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onyourhyuck · 10 months

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MRS NA? | NA JAEMIN. | PART FOUR.

— Prologue: “I’m not your servant, I’m your wife Jaemin.” + “Okay, I sense I may have said this wrongly to you.”

— Summary: Wherein Go Yeeun wakes up from a coma and meets Na Jaemin claiming to be her husband and have five children together.

— Genre: jaemin series. Romance. Found family. Mystery. Smut. Crack. Fluffiness.

— Notes: THIS IS A JAEMIN SERIES ON MY BLOG. reblog and follow me for more daily updates.

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Go Yeeun walks down the plains of the farm. The animals were groomed and dressed into newer coats. The different hairbrushes for the horses had to be used which took longer than doing a simple hairstyle for yourself. Taking care of a farm alone was no joke a very hard job and task. Many of the animals were very important and so Yeeun had no choice but to take care of them, because her lovely husband who works a 9 to 5 job couldn’t do that. Yeeun doesn’t remember anything to say to Jaemin. She doesn’t know if she actually agreed to these chores, to do them. But she took a wild leap and believes her so called husband.

Was he even a husband at this point? Yeeun has been stuck for two months trying to regain her memories of Jaemin and the five children. Nothing came to mind. Sometimes her dreams feels like a puzzle more than a dream with no meaning.

At this point the young woman feels so misplaced. Like a red wine bottle placed between two beer aisles. She feels like a stuck out sore thumb that you can point out in a second. Something about this place doesn’t feel like home. This place feels new and foreign to Yeeun.

And she cannot believe she chose a life like this? I mean a farm? Chores all day? Take care of children all the freaking time and when the kids go to sleep, Yeeun has to deal with an emotionally unavailable husband who barely makes an effort to understand her? This life sounds far from perfect. Far from normal. Far from what Yeeun believes she would have wanted in the past before her memories were erased from her mind.

Opening the backyard door, the young with the black long hair stuck in a messy bun wearing rain boots and overalls sweating from head to toe because she was doing everything to make the animals happy and all fed and cleaned, the overalls had stains of mud and reeking of cow’s straws from the hay. Not expecting anyone to be home. Yeeun’s round beautiful shaped eyes resembling a diamond nearly widen at the sight of the man with a slight tone and muscular build in the kitchen making himself a hot coffee. He wore a reddish and white flannel with crossed squares, a white tank top that make his muscular chest and pecs visible at times.

As much as Yeeun was shocked she was slightly confused too. Why was he back so early? He only left three hours ago.

The woman takes off the boots and then comes forward watching him sip the warm coffee. “What are you doing here back so early?” Yeeun questions with an eyebrow raise and he looks back seeing that Yeeun was already finished with her chores. He smirks raising his eyebrows at the question. “Oh hey bunny lips.” He smirks twirling around like a jelly bean with his body.

Jaemin leans against the counter as his eyes watch Yeeun’s figure. She looks slightly exhausted from doing chores all morning until afternoon. It makes him become smug as he saw Yeeun sit down with a groan as she looks at him.

He turns around when Yeeun was waiting for his answer clearly and he opens his mouth. “Ah. I’m just so good at my work that I finished early. Aren’t i a good husband my darling wife?” The tone he used was somehow mocking and a bit condescending.

Yeeun frowns but doesn’t say anything. She already feels slightly annoyed at him since the last time. They haven’t really spoke much. Not like they had much to talk about unless it’s about children. “Right…” Yeeun trails as she sighs. “Why don’t you help around the house then if you’re so good at your job?” She now blasts an invitation to Jaemin, that wasn’t so much of an invitation.

She is tired of doing chores all the freaking time. Jaemin should take some responsibilities around this household too.

His expression fell down. “But Yeeun that’s your job.” He expressed with an obvious hint that he won’t be doing that since it’s meant to be ‘hers’ to do and not Jaemin’s end of the deal.

The woman wasn’t pleased with the answer and any minute now Yeeun feels the boiling pent up rage inside her stomach aching and screaming to come out and tell her so called husband off right now. Yeeun would’ve divorced him by now, just saying she would’ve picked those papers up in a heartbeat. But Yeeun was thinking about the children and so she didn’t do that; the children matter the most. So Yeeun feels only more and more angry and frustrated at Jaemin’s lack of responsibility.

Yeeun slants upwards on the chair at the table as she takes off the boots now, with a stomp on the ground now. It’s clear that her body was showing anger but her voice was silent. He could imagine fire burning on her eyes whenever Yeeun looks at him.

It is also slightly misogynistic isn’t it? Yeeun is a woman so why is she doing the womanly house chores in the house? Surely Jaemin is a bit more modern than that considering his not so-fatherly acting decisions.

“Look are you here to just come and go? You’re meant to be here in this house too and as long as you’re living here you should do some chores around to help.”

There was a moment for their eyes to make contact. Jaemin stares at the woman telling him now this as she’s staring back at him unamused by how his blank eyes were slightly different than before. He looks like he didn’t want to help at all but when Yeeun phrased it like this he feels like he has no choice but to do it? He just never did a single chore in his life. Jaemin opens his mouth to say something but nothing came out so he closed it, and he raised his finger and puts it back down when his lips sealed. Yeeun’s voice comes off as a tired and annoyed sigh.

“I’ll be fair on you. You can wash the dishes on Saturdays and Sundays. And you can also do the laundry on those days too.”

Really? Jaemin couldn’t believe it you’re seriously giving him chores to do on his alone time! On his weekend where he doesn’t have to go to work. It’s the only time he can relax without the children wanting his attention too. And usually he would be at the bar or hanging out with his friends too.

He gave a slight frustrated fake smile at his wife. “Yeeun can you be slightly more lenient on me? I work. I want my alone time too.”

“Funny. I want my alone time too but I don’t get any at all.” Yeeun shot back and Jaemin felt his brain shutting instantly down. Fair enough, it looks like Yeeun has him cornered.

Hands running through his hair as he stares back at Yeeun and he gives her a slight nod as he sits down now in front of Yeeun as they’re at the table watching their faces. He was staring at her as he spoke now with a perusal sweet smile. “Alright how about just Saturday and i clean the dishes.” Jaemin now asked with both of his eyebrows turning up raised, as his voice was clearly trying to convince and change Yeeun’s decisions.

But she was too stubborn and Yeeun wasn’t the type of woman to fall for Jaemin’s tricks from getting away from doing his own chores. Yeeun was fair considering she does everything around here so it was fair. Jaemin was just avoiding her and her demands as his wife.

She leans forward and slams her hands in front of the table shaking it a bit which then flinched Jaemin as he wasn’t expecting Yeeun to really be this commanding and close to his face when shaking that table that held their elbows together on it. “I’m not your servant, I’m your wife Jaemin.”

Yeeun’s words echo in his ears. She feels more like a servant than a wife right now, and Jaemin’s eyes widen a little.

He groans a bit back at her words but he was now truly feeling like there’s no way he can get out of this now. Jaemin sighs.

“Okay, I sense I may have said this wrongly to you.” Jaemin replies to her as he looks at Yeeun again and he finally nods, without much choice, he doesn’t like this at all. “I’ll do the chores on Saturdays and Sundays.”

He then adds quickly causing Yeeun’s expression to falter downwards. “But on one condition.”

Yeeun has a bad feeling now that he’s saying one condition, and she can only think of bad things right now. “What condition will that be?” She sighs.

Yeeun’s expecting the worst.

He smirks leaning closer. “I take you on a date how about that?”

She furrows her eyebrows. “Why a date?” This was very sudden and somehow when Jaemin always suggests something there will always be some weirdly suspicious motive behind it all. Yeeun can’t help but shake this off.

He hums a bit. “Do I need a reason to take my wife on a date away from the kids?” He now stated and it makes Yeeun silent.

He had a point and she has no comeback to say to counter this so Yeeun trails quietly. “Have we went on a date before then?”

There was a little silence as Jaemin smirks and leans closer nodding. “Oh yeah. We did before once. You can tell how that went.” He states with a flirtatious laugh and smile as he’s now suggesting something completely different.

What did he mean? Yeeun thought.

“How did that date go?” She said confused and Jaemin found it surprisingly very innocent reaction of hers. He leans a bit closer and wraps one arm around Yeeun as he shifts her weight and chair to move even closer towards him where he sat in the chair. His playful eyes never leave Yeeun’s confused and curious eyes. It’s clear that she has no clue, and of course she has no clue.

She has no memories. No recollection. It just makes this more or so funny for Jaemin.

When their faces are even closer he whispers to Yeeun’s ears. “How do you think we made Yongsoo, bunny lips?”

The heart raced like crazy. The eyes widen like sweats coming down the Iris pupils. She grew redder on her complexion now and Yeeun snaps away from Jaemin as she scowls now. “Oh god do you have to say this to me?” Yeeun complained, it was unpleasant and it made her flustered. Embarrassed.

Jaemin on the other hand was loving her reactions. He just loves it when she rejects him so equivalently to how much she’s squeamish at the thought too.

It only takes more for Jaemin to throw in a baby-making joke there and there to have his wife Yeeun leaving him alone.

“You asked. Don’t be complaining to me.” Jaemin smirks as he looks back at Yeeun caressing some of the strands behind her ears.

He took a moment to admire her red cheeks. Somehow she has a feeling there’s a bigger motive behind his ‘date’ he’s asking her to go on right now. “So is that a yes then?” He now asked her again with a playful smile. “Don’t leave your husband hanging here, Yeeun.” He sweetly adds.

She groans mentally. Yeeun looks at him with a flat expression between her eyebrows and eyes. “Okay I guess we can go on a date.”

“Perfect. Thank you, Darling. Get ready because we are leaving at 6.” Jaemin remarks standing up and leaving the kitchen which makes Yeeun widen her eyes.

She wasn’t expecting it to be this quick? Now she’s left thinking what was his whole deal with this deal thing. They really haven’t been communicating much to be going on a date despite having children together. Yeeun sighs. This is going to be a long day.

The children were all rousing up at their father when they now were told they won’t be home with Yeeun or him. They were shocked at first. Haewon, the cute little girl with two braids holding her bunny plushie was the first one to speak out with a pout clearly not liking this. “Awh I want mommy. I don’t want uncle Jeno. He’s not fun at all. He thinks he’s funny like Kevin Hart.”

Oh wow how awkward Jaemin thought, he wonders what his best friend has told his children last time when telling a joke considering they all find him extremely unpleasant right now, or maybe they want their mother so bad they don’t want anyone else right now. Usually the boys like Jeno when they get babysat by his friend.

But now? Yeeun completely changed them. Jaemin was left there trying to make his children calm down and not be so disappointed. He didn’t expect the children to be so attached to Yeeun but hey, they are and they really look up to her so much.

“Dad can you take Jeno on the date instead? Mommy can stay with us.” Insu the one with the slight wispy lips on his words whenever he talks now said tugging on Jaemin’s wrist.

Jaemin laughs a little. “Come on what will me and Jeno do on a date if we go together? Anyways we won’t take too long.” He said now as he would huddle the kids as he kneels down. “Be good to Jeno, kids, and I mean it.” When he brought them in a circle to tell them the rules again. He was serious with them now and he spoke with intentions of not having them repeat what they did last time to Jeno…

He starts to list their mischievous pranks they always do and get in trouble for when they get babysat.

“No paper bombs.”

“No filling the water tub until it overflows.”

The boys whine when he said no more pranks with the bathtub. Hanuel was enjoying that one, especially when it was his idea. Despite being the eldest he was a genius at pranks.

Jaemin looks back at Insung, the twin with the wider cute ears sticking out. He flicks his son’s ears warning. “And that counts no playing with fire, Insung. I mean it.”

The boy nods slowly, he looks disappointed when his father said no to fire. Jaemin really doesn’t know how these kids came up with these ideas.

“Alright. Be good kids. Mommy and i will come back home soon.” Jaemin said now and the front door revealing their mother coming out wearing a new outfit that they never once saw on their mother before. She looks more dressed up and she even put on makeup?

Haewon gasps wowing first as behind Jaemin Yeeun was walking outside the house. “Whoa mommy you look so pretty.” Her daughter exclaims and she was literally eyeing her mother as if Yeeun was like a real life-doll.

The eldest boy Hanuel and the twins Insu and Insung were watching their mother with a jealous eye. Why did their mom go with their dad? She was meant to be with them watching their new episode of their cartoon show on tv!

Yongsoo was already crying. “Mommy nooooo nooo don’t goooo.”

The children didn’t want their mother to go and have fun with their dad because let’s be honest, they love Yeeun too much to let her go right now and their attachment issues? Are severally attached. They like Jeno but they can’t compare him to their amazing mother who does everything for them. She knows everything they like. Meanwhile Jeno doesn’t know anything except bad jokes and he ends up getting pranked by them.

The last time Jeno actually babysat them, he woke up ducktaped in the pig pens. He spent the next hour that day with the pigs, his entire body covered in the grey thick duck tape. And the kids were all making a mess at home too with the freedom they had back then.

Yeeun was surprised to see her children so unhappy and it somehow made her heart beat so much. She gives them a loving smile all and hugs them all in a crowding manner and a huddle. “Oh you guys, I’ll be back soon and I promise when I come back I’ll buy you your favourite ice lollies on the way yeah?” The children seem a little more obedient and happy with that deal.

The two men, Jeno and Jaemin now make eye contact as they try not to smile too much. Jaemin has to give it to Yeeun. She has found a bond with the children he couldn’t do at all. Yeeun was so good with them now.

And not to mention how beautiful Yeeun looks right now Jaemin found his eyes stuck on Yeeun. The short sleeve top with slight pale-ish green colour really goes well with that milky soft complexion. The little handbag strand on her arms and the long flared jeans with the boots? It was definitely an outfit that he likes. It shows off every curve and every beautiful detailing Yeeun so much.

Yeeun sighs and looks at Jaemin who she saw staring at her in a very obvious and different manner and direction.

“What?” Yeeun blurts out confused, she looks down at her outfit and then back at her husband. “Do I have something on my face?” She half panics and Jaemin shakes his head. “No, no,”

He clears his voice. “Nothing. I was zoning out.” He brushed away the own thoughts of Yeeun looking beautiful. “Get inside the car Yeeun, we gotta go.” The woman was brought to reality and she nods getting inside the passenger car.

The car clicks and she looks out the window waving at the five children. “You sure your friend can handle them?” Yeeun would ask looking at the driver seat where her husband was sitting now starting the engine with the key in the car hole and they soon drive off slowly leaving the farm and their house property. The drive in their town roads were slowly coming into view and Jaemin let’s out a soft laugh at Yeeun’s question. He trusts Jeno. They went through high school, through kindergarten. They were friends since they were very small at this point Jaemin would put his life on the line for Lee Jeno.

With one hand Jaemin would drive the steering wheel on the car turning round the corner while his left hand was now moving forward to hold Yeeun’s hand softly. He looks back at her for a second only because he needed all his attention on the road as he was driving. “Don’t worry about them being okay, yeah? Jeno is someone I trust with all my heart. He will take good care of them until we go home.”

The hand contact was something new it made Yeeun’s heart race as she saw their hands touching now a lot longer than a second too. She sighs. Jaemin was right this was a date and not a worrying therapy session about her children. “You’re right. So where are you taking me then? Some fancy restaurant?” Yeeun smirks guessing.

She hopes it’s a fancy restaurant where she can have steak or something like that. It would be a perfect date in her book. If Yeeun had to pick. The steak and wine combination for a date at a fancy eloquent restaurant would be an amazing date to go with Jaemin at.

The mention of a fancy restaurant makes Jaemin laugh and shake his head, he was amused to say the least that his wife has high expectations. Well. He’s about to lower them and say goodbye to a fancy restaurant idea. “Oh no no darling. No fancy restaurant.” He smirks.

“I’ll be taking you somewhere more fun and traditional bunny lips.” He smirks wiggling his eyebrows forward which makes Yeeun already think something so bad.

She shouldn’t be having negative thoughts but the way Jaemin was lowering her expectations of what their date was gonna be like. Well. Yeeun was seated in the far tightly as she lets her husband drive them to the secret location.

The drive to the place Jaemin was taking Yeeun to was a bit far from their home but not that far if you don’t walk. By far it was a decent drive. He would come out of the car and Yeeun opens her car door by herself. She wasn’t even sure why she expected Jaemin to open the car door for her, he was walking ahead and when he saw behind that the woman was not following he yells in front motioning a waving hand at her to follow him. “Come on, we can’t miss this tickets!” He yells.

‘Ugh he can’t even open the door and wait for me?…’ Yeeun sighs in her head thoughts.

The area they lived in was always the countryside and almost kinda poor-like with working class. So when she starts to walk following Jaemin behind who bought their fair tickets. It was like an open fair that opened up today. He took her to a local fair with many running games available to do. They walk side by side and Yeeun’s eyes widen at how many rides there was too.

It wasn’t something Yeeun expected, that’s for sure.

He saw her expression searching everything she’s seeing as if getting information where she was at. Jaemin smirks and grabs her hand now. “Come on, don’t get lost. Take my hand.” The man lead her and Yeeun let’s him taking her hand as they held hands while walking amongst other people.

Somehow the warmth in her heart grew when Jaemin was holding her hand so tight leading her to a certain stand where it caught her attention. They were selling all sorts of prizes if you manage to shoot the running duck toys on the wall with the shotgun that has pebbles in it.

Yeeun raised an eye at one of the prizes. It was a a bracelet made up of string but it had a little gemstone in the middle, it was something the young woman noticed first.

Her husband looks at Yeeun and stands behind her to see what she was watching so intensely. “Ah you want the arm bracelet, Yeeun?” Jaemin smirks and he thinks it’s an easy one way job to get for her right now.

He didn’t waste a second but motions to the stand owner. “One shot gun. I want that bracelet up there as the prize. How much do I need to shoot?” The stand owner looks back at the prize and then looks back at Jaemin. “Five ducks.”

‘Five… there’s no way he can manage to shoot five ducks right?’ Yeeun wasn’t sure actually. She can’t remember if he was good at shooting or if he knew how to work it out.

When staring at the man grabbing the shotgun and getting it ready with a proper aim at the running ducks on the walls. It’s like goose hunting. He was chasing the ducks with the aim trying to get one. He was silent and focused when Yeeun was watching him and it feels almost intense right now. Even the owner of the stand was now watching Jaemin with not much expectations.

But even if no one was believing in him. Jaemin shown no fear and no mistakes. The shotgun runs up and he ends up getting the first duck. It struck so quickly that when Jaemin reloads the shotgun it makes Yeeun’s eyes widen trying to make sense of how quick the pebbles were shot at the duck.

He got one, and that one duck turned into four other ducks as he manages to shoot all five remaining ducks to win the bracelet prize.

Jaemin smirks as he takes the bracelet and puts the shotgun back. He then whistles approaching Yeeun on the side. “What’s with the surprised look?” He laughs a bit seeing Yeeun pale as she wasn’t expecting her husband to be so good at aiming with a shotgun.

“I didn’t know you knew how to shoot?” Yeeun said back with a laugh. Jaemin’s smirk never leaves his face as his big round eyes and his long fluttering eyelashes poke at Yeeun’s expression when taking a step forward holding out her arm. The softness of his touch makes her heart race so much more prominently; and his breath was deep as Jaemin’s soft still eyes looking down at her wrist as he tied the bracelet on her wrist finally. “There is a lot of things you don’t remember about me, bunny lips.” Jaemin’s deep and low voice spoke with a smirk as Yeeun looks up at him taking back her wrist when he was done putting on the bracelet.

There was silence between them but Yeeun and Jaemin were brought back to reality when the smell of food passing the fair streets makes her stomach tingle. The growling sound makes Yeeun feel slightly exposed.

She completely forgot to eat earlier today. Jaemin looks at Yeeun with a soft laugh when seeing her become slightly shocked to hear her stomach make such a loud sound. “Hmm, hungry Yeeun?” He grins and she looks at Jaemin with an eye roll. “No, I’m starving.” She emphasised.

There was Yeeun again, with her little eye rolls thrown at his words as he asks the most obvious questions. They begin to walk somewhere more quiet. The fair was getting quite busy the later it gets and so on. Jaemin didn’t really want to eat dinner filled with crowds. And he most certainly prefers some alone time too with Yeeun. It’s a luxury to be alone like this after all. They might as well make most of it.

There was the coastal sea and the brick walls that you can watch the sea crashing against. Yeeun puts her handbag down on the brick wall as she leans with her elbows forward watching the ocean waves crashing down, back and forward, upwards. It sounded so magical to be close to the sea like this and Yeeun closed her eyes inhaling the air.

It feels so cold and refreshing. It makes Yeeun’s body feel so much better. Currently she was alone waiting for someone to come back. Jaemin told her he’s getting food so he told her to wait here for him until then.

When Yeeun was wondering where the man could’ve gotten lost Jaemin appears behind her and leans on the brick wall. He takes out a foiled food. Yeeun was expecting something cleaner, less greasy. The sight of the filled up sandwich with chopped up meat and melted cheese makes Yeeun salivate but also, she wasn’t expecting to be eating greased up meat and cheese.

Jaemin hums taking a bite of the sandwich too. “Here you take a bite you’re hungry aren’t you?” She scowls and shakes her head. “I’m good, you eat up. I’ll eat at home.”

The words she said makes Jaemin smirk as he took another bite and puts the sandwich under Yeeun’s nose which makes her smell how good it actually was. She was just stubborn to want to take a bite out of something that’s greasy and more un-healthy in her eyes.

“Come on, Bunny lips. Don’t be stubborn. One bite?” Jaemin urgently said as he watches her fighting her inner urges and conflict.

Yeeun murmurs. “No I’m fine, not hungry anymore. Looks unpleasant.”

But the moment her eyes were watching the sandwich Jaemin takes a bite out again she couldn’t help but gulp. Her hungry stomach was growing more hungry watching Jaemin eat and she slowly comes closer.

“Fine. Give me one bite…” Yeeun trails as Jaemin smirks giving her the sandwich in the foil paper. When he saw the girl take a bite out of the sandwich it fills his loving eyes on her. He loves seeing Yeeun try the food he eats only.

It’s something he’s used to. Yeeun wasn’t so used to this kind of food, but when he saw her obvious reaction it was clear that she loved it. The moment the bite she took from the sandwich Yeeun let’s out a soft moan and nods as she ate. “Mhmm…” It was clear that his wife loved it, and she was wrong about this food. Jaemin smirks. “Is it good?”

She gulps down chewing the sandwich, she takes another bite going back for seconds, it makes Jaemin almost proud he introduced Yeeun to some good culture over here. “Oh god how come i didn’t find this earlier?”

Yeeun exclaims.

He chuckles and he motions his hands to the sandwich. “Let me take a bite too—“ Yeeun moves her hands away and she shakes her head. Jaemin laughs as she moved away. “Okay okay you eat up, it’s good you’re eating.” He states giving up. It’s obvious she won’t be sharing as it’s too good to her right now. Like a new addiction probably.

Yeeun and Jaemin turn to the ocean view as it was nighttime with a cold breeze running against them and their clothes. She finished eating the sandwich now but Jaemin and Yeeun continue to watch the waves crashing.

“Hmm did you ever travel, Jaemin?” Yeeun asked the man and he softly smiles. “No, but I wish I did.” He sighs.

“Many people born in these deprived areas don’t have the money to travel.” Jaemin started to state the facts. The poor people stay poor.

Yeeun looks at Jaemin softly and she gives him a gentle smile as her hands brush over his hand intertwining their fingers together. Somehow holding hands became natural today. They never held hands before until today.

“Someday we can travel. I’ll make it a promise.” Yeeun softly said to him. She spoke in a soft spoken tone that Jaemin couldn’t even imagine to hear from her ever.

It was different. They’re now speaking openly with softness. It wasn’t like before at all.

Jaemin’s eyes watch Yeeun’s as she said that she would make this come true for him and it made his lips seal together in a thin line.

Sometimes he can feel this invisible thread pulling him towards her heart even more.

The pull, the rough drag, the urge to kiss Yeeun too. Deep inside beneath his harden skin and his high iron walls Jaemin keeps up, there was this heavy heavy gravity of Yeeun’s words resting at the end pit.

And it’s changing him very slowly, breaking at the iron walls he keeps on.

Their bodies were still but Jaemin’s head tilts on the side and softly moves closer letting their lips touch softly. The kiss feels like standing on top of the finest silk or on top of a cloud. Yeeun’s eyes closed and Jaemin’s hands brushed up on her face caressing his thumbs down her cheeks, deepening their soft kiss, she feels the hitching breath stop and her cheeks growing warmer.

The sound of their lips leaving, it was like a wet soft small sound between them that their kiss made when it came off. Jaemin looks down at Yeeun and he slowly brings his hands down her face, admiring how beautiful Yeeun looks tonight.

“I want to apologise for you know…not helping around the house and for not being there for the kids.” Jaemin trails awkwardly. He wasn’t the best at making apologies but it was his goal to give one to Yeeun.

Yeeun was the most shocked though. An apology from Jaemin?

Perhaps Jaemin was changing, Yeeun thought. “Thank you, Jaemin…”

Meanwhile back at home the children were having the time of their lives with their uncle Jeno. But it must be the opposite for their uncle right now, because this feels like utter hell on earth.

Jeno was tied against the stairway railings now with his hands handcuffed by dog leads. One of the children, he can’t remember who, managed to tie his hands with dog leashes!

“Whoever tied me come untie me! Your parents will be hearing about this.” Jeno warns as he sighs, he wishes judgement day came and took him now because he can’t deal with babysitting five rotten devils.

Hanuel the eldest was watching tv with a tub of ice cream and a large spoon. “Uncle Jeno you should really stop shouting, it’s pointless.” Hanuel smartly suggests.

“Be glad you’re not stuck with the pigs like last time.” The older boy said again with a smirk as Hanuel went back to eating the ice cream.

Jeno wants to roll his eyes at the boy’s smart-ass attitude. This kid is meant to be the oldest but why was he the meanest?

Then the twins, those twins were making a mess in the kitchen playing with pots and pans. They rattle and rattle everywhere. Meanwhile their older sister Haewon was trying to bake a cake right now. She’s making the cake batter.

‘Oh how brilliant,’ Jeno thought. Jaemin and Yeeun are having the time of their lives but back home it was chaos running wild like a spreading fire.

Then Jeno’s thoughts stop when Yongsoo was by the top of the stairs with a skateboard. The youngest boy was there ready to roll over with a skateboard down thinking it’s going to be a smooth ride, but Jeno was there in the way and he will be crashed into.

“Oh… Yongsoo! No! Don’t slide down.” Jeno shouts but he came too late to warn the boy as he rolls down with a skateboard and crashed into Jeno’s back knocking Jeno out cold while Yongsoo was sliding down with a little ‘Weeeeeeeee’ happy sound coming out of the boy’s lips.

Jeno will never be babysitting here again, even if Jaemin paid him like this time! He won’t do it again!

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Sorry this took so long, chapter 5 is coming out this week too!! I decided to release 2 parts this week because I was very far behind this series </33

@onyourhyuck please refer from translating copyrighting and plagiarising my work thank youu! Reblog this fic and follow me for more updates on my blog this is a series!

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minimallyminnie · 4 months

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Moonlight Sunrise

Summary: Vincent tells you how much he loves you and how he wants to stay with you.

Tags: Vincent/Gn Reader, mentions of others, hurt/comfort, mentions of bad parenting (Vincent), proposal, fluff, gender neutral reader!, spoilers for Vincent’s route, you traveled back with Vincent back to the mansion after that incident bc I can’t cope with Vin leaving Theo and William sniff sniff…., based off of Twice’s Moonlight Sunrise!!!

Just in case you’d wanna read it @azulashengrottospiano! Thank you for introducing the most greenest and sweetest person I’ve seen in romance games to me. I love my sunflower to bits <3

“I don’t quite understand this feeling yet.”

Vincent doesn’t know why this emotion makes his heart feel warm.

It doesn’t feel like it’s choking him but it’s similar to a warm embrace from his brother.

You gave him this feeling…But yet just like always when he’s with you

Everything he knows just disappears from his head.

“It’s overwhelming but yet if I let go of them, I feel cold. Empty again.”

He let go of you once. Pushed you into your own world.

And to that, Vincent brought you into his arms instead. Close and tight.

This emotion, his raw and unbridled love for you is so powerful and strange to him, but he would rather take it all in pride rather than let you go for a single moment.

Gods. How long has it been since he’s felt this much love from someone besides Theo?

“Their smile, their eyes, their lips, their hands, everything about them feels so…wonderful.”

Ever so gentle, he loves kissing you. It’s addictive and sweet.

With gentle strokes of his brush, he paints your eyes. The most delicate of touches as he tries and fails to portray how dazzling and comforting your eyes are to him. It could never match the real thing.

He loves it when your warm hands cup his face or when they’re intertwined with his. Stroking tears away, just pressing kisses on his face or just watching as his cheeks turn a pretty pink from you just touching him. Vincent loves it.

And lastly, your smile. Oh he could ramble for days and days on end about why he just adores it. Vincent had the honor to see your first genuine smile when you first came to the mansion. And ever since then, he relished in every sweet and warm honey like smile you have given him.

“They’ve given me everything. No matter what. Even…even their blood.”

The first time you bled, Vincent regretted it so so much of how he just…took from you. Drank from your thumb without your consent. Even if you said it was okay later on, he hated himself.

The second time though, he bit his lip and tried to simply bandage your wrist but then you raised it close to his lips. You told him to take and he was shocked but listened. He was so gentle with you.

Even when you had no injury, you offered him your blood any time he was hungry and he was elated to find out that you didn’t mind. You wanted him. You meant the world.

So anytime he’s hungry, instead of suppressing it using blanc, he goes to his amazing lover to be fed. At the end of his feeding, he licks your wound and just smiles dopily at you.

“Despite everything that I am, despite who I am, they love me to the moon and back.”

He gets his bad days sometimes. Where he feels trapped and stuck inside his head. Where he hears the striking sound of a sharp gunshot over and over again.

Days where he won’t come out of his room at all. Not even eating when Sebastian brings him food. Not even when Theo, Arthur, or even when William or Comte come with concern.

You know this. He’s still a living being with emotions. So you bring both of your plates up and just eat inside his room. No words are needed. Just your presence.

If he feels okay enough, he’ll sneak his head out from underneath his blanket and simply lay his head on your lap.

“Because despite everything,”

A certain memory strikes in his head as he remembers having a mental breakdown from being reminded of what his parents told him.

“They choose to look at me with stars and colors swirling in their beautiful eyes.”

You were next to him in seconds. Holding him as you guided him to an alleyway to kiss his tears away and be besides him even after he calmed down. He sniffled in your arms and was about to give an apology before you kissed him and assured him that you’d stay by his side.

“I am forever grateful and honored to have such an amazing significant other like them. I want to stay by their side, to be the one to comfort them as they do me.”

Vincent watched one day as you just bit down on your sobs as he was painting one day. He dropped his paintbrush and immediately kissed your head with ever so gentleness. He’ll listen to you if , or just wait in silence if you don’t want to talk about it in the moment. The blond wiped away your tears as they flowed down, let you laid on his chest as you bursted out in tears.

“Because I love them. I love them. I love them.”

You smile at him as you watched the starry night shine down on his beautiful features and warm ocean eyes. Leaning again the flowered gazebo.

For an entire day, he spent time with you, and you just adored that.

But why was he suddenly saying all of this? You didn’t not like it but what was all of this coming from?

“I want to make a wish. A wish to stay by their side forever until…not until our last breath, I want to stay by their side for eternity. For however long they want me by their side. I don’t even know if they’ll accept but…”

….Wait.

Hang on.

It can’t be.

Could it?

A sudden gust of wind went through the gazebo, blowing petals off their flowers inside. The moonlight shining individually on each velvety piece.

But all you saw was Vincent on his knee holding your hand.

“V-Vincent?”

“I’d like to ask them. To ask you my starlight, to marry me. To please stay by my side through all our hardships. Through everything no matter how light or heavy it is. Regardless of what you answer, I love you.”

Again, you took his breath away and his head over heels as you tackled him with a hug and teary eyes.

He fell for you all over again.

#ミミ☆#Vincent Van Gogh x reader #Van gogh x reader #vincent x reader #ikevamp #cybird ikemen #ikemen vampire #Ikémen vampire #ikevamp vincent #Ikémen vampire x reader #ikemen vampire x reader #ikevamp x reader #ikevamp vincent x reader #x female reader #x male reader #x gn reader #x reader #ikemen series

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theraggedygirl11 · 2 months

Text

Sospeso tra finzione e realtà

SUMMARY: Bojan was turned into a vampire some years before. The band met the famous photographer Damon Baker while in London and now it's time for Bojan's photoshoot, but something unpleasant happens.

PAIRING: Bojan Cvjetićanin/Kris Guštin/Damon Baker (+kind of implied poly!jo)

WARNINGS: anxiety/panic attack, blood, sex (not too explicit), angst and more angst, hurt/comfort, death/homicide mentioned, slight torture

WORDS COUNT: 4.891

LINK: AO3

NOTES: This comes from a collective work that's going on since last July or August, I don't remember. The AUs spawned on their own, we have too many and you'll find everything under the tag #vampire!bojan and #vampire!bojan storyline. So, I'd like to thank @signoraviolettavalery who supported my nocturnal brainrot in this post here, and also @touchyourblood and @nyx-aira who added a general background in this other post.

The title comes from this Italian song, feel free to go and listen to it. Here you can read the translation into English.

This is not beta-read, we die like men here! I just took what @signoraviolettavalery and I wrote, put it together and wrote something more around it

I just hope I added every tw in the tags, if something's missing, feel free to tell me and I'll add them!

* * *

“Bojan, are you sure you want to do this?” Kris asks while looking at the vampire. “You know you’ll be all alone with Damon, right? And that you’ll end up showing your vulnerable side?”

“Yes, Krisko. I’m fine, and I’ll be fine,” he reassures him before pecking his lips. “I fed on Jure this morning, I’m relaxed, I feel good, London is showing its sunny side and I’m ready to conquer the world!” He even giggles. He’s truly in a good mood and full of energy.

“Call any of us if anything happens, ok?” Kris looks at him, still worried.

“Yeah, sure, don’t worry,” Bojan winks at him, then quickly kisses the others before leaving their apartment to go and meet Damon at his house.

Damon and he already discussed about his photoshoot, so Bojan knows what he’s about to face. He’s truly relaxed, he didn’t lie to Kris. That part of his life is over, behind his back forever.

As soon as he arrives at Damon’s, he changes his clothes to the ones they chose for his photoshoot: tight leather trousers, a leather belt with a broken heart on it, an oversized shirt and an untied bowtie around his neck. Oh, he loves this outfit, it’s sexy and makes him look so much masculine, but at the same time he starts feeling uncomfortable, uneasiness crawling up his spine. The Bojan he sees in the mirror isn’t the Bojan he wants to show to the world. He notices a shade of red in his eyes and immediately changes them back to brown.

“Are you ready, honey?” Damon asks while getting closer to Bojan. “Oh, you look amazing, sweety. I could ride this cowboy any time! Or you could ride me,” he winks.

Bojan giggles. He’s now used to Damon flirting with him. He likes it. “We can go, I’m ready.”

The photoshoot starts. The poses that Bojan decides to do exhale aggressiveness and masculinity, and the more the photoshoot goes on, the more aggressive they become. He doesn’t want to, but his instincts tell him to do so, to assert his dominance over the person who’s taking pictures and the ones that will see them. He’s unconsciously showing the predator inside him that is violently ramping against the weak human surface, it wants to come out because it feels in danger. And what does an animal in a dangerous situation? It shows aggressiveness and attacks.

The moment Damon gets closer with his camera, something snaps inside Bojan. His entire body is petrified. His mind shows him a memory he thought he had locked up in the deepest corner of his mind. He’s again in front of her, she’s taking pictures of him right after she fed on him. He’s covered in blood, he’s crying and begging her because he’s feeling dizzy, he just wants her to lick the bitemarks to close them or he will bleed off.

But she keeps taking those pictures, she grins showing her fangs and her lips still stained with blood of the most vibrant shade of red. She’s in full control and the only thing he can do is stay there and hoping she will make him stop bleeding. Tears run down his face. He’s so scared, so powerless and hopeless. He wants that all that ends as soon as possible.

In the present Bojan’s eyes got red. He didn’t even notice, at least until Damon brings him back from the spiral he was falling into.

“W-What are-”

He can’t even finish the sentence. Bojan snaps back into reality and in a blink of an eye he attacks the photographer in front of him, pinning him down on the ground. The camera slides on the floor while he grabs the human’s wrists with his hands and blocks them above his head. He growls, showing his fangs in an intimidating way. Bojan’s on top of the photographer, his instincts full in control of his actions, he can’t even recognize Damon.

“B-Bojan...?” Damon whimpers, terrified.

The fog that invaded Bojan's mind and finally fades away and he can restraint his vampiric instincts. He stands up faster than a normal human would. He’s afraid of what he just did, he feels so ashamed for having lost his control.

“I-I’m sorry. I-I didn’t mean to-”

He just runs away, out of the window. He doesn’t care if someone sees him, he just needs to go away, far, far away from Damon. He looks like a scared prey chased by an unknown predator. While he tries to remember where to go to reunite with his bandmates, he looks around, overwhelmed by sounds and smells and colours and lights.

He’s panting, he’s panicking, his mind is barely functioning at this point, he’s letting his impulses rule over his actions. He doesn’t even know how, but he manages to go back to the apartment, jumping from one roof to the other.

Bojan enters the room where Nace and Kris sleep through the window. He immediately searches for Kris’s colourful sweater in his suitcase. He needs some familiar scent around him to calm himself down. His heart is beating fast in his chest, his eyes are still red. He’s still wearing the clothes he was using in the photoshoot.

When he finds the sweater, he puts it immediately on and lets Kris’s smell surround him. He takes deep breaths and closes his eyes. He tries to block everything else out. He sits on the ground, right next to the bed. His knees are against his chest and his arms embrace them. He’s trying so hard to look smaller.

You are safe, Bojan. You are safe. Damon is alive, you didn’t kill him. You are safe. He keeps repeating these sentences in his mind, trying to regain control over his body, now dominated by fear and panic. He is shaking too.

After some minutes someone enters. He’s too focused on Kris’s scent to identify who that person is.

“Bojan?” This voice is worried.

Soon after a hand is laying on his shoulder. Bojan winces and raises his head suddenly. It’s Nace.

“What happened?”

Bojan doesn’t answer, he just hugs Nace and hides his face against his chest.

“I-I couldn’t do it. I-I showed myself. He knows-”

“Hush, hush,” Nace gently caresses his hair after hugging him back. “It’s ok,” he whispers. “Breathe. You are safe here, no one’s going to hurt you here.”

It takes Bojan at least fifteen minutes to calm down. He slipped, he thought he could be strong enough to face that photoshoot, but something clearly snapped in him and made him reveal himself. And he’s so ashamed of it.

“Let’s go to the others,” Nace suggests when he sees that Bojan is a little bit more relaxed. His eyes are now brown and he stopped shaking.

They go down the stairs together, holding hands. He can hear the others talking in that small living room, but their voices stop when they see Nace with Bojan, with Kris’s sweater and not his own clothes on. They know that something’s wrong. And Bojan confirms their suspects.

“He knows.”

Two simple words, but they all understand.

“Oh, Bojč,” Kris sighs, then stands up and hugs the vampire.

“I-I thought I was over her, b-but-”

“It doesn’t matter,” Kris replies, interrupting him. “We’ll talk to Damon and we’ll find a solution. But now you are more important. Come here and sit with us.”

That evening the band take care of Bojan. They cuddle with him, they prepare his favourite human food, they make him feel comfortable, safe and loved. And in the end he falls asleep on Jure’s shoulder, exhausted by the intense emotions he felt that day.

Nace takes him in his and Kris’s room so they can sleep with him in the middle. It is a “standard procedure” when Bojan happens to have a bad day. Having familiar scents around him helps him to relax and feel safe.

The next day Kris wakes up before anyone else because he needs to drink some water. He goes downstairs, but his attention is caught by his phone buzzing. He takes it. It’s a message from Damon.

Damon: Hey Kris. Yesterday happened something uncomfortable during Bojan’s photoshoot. I’m really sorry.

Damon is still online and is trying to write something else, but he keeps stopping. Kris decides to reply.

Kris: We know he’s a vampire. He told us what happened yesterday.

Damon: I guessed you should know, you are so intimate with one another

Damon: Is he ok?

Kris: More or less, he managed to sleep at least

Damon: Do you think Bojan would like to meet me again?

Damon: I just want to talk with him

A couple of days later, a bit reluctantly, Bojan is again at Damon’s house. He drank blood before going, just to be able to control himself better. In a bag he has the clothes he wore the other day.

Damon lets him in and welcomes him with a smile.

Bojan knows Damon is afraid of him, he can smell his fear in the air and feel it in his heart beating faster than the usual. He harnesses his predator’s instincts with all the strength he has. He doesn’t want to be intimidating.

They sit, Damon on an armchair, Bojan on the couch. They are far from each other. There’s silence between them, both are nervous. But Damon talks first.

"Look, I'm still a little scared. I mean, who wouldn't be? It's human instinct, right? You'd think there was something wrong if I wasn't scared." And Bojan, who remembers what it feels like to be preyed on, nods.

"But I've also gotten to know you. I've gotten to see you. I think you're a good person. And I think you're just as scared of what you are. Maybe even more."

Bojan nods again. "This thing...it's like this monster inside me that I have to control. A demon."

"I know a little something about having a demon inside me," Damon says and Bojan's eyes widen. Oh. "But you find ways to control it, right? To cope. A support network, friends who keep you from falling."

Bojan nods again. "Kad neman tebe, sa mnom su moji demoni," he says. "It's from our song. 'when you're not with me, my demons are with me.' My friends are there for me, and they keep the demons away."

Silence falls again between them. Well, at least for Damon. Bojan’s ears are dominated by the constant beating of Damon’s heart, the blood pumping in his vessels that sings to him, calls him.

Damon breaks again the silence and asks one basic question. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Bojan sits straight, his body stiffens. Damon is curious, but his vampire instincts allow him to recognize the stance of a prey that's trying to not look nervous or scared.

Should he talk? Should he tell him how he got turned? Should he explain to Damon why he snapped during the photoshoot? Should he really allow himself to be this vulnerable with a guy he barely knows?

But Damon, poor little scared human Damon, seeing that Bojan doesn't talk, asks him another question, trying a new way to communicate with him.

"How should I approach you? Like, are there movements or stuff I should avoid doing to make you feel more comfortable? Or words, I don't know. I don’t want to trigger any negative reaction in you."

Bojan then starts talking, even if he's hesitant. He explains that his senses are much sharper than a human’s, so he's bothered by strong noises, intense lights, very rich smells, but for a brief period of time he can resist.

"How do I smell like?"

"I beg your pardon?" Bojan is really confused. Why that question?

"How do I smell like? How's my scent?"

Bojan closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, focusing on Damon. The scent of fear is slowly disappearing. "It's sweet. Comfortable. It makes me feel safe, in some way," and it’s tempting, but he keeps these words for himself.

And there Damon smiles widely. "That's perfect, because I have something for you to wear, honey." He gets up and takes this stripped and fluffy black and white piece of clothing from a bag next to the armchair. "This is my favourite sweater. It makes me feel safe and I'd like you to wear it," and stands up, gets closer and hands him the sweater, which of course is soaked in Damon's scent.

Bojan's brain stops working because, well, he didn't expect this reaction. Damon, still afraid of him, is asking him to wear a piece of clothing that makes him feel safe. Some sort of peace offering.

I want you to feel safe with me, even though I’m still scared. This is how Bojan reads this gesture. His hearts almost melts.

He grabs the sweater and smells it, inhaling his scent and shivering. He quickly takes off his jacket and shirt, then wears the sweater. It’s warm and fluffly and soft. He’s immediately enwrapped by Damon’s scent.

“It suits you,” Damon says, giggling.

“It’s a nice sweater,” Bojan replies, nodding and hinting a shy smile.

The vampire is really feeling safe with it on. He wasn’t afraid of Damon per se, he’s not dangerous, it was the photoshoot that made him feel too vulnerable and made resurface bad memories.

Damon, seeing that Bojan is lulled by the comfort of his sweater, tentatively suggests "if you're comfortable with it...I'd like to photograph that side of you, too. Not for the public, of course. Just...for us. Photography is how I get to know someone, and that's a part of you too."

"I don't want to scare you," Bojan admits.

"I'm already scared. But that doesn't matter. I want to know you, all of you."

Their eyes meet, prey and predator, human and vampire, two creatures completely different but similar at the same time. And Bojan feels some kind of connection with Damon, something he haven’t felt since the first time he saw his bandmates after the transformation.

In the end Bojan agrees to this, tentatively. But he wants Kris to be there with him, just in case. Kris knows exactly how to calm him down. He will know what to do or say if he loses control.

“You won’t need me, you're not going to lose control," Kris says while looking at the vampire. "Even if he does smell extra tasty."

"How do you know that?" Bojan asks.

"I know you," Kris replies. "I know that when you inhale his scent, you want."

Bojan diverts his look and starts fidgeting with the hem of his sweater. Well, with Jan’s sweater. Having his bandmates clothes on helps him relax and push back his anxiety, so it’s easy seeing him with clothes owned by the others.

A couple of days later Bojan it’s time for him to show that side of himself to Damon. Kris is with them, just to reassure both human and vampire.

Damon's obviously still scared, Bojan can smell it. But he doesn't run away when Bojan changes his appearance in front of him, sharp claws and fangs, eyes of the purest and the most intense red ever seen.

Damon admires this version of Bojan, stunned by his beauty. He looks Bojan in the eyes, and gets close, and takes those photos. Beautiful photos that capture not just the 'monster' inside him, but also the fear, the uncertainty, the angst Bojan is consumed by. How he doesn't want to be the monster. His red eyes on display and a look of sheer terror on his face...which is quite a photo, because predators don't usually look terrified. That's reserved for preys.

Kris observes silently and not so far away from them. He’s worried more for Bojan than for Damon. He knows how much this photoshoot is testing Bojan’s self-control on his vampiric side and memories.

And that’s why after the shooting Bojan needs time to decompress, to relax and make his human side come back to the surface. Kris, who was there the whole time, helps him, with tender words whispered to reassure him, caresses and kisses.

Damon observes them, silently. Bojan is a predator, he could kill both of them and they could do nothing about it because he's faster, stronger, he’s built to hunt and murder his preys, to feed on them, just like a lion or a tiger. Now he’s so vulnerable, so human.

But that scene is so intimate, so caring, Damon almost feels he's third wheeling. Kris trusts Bojan with his life because he’s keeping the vampire’s mouth so close to his neck, he’s letting him inhale his familiar scent while running a hand though his soft hair.

Damon decides to ask another question, because in the end he's curious to know about Bojan and his kind. He saw vampires portrayed on the screen, many variants, but he's different. He's a real vampire.

"May I ask one thing? You don't need to answer, if you don't want to."

Bojan looks at him, fangs no more visible but eyes still a little bit red-ish.

"Yeah, sure."

"What's the most intimate act your kind can perform with a human? Like, how can a human show to a vampire that they fully trust them?"

"Feeding," Bojan answers after a short silence. "Feeding directly from the neck or the wrist or any other body part. Giving freely the permission to take something as vital and as important as your blood."

"So do you...feed on your friends?"

Damon's starting to put two and two together. The way Jan had wanted a turtleneck on during his photoshoot. The way Jure had put his photoshoot off for days claiming to be "sick." Were they covering for the bite marks, then?

Bojan gets a slightly panicked look on his face, and it's Kris who answers.

"Yes. With our consent," he reaches for Bojan's hand, squeezes it. "We trust him, and we know he'd never hurt us."

Bojan gives him a shy smile, thanking him for baking him up.

And Damon thinks about that. How intimate they all are with each other. How clearly trusting the other boys are around him. He's been around them all, seen how they cuddle, how close they get to him, how none of them is scared. Remembers Bojan resting his head on their shoulders, or face-planting into their chest, realizing he must have been smelling them, hearing the blood pulse beneath their skin. And they hadn't skipped a beat, hadn't been scared for a single second. He's never seen them too-pale, ashen-faced, too drained of blood and energy to function. Clearly Bojan is careful, never takes too much, and they trust him.

And he realizes he trusts him too.

"Would you like to feed on me?" He asks.

Bojan is obviously hesitant, his entire body stiffened, but Damon immediately adds "it's how a human shows trust, right? Letting you feed. I'd like to do that."

"I - " Bojan is hesitant because he wants. He wants so much. He hadn't been lying, Damon smells so good. He's so drawn to him. He's thought more than once about that beautiful pale neck, about sinking his teeth into it. He’s salivating, savouring Damon’s taste just by smelling him from afar.

"Kris should be there," he says finally. "Just in case. He knows what to do if I - if I lose control."

"Are you likely to lose control?" Damon asks.

"No," Kris says before Bojan can even open his mouth. "He's never lost control, not since I've known him."

He can hear Damon's heart beating, so, so fast. He's nervous. But that heartbeat also calls to him, all that blood beneath the pale skin. He wants. He wants so much. He craves it.

Bojan can feel his eyes changing colour and his fangs becoming sharper. He's struggling to control himself, but he manages to not jump on him right away. Damon’s sweater on him isn’t helping much his self-control. He focuses on Kris heartbeat, slower and more familiar, to keep him grounded.

"It's better if you sit down on the couch. The first time can be overwhelming for both," he suggests.

So Damon and he take place on the couch, Kris follows them, sitting behind Damon. He holds him, a comforting, warm, human touch.

"Do you want to know what you'll feel?" Bojan asks, looking the photographer in the eyes.

One side of Damon wants to know it, so he can at least be prepared, but the other one doesn't. No, he wants to dive into those feelings, experience them without any anticipation. He then shakes his head.

"Where do you want to bite?" he asks then.

Bojan's eyes, now as red as blood, lower and stop on his neck, so pale and so alluring. He feels like a moth attracted by the light of a lantern in the middle of a night without moon, so captivating but so dangerous at the same time.

Kris notices Bojan’s look, where it’s laying, so he puts his hand in Damon's hair, tilting his head back for Bojan, an offering. His gesture is forceful but gentle at the same time.

Bojan leans forward, closes his eyes and kisses Damon’s neck before sinking his fangs in his skin and then deep in his flesh. When the first drops of blood touch his tongue, he moans intensively. Damon's blood is so delicious, much more than what he expected.

Without even realising Bojan straddles Damon's laps and pushes him until he's completely laying on Kris, the vampire on top of him. It feels like ecstasy. Bojan is so used to feeding on his friends that he forgot the pleasure of unknown blood running down his throat. The bond creating between the vampire and the human. The pure sense of trust of letting a creature like him taking away something so important. Damon's blood is singing to him and he could write both melody and lyrics based on what he's feeling in that moment.

He’s too lost in it. He's drinking and drinking and it's addicting. Until Damon starts getting dizzy, eyes feeling closed, and it's Kris who warns him.

"Bojči." Then, more firmly. "Bojan."

And Bojan pulls away reluctantly, dazed, eyes a little glassy, panting with his mouth open and dirty with blood, that's also running down from his lips, dripping on Damon’s white t-shirt.

"Fuck," he breathes. "Damon."

Damon, half-dazed himself, looks up at Bojan, and he sees the fangs and the red eyes but all he can think is how beautiful Bojan looks. His perfect profile, those beautiful features, like something out of a novel, and the blood and the shadows just heighten it. He reaches a weak hand up, traces his cheek, murmurs a feeble "you're beautiful."

Bojan leans forward then, licking the last drops from the wound, licking it closed, but then staying there, breathing in Damon's scent, placing a kiss where the wound had been. And when he moves away, so that he can look at Damon again, Damon's hand has found its way into his hair.

And he doesn't know who moves first, but suddenly they're kissing. They're kissing and Damon is moaning and Kris is there, holding Damon, his hands find their way under Damon's t-shirt, tweaking a nipple, which makes Damon gasp into Bojan's mouth.

Bojan breaks the kiss so reluctantly, resting his forehead against Damon's, murmuring "fuck" a second time. He wants, he wants everything.

Vampires can give different types of bites. The ones given when the vampire wants only to feed are violent and brutal, but the ones given when a human offers his blood and shows his trust...well, those ones are truly intense and can cause great pleasure, both in the vampire and the human.

Bojan notoriously has great self-control, but Damon is really testing his limits. He is scared but at the same time he wants to give in to his instincts, to the taste of pleasure he got from possessing Damon in that way. He wants to possess him totally, in every aspect.

"Kris, I want more," he reverts to Slovenian, his mind is clouded and thinking in English is really hard. His voice sounds more like a growl. He raises his head to look Kris in the eyes.

And Kris recognises the longing in Bojan's red eyes, the desire, the craving. He experienced on his own skin and body the frenzy that blood can cause on a vampire and on the human they feed on.

Damon in the meantime starts kissing Bojan's neck. He wants him too, that bite made him feel all sorts of things, from deep pain to intense pleasure. He expected it to hurt, not to be aroused by it.

Kris wants them too. Maybe it's a sick kink but observing Bojan feeding and moaning because of the blood always awakes something in him.

Kris then kisses Bojan, his lips still dirty with blood, basically giving him the permission to continue what he was doing with Damon.

Bojan grabs Damon’s face with a hand, gently diverting it from his neck, so he can kiss him on the lips deeply. His fangs touch slightly Damon’s lips, making him shudder intensively.

They undress him, soon after their clothes end up on the floor too. Bojan kisses Damon all over his body, tasting his excitement and making him whimper. In those brief moments of clarity, Damon can see that Bojan and Kris are used to do this together, so he completely hands over the control to them.

Oh, the sex with a vampire is even better than drugs. Bojan knows perfectly where and how to touch Damon to make him whimper and moan. He bites him in specific points on his body, liking the wounds right after to not make him bleed out.

Kris joins barely, just to kiss Damon sometimes or to make Bojan tone down what he’s doing, to not make him completely give in to his instincts and do something he will regret.

They all reach their climax at the same time, Kris almost untouched, the view of Bojan carnally possessing Damon was enough for him. They all collapse on the couch, panting and shaking because of the pleasure they just experienced. Damon’s body is covered in bitemarks. Bojan is on top of them, his head is on Damon’s chest, eyes closed.

Kris starts running a hand through Bojan’s hair and plays with some of his strands. That simple gesture can make him calm down and relax after some intense emotions. Damon imitates Kris, still a bit hesitant. And Bojan begins purring, just like a cat.

“Is-is he purring?” Damon asks, surprised.

“Yes,” Kris giggles. “He loves when you touch his hair.”

They keep cuddling Bojan as he slowly gets back from the high of the intercourse.

“It was a photographer who turned me,” he suddenly talks. He decided to explain to Damon why he reacted in that way during their first photoshoot. “She approached me when I was barely 20. She bewitched me, oh-she was stunning, the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

“A photographer?” Damon asks.

“Yes,” Bojan raises his head to look him in the eyes. He grabs one of his hands and intertwines their fingers. “She thought that I was the perfect muse for her work. She kept taking pictures of me for a couple of years, she fed on me, then turned me against my will, just because she wanted that my beauty lasted forever. Even turned I was helpless, I couldn’t escape, she had full control over me.”

Damon gently caresses Bojan’s cheek, trying to comfort him. He can see the distress he’s feeling while telling him about his past.

“You don’t have to tell me-”

“I want to,” he interrupts him. “You trusted me, you showed it to me, and this is me showing you I trust you. The only people that know my story are my bandmates.”

Damon nods slowly in response. Bojan is showing his other vulnerable side, the moment he lost his humanity to become a demon of the night, a monster that feeds on people to survive. Bojan then keeps telling him his story: how important he felt when he was with her, how he liked her attentions, how she basically tricked him into letting her feed on him and then turn him into this monster, how she dragged Kris into the picture and how they eventually escaped from her.

"I killed her."

“You...killed her?”

Bojan nods. “She was seriously threatening Kris. He is part of my nest, and no one can hurt him. So I snapped, she couldn’t control me anymore and I killed her. I don’t regret what I did, she deserved it.”

Silence falls once again among them. Damon is clearly trying to process that piece of information.

“Vampires are protective of their nest. They are social creatures, just like us humans, and they will do everything to protect the people they care about,” Kris explains.

“Am...am I part of this nest, now?”

Bojan nods. “Yes. I know that we can't be always together, but I’ll make sure no one touches you,” he kisses Damon on the lips. “You accepted me for who and what I am. You are important to me.”

#sospeso tra finzione e realtà #joker out fanfic #joker out #bojan cvjetićanin #kris guštin #annies writes #my writing #<- kind of lmao #vampire!bojan

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yulin-pop · 2 years

Text

⤷ ✧ My romances

- order 36 | One-shot | Malleus

Gender neutral

Note: Holy wow Malleus brain rot hit me like a truck.

There was something off, it was extremely obvious to everyone around you. You wouldn’t stay focused, which caused big repercussions from everyone else.

“Hey, are you even listening to me?”

“Oh huh?”

“I need your opinion on my essay. Also can you do a quick grammar and spelling check?”

“What was that?”

“Pose for the photo!”

“Mmm…”

It was blatantly obvious that something was on your mind which was causing you to be completely spaced out most of the day.

The people around you were fed up. The four first years all sat in their seats, all staring at you as if they were begging for your attention.

You looked down at your notebook which was full of scribbles and small notes in class despite classes already over.

“Man, they’re totally lost.” Grim said while crossing his arms.

Epel let his head fall down to the desk, his arms cushioning his head from hitting the wood. “They really oughta go back to their old self.”

Ace yelled out in agreement while Deuce simply nodded.

“What caused them to suddenly get so airheaded all of a sudden? Or not even airheaded— empty headed.” Ace snarled.

“I don’t know. It's annoying though. This needs to be fixed as soon as possible!” Grim hopped over to you and yanked on your ear. The sudden pain could not be ignored and you were pulled back to reality.

“Ow— you annoying little — LET GO!“ You cursed. You seemed almost disappointed to be woken up from your daydream.

Deuce, Epel, and Ace shared a look before Ace opened his mouth. “What’s up with you lately?” He asked while raising an eyebrow. “You’re always spacing out. We were trying to talk to you for like five minutes and no response.”

Deuce spoke up, “Is there anything bothering you?”

You glanced away while contemplating something. Eventually you faced them again with a sigh.

“I can’t get this guy out of my head.” You confessed, “I don’t even know his name but everything about him enchants me. I feel like I’ve met him before… Once upon a dream, he appeared before me. He had black, long hair and his eyes glowed green that pierced me. He offered me his hand. When I took it, everything felt light and enchanting.” You seemed to reminisce before continuing.

“But then I saw him, not in a dream but there. The moon was clear in the sky. I saw him, he was staring up at the moon. But he looked sad. I went over to him and he appeared startled and even angry. But I couldn’t care. I just had to speak to him. He’s like a prince, I don't feel worthy but I can’t help but gravitate towards him.”

You closed your eyes and then your hands came up to your face, you smiled intoxicatingly bright.

“I can’t get him out of my head! I’ve been seeing him every night. He doesn’t even come to watch the moon anymore, I think he’s there for me!”

The four others shared the same disgusted, cringed expression. Deuce was the first to speak up. He cleared his throat and nodded.

“S-sounds like a lot…”

“Aha… Right.” Epel agreed.

“All of these troubles for us because of some dude?” Scoffed Ace, annoyed that he was ever bothered by your behavior at this point.

Everyone seemed pretty done with you because of your reasoning. Yet you only sat there and smiled to yourself at the very memory of this guy you don’t even know the name of.

“Mister, you weren’t here yesterday.” You said while looking up at the sky.

“I had matters to attend to. And, is there any reason you refer to me as mister?”

“You haven’t told me your name yet.” You quickly said back.

“Haven’t I said that you may call me whatever you like?” He recalled the memory of stating so.

“I haven’t gotten anything that fits you.” You whined a bit but in a playful manner. “You don’t have to tell me your name unless you want to!” You cheered.

A smile played across his face which caused you to shrink back a bit and look forward again.

“May I be honest with you?” He asked in a serious tone.

“Of course.”

“I’m afraid my identity will scare you, and you will leave me.” He could barely even get that sentence out before you shouted out again.

“I would never do that! Why would I be scared of you?” You claimed. He only gazed at your eyes flared with determination.

Malleus exhaled and moved his arm to cup your cheek.

“How cute.” He said, almost mockingly.

Your eyes went big and heat grew to your cheeks. You averted your eyes, clearly embarrassed but you didn’t dare pull away. You put your hand over his.

Each second in a slow movement towards one another thickened the tension. He gently used his other hand to part your lips. You didn’t even process the motion until his forehead touched yours.

But you didn’t want this to stop.

Next morning, Grim seemed to be staying away from you. As soon as you woke him up, he ran away to the bathroom and then said to go on without him.

“My stomach hurts! Just go, I’m gonna be here for a while!”

You put your hands on your hips and frowned, “Well okay, I’ll see you in class.”

You couldn’t find Ace or Deuce so you settled on talking with Sebek, since he seemed to be the only other in the classroom.

“Erghh.. My young master has been acting so strange lately.” He complained while squeezing his pen.

“Malleus Draconia? Also what do you mean he’s been acting strange?” You asked while scribbling around in your paper.

“How do I explain it… My young master has been smiling to himself and muttering things. I see no problem with it but it’s usual because he usually does not do this.” Sebek elaborated.

You raised an eyebrow and looked back down to your paper. “That isn’t a problem, right? If he’s happy then you should be happy!”

“I don’t remember you being so positive. Why are the people around me seem to be so… positive all of a sudden.”

Suddenly, all your other friends were acting funny. They were very reluctantly talking to you but started staring at you in class.

At this point, it was just unnerving. You were ready to grab Ace and ask him why he was acting funny but you were quickly confronted by six people.

Ace, Deuce, Grim, Epel, Jack, and oddly enough Sebek. They pushed you into an empty corridor. Now this was really weird.

“Hey what’s up with you guys? You guys have been acting weird…”

“Why are you dating the young mast—“

“Shut up Sebek!”

You raised an eyebrow in concern at his words. “Your master? I am not dating anybody!!” You shook your head seriously.

“Okay, lemme ask ya this. Do ya even know what Malleus looks like?” Epel grabbed your shoulders and glared.

“Uh no. I’ve never seen him around.” You quickly said back.

“He has horns.”

“He’s pretty tall and his hair is long in the back and chin length in the front.”

“Green eyes… Uhh he’s a fae with pointed ears.”

It took a moment before you processed all of it. You smiled as you nodded. “Wh-What does Malleus have to do with me?”

All six of them glared at you impatiently. Grim hopped up in an outrage and pointed.

“Malleus is the guy you kissed last night! You thought no one was watching… YOU WERE WRONG I WAS WATCHING THE WHOLE TIME!”

You covered your mouth with your hand and backed up into the wall. You could see the outrage in their eyes.

Sebek grabbed you this time and glared holes through your head. “You’re the reason why the young master has been acting differently. Someone like you isn’t worthy of him!”

You looked shocked but soon you just looked down without any expression. “I know that. Even without knowing his identity, I knew he was far more important than me. I don’t think that we’d ever actually be together.” It was pitiful.

There was an off putting silence before Deuce cut in. “But then why would you k-kiss him if you don’t want to be together?”

“At that point, aren’t you just playin with his feelings?” Jack frowned disapprovingly.

“Playing with his feelings…?” You tilted your head to look him in the eyes.

“What if he actually wants you? Not just a weird relationship you’ve got goin on.” Ace suggested tilting his own head.

That was definitely something you had to think about. But unfortunately it wasn’t much time until it was the usual time for him to come around. You pressed your hand against the window as you saw the bright specks of light appear from outside.

“You’re a bit late.” He commented on seeing you appear at the door and close it with a light click.

You looked off to the side as you stepped closer to him, you quickly looked over at the window where Grim hopefully slept.

There was something off with you. He knew that. You looked uncomfortable.

“Is there anything wrong?” He asked slowly.

“Y-You’re Malleus Draconia.” He jolted suddenly and you could feel his arm around you tense up. “Expected that, but that’s not the problem.”

You shrugged his arm off of you and stared at him almost apologetically. Malleus gave you his full attention, his fingers twitching slightly waiting for you to speak.

“I want to be straightforward about this. Do you want to love in the long term?”

Without any hesitation, he responded with a yes. Somehow that made you feel worse.

“Do you really…?”

“Why would I not? I don’t want to imagine the future without you anymore. If I were to lose you, I wouldn’t stand for it.”

You couldn’t understand. You didn’t know him up until today but he knew you. You were a almost worthless human from another world that has no magic or trait that makes you special when he’s a legit prince, a powerful fae at that.

You couldn’t understand why he truly wanted to be with you.

“I don’t understand.” You shook your head.

“Perhaps I’ll have to make you.” He grabbed your waist and swiftly moved his lips to connect with yours.

“Oh boy, they’re awfully smiley today.” Ace remarked while leaning back in his chair.

“Even after what we told em..” Grim yawned.

#malleus draconia x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #malleus draconia #personal writings

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trexrambling · 1 year

Text

Broken Heels (I / III)

Request: “There's a protective Dean and Sam some kind of thing. They're friends with fem!reader, a shy and graceful girl. A long time ago the brothers took her in and a deep friendship was born. She only helps with research because she suffers from a heart failure, which leads to her being often dizzy nauseated and breathless. The brother care for her and always keep an eye out on her. Dean is secretly in love with her and vice versa. But neither of them admits it. One night Dean brings home some of his flings and the girl is really cruel to the reader.... Reader spirals into a rabbit hole, taking the things the bitch said to her to heart.... And shit hits the fan?! Some angst, drama and fluff, protective Winchesters.” - by anon

Word Count: 2,200

Warnings: side effects due to heart failure, language, bullying, mentions of blood, negative self-talk

A/N: Italics refers to flashbacks. I broke this request into two three parts because it ended up being much longer than expected. I also re-used one of my previous drabbles as the first flashback in this fic. No beta, all mistakes are mine, please message me if you see any! Watercolor heart from the header image credit.

(Read Part 2)

xxxxxxxxxx

“I’m not going to hurt you. I promise.”

You plaster yourself even further into the corner, the cement walls of the crevice you’re in cold against your sweaty skin. Your limbs are still shaking, trembling, in fact, an uncontrollable reaction to the fear still coursing through your veins.

“Are you injured?”

You assess yourself without moving, but your brain can’t track anything.

His boot scrapes the ground as he repositions himself in a sitting position. The harsh sound almost makes you scream, and you shut your eyes tight.

“Sorry,” he says quietly. You can see him out of your peripherals, his jean clad legs drawn up, bare arms resting on his knees, hands clasped together. There’s a dark red splash of blood on his leg and grime coating his forearms. He runs his hands through his short hair and lets out a deep sigh, but doesn’t say anything else.

You don’t know how much time passes as he sits there with you. Both of your feet fall asleep, the pins and needles biting up your ankles, reminding you that you’re still alive. You settle onto your bottom, letting the blood flow resume its normal route. By the time he speaks again, the rigidity has left most of your muscles.

“I remember the first time I saw a werewolf attack,” he gently starts. “I was ten. Followed my dad one night. Really wish I hadn’t. I didn’t even see the action, just the blood and bodies. Scared the hell out of me.”

You feel the tears run down your cheeks as you start crying, the full reality of what just happened finally hitting you.

“It’s okay if you’re scared. But I promise that I’m not going to let anything happen to you. I’m not going anywhere.”

A sob catches in your throat, and your shoulders shake alongside it.

“What’s your name?”

“Y/N,” you manage to choke out.

“Y/N, it’s good to meet you. I’m Dean.” His hand extends into the hole you’re in, palm up. “Let’s get you out of here.”

xxxxxxxxxx

“Y/N, you in here?”

Dean’s voice carries across the room, startling you from your sleep. The memory that had wrapped itself into your dreams, the day that Dean had pulled you from the hole of an old life and into the light of another, fades with each blink of your heavy eyelids. You don’t have time to answer him because he’s already rounded the row of shelves, eyes latching onto you and a smile simultaneously finding his lips.

“There you are. Sam said you were here doing research, but that was hours ago.”

He’s wearing his ‘fed’ suit, the loosened tie indicating that he’s done interviewing for the day. You sit up fully in the old armchair you’d made your home base, eyes falling to your watch and eyebrows rising in surprise.

“Shit, I must have fallen asleep.”

You glance around the library, notice the lack of people and the low, golden light beaming through the windows. You close the open book in your lap and add it to the stack on the table beside you, knees yelling in protest as you unfold them so your feet can find the floor.

His hand comes into view, extended as an offering of help, which you gladly accept. He clasps your palm firmly in his, gently pulls you to your feet, his other hand coming to your back to steady you. He waits a few seconds before letting go, a necessary habit that both brothers had formed over the past year. Your lungs are tight, and a cough threatens to push its way up your throat. Deep breaths, eyes closed, you focus all of your energy into suppressing it.

“You good?”

It’s a question you’re asked more times than you care to count, like a mantra that everyone around you can’t help but reply with any time you so much as twitch in a concerning manner.

You open your eyes again, meet his with a smile. “I’m great.” You stuff your notebook into your bag and swing it over your shoulder before placing a hand on the crook of his arm. “What did you guys learn from the locals today? I found a few leads myself that we can follow up on.”

You walk out of the library together, Dean supporting you, like he always does.

xxxxxxxxxx

“Dammit!”

You hurl another shoe at the door, your back sliding down the wall as you sink to the floor with it, sobs wracking your body. The dress you’re wearing billows around your legs, your now bare feet tucked under you. Arms wrapped tightly around yourself, you let the tears fall. You know your makeup is going to be ruined. You don’t really care.

“Y/N?”

Three hesitant knocks follow your name, then-

“You good? Can I come in?”

Even if you wanted to answer, you can’t. Your lungs begin their typical protest, a cough soon shaking your frame. You try to pull in a breath but only find yourself weezing between each cough, your head spinning alongside them.

A warm hand appears on your back, firmly rubbing circles.

“Sammy! Get some water!”

Dean slides between you and the wall, his legs on either side of you, pulling you back into his chest while he says, “Breathe, Y/N. Just take a breath. Nice and slow.”

The hand that had been covering your mouth is now speckled with bright red. You look down at your dress through watery eyes, see the spots there as well, stark against the pale blue fabric.

Sam appears in front of you, resting on his knees with a glass of water in one hand. “Here, take a sip. Nice and slow.” He helps you find the straw, and you manage to suck down a small sip of metallic tasting water before another cough overtakes you.

It takes some time, but your chest slowly grows less tight, your throat finding relief with each drink. You finally lean your head back against Dean’s chest, pull a long and even breath through your nose and let it out with a sigh.

“What’s going on with the shoes?” Dean asks.

You look at the scattered pile of high heels that litter the floor of your room, a grimace scrunching your nose as you feel your face redden with embarrassment.

“Yeah…sorry about that.”

Sam reaches for the shoe closest to him, picks it up and turns it over in his hands. “Think you threw this one a little too hard.” He pushes the thin heel with his finger and you watch as it swings on the base like a door hinge, barely holding on.

You shrug. “Doesn't matter, they’re worthless now, anyway.”

Dean rests his head on top of yours and squeezes your hand that you only just now realize he’s been holding the entire time. “What does that mean?”

More tears well up, and you swallow hard to try and keep them down. “I can’t wear them anymore. I tried, I put on this dress, I did something nice with my hair for once, strapped on those damn heels. But I can’t walk in them anymore. My balance is to shit these days. I can’t go two feet without getting dizzy. Almost broke my damn ankle.”

The way Sam’s looking at you makes you wish the floor would open up and swallow you to avoid the mortification. You sniff and let go of Dean’s hand to rub the sure to be smudges out from under your eyes, push the hairs that had escaped their clips back into place.

“I’m fine. I’m okay. I’m just being stupid. You guys go on ahead and go to this gala thing without me. I’ll just slow you down, anyway.”

Dean finally gets up from behind you, the lack of contact creating a very noticeable bubble of cold air in its wake. Sam stands up beside him, sets the broken heel down on your bed, and then they’re both extending a hand down to you.

You look up from your place on the floor, eyes tight in confusion. “What?”

Dean rolls his eyes. “Sweetheart, if you think we’re leaving you behind, well, think again.”

“But I can’t-”

“Who says you have to wear heels? I’m not wearing heels. Sam’s not wearing heels, at least I think he’s not. So why should you?”

You hesitate another second before reaching out to let them help you to your feet, neither brother letting go once you’re standing.

You sniff back stray snot, look down at the crimson spots on your dress. “I’ll need something else to wear.”

“Considering you look damn good in anything, that shouldn't be a problem,” Dean says with a wink.

xxxxxxxxxx

The motel door bangs open loudly, making you jump. You look up from the show you’d been watching on your tablet, eyes widening as a woman you have never seen before walks in. Each step in her stiletto heels exhibits confidence, like she has the right to be in every room she enters. Including the one you’re occupying, apparently.

“Um, hello?”

Her eyes cut to your voice, quickly finding you at the corner table. “Oh, who are you?”

You take in her sleek black dress, dangling earrings, and bright red lipstick and immediately feel self-conscious in your sweats and oversized T-shirt. “I’m Y/N. This is my room.”

Her lips pout. “No, this is Dean’s room. Four-oh-five. He told me to meet him here.”

The muscles in your jaw clench, amusement promptly turning to anger. “Ah. Gotcha. Well… as his girlfriend, I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to leave.”

She laughs, a loud cackle that makes your ears grow warm. “Oh, you sweet little thing. As if.” She chuckles to herself, walks a few feet closer to rest on the edge of the bed, one dainty leg crossing the other, her shiny heels reflecting in the lamp’s light. “You must be the girl he was telling me about at the bar. Who was it… his sister?” She smiles, tight and cold. “Now be a dear, because I must have gotten the rooms mixed up. Where’s Dean staying?”

You’ve had enough at this point, in more ways than one. Anger mixed with embarrassment has your face flushed and your heart beating much faster than it should be as you push the chair back and stand.

“Listen, I don’t know who the hell you think you are, but…but…”

Your head swims as black dots coat your line of sight. You must have gotten up a bit too fast, and it takes a few breaths for the dizziness to subside. It’s only a few seconds, but the silence following the start of your sentence is painstakingly obvious. When you look at her again, she’s staring with mild traces of disdain, a scrunch creasing her nose.

“What are you,” she scoffs, “a cripple?”

Any fight you’d been carrying inside of you immediately disappears at her words. You open your mouth to respond, but no sound comes out; just a startled stifling of emotions and thoughts leaving your mind completely blank.

She snaps her fingers at you. “Hello? God, are you stupid, too?”

You slowly sink back into your chair, clearing your throat as you fold your arms tightly around you. “Can you please leave?” you manage to whisper.

She sighs, long and dramatic. “You still haven’t told me where Dean is staying.”

As if on cue, the door opens again and Dean’s long legs carry him into the room. He spots you immediately, surprise and confusion painting his face.

“Y/N, hey. What are you doing here?” He looks between you and the girl still sitting on the bed, then focuses back on you. “Sam said you guys were working through the stuff you found at the library.”

You nod, clear your throat. “Yeah, we were. We, uh, we’re taking a break. He went for a food run.” You very much need to be anywhere but here right now. You carefully stand again, unplug your tablet, and hold it tightly to your chest. “Needed to borrow your charger. Sorry, I’ll… I’m leaving now.”

It takes all of your willpower to not bolt out of the room, to take steadily measured steps across the worn carpet, to keep your eyes on the floor and off of the woman that you can see sneering in your peripherals.

Dean’s hand is suddenly on your arm, gently stopping you right before you make it to the doorway, turning you towards him.

“Hey, you good?”

You look at him then, read the discomfort on his face, watch his eyes flit between you and the girl he’s brought back to his bed for the night. The girl that’s not you. That’s never you. The girl who can still wear tight dresses and won’t trip in heels. The girl that’s beautiful without trying, that catches the eye of every man in the room. The girl who can undoubtedly show a man the time of his life without needing to rest to catch her breath.

The girl that Dean wants.

You smile, but it doesn’t reach your eyes. “I’m great. See you in the morning.”

xxxxxxxxxx

Read Part 2

#broken heels #spn fanfic #requests #dean x reader #dean fanfic

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wolfpawzjakey · 3 days

Note

[Cannibalism, murder, death penalty, child abuse is implied, PTSD is implied].

Jason does not know how to lie to himself, idealize and live in his fantasies. He can't, but he wants to. this is probably due to Jupiter, because his father was called someone who "does not see lies and falsehoods".

That's why he knows it's not just nightmares. He lies to Percy, he lies to others, but never to himself.

the girl with the torn throat and eaten out insides, who was most likely the daughter of Phoebus, he was 7 and he wanted to eat, even if it was meat, was a living person. a young man, the son of Mercurius, a deserter and a fugitive, he sobbed, he begged for mercy, he said that he would become a father, which is why he fled for the sake of a mortal girl.Jason executed him with a blank stare and a lack of any response in his soul. He's 10 and he's already broken off.

And there are dozens of them, dozens of those whom he killed Without any regret simply because they broke the law, did something wrong or even worse because he was stronger than them...

Jason does not know how to lie to himself, idealize and live in his fantasies. He's a murderer, he didn't give a damn about the life he took, that's as clear as day.

My little wolf cub, I love you but I'm hurting you. I'm sorry... By the way, I remind you once again that your mind is amazing — Lou June 🪷

This, but imagine too that he’s being fed these dreams and they’re only showing the half of it, the half that makes Jason out to be cold and heartless child murdered. The image of the daughter of Phoebus are stuck in his mind, the connecting image of his young self covered in the carnage he’d delivered, but he doesn’t remember how he was forced to eat her, to cosine the flesh of another human because he was two steps to deaths door himself, with only a day or two more of no meals or proper hydration, he’d die. He doesn’t remember that he was told to hunt on his own because if he couldn’t keep up with his wolf siblings, he would never make it anywhere, he would never be able to prove that he’s worthy of being the champion he was being raised to be.

And at age 10, when he takes the life of the son of Mercurius, his memory is correct, but he fails to feel the sympathy he deserves for his younger self, the sympathy he feels now for the other young campers at Camp Jupiter. He fails to feel the same remorse and deep pains he feels for younger campers who too have done considerable amounts of harm more than good for the survival of themselves and for the sake of living up to the gods who pressure them so.

Jason is not allowed these key thoughts, not allowed to lie, idealize, and fantasize, because while he’s alive, Hera and those in her grasp will do everything to mold his mind back into that broken off place she desires him to be in until his life is inevitably lose from this plane.

#percy jackson #jason grace #hoo #toa #jason grace headcanon #pawz replies #asks #lou june 🪷#tw canibalism

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fulmis · 1 year

Text

Home - Part II (Joel Miller x F!Reader)

Summary: As you join Tess and Joel, you learn a thing or two at Bill and Frank's.

Warnings: Mentions of guns and I think that's about it, this is mostly some slight pining and slight spoilers for episode 3 of the series

A/N: I just remembered how sad episode 3 was ): also I apologize if there are any typos or mistakes pls let me know. Once again thank you so much for reading, please stay hydrated and ily. If you like the story, please consider reblogging!

Word count: 1.4K

Years passed by since that rainy night. Surely, you earned your place, with years of effort and patience, but the decision paid off in the long run. Their trust was hard-earned because their loyalty was as valuable as their ruthlessness. The world had turned into a dangerous minefield, and while you’d done your best to survive, the odds of making life anything better than what the QZ offered you were raised with the right company.

Time was anything but kind to the three of you, yet you remained alive. Safety wasn’t a real thing in this world anymore, but you did what you could to get by; daily routines included getting bossed around by FEDRA agents, moving and delivering cargo after curfew, and the occasional trip out of the QZ for merchandize. More often than not, the latter proved to be both in the highlights of your memories.

Many lessons were learned in those trips, as well as many firsts. There was the first time Joel taught you how to properly shoot, after being fed up with your seemingly endless missing attempts. The weather had finally cooled down, early autumn slowly creeping in after days and nights of scorching heat. You were on your way to Bill and Frank’s, approximately halfway through. Open grass that stood for miles ahead told you the walls that encapsuled Boston were finally far away from you. On the other side of your line of sight started the trees you were walking towards, on your way to set up camp for the night.

A hand took hold of your shoulder and made you stop following Tess’s lead. You turned with curious eyes to face Joel. “Let’s stop for a minute,” he looked at you then directed his eyes to Tess. “We can’t keep going if she doesn’t know how to shoot”.

So, you set up a few empty cans over a rock while Tess gathered wood nearby to start a fire. You took a stand a good couple of feet away from your target and held up the gun in your hand. “See, that’s where you start off”.

“What do you mean?”

“You can’t hold a gun like that,” a calloused hand wrapped around yours. “You need to take hold higher along the grip… yeah like that, now put your left thumb under the other. Left hand squeezes down on the right”. As he talked, his own fingers squeezed tightly around yours; the sheer strength, even if you know it’s the barest hint of what he’s actually capable of, made your heartbeat faster. “Now aim again”.

There was also the first time you were allowed inside Bill and Frank’s house, a few years after that first visit. According to Tess and Joel, Bill wasn’t easy to trust someone, so they kept your first visits strictly to business and the lunch Frank made him reluctantly cook. On a rare occasion, after the food that proved to be the high point of your whole year, Bill and Frank exchanged a look then Bill cleared his throat, “You, guys uh… would like to stay the night?… It seems to be getting a little late, and Joel, I might have some work for you on the fence system”.

The three of you widened your eyes in disbelief, and Frank gave Bill the proudest of smiles. Night came around, and you found yourself in the middle of Frank’s painting room. You wondered across the space, fingers grazing the unused canvases which you recognized from past trips here: one of the things you had traded with Bill. That time it had seemed unusual his insistence on getting art supplies, but you had learned not to question what people were looking to exchange. Still, as you stepped in the room the answer was laid before your eyes. Countless paintings were scattered all around, bold colors melted in the canvases, some of sunsets, others of flowers, but mostly variations of the same face: a love letter in shades that caught your eye.

Not even the hot shower you had gotten a few hours ago warmed your heart like this. You wondered what it would feel like, to have anything that resembled the love that stood right before you. It was silly to want it, you knew, to wish of love when the world was left in shambles. Before the outbreak happened, you never really pictured yourself getting married or building a life with anyone, your priorities definitely far away from that. The feeling was only exacerbated when everything was taken away from you, your family, your friends, and anything you had ever loved before.

No one was exempt from loss anymore, but the choice to not go through it again was all yours; at least that’s what you told yourself. The best course of action looked like keeping anyone at bay from your heart, for better of worse. To your dismay, the more you stood in the room the more it started to look like you had been lying to yourself.

The thing was that maybe love was never your priority, it just happened to have never truly left your mind. Life had turned into a survival camp since so many years ago that it just took a spot in the back of your soul, much like any other menial desire that wasn’t a necessity. For so long your focus had been placed under doing whatever it took to make it into another day that you had forgotten life like this could exist.

Violence polluted almost every corner of earth, that seeing quite the opposite felt close to dream. A whole house of a dream, filled with memories of a lifetime, worn by use not damaged by being forgotten. It smelled of food and was adorned by mementos carefully gathered through the years. During late afternoons, Bill would sit next to Frank in the porch that was right next to this room, the door open so they could talk while Frank painted. Nights were spent playing the piano or reading books out loud to each other, or so had Frank told you. It wasn’t a tale of folklore, it all stood right in front of you.

Who even found love in the apocalypse? Being here surrounded by a home, by the closest to normalcy you had seen in ages felt surreal. By all means, there may never be a future like this in your cards, but it certainly wasn’t impossible if they were able to find it. That single thought sparked a sense of hope in your heart that you found hard to shake since that day, regardless of how much you tried to drown it with reality in the years to come.

“Did you like to paint?” A familiar husky voice snapped you out of your daydream.

“Huh?”

“Before… uh, before it all happened.” Joel took place right next to you, crossing his arms and nodding towards the canvases in front of you.

“Oh, no… I mean, I wouldn’t know, I never really tried before…” You take a look at him, strong arms straining a button down he definitely wasn’t wearing before, dark brown hair damp and combed back. Before you were able to consider him any longer his eyes met yours and forced you to look away, the weight of holding his gaze suddenly too much to bear.

“What did you do?” At the sudden question, you couldn’t help but look up again, the simplicity in it amusing on its own. A soft chuckle escaped your lips, this was probably the longest you had talked to Joel about anything that was personal, and in hindsight it was one of the rare moments he inquired about you in private.

“I… wow, I guess I liked to cook. Nothing fancy, just… for fun I guess. My mom taught me, she was a great cook… I haven’t really done anything like that since…” He gave you an apologetic look, almost as if he was sorry he had asked in the first place, but you just smiled in acknowledgement.

“I’m sorry if I-”

“What about you? I don’t expect to believe your only talent is shooting clickers”

That seemed to appease his sudden nerves, the barest hint of a smirk at the side of his lips. “No, uh… a contractor”

“So that��s where the handyman skills come from,” your smile was quickly reciprocated, a rare sighting all in all. The rest of the convesation was dropped from your memory at some point in time; nevertheless, nothing could have erased that smile, probably the most important first you gathered in that trip, one you would look back on time and time again, one more spark to fuel the fire that slowly grew inside your heart, no matter how hard you tried to deny it.

------

Read Part III here!

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #the last of us series #the last of us hbo #the last of us #joel miller #joel miller the last of us #joel miller tlou #joel the last of us #joel tlou #tlou series #tlou fanfiction

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maskyartist · 1 year

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Okay I’m making this it’s own post cause I’m fucking losing my mind, but mostly over one thing and that’s Roman Torchwick and how he’s characterized in this single moment

Now keep in mind I haven’t watched the full episode, nor have I gotten the chance to read Roman Holiday (a damn shame I know), but I don’t think I need to rn to ramble about this point cause it just hit me like a train.

CRWBY never forgot about Roman. They didn’t just kill him off and make Neo go solo.

They set this up from the start.

The fact that Neo is silent means we can never truly know what’s going on in her head. We don’t know her thoughts. We don’t know her feelings. All we knew was she was mad for Roman and went to get Cinder for it, then Ruby herself. But never the full extent of it all.

Neo’s muteness made US, the audience, almost forget about Roman to watch her perform as a side piece to a lot of the villains. Never truly forgetting, but assuming he wouldn’t be brought up again. The hat and scarf would be reminders but never would they actually mention Roman because they killed him off in such an unceremonious way.

So to actually see THIS

To see just how deep these two went, to get full in show confirmation that they were partners in every sense of the word (romantic or platonic take it how u will but I love some Gelato so this fed me well), only to have him SPEAK? It throws you off.

Not only is it confirmation that Roman was never forgotten, but it also proves one thing about Neo that I think is so important.

She had nothing beyond Roman. “One Thing” was right. She had Roman, and he was taken away from her. And for the rest of the series, through every adventure, every appearance, every moment she was and wasn’t on screen-

She was thinking of him. Remembering him. Keeping him in her thoughts.

I understand that Neo talking through Roman makes sense and that’s why he’s got the most speaking lines, but I do find it interesting that everyone else from the “dead people lineup” is so quiet. Such a caricature of themselves.

Neo never met them personally, she doesn’t even know Leo or Clover, and Penny, Pyrrha, Ironwood, and Ozpin are all based on Ruby’s own memories Wonderland is probably pulling from her. But even they’re barebones. The only ones who have speaking lines are Penny, Pyrrha, and Ozpin and they are extremely generic.

Meanwhile, Roman is fully fleshed out. A whole person. He has his attitude, his emotions, his reactions, Neo never forgot him. She never forgot his exact self.

She uses him as her mic because he was always her voice. He was the one who made things make sense.

The line “That’s what I offered her back on Remnant.” just proves how long Neo’s thought of him. Never forgetting their promises, never forgetting his words, never forgetting him.

How many nights did Neo stay up thinking of him? How many times did she create his illusion just to play pretend for a little longer?

Everyone forgot Roman. After his death, he practically never existed. Left everyone’s minds. He wasn’t important by that point because he wasn’t an immediate threat.

But Neo never forgot.

And somehow that’s more terrifying then I thought it would be… The idea of her constantly thinking about him, trying to keep him alive in her mind. It’s no longer just about Ruby killing Roman, it’s that she forgot. That’s what ticked Neo off even more, that Ruby didn’t even view what she did as important enough to remember.

“That’s what this is about?! You still blame me for What happened to Torchwick!”

As if to say “Really? That’s all this is? Just him?”

To her, it’s mockery. As if he wasn’t even worth her time when Roman meant everything to Neo. He was her whole world, judging by, once again-

“Always loved the idea of a place to run away from it all… Do whatever you want! I offered that to her back on Remnant.”

Roman took care of reality, while Neo was able to live in her fantasy world. He handled the world. She just had to live in it, perform for it, and enjoy whatever popped up next. He brought her the escape she’s always wanted. A world where no one could hurt her, no one could catch her… Just Roman and Neo. Partners in crime. In everything.

Roman was Neo’s whole world, her One Thing…and that was stolen from her.

She didn’t have the power to make that known before. But with Wonderland…she can do anything she wants.

#rwby #rwby v9 #rwby v9 spoilers #neo politan #roman torchwick #JUST SOME THOUGHTS AFTER REWATCHING THAT CLIP OVER N OVER AGAIN #BUT HOLY SHIT YALL #I’m gonna be the most annoying bitch today #y’all gonna see me YALL GONNA SEE ME

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fyodussy · 9 months

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uhm.. tw: Kaeyas spiraling thoughts …???

Ceiling. the same ceiling that taunts him.. one that he’s looked at every morning since the fight with his brother. a ceiling that reminds him that he’ll never be a good person; a vision that reminds him that he’s forever going to carry the burden of his country dying.. and him being one of the few survivors left from it.

His hands come into view, hands that have very light scars from the countless wounds that have landed on them since the fall of his country. scars that were caused by his brother... the brother that he isn’t sure if he still blames himself for the passing of their father.

Hands that are somehow soft and rough at the same time. hands that have been covered in not only his blood… but also that of his family, his friends, his pets, and everyone he’s ever loved and cared for. Including Dilucs.

He forced himself to roll over, ignoring the ceiling, which was tainted with the memories and daydreams he'd had from staring at it.

The window that he looked out of every morning, the window that he sought comfort in because he knew deep down there was no one left for him. He couldn’t understand how he kept pushing, wanting to live as if he didn’t so desperately want to die.

A life that should have been lost but was saved. to do what? suffer? What was the real reason that Kaeya Alberich was still alive? He asked himself every day, What was the reason to keep going? Every morning he prays the sun won’t come out.. but unfortunately, just like yesterday, it does.

He lets out a quiet sigh before pushing himself up and throwing his legs over the bed. the scars on his body that he looks at every day—the physical and emotional ones that he’ll never be able to get rid of.

He pushes off the bed. His messy blue hair, which is seemingly perfect, has knots.. knots that no one knows he has to comb out every morning. knots that will forever haunt him. knots that will forever follow him wherever he walks. knots that will leave and come back when they please.

He doesn’t dare look at himself in the mirror.. Well, what’s left of it. They say breaking a mirror will give you seven years of bad luck but for him? He IS bad luck. He seemed to have been at the center of every horrible occurrence.

He couldn’t even cry.. the one thing he did every night after his country fell. not even when he was forbidden from saying goodbye to the man who had taken him in and given him a home. fed him, loved him, and allowed him to have a sliver of hope. He couldn’t sob for the man who saved him.

Truly, the last time Kaeya cried.. was when he received his vision.

He barely remembers any of it, but he does remember the sight of fire being sent straight to his face, and just like that, it’s gone. The feeling of the cold and the tears in his eyes seemed to freeze. Diluc's shocked yet angered expression confirms that it didn’t go the way he had intended…

And that scared Kaeya.

For the first time, he was scared of his brother.

Could he even call him that? He was disowned after being the reason Crepus Ragnvindr had passed away.. He flinched as the pain in his eye seemed to come back.. He always struggled with it. but now it was even worse than before. causing him to drop his sword and clutched his face, stumbling back as his tears seemed to come back.

And just like that, he pulls his hand away from his eye, still refusing to look into the mirror. trying not to be reminded of his existence as he tries to ignore the memory that has just occurred moments ago.

Promptly leaving his bathroom before walking back into his room. reluctantly putting his clothes on.. He hated his morning routine. It always consisted of being reminded of one or another memory that he tried to bury.

He took a few breaths before stepping out.. realizing today would be the same as yesterday.. tomorrow, and the day after that. knowing that he can’t break the cycle of his day-to-day life. a life he still wishes could have perished with the rest of them in Khaenri'ah..

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thesecretstudentgardener · 8 months

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Okay, so I just finished reading the Shatter me series and have some thoughts.

It was, without a doubt, one of the most memorable reads I’ve had this year. I would like to say that I read the first three books when they were out, before the last were written, and only recently found out, hence the finishing of six books in 2 days.

It was a ride.

1. I understand Aaron Warner’s hype, I really do, but there is so much more to the story than his consistent and devoted love for Juliette/Ella. Personally, I would have loved to see the other kids of the Leaders discuss their pov on the matter. We know they were practically raised together and every time they were re-introduced, they were drawn to each other. Great. I want a scene where the two are still practically toddlers. Did Aaron even care about the other kids, or just her? He says he doesn’t consider the other kids his friends. Is that because he only ever considered Ella his one friend/ or because his history with her as children is so tied up with the other kids, that he doesn’t remember a time when he wanted to be around them? I want to know more about their history, not just the moments of ‘hello, I’m Aaron, you look pretty’, every few years.

2. Adam. He gets a lot of hate for his treatment of Juliette and his act of trying to save James by submitting to his father. I get it. But also, unlike Aaron, who only ever had himself and his heart to protect, Adam has a child who relies on him to be safe and fed and alive. He put his trust in Omega Point and if James hadn’t wanted to help, Adam would have had to walk through the rubble of the underground compound hoping but knowing James hadn’t made it. His one person who needed him to survive almost didn’t because Adam trusted someone besides himself. We see, after that moment, that James becomes his one and only priority. He kicks Juliette out bc Aaron, the person he worked for and was almost killed by, was in his home, near his brother, asking him to trust him. Asking him to trust Juliette. Who was the only reason he had ended up at Omega Point with James. I’d be scared and angry, too. He knew he was most likely giving up his life when he asked Anderson for immunity. But he did it, knowing there was barely even a chance for James to be safe and alive. I can’t hate him, because after the second book, the only thing he cared about was James. He didn’t want to fight and risk he or James dying. If he died, James was in his own. He did what he felt he had to.

3. The other kids. Simply, I just wanted more of them. According to the memories we are given, they were all friends, and were all getting their memories back. They were all victims of their parents. I understand why it had been Emmaline and Ella who were the ones to end it for all. But I wish we had had a moment where the kids, as a group and the further leaders, made the decision to start over. To take back the life and world their parents took from them. Nazeera and Aaron are the only kids that actually, genuinely get to fight back. The others are almost immediately immobilized for later use. It would have been a fitting end for the kids that had no say in their own lives and memories to choose the fate of those who took it from them.

4. I did love that both Ella and Emmaline each got to kill a parent their own way. Ella, through sheer force of strength, and Emma, through force of will. That was the perfect ending for them.

#shatter me #aaron warner #juliette ferrars #ella sommers #Emmaline Sommers #they all deserved to get their revenge

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lookinghalfacorpse · 1 year

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i have a bad habit of dumping au or 'what if THIS happened!' bunnies onto people so i have a dsmp one for you, also its really long i am so sorry

what if cdream, in the back of his mind, always knew that XD had made him? His whole purpose was to bring together and maintain the peace and family like nature of the server. Too whatever lengths it took. The original Dream, the manhunter speedrunner the eight were close too became the server that universe, thats why its call Dream SMP. XD was created by the server to maintain it, XD created this puppet replica of Dream so his friends could live there, their friends could live there and their family and friends.

after the vault, cDream knows hes too damaged to keep fullfilling that purpose. Philza and Techno get the vibe that Dream's given up. They try to help him regain that, but Dream has accepted that as soon as he's in reach of one of XD's anchor points, such as the End Portal, XD will most likely undo him and remake him. A different version of Revival. HE doesn't tell Phil or Techno this at all, why? it doesn't change anything, and they would try make so it did.

Then Punz shows up, in a rare moment that Techno and Phil are gone (syndicate meeting? ranboo's still dead and dream is almost refusing to even try to get better) and takes Dream to that End Portal. Following Dream's instructions to his End. They show up, holding this broken puppet man and XD appears. Neither XD or dream speak, but XD lays their many hands upon dream, like a mother upon her child and says "Sleep, You Have Done More Than Earn It. I Will Take Care of Them All For You Now." and Dream nods and goes to sleep.

And all the Life leaves him, however you want to envision it. Techno will say like cooling corpse on a hospital bed, Niki will say like barely there steam from a fresh loaf rising and twirling away.

And Phil? Phil would say that even though Kristin stood over trying to catch the butterflies and dragonflies that left him, she couldn't. Those little creatures return to the server, along with rumors from the Artic of a Dream who's never known the rest of the SMP, who is exactly the same as the Dream the eight knew, before anyone else joined. Quietly, in the Void with the Dragon, a deity hopes that this time they'll find enough love in their to heal from the posions they fed themselves and the puppet man who had hurt them so much trying to protect them.

like an amnesia arc for only c!dream ?? am i reading that right ?

i’m picturing a dream who’s confused by the scars on his skin, who doesn’t remember losing any fingers, who’s frustrated by his trembling hands and the ache of his shoulders and hips. he’s confused, and lost, but in other ways he’s still very much himself. he’s sharp. quick-witted. he loves animals and insects and has read all of techno’s books about wildlife already. he smiles more. he doesn’t shy away from touch. he has gruesome nightmares about lava and pliers and needles and infinite tnt falling from the sky and he doesn’t know what they mean.

philza would love him. he’d teach him about history. he’d show him how to heal, how to grow crops (not potatoes-- that’s techno’s job), how to cook, how to build. phil already watched sam lose his memories and start a new life, so he’d surely grant dream the same freedom. he’d be protective of this second chance, hiding him from the rest of the server because he Knows that the younger members won’t recognize what a rare and merciful opportunity this is. at first, in the face of dream’s many many questions, he might say that he’s dream’s father or a similar arrangement. in time, he might find a way to tell him the truth.

techno would mourn him. at least at first. all the inside jokes, the memories, the infallible Trust he worked so hard to build has disappeared. losing that would be hard. i do think he’d come to agree with phil, however, that this was probably the best option-- the kid was on death’s door anyway, so at least this way they haven’t lost him completely. he’ll be grateful that punz had the foresight to see that. he’d feel honor-bound to the new dream, determined to protect him, and, of course, to make him laugh. he’s good at that.

niki finds it hard to look at his face and forget who he used to be. it takes her some time. punz feels the same-- there’s an ache in his chest that won’t seem to pass. anyone else who comes to the cabins to investigate is chased away.

dream will wander off on his own, and when he finds the frozen body of a butterfly in the snow, he’ll take it home and preserve it.

#many many people have pointed out that amnesia was the best (and maybe only) way to allow cdream to heal #so doing this with the rest of the server in tact is interesting !!!#i don't think many people would forgive him though...#asks #dreblr

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sapphicsmaximoff · 2 years

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earth-326 (pt.3) - wanda maximoff

a/n: sorry this is so short and took so long, but i’ve started school, so updates will be way less frequent

i ii iii iv

You’d all made it to the shipping yard, and you fought back valiantly. Some began to retreat as you landed before Thor, noticing his dazed state. You could hear him go out on comms, and you were worried. “Thor?” Your eyebrows furrowed as you could feel it.

You began to sweat as you feel under her spell. Your eyes glowed as read as hers, and you took a deep breath, stumbling back. Outside of your mind, Wanda jumped as your wings popped out from your back. The uncoordinated motion rips the back of your shirt open, and she gasps at your beautiful features.

Not your back muscles, but the wings. And she looked into your mind, noticing you were much more frantic. and trying to resist. She began to soothe you with her native tongue. She could see it, Strucker eerily smiling at you as a young child. “You and your pathetic siblings, will never make us proud.”

You began to growl, your vision becoming hotter, the heat beginning to burn. The veins in your neck began to protrude as you burst off of the ground and straight through the top of the ship.

The amount of talking to Tommy hadn’t necessarily been fruitful. When you brought up Wanda, he avoided the subject. Billy loved his mom, he still drew for her, and would tag along while Tommy begged to stay in the Game Room where Yelena and Kate frequented.

Tommy obviously was different, but you couldn’t figure out why. Fortunately, after a week you let it go. Instead you focused on Wanda’s first few minutes without the ventilator. You brought food for the team, but ate upstairs as Wanda was being fed through a straw.

Wanda was enjoying the redo.

Every day Pietro comes to visit. Yesterday, you and Billy came, but strangely no Tommy. She wishes she could ask why, but doesn’t.

It takes her only a few days to move her limbs, and even less to say her first words without coughing. You all seem to be very supportive, and you even stay overnight by yourself just to be with her.

“This is really good.” You mumble. “Can you eat hard stuff?” Wanda chuckles breathily. “Apple sauce isn’t hard food.” She mutters.

“No, I know that, I mean the tacos.”

“You’ve always had strange taste, moya lyubov’” You wanted to argue, but looked at the items on the table with several different tastes. “I do, don’t I?” Wanda giggles, sitting back.

“So you’re retired? We’re retired?” She asks as she settles back. “Yeah. I-I uh…I teach now. I’m a professor at NYU, I teach physics. Which is very ironic considering I break the rules of physics every time I fly, or flew.”

“You don’t fly anymore?”

“No. I-I don’t have a reason to. I promised the boys I’d stop going on missions…after what happened to you of course.” Wanda gulps. “They were horrified when they saw you. I was horrified. I-“ You pause, rubbing your face as tears begin to fall.

“It wasn’t your fault.” She says, remembering these things from this Wanda’s memories. The literal sword being plunged into and ripped from her back. She fell to her death, rolling onto the beach as she recalled.

“You told me you felt like something bad would happen, and I didn’t fucking listen. “One more mission.” my ass.” Wanda sighs, caressing your face with her hand.

“Come on, it’ll be fun to get back in the field, right?” Wanda rolls her eyes, watching you with a smile. “Yeah, maybe for you. But I enjoy retirement, Y/NN.” You scoff, sitting back with an annoyed expression.

“Wanda, I don’t want to go on my own. It’s just one job. One.”

It ended up being much more that that.

You were cloned, and they’d come after you. It got to Wanda first, and hurt her. It destroyed you, and the destruction you’d brought upon afterwards was something she didn’t need to know at all.

Three years of torture because you couldn’t handle being on your own for too long. What a baby. “I was being a child.” A knock from the door pulled you out of your thoughts. You went to stand, but Natasha opened the door.

Your children walked in behind her, and Billy ran to the bed, hugging his mother. Wanda was delighted, but frowned when she noticed Tommy hiding behind his godmother’s leg. “Tommy.” You warned.

The boy wouldn’t move, he wouldn’t look at her. Natasha looked behind her, trying to get the boy off her leg before you got angry like you usually did. “Tommy, say hello to your mother, now.” He still wouldn’t move.

“Thomas!” You yelled, making the boy flinch. You felt a soft but stiff hand on yours, making your your jaw twitch as you stared at your wife. “It’s okay. He’s fine. He doesn’t have to.” Wanda says. Natasha smiles, dragging Tommy with her as she moved towards her friend. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

You scoff, standing up to leave the room. Without regrading either woman, you do leave, slamming the door behind you. “She was very upset. Swore whatever happened to me was her fault, I think what just happened made her a little more upset.” Natasha sighs, simply agreeing with a nod.

“I didn’t mean to make her upset.” A small voice says, making Wanda smile. He still sounded the same. She didn’t know why she would think he’d sound different.

“It’s okay, your mom just needs to be alone.”

Wanda was right about you being upset.

It was a little bit irrational, and Natasha didn’t think Tommy deserved to be iced out due to circumstance. You had let it go, but when you got home, laid them down.

You began to pace, but pause a picture catches your eye. It was you and Wanda taken by Tony, who was in a weird artistic phase. You were somewhere near a lake, she was 4 months pregnant. You remember that weekend like it was yesterday. God, you missed you her so bad.

You were livid that you allowed this to happen, and in turn went downstairs and drank. You swore to Wanda you wouldn’t, but you kept the alcohol hidden in case you needed it.

“I thought you quit.” You jumped, glaring at Natasha. “Jesus Christ, Nat! Why do you do that?”

The redhead shrugs with a smirk. “You need me, Y/NN.” She walks over to you, grabbing the bottle. “Get rest. And maybe don’t be so upset with Tommy tomorrow, he may be a kid, but he has feelings too.”

“Hmm.” You brush past her, not walking to your room upstairs, but over to your living room couch.

Tags:

@nikkinss @justyourwritter69 @lizlil @reddishmei @marvelogic @an-evergreen-rose @lattayhottay16 @mymommawanda

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #marvel #wanda maximoff au #wanda x y/n #wanda x you

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kujakumai · 2 years

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Does Yami Bakura Feed the Body? An Investigation

I’ve seen this idea floating around sometimes that YB doesn’t eat or is starving Bakura or something, and this kind of very specific pointless meta is right up my alley. So let’s take a look, step by step.

School Arc/S0:

Yami Bakura only had the body for the length of the Monster World game that took place in one afternoon, which probably didn’t last more than a few hours. Didn’t really need to feed it.

Duelist Kingdom:

YB had control for 1) in the anime only, a brief shadow game, and in all versions 2) a few minutes during the Paradox Brother’s duel, 3) an outing in the middle of the night to help out Honda, and 4) however long it took to kill Pegasus.

It’s not clear how long any of these lasted, but none of them probably for more than like 2 or at most 3 hours, and they were broken up over the course of a few days. We know Bakura ate while camping between 1 and 2 and again at the castle between 2 and 3.

There was no point during this arc where YB had the body for long enough between meals that vessel maintenance on his behalf was necessary. If Bakura really dug in during Pegasus’s weird villain dinner, that’s probably Pegasus’s fault for putting a bunch of kids on an island for two days with no accommodations, not Yami Bakura’s for not eating.

DDD:

Again, he had it for like, at most a couple hours in the afternoon, didn’t bleed into any meal times. Nothing reasonably expected of him here.

Battle City:

Bakura shows up late to BC because he overslept, so unknown if he had breakfast. The body timeline looks like this:

1) Bakura proper for most of the day? Not clear about time-of-day. At least until afternoon, probably.

2) Yami Bakura takes control long enough to find Marik and the wrong end of a knife

3) Body is unconscious and hospitalized, presumably on fluids but neither of them has enough control to feed it

4) Yami Bakura wakes up around sundown, leaves the hospital, kills Bonz, gets on the blimp, eats a steak dinner, and plays card games until a shadow game wrecks him

5) Ryou Bakura returns to both control of the body and medical unconsciousness

6) Marik uses Anzu to wake up YB again in the middle of the night, who challenges YM to a shadow game to prevent him from killing Rishid

7) YB gets wrecked by a shadow game again, this time the body gets vaporized

8) Day or so later, after YM is defeated, Bakura wakes up in the rubble and returns to the blimp to shove food in his mouth.

Much of this arc is spent in various periods of unconsciousness, mainly due to shadow games and injury. While it’s all definitely Yami Bakura’s fault, they’re distinct from not feeding yourself/your other self. Guilty of stabbing your shared vessel does not mean guilty of starving it.

The longest period of time YB had both control and consciousness long enough that we would expect him to eat was the lengthy evening-to-night period between leaving the hospital and getting defeated by Yugi, during which he...did feed it. Definitely ate a huge steak right there. On screen/panel.

One might also maybe expect him to eat after Marik wakes him up again to fight YM, since it’s the middle of the night and has probably been a few hours since the steak; but Yami Marik was minutes away from murdering Rishid. I wouldn’t have asked him to grab a snack first.

Bakura was probably hungry after he got back from the shadow realm, and probably didn’t get to eat a ton that weekend, but during a lot of it YB wasn’t in a position to eat either, and the one time he was he...literally did go out of his way to eat. Totally fed the flesh vessel. Kaiba’s high-class ribeye even. Due diligence towards shared stomach was accomplished.

Memory World:

Look, I don’t know what the hell the anime is doing but in the manga this one also took place over the course of one random afternoon after school, between lunch and dinner. He sort of expected it to end with him destroying the world and killing every human being on earth, after which keeping Bakura fed would be moot. Also, no one should ever expect the dungeonmaster to bring the snacks, that’s definitely a player responsibility.

In Conclusion:

There’s no evidence Yami Bakura neglects to feed the body when he has it or that Bakura is starved as a result of his possession. YB doesn’t usually take the body for long enough that making sure it gets fed is an issue, and we have direct evidence that when he does, he goes out of his way to feed it dinner. The defense rests, your honor.

#yeah this was long enough to require a readmore #i am nothing if not THOROUGH in my cartoon analysis :T #meta

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breannasfluff · 1 year

Text

Art by @lvnamuraart! For @encantobigbang

Then

It starts with Julieta.

At least, when the triplets are pulled in front of an irate Alma, that’s who Bruno blames. Julieta vehemently denies it and points back at Bruno.

Alma takes this to mean it’s Pepa’s fault. Julieta is too good-natured to cause trouble, and Bruno is too withdrawn to partake in antics.

Pepa is tasked with cleaning up the mess and neither sibling offers to help.

The truth, though, lies somewhere in the middle.

“I’m going to make you drink this coffee and then you will barf!” Julieta chases Bruno, holding a spoon in one hand and a full cup of coffee in the other. It sloshes with the motion and soaks her skirt, but she’s too bent on retribution to notice.

Bruno, for his part, is scrambling around the kitchen table, sans ruana for once. “You should have seen your face when you took a sip!”

“Buttermilk!” Julieta howls. “How’d you even get the cream to curdle that fast?”

Bruno stops short and spins around. Julieta nearly slips on the tiles as she comes to an abrupt halt. “I told Pepa to look at the milk,” he says slyly.

Pepa, who leans in the doorway to watch, enters the fray with a clap of thunder. “I’ll make you drink the bottle after Juli’s done with you!”

Faced with two enraged siblings, Bruno makes the tactical decision to retreat.

Unfortunately, Pepa’s legs are longer and she blocks his exit at the door.

“It’s just a little prank,” he wheedles. “Anyway, Juli put double peppers in my soup last time and Mamá thought I was sick because my eyes watered so much!”

Julieta snorts at the memory. “She made me feed you more soup to heal you. It was great.”

“It wasn’t great, it was painful!”

“I only fed you double peppers because you nicked the roll I saved for a snack earlier!”

“But that wasn’t me!”

They turn to Pepa, who senses the shift in mood and starts shuffling backward from her doorway.

“Pepa.” Julieta’s voice is calm, but the grip on her spoon threatens to break the wood. “Did you eat my roll?”

“Which…roll?” Pepa tries going for innocence and fails.

“The roll on the windowsill.”

She squints. “Okay, I might have been walking by the window and Casita just happened to bump the lintel and a roll fell right into my hands! What was I supposed to do?”

“So, it’s Casita’s fault?” Bruno breaks into the growing tension. He lounges against the kitchen table, free from the earlier wrath.

Pepa shoots him a dirty look. If she throws Casita into the fire she’ll get cold showers for a week. “Well…maybe I asked Casita…for a snack…and got Julieta’s roll. But only because my lunch was replaced with a drawing of a sandwich! Who does that?”

Julieta points at Bruno immediately. “You know my drawing sucks.”

“You asked me to draw it!”

She gasps, wheeling on him. “You traitor! You swore you’d take the secret to your grave!”

Bruno bolts, but Julieta doesn’t go for him. Instead, she grabs a bowl off the counter and dips her hand inside. It comes out full of white powder. “Take that, you rotten mangy brother!” She throws it, dousing Bruno in flour.

After a moment of spluttering and wiping his face, he spins back. “You can’t throw flour on me!”

“Don’t point! Mamá says it’s very rude!”

“Rude is all you deserve!”

“Flour fight!” Pepa slides next to Julieta to group two handfuls, throwing one at Bruno and smacking another into Julieta’s head. Her hair is immediately coated—she’ll look good when she’s old with white hair.

“Don’t take my flour!” Julieta forgoes handfuls and throws the remaining flour in the bowl at Pepa. She shrieks as her front is covered, then dives for Julieta. The bowl clatters to the floor, unnoticed.

Also unnoticed, Bruno sidles out of the fray and scrambles for the doorway, intent on escaping.

He runs face-first into Alma.

#encanto #encanto big bang #pepa madrigal #bruno madrigal #julieta madrigal #mirabel madrigal #camilo madrigal #alma madrigal

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highwaywhump · 1 year

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A sickfic because I’m weak

This is a series, masterlist here!

Joey has a nasty fever and Aaron doesn’t know what to do. His last resort poses a new problem for him.

This isn’t particularly good but my writing juices are running short. As usual, I’m not a medical professional so just roll with the flow on this one

CW/TW: Fever, fever aches, slight hallucination but like in passing not in detail, talk/description of scars, bruises, and broken bones, pet whumpee/conditioned whumpee. Tell me if I missed any!

Joey knew what pain was. He wasn’t trained for it, but over the months he’d learned to expect it, to handle it, to get over it. But this… this was nothing like anything he’d ever felt before.

Every single part of his body was aching, right into his bones. Moving hurt. Breathing hurt. Opening his eyes and looking around the room hurt. Thinking hurt.

As a result he lay still as stone, trying to will his muscles to relax.

He was hot too, so hot that his face and back was wet with sweat, but even still he was shivering. The friction the bed sheets created against his skin stung. Was he sick? He couldn’t be, not with how Sir always made sure the heat was on, always fed him, always checked his injuries and gave him the pain pills.

He’d woken up early that morning and since then he had floated between a state of semi-consciousness and total black outs brought on by the extreme fatigue he felt. There were hazy memories of full-body pain in the back of his mind. The stinging end of a leather belt. The inconceivable full body spasm from a shock collar set too high. The white-hot headache brought on by a strap around his neck being pulled. Barrages of hitting and kicking hands and feet. And yet none of it was like this. He wanted to cry, and tears ran silently from his eyes, but there was nothing cathartic about it. He was too weak to even cry properly.

A sharp knife cut through the blissful darkness that finally had overtaken his brain. He winced, and winced again, because wincing hurt.

It was the phone that Sir had given to him, ringing. Joey was still reserved towards it. Holding it in his hand and feeling the weight of it felt familiar, but distant, like he had been used to holding one in a previous life. And it was the matter of not being able to read, too. Sir’s contact was saved with two little picture icons, a mild smiley face and a cat.

So you know it’s me who’s calling, Sir had said. Smiley face because I’m always happy to talk to you. And Dolly’s there too.

Joey sucked in a breath and fought his own body screaming at him to stay still so that he could reach out and grasp the phone from the bedside table. Just stretching his arm out was a battle against himself. At last he could feel the slick glass and metal thing between his fingers. It felt like pulling on a boulder as he retrieved his arm, fingers spasmodically holding on.

He glanced at its bright screen and immediately regretted it when a sharp pain shot up between his eyes. Still, he managed to register the smiley face and the cat - as if anyone else had this number - and clicked the green button, pushing the phone against his ear. He produced a hoarse sound he hoped resembled “Good morning, Sir,” and suppressed a cough right after, the muscles in his chest constricting painfully.

“Afternoon, more like,” Sir answered, sounding chipper as always.

Joey licked his chapped lips. It took more time and effort than he thought it would. “Yes, Sir,” he finally muttered.

“You okay, Joey?” Sir asked, his voice turning concerned. “You don’t sound too good.”

Joey knit his brows together, which didn’t help his headache. He didn’t want Sir to worry. He was sure he could sleep this off, whatever this was, before Sir got off work and went home. If his body could just decide whether it was too hot or too cold, and if the pain in his muscles could pull back a little bit, and maybe if he’d had a glass of water for his dry throat…

“Joey? Please answer me. Are you okay?”

Joey blinked. He’d taken too long to answer.

“I-” he started, not sure what he wanted to say. He wasn’t okay, far from it, but he much less wanted to bother Sir.

“Joey-”

“No,” he whispered. He didn’t mean to break Sir off, that was practically a mortal sin, but the word had just slipped out of him.

“No, you’re not okay?” Sir asked to clarify. His voice was serious.

Joey nodded, winced, and then remembered that Sir couldn’t see him. “‘m not okay,” he whispered hoarsely. One part of him couldn’t believe his own insolence, the other part was somehow grateful he crossed the line.

“Okay, Joey. Thank you for telling me. I’ll come home.”

“No, no, d-don’t-” he started, and he wanted to add don’t inconvenience yourself for me, but the words jumbled together in his cotton dry mouth.

“You’re in bed, I hope? Please stay there. I’ll be home in 30 minutes.”

Joey realized he couldn’t say anything to stop Sir from interrupting his important work just to come home to him. “Okay, Sir,” he whimpered instead. And deep inside, he was happy that he wouldn’t be alone in this horrible pain anymore.

Aaron lightly knocked on the door to Joey’s bedroom. Nobody answered. “Joey?” he ventured softly as he carefully pushed the door open.

The room was mostly dark, only lit up by a strip of sunlight shining through the half-closed curtains. The bed was illuminated by a golden glow that highlighted the ruffled sheets, the bunched up pillows, and the curled up shape with a mop of dark hair that made up Aarons ward.

He looked fast asleep, maybe dreaming. His skin was paler than before, if that was even possible, and covered with a light film of sweat. His forehead and dark brows furrowed and his lips twitched slightly like he was about to say something. Aaron didn’t have to feel his forehead to make a diagnosis, but did so anyway. His skin was scorching hot to the touch.

“Hey, Joey,” he said softly and sat down on the edge of the bed. He carefully took his hand, intending to wake him slowly, but the boy whimpered and grasped at Aaron’s hand like his life depended on it. And maybe it did, in his mind.

“I should have checked on you before I left for work,” he muttered as he took Joey’s frail, clammy hand in both of his and held it in his lap. The barcode tattoo on his wrist stood out like ugly pavement shining through snow, surrounded by little, circular scars. Aaron hid it with his fingers, refocusing his gaze on Joey’s face. “How are you feeling, Joey?”

“Hurts,” the boy whimpered miserably, his eyes still tightly closed. Aaron reminded himself to close the curtains after.

“What hurts?” he asked, trying to get a look at the boy’s collar bone. It looked like it always had - swollen, bruised and red, but the skin unbroken - but still Aaron worried it somehow had gotten infected and brought up the boy’s temperature.

“Everything,” Joey whispered weakly. His chest moved up and down quickly, but shallowly.

“I think you have a fever, sweetheart,” Aaron said softly, rubbing a circle with his thumb into the back of Joey’s hand. “A pretty high one, at that. Do you think you can get down some water and Tylenol?”

He whimpered again, more urgently this time. Aaron didn’t know whether to interpret it as confirmation or refusal. Still, he gently placed Joey’s hand back where it had lay on the bed and got up to leave. “I’ll go get some.”

Just as he passed through the doorway he heard the weak, hoarse whisper behind him.

“Yes, master.”

Through gritted teeth Aaron told himself it was fever dreams, hallucinations, some awful trick the boy’s imagination had played him and went downstairs to find the medicine cabinet.

Aaron called in sick the next day and spent the long hours hovering near Joey’s room.

At noon he had read every single health blog he could find and all of them had different advice on what to do. Cool him down, heat him up, let him sweat it out - they only agreed on rest and hydration. So Aaron did exactly that; Stopped by his room every hour or so to hold a glass of water to his chapped lips, otherwise leaving him alone as best he could.

As he sat on the floor in the hall outside Joey’s room, Dolly neatly perched beside him, he hoped the fever would go away on its own. Still, at the back of his mind, he churned over who he’d call if it didn’t break soon.

A regular hospital wouldn’t take him in unless he could somehow convince them he was a brother or nephew or family friend. It was a challenge Aaron could pull off easily, but Joey was in no condition to lie like that. And it was the issue of his injuries, the broken bones and bruises, the tattoo… any self respecting nurse would call the police the second they stepped foot inside the door, no matter how convincing the brother-act was.

They had clinics for pets, but he didn’t trust them if the treatment Joey had gotten at the shelter was anything to go by. He went as far as researching high-end private options, which he suspected would be more lenient with the painkillers and the like, but promptly crossed out the window when he came to the Guidelines-part of the page.

All pets - patients and visiting - must be collared and leashed at all times. First-time patients at our clinic must be muzzled during the entirety of their stay. No patients are entitled to time outside unless permitted by one of our medical professionals. And the list went on.

Aaron shut his laptop and sighed. Dolly chirped.

“Yeah?” he muttered, reaching out and scratching her behind the ear. “You think Simmons would take this on?”

She purred loudly in reply.

He wasn’t entirely out of options yet, it was just that it wasn’t that tempting to risk any of his clients’ loyalty or his own reputation. But Simmons seemed like the most likely to not hang up and sever all personal and professional ties immediately.

“Can’t hurt to try,” Aaron muttered as he pulled out his phone, one hand still scratching Dolly’s ears.

As it turned out, Simmons didn’t mind at all.

When speaking with him on the phone, Aaron felt a little foolish, making all this fuss over just a fever. But it was a high one, and Joey’s poor body already had enough to deal with.

“You should know, he is, officially, a pet. A rescue, of sorts. I don’t- I don’t support it. But he needed help, and now he’s sick.” Aaron’s confession came quickly. Simmons wasn’t the type to dwell over things. He was a man of facts - yes or no, and nothing in between.

“I never much liked that pet industry anyways. I’ll come by this evening,” he said, matter of factly, after a short pause. Aaron thanked him as heartfelt as he could while still trying to sound professional.

Simmons was a small man, with a great mind and great abilities - and great properties, which Aaron regularly helped valuate. Simmons didn’t owe him anything, and still, here he was, patiently waiting for the thermometer in Joey’s mouth to beep.

He hadn’t even budged at the sight of the scars and bruises and the blatantly broken collarbone. He just set down his bag and pulled out the instruments he needed, as if sick, battered men was something he saw everyday.

Well, he was a doctor. Maybe he did see it everyday.

“No coughing? No vomit?”

Joey, slightly sat up against his pillows, looked over at Aaron with hazy eyes. He was looking for permission. Aaron nodded, trying to smooth out the wrinkle that had made itself at home between his eyebrows since yesterday.

“No, sir,” he whispered around the thermometer, looking back up at the doctor.

“Okay.” The thermometer beeped. The doctor gently picked it out of his mouth and read it off. “102.8. It’s not dangerously high, but I don’t want it any higher.” He turned to his bag again to find something else, talking as he went. “You should be just fine, Joey, but I want Murphy here to check your fever three times a day. I can give you something to try and take it down,” he pulled out a packet of pills and placed it on the nightstand. “Thrice a day, with food.”

“No antibiotics?” Aaron ventured. He was sitting on the other side of Joey’s bed, holding his frail hand in both of his. The younger man was almost out of it, eyes glazed over, but trying his hardest to look attentive for the doctor. Aaron rubbed circles into the back of his hand with his thumb. He felt so helpless, unable to do anything but watch as his ward tried to sweat it out.

Simmons shook his head. “Not unless it’s a bacterial infection.”

“So it’s not an infection?”

Simmons shut his bag. “Hard to say. No open wounds, right?” Aaron shook his head. Simmons nodded. “No numbness, no stomach aches, no rashes. There are no clear answers here. He could be fighting off a cold and his body is just…” he made a vague gesture with his hand, trying to formulate it in layman’s terms. “... overreacting. Judging from, well, his general condition, he’s not had an easy go of it for a while. It will take a little while for his body to function normally again after such a…” he paused, eyeing the bruises that hadn’t faded entirely from the pale skin just yet, and the many scars littering the younger man’s wrists. The long, thin lines licking up his sides from his back, evidence of something long and flexible hitting him with immense power, over and over again. The red chafing skin around his neck that marked where a collar had once been buckled, and below it, the ugly, red and bruised splatch of skin covering his abused collar bone.

“Trauma,” Aaron continued for him.

“Yes. A trauma. That is the word for it.” Simmons nodded and got up. “There is really nothing more I can do for him. Call me if the fever gets any higher, if he develops a rash anywhere, or neck pain, or stomach aches. Make sure he stays hydrated, and sleeps.”

Aaron turned to Joey again. His eyes had slid shut, exhausted only from this little encounter. His poor boy. He pulled the blanket up to cover him properly again, all the way up to his chin, tucking it in as he went. Joey whimpered and pressed his cheek into Aaron’s hand.

“You can sleep now, sweetheart,” he muttered softly, gently rubbing his cheekbone, lulling him to sleep. His breathing slowly evened out.

“Has this ankle been broken recently?” Simmons asked abruptly.

“What?” Aaron asked, turning to look.

The doctor was at the foot of the bed, studying Joey’s left ankle, the one he’d been limping around on all this time. Aaron had caused the blanket to slide up and now the doctor pushed it up further.

“This ankle. It’s healed wrong.” He picked the foot up sliding his fingers over a visible bump on the outside where bone was protruding, manipulating the joint this way and that. Aaron glanced up at Joey’s face to gauge his reaction, but he seemed to be sound asleep. Tylenol for the fever in addition to his usual painkillers probably knocked him out cold.

“Whoever set it should have their license revoked. This is horrible work,” Simmons muttered and gently laid the foot down again.

“Nothing to revoke yet, I’m afraid,” Aaron said dryly. Simmons looked up. “What? Murphy, who set this?”

“I’m not sure it was ever set,” Aaron said honestly. “The doctor at the shelter said it was sprained-”

“Sprained-!” Simmons exclaimed, at a loss for words.

“So it’s not sprained?” Aaron ventured, and the doctor almost laughed. “Clearly, it is not sprained!” he said and pointed to the bump on the outside of the ankle. “I suppose this happened not too long ago? This is the beginning of a malunion of the malleolus. If it isn’t set properly, and soon, he will experience pain when walking for the rest of his life.”

Aaron didn’t know what to say. Part of him wasn’t surprised at all that Mike had no idea what he was doing and had no business being the medical supervisor of a pet shelter. Another part was already trying to figure out a way to fix it. No pet clinic, that much was certain. Maybe, when Joey was finished with this fever, he could somehow take him to be treated at a hospital…

“Listen, Murphy,” Simmons said, pulling him out of his thoughts, as he picked up his bag and exited the room, Aaron following. “I know an orthopedic surgeon who might be willing to take it on. The ankle and that nasty clavicle. Good woman, shares my - our - beliefs, as far as I know. I’ll send you her contact info. Alright?”

“What-” Aaron started, as they descended the stairs, but the doctor broke him off.

“Don’t worry about it, Murphy. The important thing is that we get that ankle of yours under control again. I’ll send you an invoice with the supplies and services for today’s visit. We need to do everything above board in this industry, you know.” Simmons flashed a smile and quick wink as he pulled his coat on and opened the door, a surge of cold wind and snow pushing into the house.

Returning the smile was a mere reflex on Aaron’s behalf. “Sure thing, Dr. Simmons,” he said as he stepped out on the porch with him and shook his hand. The doctor got into his car and disappeared down the driveway.

Aaron stood on the porch until a particularly strong gust of wind shook him back to life. His fingertips were cold all the way through, he realized as he stepped back inside and locked the door behind him.

Did he just agree to professional misconduct?

Yes, he thought to himself as he went into the kitchen to prepare a simple meal for Joey to consume along with the medication for his fever.

And was he upset about it?

No, he thought. Fight fire with fire, or something along those lines.

Tags <3

@simplygrimly @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @briars7 @hackles-up @doveotions @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @kixngiggles @firewheeesky @maracujatangerine @nicolepascaline @whumpthisway @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @whumping-snail @pumpkin-spice-whump

#cw fever #cw fever aches #cw hallucinations #cw scars #cw bruises #cw broken bones #pet whump #pet whumpee #caretaker #cw conditioning #cw dehumanization #bbu multiverse #bbu fic #boxboy universe #boxboy

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