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#my mom has a cold so I am taking care of her
make-me-imagine · 2 years
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There might not be much content posted until after Thanksgiving because I am
STRESSED
xx
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klemen-tine · 30 days
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No Prince Charming
(Batfam x Mom!Reader)
Anonymous asked:
Hello, I really like your work.
I saw that you have an open request, so I want to share an idea that has been sitting in my head for a long time.
Reader married Bruce for convenience. (In my head, the reader is a woman, but I'll leave it to your taste) The wedding takes place shortly before the appearance of the first Robin. Bruce and reader have a cold relationship. Reader comes from the wealthy population of Gotham. Therefore, reader is well educated and intelligent. So after a while, when Dick already appears, reader understands what her husband does at night. But reading doesn't say anything about it or hint at it. The reader doesn't want to get involved in any of this, it scares her. And although the reader is planning a divorce, she takes care of all the members of her new family. And although she is neglected in the family, the reader becomes a parental figure for children. But the children won't admit it. When Damian appears, the reader doesn't say a word to Bruce. But Damian treats reader very badly. And that becomes the trigger. The reader slips Bruce the divorce papers.(not to mention that they are getting divorced, since Bruce is likely to protest) and when Bruce signs them, he leaves the estate, leaving the divorce papers and the wedding ring on the bed when no one notices. And only then does the family realize what they have done with their neglect of reader. Their yandere trait is waking up in them and now they need to somehow find their reader.
Sorry if it's too much.
And I apologize for the English, I am writing with a translator
Warning: Non-consensual drugging, not descriptive sex. It's just mentioned, no details. Hinted at Dick's trauma with his sidekick.
It was a marriage of convenience. That's all it was. Bruce Wayne knew Y/N L/N since childhood, and while they weren’t close, Y/N was the only one who never treated him any differently after his parents were murdered. Maybe it's because her own father was murdered, and she understood that sometimes the greatest support was to act like nothing changed. 
Fast forward to young adults, Bruce Wayne was now Brucie in public, and Y/N was the unstoppable woman leading her own company by the reins. Bruce had come to her with an offer, one that had her brows raised and painted lips smirking. For Bruce Wayne, this will help solidify his position as someone who was not Batman, and for Y/N it would finally silence the hecklers that gnawed at her heels and bit into her shoulders. 
A frigid marriage, filled with cold greetings, Brucie still entertaining women, Y/N still controlling her company with painted lips, and rumors surrounding them. Despite the coldness, Y/N knew a lie when she saw one. She knows a front when she comes face to face with one, and it is why when she saw Batman in the hallways of Wayne manor, staring at her in shock and apprehension, she rolled her eyes and continued to sip her wine as she made her way back to her office. 
“Please don’t stain the carpet. Alfred just shampooed them.” They never brought it up again. Bruce was no Prince Charming, despite the front he put on for strangers. There were no whispered promises, no flowers, no gifts, nothing but ‘hellos’ and ‘goodbyes.’ 
Then, along came Richard ‘Dick’ Grayson. A child who had blinked up at her with large blue eyes, and Y/N could feel her heart crumble. She had welcomed him with open arms and smiles. She had welcomed all of the Robins in. Her manicured nails getting shorter each time, so she doesn’t have to fear hurting one of them, and her smiles became softer. Y/N had never tried to replace any of their mother’s, but that didn’t mean she didn’t feel like one. 
But it was Bruce they had a closer bond with. Which is why they started following his behavior towards her. Clipped words and rolling of eyes were common, as were the cold shoulders and tense silences. 
“You’re not my mom! So stop asking how school was!” Y/N stared at Jason in shock and curiosity about where that outburst had come from. Alfred was the only one to say anything. A stern, “Master Jason,” and a look that had even Bruce cowering had the young boy apologizing. Y/N ignored the way her heart slowly broke, as the quirky child full of smiles, sass, and who loved classics, turned his back on her. 
As if she wasn’t the one to introduce those books to him. 
Y/N doesn’t blame them for their cold behavior towards her. She doesn’t blame Dick’s disregard, Jason’s hurtful words, Tim’s cynical looks, Steph’s taunts, and Damian’s heated actions.  
Y/N had cried at Jason’s funeral, she helped Bruce fight for custody for Tim, she had consoled Dick after some of his own traumatic experiences, and she sat there and listened as Damian compared her and Talia. Talia, of all people. She had met the woman once, and Y/N had nodded at her. Y/N never judged Bruce for sleeping with the woman. Hell, Y/N would have too.  Y/N can recall the day Damian came to their manor, and the short look Dick had given her when she and the child made eye contact. 
Y/N doesn’t know if it was a look of concern or mockery, but she knows he did look. 
She was there for Richard when his trauma with his sidekick happened. He may have never told her, but Y/N is a woman. A woman who has known people that have suffered the same way Dick has. That are still suffering like he is. 
“I’m sorry Richard.” 
“What do you even know?! You know nothing! Absolutely nothing so just butt out!” Dick glared at her with blue eyes that had put the arctic water to shame. Y/N stood there and took it all. She stood proudly with her shoulders back and chin up. 
In public, she was a stoic mother keeping the children in check while Bruce goofed off. She was the woman who failed her children, because she chose to continue running her business. Her very, very, very successful business. A business that had taken her and her mother from the bottom of High Society, to the top 10%. A series of great investments, smart marketing, and pretty words have lined her pockets with money that she could easily retire on. 
Yet, all that money couldn’t save her mother. The woman died of a heart attack, and there was nothing, absolutely nothing Y/N could do besides bury her mother. 
“Bruce please.” 
“I am busy.” 
“I know but Bruce, this is my–” 
“Ask Alfred.” He had turned his back and Y/N was stuck staring at the retreating man with a new feeling of heartbreak. The tabloids ate up that she was alone at her mother’s funeral. A private event that no one was allowed into besides close family and friends. 
When she came back, eyes downcast and shoulders slumped, Damian had picked the time to make his disdain known again, “–and my mother would have never let herself go like that. You look horrid, unbefitting of a Wayne. A disgrace.” 
Blank E/C eyes stared into raging green and she sighed, “Thanks, Damian.” She spared him no glance after that, and she walked towards her bedroom to take a hot shower. It was there, under the hot spray of water that she finally cried. She cried for the last part of family she had, and the years she lost from marrying a man who didn’t even like her enough to attend a godforsaken fucking funeral. She cried for the children she couldn’t even call her own. 
She cried for the life she missed by marrying Bruce fucking Wayne. 
“Honey, are you happy?” 
“Of course Mama.” 
“You never could lie to me sweetie.” Her mother kissed her forehead and looked into E/C eyes with nothing but love, “You’ve worked so hard, sweetie.” That acknowledgement alone had her almost in tears, “But please start working for yourself now.” 
Taking a deep breath, Y/N hopped out of the shower and called her lawyer. Divorce papers were in her hands within 24 hours, and her bags packed in 3. 
She stood next to Bruce, ignoring the scowl on his face as she ‘disrupted’ his work. Y/N kept her face neutral, because if she smiled it would give it all away, and handed him the page he needed to sign. 
For a billionaire and for a vigilante, he sure didn’t read the damn paper. Which is fine. Great even, because now, after being here for over a decade, Y/N is free. She laughed in her room, laughing so hard that it almost tore her throat. Leaving a copy of it on Bruce’s bed once he was gone, she grabbed her suitcase and accidentally ran into Alfred on her way out the door. 
The old man took a look at her clothes, her bags, and her expression before sighing, “Shall I drive you for the last time, Lady Y/N?” Y/N smiled, bitterly at the thought of leaving Alfred, her only solace in this cold mansion. 
“To the airport, please.” The ride was silent, and Y/N didn’t look back as they left the gates of the mansion. It wasn’t until they were halfway there that Y/N spoke up, “My lawyer will call in a few days, just to hash out the details.” 
“Is that so?” 
“There’s nothing I want. No assets, no money, nothing will be taken, I just want a divorce.” She just wants the law to recognize that she is not a Wayne. That she will never be a Wayne. 
“Lady Y/N, perhaps a check for compensation for the emotional strain would be nice?” Y/N laughed, bitterly and sad, “I don’t want his money. I want nothing to do with him anymore.” 
“And the kids?” 
“They don’t need me. They never did. I doubt they will even notice.” Gotham International Airport wasn’t crowded, and that may be because it was 1pm on a Tuesday. Alfred helped her with her bags, and the old man stared at the woman before him. He remembers meeting her for the first time, a confident young woman who had a way with words and was unfairly intelligent. Matching wits and able to speak confidently in a room of people who thought little of her. 
It's good to see some of that coming back. 
Y/N hugged Alfred, “Thank you, Alfred. For everything.” The older man sighed and watched as the woman took her bags and walked away. Not once did she look back and Alfred decided to stay until her form disappeared in the building. He sighed heavily and when got back in the car, he dialed a number he knew by heart. It only took three rings before the voice of the man he raised answered, “Alfred, is everything okay?” 
“Master Bruce, I fear you may have lost something precious, and I do hope you, and the young masters, have a plan to make this up to them.” He hung up afterwards as he merged into traffic, and he hoped his message finally hit something within his son’s dense skull. 
When he returned back to the manor, he began the preparation for making dinner. All was silent throughout the manor, until the door opened and the rush of the footsteps began marching towards him. 
“Master Richard, I urge you to not run.” 
“Bruce told me there was an emergency and to hurry to the manor?” Alfred sighed, “While it is an emergency, it is not one you can fix on your own.” No, this was something for Bruce to fix seeing tha all the problems stemmed from him. 
Dick raised a brow, “What kind of emergency is it?” Alfred pursed her lips, “Miss Y/N Wayne is now Miss Y/N L/N once more.” He turned to look the man he has considered his grandson in the eyes, and he could see the revelation sink in. 
“Y/N divorced Bruce?” Alfred nodded, “The papers have been signed.” 
“Bruce would never sign those papers.” Alfred raised a brow, “They are signed and waiting for him to read.” Dick slowly walked out of the kitchen, “Is she still here?” Alfred turned back to the food and Dick began speed walking towards Y/N’s room. As a child it never occurred to him why they would they never slept together, but as he got older he understood. 
He knocked on her doors, calling her name like he used to as a kid. 
Dick had always understood that Bruce’s and Y/N’s relationship was not one of a couple in love. He also understood that Y/N’s treatment in the manor by the residents of the manor was unfair. Whenever he could, he would correct Damian’s harsh words, but even he himself couldn’t fully bring himself to be all that kind to her. 
He tried. He desperately tried, because he saw all that she did for them behind the scenes. He saw the mistreatment and judging looks others would give her as her ‘husband’ was out fooling around. 
Dick saw the blank look she had given Damian after her mother’s funeral. The one none of them had gone too. 
“What do you mean you didn’t go?” His voice panicked as he talked to Tim, “I didn’t go. I was under the assumption someone else would go.” 
Y/N could have been Gotham’s biggest bitch, but not even then would she have deserved that. What made it worse was that Y/N was not a bitch. She wasn’t cruel, or unkind. She was as much of a philanthropist as Bruce was. Always aiding those whose needed it and desperately trying to make Gotham a better place. 
Dick opened her doors and was greeted with an empty room. Gone were the picture frames, and the closet was empty along with the bathroom. Her prized jewlery, the things she took care of almost obsessively, all of it was gone. 
He could remember beng 9 and sitting next to her as she cleaned one of her sapphire earrings. Thin fingers with long nail held the earring next to him, a scrutinizing look on her face before she would break out into a grin, “As I thought, nothing could ever compare to our Dickie’s sapphire eyes.”
“Holy shit.” 
“What’s going on- why is Y/N’s room empty?” Tim looked throughout the room, and Dick could see the wonder across his younger brother’s face. Right, between all of them, Tim and Y/N had the least amount of time spent together. 
Dick stared at his brother as the image of Y/N smiling at a string of pearls entered his mind. She had explained to him when he asked that pearls, while feminine, also symbolized new beginnings. She had gotten it when Tim’s custody was signed over to the Waynes. 
“She’s gone.” Tim met Dick’s eyes, “Like… taking a vacation gone?” Dick gave a humorless chuckle, “She divorced Bruce, Tim. Y/N is gone.” This must have been what Alfred saw when he broke the news to Dick. The confusion and then realization coming to light in those blue eyes. 
“Bruce would never sign those papers.” Dick had said the same thing, and yet here she was. Gone. As if to emphasize his point, Dick made an exaggerated expression and motioned to the empty room. 
Tim looked around and he could feel a headache forming, “Bruce is gonna be pissed.” Dick groaned, “Fuck Bruce for a second, the only stable-mentally healthy-adult figure that isn’t Alfred is gone, Tim.” The boy didn’t look all that bothered, “Well, if she’s happier then I don’t mind.” 
Of course he doesn’t mind. Why? Because this little stalker most likely knows where she’s going. Tim did a good job hiding it, but Dick was raised by Bruce. He is trained to spot the mciroexpressions of people, and even if they are his own siblings. 
Tim is panicking. The very thought of Y/N leaving had not once occurred to them, and for Tim who loves planning, this was not once ever in the plans. 
Not once. Y/N had been a staple within the manor, and to imagine her not being here was rough. Evenw hen she left for business trips, it was fine because they all knew she was coming back. SHe would come back with souvenirs, handing each of them something that reminhded her of them, before running upstairs to get out of the family’s judgemental line of sight. 
“Fucking hell.” 
++++
Bruce entered the condo with ease. His steps light as he walked through the dark room, noting the all the furniture. There was no Y/N in the living room or kitchen, but when he looked out the balcony door, he could see her back. She was leaning against the edge of the infinity pool, without doubt a hot tub of some sorts because it was too cold to be swimming in a regular pool. 
She didn’t even turn around to look at him, her attention focused on the view of the snowy mountains and raging seas in front of her. Bruce could see the wine bottle left on the side of the pool and the glass that looked like it was finished only a short while ago. When she did turn around, E/C reflected the stars and dimly lit light around the pool, making them shine and sparkle like they were the galaxy.
Bruce isn’t blind. He knows Y/N is an attractive woman who had many people lusting after her even when they were married. Talia even made a note of it, “You should see if she wants to join next time.” He should have known that his clipped response was a sign. 
It was all there, and yet he did everything within his power to ensure that he would not fall in love with her. Falling in love has always been out of the question, and when Y/N came into his life, Bruce made it his mission to do just that. The woman before him had never complained, and she never seemed to fault him for it, but he could tell there was resentment. If he couldn’t have allowed himself to fall in love with her, he could have at least offered her friendship. One that made life more bearable for the both of them, and set a good example for the kids. 
“What are you doing, Bruce?” She didn’t seem shocked that he was here, let alone in her vacation condo. Bruce took off his shirt and pants, stripping down to his boxers before joining her in the hot tub. He had grabbed two glasses of wine before doing so, handing her one and taking a sip from the other. 
 “Is it wrong of me to want to join my wife on her vacation?” 
“Ex-wife. The documents are signed, and besides this is a girl trip.” Bruce re-read those documents and kicked his foot for not fucking reading them when he first signed them. He should have known she was up to something. 
“Y/N, come back to the manor.” He stared into E/C eyes as she took another sip of the wine. Bruce had come with a speech prepared, ready to convince her to come back with him, but it was all lost as he stared and observed the woman in front of him drink delicately from the glass. Y/N L/N has always been a woman of class, even when she was near the bottom of high society. It wasn’t her good looks that landed her in the top 10, possibly even top 5%, and like every classy woman, she was only allowed to regret a few things. Their marriage is one, but leaving is not even an option on the list of things she wants to regret but can’t. 
He knows this. She knows this. 
And yet, Bruce could only focus on how beautiful she looks, and how beautiful she would look sprawled on the silk bed sheets. Y/N has aged like fine wine, looking even more beautifully and worth more and more with each passing year. Aging gracefully and beautifully as the years passed and still catching the attention of others. 
It's a shame his younger self was more into whiskey than wine. 
He wonders how different their relationship would be if he had gotten to know her before and during the early years of their marriage. Without a doubt it would be easier to talk to her. Easier to convince her to come back to a manor that now misses her.
“And why should I?” It’d be easier to answer her with a compelling reason, one that would have her actually debating on whether or not to come back. Bruce reached over and brushed a strand of hair out of her face, and he’s shocked that she even let him do that. She didn’t flinch, nor did she lean into his touch. Y/N stood still as he moved the H/C lock behind her ears. 
“The manor misses you.” He’s never heard her laugh the way she did in that moment. Throwing her head back and exposing unblemished skin to the night air as she laughed, and continued to laugh. Her shoulders shaking from the force and slightly distilling the wine. 
Once she was done, her cheeks were red from the laughter and she was gasping for breath, “Yeah, okay. So Alfred misses me, I’ll make sure to give him a call then.” She turned her back to Bruce and began walking towards the edge of the pool. 
“The boys, girls, and I do too.” Chateau Petra was on his lips and the feeling of cold wine hitting his face and upper chest had him closing his eyes for a second. When he opened them, Y/N’s wine glass was empty and on her face was a hard expression. Cold E/C eyes glaring into his as she pulled herself out of the pool, and grabbed the rest of the wine bottle. 
“Sleep on the couch. You’re going home tomorrow.” Her steps quiet as she stalked into her home and she headed for the bathroom. Bruce sighed, and stared at the night sky with a new look in his eyes, ‘Desperate times call for desperate measures.’ He would like to believe that he is above this. He wants to believe that this was the worst case scenario happening and therefore this needs to happen. 
Has to. The very thought of Y/N being away caused an itch to form under his skin and a burning fire in his chest. A fire he never knew blazed in him until it went out. Now, more aware and protective of it, Bruce found himself craving the warmth in ways that had his mouth foaming and muscles tensing. He looked down at the water and saw the red wine diluting and sprawling throughout the pool water, looking like blood for only a second. 
A smile curled on his lips and he pulled himself out of the pool water, drying himself off before making his way into the shower with his ‘ex-wife.’ They may have never been lovers, but they were two adults living under the same roof. 
So, of course they have had sex. 
Hate sex is the best and worst sex. It is the best because Bruce can go as hard as he wants to and Y/N will love it. It is the worse because hate sex is all Y/N will see this as. Y/N will only see it has hate sex and not for the love Bruce feels for her. She won’t feel it in the way he caresses her skin or in the way he leaves his bite marks on her thighs. All Y/N will see this as, is hate sex. 
Which is fine. If hate sex is what Y/N needs to see this as to work then Bruce will take it. He has time. He has plenty of time to show her how much he cares and loves her. Those divorce papers will be long gone, every single one of those copies non-existent. He loves her. He loves her in the way a cactus loves the sun, or how the stars love the moon. 
Bruce was so enamored by her, that he couldn’t help but to fall deeper. Her soft hands, that have never broken a bone but have broken many hearts, cradling scarred shoulders and sharp cheeks. She didn’t flinch when his own rough hands gripped her’s, bruising and secure, and she didn’t flinch when intense blue eyes met hers. In fact, she smiled, like this was all a joke he was the butt of it. 
It pissed him off that even she could have secrets and inside jokes that he doesn’t know about. As she laid there, her eyes now closed and body relaxed, Bruce pulled out a syringe filled with something that will keep her asleep. Only for a few days. Barbara is already working on getting rid of the divorce papers and the kids were preparing for her return. 
Bruce kissed her forehead, smiling down at his Sleeping Beauty. If need be, the manor will be her castle and the kids her vines covered in thorns. Bruce, in all his daunting and terrifying glory shall be the dragon, keeping her locked within her castle because nowhere was safer than the castle. Only she could keep him calm, and only she could make him feel human. 
Batman was never Prince Charming.
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Not my best work in my opinion... but I still like tbh.
@problematicreblogger
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ragingbookdragon · 4 months
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Price finds her in the equipment room doing a rather meticulous job of cleaning their weapons, but he also notices that the only set she currently has out, is none other than the side-arm and knives owned by their resident Lieutenant.
“Quite rare to see you here on a Friday night,” he says, taking a seat across from her, grabbing an oiled rag to start cleaning with. “Shouldn’t you be going out with Gaz and Soap for drinks?”
She pauses, looks up and then lowers her gaze back to the firing pin she’s cleaning. “Didn’t feel like going out tonight, Captain.”
“Didn’t feel like it or didn’t feel like seeing ‘you know who?’”
“You know?” She asks and he shrugs.
“It’s my job to know everything that happens within the one-four-one.”
“I thought that was Miss Kate’s job?”
Price smiles. “We share responsibility.” He methodically rubs the rag along the parts of the side-arm, his expression and voice becoming rather calm but she feels the air turn a little stern, if almost a fatherly stern. “You’ve been avoiding him.”
She makes a noise in her throat. “I can’t exactly talk to him. Look what happened last time.”
“He feels bad.”
“I’m sure he does,” she retorts, looking at him. “He really hurt my feelings. What am I supposed to do, tell him it’s okay? That we can move on like he didn’t tell me I’m clingy?” She stops, looks down at her hands. “I sound like a fucking child.”
Price hums. “You actually sound like a person who’s had their feelings hurt and you’re not sure how to proceed.” He dips the rag in a big more oil. “I know it doesn’t equate what he’s said to you, but allow me to fill in some blanks you might have on Simon.”
She cocks a brow. “Okay?”
“Simon was the oldest child of two. Abusive dad, terrified mom. Younger brother used to terrorize him too.” He goes back to cleaning the gun parts. “Nine-eleven had Simon enlisting, came back after a lull, kicked his dad out, got his brother sober and even found himself the proud uncle of a nephew named Joseph.”
“Where are they now?” She asks. “Simon’s from Birmingham, right?”
“He is,” he answers, but his face and voice are void of any hope. “But they’re not anymore.”
She blinks, feels the shift in temperature. “They…moved?” She hopes; he meets her gaze, and she knows instantly. “Oh…I…how did it…”
“I don’t want to divulge Simon’s past without his permission, because it’s also his own choice to tell you what happened, but I can tell you that Simon had a personal vendetta against the man and others who hurt his family. And he took care of it.” Price inhales and exhales. “In doing so…Simon sacrificed himself. He made himself—“
“A Ghost,” she finishes, and he nods.
“Simon, when it comes down to what he truly is beneath his cold stoicism, my dear, is simply a very tired and even more broken-hearted man who believes that if he keeps everything and everyone at a distance, then nothing can hurt him.” Price sets the weapon and rag down. “He likes to think he’s incapable of feeling but don’t let his demeanor or words fool you, Simon feels more deeply for the people he loves more than anyone I’ve ever met.”
Something aches in her chest, rising up to close around her throat as she asks, “A man like him…he can still love?”
He smiles half-heartedly. “I’ve seen the man run back through a burning building to pull Gaz out. I’ve seen him run through gunfire, take a bullet to the thigh and keep going to carry Soap.” He nudges her under the table. “I’ve even seen him pull your ass out of even stickier situations. If we viewed Simon how he wanted us to view him, it’d be easy to call him a heartless bastard. But he isn’t as heartless as he wishes he was.”
“That just shows he’s doing his job as our superior officer,” she counters weakly. “He’s doing it because it’s his duty to get his subordinates out.”
“Does it ever just feel like that?”
“…no.”
Price gazes on her like a father to his daughter with her first heartbreak. “What do you feel right now, puffin?”
She purses her lips, looks down at the various weapons on the table before she admits, “I’m still hurt. His words keep replaying in my mind. I’m clingy and I’m always around.” She fiddles with the fraying hem of the rag. “That I’m a bother.”
“Would it make a difference if I told you that I don’t think such things?”
She shrugs.
Price blinks, reaches up and rubs his chin thoughtfully. “You can be very excitable. Sometimes, I think you let it get the better of you and you often forget that others don’t always have the same personality as you.”
“Excitable is the polite way of saying annoying.”
“If I wanted to say you were annoying, I would’ve. You genuinely are a good and wholesome person, my dear. But you have to remember that everyone has a different level of extroversion. Sometimes, we have to tone it down a bit.” He meets her gaze and she knows his is full of honesty. “Simon doesn’t actually hate you. And he probably feels a tad bit of annoyance, but then again, he always does regardless of who it is, because Simon hates anything that makes noise. But I also know that he feels bad for what he did and said to you—and he wants to make it right.”
She takes in his words. “Do I need to engage him first? Extend some olive branch for peace?”
Price rises from the table and smiles, walks around and pats her shoulder. “Nah, let him come to you.”
“You really think he will?”
“I do. He knows what he’s gotta do and he’ll do it because he knows it’s the right thing to do. But he’ll be skittish. He’s like a newborn deer.” He winks. “Let him mull over how he wants to do it. As for you,” he points at her. “You’ve gotta move on from this. Learn from it. And stop ignoring him and avoiding him like you’re a ten year old. Be a grown-up. Act professional and be polite. I will not let this effect the team any longer than it is. Am I understood?”
She swallows thickly and nods. “Yes, sir, Captain Price. I promise.”
Price smiles and pats her again. “Go on. Soap and Gaz headed to Purecraft.”
“But the Lieutenant—”
“Is in the training room working out,” Price waves her off. “Go. Have some fun. Get some drinks, talk to Tweedledee and Tweedledum.”
As she gets up, she pauses and looks at him. “Captain?”
“Hmm?”
“Thank you.”
Price’s eyes crinkle around the edges. “You’re welcome, Puffin.”
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speciouspessimism · 6 months
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hc that once he feels comfortable, neil’s favorite thing is wearing (stealing) his friends’ (the foxes’) clothes. it’s like a physical anchor for him? something undeniable that says “i am loved, i am cared for, i am trusted” and most importantly “i must return”.
- he and andrew basically share clothes…. when it comes to clothing they forget who’s is who’s and accidentally wear each others’ jerseys
- matt’s mom is sentimental and has a lot of matt’s old clothes, and eventually matt brings neil home over a break and lets him thrift in his childhood wardrobe
- nicky gives him old t-shirts from bands he doesn’t listen to anymore and neil wears them as pjs
- kevin is a stylish bisexual in his early twenties so he has looots of nice jewelry of which neil picks a piece or two of to sneak every week, and Kevin lets him under the pretense of teaching neil to dress better
- renee notices that neil has no proper comfortable clothes and will always offer for him to take her sweatpants (they’re… kinda long) “for the night” but they both know she does not expect them back for a few days
- dan and neil have the same shoe size… enough said
- allison will wear a great sweater and later neil will come by to hang out in just a t-shirt and jeans… and then oh nooo he’s sooo cold…. shiver shiver complain… nooo it’s fine..oh my goood are you sure….thank you soooo much allison thank you…. (they do this dance often and no one understands why allison lets him)
- even aaron once gets sweatpants just a couple inches too long and one day neil just finds them on his desk in the dorm, flung over a pile of notes and messing up his study space, but warm and brand new
- not clothes but when neil completes his first full year with the foxes, like to the day, on the calendar one year since he came to south carolina, wymack gives neil the blanket he used when sleeping on the couch in his apartment last summer
all of this makes neil feel safer than he would admit, but they all notice and play this game. if he’s wearing dan’s sneakers… well, he can’t run away with those on, it would just be inconsiderate
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gentrychild · 6 months
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BNHA 407 : AFO is a lying liar who lies
Today is a very sad day because I am about to do something I genuinely dislike: I am about to defend All for One. In order to cope, I shall make fun of him the whole time.
AFO and Yoichi's backstory is finally out, with AFO narrating it, and there are two possibilities: he is either completely lying about it (boring) or he is lying a little about it (very in-character for him) because he is also lying to himself.
Lie number 1: AFO was born evil.
The narrator (AFO, seriously, it's AFO) says things such as "The baby drained the lifeforce of both his mom and his brother.", "It was born an arrogant baby." and such but it really reads at AFO villifying himself to add to his own legend.
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That's what babies do. Children, before they're born, kinda have to take their strength from their mother. That's why pregnant people aren't supposed to do anything taxing.
AFO and Yoichi's mother didn't die because baby AFO drained her like a vampire. She died because she was a homeless woman who had access to nothing and had to go in labor alone.
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Same thing here: during twin birth, a twin is often bigger than the other (well, probably not to extent of Yoichi and AFO, but you get my point).
Lie number 2: AFO, as a demon baby, is shown killing for no reason, just because he can.
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(First slaughter by Baby AFO shown in that chapter.)
There are two things that are strange in this scene (apart from... you know.... a baby murdering people...)
AFO had no reason to go after them because they don't have any quirks to steal.
It makes no sense for someone to attack a group of people with nothing to gain. I doubt that's the kind of behavior you have when you're in survival mode as you're barely surviving in the street.
However, a previous panel points at some context we might be missing.
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The same panel that indicates that those guys don't have a quirk to steal also shows that they are wiling to do some "preventive attack" on a bunch of quirked people who might or might not be those who assaulted a protest group (reminder that in this context, that protest group are protesting the rights for quirked people to exist).
I could be wrong but odds are that they did something to be qualified as a threat to All for One and we are missing the additional context.
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(Second slaughter by Baby AFO shown in that chapter.)
Now, the poor souls who just got absolutely wrecked by a toddler wearing what I suspect to be a garbage bag have quirks, which makes more sense than the previous scene.
However (and thank you for @aimportantdragoncollector for pointing that out to me), we also have this panel.)
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Yoichi is shown with bruises on his face and might be broken teeth.
Probably because those same people AFO is shown killing attacked him.
Lie number 3: AFO never loved Yoichi because he can't love, he just considered that he was his. That's all. Nothing more.
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(Just... Just ignore the rats.)
AFO didn't care about Yoichi so much that the very conscious first act of his life might have been to swim a river upstream while dragging his brother above the surface with what must have been the deathgrip of all deathgrip.
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AFO didn't care about his brother so much that Yoichi was fed and clothed by an AFO who was malnourished enough for his ribs to show and who wore what's basically an improvised toga.
But he just keeps sacrificing what little he has for someone he doesn't care about one bit, that's just his first possession. Nothing more.
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Okay, I am going to be clear: anyone who sees that panel and thinks that it's the proof AFO didn't like his brother... You just outed yourself as an only child.
Siblings punt each other for no reason. (There is a reason why the first recorded murderer was an older sibling.) In this case, the reason was Yoichi throwing a can at him.
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AFO: "You're not inviting me to a fun activity? You're leaving me out, in the cold, unable to partake in brother bonding activity? Oh, vault for Little Brother! Vault for Little Brother for one thousand years!"
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AFO: "Nevermind, we're reading together. All is well, I guess."
Lie number 3: AFO killed the glowing baby for power, because he could, or because the Glowing Baby didn't deserve it
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Still laughing about AFO's flawless reasoning... "Comic books heroes' life suck. Better to be a villain. I already did the whole struggle thing, I want an easy life."
AFO killed the glowing baby because he was jealous. It's as simple as that. The glowing baby was considered the first official quirked individual (even though it's not true), was protected by his family (if I remember correctly, the mother of quirks was his mom) while AFO and Yoichi had no one but each other (EDIT: I was wrong, the Mother of Quirks was Destro's mother. thanks to the people in the tags), and had a ton of people following him (while, for some strange reason, people start running away screaming when AFO shows his quirk... What a mystery...).
The last panel was basically AFO saying "I want to be loved' but not having the frame of reference to even know what love is.
In conclusion...
While AFO is definitely a bad guy and a monster, he didn't begin his existence as one. He just wants people to believe that. Because his pride and his ego can't allow him to admit that he lived a childhood full of horrible trauma where he was a victim abandoned by society (to an even greater extent than the LOV) or he would probably combust out of rage and mortification.
Ergo facto, AFO is a lying liar who lies, especially to himself.
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starry-bi-sky · 3 months
Text
I'm in A Mood™ (stressed) so im going back to my roots of melting two character together into one person. So bruce wayne!danny fenton. Danny Fenton who, for eight years, grew up in a beautiful gothic manor with his mom and dad under the name "Bruce Wayne". Playing piano with his mother, running around the manor with his father.
Then when he's eight it's ripped away from him. There's blood on his hands and pearls pooling at his feet, and both his parents are dead in front of him.
And he gets shipped off to distant relatives "the Fentons" shortly after, Alfred close on his heels because someone needs to take care of him, someone that knows him. Bruce goes to the Fentons for the safety of anonymity. Gotham's press wants to sink its teeth into him.
Danny misses his city even if it took everything from him. There are shadows in his eyes and he's pale as a sheet even beside his distant cousins, and they change his name to "Danny Fenton' because nobody should know that their newest child was illustrious orphan Bruce Wayne.
They call him Bruce behind closed doors. Danny prefers it that way, he clings onto the name -- the one his parents gave him -- like a lifeline. He makes friends with Sam and Tucker. Tucker takes one look at the willowy, morbid little boy standing in the corner like a shade, ghosts in his eyes, and drags him out into the sunlight, and takes him over to Sam.
When Danny is twelve, he's still not over it -- and he's a little obsessed with the Fentons' research, with the morbid. He has books upon books on death, murder, detective work. Anything he can get his hands on. And stars. He loves stars.
Alfred owns the apartment next to them and comes over regularly. Danny clings to him.
When Danny is twelve, he's still quiet, meek, a shy little thing prone to being bullied. Freaky little Fenton with the night in his eyes and too-cold skin even before he put one foot in the grave. in a sleepover in his room with Sam and Tucker, he tells them the truth. They're his friends, he trusts them.
"My name is Bruce." he murmurs, voice quiet as the breeze, always quiet. he's staring at his star-covered sheets.
"Like Bruce Wayne?" Tucker asks, a joking tone in his voice.
Danny smiles a little, lamb-like with insecurity. "I am Bruce Wayne." And he takes them down to the lab, disrupting Maddie and Jack, to prove it. Sam tells them of her own wealth then shortly after. They start calling Danny "Bruce" in private too -- its trust. Thats what it is. It's trust.
Sam goes to media functions and comes back with aching feet and complaints on her tongue -- and Danny soaks it up all like a sponge, splayed across a beanbag chair with Tucker in her room. He's not envious of her, he used to go to events with his parents and they kept him safe from the ugly of Gotham's Elite. For the most part. He's had comments made at him, he doesn't miss them.
Alfred returns to the manor semi-regularly, Danny goes with him. he wanders the hallways and helps Alfred clean, the last thing either of them want is for their home to fall into disrepair. He brings Jazz with him next time, then Tucker, then Sam. They all help him clean, and he shows them his room. The one across from his parents', it feels strange.
When Danny dies when he's fourteen, the first adult he tells is Alfred. He and Jazz go over to his house more often than they stay in the Fentonworks building. At least at Alfred's, the food doesn't come to life. Alfred sits at the kitchen table and weeps when Danny tells him, Jazz is upstairs, and its just the two of them.
Danny's ghost form wears pearls around his wrist and the gloves look stained with some kind of black substance. He looks like a child who died in a lab accident, but he also looks like a child who has shadows dripping off his shoulders, curling at his feet, hanging from his eyes.
because amorphous blob batman has my heart always and danny/bruce will not escape it even in death even if that IS the only reason im giving him Mild BatBlob Vibes...so far
when they go to the manor, alfred helps danny make a pile of stones between Martha and Thomas' graves, nobody but the two of them (and sam and tucker) will know what it means. (not even bruce's children later down the line, not for a long, long time)
danny dives into ghost fighting on shaky feet and not half as witty as he once was in one world. he's skittish, skittering between blasts from shadow to shadow and clumsily making his way through each battle. but helping people lights a fire in him. he still has shadows dripping off his feet but there's a purpose in his eyes.
and god help him, he's going to help people.
#dpxdc#dp x dc#danny fenton is not the ghost king#dp x dc crossover#dpxdc crossover#dpdc#dpxdc prompt#this is just me torturing danny for a little bit because im stressed and i cried for an hour while i was driving so im taking it out on B#thanks for being my little stress ball danny#aha my old middle school habit of frankensteining two characters together is resurfacing again :) yall should've seen my wattpad drafts#in middle school. i had 50 of them and most of them were me combining two characters together to make one person and putting them in one au#my most memorable being skydoesminecraft and harry potter. THAT was a fun worldbuilding experience#do i think that growing up with the fentons would fix bruce/danny completely?? hurm. no. dont kid yallselves jazz is not a licensed#therapist not even at like. nine when she meets danny. she's not helping him through his trauma in the slightest. she's nagging.#she's his sister or sister-like figure before she's his therapist. would he be#*entirely* like canon bruce tho?? no. dannybruce is a mix of the both of them. but this is still the first post of the au and is more so#just me doing the equivalent of popping a stress ball so nothing is smoothed over. mostly im just trying to keep bruce's trauma prominent i#danny's character because he IS Bruce. i dont want him to just be 'danny with bruce's backstory but without any of the ugly bits'.#danny and bruce is used interchangeably because they're the same person but sorry if his personality feels imbalanced i came up with this o#the spot. was going to type more but the stress has left me. for now. watch ur back danny 👀
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stone-stars · 4 months
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happy 6 years of naddpod everyone <3 (alt title: the dragon pussy podcast making me cry for 6 minutes straight)
Transcript:
Mee Maw: That's true, but… there's also somethin' else. Murph: And you see she pushes her cloak to the side, and you see she has black scabs-- Caldwell and Jake: Oh, no! No no no! Moonshine: Oh, Melora! Murph: --and deep crick rot all over her chest and neck.
Marabelle, weakly: Jolene? I-- I didn't realize I was gonna get to-- say I was sorry. Moonshine (pretending to be Jolene): Thank you, of-- of course you're forgiven! I love you so much! You're my big sister!
Melora: You're not cursed. You were born like this.
Hardwon: (desperately) Gemma? Gemma? Gemma wake up. Gemma baby. Hey. Murph: You see she's-- she's-- she's cold and dead. Hardwon: Fuck!
Balnor: I couldn't help them. I can barely swing a sword. Alanis: There's a war coming, and everyone needs to fight. Even old men who don't know how.
Beverly, crying: No, he's-- he's my light. He's my Pelor! He always was! I strayed!
Bev Sr: You tell her the truth, Bev. You tell your mom that I died in the Feywild. Beverly: (crying) You know I'm bad at lying. Bev Sr: It's not a lie, Bev.
Deadeye: Yeah, I know I'm down a hand. And an eye. And a life. But I got a soul, and a family. And I finally know which is worth more.
Deadeye: I hate to think about what woulda happened to me, but maybe more I hate to think about who I still would've been if I had never met you.
Rosa: JV, I can't-- I can't find my lantern. JV: Aw, well look at that? There's a lantern right here. Rosa: Are you sure that's mine? JV: Yeah. Yeah, I'll-- I-- I'm gonna go look for mine.
Hardwon: --interpretation. I-- I-- Moonshine: Hardwon, I really don't want you to want to die, because I want you to live so much and I don't want to be alone in that feeling.
Lydia: Elias, is that you? Hardwon: It's uh-- It's still little Elias. You saved the child, ma.
Lydia: I don't know what I've been these past few years, I don't know what I've been these past few decades. But I want you to know that when I was your mother that... you were wanted.
Murph: Somebody who felt they could never have a child… um, is holding their child. Moonshine: I-- I didn't want to need you, dad, but… now that you're here… it-- it's kinda nice.
Murph: Your father has given you... a strategy guide on how to beat him. Caldwell: I have to look away so that the tears don't ruin the pages.
Beverly: (tearful) I don't want to go. I don't want to go. But I have to. It's my duty. I have to do this. Moonshine: Okay, youngin, I want you to know. I will love you whatever you choose to do. But, here's my two cents: A child has a duty to his father, but a hero has a duty to the world. Now, I've got my opinion of which you are. But it's time for you to decide.
Bev Sr: Thanks, Bev. I always-- I knew I could make the deal, because I knew you'd stop me.
Moonshine: (tearful) I-- I've been wanting to tell you about this for so long, and I just didn't get a chance to. And I don't know if I will, so I just wanted to make sure I told you.
Moonshine, crying harder as she goes on: Paw Paw. You are… You are my best friend. And you are the best part of me. (sobs) And I am so grateful. For-- (sobs) the fact that so much of our lives have been braided together. But… where I'm going, next-- after we beat Thiala, which we will-- you can't come, mmkay? So I just need to make sure that you are taken care of, and I need to make sure that you take care of some people, okay?
Pendergreens: This time, you picked me up. And you were nice to me for no reason.
Pendergreens: If when you come back... if I'm different? Moonshine: Mhm? Pendergreens: Just, remember me as I am now. 'Cause I like who I am when I'm around you.
Death: I will take everything from you-- Hardwon: Quit pointing at people! Death: --until you come with me. Hardwon: Ok-- I'll go! I'll go. Beverly: Hardwon, no! Hardwon: Bring her back, and I'll come. Bring her back.
Lydia: All my life, people told me what I had to be. You don't have to be anything other than what you are.
Lydia: I think you should talk to your friends. Not because you owe them an explanation, but because you deserve to be heard.
Melora: Beverly. Beverly: Yes? Melora: I wish you could grow up in a normal world, but the Gods have not blessed you with a normal life. You are… afflicted with duty. Things thrust upon you far beyond your years.
Melora: The world should have protected you, but you have been asked to protect it. What an honor, what an injustice.
Moonshine: How long do Half-Elves live? Mee Maw: You talkin' bout Hardwon? Moonshine: I mean-- It's on my mind.
Moonshine: I guess, if I'm being honest, I don't know what it's gonna be like to know Bahumia without Hardwon Surefoot. (tearful) And there's a part of me that doesn't want to find out what that feels like.
Moonshine: There is something sour I probably need to swallow, though. It is-- There's people you meet that are once in a timeless body lifetime kinda people, right? Mee Maw: Oh, yeah. Moonshine: Okay. Mee Maw: And you keep 'em with ya. Moonshine: Okay.
Moonshine: (crying) It's okay, Balnor. Like all the most powerful things in this world, I knew I was only borrowing you.
Hardwon: Moonshine, when-- When I left Irondeep, I-- I didn't know where I fit in. And then I met you, and you didn't just let me in. You brought me in, and you thought I was good.
Balnor: I hope that you all get to leave this world with the same comfort that I had: knowing that it's in good hands. I love you. Murph: "Your knight, Balnor."
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suuuupernovaaa · 1 year
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tsngawpay
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tsngawpay [ˈt͡sŋaw.paj] n. tears
Anonymous Request: Can I request an Aonung fic where the reader is a Sully and Aonung teases her like he does the rest of them (despite finding her cute) but she's really sweet and innocent and has the biggest puppy dog eyes so when he says anything mean she immediately looks like a kicked puppy and he ends up backtracking until finally he just gives up being mean because he may be a jerk but he's not a monster. (He even apologizes to kiri because he saw how hurt reader looked at his behavior) And somewhere in there he realizes he has feelings for her and has to man up and confess before a better man than him swoops in and steals her away?
+
Request from @jakesully-sbabygirl: Can we have Aonung with the trope "she fell first but he fell harder"?
"He asked," says the small, annoying man with the tight curls on his head, "if you are a freak?"
Kiri's face falls, and so does my heart. I am far enough away that the men picking on my sister haven't noticed me, but close enough to hear their conversation.
Kiri shakes her head and indignantly replies, "No."
I see Lo'ak approaching, so I jump up before things can escalate.
"Hey!" I holler, and all eyes snap to me. "Leave her alone. You're being mean."
One of the boys reaches out for Kiri's tail, and she pulls it away with a yelp.
"Look, it's the other freak," the first boy says, and I try to stop my lip from quivering, but I'm not entirely successful.
It's hard enough to be away from home, adjusting to an entirely new way of life, without being bullied. It's disappointing to see Aonung here, among these bullies, almost leading them. The first day we arrived on the beach, I'd found him to be so visually striking, with such a lovely smile... to find out he's a jerk has been a real disappointment.
Something about him still draws my eye, though. And now, he's staring back at me, his eyes narrowed and his lips pursed.
"Leave my sisters alone!" Lo'ak says, finally arriving, and Aonung raises his hands in a gesture of surrender.
"You're right," Aonung says after a long, tense pause. "We're going."
He turns on his heel, and his lackies follow him with deeply confused looks on their faces.
I reach out for Kiri's hand, and she takes it, staring at me with concern. Kiri's strength is her connection with Eywa, Lo'ak's is his boldness, Neteyam's is his fierceness in battle, and mine is crying.
Everything makes me cry. My mother says when I was born, I cried for a month straight, and have basically been crying once a day since.
I wish I was bold like Lo'ak, or strong like Neteyam, or even carefree like Tuk, but I am none of those things. I am 'sensitive', and it makes every day harder than it needs to be.
"Are you okay, Y/N?" Lo'ak asks, grabbing my arm. "That was weird, wasn't it?"
"What?" I ask.
"That they just left. Aonung looked so weird."
I shrug. "I don't care how that jerk looked," I reply, but of course, I do care. I care about everything, deeply, and I'm on the verge of tears now.
"Come, sister, lets swim," Kiri says, smiling at me, and I nod and follow along, saved from tears for now.
--
What is it about the oldest Sully sister? Something about the look on her face made Aonung feel... something.
Shame? Guilt? Lust?
Maybe all three.
All he knows is, it wasn't funny anymore, when it looked like she was going to cry. It caused some kind of strange, visceral reaction in him, the thought of her crying. He would have done anything to stop it.
What is this feeling?
--
"He called you a freak?" my father says in that cold, calm tone that means he is really, really angry. It's later that same evening, and all seven of us sit in our mauri pod, eating dinner after a long day of learning.
"Don't, Lo'ak!" I hiss. "They stopped when I asked them to. They're just dumb boys."
Dad sits back, chewing his food and scowling. "You tell me if they pull that again, Y/N, you got it?"
Mom elbows him for using a harsh tone with me, and I roll my eyes.
"It was weird, the way they just... walked away," Kiri adds, passing me some fruit. "Why do you think they did that?"
"Aonung thinks Y/N is cute," Neteyam says with his mouth full, and I gasp.
"Of course he doesn't. He just didn't want you to come and kick his ass."
"Hey," Dad warns, but there's a hint of a smile on his face. He and mom share a glance and a grin, and I look back to Neteyam.
"Aonung is a jerk. I don't know how he and Tsireya could be related."
Neteyam shrugs, but he's smiling too, and I'd like to slap the smile off his face, but I know better than to start a fight with my older brother. He'd win every time.
Later that night, though, the idea of Aonung thinking I'm cute crosses my mind again. As much as I'd like to, I just can't hate the idea.
--
Kiri, Lo'ak and I spend most of the next day with Tsireya and Aonung, practicing the finger talk and learning all we can from them about how to be active members of the clan, and pull our weight.
Tsireya is a quiet, confident teacher, and we've learned so much from her. Especially Lo'ak, who is hopelessly in love with her.
Eventually, Tsireya and Lo'ak swim away to be in a world all their own and as usual, Kiri is nowhere to be found. This leaves Aonung and I perched on a rock alone together, and the tension is palpable.
I can't decide if I want to leave and never speak to him again, or stay with him all day.
There's no denying, I still find him very handsome, but I'm so turned off by his behavior, the way he's treated my family.
"I'm sorry," he says, interrupting my thoughts, "about yesterday."
I raise an eyebrow at him, surprised by what seems to be a very genuine apology. "You are?"
"Yeah. You looked... really hurt. I'm sorry."
"Why would it bother you if you hurt a freak?"
He reaches out, taking my hand into his, and the differences are obvious. Not just the coloring, or the wideness of his hand, or how his large hand engulfs mine, but the biggest difference of all: he has four fingers, and I have five.
"We have grown up hearing about the evil of the sky people, and what they could do to us."
I flex my fingers, but he doesn't let my hand go. "I am Na'vi, as is my mother and my father. I can't help how many fingers I have."
With his free hand, he reaches up, touching the hair above my eyes, which Na'vi don't have. Something about his hand on my face sends chills up my spine.
"I know. I am sorry, truly." He removes his hand from my face, and places it over his heart.
Though everything is screaming at me not to, I believe him, and we smile at each other.
--
Things are different, from that day forward. Though Aonung is still a little arrogant and teases at times, he's never mean. There is no more name calling, or fighting, and things almost feel harmonious.
This is another side of Aonung, and it's hard to reconcile with the jerk he showed himself to be before. He's patient and kind, and he laughs and smiles. I see the man I thought he was that first day on the beach.
The crush I had on him at first, that faded away, has blossomed again.
The day the Tulkun return, we all rush to the water to find them, and as I call for an Ilu outside our pod, Aonung charges up on his ilu, and extends a hand to me.
Without hesitation, swept up in the excitement all around us, I jump on and wrap my arms around his waist. We make a quick turn and dive under water, and I hold on tight. Aonung reaches back as we charge forward, gripping my thigh to keep me from falling off.
The tulkun are the most beautiful sight I've ever seen. Giant, beautiful creatures decorated in the same tattoos that the Metkayina wear. They're diving, turning, and everyone is absolutely overwhelmed with joy.
We surface, and Aonung pats my thigh and points forward, to a specific beast.
"My brother," he says. "I want you to meet him."
I feel such joy and honor in my heart, to be introduced to Aonung's tulkun brother, and I try not to burst into tears on the spot. Instead, I just nod, and we weave forward through the Metkayina reuniting with their brothers and sisters, until we reach Aonung's tulkun.
He tells me his name, how they met, what they like to do together. He shows me his tattoos, and we sit on his giant fin together. It's absolutely astonishing, to be in the presence of a Tulkun. I understand why they are so important to these people.
"This is Y/N," Aonung tells his brother. "She is special to me."
I whip my head around to stare at Aonung. "I am?"
There is a grin on his face, ear to ear. "Very special. I care about you a lot, Y/N."
I furrow my brow and shake my head. "No, Aonung. I'm just... I'm just ridiculous."
He throws his head back laughing, as if he wants to prove my point. "How are you ridiculous?"
"I'm not special! I'm not brave like Lo'ak, or fierce like Neteyam, or smart like Kiri. I'm just..."
"Sensitive," Aonung replies with a shrug. "You're sensitive. You cry a lot. You feel things more deeply than anyone I've ever met. Do you think this is a bad thing?"
I feel the tears in my eyes now, and turn away from Aonung, staring his brother tulkun in the eye as we float gently on his fin.
"Yes," I whisper.
Aonung's arm is around my shoulders, and he reaches out, using two fingers on my chin, turning my face towards him.
"It is not a weakness, to feel deeply. It makes you kind and caring, two areas that I am told I'm severely lacking in. It makes you fine match for me. I've never met anyone like you. I didn't realize it at first, but every day that I spend with you, I care more deeply for you. I See you, Y/N."
There is no holding the tears back now, and I bury my face into the crook of Aonung's neck, crying freely. His tulkun rocks us gently up and down, almost as if to soothe me.
When I'm finally calmed down enough to look up, I meet Aonung's eyes. "I See you, Aonung."
And I do. He's not mean, or unfeeling, or a jerk; he's as soft as I am, under as much pressure as I am, and not sure how to express it.
As beautiful as he is outside, he's even more so inside. I feel elated, joyful, to be given the chance to be with Aonung.
"You know," I say, "we have to tell my dad. If we're going to..."
"I'm going to court you," Aonung says, matter of factly. "I'll tell him. Should we go now?" He makes to hop off the tulkun and I laugh, grabbing his shoulders and pulling him back to me.
"No, lets leave that to another day."
Unexpectedly, he wraps his arms around me, pulling me in for a tight hug, and pressing his lips to the top of my head.
Over Aonung's shoulder, I spot my parents, riding an Ilu together through the happy crowd. My mother lifts her arm, pointing to me, and father turns his head.
His jaw drops.
Another day seems to be today.
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sunny44 · 7 months
Text
All these years (Part 2)
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Ex girlfriend! Reader
Warnings: bad words, fights and maybe more things
Summary: Separated by a disagreement, Charles and Y/n meet again after years apart and all the feelings they had repressed come flooding back.
Previous Chapter | Next Chapter
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It was a long journey to Monaco.
My mother wanted me to stay at home and I really didn't want to, so I just arrived at the hotel I was going to stay at.
"What do you mean there's a problem with my accommodation?"
"I'm sorry Miss Y/l/n but your reservation was canceled two days ago."
"I didn't fucking cancel it."
"I did." I turned and saw my mother standing there. "Come on, Y/n."
"I'm sorry." said the receptionist who agreed and I followed my mother outside. "What's wrong with you? I said I didn't want to stay at your house."
"And I said I don't care what you want or don't want."
"So you called the hotel impersonating me and canceled my reservation? How did you know I'd be staying at this hotel?"
"It was obvious that you'd be staying in the hotel closest to us." I rolled my eyes. "Don't roll your eyes at me, young lady."
"Then stop acting like you're the boss of me."
"But I am."
"No, you're not, the moment I moved out of your house and started supporting myself you lost that right and in case you can't count it's been years."
"Get in the car."
"I'm not going home, I told you."
"And I've told you that none of the other hotels will accept you there, so you either stay at home or sleep on the street. Now get in the car."
"I came by car so I don't need your ride."
I got into the car and slammed the door, driving off as fast as I could.
This was another reason why I hated coming here.
My mother.
Ever since Charles and I split up, she turned into this completely cold person, said I'd ruined everything and that I should have said no to the promotion and stayed here.
But her vision of a woman with the perfect life was to be married to a guy who worked to support his wife and kids.
That's what her mother, my grandmother, taught her, and that's why she's always been like that, so she thought I'd fall for it too.
I got home and after parking I saw my father coming out of the house and he smiled when he saw me.
"Hi my love, I've missed you so much."
"I missed you too, Dad." I hugged him tightly and he kissed my forehead.
"Where's your mom?"
"She’s probably coming, I drove here."
"She said she'd pick you up."
"She did, but I drove from Milan so...”
"You had a fight, didn't you?" I agreed. "Love, you have to make things right with her."
"No, she's the one who has to apologize to me." I looked at him. "Since when is a mother disappointed by her daughter's success?"
"She wasn't disappointed in you."
"Yes, she was and you know it, her dream was for me to marry him, get pregnant and live the life of a madam who doesn't do anything the way she does."
"Darling, your mother was raised like that.”
"So was I, but I took different paths, so it's her fault. We decided our own future and she decided hers and I decided mine." he agrees quietly. "Can you believe she canceled my hotel reservation and even called others so they wouldn't accept me just so I'd stay here?"
"Did you do this Jessica?" He asks and I turn around to see my mother standing there.
"You're barely home and you're already causing friction between me and your father, aren't you?"
"There wouldn't be any friction if you didn't do shit like that."
"Look at the way you talk to me in my house," she says angrily.
"I didn't even want to be here, you brought me here so take the consequences."
I picked up my suitcases and took them to my old room. It was completely different, but since I'd taken most of the things that made up my room, it ended up becoming a guest room.
"Y/n." Knocks on the door and enters. "We are having dinner later at the Leclerc's, okay?"
"I don't think I'm going."
"Why not?"
"Kind of obvious, isn't it?" I say and he laughs.
That's what I liked most about my father, he understood my jokes and ironies and was always in a good mood.
"Well, it's up to you, but Arthur asked me to tell you that if you didn't show up he’d come and pick you up."
"Then he'll have to come." My father laughs and leaves.
tag list: @formulas-bitch @nuggetvirgo @lndonrris @cmleitora @janeholt3 @coffeewhore18 @blueflorals @agentadhd @eviethetheatrefreak @honethatty12 @lec-16 @ariamox @boherahpsody @ssararuffoni @leilani13gc @alldaysdreamers @minmira95 @dessxoxsworld @dessxoxsworld
The names with a line above were because I couldn't tag them
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cameronspecial · 8 months
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Let Me Take Care of You, Angel
Pairing: Frat!Rafe Cameron x Reader
Warnings:  Threatening to Get Someone Fired, Reader being sick
Pronouns: She/Her
Word Count: 0.8K
Summary: Y/N can barely stand but it doesn't stop her from trying to go to class, so Rafe steps up and goes for her.
A/N: This is like a prequel to Let Me Handle It, Angel, but you can read it by itself or in any order.
Masterlist
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Her nose shouldn’t be so stuffy with the amount of liquid dripping down from it right now. The tickle in the back of her throat that won’t go away no matter how many cough drops or tea she drinks is driving her crazy. To top it all off, she is constantly going between being hot and cold, which causes her to turn dizzy as she is taking Rafe’s sweater on and off. She blows her nose again to alleviate some of the build-up, but she still can’t breathe. 
Meanwhile, Rafe is in the kitchen getting her lunch ready. He hopes his mom’s homemade chicken noodle soup has enough broth to counterbalance the too much salt he accidentally put in. The butter bread he lays on the tray is to give her a little more substance and he is about to pour her some freshly squeezed orange juice into her favourite mug. He goes to get the juice to find his frat brother, Topper, about to pour the last of the juice into his own cup. The death glare Rafe sends his best friend stops the other boy. Rafe grabs the glass jug from the boy and pours it into her mug. He brings the tray of food upstairs to find her trying to change into some leggings. She got dizzy trying to put them on standing up so now, she is rolling around his bedroom floor trying to yank her pants up her bloated lower body. Rafe sighs at the sight of her and places the tray on his desk. 
“Stop, please. Let me take care of you, Angel. Please,” he begs, taking off the leggings and putting his sweatpants back on for her. She resists a little, not because she is uncomfortable with his help but because she wants the leggings on, “No, Rafe. I have to go to class. I need to put some clothes on.” He shakes her head at her begging. “No, angel. You can barely stand up, let alone go to class. Please, sit back down and eat something,” he orders, guiding her to sit up against his headboard so she can eat. She refuses, “I have class, Rafe. I need to go. This prof takes attendance for a mark.” “Well, then I’ll go for you. I’ll record the lecture and even take notes for you, angel. Just please, stay here and get some rest,” he offers, starting to get changed into some clothes to head to her class. 
“Rafe, that would never work. The professor knows what I look like and that I’m a girl.”
“Don’t worry about it, my sweet angel. I’ll take care of it. Now, I expect to see all of that food gone by the time I get back, understand?”
——
Rafe sits at the back of the lecture hall with different coloured pens and a pencil before him. He writes the date in her notebook as neatly as possible then switches to a blue pen for the title. One lazy afternoon together, when they first got together, she was studying while he just watched her. He asked her why she liked handwritten notes and why she used different colours. She explained that the handwritten notes are better for her to transcribe when she studies and the different pens help her visualize the notes better. So he is going to try his best to copy her notes how she likes it. 
The clock hits 2 P.M. and Professor Simmons begins the attendance. “Y/N Y/L/N,” he calls out, looking around the front rows for her familiar face. Rafe’s hand darts up, “Present.” The masculine voice causes Professor Simmons to look up from his computer. “You aren’t Ms. Y/L/N,” he questions with an arch brow. 
“No, I am not. But she is currently sick at the moment so I’m filling in. So you can just mark her as here.”
“I don’t know who you are, but this isn’t how this works.”
“Well, allow me to introduce myself. I’m Rafe Cameron. Y/N’s loving boyfriend, but also a Cameron. The same Cameron, whose name is on the business building. One phone call and I can have you fired. Tenure or not. So do we have any problem with me being here for Y/N?”
Rafe holds his phone up about to dial his dad, who would do anything in a heartbeat for Y/N because he thinks she is good for Rafe. The auditorium goes silent as they wait for the professor to answer. Professor Simmons shakes his head and continues on with the list. 
——
The door opening makes Y/N look towards it. Her boyfriend stands at the entrance with a grin on his face and ice cream in his hand. “How did it go?” she barely gets out between coughs, reaching for the pint of ice cream she knows she shouldn’t be eating. Rafe wraps his arm around her and places a kiss on her temple, “Without a problem. How are you feeling, angel?” “That’s good. Thank you for going. And a little better. I haven’t puked since you left,” she tells him, eating another bite of ice cream. He smiles at that fact, “I would do anything for you. I’m so glad you are better. I love you, angel.” 
“I love you too, Rafe.”
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gingiesworld · 8 months
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Obsessions (2/?)
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Wanda Maximoff x Rogers Fem Reader
Warnings: Angst. Smut. Toxic Wanda.
AN: Ok, it seems it may be longer than just two parts :) I am just too invested in this arc between the two of them.
Taglist: @sytoran @ginnsbaker @gb12d @lifespectator
Part 1 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6
18+ MINORS DNI
Y/N had thought she had managed to leave Wanda behind, but Wanda had other plans. She had recieved scholarships from other schools, even Ivy league schools but she chose to go to NYU.
"Why are you doing this Wanda?" Pietro asked as he packed his things before heading out to LA.
"NYU is a great school. It has an amazing drama programme." She feigned as her twin saw right through her.
"If you were going to patch things up with Y/N then I would understand but." He sighed as he stared at his twin. "Y/N has been through a lot, and she never had anyone when she needed them. She never had you."
"Well she is a big girl." Wanda spat before she headed towards his bedroom door.
"What happened to you Wanda?" He questioned, she paused without turning to face him as he continued. "You used to be so selfless, kind and caring, now you're just like every superficial girl who will inevitably be alone." She shook her head as her eyes filled with tears as she slammed his bedroom door shut, heading straight to her own as she watched Y/N from her window.
"I can't believe my baby is leaving me." Peggy smiled as she brought out some fresh homemade lemonade as Y/N worked on the car.
"I know but I need you to promise me you will look after her." Y/N pleaded with her as she took the cold glass. "I can't take her with me because it's pointless with the traffic in New York but I will be getting the train back here every Friday too."
"I will look after her." Peggy told her. "If you want, I can just use your car through the week."
"No." Y/N whispered as she looked at the car, knowing that Peggy would be too hard on the breaks. "Maybe I should just give up on college and get a job."
"No." Peggy told her sternly. "I will warm the engine up everyday, Uncle Bucky will change the oil on the dates you've marked, and you will go to college. Become an Illustrator and make your father proud."
"I miss him." Y/N whispered as Peggy gave her a sad smile.
"He would be so proud of the woman you have become." Peggy cupped her cheek before giving it a pinch making Y/N laugh lightly. But once she heard that Wanda was heading to NYU, she was second guessing going.
"We will have different classes so I most likely won't see her." Y/N reasoned as she and Pietro through the football back and forth. "NYU is a big school and we may be in different dorms too."
"I really admire thr optimism Y/N." He smirked as Y/N shrugged.
"It's either that or don't go at all." She told him. "And my mom wants me to go."
"Well then go. Don't let my sister stop you from following your dreams." He told her with a gentle smile.
"Thanks P." She said sincerely as she caught the ball. "Go long." She told him as she threw the ball, watching as Pietro ran down the field and caught. The two cheered goofily before the collapsed beside each other.
The move to New York was something, the bustling halls of the dorms as Y/N found her own room. Seeing a red head on the other bed, reading a book.
"Hey." Y/N greeted her shyly.
"Hi." She beamed as she sat up. "You must be Y/N. I'm Natasha." The two started to get to know each other as they decorated Y/N's side of the dorm. Not realising that the person she wanted to avoid so much was only behind the wall.
Wanda was setting up her room as a brunette walked in. Smiling softly before she turned to her roommate.
"I'm Wanda." She introduced herself as she held her hand out.
"I'm Maria." She shook Wanda's hand. "I was just grabbing my purse." She turned to Wanda as she reached the door. "Do you want to join my friend and I at this new cafè?"
"Yeah. Let me just grab my coat." Wanda smiled as she put her coat back on. As Wanda was locking their door, Maria greeted her friend just outside.
"This is Y/N. Y/N this is Maria." Nat told her, Wanda soon turned to look at Y/N with a smirk.
"Fuck." Y/N muttered as Nat looked at her. "You know what, I'm actually feeling a little sick right now."
"You should lie down then." Nat told her as Y/N nodded.
"I will." Y/N bid her goodbye to Maria before disappearing inside the room, locking the door behind her.
As the weeks went by, she tried her hardest to avoid Wanda at any cost. Even if it meant waking up earlier and heading to the dining hall for breakfast before she sat outside the art class with her sketchbook and pencils.
As much as she loved to draw comics and sketches, she also loved to do landscapes and even do portraits. It was like a little side hobby.
"That's pretty." Wanda sneered as she leaned over Y/N's shoulder who just stopped her movements. Putting her things away before moving as far from Wanda as possible.
"Why are you following me?" She asked her ex friend who just shrugged.
"It's fun." Wanda smirked as she stepped closer until Y/N was backed up against the wall. "Besides, I haven't stopped thinking about you since prom night. Even as Jarvis was fucking me in the back of his car, I thought of you. Fucking me with your fingers." She held Y/N's hand and moved it to her lips, sucking on her fingers. "Then I would ride that strap I know you have hidden, while you are sucking and biting my nipples."
"Fuck you." Y/N spat as Wanda chuckled, watching as Y/N pushed passed her and headed to her building. Although a part of Wanda felt guilty, but she was too hopped on the adrenaline coursing through her veins to care.
That was the start of Wanda's claws slowly sinking in, even at the parties they were invited to, Wanda would watch Y/N's every move. Watching as she talked to other girls, but the one that urked her was Jean Grey. She was Wanda's rival in theatre and she hated her guts.
The feeling in her stomach grew more and more intense as she watched Jean laugh at something Y/N had said, touching her bicep as Wanda's gaze torn through them. What really got her was when she found the two kissing, well eating each other's face with Jean pressed up against the wall in the hall, so Wanda decided to walk passed and pretend to be drunk and bump into the two.
"What the fuck Wanda?!" Y/N yelled as she tried to wipe the alcohol from her jacket.
"Sorry." Wanda spoke with false sincerity. "I was just heading to the bathroom." With that she walked away as she heard Jean say she was going to find Scott. Soon enough Y/N pushed her into the nearest bathroom and Wanda up against the door.
"Why are you doing this?" Y/N asked her, anger was evident in her eyes and body language.
"No one else should get to kiss you." Wanda spat at her.
"I am not yours Wanda!" Y/N yelled as she wrapped her hand around Wanda's neck, squeezing lightly which caused her to whimper. Clenching her thighs at the simple action. "I was happy when we graduated because I thought I wouldn't need to see you again but you seem to have this obsession over me and I am fucking sick of it!"
"Please." Wanda whispered as she opened her eyes, gazing at Y/N through her eyelashes, her pupils blown with lust and desire. Her core aching with need, a need to be fucked mercilessly by Y/N. "I need it." She gripped Y/N's other hand and led it to between her thighs, sighing as she felt Y/N rub her clothed core. The arousal dripping as she thought of Y/N's fingers ruining her.
"You're pathetic." Y/N growled as she moved her underwear to the side, her lips ghosting Wanda's who moaned as Y/N licked her lips. Her fingers running through Wanda's soaked folds before finding her clit, rubbing circles which soon made Wanda's knees weak.
"I am." Wanda nodded as Y/N pushed two fingers inside of her gaping hole. Thrusting painfully slow as Y/N sighed against her lips. Her own core aching as she touched Wanda. Y/N had had a crush on her when they were friends, even after starting High School, she hated herself because she was still obsessed with the one person who broke her heart without even knowing it.
"Do you know how I have dreamt of this?" Y/N snarled as she went harder, adding another finger as Wanda whimpered as Y/N curled her fingers, finding her g spot with ease. "Four years. Although freshman and sophmore it was just an innocent crush but then you started to date Jarvis." Wanda moaned as Y/N kept her movements steady. "Then I wanted to ruin you. I wanted so bad to fuck you in the back of my car, on your bed and even on the field we used to go when we were younger, just to fuck you under the stars."
"Fuck." Wanda panted. "I need more."
"Tsk." Y/N shook their head no. "I am the one in control." Y/N removed her hands from Wanda before she could even cum. "And you will not cum. Not until I see fit." Y/N gripped Wanda's jaw as she gazed into her eyes. "You will not be the first girl that cums on these finger this year." Y/N ghosted her lips before speaking once more. "You left me when I needed you the most. You made my life hell so now you can suffer." She pulled away to wash her hands as Wanda stood there staring. "You won't be able to cum again, not when you know how my fingers feel, filling up your pussy." Y/N gave her a rough kiss as she pushed her against the wall beside the door, Wanda clenched around nothing at the force of Y/N. Her chest rising rapidly as she looked at herself in the mirror. This obsession can be the best thing or it can completely ruin the two of them, but she knows one things. She will be the first one to cum on Y/N's fingers, face and strap. She will be the first and the last if she has anything to do about it.
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Playing Nurse for the Batfam
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From Injustice Gods Among Us Year 5 #15
Summary: you are a nurse working for Gotham General Hospital. Batman has offered you a job. Will you take it?
Pairing: Slowburn Jason Todd x reader, (maybe a why choose with Dick Grayson as well?? Idk tell me what you guys want)
Warning: Adult language, parental abuse, parental neglect
Word Count: 1.6k
Note: These characters are not my own they belong to DC. The only character that is 'mine' is the reader. I am going to be as nondescript as possible for the reader as well for physical attributes. This is a continuation series; I’m not sure how long it will be. Also for some reason, my replies to comments are not showing up. I’m not ignoring your comments Tumblr won’t let me respond :( But please, please comment I live for it 
Part One, Part Two
Part Three: Skip-Bo and Chess
My mind raced as I went over the contract. Everything seemed too simple, too easy. The only terms and conditions I had to abide by were that I wouldn’t reveal his identity and that I would need to essentially be on call from the hours of 21:00 to 7:00, but roughly 24/7. The pay was a ridiculous amount. The insurance was crazy good. I didn’t realize it was possible to get that much coverage. But this went against everything I have represented in my life. Would I be betraying the people of Gotham, my patients, and my fellow coworkers, by taking this job? Would I be betraying myself and my past history? 
Gotham City: 16 Years Ago 
My father and I stood over my mother’s grave. It was strange. My mom was a woman who breathed life into everything. She never wore a dull color, she danced whenever she could, and she sang horribly and off tune. She wore her hair in two long braids with colorful ribbons. She wore sweet perfume. She wore red lipstick. She wore so many necklaces and bracelets she jingled when she walked. She snorted when she laughed. And now when I looked at her all I saw was dirt and a gravestone. Her colorfulness, her loudness, her laughter, her joy, all of it was gone. I knew I couldn’t cry though. Not in front of Dad. He got so much meaner when I did. Sometimes I wonder what my beautiful, colorful, caring mother saw in this cruel bleak man. But I guess his bitterness was supposed to balance out her sweetness. 
But without her, it felt like I was choking on the disgusting taste of my reality. We were grieving. We had no money. And the debt just seemed to be getting deeper and deeper. I tried selling homemade cookies at school to help out. I raised about 22 dollars. I came home with a smile on my face and handed my father the money. He pocketed it without another word. It was almost worse when he was like this.
It felt like he was a teapot that was brewing and I was just waiting for the wrong thing to set him off. 
Some days when I came home from school he was home. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t look at me. Other days he wasn’t there. I had to scavenge the house for food or walk to the convenience store with what little money I had scurried away. 
It felt like my life had become black and white without my mom. Everything seemed so hopelessly bad. Then one day my dad came home with a smile on his face. My first instinct was to tense my body and avert my gaze. I didn’t know what he was going to do. 
“Sweetie, come with me. I have an idea,” my father said, grabbing my wrist and pulling me out the door with him. 
He drove like a maniac and pulled up towards a seemingly abandoned building. My blood ran cold with anticipation. 
My father practically ripped me out of the car and dragged me inside. Inside there were about twenty men all pretty beat up. All of them looked at me. I picked at my hangnails and looked at my father. 
“Y/n, these gentlemen need to be healed. Be a doll and heal them.” My father’s words were clipped, and my pulse raced. I merely nodded and healed man after man. It became clear to me, even at my young age, that these men were a part of a gang. Who’s? I had no idea. 
That was until a fat man in a tuxedo and a cane walked up to my father. He handed him a bundle of cash, they whispered some hurried words and the grotesque man leaned down towards me.
His short fat finger booped my nose, and the man tilted his head back and laughed at my reaction. I wanted to bite his finger off. I wanted to go home. I wanted my mom. 
For the next two years, my father did business with anyone that could pay him. Our life went from living by the penny to living in luxury. All due to my power. The richest of the rich, politicians, businessmen, criminals, and villains, all used my services. And eventually, they tried to buy me. 
That’s when I decided to run away. Or die trying.
Gotham City: Present Day 
I sat across from Sam, my best friend, and nurse colleague. “What do you think I should do?” She was the only one that I trusted enough to tell everything to. Of course, I left out the whole, ‘My boss would be Batman thing.’ 
“Girl, if you don’t take this job I will kill you,” Sam said, taking a large bite of her pasta. 
“Do you think I’m betraying my younger self? I promised I would never be bought. I would never work for a corrupt man.” 
“Maybe you should discuss with Mr. Wayne, that you would like to remain a nurse part-time. That way you ease your conscious about everything but still live in a fucking MANSION and make BANK, you dummy head. And this way you’re reclaiming your past. You get to choose. You’re not trapped.” 
I mindlessly pushed my food around my plate, lost in thought. “That’s not a terrible idea.” 
“Of course not, I never have bad ideas. Take one more night to think about it. But I think you have your answer.” 
That night I tossed and turned in my bed. I grabbed my phone, the bright screen making me blink. 
[I accept your terms, but I do have a few remediations to the contract. Signed, y/f/n y/l/n.] 
One week later. 
 “How are you taking to your new living situation, Miss y/l/n?” Alfred asked as he expertly julienned an onion. I not as gracefully diced several cloves of garlic across from him. 
I looked up at him, smiling, “I’m still getting used to it, to be honest.” It had become a silent routine over the past week. When I wasn’t working at the hospital, or patching up Batman, I got bored. So, I started helping Alfred with cooking. 
He taught me how to play chess. I taught him how to play Skip-Bo and dominos. I had grown quite fond of the man over the short period. It most definitely was my daddy issues clinging to the first nice man I saw. But Alfred Pennyworth seemed truly kind to me. 
I hadn’t met any other members of Bruce’s family, but supposedly they were all meeting for dinner tonight. For some reason, my pulse spiked at the thought of meeting them. My past gave me anxiety when meeting new people I didn’t know. 
As if reading my thoughts Alfred asked, “How are you feeling about meeting everyone tonight?”
I cut a piece of garlic a bit harshly, “I’m– I’m fine. Do you know if I am to meet them after the dinner or before?”
Alfred’s eyebrows quirked, “What do you mean? You most probably will meet them at dinner. You are attending are you not?”
“I wasn’t sure if I was allowed to eat with the family or not,” I stated, hesitantly. 
I heard a twang of metal as Alfred set down his knife. He gave me his full attention as he said, “Master Wayne may seem abrasive, Miss. But I assure you, he would never have to eat separately unless that is what you wished.” 
Abrasive was one way to put it. He often reminded me of a feral cat when I tried to heal him. He would practically hiss that he was fine. I had to politely remind my employer a few times that this was what I was here for and to let me heal him. 
We cooked in silence for a while, when out of the blue I asked Alfred, “Alfred, are you happy?”
Alfred always holding his poise answered calmly, “Happiness is something that fluctuates in my life, Miss. I will say that knowing that Master Wayne and the rest of the family are in your capable hands is reassuring me as of late. I also have been enjoying your company, no matter how many times you beat me in Skip-Bo.”
I laughed, a true genuine laugh. “Hey, you win every time we play chess!”
Alfred smiled softly, “Miss I have been playing chess since I was five years old. If I lost I think I would have to revoke my Englishmanship.” 
After my laughter died down, another question popped in my head, “What are they like? Mr. Wayne’s family?”
Alfred smiled, “Those children are loud, argumentative, loyal, funny, stubborn, etc. I love those children with everything I am. You will too, Miss y/l/n.”
An unfamiliar sense of warmth bloomed in my chest, “Thank you, Alfred.”
“Thank you, Miss y/l/n.”
As I was getting dressed. I could not pick out what I wanted to wear. Did I want to go casual with a tee shirt and jeans? A bit more formal with a dress? Semi-casual with a skirt and sweater? I decided on the last one, with some tights on underneath. I wanted to make a good impression. It felt like the first day of school. I made my way down the stairs. No one had arrived yet. I took a seat next to Alfred, my leg bouncing. 
Alfred patted my shoulder when we heard the door open, “It will be just fine.” 
The loud oncoming footsteps mimicked my thundering pulse.
415 notes · View notes
navstuffs · 1 year
Text
Emptiness
Pairing: Leon Kennedy x GN!Reader
Summary: You are dead, and Leon wonders why he is still alive.
Warnings: MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH, long one-shot, leon is suicidial, suicide attempt!!, leon is depressive, MAJOR ANGST, abuse of alcohol, some usage of y/n, cigarettes/smoking, leon is a mess, SAD SAD SAD!!!, leon is suffering a lot, lots of pain, NO HAPPINESS!, dates in italic count since reader's death
Author's Note: idk, except i am sorry i like to make the characters i love suffer and share that on the internet? i made my husband read this, and he doesn't care about leon whatsoever, and he ended up upset for him at the end so you can imagine how this goes. i have more happy leon's fanfics, you can check it out here!
PLEASE, PROCEED CAREFULLY, AS THIS FANFIC DESCRIBES SUICIDE, SUICIDE ATTEMPT, DEPRESSION, AND ALCOHOLISM.
If you have been struggling with depression or suicidal thoughts, you are NOT alone! Here is a link for tumblr support for some helpful information, depending in what country you are! Seek help, you are loved, you are strong, you are wanted!
3 months, 27 days, 3 hours, 5 minutes
The first thing Leon notices when he wakes up is that he is cold. He isn't wearing a shirt, and for some reason, the blankets covering his body look dirty with some unknown substance. He groans, throwing the blanket on the floor. He still wears the jeans from last night, has no shirt on, and doesn't smell well.
The second thing he hears is his phone's ringtone. It had to be Chris. Or Claire wondering if he is alive. He sits up, his hand rubbing his face as a way to make the headache less.
The third thing Leon notices is his hand resting in the empty space of the bed. Your empty space on the bed. He gulps because he hasn't touched that part since returning to the house. He raises his hand as if Leon contaminated the area, the last pieces he had of you.
Leon glimpses under your pillow a very familiar black shirt. One of the ones he gave to you. Leon doesn't remember grabbing it last night. He holds it, checking if he got dirty, but the shirt seems clean. Leon takes the shirt to his nose, smelling it. 
His phone rings a second time breaking his trance. He gets up from the bed and sighs when he sees the nightstands filled with beer cans. You would have hated that.
When he finally finds his phone on the bathroom floor, Leon's headache worsens when he sees Chris's name.
"Yeah?"
"Fuck Leon, I was on my way to your house right now. You scared me, man."
"What do you want?" Leon isn't in the mood to talk, especially with Chris.
"Claire told me she went by your house last night, and you weren't there. She says the motorcycle wasn't there. Have you been drinking and driving again?"
Leon rolls his eyes. As if drinking and driving was a big problem for him now.
"Okay, mom, if that is all, then."
"Look," Chris sighs, and there is a long pause before he speaks again. "There is a mission. If you are still interested."
Finally, Leon thinks. He has been begging for one for weeks now, and Chris has always said "no," "next time," or "we shall see" due to his mental health situation.
"Yeah. When?"
"I will send you more details when I have it. Look, Leon, I just don't think you should—"
Leon hangs up without letting Chris finish. He scrolls through his lost calls, mostly all of them being from Chris and Claire. A few from Jill when she was trying to help. It got too much for her as well. Leon scrolls down even longer, finally finding your name.
Almost four months ago. Has it been that long? Two last calls.
As a ritual he repeats every morning, Leon clicks on your name, hearing the call go straight to voice mail. Precisely as he wanted.
Hi, this is Y/N, you tried to reach me, but I can't take your call now! Leave me a voice message, and I will contact you as soon as possible!
Beep.
-x-
 4 months
Jill Valentine is sitting in front of Leon inside the jet. She hasn't looked at him once inside the plane as they are being taken to a contamination site. Her eyes are distant, her form is tense, and Leon maybe thinks that time can't cure it all.
"Preparing to land," They hear in their radio communications. Leon rechecks his gun, wondering without significant interest if any of that would ever end. When he looks up, Jill is observing him.
"You ready for this?" She asks with a mild tone of curiosity in her voice.
You knew Jill longer than you knew Leon, actually. You were her best friend before becoming his lover. Jill had given Leon all the solemn talk of "Don't fuck up with my best friend, or I will kill you." After your passing, Jill had become somewhat like a ghost in his life. She tried, Leon wonders, if not for you, to give him support in the first two weeks, but Leon knew deep down she blamed him.
And she was right.
"Yeah," He answers.
Jill nods. The last time she had seen Leon, he was miserable. With the longest beard Leon has ever had, bloodshot eyes, hair a mess, drunk, and the smell of cigarettes around the house. She told herself she would try for you, but it wasn't easy to see Leon like that. And after she said you would hate it if he smoked inside their house and Leon grunted that you were dead and never coming back, she left without looking twice.
She never understood why Chris and Claire continued. Maybe because they knew him longer than they knew you.
The plane finally lands in a safe space, and they exit. It is in an abandoned industrial area this time, and they might have survivors who live nearby and might need help.
"Do not fuck this up," Jill warns.
"I won't."
-x-
1 month, 1 week, 2 days, and 5 hours
Claire Redfield is knocking on Leon's door. It is way past dinner time, but she brings pizza. From your favorite place. Claire knows he won't have eaten anything since Chris kept telling her Leon is losing weight. Since your death, Claire has tried to help Leon out as much as she could because she knows that is what you would have wanted, to no avail.
"Come on, Leon, I have pizza! I know you haven't eaten today!" She announces.
That's when her sixth sense starts beeping. All house lights are off, which is strange: Leon either left the TV or any light on. Leon didn't like the darkness. Claire tries to open the door but is locked. Leon never locked the door since he was back for this house. With her heart racing, Claire goes to her bag and grabs the reserve key. She shares one with Chris, and they both trade every week. Leon doesn't seem to care, not that he cares about many things lately.
She enters the apartment to complete silence. No sight of him anywhere.
"Leon?" Her voice is distant, as her hands are looking for her gun. Maybe someone invaded and got him? Perhaps something else—?
The air escapes from Claire's lungs when she sees Leon. Hanging from the ceiling.
"Leon!" She screams, running fast to hold his legs. She doesn't know what she is doing, she is calling for help, she is trying to get a chair, she is trying to hold his legs up so he can breathe. Claire doesn't dare to look up.
With one sudden decision, Claire gets her gun and shoots three times at the rope. Leon's body drops, and he is pale as a ghost. She kneels near him, feeling his pulse. There is still one, very light, but there is one.
Without thinking twice, Claire starts CPR, Stayin' Live by Bee Gees, in her head. She knows Leon will hate her for this, but she can't fail this. She would have hated herself, you would have hated her.
"Come on, Leon, come on." She begs desperately as she compresses his chest with all her strength. When Leon finally breathes, a small vigorous one, Claire is sweating on her clothes. She sighs, relieved, sitting down on the floor, drained.
She grabs her bag and finds her phone to call the emergency number, asking for an ambulance. That her friend attempted suicide. She gives them Leon's address, checking for his breathing. When Leon opens his eyes, he is confused. The last thing he remembers is kicking the chair away, the air escaping slowly from his lungs. He looks around, finding Claire's face in his peripheral view. She seems to be crying, her hands on his chest.
His blue eyes find hers, and Leon looks with hatred in her direction for the first time that Claire doesn't recognize him. She feels tears form in the corner of her eyes, and her lips shake, but she holds them back.
"I have called an ambulance," Her voice shakes, and Leon's stare carries so much weight that she must look away.
-x-
1 month, 3 weeks, 8 hours, 2 minutes. 
The hospital door opens, and Leon exits, carrying his duffel bag. After staying confined for almost two weeks, he inhales the fresh air. Those two weeks, instead of helping, just made him feel worse. Much worse. With no alcohol, no cigarettes, nothing, Leon had no way to forget. He woke up and went to sleep with your face on his mind.
Going through what he did wrong. What he could have done right.
He feels the pain sting his soul, thinking about your smile. Fuck, he needed a drink. He needed some sort of dubious mixed-up cocktail. The stronger, the better. When he looks to his left, he sees Chris Redfield standing.
Sighing, he walks toward Chris. Leon knows he won't be able to run away. Chris has a worried stare as he gets closer. To be honest, Leon thought he should have hated after what he did to Claire, but no, Redfield still manages to give him a small smile when Leon gets close.
"Hey."
"Who told you I was going to leave?"
"Mhm, the hospital? You are in my care for the next couple of weeks."
"I am going home." Leon starts to walk away from him, but Chris's arm stops him.
"No, you are not. As I said, you are in my care. And if I need to drag you to my car and make a scene in front of all those people, I will. What do you think?"
Leon hates how Chris can look like you so much regarding his care. Always to drastic measures, you both could say. Pretending to have given up, Leon holds his hands up as a sign of defeat and follows Chris to his car.
"Is...Claire okay?" Leon mutters as Chris starts the car. Leon can see Chris hold the wheel stronger than he should, but the moment passes, and Chris answers.
"She is worried sick about you. She has been...busy, that is all."
Leon knows that is a lie. He had seen Claire on one of the visitations day, and she seemed upset like she had been crying every day since she found him. Leon felt guilty Claire was finding him (he thought someone else would) and was outraged when she saved him. And he ended up lashing out at her. When Claire tried to argue during the visitations that is what you would have wanted, Leon roared that he never wanted to see her again.
To be honest, Leon is relieved. One less person for him to hurt. Chris, well, that one was hard. Leon knows he isn't giving up that easily. Especially after the last thing he said to you was that he would protect him during a mission.
"No, no, Chris, you don't understand, he bikes around without a helmet and thinks that is super cool? I mean, how old is he again? You better keep your eye on him, if I am not around. Got it?" You asked, winking in Leon's direction. He knew you were teasing him, but Chris's tone was serious when he answered.
"Loud and clear."
In the first three weeks after your death, Chris was there. He rummaged through the house, taking everything Leon could use to harm himself. Leon's guns were the first to go, Leon didn't know how he discovered the password, and honestly, he didn't care. He just woke up a day with them gone. Knives? Gone. It was like Chris was baby-proofing the house. 
Leon would have lost much more weight during that time if it wasn't for Chris insisting on him eating. Or hydrate. Warning if he got too weak to take care of himself, Chris would have made sure to strap him to a bed and kept him there against his will.
"There are cigarettes in the glove's compartment," Chris says, cutting his line of thought.
Leon looks at him with suspicion before opening. Chris wasn't lying. There is even a lighter there.
"You smokin' now?" Leon asks out of curiosity.
"No. I bought those for you."
Leon lights up a cigar, opening the window. The rest of the car ride goes silent, and when they finally arrive at Chris's house, he turns off the car, sighing.
"Look, Leon. I am not very good at this, and you know it. You will stay with me as long as you want, but I can't keep you a prisoner in my house."
Leon observes him, and Chris takes the courage to finally say it.
"No one wants you dead, Leon. What happened to Y/N, it wasn't your fault. And you need therapy."
Leon gives a humorless laugh, opening the door of the car.
"You are not bad at this, Chris. You are terrible at this."
-x-
4 months, 1 day, 5 hours
Ada Wong is good at her job. She does what she is paid to do when she needs to do it. No feelings attached, except, well, when Leon Kennedy is involved. It had been like this since the events during Raccoon City.
And then, suddenly, you appeared on his side during the events in Spain. You were something else, for sure. Standing by his side, remaining strong, although that was your first mission, or so Ada heard. And facing up her, determination in your eyes. Ada found you adorable, perfect for Leon. The loyalty, in your eyes, was something she could never demonstrate.
The man in front of her now was just what once was Leon Kennedy, her..."ally" from the other side. Ada had to admit she was shocked when she first saw him, barely recognizing him. Leon had big dark bags under his eyes, not as strong as he once was. And there was...no life in his once vivid blue eyes. Nothing.
"Ada Wong. Doing something for yourself again?" Leon asks, his voice monotone.
Ada was used to his hostility, mistrust, and even anger. But not that complete apathy, a complete lack of emotions. Leon Kennedy was dead, she was confident, and he died when you did.
"You know I don't share my secrets, big boy," She says, her tone the same as always. "But we can always find common ground, as we always do."
Leon nods, and Ada tells herself she shouldn't care, she shouldn't ask. But she has never seen it like this, and this Leon frightens her.
"I have heard about Y/N. My condolences."
Leon's eyes go wide with surprise. He looks at Ada as if she has just arrived from outer space.
"Is this one of your schemes? 'Cause if it is, cut the crap, I am not in the mood."
"It is not. I heard about what happened." Is Ada Wong really showing empathy? Leon blinks, surprised, but he shakes his head. No, it has to be one of her tricks. Since when did Ada start caring about him?
"Shut up, Ada. Do not mention this ever again. We are here for a mission, nothing else, nothing more. Stop pretending you fucking care." Leon's voice is low, and Ada doesn't say anything as she watches him walk in the dark corridor before her. She has known him long enough to know when he is being serious, and she knows he is threatening her life now.
Ada sighs. The Leon Kennedy she once knew, was gone. You left a carcass behind, a damaged man for the rest of his life. Ada still remembers the last thing she said to you, before she disappeared.
"You are truly special. Take care of him."
-x-
1 minute
"Is Mr. Leon Kennedy speaking?"
Leon stops when he answers his phone to a strange voice. 
"Yes? Who is this?"
"Mr. Kennedy, this is from McKenney Hospital. Could we speak with you in just a moment? Are you busy or driving?"
"No. Hospital, you say? What is going on?"
"We just need a moment of your time. Do you know Y/N L/N?"
Leon's heart starts bumping against his chest.
"Yes. What about it?"
"Y/N L/N was involved in a car crash today, sir. At this moment in time, they are doing surgery on them."
"What? No, excuse me, ma'am, this is some mistake."
The gentle voice behind the phone silences as she listens, Leon saying you weren't involved in an accident. It was impossible. You were coming to have dinner with him later, you were going to forgive him, you were going to be back together just fine. When Leon shuts up, the voice speaks again with much more compassion.
"You are tagged as their emergency contact, Mr. Kennedy. How long can you get in here—"
"I just fucking told you, lady, that is impossible, they are coming to have dinner with me, we are supposed to reconnect, and you aren't listening to me!" Leon screams the last part, punching the counter before him and making all the glass bowls in the counter jump. 
The compassionate voice waits to speak again in a much more determined tone.
"Mr. Kennedy, I suggest you come to the hospital, not alone. Come with a friend. We will answer all your questions and concerns when you get here. Just don't come alone."
Leon turns off the call, pissed. How can the lady be so stupid? He told her over and over again you were on your way to his house, your house. Leon had been cooking the whole night, preparing your favorite dinner. After that, he would never let you away from him ever again. He breathes deeply now, trying to ease the tremors on his hands, when he lets his eyes wander off to the TV, a news broadcast about a terrible accident that happened. Some drunk driver caused this accident that involved a with a truck oil tank, and five people were killed. Many injuries reported.
Without thinking twice, Leon grabs his motorcycle's keys.
He doesn't know how he got in one piece in the hospital. Something inside him tells him to call Jill, Claire, Chris, or someone, anyone, but he doesn't. The hospital's entrance is chaotic, with most victims being taken there since it was the closest location.
Leon asks your name to the front receptionist, and they say they are operating you now. The lady points to the waiting room area, where Leon waits. Leon had felt fear many times in his life, but nothing compared to this. He knew you were strong. Stronger than him, actually. You were brave. You were getting out of this.
Because he didn't know how to live without you.
Leon observed families getting good and bad news for what seemed an eternity. The death toll climbed to more two people, a mom crumble in the doctor's arms due to the loss of his son and husband. Leon was praying, begging for some higher force or anything for you to live.
He would never drink again. Leon Kennedy would never let the darkness inside him win and let you go. He would never doubt himself or his ability to love. No, Leon would love you even more intensely than he already did, more than anything in his life.
Leon takes a while to get up when the doctor finally calls his name. He feels sick, his stomach is twisting. He counts nine steps until he gets to the doctor, a lady with scrubs and an indecipherable face.  
"Mr. Kennedy, do you want me to take you to a more private room?"
"Tell me."
The doctor sighs, looking directly into his eyes when she says. 
"We did everything we could, Mr. Kennedy. I am sorry they didn't make it."
No. 
"I am sorry, Mr. Kennedy, I truly am."
No. NO! NO!
"Mr. Kennedy, please, don't, I am sorry. Can I get some help over here? Please, don't do this!"
It takes six or seven security guards to stop Leon from destroying the waiting room or even hurting someone. He is crying, he is begging, he is losing himself. It couldn't be true. It just couldn't. It was unfair: not after everything he had done or everything you went through together. He always told you he needed to die first because Leon knew damn well he couldn't live without you. Leon has a hole in his chest that will never close again. He feels someone pull his sleeve up, a pinching sensation, and Leon falls into darkness. 
929 notes · View notes
blushhingblue · 9 months
Text
Regular Customer
Yandere!Love Quinn x Reader age gap, kidnapping
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As per usual, around half past twelve, the door of Love’s bakery would chime, and in would walk her favorite customer. Love’s face would beam in excitement, a welcoming smile plastered across her face. You slid up to the counter and returned her smile. Before you could mutter a word, she was already making your coffee just the way you liked it.
"How are you, Love?" you inquired.
She stopped facing the coffee machine only for a second to look over her shoulder. Her eyes were longing to admire your face, but she swiftly looked away as you were already looking at her.
"I’m hanging in there. Henry is doing well, though. He’s with my mom since Joe’s at work," she explained.
She wanted you to know every little detail about her life. She figured if you knew everything, you were somehow indirectly part of her personal life itself. She handed you your coffee, and as you tried to hand her money, she shook her head and pushed it away.
"Come on. You have to let me pay at least once."
She shook her head stubbornly, but your hand was stubborn too, not refusing to move. Eventually, realizing she wasn’t going to take it, you shoved it in the tip jar and headed out the door.
"See you tomorrow!" She called out as the door closed.
Her heart was left beating irregularly. The rest of the day, there were mediocre customers, none of whom radiated like you. Whenever you weren’t around, she was desperate for you to be. As she arrived home, she was met with a familiar darkness and cold. A household where love used to be so vibrant and alive was now devoid of anything.
Joe was gone. Love knew he was out preying on some woman, as if he didn’t have a wife at home. When they first moved and Joe started obsessing over Natalie, it hurt, but now she didn’t feel anything towards him except resentment. She headed upstairs to Henry’s room and saw her mother putting him to sleep.
"Thank you. I really appreciate you being here," Love said.
Dottie placed a hand over her heart and said, "Of course, anything for my grandson."
Love was surprised she didn’t get a snarky remark as she walked Dottie out. She checked the time. It read 9:37, and Joe still wasn’t home. Love didn’t really care, but it felt like time went by so slowly when you weren’t near.
She sat on the couch with her head in her hands, thinking about all the things she wanted to do with you. She wants to hold your hands and kiss your sweet lips. She wants to buy a house and grow old with you. That’s when she decided tomorrow was going to be the day she did something about it.
The next day, Love was noticeably nervous while serving customers. Her hands were shaking so rapidly that she even dropped a cupcake. When she had no one to serve, she kept an attentive eye on the clock. It was four in the afternoon. Where were you? She began to feel anxious, like something bad had happened to you. Just as her nerves were beginning to boil over, you walked in.
"Y/N! You’re here!" She practically shouted, her hands slapping down onto the counter in excitement.
"Yeah. Here I am," you said in a questioning tone with an eyebrow raised. "What has you so excited?"
"Just my favorite customer," Love said, already about to go make your regular.
You gently grabbed her by the wrist to stop her. She felt her heartbeat begin to rise as a faint pink blush covered her pale cheeks. Your touch was so light yet had such an effect on her. At this very moment, Love was practically putty in your hands.
"I think it’s a tad bit late for coffee, and you’ve probably been working so hard all day. Why don’t we sit down?"
The light pink hue on her cheeks had grown into a blazing red. She felt as though she was going to pass out. That was until you let go of her wrist. Now that she’s felt your touch, she can’t go back to not having it. You pulled out a chair for her, and she quickly scurried over like a lost puppy.
"Thank you," she muttered.
What was happening? Love was usually so outgoing and boisterous. How had you made her so shy?
"Love, I’ve been thinking," you started, but took a deep breath to release your nerves. "You’re a beautiful, mature woman, and admittedly, I’ve developed some feelings for you."
At this very moment, Love felt her world light up. You were going to be the one she came home to, cuddled to sleep with, and folded laundry with. You were the one. She immediately reached over the table and grabbed your hand, just enjoying the warmth it expelled.
"And that’s why this is so hard,"
Both Love’s smile and mood dropped. She felt your hand loosen from her grasp, though Love didn’t let go.
"You’re 28 and I’m 19. This will never work. Besides, you’re a married woman with a child."
Y/N, we can make it work!" Love cried, practically begging for you to stay with her: "I don’t even love him!"
"I think that's a problem for you to figure out with him. I just wanted to stop by and tell you that this is the last time you'll see me. I want these feelings I have for you to go away, and that can't happen if I'm seeing you every day," you explained.
You tugged your hand out of her tight grip. Love knew she had to think fast. She couldn't let you go, not now and not ever.
"Wait Y/N. Let me at least give you a goodbye gift. How about a box of treats?" Love suggested, seeming much less sad than she did a few moments ago.
You figured that the idea of her giving you a parting gift made her happier and filled her with some sort of closure, so you obliged. As you nodded, she walked over behind the counter, her steps much more buoyant than before. In a large box, she placed a mélange of Danishes, cupcakes, tarts, and just about every other pastry available.
"What do I owe you?" you asked, taking your wallet out of your pocket.
"Nothing, silly. This is a gift." Love giggled childishly and handed you the heavy box of treats.
"Thank you, Love, You've always been so kind to me, and I'm sorry I ended our friendship." You apologized, a sad glint masking your eyes.
"I'm sorry, too,"
"For what?"
Just then, you noticed she only handed the unusually heavy box to you with one hand and had the other positioned behind her back. Before you could connect the dots and save yourself, she took a rolling pill out from behind herself and hit you over the head with it.
When you awoke several hours later, you were lying on a hard floor with a single, thin blanket underneath you. In confusion, you looked up and saw that you were trapped in a glass cage full of baking supplies. That's when everything came rushing back to you. You touched your head and winced as you pressed the gauze.
Although severely panicked, you tried to think rationally and push open the door. But, unfortunately, Love wasn't stupid, and she wouldn't make such a foolish mistake. Next, you tried to open the box that you can only assume Love would give you food and other small necessities through. This time it actually worked, but the opposite side wasn't openable. Lastly, you began to look through the nooks and crannies of the cage, hoping to find a key. Though when you found nothing, you knew it was helpless. You sat back down and pondered your options.
"Speak of the devil," you mumbled under your breath as you saw her peek out from behind a wall.
"Hi sweetheart!"
"Love, where the fuck am I?" you yelled, raising your voice at her for the first time ever.
All Love could do was smile and place her hand on the glass.
"Look, I know this isn't ideal for you, but it's either this or you leave me forever, and I couldn't deal with even the thought of that."
You didn't say anything and only looked at the floor.
"I promise, once I know you won't try to leave me, I'll let you out. Once that happens, we can raise Henry together." She swooned at the idea of becoming a family.
"What about Joe? How could you betray him like this?"
"Don't worry about Joe; he's taken care of, and I didn't betray him. I was once in love with him too, but once he saw the side of me that you're seeing, he didn't reciprocate my feelings anymore. He moved on and began preying on other women. I knew I couldn't win him back, but then you started coming to my bakery, and all the feelings I once felt for him, I began to feel for you," she explained.
"I don't blame him for wanting to leave once he saw this. I want to as well."
Love frowned. "I'll come back when you've adjusted better."
She began to grab her belongings.
"Wait, Love,"
She turned around, expecting an apology or a love proclamation, but that was wishful thinking.
"Do you have anything for me to eat?" You asked.
She scoffed in response and stomped away and up the stairs. You sighed and began to accept your fate.
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sopebubbles · 11 months
Text
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Nine
Master list
Synopsis: in a world where alphas, betas, and omegas live along side modern humans as second class citizens, you've fallen through the cracks of a society that wants to take everything wonderful from you. Luckily a timely encounter with the boys just might save your life.
Chapter summary: encounters with people from your past challenge your future with the pack.
Warnings: people generally being assholes, mentions of blood, car accident
WC: 8.2k
A/N: when i came home and said i wanted to write, beastie said "make it hurt" so lets blame this on her.
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It's been three weeks since the pack left for the new house, leaving Yoongi and Jimin behind to fix some minor repairs on the old house and wait for you. Just this morning, Yoongi had finished patching up a hole in the drywall where Namjoon had once tripped and pushed his hand through just with his own strength. But there was still no sight or scent of you.
Yoongi had just finished making a sandwich when the front door opened and Jin walked in. 
"Aren't you supposed to be at work?" Yoongi grumbled before biting into his lunch.
"I came to see you," Jin replied, almost convincingly casual.
"Why?" The younger man asked with a full mouth.
Jin sighed, he genuinely wanted to be pleasant. This wasn't the first time he had come to the house and wanted to patch things up with Yoongi, but the man wasn't making it easy with his cold behavior. Still, Jin decided it would be best to be upfront so he could have a real conversation with him. "We got an offer on the house this morning."
Yoongi paused mid bite before he continued and chewed without responding.
"I wanted to run it by you," Jin continued.
Yoongi snorted. "What does it have to do with me? It's your house, yours and Hoseok's. The one your parents bought you. I've never been anything but a guest here."
"That's not true, Yoongi. You know it's not. You're an important part of our lives. I know I was selfish, but please give me a chance to show you how sorry I am and how much I love you," Jin begged. "I'll do anything."
Yoongi turned his head away, unable to look Jin in the eyes. "The only thing I want right now isn't something you can give me," he admitted. He wished that he could think of anything other than you, but even patching things up with Jin wasn't something that he could focus on for very long.
"You still haven't seen her?" Jin asked softly. Yoongi shook his head.
"Looks like she really doesn't need me to be her alpha. Hoseok was right."
Jin took a step closer, wishing he could get close enough to comfort his packmate. He'd still think of Yoongi that way no matter what. "I'm certain Hobi didn't mean that. And she doesn't seem to know what she needs, to be honest. She'd be incredibly lucky to have you as an alpha, Yoongi." 
He couldn't respond, too choked up on his own emotions. He knew that Jin was right, because he knew he'd be the best alpha possible to you, but right now he was just a mess. 
"One of the ways my mom has used to get inside my head is telling me that you want to take the pack alpha position from me," Jin admitted. 
Yoongi looked at him with surprised eyes and lifted brows. "When have I ever made you think I wanted to do that?"
Jin shrugged. "You kinda have pack alpha energy. Even my mom noticed it the few times she met you. And ever since we met you've always argued with me. Honestly, since you came to us I've always been a little insecure about it."
Yoongi laughed quietly. "To be completely honest, when I first met you guys I thought maybe I could take the leader position from you. But as soon as I got to know you, I didn't feel like I needed to."
"What changed your mind?"
"The way that you treated Tae after the incident. You were so gentle and caring with him. You never made him feel bad for what happened or shamed him. You just took care of him. And then I knew you would take care of all of us, so that's when I remember falling for you."
Jin frowned. "I'm sorry I didn't live up to that version of myself."
"You can probably do it again," Yoongi shrugged.
"I promise, I'm really trying." A moment of silence passed between them but the air felt a little lighter. "Will you and Jimin come home, please? It won't be right for any of us until you guys are there. We all miss you both."
Yoongi nodded sadly, "I guess I can't wait for her forever."
"Hobi has been putting together a room for her," Jin told him, but it only seemed to make Yoongi's heart stink further. "You will find her, Yoon."
"How?" Yoongi breathed.
"I don't know. There's this old thing that people used to talk about, called fated mates. No one really believes in them anymore. But the idea is, some people are meant to come into your life, and I don't think you would feel like this for no reason."
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If you're wondering why you haven't gone to Yoongi yet, it's because things were actually going quite well for you, at least by comparison. One company on Jimin's list stood out to you immediately. The cleaning service was owned by an omega named Ana, and you learned that she was particularly passionate about helping other omegas who escaped abusive situations like she had. She knew working gave you the ability to be independent, but that it wasn't easy to keep up. She took one look at you and knew you were exactly the kind of girl who needed her help. Jimin's name only sealed the deal, though she didn't bother to call him up. When she said someone was needed to clean at the public library, you jumped at the chance to work somewhere you already knew. 
It had been three weeks now, and everything was going well, by your standards. You were still staying at the shelter, but you'd already gotten your first paycheck and in a month or two you might be able to get yourself out of there. For the first time in several months, you felt like things might be okay.
It was almost the end of your shift when you saw them. They were standing in the aisle you were about to turn down to dust, but you pulled back as soon as their scents hit you and hid yourself behind the end of the row of shelves. Sure, those scents could belong to anyone. Everyone's scent was unique, but lots of people shared general scents. You were hardly the only apple scented omega in the world. But the combination of chestnut and pine was too familiar. It had layered the pack's house and mingled in a uniquely homey way. You were certain that it was Seokjin and one of his other alphas. You'd never gotten his name. You'd never even spoken to him or looked at him directly. For good reason, too. He was absolutely massive, standing at least a foot over you. One look at his hands and you knew that he could kill you if you upset him. Seokjin was tall and broad as well, and Taehyung was not much smaller at all, but for some reason it was the unnamed one that terrified you most. The two of them together were downright terrifying, and your brain did a good job of reminding you of that every time your inner voice started longing for Yoongi or Jimin or Hoseok.
You decided to turn back the way you came before they could smell you, too. You could hide in your custodian's closet for the next twenty minutes of your shift. It was Saturday and the library would be closed tomorrow. A little dust could wait until Monday morning.
You emerged from the closet at the end of your shift, having changed out of your cleaning uniform and into jeans and Yoongi's hoodie. It didn't smell like him anymore, but you were reminded of his scent every time you used the citrus scented cleaner for the floors. It was a mockery of his natural smell, but it brought him to mind nonetheless. Few scents have been imprinted into your brain as deeply as that one. There was a card in the front pocket of the hoodie, just a small rectangle with a name and contact information printed on it and Jimin's neat, careful numbers written on the back. The cardstock had lost its stiffness after the hours you've spent clutching it, the corners were tearing from all the worrying of your fingernails, like they were doing now.
Go catch them, she whispered in your head as you watched two tall, broad sets of shoulders walk through the doors of the library.
You know what Seokjin will do to you. 
You don't know. Yoongi wouldn't let him.
Round and round they went again, never giving you a moment's peace. 
Please call Jimin.
You walked toward the information desk where Maria sat at her computer, next to the phone.
"All done for today, Y/N?" Maria asked with a pleasant smile. You nodded.
"Can I use your phone to make a call? Mine was stolen. It's local."
"Yeah, of course. Just dial nine to call out," she said as she turned the telephone toward you.
This is a bad idea.
You picked up the receiver and pulled out the card from your pocket. You dialed nine, then five, and then you froze. A scent filled your nose, one that you hadn't smelled in many years. One you thought you'd never smell again. It was spearmint stronger than any gum or mouthwash. His scent was always so potent, you were amazed your sap parents couldn't smell it. How could they have thought he was one of them? You turned to look for him, but he saw you first.
"Y/N?"
"Eli?" You asked, astonished. You couldn't have expected to see him in this city. 
"What are you doing here?" He wondered, stepping close to you. For a moment you thought he might try to hug you, but you were never like that with your adopted brother. You hadn't seen him since you were thrown out of your parents house, and you always figured it was best that way. 
The years between his presentation and yours had been tense. You could smell him as soon as his scent started to develop. It was the first sign you had that you wouldn't turn out sap like they said you might—truthfully, your average sapiens don't understand the genetics of cross-breeding that well. And of course he was terrified of you giving away his secret, no matter how vehemently you vowed that you wouldn't. You only ever hoped you could be as lucky as him. To be a beta and to go undetected for as long as possible. But it didn't work out like that for you, and all these years you might have resented him a bit for that. 
"I work here," you confessed, looking around as people went about their business in the library. Maria looked to be paying you no mind. "I just finished. What brings you here?" 
"Just returning some books. Are you free?"
You finally placed the receiver back in its cradle and removed your hand. "Yeah, what did you have in mind?"
"Are you hungry?" Eli asked. You were and you weren't. On the one hand you hadn't eaten yet that day, but on the other, your stomach was twisted in its usual knots. You nodded anyway.
Eli took you to a diner close by and promised he was paying so you could order anything you wanted. You ordered a cheese burger to try to pack in as many calories as you could in one meal. 
"Do you still talk to them?" You asked quietly after you'd run out of small talk. Eli held your gaze for a moment before he answered.
"Sometimes," he admitted. "It's not like they were ever big talkers. But they know I'm here and about my job, my fiance."
"Fiance?"
"Yeah. We're planning to get married next year." You nodded thoughtfully. "She's sap, and she doesn't know about me," he admitted, unprovoked. You looked him deeply in the eyes before you spoke. You couldn't help feeling jealous of what that must be like, to be able to deny yourself so easily.
"How is that going?" 
"Pretty well. It's not a problem," he said, but it didn't seem to ring true on his face.
"What about you? You work at the library?"
"I clean there. I just started this month." You shifted uneasily in your chair, a little because you were uncomfortably full but also because he had been talking about himself most of the time and how he was turning the attention on you, and that never felt like a good thing.
"Oh, nice. Your pack lets you work?" 
His question caught you off guard because for one thing, you were surprised that he assumed you had a pack. For someone who was denying who they were to their most intimate partner, he sure did jump to the conclusion that you wouldn't be. But you didn't appreciate the fact that he thought you needed permission to work. For some reason you couldn't really understand, you said, "yeah."
"That's interesting. You don't meet a lot of omegas out there working in public. Seems like most alphas like to keep them locked up at home."
You wanted to tell him he had no idea what he was talking about. As far as you could tell, Eli has less experience with Lykos culture than you did. What did he know about alpha and omega dynamics? But you didn't bother. "Well, my alpha isn't like that."
Eli brushed off his hands as he finished his fries. "That's good. Let me take you home. I'd like to meet them."
You didn't know the address of the pack's house, but you remembered how to get there from the library, and you were able to direct him there without much trouble. 
"It's that blue one up there," you told him when he turned onto the right street.
"This one?" Eli asked with a raised eyebrow, seeing what you did at the same time: a for sale sign with a triumphant red 'SOLD' sign sitting atop it. You swallowed thickly and felt your eyes begin to burn.
See, all these weeks of torturing yourself with indecision, and they didn't want you anyway. You never listen to me.
You could feel Eli's eyes on you, waiting for an explanation, so you cleared your throat. "I don't actually live here. I stayed here for a little bit, with a pack, but I guess they've moved on."
"Your pack left you?" He asked incredulously.
You shook your head, "they aren't actually my pack. They just took care of me for a few days when I was sick. It was a while ago. I just didn't want to tell you where I'm really staying, so I lied."
"What were you gonna do if they were here and I asked to meet them?" Eli smirked and you shrugged.
"Hope they'd play along until you left."
"And then what?"
And then ask if I could stay.
Idiot.
"I don't know," you admitted. You had no idea what you were going to do if you saw them. You didn't know what you would have said if you'd called Jimin and he'd answered earlier.
"You still haven't learned to think ahead, have you, Y/N?" Eli sighs and puts the car back in drive. "So, where are you staying?" 
You sit up straighter in your seat and reach for the door. "It's fine. You can leave me here. I've wasted enough of your time tonight."
"Don't worry about it. Just tell me where to go."
You directed Eli downtown to the shelter, only for him to have the reaction you had feared. You moved quickly to get out of his car but his hand on your arm stopped you.
"Y/N, why are you staying here?" His voice was filled with shock.
"I'm just going through a little rough patch. I'll be back on my feet soon. I have a job. I just need time," you rushed out all your defenses.
"Do you need money?" 
"No! God, I don't want your money."
"Y/N, you can't stay here. I've heard awful things about this place."
"Well, it's better than the street, or some predator."
"You can do better than this."
"I'm trying, okay! You think I like this? I don't. But what's it to you anyway! We meet randomly after five years and you're suddenly an over protective big brother? Do you think my life has been easy?" You've started to shake and you knew you were getting hysterical, but you didn't need his opinion on things he would never understand.
"Y/N, I know things haven't been easy for you. Let me help," he offered softly.
"How can you possibly help me?" You sat in the passenger seat with your arms crossed, looking every bit his teenage sister.
Eli swallowed before he spoke. "Come stay at my place for a bit."
"At your place?" He nodded. "What about your fiance? Doesn't she hate Lykos?"
"I never said she hated them."
"Us."
"Us. She just had some bad experiences with some alphas when she was younger. She doesn't really like to be around our kind," he explained, as if that made it better.
"Doesn't it make you feel crazy to have to pretend all the time?"
Eli shrugged. "I'm used to it…with our parents. They still don't know about me. It's not that hard, really. You can pretend for a little bit. You can get heat suppressants or whatever."
You know he's right.
You leaned your head back against the headrest and closed your eyes.
I don't want to pretend anymore.
What's so great about being the real you?
I'm gonna call–
If you were going to call him you would have by now and besides, they literally gave you a sign. It was all a lie. Just go with Eli. 
You sighed. "I have some stuff inside. If I leave it, they'll throw it out."
"I'll wait," Eli said and let you get out of the car. 
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Yoongi and Jimin arrived at the new house just as Hoseok was finishing dinner preparations. Taehyung had set the table for seven, and for the first time in weeks it felt complete. No one would hold it against Yoongi for needing space, or for doing what he needed to do in hopes of bringing you into their pack, but that didn't mean they hadn't missed him and Jimin like crazy.
And it wasn't as though they hadn't seen each other at all. Taehyung had driven Hoseok back to the old house on many occasions, to bring his boys food or to take their laundry, no matter how many times Yoongi insisted they could go to the laundromat. He couldn't bear the thought of it. Jungkook stopped by after work anytime he didn't have a night shift. Namjoon and Jin had come over a few evenings when Yoongi was working so that Jimin wouldn't feel lonely.
It was strange for Jimin to spend time alone. He'd spent most of his adolescence surrounded by others and then the last four years in a pack house where someone was always home. In fact, the point in his life when he was the most alone was right before he met Yoongi and the others, and moving in with them had been a huge relief. Jimin hadn't been exactly lonely during those weeks when it was just him and Yoongi, but the quiet was hard to get used to, and the noise that surrounded their return was welcomed and familiar.
No one was going to admit it, because they were too happy to be back together again, but the time apart hadn't been the worst thing in the world. It had given them space to work on bonds that they had not paid as much attention to as maybe they should have. Seokjin and Namjoon had gone on several dates, just the two of them, the pack leader letting his mate take him to every museum in town and casual trips to the library. Jin hadn't even realized how much he was neglecting the second alpha in his pack, nor how much he had truly missed quality time with him. As soon as the realization hit him, he made a heartfelt apology to Namjoon for focusing too much attention on Hoseok and their plans. Of course, Namjoon forgave him easily. He always would.
Namjoon couldn't really put it into words, but his alpha status had never sat quite right with him until he met Seokjin. Sure, he was large and strong and everything an alpha should be on the outside, but he'd never felt the stereotypical aggression or need for control that alphas were known for. This had always felt like a character flaw in himself until he met Jin, who simultaneously had shown him that being an alpha didn't mean he had to be an asshole, and who was also willing to take on the burden of control that Namjoon rejected. When he met Jin, he could just be himself, and for that he would always love him above all others.
Hoseok, too, had used his time wisely in getting more in touch with the feelings of his younger packmates. The fact that he hadn't realized how insecure Taehyung had been feeling and how often Jungkook had been sleeping outside of the nest ate at him constantly. Although he and Tae had been companions at home for years now, Hoseok made a concerted effort to spend more quality time with him, to ask him his opinions on every detail of the new house, not only so he would feel included and welcome or because of his artistic eye but because of the boxy grin Tae gave him every time gave him immeasurable happiness.
Jungkook got the lion's share of Hoseok's attention whenever he got home from work, whether it was 5 pm or 5 am. It always involved lots of touching and scent marking, although if Jungkook came home smelling like lavender and oranges, Hoseok spent considerable more focus on getting those smells onto his own body. If he had a hard time getting Jungkook to smile and laugh once he was in the nest, Hoseok would gently coax him into talking so he could comfort the beta. 
On the whole, everyone in the new house was feeling much better than they had a month or even months ago, except for the fact that two integral parts of their lives were missing. It didn't feel the same as it did before they met Yoongi and Jimin. They had been irreversibly changed. And those two hadn't quite seemed to benefit as much from the separation as the rest.
Jimin squealed and giggled as Jungkook lifted him off the ground and spun him around. "Put me down, Kookie!"
"Never," the other beta mumbled into his shoulder. "I missed you too much."
"I saw you two days ago," Jimin reminded him.
"That's two days too long."
Yoongi couldn't help smiling at the betas as they greeted each other. It warmed his heart to see how little changed between them as Jungkook began to scent mark Jimin until he smelled like something fresh out of the dryer.
"I'm glad you're back," Hoseok said as he cupped Yoongi's smiling cheek in his hand. His heart ached when he watched the man's smile diminish.
"Yeah, I missed you guys," Yoongi admitted, but somehow the omega could tell that longing for his pack wasn't the dominant feeling in his heart at that moment.
"Let's eat dinner, and then I'll show you around the rest of the house," Hoseok encouraged and Yoongi nodded, setting down his bag before going to the table.
"You made kimchi-jjigae?" Jimin asked before taking a seat.
"I wanted to do something special, so I made your favorite to welcome you home," hoseok shrugged.
Jimin walked over and put his arms around the omega in a tight hug. "I love you, hyung."
"I love you, too, Jiminie," he smiled into the man's soft hair. Yoongi watched with a smile of his own. Nothing was as nice as watching Jimin get doted on the way he deserved, and he felt a pang of guilt for having kept the man to himself for so long. Yoongi had heaped tons of love and attention on him during their time alone, but Jimin always deserved more. He was sure he'd feel the same way about you if– Yoongi cut off his own thoughts. He wasn't going to go there anymore. He needed to give up for the sake of his pack, and he knew it. It wouldn't be easy, but he had to. He couldn't let himself believe in anything as fickle as fate to bring you to him.
After they'd all eaten until they were stuffed, Hoseok led Yoongi upstairs by the hand. 
"That's the master bedroom," he pointed out as they passed it by. "This is the room we hope will be the nursery," he said walking by the middle room on the second floor. Yoongi gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. "And this room is for your little pup."
Yoongi swallowed thickly as he walked into the room. The walls had been painted a serene shade of sea foam green and the mattress was fitted with cream colored bedding.
"I didn't think she was a pink kind of girl. Or at least I wasn't sure, so Taehyung suggested this color might be soothing for her. What do you think?"
 "You guys worked so hard on this." Yoongi ran his fingers down the gauzy cream curtains. "It's great, Hobi, but," Yoongi sighed as he sat on the edge of the bed. "She's not coming."
Hoseok frowned and settled himself atop Yoongi's lap. The alpha wrapped his arms around his waist naturally to hold him in place as he had so many times. "She hasn't come yet. But that doesn't mean she won't. I know you're feeling hopeless, but you need to have a little faith."
Yoongi looked up at him with weary eyes. "How can you be so positive about it?"
"I might be a tad bit more objective about it than you are," Hoseok smiled as he leaned into him. 
"Every minute feels like an eternity," Yoongi whispered.
"I really think she might be your fated mate," Hoseok giggled.
"Do you actually believe in that stuff?"
The omega shrugged. "I don't know. I don't think I've ever met any, but as you know, I don't get out much. I only know stories. Do you have a better explanation for it?"
Yoongi thought quietly for a moment, opening and closing his mouth as he searched for the right words, but he thought maybe they didn't exist. "All I know is it feels wrong to know that she's out there…in the world…and I'm not there to protect her."
Hoseok gently knocked their heads together. "Sounds like fated mates to me." Yoongi rolled his eyes playfully. "Don't give up yet, Yoon. Jimin and Jungkook found her by chance, but that doesn't mean it wasn't meant to be. When the time comes, you'll be in the right place at the right time, too."
"I hate the feeling that I won't be there before something terrible happens."
Hoseok clicked his tongue at the man. "You're so paranoid. Lighten up. She's coming! And when she does, this room will be her home. Won't that be nice?"
Yoongi smiled, giving into Hobi's relentless optimism. "It will be perfect."
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Eli drove you to a stylish looking apartment building on the other side of town. It was obvious the moment he took you inside the apartment that he hadn't used the time while you were gathering your things to warn his fiance that you were coming. A tall blonde came quickly toward the door wearing an expression you couldn't quite define but leaned towards angry.
"Babe, where were you? I just got home and you weren't here. What's going on?" She asked as her eyes fell on you and even you could feel yourself shrink under her sharp eyes.
Eli leaned in to kiss her cheek. "I'm sorry, baby. I should have called. But I ran into my sister. You remember, I told you about Y/N." 
"Not really," she admitted with a tight smile as your brother stepped aside and she got a good look at you. "I thought she ran away," she whispered.
"Yeah, ran away, not died," he whispered back. You weren't sure if they knew you could hear them or they didn't care but you felt smaller and smaller by the second. "She lives in the city now, and she needs a place to stay," he said loud enough for you to hear, although she clearly wished he wouldn't.
"Can I talk to you for a minute, Eli?" She asked with the same tight smile, and it occurred to you that you didn't know her name. Had you forgotten it, or had he simply not mentioned it to you before at the restaurant?
"We'll be right back, Y/N," Eli nodded.
Whatever room they moved to was not far enough away or sound proof enough to keep their conversation from your ears.
"What the hell? You can't bring random girls to our home, Eli!"
"She's not some random girl. She's my sister. She has a difficult situation right now, am I not supposed to help her?"
"Doesn't that seem a little convenient to you? That your long lost sister suddenly finds you when she's fallen on hard times?"
"What are you even insinuating? I'm the one that ran into her at her work."
"I just think it's fishy. And you never talk about her. I think you've mentioned her twice the whole time we've been together, so what's with the big brother act?"
"I just feel bad, okay? Our parents weren't easy on her. I just want to help her out for once."
A long pause settled between them.
"Please. Just a couple weeks, three tops, until I can find her a place to live."
"Did she ask you for money?"
"No. She didn't even ask if she could stay here. But her other situation wasn't safe."
"Jesus. Are you sure she's even your sister? Hasn't it been like ten years? She still looks like a teenager."
"She's just small. It's her, trust me. Everything will be fine."
"Fine. But three weeks and not a day more, Eli."
You turned toward the door to leave. You didn't want to be an inconvenience, much less cause strife in their relationship. He'd already lied to her about you enough, saying that you ran away instead of telling her how and why you were thrown out of your home. Every moment you spent there would only heap more lies up between them. You didn't know what he was thinking of bringing you here, but he was misguided.
"Y/N," he spoke just as you reached for the door knob. "Everything is fine. Come, I'll show you the guest room."
There was always something that made your skin itch about a 'guest room.' Maybe it was just that you never needed it spelled out for you that you held a place of impermanence no matter where you went. You didn't belong. You wouldn't be staying long. These were things you knew without needing them codified in words. 
"There are fresh sheets in this closet," she told you, making a reappearance with a somewhat more believable smile on her face. "I would have made it up for you if I had some warning."
"That's fine. I can make it myself," you assured her quietly. "I'm sorry, I forgot your name."
She sighed quietly. "I'm Kate. There are extra blankets in there as well in case you get cold."
"Thanks, Kate," you murmured before she turned to leave.
"Get some rest, Y/N. We'll talk in the morning," Eli said before he closed the bedroom door and you were alone.
The following day, Kate seemed to find reasons to be out of the house all day. You did your best to have as little contact with Eli as possible. I'm spite of his recent charity in bringing you here, you had never really been that close. The years between you and the resentment you felt were high barriers. Besides, you'd become too suspicious of kindness in your life to truly trust him. 
During the week, you returned to work, and even though he offered to drive you and pick you up, you insisted on taking the bus across town, if for no other reason than that it extended the time you were out of their home. When you were there, you cooked and cleaned. It was the only way you knew how to do penance for your ever inconvenient existence, the only payment of a perpetually uninvited guest. And when she realized how quiet and clean you were, Kate did thaw toward you, if only slightly. 
The main benefit of staying at their apartment was the opportunity to get quality sleep. It was quiet, and you were spared the frequent interruptions that occured in the shelter, as well as the constant anxiety of being around so many strangers and strong smells. Among the many practices that made the True Life Ministry different from other shelters was that they didn't separate you by secondary gender, only by male and female, so the threat of alphas was ever present. Although behavior was strictly monitored, you never felt entirely safe.
There was one thought that continued to itch in your brain as you laid on the bed and tried to sleep. It was still pretty early in the evening, but you'd had a pretty rotten day. One of the Lykos who frequently passed her days in the library had decided to make you an object of interest today, whiling away the afternoon throwing trash at you every time you came near where she sat in the computer lab while you emptied the bins or cleaned a table. Eventually, one of the librarians asked the alpha to leave, but it had already soured your mood. You cooked and ate dinner silently before turning in early, and even Kate was a little concerned by the way you kept your head hung low and didn't look at either of them even once. 
Now, the only comfort you could think of was sitting in the closet mere feet from your bed.
The blue and white striped blanket is so soft. At least start there.
You know you're not supposed to do that.
Hoseok said it was good for me and it was so nice when he did it.
You aren't Hoseok. You're barely even a fucking omega. You know it never leads to good things for you.
Please. Just a little nest. I need it. Just for a little while. Please.
You sat up in bed and stared at the closet door. There were several very soft blankets in there going unused. Kate did say you could use them.
She said if you got cold. You're not cold. You're fine.
"What's it going to hurt?" You whispered to yourself.
Do you really have to ask? Remember the first time? 
You pulled back the quilt laying on top of you and scooted off the edge of the bed. Creeping to the door, you opened it slowly.
You don't even know how to build a fucking nest. Don't even try.
It's not that hard. Start with the white one.
Eli told you to pretend. What if they find you acting like an animal?
For once you ignored the harsh whispers in your head and followed the smaller voice's instructions. You laid the soft white blanket out as a base, then bunched up two knitted blankets to make a perimeter. You didn't need a very big nest. You were so small. Finally you fluffed the striped throw blanket across the top before climbing into the nest. For once, all your voices quieted as you wiggled your body around, finding the perfect spot for you that made you feel warm and fuzzy and protected. All the world fell away as you nuzzled your face against the fluffy white blanket beneath you. You might have been falling asleep, or maybe just falling within yourself to a quiet, soft place you can only really remember going to when you were in Hoseok's nest last month. You'd never managed to get there with your former pack, where they mocked you for your pathetic attempts at a nest until you gave up altogether. 
Kate, despite her previous coldness toward you, could tell there was something wrong with you. She could tell you were still awake by the soft, albeit strange noises coming from the guest room, and decided to check on you to see if there was anything you needed. When you didn't answer her knocks, she decided to open the door anyway. It was her home after all, right? When she turned on the light, she didn't expect to see you lift your head from a pile of blankets, hair a static mess and pupils blown wide. You whimpered at the bright light.
"What are you doing?" She asked, her tone a mixture of shock and suspicion. "What's going on? Eli?" She called loudly.
You stared at her in confusion until he came to the doorway. "What?"
Kate pointed a finger at you. "What the hell is she doing?"
Eli cursed under her breath as he walked toward you on the bed. He took your face in his hands. "Wake up, Y/N. Snap out of it!" He muttered. 
"Is she…is she one of them?" She asked, pitched raised. You whimpered again.
"Damn it, Y/N," Eli groaned. "I didn't know."
"What do you mean? Are you one of them too?"
"No. No! She's adopted. You know that. My parents thought that's why she ran away, but I didn't know for sure," Eli lied.
"Fuck, Eli. You know how I feel about those...things," Kate cringed.
"Baby, please. I'm sure she's harmless." Eli approached her with open palms, but she only backed out of the room. 
"Get her the fuck out of my house. Right now!" She shouted. 
Eli looked between the two of you anxiously. He stepped closer to you once again and felt his heart clench at the desperately scared look in your wide, vulnerable eyes. "I'm sorry, Y/N, but you have to go."
You whined and pressed yourself closer to the blankets, as if they would protect you. Eli sighed. You weren't difficult to pick up and pluck out of your nest. You'd lost whole pounds since your last heat.
"I'm sorry Yn," he muttered as he carried you down the hallway toward the door.
"Make sure she's out of the building," Kate grumbled as he went by her holding the door open.
Eli nodded and carried you into the elevator before he set you on unsteady feet. "You couldn't fucking hold it together could you?"
Your brain was scrambling to come back online, but you didn't have words yet. Fucking stupid omega brain.
"I swear to God if you ruined this for me," he muttered. You wished you could tell him what I fucking fake he was, but your tongue was glued to the top of your mouth. The elevator reached the lobby and Eli walked you outside. "Sorry, Y/N," he told you once more before he turned to go back inside. "Have a nice life."
The night air was chilly with that feeling it might rain at any second. You thanked yourself for wearing Yoongi's hoodie to bed and turned to walk in an unknown direction.
We fucking told you so. You never fucking listen.
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Yoongi wasn't the only one who spent his nights on duty feeling like the next call was going to be the one he dreaded most. Rainy nights always filled Jungkook with a specific kind of dread. It was the kind of night that led to avoidable accidents, which is what he thought had happened when he and his partner stopped their patrol car behind a parked car in the middle of a narrow one way street. The short whoop of the police cruiser when they came to a stop got the attention of the driver of the car, who turned and quickly began shouting at Jungkook as soon as he opened the passenger side door.
"It wasn't my fault, officer! She pushed him in front of my car! There wasn't anything I could do!" The woman screamed hysterically.
"Calm down, ma'am," Jungkook's partner, Xavier, said cautiously before he leaned into his walkie talkie and requested back up. 
Meanwhile Jungkook walked around the passenger side of his vehicle and sniffed the air. The falling rain made it harder to smell the scents around him, but he managed to pick up a few things. The sour fear coming from the Sap woman, smoky sage, and blood. When he reached the front of the car, he could tell those last two scents came from the alpha lying unconscious in the road, blood flowing from his head to mix with the engine oil and rain water on the sleek blacktop. He knelt down when he got closer and spoke into his own radio to call for an ambulance. And then he smelled it. The apple cider vinegar that telegraphed your fear. 
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No matter what Jin and Hoseok said, Yoongi wouldn't attribute the foreboding and acute anxiety he felt tonight to the possibility of fated mates. He felt nervous every night he sat in the ambulance waiting for the next call, hoping it wouldn't be your body that was injured. Tonight was rainy and dark and that always meant car accidents. Yoongi was just anticipating what anyone in his line of work would do on a night like tonight.  
"Do you think it will be her this time?" His coworker asked with casual cruelty as Yoongi drove to the scene of an accident. 
"Shut up," he muttered in reply.
"Don't be so sensitive. I thought alphas like you would be able to take a joke," the Sap teased.
"It's not a fucking joke." Yoongi barely held back a growl.
"Relax. You're not the first EMT to spend the night driving around looking for someone they love in every scene. We all go through it at some point. It's never them.*
But that was where he was wrong.
Yoongi freely admitted that he'd been a paranoid mess the last month, scanning every face at every site for you. But he had never imagined your smell, so he knew he wasn't imagining it now. It filled his senses the moment he opened the door of the ambulance. He could smell the blood, too, but he honed in on your scent only. He could focus on nothing else.
You were sitting on the curb between the bumpers of two parked cars with your head between your knees, but Yoongi didn't need to see your face to know it was you. Only you could be so small and fragile, even under the shock blanket Jungkook had the good sense to put over you. He wanted to scoop you up and get you out of the rain. The fact that Jungkook was standing protectively in front of you lessened his panic by a fraction.
"Is she hurt?" Yoongi asked, kneeling in front of you. "Y/N, are you okay?" 
You didn't respond, simply continued to rock back and forth with your hands clasped over your head. 
"She's not injured. She's just in shock. She hasn't said much," Jungkook told him.
Yoongi reached forward to touch your chin. "Look at me, princess. Let me see if you're okay."
When you lifted your eyes to his, you looked as terrified as you smelled. "Alpha? Is he dead?" You asked painfully.
"Yoongi, over here!" His partner called from the road. The alpha didn't take his eyes off you. How could he leave you like this? "Yoongi!"
"Go on, hyung. Do your job. I'll take care of her. I won't let her out of my sight. I promise."
Yoongi's eyes remained locked on yours for a moment longer. You had asked him only one thing, and if getting you reassurance was all he could do then that's what he would do. "I'll go check on him. Everything will be okay, princess. Wait here." He tried his best to sound reassuring as he stroked your wet hair and you leaned into his touch before he tore himself away to go help the alpha bleeding out on the asphalt. 
His sage scent faded as life drained from him, but the other EMT was applying pressure to his head wound, so he wasn't gone yet. Yoongi went into autopilot to help his partner stabilize the patient, but he was desperate to know what had happened and how you had been involved. Should he even be saving this man? Who was he to you? 
They managed to get the man onto the stretcher and into the ambulance while he still clung to life without Yoongi having much idea at all of what he was doing. He stayed in the back with the patient while his partner drove, otherwise Yoongi would never be able to make himself leave without you.
"Y/N, I'm taking you to the police station," Jungkook told you after the ambulance had left and another police officer had taken the driver of the car away. 
Without any other acknowledgement, you stood, letting the shock blanket fall from your shoulders as you turned your back on Jungkook and placed your hands behind your back.
Jungkook frowned, "you're not under arrest, Y/N. I'm just taking you to the station to give a statement and wait for someone to come get you."
You turned to look at him confusedly. "No one will come for me."
Jungkook smiled sadly. "Yoongi will come. Let's go."
At the station, Jungkook sat you next to his desk in the bullpen and went to go get you a warm drink. He placed a paper cup of hot tea in your hands, which you took without looking at it or him, but just stared blankly ahead.
"Y/N, can you tell me what happened before the accident?" Jungkook asked, fingers poised over his keyboard.
"Eli threw me out."
"What?"
"Was walking. Was raining but…nowhere to go." You took a sip of the too hot tea to ease the dryness of your throat. "Smelled him first. Hate that smell. So I walked faster, but he's bigger, faster. He caught me. Grabbed my arm."
"Did he hurt your arm?" Jungkook asked. You honestly didn't know. You felt numb all over, just like you had since you'd smelled the burning sage earlier. Setting down the small cup, you pulled up the sleeve of Yoongi's hoodie to reveal the bruises that were blossoming along your forearm. "Shit," Jungkook muttered. "We'll take pictures in a minute. What happened next?" 
"We argued."
"About what?"
"Wanted me to come with him. Didn't want to."
Jungkook studied your face cautiously. "Why did he want you to come with him?" 
You shrugged. "Same as always. Wanted to breed me."
"Is that Eli?" He questioned.
You shook your head. "Eli is my brother."
Jungkook nodded. "But you know that man."
You nodded dumbly. "My alpha."
Jungkook felt his stomach turn over and over. Knowing what little he did about your experience with your past alpha, your barely-there behavior made more sense.
"What happened when you argued?"
You swallowed. "I tried to get away, to get him off. He wouldn't let go, so I–I pushed him and he slipped. He fell into the street and then the car was there."
"Did you see the car before you pushed him?" Maybe Jungkook shouldn't have asked. He wasn't formally interrogating you. Something in him just wanted to know.
You shook your head. "Its lights weren't on. Dark and wet. Couldn't see behind him."
Jungkook swallowed thickly and turned his attention to his screen to finish entering the information you had given him.
"Did I kill him?" You asked blankly, making Jungkook pause to look at you.
"He was still alive when they left the scene. Even if anyone is at fault, we would first look at the driver of the car. You aren't in any trouble right now, Y/N." You nodded in understanding. "For now, it's probably best if you stay quiet."
You were sure time passed, although you didn't feel it. Jungkook went and came back, took photos of the bruises on your arm and brought you a fresh drink. The world continued to turn because it had never stopped for any of your crises, big or small, why would it now? It might have been hours or minutes. You couldn't tell. Everything around you was blocked out until you felt a cold breeze sweep through the station carrying a sharp citrus scent.
Alpha.
Without any thought, you found yourself on your feet. As if acting on their own, they shuffled past the rows of desks. There was a wall and gate separating the back part of the station from the public entry, but you pushed past them until you could see Yoongi. His black hair dripped rainwater onto his cheeks, and he pushed the wet strands back. You couldn't hear what he was asking the officer at the desk, but the words went silent when he turned toward you. Without an invitation you found yourself pressed against his chest, your arms wrapping around his waist.
It took him half a second to respond, encircling you in his own strong arms and holding you to him. "It's alright," he whispered.
You nuzzled your forehead against his chest and murmured back, "Alpha."
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I hope the end of this roller coaster made up for the journey. I promise it's going to get better now. Thank you for sticking it out. Please tell me what you've liked in this chapter or any time up until now, and what you're looking forward to or hoping for going forward. Here's a Yoongi, you've earned it.
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starrycassi · 9 months
Text
Ballister's been through this many times. Ambrosius comes into his room, hysterical, to announce him of some ridiculous upper crust rule or ball or challenge that he's got to participate in. He knows the drill by now; listen to him, reassure him and help him get ready, be it brushing his hair or co-writing a speech for him to give.
The Goldenloin family puts up an act for people to show off Ambrosius and his many qualities every so often. He doesn't really care, not anymore. He used to panic alongside Ambrosius, when they were thirteen. He's seventeen, now, and the novelty of it has worn off — it's just kind of funny, really, to see his boyfriend suffer through hours and hours of whatever bullshit he's supposed to do now.
This upcoming event, however, is doing a number on Ambrosius's nerves. He's pacing back and forth the room, and he hasn't even looked at Ballister yet. His tic — the one in his left eye, is back, and his lips are red and swollen in the places where he's been bitting them. It's barely five am, and Ballister knows that this is going to be a long day.
"You're going to get nauseous if you keep spinning around, Amber" he tries to start the conversation, voice soft and words slow. Between them, Ambrosius has always been the worst when it comes to keeping his emotions under control. Ballister's learnt, by now, that sometimes it's just better to give him space.
"I'm nauseous already. Some spinning won't hurt, I'm sure" he snaps back, almost screaming. Ballister decides that talking to him won't be possible right now, and goes back to the project on his table, making sure to hold the screwdriver at the right angle.
After fifteen minutes or so, Ambrosius finally stops. He whines, letting his body weight drag him down on Ballister's mattress.
"What is it, this time?"
Ambrosius's silent, only whining a bit more after the question, like a wounded dog. That's new. He usually loves to go on rants about how everything is going to go wrong and how the whole world hates him in secret. Ballister puts down the tools, quickly scribbles down what he's supposed to do next to avoid future mistakes, and sits down next to his boyfriend, threading a hand through the other teen's hair.
They stay like that some minutes, Ballister working his way through the blond strands and Ambrosius simply lying there. Ballister's starting to think that he's fallen asleep, when Ambrosius finally speaks up, face still buried in pillows.
"They're marrying me off, Bal"
The world stops spinning.
Ballister goes static. His whole body freezes, and his heart stops beating. He can feel the blood on his veins going cold, so cold his bones feel stuck, too.
This was a expected situation, kind of. Captain Gloria, Ambrosius's mom, had been married off, too. She didn't like her husband in the slightest and they never talked to each other. Ambrosius told him all that.
She had also promised to keep her son away from that predicament. But Ballister knew better than to trust mothers. His own had abandoned him some years ago, after all.
"What... How? What?"
Ambrosius sits up, criss cross, hugging a pillow. He's such a kid. His eyes are already watery, and he's got a red nose, probably from slamming his face into the pillows.
"Not- well, not actually marrying me off. Mum doesn't want that, y'know" He shrugs, looking at his own hands. "But she can't really... just go against tradition, I guess. So, uh, there's going to be a tournament, figths, you know? And I know I'll probably win, she chose combat because she knows I'm good at it, but what if I don't win?"
He takes a deep breath, grunting. Ballister's brain is struggling to catch up, so he can't do much more than nod, encouraging his boyfriend to keep talking.
"It's not going to be like here, only us, cadets and students, where I know I will undoubtedly win. Actual grown ups could get in there, Ballister. My mom's been screaming to anyone and everyone about how ridiculous everything is, but- I guess rules are rules. I haven't slept. We stayed up all night on the phone, she tore down the whole family's library, called all of our lawyers, we tried every single article and law ever written. Nothing. The best we can do is... hope"
"The Captain's right. This is ridiculous, Ambrosius. What do you mean grown ups? Why? That's fucking creepy. Can't you guys just... say no? You're a Goldenloin, surely you-"
Ambrosius grunts, again, tugging at one of his hair strands.
"It's not that easy!" He screams, shutting Ballister up. "I've been getting proposals for... for forever! It's not really a matter of love as it is a matter of money, Bal. I've been getting proposals even from before I was actually born. Political alliances and all that. Mom's been doing her best, I know she has, but when a heir has said "no" enough times, then a duel or something can be called up, and an actual tournament would be way easier than just fighting every single idiot that wants to get my last name!"
Ballister's never been happier to be an orphan commoner than right now. His only worry when it comes to marriage is whether or not he can afford a pretty ring.
It's not like commoners don't marry for money. Arranged marriages were a pretty common thing around him, young kids marrying older people to try and get their families ahead, forced by their parents, their "spouses" or their economical situations. He just... never really had to worry about it, ever since he became a knight.
"That's incredibly fucked up, Ambrosius"
"I know ! I am well aware of how weird this must be for you, Bal. And I have absolutely no backup plan. My mom's confident that I'm winning, because Goldenloins never lose, but I'm not her! She can still beat me when we spar together, what am I going to do if someone else wins? Just... get married?"
Trying to come up with a solution, Ballister stutters and stammers his way through a sentence.
"You could, uh, get married and have a divorce, right?"
"No! Totally no! You don't get it! Whoever wins gets to ask whatever they want from my family, money, land, my hand- whatever, and then that's irrevocable!"
Stressed out, Ballister screechs. Of course he doesn't get it. No one ever bothered to explain this to him. He knew that parents could force their kids to marry (Captain Gloria once told him the story, very drunk and very mad at her departed dad) but not that a whole fucking event could be staged even if the family said no.
"It's not my fault I don't get it, you twat! Do you think the knigth training automatically gave me political marriage bullshit training, too? Well, no, it didn't! I'm so sorry for not knowing you weird ass nobility traditions, Ambrosius, I didn't realize I was supposed to!"
Getting up from the bed, mad at the world for being unfair and at himself for snapping, he runs his hands through his hair, with the impulse to simply rip it all off. It quickly gets replaced by guilt. Ambrosius has done nothing wrong, and here he is, being an asshole instead of helping.
"Amber... Shit, I'm sorry. This is just-"
Chuckling humorlessly, Ambrosius waves his hand in the air. He looks up at Ballister, and shakes his head.
"You're right. Sorry. I just forgot. I always do"
They already went through this, too. Ambrosius is good at keeping Ballister up to date, always happy to explain the situation, but sometimes things just... slip his mind. It isn't anyone's fault, but it's still annoying when it happens.
"Sorry, too. For calling you a twat"
Ballister leans down, tentatively. Ambrosius doesn't hesitate to lift himself up, and they share a quick kiss. All is forgiven.
"So... what now?"
Silently, they both try their best to think. Ballister's mind is blank, just screaming at him to get a sword and go decapitate however wrote the fuckin rules. He ignores that voice, per usual. The fucker's probably dead, by now, anyway.
Ambrosius is the one who gasps, and smiles all of the sudden, so bright that the sun should be jealous. He bounces on the bed a couple of times, clapping to get his boyfriend's attention.
"We're both idiots!"
Ballister frowns, confused. An awkward smile is all he can offer Ambrosius, wondering if his man finally went crazy.
"I see no correlation between our supposed idiocy and the problem at hand, Amber."
"Come on, Bal! This is easy. I have the best plan" he giggles, like a kid that just got a new toy. Ballister can tell that this plan probably will suck and get them in more danger than necessary. And he's so on board. Always on board, when it comes to Ambrosius.
"Which is?"
"You!" Exclaims Ambrosius, rolling his eyes. "You're my plan"
"Excuse me?"
"You're going to compete and win, Bal"
Perhaps he never should've become a knight, that way he never would've fallen in love with this absolute trainwreck of a man. Is it too late to go back to being a random kid and forget about all this? Probably.
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