink with excitement. “We have doctors to care for you, and, oh, he’ll need a saber, someone will need to start on that right away – and anyway, a Nie should be born in Qinghe.”

“There’s still some months left to go,” Meng Shi said, though Meng Yao could see that she was a little amused by Nie Mingjue’s earnest enthusiasm. “Tell your father to come here and take me away, if you’re sure he’ll care so much.”

“I am sure,” Nie Mingjue said. “He’s just busy at the borders again, with Qishan Wen causing trouble all over; who knows how long it’d take for him to get word? Why do we have to wait for him to come in person anyway?”

“Because we can’t leave,” Meng Yao said, finally condescending to point out the obvious. “Mother belongs to the brothel, and we haven’t saved up enough to buy her freedom.”

Even an old whore was an expensive proposition, especially if she knew skills like singing and dancing and playing instruments the way Meng Shi did – and one with a burden like Meng Yao could be exploited to do all sorts of things that a normal woman might refuse. It would be costly to redeem her, more costly than anything a young sect heir might have expected to buy.

Meng Yao had expected that to be the end of it, but he’d apparently underestimated Nie Mingjue’s stubbornness: he went to the market and sold every last piece of metal he had on him, right down to the silver crown off his head, and was about to go try to barter away his clothing or sell his strength to a dockworker when Meng Yao shoved the money he’d so carefully saved up into his hands.

“With this it might be enough,” he said, biting his lip with guilt as his mother gaped at the glittering gold in his hand – he hadn’t dared tell her about it, about the fact that he’d been saving up again. She’d told him before that there was no point in buying her freedom, that she had no other skills to sell and a bad reputation to boot; they would live free for a single summer only to have to sell her back again in the winter, and the brothel owners wouldn’t be pleased at all by that.

“It will be,” Nie Mingjue said. “Even if I have to buy the rest on credit, it will be!”

“At least be clever about this,” Meng Shi sighed, giving in even though she clearly didn’t think it was a good idea. Meng Yao supposed she figured that if it came down to it, there were brothels in Qinghe, too, and at least she’d be something new there with her soft Yunping accent and manners. “If they think you’re desperate, they’ll raise the price – you should be more arrogant. Act as if you were doing them a favor by taking me off their hands.”

Nie Mingjue’s nose wrinkled.

“Pretend they’re surnamed Wen,” Meng Yao suggested, and that did the trick: Nie Mingjue’s lip curled at once, vicious and angry (and a little scared, but only deep down where most people wouldn’t see it easily). He marched right inside the brothel and demanded they sell Meng Shi to him, flaunting himself as the son of what he called a Great Sect.

It might not have worked except that he made such a fuss that people started to gather, including a passing cultivator and his wife – a much more respectable-looking pair than gawky too-tall-for-his-age Nie Mingjue with his hair now bound only by a ribbon, with a horsetail whip in the hands of the woman and swords on both of them – and the man’s eyebrows had gone up as high as his forehead. “Nie-gongzi,” he called, and even saluted properly and everything. “What are you doing so far from home?”

“Trying to complete a transaction,” Nie Mingjue growled, glaring at the brothel owner even as he saluted back. “I think he doesn’t think I’m good for it.”

The female cultivator snorted, shifting the baby she carried on her back from one side to the other. “That’s brave of him. Doesn’t your Nie sect like to break things that disagree with you and pay for the damages later?”

“He’s too young for that,” her husband told her. “Look, he’s not even carrying his saber yet.”

“I wasn’t talking about him,” she said. “I was talking about the retainers his father almost certainly sent to track him down – didn’t you say you saw some very angry-looking cultivators entering town not long ago? They looked fit to slaughter.”

Nie Mingjue blanched, suggesting that he hadn’t expected company quite this early – or perhaps hoping that he could hide away from them – but the cultivators’ words had made the brothel owner quite contemplative. He finally agreed to sell him Meng Shi’s contract for all the money Nie Mingjue had and a letter of promise for that amount a second time over, an outrageous price even after they’d used all of Meng Shi’s tricks on him, but Nie Mingjue had agreed to it in a heartbeat.

“Won’t your father be angry at your spending?” Meng Yao asked, wondering. It was so much money.

“I’ll make it up to him,” Nie Mingjue said dismissively. “As soon as I get my saber and start night-hunting, money flows free and easy. It’s hard to explain, but you’ll see what it’s like once you get there.”

Meng Yao blinked. “What?”

“Aren’t you going to be a cultivator?” Nie Mingjue asked, blinking at him. “You’ll be part of my Nie sect, of course, so the same rules that apply to me will apply to you.”

“No,” Meng Yao explained. “I’m going to be part of –”

His mother pressed down on his shoulder. “You’d be willing to accept A-Yao into your sect?” she asked, her gaze sharp and penetrating.

“Of course,” Nie Mingjue said, sounding puzzled. “I was willing to do it before, just for helping me out, and now, well – he’s the brother of my brother, isn’t he? That makes him all but family directly, especially if you marry in as a concubine.”

They both gaped at him.

“…do you not want to?” Nie Mingjue – hapless idiot, fulfiller of dreams – asked, actually sounding worried. “I just assumed you would, to make sure the child isn’t born a bastard…”

“I wouldn’t object,” Meng Shi said, her voice full of rich irony that only Meng Yao understood. “But I think your father might.”

“You don’t know my father,” Nie Mingjue said simply. As if it was simple, as if people were like that. “He’ll do the right thing.”

#mdzs #nie mingjue #meng yao #jin guangyao #nieyao #meng shi #my fic #my fics #three gates

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theogygiaisland · 3 years

Text

The Crimson Trace [3/26]

Characters: Tim Drake, Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Cassandra Cain, Damian Wayne

Warnings: Teen (13+)

Categories: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Mystery

Words: 3,777 words

Read on: AO3 (<<prev | next>>)

It’s been so long since she’s stayed solely in the manor for more than a week. She usually just pops in every now and then for a few days before she gets antsy, the lingering feelings of her past coming back to get her never left her; although it had toned down when she saw how adamant her new family was against David Cain when he dropped in to collect her back. Cass could admit to feeling safe under the symbol of the Bat; but even better was that she felt more accepted as a person in Dick’s arms or even Jason’s scowling face and that feeling was something she’ll forever cherish.

Usually, when she’s in Gotham and lived in her own bedroom, she spends her days outside the manor more than inside, pushing the newfound freedom in being a person more than a weapon. It led to a lot of safehouse-hopping and frantic calls from Bruce (and isn’t that sweet to actually be cared about), before everyone realized she just needed to work through her trauma. That led to a confusing amount of days, wondering why Steph suddenly has a pull out bed and Kate suddenly had tupperwares of food ready to be raided despite the woman never actually cooking (she was a snacker more than a sit-down-on-meals type) before someone admitted that they were doing all these things especially for her.

The appreciation fills and pours over. It fills her with softness from her stomach to her chest with warmth indescribable with any words taught to her by Babs. She supposes it’s the same way how baby swans feel, tucked in between their parent’s feathers as they swim in the manor’s ponds when she comes across them one day with Damian: accommodated despite them knowing she can be independent, cared for even if it’s out of their way. Loved. When she tells Bruce this one time, she was gifted with a bright smile.

To say she would die for this family would be an understatement.

Now, Cass, contrary to popular belief, cannot read minds, but she can read the shift in people’s stances, the furrow of their eyebrows, the tapping of their feet, and it’s as close to reading someone as she could get away with without being meta.

For the past few days, while everyone told her that it’s fine, she can read the stress lines of their bodies and their jerky dances around each other and it was a literal week of screaming ‘what the fuck now’. For all of their show of it being fine, it was obviously not. Saying it overwhelmed her was an understatement.

He looked younger than her, so there’s that. But the teen could’ve been as old as Bruce by the bags under his eyes and the way his mouth’s relaxed state was to be in a tight line. He doesn’t like to be touched and he doesn’t offer much about himself other than pointed questions that get answered with the most direct answers. She’s taken to watching over door frames and spying from her peripherals to understand who Tim was, if he was a threat (which was pretty obvious that he isn’t) and what he’s supposed to be doing. It left Cass, who’s words were still too few for conversations like these to just base her reactions to his actions and everyone who’s interacted with him.

She doesn’t like what she reads. There are moments when she spies the aborted hands reaching out, or the smiles fading out with resignation in the curve of his shoulders. Tim looked as if he didn’t have the right to shake apart in anyone’s arms like she did when she was sure Dick wouldn't make the night with Joker (she also had kevlar, he was an idiot) and he was a boy who choked on silent sobs when he thought no one checked up on him after (he was also an idiot). And-- and that reminded her too much of her time when David Cain with his whips and his lashings and his anger and her flinches and her fear and--

Cass was smart enough to know this was her brother from another universe. A universe without extra pillows and tupperwares and swan hatchlings and softness tucked in. The thought stains her warmth with the cold vice grip.

And she can’t have that just by pure principle of the matter. Not when he’s here and she can pay it forward.

So when the household settles down and the gaping hole of problems that appeared feel like it’s three feet wide rather than a ten foot gap between parties, she sags a little with relief. With only Jason’s absence as the only problem on the horizon, Dick being cleared for regular non strenuous activity (and she was tasked by Alfred to make sure of that) she sees the need to celebrate.

“Batburger?”

Tim doesn’t look at her, but rather than it coming from aloofness from before, it was merely due to him being distracted on his tablet. Previously it would’ve irritated her to no end (and she was not beyond flicking his forehead to let him know and to which he usually reacts with surprised exasperation), nowadays it was now met with soft endearment. Annoyed endearment, but a step nonetheless.

It took a while, searching underneath the jagged edges and the cold shoulders, and sometimes something as minor as Damian helping him move his case files hits back at them with spite; but Bruce’s words from before and more roping into family time found him less likely to snipe back. Cass is not too proud to admit she herself wanted to shoulder check him when Tim wrinkled his nose at his little brother’s offhanded offer. Damian has gotten a long way from what the Al Ghuls made him and her loyalties were still to her original brothers.

But Cass has noted that he has also been trying more, gotten away from the knee jerk reaction to deflect where he can and push back when he can’t. Just yesterday she was able to pester him to a sparring match and was only met with a sigh. It was a pretty big deal apparently as Dick took it as his cue to continue acting like a good big brother (that he is) and talking more animatedly than the awkward small talk they’ve been subjected to over dinner. Cass supposed that it was too bad Jason left-- Dick’s play by play of his last mission with Wally was so funny Tim choked on his potato salad. He would’ve had a kick at seeing Damian argue that his stature did not make him incapable of doing a heimlich on Tim (it totally would).

To Cass, Tim looks like a cute animal with bad habits… like… like a trash racoon.

Steph told her that one time. She was describing herself during midterms with baggy eyebrows and living off instant noodles. Cass finds that it fits both of them perfectly. She should probably introduce them.

A smile makes it to her lips.

Maybe.

Cassandra has not and will not be stopped from being a physical human being. She finds that Tim does not like it at first, squirming under her stare and flinching from odd brushes, but the more he stays, the more he gets used to it. He actually leans into the attention and affection, although he says he doesn’t and his grumbling does not deter her even for a bit. And Cassandra is nothing but persistent; to the point that Tim doesn’t even huff in annoyance when her bony elbows of doom (according to Jason) poke him during lunch or when she steals bread rolls off his plate (despite Alfred’s tutting her)-- which basically is a sign of trust in her case.

After their spar yesterday, a sense of calm tides over and she watches the apprehension bleed away from Tim and come into fond resignation, face breaking into micro expressions and the need to hide it lessens. And Cass loves that she helped this thaw.

Helped because she knows there was some catalyst to it. Cass really should give Damian more toffee if the kid continues to annoy people into the family. It worked with Jason to come back home (with no inaction from Dick), it worked with Babs (he was adamant to be taught how to code), and it definitely worked with Steph (only so she can annoy him back).

Not that she knows what happened in the den the day before and if Damian accused her of spying, she’s definitely going to straight up lie.

“Batburger.” She says decisively, turning to the rest of the people lounging in the den. Dick and Damian are on the sofa watching some action movie, and at least Dick looked on board with the idea.

“You know what, you’re right. We’ve been cooped up in here for too long.” He says, as he jumps up to a stretch. Damian growls something low as the sofa bounces, but doesn’t look away from where Captain America is fighting Spiderman on screen in an airport. His attention to the action looks impenetrable and Cass has a looming feeling he’s going to try out those twist flips later in the cave.

“Come on baby bat, let’s get a Batburger.”

“No.” Damian grumbles. “I want to finish MCU’s Phase 2 before Todd comes back and hogs Disney Plus.”

“Oh don’t be like that little bird.”

“No.”

“I promise to get you a kiddie meal.” Dick pleads with his eyes.

“Most certainly not! It’s stupid and a waste of calories. They don’t even have a vegetarian options on that pathetic excuse of a food line.”

“Alright, alright lil’ D-- I’ll get the kids meal and you get the toy. C’mon please?”

Damian sighs loudly, but Cass sees his cheek twitch minutely. “Fine. But only to shut you loud mouths up.”

“Thanks!” Dick swoops in to ruffle Damian’s hair, getting one hair toss before the boy pulls out a knife to threaten their eldest. Cass can see the hesitation in his eyes as he mentions maiming Dick’s fingers, which is basically a sign of love in his language. She mentally reminds herself to give him a noogie later for his pretense.

She plucks the weapon out of his hands by the blade with a soft “No maiming in the house.”

Dick grins wide at her while she tucks the weapon away on a high shelf before turning around. She doesn’t pretend that he won’t get it back before they leave like other people, but at least she made it a challenge. “Tim, we’re going out.”

“Have fun.” Tim says with a hand wave.

“Come on Timmy, please?”

“What?”

“Batburger. Outside. Like actually outside Wayne premises. Please? Do it for me? I nearly died, you know.”

“What fuck no--”

Dick exchanges a look with Cass and Cass-- Cass catches him wink conspiratorially.

“Fine, you asked for it. Nuclear option it is.” Dick plucks Tim’s tablet from his fingers and throws it over his shoulder to Cass who takes from the air it as it soars above her head. “Password is 5647, let it rip Cass”

“That’s-- How-- That’s my pass-- oh c’mon Dick!” Tim tries to grab the item, but Cass keeps sliding out of his range. A growl was erupting from the back of his throat.

Cass gives him a two finger salute and a chirp, not threatened at all. The chime of someone opening the tablet fills the air as she enters the password.

“Dick!” Tim turns to Dick and just whines. Seeing Tim plead like that brings a smile on her face. Who knew he had such a high whining tone?

“See, we’re taking this hostage. For Batburger. If you know your Cass then you know our Cass-- she probably will install all bubble pop games on there the more you stretch this out.” Dick places his hands in front of his chest in a gesture of peace as if he’s done nothing wrong. “And do not try to stop her, I’m taught better than that-- we probably were both taught better than that.”

Tim sighs defeatedly as Cass laughs at this. She didn’t really plan on pushing Tim too much too soon, but apparently Dick had it all under control, armed to the teeth with powers only older brothers have.

To keep up pretense, she makes a grand show of opening the App Store so they get on with it.

“Fine!”

“Are you idiots done?” Damian huffs from his perch at the couch. “All this nonsense is depleting my brain function.”

“The term is braincells Dames.” Dick laughs as he helps Tim to his feet. “Siblings, assemble!”

Cass waits for Damian and Dick from the booth together with Tim. Damian was adamant that if he’s to partake in fast food indulgences, he should at least get to pick the seats and then proceeds to leave his and Dick’s jackets on the opposite couch. A move which surprises absolutely no one.

Tim idly plays with a clean napkin left on the counter, fingers always moving and fidgeting. This was also one of the things she’s noticed about him-- he fidgets a lot, tapping on keys, on notes, fingers twirling around a pencil. Cass was pretty sure what he’s doing is unhygienic just because it touched the table, but she doesn’t really want to return the tablet to the trash raccoon.

“You know I almost never get Batburger.” Tim says which makes her look at him in question but he’s got a far away look on his face. “I used to rely on our housekeeper’s meal preps, and when I felt like getting take out, I usually preferred picking up the item than asking for delivery. But I don’t really go out much since I used to find it weird eating alone in restaurants-- especially when I was a kid-- that led to very awkward situations. Ives, a friend of mine, would join if he could, but fast food was on his no-no list with his strict diet.”

This was the first time he’s actively imparted knowledge to them without being prompted first and it took her by surprise that he actually talked to her first. Talking was easy for Cass now versus when she was nothing but a puppet to David Cain, but her words would not convey the emotions she felt, so she leans toward Tim and rests her head against his shoulder in solidarity.

Kudos to Tim, he doesn’t even tense up.

“And when I became Robin, Dick used to bring me here. In and out of masks. And you came too Cass-- but you always preferred ice cream.”

Cass hums-- she still does, but getting ice cream would lead to a hyperactive Nightwing who is still benched from patrol and she’s responsible and sacrificial like that.

“Of course it doesn’t happen as much now, I have my own apartment, and Dick has Damian, and you’ve got more missions with the Outsiders, and we don’t-- we’re not entirely the type of family you drag around town-- we’ve yet to master the art of not fighting over food. But now that Jason and Damian’s less murdery, I thought we could’ve had something like this. You know, before I went yeeting across dimensions.” He laughs and she snorts at the phrasing.

“This just reminds me of them y’know. Lot’s of could’ve been.” He sighs. “I’ve actually wanted to know what it would be like to enjoy having everyone back.”

“We’re not...perfect. But we try.” Cass tells him slowly. “Bring them. When you’re back.”

Tim chuckles, and Cass is glad there was a hint of amusement in it. “Yeah, maybe. My lack of spleen won’t probably approve of it though.”

Cass clicks her tongue. “Excuses, excuses.” She waves her hand dismissively. Tim swats it playfully.

“Stop copying me. It’s a bad habit.” But she only sticks her tongue out at him before sitting back up. Tim makes a face at her and then laughs fully.

It seems like they really were going to be alright. All they need now are Batburgers and they could go back and--

“Hey there, you alright if I sit here?”

The man-- and it was a man from the broad shoulders to his proportions-- slides into the booth opposite them and puts Dick and Damian’s coats on the table.

“Uhm, no?” Tim says slowly. “Excuse me, but that seat’s taken.”

“Excellent, thanks.” The man says. “I won’t take long, don’t worry. I just need to talk to you.”

Cass raises an eyebrow at him. Beneath his blue eyes and red hair is a tentative smile of someone who knows he’s overstepping boundaries, but doesn’t look too sorry for it. His three piece suit complete with a tie, trilby and trench coat looked out of place in the fast food joint.

She remains impassive as she watches the man lounge, watching his body as he leans back and wondering what he wants from them. She points a finger at him and voices this. “Who?” as in ‘who are you?’ or ‘who the fuck do you think you are?’.

“Look uninterested please.” He asks, but underneath his simple words lies an order. “I really don’t have time for this and I already can’t wait until your next night out to catch you.” He looks pointedly at Tim. “I’m Vic Sage.”

Cass glances at Tim. “Vic...Sage..-- holy shit you’re--”

“Louder for the people at the back there, kid.”

“But you don’t operate in Gotham all the time… you’re looking for me?” Tim frowns. Cass tries to throw him a questioning look-- she has no footing what to expect here-- but Tim was eyeing the person suspiciously to notice, which frustrates her to no end. “Why?”

“That’s always the question isn’t it?” the man laughs. “You Bats were always too jumpy.”

Cass felt her fist tighten under the table ready for a fight and started eyeing the exits to be ready for anything because this man-- he knows them.

“Look, kid, are you a recent addition? Heard about you from the GCPD two nights ago with the Joker.”

“You could say that.”

“The man was blabbing about young blood and robins. And I know the man’s a lunatic, but he’s never gone as Dracula for his MO. And there hasn’t been a young vigilante aroundsince the last one died--” Cass and Tim wince at this. “But suddenly there’s reports of a fourth vigilante on scene with the Bats. Doesn’t take a logical leap for all that mad rambling.”

The man looks him up and down while Tim stiffens at the attention. “No you’re not aren’t you. New I mean. The Bat would never take Joker on with fresh vigilantes and this was the first time we’ve heard of you. ” The Question pulls out a cigarette and plays with it but doesn’t light it. “You’re somehow new, but you also aren’t. You obviously haven’t been out yet since you’re not seen by no paparazzi yet and the Bats hasn’t left you alone for long periods of time. I should know-- the hair on the back of my neck couldn’t stand up enough. I think the older one by the counter is getting antsy.”

Cass doesn’t make a show of her eyes flicking above the man and seeing Dick watch them. From the brief glance, she could tell he wanted to storm up to them but didn’t want to alert Damian-- that or so he was nearer to the doors for an immediate exit if things go south. Tim doesn’t confirm or deny his comments so she also keeps quiet.

“Well maybe I am, maybe I’m not. I don’t even know myself to give you a definitive answer, Vic.”

“Right.” The man says. “Maybe you should though.”

“Huh?”

Vic flicks the loose tobacco that manages to litter their table. Cass still doesn’t understand what’s happening and his lack of threat in that action is unnerving. “You know kid, the Phantom Stranger actually dropped by my place last nigh--”

“Who?”

“The Phantom Stranger, some sorta omnipotent god, keep up kid.” Vic says without disdain. “He said something about a disturbance in the force--”

“I’m keeping upm no need to quote Star Wars.”

“Ah, appreciate the classics I see.”

Tim just grunts.

“Something about scorpion grass popping in visions or something like that. Said there’s a big bang happening in Gotham that I’ve got to get my eyes peeled for. Same warnings like a mad fellow-- a bomb, agony, torn families and etc nothing unusual for him really-- but you don’t turn down intel from a literal god.

“Actually I came to the conclusion when I saw some old cold cases getting closed all of the sudden-- good job on those by the way-- and whispers of a new cape flying around helping your black and blue bird out of the warehouse. Wasn’t that hard. Disturbance in the force, visions, and then wham, bam, new vigilante on the scene. Should've known you Bats are involved. Again. And you just scream ‘I’m the epicenter’ kid.”

Vic chuckles at this and brushes the tobacco off the table. A quick glance at Tim shows that he’s actually pondering on the stranger’s words.

“But then again, the Phantom Stranger is your typical born and bred asshole, all cryptic guiding but not really doing anything.”

“Funny, I could say the same for you.” Tim says and Vic only laughs. “But I don’t understand-- if the Phantom Stranger is involved, I wouldn’t ping in his field since I’m from another dimension.”

A shrug. “You’re a Bat, it’ll come to you don’t worry. If you have any questions you probably will know where to find me--”

--There was an aggressively polite cough.

“Excuse me, you’re in our seat.”

The man only gives them a sorry look and a smile. “And that’s my cue. I like you, you’re a funny kid. Don’t get killed.” Vic Sage comments, as he slides out of the booth. He stands aside as Damian eyes him down and Cass has never been so glad that his little brother offered to get their orders-- his hands were too full of Batburgers to draw any weapons.

Vic Sage turns to Dick, who looks on impassively, and gives him a curt nod. “Waynes. Grayson. New bird.”

When both of the boys slides in, all eyes were trained on Tim who looks as white as a ghost and Cass places a tentative hand on his shoulder.

Finally, Dick’s frown deepens. “What did the Question need from you?”

But Tim remains silent.

#crimson trace #calypso writes #tim drake #jason todd #dick grayson #cassandra cain #cass cain #damian al ghul #damian wayne #batman #batfam #fanfic #Good job @ me for actually revising and finishing this #i really hope you guys like it!#better than chap 2 at least

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chimswae · 3 years

Text

BTS Caretaker CH33

Summary: She may think she has Bangtan Sonyeondan wrapped around her fingers. She may think it is easy to love the members equally without hurting any soul. She may think the boys wont fall head over heels for her. She assumes it is okay to show a little love and affection towards the boys, what if she gets it all wrong? What if it only brings more complication to her already complicated life? Can she survive their charms? Will she be able to resist them? What if they just wont let her go?

- Pairing: BTS x Oc ( Yoongi x OC, Jungkook x OC)

- Genre: Fluff, Slight Angst, Romance, Idol!au

- Word Count: 3,595

- Author Note: There is a small text exchange between Seul and Jin in this chapter, so i put the text up.

Previous | Next

Chapter 33

“Seul, what is the matter? Why with the sudden notice?” Wongeun placed the letter down on his lap, expelling a long sigh. Once again hesitation ripped off the confidence that she had earlier. She had given this into a thought, even Jin would give her a call without fail despite not being there physically by her side. Ever since her encounter with Mr Kwon, she had never seen him lingered around the shop. God knows, when he decided to make his appearance again.

Wongeun snapped his fingers to bring back her attention to him “Am I talking to wall? Is there something that I must know? You are a little off these days” Seul smiled meekly adding to his suspicion.

“It is nothing. I think mother needs me by her side. Her health is deteriorating, it is best to pay more attention on her” she lied. It was an established fact that she quit after finding out the truth about Mr Kwon.

She needed to- no, she must stay away from him as far as possible.

“Seul.. if this is about your mother, you know we can help you. You don’t have to resign” he reasoned.

“Oppa, I think it is about time to focus on something that is more important in my life. I have nothing against this place, hell I have been working for two years with you. It is not easy for me too, but I hope you understand” her cold lips emitted a heavy sigh. She looked at him sadly “Please?” Wongeun leaned back in his seat.

He was morose and kept his mouth shut making her anxious for no reason. “It is hard to let you go Seul. You are a good employee and a good friend of mine. Just so you know, the door is opened for you anytime. Hit me up, and you can get that apron of yours back” he lightens up the mood earning a small chuckle from the girl.

“Thank you oppa, I know I can trust you with this. Don’t worry I will come to visit once in awhile to check on you guys” Wongeun said quickly “And to buy a box brownies” she laughed softly.

“Yes, a box of brownies. I will never forget you, for all the things that you did for me. So, thank you again” Wongeun shook his head and eyed the girl closely. “Don’t sound like we are not meeting each other anymore. Seul just don’t-“ a voice spread across the room, pausing the conversation that they had.

“It is stated in the contract; all employee must give two months’ notice before resigning”

That voice again. Seul’s breath hitched when his eyes laid on her, scrutinizing her from head to toes.

Why is he here? She mentally groaned in dissatisfaction.

Surprised by their manager sudden appearance, Wongeun stood up almost immediately and bowed politely “ Sir, I didn’t know you will be coming today” he murmured while giving an eye signal to Seul demanding her to greet the important person in front of them.

She rose from her feet with so much reluctance didn’t want to appear suspicious, so she gave the old man a little bow without sparing any look at him.

Dressed in navy blue suit, he had round dark shades to cover that two pair of evil eyes which she hated the most. Not long after, he took off his shades, keeping it inside his pocket with an unreadable expression “ Miss Ji, your resignation letter is invalid. I will not accept it. Draft a new one as an advance notice, you may leave the job in two months” his voice was mocking her, to flaunt his power that he had on her.

Seul’s jaw tightened, letting the anger sipping in “I don’t remember having that kind of terms in the contract?” she snapped.

A mischievous smirk spread across his face “ Keep the job for two more months or pay the penalty, your call” Wongeun blinked confusedly sensing the tension in the air as though these two were playing with fire, getting ready to throw it at each other.

“I will pay the penalty fees” said Seul confidently.

“I reckon you can afford those fees. It may cost you fortune. I suggest the first option anyway” the tone of his voice was so snobbish making her fuming in anger. She pondered upon this matter again. If she insists on quitting the job and pay the penalties, where to find the money?

As much as she wanted to seek help from Jin, that sounded impossible. This would only make her to appear like a gold digger. She was not that desperate.

She couldn’t believe it with her ears that after so many years, he still had the audacity to pull such threat on her. This simply means she had to put up with him for two more months before freed herself from this evil lair. How was it possible to survive that?

“Miss Ji, I am waiting” he tapped his finger on his branded wrist watch.

“Fine, I will hand in the new notice tomorrow” Wongeun sent her an apologetic glance considering he didn’t have much say in this. He too didn’t understand why Mr Kwon seemed so interested in this business recently. All these years, he never showed up and would contact Wongeun occasionally through phone call.

Something is fishy, he thought.

“Good. Enjoy your last two months here, you never know what awaits you” those last sentences sent chill down her spin. You never know what awaits you, it rung inside her head in loop. She couldn’t simply forget it just because it came from the nastiest human being alive, Evil Kwon.

Without wasting any more seconds to breathe the same dirty air as his, Seul excused herself to tend her job. Wongeun watched her back leaving the scene with a heavy heart. There were unanswered questions inside his head that need to be answered soon.

Satisfied with his successful plan in keeping the girl under his radar, he was ready to leave. “I want her letter by hand and she must submit it to me personally. Tell her to come to my house tomorrow, I will be working from home” he ordered.

Wongeun nodded, trying to be optimist since the older man made Seul to submit her notice all way to his house without any solid reason. How odd was that?

------------------

Two more days till home. Just two freaking days, then he could recharge back the energy in him. He already missed his odeng and eomuk though, for the time being Seul would be keeping those two cuties with her during his absence.

Jin decided to laze around a bit considering the practice for their concert tomorrow had taken almost 13 hours of his time straight without break. He plopped himself on the comfy king-sized hotel bed and expelling a tired sigh. Massaging his aching shoulder, he released another loud grunt not liking the pain that took over his body.

His roommates, Jungkook and Namjoon were out to get food with Jimin. As soon as they reached their hotel, he went straight to his room without wasting more time outside. Jin prioritized his sleeps more than anything. He fished out his phone from his pocket and decided to text Seul again.

He bit his lower lips muffling the small chuckle from his mouth. Nowadays, the mere thought of Seul became the source of strength in him. Even though this feeling that he had for her started way back then, but he’s too afraid to admit it.

Someone needs a love counselling session.

Joyfully, his fingers moved swiftly against the screen and typed a quick hi to Seul.

Damn, why is he like this?

Seul was reading his last message and her eyes flew open in surprised to see his name appeared on the screen. Jin’s quick reflex was no joke, he acted as if Seul was at the brink of death. Giving Seul no time to process, Jin bombarded her with questions which almost knocked her sense out from her body.

“Where are you meeting him? With who??

“Are you by any chance alone?”

“Don’t tell me your best friend refuse to follow you there!”

“Seul don’t go! It is dangerous! The last time you’re breathing in the same room as his, he almost ripped your dress apart. Goodness woman!”

“Geez Kim Seokjin. One at a time. Your words fly faster than bullets. I am alone, no, Hwasa is working. She can’t ditch her job because there’s only her and Sera working this shift. And, about the first question, I am heading to his home” Seul swore to god Jin’s high pitch yell could be heard miles away. This was the exact reason she didn’t want to tell him about her plan meeting the old man alone. Jin would react this way.

“YAH ARE YOU INSANE? DID YOU JUST OFFER YOURSELF TO THE EVIL MAN VOLUNTARILY? ABORT MISSION. RETURN. HOME. NOW!” he yelled angrily through the speaker earning a soft hiss from the latter.

“Are you mad?”

“No. I am so happy that you are now on your way meeting Mr Kwon, what a beautiful reunion!” his sarcastic remark sounded so Min Suga. When she thought about it again, they must be spending too much times together as a roommate.

Seul snorted “I know but like I have a choice. I just need to submit this and once this reach him, I will leave immediately. I will take care of myself Jin” her voice softened at the end. Her heart skipped weirdly at the attention that he showed to her, like when he sounded so protective over her it drove her wild heart to edge.

“I know you can take care of yourself, but I don’t trust him Seul. Think about this again? His threat is empty, about the penalty fees I can help-“ she blurted quickly before Jin could say more.

“I don’t want you to help me. This is an issue that I can solve by my own. I only need your morale support and I don’t need your money. Jin, I can handle him. I will contact you as soon as I am out from his house alright?” for some reason her assurance did not sound tempting to him at all. Jin didn’t feel good about this.

The end of the line fell into dead silence worrying the timid girl. Angry Jin was not pretty, and she knew it would lead to more harm than good. “Jin..” she called him out softly meting his heart.

Aish, how can I stay mad at you, woman. Jin rolled his eyes in annoyance.

“Under one condition, don’t hang up on me until I make sure he won’t do something inappropriate to you” she frowned and stopped in front of the beautiful bungalow house. For a second, the size of the house took her breath away but realizing who’s the owner of this property, she cringed in disgust.

“That is impossible. International call is expensive Kim Seokjin, are you mad?”

“I can afford that, just listen to me, will you?! Stop being so stubborn!” Seul sighed and glanced at her phone screen before pressing it back near her ears.

“Look, my battery barely survives this phone call Jin. I will call you as soon as I am done, it wont take long. If I didn’t get back in 15 minutes, you can reach Hoon and tell him my whereabouts” she suggested to ensure Jin wouldn’t make fuss over this again.

Jin paused for a second before responded “15 minutes is too long! Why do you need 15 minutes when you can just leave the letter at his doorstep and leave immediately?” as expected from Jin, he wouldn’t take things lightly.

“Every step that I take is more than one second you moron. To add to those delay is my hesitation, can you just spare my life for 15 minutes and reconsider my offer. Gosh, you are impossible!” she exclaimed.

“Ji Seul, I don’t like what you are doing” he scowled.

Seul rubbed her head, with a small sigh “Do you trust me?”

“I always trust you but not now. It is not a good idea, you still have time to change your mind and take off from there. I..just that- I am not there for you Seul. I don’t want anything happen to you” low murmurs could be heard clearly and Seul found herself smiling shyly. This different side of Jin always make her looking forward to spend more time with him in the future.

“I promise, I will be back in 15 minutes without scratch, can you wait for me till then?” she bit her lower lips nervously. Did she sound like she’s flirting with him? Why was she worried over her choices of words and tone of voice? This is sickening.

Jin finally gave in and nodded “15 minutes not more. If you don’t give me a call within that time, I am calling cops”

“Hoon” she corrected.

“Hoon has no gun, cops have one”

Seul whined “You are not calling the cops! I forbid you in doing so, just call Hoon” he chuckled softly picturing Seul’s pout in his head.

“Fine, Hoon”

“I have to go, I will be back in 15 minutes max alright?” she hung up without bidding a goodbye and annoyed the hell out of him. He glanced at the clock in fear, 15 minutes from now Seul must be out safely from that home.

Or else, Jin..

--------------------

Entering the luxurious lavish home, her eyes scanned the interior admiring it along her way. The maid brought her to another wing of the house which she assumed where his office would be. Taking a deep breath, she dragged her heavy legs entering the office and not to forget thanking the maid before the woman disappeared from her sight.

“You made it” the old man tore his gaze from the pile of document in front of him to Seul. She wished how earth could just swallow her right now rather than being in the same room as his. Seul mustered her courage and approached the wooden table slowly, “I am here to submit my letter as you requested” placing the letter on the table, she took a step back.

“I will get going now” she mentally screamed to quickly exit the suffocating room and normalize her breathing. Mr Kwon smug, taking his time to say this one thing that could stop her from walking away through that door.

She reached for the door knob and before she could open the door, Seul heard him chucked lowly “I know what you are looking for. It is your biological father, right? What if…” he stood up from his leather swivel chair, walking stealthily towards Seul.

Her brows flinched as he continued “What if, I know who your real father is?” he minimized the gap between them.

Seul’s eyes shot open realizing what this man tried to offer her, “Wh-at… nonsense is that…” her eyes threw daggers as she backed away, pressing her back against the cold door. The older man cackled in delight watching how much power he had on Seul.

“Not nonsense, but I do know where to find your real father”

“I don’t trust you”

“Really? Did your mother ever tell you about your real father?” he brought his face closer to her, teasing the girl in process. Her lower lips quivered in fear “I know… he is one my father’s best friend” she held back her tears from hitting the ground.

He nodded “True, but have you seen any photo of him?”

“Why does it matter?!” she snapped.

“You have such a loud mouth, it could be used for better thing in the future” he rubbed his thumb over her lips only to be slapped away by Seul harshly. “Don’t touch me” she gritted her teeth in anger, feeling offended by his sexual remarks.

“Alright, I won’t touch you. But that won’t change the fact that I know where to find your real father” he tilted his head studying her expression. It was a mixture of pain and anger. “Your dad is closer than you think” he whispered in her ears.

Seul shook her head frantically “I will never listen to a bastard like you, stay the hell away from me” Mr Kwon let out a sarcastic laugh.

“Stay the hell away from you? Even blood can’t tear us apart Seul” he snorted. “I will spare you for now but remember, my arms always open for you in case you need me” he twisted the door knob, opening the door for her.

With one final glance, she scurried off the room using the last ounce of strength in her body afraid that the bipolar man might change his mind in the middle and decided to lock her up or kidnap her. Once she felt the cold wind hit her skin, she was relieved to survive the battle with demon inside.

Thinking about his words earlier, could it be true that he knew who’s his father. Hence, there was a chance for her to find him. She realized it was too early to put a trust on his word especially it came from Mr Kwon.

Seul still had her mother, she is the key to every questionable thing in her life.

If she could dig it from her mother, then she didn’t need Mr Kwon’s help. He wouldn’t do it for free, there’s always be an exchange of something every time people seal a deal with him.

Her loud ringtone brought her out of her trance, and she answered without even bother to look at the caller id “Seul! Thank god you are alive. Have you met him? Did he do something? Are you okay?” his panic voice rose from one octave to another.

“Nothing happen so can you calm down? Save your voice for tomorrow’s concert. I delivered the letter and leave before he could say anything” it was not the perfect time to tell Jin about the things in relation to her father. She would tell him when she’s sure Kwon’s words were not a mere bluff.

Jin disagreed “I can’t stay calm knowing you are with him! Don’t do that again. You are scaring me woman. Are you on your way home?” she hummed a soft yes and started walking.

“Then I will give you a company until you reach home” his crazy ideas made her smile.

“Don’t be silly, I am perfectly fine. Go to sleep Jin”

“This woman.. It is 9PM and you are sending me to bed already?”

Her nose scrunched up in annoyance “You have to wake up early tomorrow nevertheless, it is not a bad idea to sleep at this time” she defended her earlier statement.

“I am walking you home, that is my final decision! Now, how’s your day?” her eyes were rolled back digesting his cliché side, though deep down inside she could say this was a romantic gesture. With Jin’s soft voice rang in her ears along her journey back home, she feared nothing in this world.

His voice was gentle and soothing enough that it drove a part of the fear away.

With his voice, it shortens the distance to her home. Not to mention, every time she laughed at Jin’s silly dad jokes, half of her burdened were being lifted from her shoulder. Entering her building, she climbed the stairs tiredly unlocking the door. Kicking her shoes at the corner, she promised to clean it up the first thing when she woke up tomorrow. Seul hurried inside her room with Jin voice nagged in the background urging her to head to bed as soon as she reached home.

“Are you in your room?”

“Yes, Mr Kim. I am in my room” she threw her exhausted body on the bed, throwing arm over her head.

“Good, now get changed and rest. Text me a good night when you are done” Jin let out a soft chuckle.

“You are so demanding. Not even my boyfriend but you are acting like one” murmuring with eyes closed, she stretched a little.

He argued “I just walked you back home so appreciate me” Seul’s soft giggle tickled his heart. He sunk on his bed, laying on the cold mattress with a foolish smile across his face.

“So full of yourself, why I am not surprised”

“Consider this as our first date” he muttered.

“What?” bewildered, Seul sat up trying to brain the meaning behind those shady words. She heard his heavy breathing at the end of the line, as he continued “About, me walking you back home, consider it a date” out of a sudden his voice turned fifty shades darker and romantic, enticing every part of her body.

What the hell Kim Seokjin? That is cringy! Jin facepalmed.

“Don’t say anything, pretend that you misheard that. Oh gosh, I must go. Don’t forget to text me a good night! Bye Seul!” he spat the words out like flying bullets without giving the girl a chance to say anything and hung up.

Jin rolled on his bed, screaming in the pillow blaming his sloppy and foolish action. He was worried if that scare the girl away. Grunting in frustration, he felt like he just screwed up his blooming relationship with Seul.

Just what is wrong with me, Jin was frustrated and feeling a little remorseful over his action.

#btscaretaker #bts fic #bts series #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #yoongi x oc #yoongi fic #jungkook fic #jungkook x oc #jungkook fluff #jin x oc #jin fic #kim seokjin x oc #bts fluff #kpop fanfiction

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surveys-at-your-service · 3 years

Text

Survey #345

“this is the year where hope fails you / the test subjects run the experiment / and the bastards you know, is the hero you hate”

Do you have any scars from burns? No. Have you ever built a snowman? Yes. Growing up, Dad would always help my sisters and I make them. Good memories. How about a sand castle? Yeah, but not any impressive ones at all. Just the ones where you fill a pail with sand and flip it over. Have you ever used crutches? Tried when I tore a ligament in my foot, but the pair we had were too tall for me to use them comfortably at all, so I never really "used" them. Have you ever been in a tree house? No. Would you ever move to China? No. Did you ever go to daycare as a kid? I went to one for literally a day because Mom was disgusted with how I was treated. I accidentally wandered into the wrong room or something and one of the guardians slapped my hand when she scolded me, and I think I sobbed the rest of the day, but partially because I had AWFUL separation anxiety from my mom. Afterwards, Mom just had people she knew babysit my sisters and me. Who’s one of the most talented people you know? What are they talented at? As for people who are still in my life/I still consider to "know," I'm unsure, but only because there are so many talented people in my life. One of my older sisters is a fantastic cake decorator and artist in general, and my little sister is truly skilled with working with children; she's a kid magnet. Sara is really good at animation, and I wish she'd do it more! Do you usually pay with cash, debit card, or credit card? Cash. I don't have a credit or debit card. Are you the type of person who can make friends with just about anyone? Yeah, but I have my limits. I'm very open-minded and can befriend people with a wide range of beliefs and personalities, but I know where to draw the line. There comes a point where giving your friendship to someone is like passively supporting their ways, and I don't want to do that if those are overwhelmingly negative and/or hateful. Have you ever experienced a medical emergency? Well yeah, I overdosed on cold medicine. I was surprisingly okay, but I assume it's because I was taken to the hospital fast enough for fluids? Idk. What was the last thing you borrowed from someone? Ummm no clue. Are you muscular? Uh, no. When you go to a restaurant, do you prefer to sit at a booth or a table? Booth. What’s something you think everyone should do/experience at least once in their life? Love. Has your car ever been broken into? I don't have a car, but neither of my parents' has been. Have you ever recorded yourself doing a cover of a song? No. Do you watch television shows more in the dark or the day time? I just don't watch TV. Are there any movies out there that basically make you want to puke? None that I've seen, no. But I won't watch The Human Centipede for this exact reason, as I KNOW it would make me hurl. Any secrets you’d never tell anyone? No matter how close they are to you? Yes. Do you consider yourself a promiscuous person? Not even slightly. Do you know anyone who has AIDS? What about yourself? I don't know anyone with it, no, and I don't have it either. Has anyone ever mistaken you to be a member of the opposite sex? No. What’s your favorite hair color on the opposite sex that you love? I like colored hair, but if we're talking natural colors, then black. Have you ever had a child before? If so, what’s his/her name? Nope, never gonna have one. Which baby animal is your favorite? Meerkats for sure. I also love kittens. Do you like jam on your toast and biscuits? Yeah. Are there any plants in your home? No. What food does honey go best with? *shrug* Have you ever carved a pumpkin? Yeah. Have you ever reread a book? I read Because of Winn-Dixie twice, and I've read Meerkat Manor: Flower of the Kalahari countless times, although after the first read, I skipped over Clutton-Brock's massive tangents that had nothing to do with meerkats. They really took away from the book, imo. Would you ever like to own a chandelier? Sure, like above the dinner table. It's not a big deal for me, though. What scent is the last body wash you used? Oh my god, it's this cinnamon bun scent that I got for I think my b-day, and I LOVE it. It's going to suck when it's gone. Do you have any religious symbols in your home? Probably somewhere, I just don't pay attention. What religion do you identify with, if any? None. Do you enjoy flavored coffee? If so, which flavor is your favorite? I don't like coffee at all. Do you know someone who has asthma? Yeah, my mom. What is the most controversial thing you’ve done? Come out as bi, I guess. Other than interviews, do you ever “dress to impress?" No. Are you currently listening to music? Yeah: "The Man Who Made a Monster" by Dance With the Dead. When was the last time you got really nervous? I should NOT be blanking on this, but I sure am. I don't think I've been REALLY nervous in a while, but certainly nervous like... always. What was the first thing you ate today? I had a bagel. Have you ever had one of those elementary-school boy/girlfriends? No; I didn't have my first boyfriend 'til the 7th grade. Name something random in your car: I don't have my own car. What do you want to tell someone who has died (and who is it, if anything)? I wish I could tell Steve Irwin thank you and that he truly did change the world. I think a lot about just how unspeakably proud he would be of his children and how madly in love he'd be with Bindi's newborn. That family is the definition of wholesome, and I desperately wish Steve was still around. Have you ever stolen from a friend or family member? Wow, no. Would/did you cheat on someone for revenge? Or if they wouldn’t find out? No, that's incredibly childish. If you got pregnant right now, would you keep the baby? The only way I could get pregnant right now was if I was, God fucking forbid, raped. I don't think I'd be able to keep it; it would scar me for life, but at the same time, even though I'm pro-choice, I don't know if I could go through with an abortion without feeling like shit and forever thinking "well you could've just given it up for adoption." I don't like thinking about this topic. Any history with eating disorders (or tendencies)? No, thankfully. I've had bulimic thoughts before, but I've never acted on them. Does your family have a secret? No. If single, would you knowingly be who someone cheats on someone else with? Nooope. Guilt would eat me alive. Have you ever contemplated physically hurting yourself or another? I have hurt myself, but never other people. Choose one living person you’d like to meet. I won't have lived a full life w/o meeting Mark at least once laksdj;flakwjer. Who is someone you know would take a bullet for you? My mom would without a millisecond's hesitation. I'm sure Dad would, too. The next time you are on an airplane, where will you be traveling to? Most likely Illinois to visit Sara again. Where is your dad from? Ohio. Aside from your own, whose house did you last set foot into? My older sister's. What is something that makes you very squeamish? Vomit is #1. Do you even use an alarm clock, or do you just use your phone? I use my phone. Have you ever moved to a different state? No. Lived in NC my whole life. Can you do long division in your head? I can't do math in my head period. Do you have a wide imagination? Oh yes. Would you mind living on a farm? I wouldn't want to. Farms take way too much maintenance. Do you enjoy watching horror films? Oh yeah. Have you ever been to Niagara Falls? No, but I'd love to. Who are you in love with? Nobody. When is the last time you took a picture? I took a picture of Venus like a week ago when I had her out of her terrarium and she was just coiled between my arm and the laptop, totally chillin' out. I was IN a picture just a couple days ago, because my eldest sister came over to visit with her husband. It was great. Do you wash your own car or make the car wash do it? I don't have a car. Are you a fan of parties? Not big ones, no. I'd enjoy chilling out with a few people I'm friends with/know, just chatting and hanging out. Next trip you’re going to take? I don't know. My sister Misty's wedding is coming up soon, but we doubt we'll be able to go because of 1.) Mom's car would never make the drive, and 2.) Covid, and Mom's immunocompromised. It sucks, but she's being understanding about it. Were you in honor roll in school? Yeah. If you could know one thing about the future, what would it be? If I'll ever be happy with my life. What’s your favorite lunch meat? Ham. Do you drink your soda from a straw? I don't like to, no, because I drink faster via a straw, and I like to drag my soda out throughout the day so I don't go through more than I should. Do you like hot sauce? Yesssssss. Do you like Ellen Degeneres? Sure, she seems like a great person. Who do you think is the cutest celebrity? UMMMMMM like have you ever seen Mark Fischbach laugh?????? Did you ever play softball? For quite a long time as a kid, yeah. Would you like to live to be 110 years old? No, that sounds like torture. I don't want to live to where I'm essentially a walking (if even) corpse. No energy, no strength... no thanks. Do you like getting your picture taken? NO. Ever seen a tornado? Thank fuck no. When you were little, did you do gymnastics? No. Do you know anyone who is pregnant? I know a number of people who are. Two are due very soon. Do you like being the X or the O when you play tic-tac-toe? I like being the X. Have you ever tried crowd surfing? No. Do you like the movie Bambi? If so, who is your favorite on there? I've actually somehow never seen it, though I would like to. Do you like onion rings? No. Are you more afraid of going to the doctor or dentist? I'm not really afraid of either, but I dislike going to the doctor more. Have you ever been to an animal shelter? Yeah. Have you ever bought yourself or someone else lingerie? No. Have you ever had a serious issue involving your eyes? Nothing more than needing glasses. When you were a teenager, did your parents set rules about dating? Not really, besides the obvious age gap stuff. I was allowed to follow my heart with who I was interested in, really. Have you ever lived with a person who you tried to avoid at all costs? There were times like this with Dad when my parents were still together and he was in a bad mood, especially if he was drinking. Have you ever committed a crime that directly harmed another person? No. What is your worst childhood memory? There was this very weird three day period where I could've sworn up and down I was constantly on the verge of puking. On the third night, Mom finally took me to the hospital, but they couldn't find anything wrong. Oddly enough, I felt better the next morning... The whole situation was fucking awful for someone who was and still is terrified of vomiting. Do you remember where you first drove to after getting your license? I don't have my license. What did you get into trouble for the most when you were a kid? Being on the computer too much. What is your favourite game show to watch? Family Feud with Steve Harvey. When’s the last time had to cover a coworker’s shift? Never. Is there a word you have an emotional connection to? "Petrichor." How about a sound? Any emotional connection to a sound? LOTS of songs. Where is your favourite place to get fries? Bojangle's. Their seasoning is *chef's kiss* Do you always have a stock of alcohol in your house? No. Have you ever fainted? Yes. Do you get out of bed on the left side or right side? Left. Do you fall asleep with your mouth open or closed? It embarrasses me for some reason, but usually open, because I have a hard time breathing through my nose when I lie down for some reason? I don't take allergy medicine though when I'm really supposed to, so that might explain it... Is there a book you keep telling yourself you’ll read but still haven’t? I have Margaret Atwood's The Testaments that I want to read, but Wings of Fire has taken precedent, so I really don't know if I'll get to it. It would also be nice to catch up with Erin Hunter's Warriors, but that I know I won't do. Did your family ever own a vacation home? No. Have you ever opened a wine bottle? Nope. Have you been inside of a police station? No. What would you never change about yourself? I mean, there's a number of things. I would never allow myself to lose my empathy and compassion for others, for one. I'll never grow a head too big for my body. Do you pretty much need a car to get around where you live? Yeah. Public transport isn't a big thing here, especially outside the cities, and living in the South, places are pretty spread out/not within reasonable walking distance. Have you been to Australia? No, and I'm honestly too scared to go, even though I think it would be extremely cool. All the venomous animals just frighten me, and I find huntsman spiders to be TERRIFYING, regardless of how harmless they are. Do you mind drinking room-temperature water? UGH, I absolutely do mind. I HAVE to drink cold water. If it's even slightly on the warm side, it makes me want to gag.

#survey #surveys #questions #lyrics: ''pulse of the maggots'' by slipknot

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purplesurveys · 4 years

Text

1043

survey by egooverdose

Japan: What is one stereotype you associate with Asian countries/people? :/ :/ Uhm...

Jelly Bracelets: Do you have any? In which colors? Have you ever broken one? I seem to have forgotten what these refer to, but I’m sure I had a couple that didn’t last long. I wasn’t much into bracelets as a kid. Joakim Berg: Who is your favorite foreign singer|musician? Do you translate his or her lyrics? Beyoncé, I guess. All Americans are foreigners to me. I don’t translate her lyrics, nor do I do that with any other songs in English.

Josh Todd: Do you have any tattoos? If yes, what made you decide to get them? No, but I’d love a couple that symbolize important things or people, like a bowl of nachos for Nacho and each of my dogs’ pawprints.

kent: Say something in a foreign language? The word ‘kampana’ is Filipino for bell.

Kundera: What is one philosophy you have regarding life|living|purpose? Idk, I’m starting from scratch after the shitstorm that was this year. I have to find one again. I’m not rushing, though, and I want to give myself as long as I need to regather. Fuck knows I need to be kind to myself right now.

Learning: What is something you enjoy learning about? Off the top of my head, anything that doesn’t involve machines tbh. I can read about anything Wikipedia and encyclopedias have to offer, but I draw the line at factories and automobiles and engineering and robots and stuff lmao, it’s just not my thing.

Minimalist Interior Design: How would you design the inside of your own home? You already mentioned it; minimalist. I don’t want a lot of furniture and a lot of color in my space. I’d be happy with a minimal number of items organized in a meaningful way with some pastel shades here and there.

Miserable Weather: What is a weather-type that you like that not many others do? Thunderstorms, I guess? It’s been a hit or miss for me these days though; I’ve found myself crying more when it rains...but for the longest time I’ve enjoyed bleak and rainy weather. I’m not planning to drop it as my favorite just yet.

Morning: Are you friendly in the morning, or are you barely awake? I’m friendly at work from the start to the end of my shift because it’s the nice thing to do, and because I have to be. But I’m almost always anxious and on the brink of breaking down every morning. Since it’s WFH, no one from work has to know that.

Music: How important is music in your life? It’s slowly becoming significant again. I got a Spotify subscription for myself after years of sharing with Gab’s account lol, so I’ve been revisiting the music that I had to set aside for months while I had to grieve on my own. It was brutal the first few days and I cried a lot when I heard my go-to sad songs again, but I soon realized I need releases like that and so I’ve been a little more unafraid to listen to music each day.

Oasis: What is a band you remember liking from your childhood? Paramore? HAHAHAHA they were the first band I ever loved, man. And I’m happy I get to say I still very much love them.

Opinions: Do you ever get mad at people for not having the same opinion as you (i.e. Abortion being wrong|right, Meat-eating being wrong|right)? If it’s the kind of opinion that will step on fundamental human rights, like being vehemently against same-sex marriage, then we will have a problem. Otherwise, I don’t care if someone prefers Android or having pineapples on their pizza unless they’re being an asshole about it.

Orchids: What is your favorite type of flower? Does it grow where you live? Peonies. Idk, I guess so? I don’t speak flowers.

Outerspace: Do you think there's a possibility of life out there? There sure is; the universe is so vast. I wish we’re able to learn more in this lifetime, though; I wouldn’t want to miss out on future discoveries.

Photo-Editing: Do you edit any of your pictures? In what ways? Sometimes I’ll add a cute or flattering filter; that’s the furthest my editing skills go. I don’t use advanced applications like Photoshop and I don’t know how to remove moles or stray hairs or whatever.

Photography: If you like to take pictures, what is your motivation? I’m not into photography per se, like it’s not a hobby of mine or anything; but I do like taking photos of special or funny events. It’s nice to have a memento for a little bit of everything going on in my life.

Poland: Would you ever consider living anywhere cold? Yes. Maybe not Norway or Finland levels of cold, but somewhere considerably cooler than the humid hot mess I currently live in. When I went to Jeju four Aprils ago, they had the p e r f e c t temperature I could ever ask for and it was sooooo perfectly and comfortably cold in that I got to walk around in shorts but I never shivered or got goosebumps.

Potatoes: What is your absolute favorite food? It used to be burgers, but my mom has been making so many cheeseburgers the last few weeks that I need to take a break from them lol. Right now, my favorite would be sushi.

Questions: Do you like to ask questions, or answer them? Answer them, hence this blog.

Quirks: What are some weird things about you? Depends on what you count as weird. By far, people have been weirded out the most by the fact that I don’t eat fruits and will avoid them like the plague. I don’t mind the reactions and it’s actually turned out to be a great icebreaker, so I whip out that factoid pretty often haha.

Quizzes: When was the last time you were tested on something? I had a blood test last May because we needed to know if my fever was dengue or something else. Turned out to be a UTI.

Radiohead: Do you like any depressing bands? After Laughter is sad as shit but I wouldn’t say Paramore is generally known by this image. None of the other bands I listen to would count as ‘depressing.’

Rings: How would you describe the size of your fingers? They’re long and slender, which I love.

Satire: Do you enjoy political satire? It’s a hit or miss. I generally don’t seek it out.

Singing: Who do you know personally that has a nice singing voice? Leigh.

Skinny Jeans: Would you wear them? Or do you hate them? I wear them, but I hate them.

Smashing Pumpkins: Listen to the band, or take it literally and actually GO smash pumpkins? xD Neither.

Snakes: Would you ever wear snake-skin pants, or other animal clothing? I used to wear leather shoes because it was required for school. I avoid the practice now.

Snow: What, to you, is the best part about snow|snowy weather? You tell me, lol. I’ve never experieinced snow before.

Space: Do you like to have your own space? Are you independent? It’s definitely important to have it every now and then; I’m actually taking this survey from a Starbucks because I needed so baddddd to get out of the house. It’s the first time I’m out on my own without having to do errands since March, and it feels kinda nice.

As for being independent, I’ve been mostly a dependent person and I like having people to lean on, but my breakup has also been pushing me out of my comfort zone and to try out new things just by myself. We’ll see where this takes me in a few months.

Starry Nights: When was the last time you gazed at the night sky? Last Saturday.

Stockholm: What foreign country would you like to go to for a shopping spree? Do I really have to go to another country for this? Hahahahaha idk maybe Shanghai? The people there were dressed so well when I visited.

Studded Belts: Do you own any? What do you think of them? Nope.

Suave Shampoo: What is your favorite shampoo scent? Brand? I don’t have a preference for either. As long as it’s able to clean my hair, it’s fine.

Sunglasses: What kind do you own|wear, if any? Do you like them? I don’t really. I don’t like my vision getting tinted.

Surveys: How many surveys do you think you have taken since you've started? My old survey blog has nearly 1500 while this one has a little over 1000, then add what’s probably a few hundreds that I did in 5th grade but never saved anywhere...so maybe somewhere between 2500 to 2700 in total? Hahaha I honestly thought it would be more.

Sweden: Do you ever feel like you should have been born in another country? I think nearly everyone from the Philippines thinks this.

Swedish Fish: What is a candy you often enjoy? Gummy anything.

Tea: Do you like tea more than coffee, or the other way around? I love coffee; I’m drinking one right now :D I never enjoyed tea.

The Beatles: My brother gets mad if people say they aren't the best band ever; what about you? Then I guess I shouldn’t be talking to him.

Theories: What do you think will happen to you after you die? Sleep.

Thom Yorke: If you met your favorite musician, what would you ask him|her? If we were in a Covid-free society, all I’d ask for is a hug, really. I wouldn’t have anything to ask them.

Thought: What do you spend most of your day thinking about? I’m still grieving about the stuff I’ve already covered.

Thought-Provoking Conversation: What do you consider deep? This would be a little hard to verbalize and I don’t really feel like describing rn. I guess you can say this question in itself is deep, ha.

Tokyo: Where is a busy place you would like to go to? Aw man what an innocent question. I wish I could show this survey-maker what a trainwreck 2020 has been and how ‘busy places’ virtually don’t exist anymore, at least for now.

Unpretentious Gestures: If someone pays you a compliment, do you take it to heart, or do you pass it off as just flattery? I take it to heart, but I’m not always able to receive it well.

Video Games: Do you think they cause people to become violent? No. I spent my childhood going on killing rampages on GTA and I’m still unlikely to resort to violence.

Vocabulary: What was the last word you learned? The term ‘low latency.’

Warsaw: What is a funny fact about your heritage? Good question, but I can’t think of any at the moment. I don’t really think ‘funny’ when I look for facts to absorb but now I want to look this up haha.

Web Design: Have you or could you build your own site? My principal requirement for my Online Journalism class was to make my own website/blog, actually. But Covid blew up and we ended up having to cancel the entire semester altogether, so my classmates and I never got to pursue more of that class other than our first few meetings, which were used for lectures.

Winter: How long|cold are winters in your area? It does not even exist.

Words: How many pages of words do you think you type a day? Maybe like 5 or 6. It’s a WFH set-up, so I’m exclusively on the laptop typing away the entire week.

Writing: Do you try to avoid it, or do you embrace it? I embrace it as long as I don’t have to write fiction or prose. I like writing, but only through journals and surveys.

#survey #surveys

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echo-bleu · 4 years

Note

You always address Alex’s disability so thoughtfully in your writing. “I wish you’d write a fic where...” Michael thinks Alex is blowing him off, but he’s actually at a medical appointment for his leg.

Thank you!! This is a great prompt, I loved writing it. I set out to write maybe 500 words, but as usual that’s not what happened. I hope you like it!

Wordcount: 2322

Also on AO3

Lunch at the Crashdown? Michael types out while getting ready for his day. It's Saturday, so Alex should be off work and they can finally have that date they've been planning. Michael wanted it to be yesterday night, but Isobel dragged him with her to the Wild Pony instead. She keeps doing that, to the point that Michael is starting to suspect his sister isn't going to that bar for the beer.

Not today, sorry, Alex answers after a few minutes.

Michael frowns. He and Alex have been going out for a couple of months now, in that weird limbo between friendly outings and dates where they stay in public to keep themselves accountable. It precludes anything but the chastest kisses, and then only when Alex doesn't freak out at being out in a homophobic town, but it has made them actually talk rather than fall in bed at the first occasion, so they've agreed to keep going.

But this is the third Saturday in a row that Alex has blown him off without an explanation. Michael doesn't understand. He doesn't often have his Saturdays free, since five days a week don't quite bring him the income he needs to keep up with his recently extended social life. But he's been picking up restoration jobs around town that pay much better than car-tweaking recently, so it's allowed him to take his weekends off.

And Alex doesn't want to have lunch with him.

Okay, he answers simply, sadness pinching at his chest. He doesn't bother to offer another option. Alex is allowed not to want to spend time with him, he supposes, and he'll see him tomorrow at Isobel's anyway.

He drags himself to his car instead, deciding that since he doesn't have a lunch date, he might as well do something useful with himself. He picks up some groceries at the store, then heads to the hospital, where he and Liz have been working at her lab since it was rebuilt.

Liz briefly looks up from her microscope to smile at him when he walks in.

“Hi Mickey! What are you doing here on a Sunday?”

“I could return the question,” Michael says.

“I didn't really have anything else to do,” Liz shrugs. She's been working a lot, both for her actual paying job and on their side projects. Max's resurrection, it turns out, is not an overnight thing, even once they figured out how to restart his heart. He needs to rebuild the huge amount of energy that he lost, and that means he's still in a coma, hooked up to machines Alex bought off the Internet and Valenti set up in his house. So, coupled with Rosa leaving town, Michael gets why Liz uses work to take her mind off things.

“I think Alex blew me off again,” he says.

“Alex? I just saw him,” Liz frowns, her eyes still on her microscope.

“Here?”

“Yeah, he had a gap between appointments, so he came to say hello.”

“Appointments?” Michael stops in the middle of setting up his station in surprise.

“Hm. PT or something. You wanted to see him?”

“I wanted to have lunch with him.”

“Alex never does Saturday lunches,” Liz says absently. “The last time he did, we spent the afternoon with Maria and Mimi and he was so exhausted I had to drive him home before we made it to dinner. That's why Isobel settled for Sunday brunches even though Kyle has to bail off every other week. I thought everyone knew that.”

At Michael's silence, she finally looks up. “Wait, you really thought Alex just brushed you off?”

Michael nods wordlessly. He feels like an asshole, suddenly. But then, Alex didn't tell him.

“Wow. Um, I feel like I shouldn't have just told you all this.” Liz bites her lip. “You didn't know?”

“It's okay,” Michael says, his heart in his throat.

“Alex doesn't like talking about this, but I don't understand why he didn't at least tell you−”

“It's okay, Liz,” Michael repeats. “I...I didn't ask. We haven't really talked about this stuff.”

“Well maybe you should. He could use another friend. Someone more available than me or Maria.”

Michael just nods and gets to work. Liz's words have triggered a hurricane in his head, and he needs to quiet it down. He longs for a guitar, but working is the next best thing. How has he missed so much of Alex's life? Even Isobel seems to know more about him than Michael, and yet he hadn't even noticed that Alex isn't really letting him in.

Grand declarations of love and epic sex are not the same as actual communication, but Michael thought they were finally getting there. After the mess with Maria−a fling that ended after just one kiss when Max died, but still hurt them all more than Michael ever wanted it to−it's taken him months to gain Alex's trust back, but he thought that was behind them now, that they were working on building a solid relationship. But how much is Alex still holding back?

They need to talk, Michael realizes. They need to talk before his head manages to spin this into anger and resentment. There could be some innocuous reason why Alex doesn't want to share his Saturdays with him, why he didn't tell him about his medical appointments.

Before he can change his mind, he types a text on his phone. Can we do dinner? I can come over with Crashdown burgers. They haven't done this yet, eaten at each other's place rather than a neutral public space, but maybe it's time. Michael can easily imagine that Alex doesn't want to spill out medical details in a crowded bar.

Alex doesn't answer for another two hours. Michael forces himself to work rather than spin out, until Liz drags him with her to have lunch with her father. Michael feels bad for imposing on their time together, but Arturo must feel how much he needs a distraction as well as his daughter, because he treats Michael to a mountain of food and a dozen different anecdotes about Liz's childhood.

Okay. I have beers. Michael stares at his phone for a moment, lost in thoughts, then sends a thumb-up emoji back.

“That Alex?” Liz asks kindly. She knows what's on his mind, of course she does. She and Michael have grown pretty close in nearly six months of working together in the lab and holding each other up after Max died.

“Yeah. I'm meeting him for dinner.”

“Good. You want to visit with Max until then? I've been trying to read to him in hope that it will wake him up, but it's a bit lonely.”

“Sure,” Michael accepts. It will give him something to do, at least. And he can't imagine what it's like for Liz, who has moved into Max's house to be able to look over him. She needs all the company she can get.

Max seems a little more responsive than two days ago when Michael last swung by. Valenti was able to wean him off the ventilator over a week ago, and he opens his eyes more and more often, though he can't yet talk. It's going in the right direction, at least.

A little before six, allowing for the drive to Alex's cabin, Michael goes back to the Crashdown to pick up the order he gave Arturo. He tries not to let his mind wander too much on the way, because he doesn't want to be angry when he gets to the cabin. He thinks of the positive instead. He's going to see Alex. Even after months, he still marvels that he can just take his car and drive to him, rather than have to imagine him half a world away, maybe in danger, always out of reach.

Alex greets him with a tired smile and, when he steps back to let him in, Michael realizes he's leaning on his crutches. His prosthesis is off, the leg of his sweat pants pinned up, and he's wearing an oversize Star Wars hoodie Michael knows he wouldn't be caught dead with in public.

“Hey. Are you okay?” Michael frowns a little.

“Yeah, just tired,” Alex answers. He drops back on the couch rather than offer his help with dinner, which tells Michael that he must be in pain, too. “Beer's in the fridge.”

“If you need to sleep or something, I don't have to stay,” Michael says, despite his instinct to smother Alex with care.

“No, it's all good. I do need to eat, and I miss you. Bring me water, though, please?”

Michael comes back from the kitchen with a beer for himself and a glass of water for Alex, and starts unloading the Cashdown paper bag on the coffee table, since Alex doesn't seem to want to move from the couch. “I got some milkshakes, I know you like to dip your fries,” he says. “Not that I'll ever agree with that.”

Alex snorts lightly. “Thanks. Sounds nice.”

“Alex, can I ask−”

Alex looks down at his hands. “Yeah. I've been waiting for you to ask for a while, actually.”

“Really? I didn't...I didn't want to intrude, and I figured maybe I was already asking for too much time with you. But I spent the day with Liz, and she said she saw you this morning−”

“No, no, it's not about you, okay? I want to spend time with you,” Alex stops him. “I'm sorry, I should have given a reason.”

“I'm not entitled to your time, even though I tend to forget it,” Michael says. “That's what Liz made me realize.”

Alex watches him for a moment, then nods. Needing something to do with his hands, Michael hands him a burger and arranges the cartons of fries between them. They eat for a while in silence. It's not an easy, natural silence, not quite, but it's not tense, either. Just expectant.

“I have back to back appointments every Saturday morning,” Alex explains. “Shrink, then PT, then the prosthetist every other week. They often run over lunchtime and I'm usually too tired to do anything else for the rest of the day.” He keeps his gaze firmly on his food, and Michael hates to think that he's ashamed. “PT's pretty brutal right now. We're trying out some blades, so it's a lot of running and jumping around. It makes me really sore, so that's why I have my leg off.”

Michael nods slowly. “I feel awful for thinking that you were blowing me off,” he says. At Alex's aborted huff of annoyance, he realizes that he's once again bringing it back to himself. Damn. He needs to start thinking before he talks. “I mean, thank you for telling me.”

“I didn't want to say yes to lunch and then show up late, or bail on you because I'm too tired.”

“I understand, Alex.” Michael reaches out almost by reflex, taking Alex's hand in his. “I get it, it's fine. I wouldn't have asked at all if I'd known. I'm realizing that I've never shown interest in your...health. It's not because I don't care, I do.”

“There's probably a lot we still don't know about each other, Guerin,” Alex says. Michael raises an eyebrow at the use of his last name, an old habit that Alex has given up for the most part. But it's an appropriate reminder of their history. “We missed ten years of each other's life. Just because I know your big secret doesn't mean we don't have anything left to share.”

“I want to share things, though,” Michael breathes.

“Yeah, me too. This,” Alex gestures to his leg, “It's hard. I don't want to...it's hard to let myself look vulnerable. Even to you. Especially to you, sometimes.”

“Especially?”

“You remember what you said, 'if anyone's gonna destroy me, it might as well be you'? Sometimes I feel like I shouldn't give you too much ammunition. Because when you lash out, you know exactly where to strike.”

Michael reels back from that, shocked. “Is this about something I said recently?” he asks.

Alex shakes his head. “No. Look, I'm not saying that to argue with you. I'm just...trying to show you where I come from. With my father and my brothers, and then in the Air Force...any vulnerability you show will be turned against you. So my default mode is to hide. I don't want to be like that with you, but you've done it before, too. You go straight for the throat when you're hurt.”

“Shit,” Michael mutters. “You're not wrong. I don't like that it's my defense mechanism, but it is. I can't help it sometimes.”

“I know,” Alex says with a sad smile.

“I can't promise that it will never happen again, but I can promise to work on it? Like...I don't even know how, off the top of my head, but there has to be a way. I−I want to say that things like your leg will always stay off limits, but−”

“You can't promise that, either,” Alex murmurs. “I get that, too. Maybe I just need to take a leap of faith and decide to trust you.”

Michael bites his lip. “Maybe we could meet in the middle?”

Alex meets his gaze, large brown eyes shining just a little, and he nods slowly. Michael leans closer, putting down his fry, and their mouth meet before he even has his hand around Alex's neck.

“In the middle, yeah,” Alex breaks their kiss briefly to shift into a more comfortable position. “Sounds good.” He crashes his mouth against Michael's again.

Michael closes his eyes. This isn't a problem solved, not even close. But they can work on it, and that's all he needs for now.

#roswell nm #malex fic #alex manes #michael guerin #malex #liz ortecho #prompt fill #thank you so much for the prompt!#mine #echo's fanfiction

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alexispignataro1 · 4 years

Text

Abortion

Abortion Proposal Argument

Abortion is a common procedure that is preformed in all parts of the world and often the most controversial. Over 25 million non medical abortions are preformed yearly in countries where abortions are considered illegal, which is highly dangerous and also puts the mother at risks. Many things can make someone decide whether an abortion is preferable for them such as if they are not financially fit to take care of a baby, if they have medical problems where it would result in them dying, or if the baby is at risk for having medical problems. Abortions should be legal because they will continue to happen whether it is legalized or not, the issue is drawing a line on where it is acceptable, and where it is inhumane.

As we can see, criminalizing abortions does not stop them, it just increased the risk of other people. If someone is willing to put their own life at risk to terminalize an unwanted pregnancy, there must be something done about it. Not all abortion should be legalized by any means, if someone is 8 months pregnant they should not be able to walk into an abortion clinic and have an abortion preformed on them, but up to a certain extent abortion should be legalized everywhere. A fetus us unable to feel pain until after 20 weeks in the womb, this being said, that should be the cut off date for when abortions should be legal. There should be some other rules saying that if the mothers life is at risk past the 20 week point, they should be able to get a legalized abortion to save their life. The fetus at 20 weeks has not yet formed organs and does not yet have pain receptors, so abortions preformed at this point will not hurt the fetus. The cost should remain the same as the price it is now, which is around $400 , if they are willing to get it, they should be willing to pay for it. If they cannot afford it, there can be payment plans set up and they can pay it off over time.

Many countries think that abortions are not okay and they they should not take place, those same countries tend to have the highest rate of illegal abortions. Having abortions legalized can potentially save the lives of many expectant mothers who do not want to cary their babies to full term. Many people can argue that this is taking away a life, but having a baby puts some mothers lives at risk. Not everyone is able to have a complication-free birth process, and they should have the right to fight for their own life rather than the fetus’. It is also possible for the baby itself to undergo some problems while it is in the womb. Mothers who know that their babies will not make it past infantry, or even birth, should definitely get a say in whether they would like to terminate the pregnancy before they have to go through an even harder time with birthing the baby and having it die.

Many parents who do decide to go full term with their pregnancy are not financial, or even mentally, ready to take care of a child. In these cases the children are put into foster care until they find a home. There are around 400,000 children currently in the foster system of the United States alone. Many of these kids get abused by their foster parents, develop mental illness and other horrible things. If a mother knew that their child would be in that position due to them not being able to take care of them, they should be able to decide if they want an abortion because they are not able to provide the baby with the life it deserves. Having more kids in the foster care system, or having parents needing to go on food stamps or other types of cash assistance because of their children, will cost the government a lot of money. Another common argument is that a form of protection should have been used and there are other precautions that should have taken place to prevent the pregnancy in the first place, but that is not the case. Forms of birth control are not easily available for all people, especially people in developing countries, and no form of birth control is proven to be 100% effective. This being said, someone can take all the precautions and still end up with an unwanted pregnancy and it should be their decision on what to do with it.

It can be argued that many people will get abortions for selfish reasons and not in cases where it is needed, but having the person getting the abortion pay for it themselves will defenitly lower this risk. Another issue that someone may have with my solution is that the potential parent should have planned more accordingly and prevented the pregnancy all together, but like I stated before, it is not always that easy and “accidents” where all precautions were taking place and a child was still conceived does occur. There is also the case where the mother could have been impregnated as a result of a rape, they should not have to carry their abusers baby or have it as a constant reminder of the horrific incident that took place, especially if they did not even want the baby.

In a perfect world, every expectant mother would have a risk-free pregnancy and have enough money to pay for it, but that is not the world that we live in. Many factors such as financial issue, problems with the foster care system, and medical problems relating to the pregnancy stand ground for being a adequate reason that an abortion would be needed. Having abortion be legal within the first 20 weeks of the pregnancy will keep the fetus from feeling pain, and will get rid of fatalities due to illegal abortions. Terminating a pregnancy is not something that anyone wants to go through, but in some cases, it is the last resort and is what is needed.

Bibliography

3 Reasons Why Abortion Should Be Legal. fizzymag.com/articles/3-reasons-why-abortion-should-be-legal.

Jones, Clarissa. “Top 10 Reasons Abortion Should Be Legal.” List Land, 27 Aug. 2019, www.listland.com/top-10-arguments-in-support-of-abortion/.

“Here Are the Basic Facts about Abortion That You Should Know.” Amnesty International, www.amnesty.org/en/what-we-do/sexual-and-reproductive-rights/abortion-facts/.

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thatshithurted8 · 5 years

Text

When You Grow Up (II)

Part 1

Summary: After months of not seeing each other, Tom realises how big of a mistake he made.

Length: 2,040

Warnings: None I don’t think

A/N I feel really bad for posting this right now, since I wanted to write in order of when the requests for blurbs or imagines came in (that seems fair to me.) But these past few weeks have been really busy and hectic. Not only have my panic attacks been coming back, but I feel stumped in writing because of them. I have plans for the requests that you guys have requested, but as of right now this is the only one I’ve been able to focus on and want to write if that makes sense? I just want to apologise for the requests being out of order, but if you did request for me to write something just know that I’m working on them it just might be awhile! Thank you guys again for your support on my writing! <3

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Six months. It’s been six months since Tom left you and your guys’ unborn child. You haven’t seen him since the day you told him you were pregnant.

It’s not like you could see him though, you talked to the dean at your school and they agreed for you to finish your current semester online. Because of this you decided to move back in with your parents. After all, living in an apartment building that had fellow college students partying in it every other night was not an ideal living situation for a pregnant lady, and not to mention you were in desperate need of your parents emotional support.

As your stomach grows day by day you start to miss Tom less and less. However, this didn’t make the situation you were in any less hard on you. You were having his child for God’s sake. Even though you started to miss Tom less and you didn’t think about him as much some days were harder than others.

At times it would hit you how fast your life has changed, but you wouldn’t change it for the world after looking at ultrasound pictures of your baby. A part of you wishes you didn’t let your emotions get in the way when you told Tom about your pregnancy because maybe he’d still be here with you, but after he told you to abort the baby that you already had so much love for, you lost it.

Ever since that fateful day you haven’t used any type of social media and you couldn’t be more grateful. You’re one hundred percent sure your messages are flooded of acquaintances asking what happened between you and Tom, which is none of their business, but the main reason why you seemingly fell off of the face of the earth was because so many people told you that Tom was going to hurt you and that you should run while you can. You often wonder if one of those people that are filling up your messages is Tom. Has he tried to contact you? Or did he truly mean everything he said on that day six months ago?

Little did you know he did try to get into contact with you. He opted for face to face contact first to show how truly sorry he was and how much he wanted a family with you. However, his last resort was calling you.

Every time he showed up at your apartment no one was home and on the odd time someone was home, it was your roommate Annika that made sure to be extra sassy to the brunette. Tom went to places he knew you would be at, like your work as a barista or your favourite restaurants but, you were never there.

A month after you guys broke up he found a box waiting for him outside of his apartment door after one of his classes. He brought it inside and placed it on the kitchen counter before opening it. Inside was a letter and some of his stuff that he left at your place.

His heart instantly dropped as he started to read the letter, “I’m moving back in with my parents if you need me you have my number and you know where they live.”

Even though you were now living across town it felt like Tom officially lost you. Tom’s pain didn’t ease as he dug through the cardboard box. His clothes that he let you borrow smelt like your perfume and memories started to flood back just by the scent. His eyes start to water as his picks up a framed picture of you two that was taken on the first valentines day you guys spent together. Tears begin to fall as he picks up the teddy bear he won for you at a fair.

His heart drops once again when he picks up the items from the bottom of the box. It was a positive pregnancy test and the onesie you gave him to announce your pregnancy. That’s when the panic hit him and he began to full on sob, letting the objects fall from his hands as the panic attack creeps in.

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Six months later, Tom is currently walking around Target searching for popcorn and brownie mix with his new girlfriend that he claims to love. Tom and Chelsea have been dating for the past four months thanks to Harrison. After all the blonde was the one to introduce the two to each other.

Haz finally had enough of watching his best mate wallow away in self pity and waste a night of partying to sit beside his phone, as if he would build up the guts to call you.

The blue eyed boy forced Tom out of their shared apartment one Friday night claiming that it’s best to forget about you and move on. Despite Tom’s objections to the idea he found himself in a heated make out session with Chelsea, a mutual friend of Harrison just a few hours later. Ever since then it has been history.

When Tom and Chelsea walk down the junk food isle, hand in hand, Tom stops dead in his tracks, like a deer in headlights when he see’s what’s in front of him, causing his heart to beat a mile a minute and his stomach to fill with butterflies.

On the other side of the isle, you stood talking to your sister with two types of chips in your hands. He could tell that you were deciding on which bag you were going to get and his heart flutters remembering how indecisive you are.

His eyes analyse you, but instantly land on your stomach. As he looked at you he did the math in his head, realising you were currently seven months pregnant since he later found out that you were a month pregnant when you told him. A sudden thought falls upon Tom and he’s not sure if he likes it, he’s already missed his unborn child grow inside of you, how much is he going to miss when the baby is here? This thought terrified him.

“Babe.” Chelsea says annoyed moving her hand in front of Tom’s face.

“Huh uh what?” Tom asks, his eyes breaking away from admiring you. He didn’t even notice Chelsea left his grasp to grab the brownie mix. But when his eyes come into contact with his girlfriend he feels a bad feeling start to wash over him. In this moment he realised that dating Chelsea was a mistake and he didn’t want her anymore. Just looking at her face makes him feel disgusted by his actions.

“You’ve been staring at that girl for awhile do you know her?” She asks concerned since she’s never seen Tom act this way.

“I-uh yea she’s an old friend.”

“Why don’t we go say hi to her instead of stare at her like a weirdo then?” She asks before grabbing Tom’s large hand and walking towards you.

“No no it’s okay we don’t have to.” Tom says, starting to panic while trying to escape from his girlfriends grasp. However, whenever Chelsea wants something, she gets it.

As the two come closer your sister looks up from the red shopping cart she’s leaning on, her eyes meet Tom’s and she instantly glares at the man in front of her. Disgust evident on her face, making Tom feel even more nervous.

“Who are you death glaring?” You ask as you turn around to see what your sister was staring at, with the bags of chips still in your hands.

When your eyes land on the male that is approaching you it feels like a punch in the gut. All of the feelings you have for Tom that you ignored and blocked out of your life for the past six months come flooding back.

It felt like hours before Tom and the unfamiliar girl are standing in front of you. You and Tom stare at each other as the girl with him begins to talk.

“Hey, uh this is weird, but Tom over here says you guys are old friends and I thought that it would be a great idea for you two to say hello or catch up!” The unnamed girl says causing you to slightly cringe at how enthusiastic she was, especially at this hour of night.

“Hi.” You softly say before looking at the floor.

“Hi.” Tom says breathlessly, taking in your presence. He couldn’t believe that after all of this time he’d run into you at twelve am on a Saturday night in the middle of Target.

After a moment of awkward silence Tom speaks up again after being nudged by Chelsea. “Uh Y/N this is my girlfriend, Chelsea.” Tom says introducing the girl he was with to you, but this time it was his turn to look at the ground.

You didn’t know what to say so you barely audibly say “Oh.” How dare he get a girlfriend after a year and a half of not having a label on your guys’ so called relationship? Let alone the fact he decides to finally commit to someone after knocking you up. You were beyond furious and hurt.

Luckily for you, your sister sensed the change in your mood. “I think we better get going. We had a big day today and I know Y/N is beyond tired.” She announces with a fake kindness to her voice.

Tom watches as you place the chips into your cart before you and your sister turn around to walk away. “Wait!” He says a little bit too loudly in the quiet store causing you turn around.

“How are you and the baby?”

You didn’t expect him to ask that question and you were taken aback. “We’re good he’s due in two more months.”

“You’re pregnant!” Chelsea squeals. “I didn’t even realise! You look so good for how far along you are. Congratulations to you and the father.” She says with a toothy smile on her face. You really wanted to hate her, but what gave you the right to when Tom was the one to move on?

“Thank you.” You say with a closed mouthed smile. As you two exchange words it gives Tom time to gather his thoughts.

“It’s a boy?” The brunette randomly blurts out. Your eyes glance over to the man that broke your heart and you simply nod your head yes.

“Have you picked out a name?” He asks as his eyes start to water.

“Alexander Stanley Y/L/N.”

You notice a tear fall from one of Tom’s eyes that he quickly wipes away so Chelsea doesn’t see. You could tell that it hit him hard that your sons middle name is the same as Tom’s.

Chelsea opens her mouth to say something, but you quickly interject, trying not to have another conversation. “It was nice meeting you Chelsea and seeing you Tom, but we gotta get going.” You say with a tight lipped smile and nodding back to your sister.

“You too!” Chelsea smiles grabbing a hold of Tom’s hand and beginning to walk away as you do the same in the opposite direction.

Tom remained silent not being able to process that he lost the best thing to ever happen to him because he wasn’t ready to give up his life style. He never told you that, but that was the main reason why he didn’t want the baby. But seeing you and your large stomach it makes him realise this isn’t what he wants. None of this is what he wants. Not Chelsea. Not popularity. Not getting wasted every weekend.

He wants you and the baby, that’s it.

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You groan as you read the time on the digital clock on your nightstand. It was currently 4:26 in the morning and you were not happy to be awoken by your phone buzzing.

You pick it up off of the nightstand and scroll through your notifications, but stop when you read one that came in at 2:54 am.

Tom: Hey Y/N I know you don’t want anything to do with me, but I need to talk to you. Can we meet up for coffee or something?

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Tags: @bellamyblakemorley @mashed-potatoes-forlife @hpnjrph @buckyxwintersxldier @karlitabi-rrito @hollandshearteyes @sunnytkm23

#tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland smut #tom holland fluff #tom holland x reader #tom holland angst #peter parker #peter parker smut #peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker angst #spiderman #spiderman homecoming #spiderman far from home #marvel #Avengers #harrison osterfield

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pack-the-pack · 5 years

Note

Any thoughts on the aftermath of mating bites? I have a headcanon that taking care of the other's bite until its healed is a huge part of strengthening a pair's mating bond. Do you think Alphas would take pride in changing the Omegas bandages every day? Or feel guilty for for causing them pain? Would Omegas fret over using the best salves and anti-inflammatory medicine?

Honestly I adore this idea. But as in most of the asks I answer my response is not just “yes, pretty much” or “No” lol Yeeea, sorry about that guys… I do think that overall the biting and the care for it is an intimacy majority of couples take pride on, but I also think the process and importance itself might change depending on personal preference of the couple, culture, time period and social and economic status. Yes We are going there again, fasten your seat belts kids, cause it’s time for a History lesson, Pack style!!!

Warning: Mentions of death, abortions, mental illness, sexual stuff and all sorts of ancient hi jinks in an incredibly lengthy post (cut possibly unavailable on mobile cause tumblr is garbage).

Disclaimer: A lot of what I’m basing these fictional concepts in is very eurocentric because that’s what I know best, I am not a historian, I am not an archaeologist or a biologist, I have no degree on no nothing let alone an specialisation on anything relevant enough to be used as educated sources for what I’m about to write. This is just for fun okay, guys? So no need to rub your years of hard work and experience on my face or be like “well actually-!”, cause it will be like just, cool to know? But very unlikely taken into account past that, so just, relax m’kay? Thanks…… Also a lot of my knowledge on these things just comes from the “History of the entire world I guess” video so yeaaa.

So first and foremost, the types of things one would use to treat mating bites. Again, I think there are variants regarding time period and culture, but I think every culture would end up coming up with rather similar things, or overlapping methods of treating such scarring, and I made a little drawing for it :3 Nothing, great, nothing awesome, but because this ask inspired me to draw something.

(Kind of messy, my pottery is kind of crooked and I totally intended for the background to be grey and didn’t just fuck up cleaning up on the wrong layers and had to pretend that was the original plan, you’re imagining, but it’s from the heart c’mon).

Before people had this fancy thing called modern medicine, they had to rely solely on instinct, anecdotes and superstition to make their medication, and of course, bite treatment wasn’t any different.

Whenever an Alpha would bite an Omega or a Beta or vice verse, the glands around the bite area would get irritated, itchy and achy. The most ancient method of soothing these aches was mud, just plain out wet dirt, applied to the area and left there to dry and reapplied only when the entirety of the first batch cracked and fell off naturally during daily activities. It was the hottest trend amongst packs 50.000 b.c. - Though there is also evidence of animal fat being used for the same purpose as well as snow.

With the end of the Paleolithic period and the invention of agriculture things started to get more advanced, now people have bowls, and lots of seeds… and grains! Grains and seeds that they can squeeze really hard and it makes residue come out of them. This is when various types of oils started to pop all around along with various simple mixtures of flour and water. Many clay statues and other rudimentary paintings from these periods show a variety of deities and rituals that existed around the manufacturing of these products and there are indications that the importance of treating bite wounds only then started to become somewhat of a significant part of mated couples’ lives. It was believed that these smaller human settlements created by the first sedentary packs, aka warrens, didn’t make distinction between the Eleusinian¹ and Asterian² dynamics when it came to mating bites and the treatments of such. Omegas would bite and care for the marks they inflicted on Alphas just as much as Alphas and Betas to one another or other Omegas. It was only when these warrens started to grow into full blown villages and subsequently distinctive cities that these differences started to develop.

Once these villages and cities started to gain shape and power, social hierarchy took on a new dimension beyond sole survival. Alphas no longer concerned themselves solely with the survival of their own small pack and hunting food to provide for their mates and children, Betas no longer concerned themselves with just assisting Alphas and Omegas in their daily activities as well as primarily caring for crops and animals, and Omegas no longer only cared to make sure their children and pack were in good health and cared for. Farming and the domestication of animals allowed everyone to have more time for architecture, writing, laws, politics, dancing, music, religion and most important of all: Figuring out how to divide people in a way that totally doesn’t benefit everyone equally, as one do. So now you got social classes and cultural diversity, and these come with different ways of treating mating bites. So around the period of the Bronze age to when the Greeks were like really important (specially cause a lot of the terminology and ideas about the dynamics carried nowadays comes from them and the Romans in western society) methods and materials started to shift a bit, but not drastically. Herbs like mint and parsley, flowers like lavender and aconite, roots like ginger and marsh mallow, and oils like that from olives, frankincense or sesame seeds as well as animal derived products such as wax from bees or blood and fat from animals and sometimes even metals like iron started to pop up all around from east to west as cures for all sorts of ailments and diseases. Brought through the sea or through land by merchants (rhizotomiki) who crossed nations and continents, carrying with them they brought all sorts of new superstitions and beliefs about mating bites. Flowers said to be born from rivers or lakes of eternal youth, roots and spices made of fire itself, honey directly from the mouth of deities or roots that’d kill any spiritual disease started gaining popularity quickly with pretty much everyone seen as a lot of these were said to provide for good fortune and happy and prosperous marriages if incorporated on biting rituals. Oracles and religious leaders would advise their followers and rulers to consume certain things before mating and to care for their bites and their partners with extra amounts of care because all of a sudden they started to become super important. Deaths, famine, bad luck, abortions and mental illnesses started to be blamed on the lack of care or the improper care of mating bites, said to either cause the body to perish in account of some malignant aspect of a specific plant or to have angered the gods in some manner.

The high mortality that could come with infected mating bites became more and more apparent the more society advanced, but they didn’t know it was because of the infection itself yet, so surviving these was not only a sign of strength or luck, but a sign of status, power, money and higher spirituality. Emperors, Empresses, feudal lords in the orient, etc. All took pride in having enough money to buy rare ingredients from merchants from far away lands as well as hundreds of slaves and servants to care for their gardens, plantations and animals which provided them with an immense diversity of always available plants, herbs and roots that gained favour in aiding with biting marks. To be the chosen mate of one of these people would grant one with a similar status and privileges, such as not dying and having better flavoured bread or something.

This also meant that they didn’t really want other people but them using these miracle medicines, because they thought that for the common people to use “divinely provided” forms of care would inevitably result in corruption of said methods and subsequently the fall of society. So now you had:

The rulers of nations and cities/nobles: Using and manufacturing refined powders from roots, grains and metals from far away nations in order to bind and cure mating bites. Rare Oils from plant eradicated anywhere but the palaces and gardens belonging to the highest circles, bandages made from the finest silks and sown and painted with all sorts of religious meanings. Concoctions that took hours, months or even years to be finished for a single claiming treatment, with recipes and processes kept secret and many times lost forever with trusted doctors/shamans that’d tend to royalty only.

Generals, Priestesses, Shamans, Politicians: Using plants and roots that were common, but difficult to come by, expensive, difficult to use or “required” a specific ritual that’d grant them some sort of untapped potential from these plants otherwise, providing them “enlightenment”, “strength”, “wisdom” and “spiritual clearance” in order to win all things from wars, to new knowledge and insight on the gods’ wants and needs to political feuds. Alcohol and other fermented blends such and wine and grape must with marsh mallow, made to clean and close wounds as well as soothing burns were prioritized here. The immediate pain was considered cleansing and efficiency. Mandrakes were rather popular as well, but for treating “deep spiritual diseases”, such as when ones mate falls ills some hours or a day after the bite is consummated, or to ensure healthy and strong offspring coming from the union since it was considered to aid on sexual prowess. However given its “immense” power and magical properties it was rarely ever given or prescribed to the masses without the supervision or blessing of a highly spiritual attuned authority.

Lords and wealthy merchants: Using, manufacturing and selling all sorts of blends, mostly creams and perfumes said to help with pain and itching. These would change depending on the city and the deities they worshiped and superstitions they carried as well as the plants naturally available in the lands (the ones that haven’t been eradicated or hogged by other classes of people). These were the ones usually gifted by acquaintances, and friends of the newly mated couple as offerings of good fortune, prosperity and fertility. These varied hugely in ingredients and price as well. Though there were other ingredients and recipes guarded with an amount of secrecy by these as well, gifted and used just by the family to other members of the same, these tended to be tended to and made with a higher degree of care, utilizing plants one would have at their disposal in their own home.

Common soldiers, artisans and lesser merchants, sailors and farmers: The people that didn’t really have much money, time or social status to dedicate to bite wounds would resort to simpler and cheaper methods of soothing their pains. Simply dousing the wounds with olive or fish oil was a common practice, as well as using salt water to wash the area. Clay of various kinds as well as coal and ground up seashells were popular on various cities as ingredients for lotions and creams and many times were offered to the gods as well as a form of prayer for good health and happy mateship. Lamb and goat fat was also very popular with the poor for its healing and relaxing properties, people would collect an array of herbs and flowers that’d fancy their partner or the both of them to incorporate into it, in order to symbolise their union as one as well as to mask the strong foul smell from the fat.

Slaves: Slaves were usually prohibited to mate by their masters, but the ones that happened to mate someone or being mated would be punished with not being able to treat their wounds. It was seen as a disgrace and distasteful to not treat ones bite wounds, and people thought only fitting that slaves who step out of line would have their favour taken from them entirely on the eyes of their gods or polite society. As a result slaves had to resort to only using water and cool mud, many succumbing to the infections and fevers that were attributed by most as a corruption of the spirit and not worthy of pity.

So as you can see, there was a divide in how they treated their wounds based on many things, and while some of these methods and rituals sometimes overlapped between classes the distinction was stark enough that you could clearly tell what type belonged to whom. It was around that time as well that the Eleusinian and Asterian dynamics started to get divided more and more as time passed. Omegas were treated as borderline property and in many places like Athens were not granted the right to mark their mate back, with exceptions occurring just in certain occasions (such as the soon departure to a losing war on the mate’s part, or to save the mate’s life though a spiritual treatment), Beta females and poor Omega females being forbidden to use certain plants and to take part in certain rituals by law claimed to be belonging solely to Omega females of higher social status, Omega males being prohibited of using any sort of soothing agents if not prohibited of being bitten altogether. Alphas having or not marks as a form of weakness or a show of strength varied ridiculously from city to city and from nation to nation (So much so that to this day there is not full agreement on that in society). And a whole lot of other rules and random crap just around mating bites alone.

With the invention of modern medicine, these things started to change obviously, people had a better grasp of what helped and what just made things worse, creams, pills, oils,,and ointments started being patented and people would gradually only look to more naturalistic methods of treating claim bites as an element of a different all-natural life style or a belief (misguided or not) that natural = better. With all that said one thing has remained true: Yes, caring for ones wounds is something that is and was believed to strengthen and solidify ones bond with their mate. People always tended to care a great deal for it, doing everything in their power to provide for their mates in the best way they knew how, if it were through giving them private care by more servants then they can count, with the best ingredients in the world at the moment, or simply by choosing smells and things that they’d like in order to show how much they care, they took and still take great pride in caring for that very fragile wound in their necks. As whether or not this is more an Alpha thing or a Omega thing, or if Alphas hate or take pride in causing pain to their partners, that varies in belief, culture and time period. I particularly think that overall it’d be a mixture of both. They don’t want to cause excessive pain to their partner but they also want their bonds to be solidified forever. The Eleusinian dynamics were always the ones more intimately connected with the production and rituals surrounding bite soothers so to me it makes sense they prioritize its quality more than Asterian dynamics, but that also is a highly individual thing.

Overall I hope this wasn’t a complete departure from what you asked >.> But I really wanted to explore this a bit more and your ask gave me the opportunity to. Remembering this is all just my interpretation and applies to my verse (PTPverse) which is completely open for creative use in fanfictions, RP sessions and others, so if you don’t agree with what I said here that’s 100% fine, to each their own, I just hope this somehow was able to help anyone ;) any lingering questions try checking out my other history posts such as the Ancient Greece Headcanons one or make another ask on my inbox for clarity. Peace.

¹ - Eleusinian dynamics: Referring to Omegas (of either gender) and Beta females.

² - Asterian dynamics: Referring to Alphas (of either gender) and Beta males.

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