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safely-in-vhagars-belly · 1 year

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Delicously dark! Aemond x OC (Snow falls, Chapter 16: Await our turn.

CONCEPT: You are Willa Wyldewoods, lady of Wyldecrest. After being denied your hand in marriage, Aemond murders your family and makes himself Lord of WyldeCrest, out-powering you. He claims you as his wife and spoils, He commands and goes over your home now and as you will learn right now: No one is safe under his reign. Not even you.

WARNINGS: Painplay, smut, rough sex, himulation, aemond being an asshole to his wife, dom/sub themes, cussing, torture, pleasure control and denial and other dark smuttish things but its consentual, spankings, choking, aemond getting off on willa/oc's pain and being a sadist, oc being a sub. NECROMANY AND MAJOR CHARACTER DEAD AS WELL AS LOSS OF A CHILD

You will never forget the day that you found out that your mother had died. It was snowing as always. Aemond was just a guest. You weren't married to him yet.

Until he took hold of the castle and everyone in it. You remember crying when he married you, and you remember mourning your parents. You felt alone and scared. The duties forced upon you were heavy. You were not only a wife now, you were to be a mother, a plaything and a whore to him as well. He was not gentle and kind, and the first few times hurt.

You wished you could have your mother to hold you. And here she is. Alive and well. She smiles at you, lowering the hood from her head. "It has been quite some time, Willa." She speaks your name as sweet as usual but you fear her.

You back away. What you are seeing can not be real. Your mother is dead. Aemond is dead. This must be a trick. Or worse... It has to be ungodly magic. "Aemond killed you." You mutter.

You do not understand. Aemond did not only kill her, Aemond cut her body into pieces and send it to your enemies. How she is standing right in front of you should not be possible. "Mother, I do not trust you."

The former lady of WyldeCrest grins. "I did not expect anything less. Let me explain a few things to you." She gestures to Aemond's dagger in your hand and to the bloodmoon above your heads.

"What do you know of my old family home?" You feel your face frown in confusion. What does her house have to do with any of this? Yet you anwser.

You heard stories that your mother was injured when she was young by a fire. Her family was killed. Your father took her into his house for shelter and the two of them fell in love. They had your brother Mychal, your brother Brand and finally later, you.

Your teeth are clenching as you speak. You do not like that she is avoiding the questions. "That it was in the riverlands. It was called the Beakers and the sigil is a seabass."

There is that scoffing smile again. But it is almost painful and breakable. "I see you remember the tales I told you." She sounds proud.

You are insulted that you think you would forget that. "Of course. You are my mother." At least you hope so. "Can you tell me the brief version?" Your mother smirks.

Your head is hurting. "All you need to know is that you are lady Willa WyldeWoods. But you are also part of my house. House DolkBurg." That does not explain enough to you.

It is not enough for you. "And the fact that my husband was dead and you were too?" You demand an answer. You grab her arm. You stop when there is blood on your fingers. From when you cut her.

She sighs. "I studied with a witch, as is common in my house. In Ashai. We learned forbidden magic. But all magic has a price. Only death can pay for life. I knew your father was dead. So I bonded his soul to mine. I lived, but Aemond thought he had killed me." She used your father as a weapon to survive.

There is one thing that sits uneasy. If only dead can pay for life; how come Aemond is alive? Who paid that price? And there is one other thing bothering you...

She did not come back for you. Not once. You feel tears sting. "Then... Who paid the price this time?" You eye Aemond uncertainly. It can't be you. You would have been dead by now.

She reaches out and touches your belly. "Your son did. I linked the two of them when I heard Aemond was dying. Your son withered away and saved his life." Withered away. As if he was a mere weed.

You glare as you bawl your fists. "Your son was going to die either way." She reassures you when you glare at her through tears. "He was going to be a stillborn. You are lucky he got cut out before you had to tell Aemond that his precious son had died. I am not sure he would've taken that well." She chuckles to herself, but you are silent. There is truth in that.

You see the truth now. Your mother is a witch. "It was you, wasn't it? Who saved my life all those years ago? When I was ill?" They called it a miracle. You know better now. It was dark magic.

She caresses your face. "Yes, my darling. I did." She speaks sweet as your sigil, but her eyes are full of warnings and threats.

There is another thing you don't understand. If she cared enough to keep you alive, why bring back the man that hurt you time after time? "Why did you revive Aemond?"

She sighs dramatically. "I like the idea of my daughter sitting that throne. The king is not bright. He is unloved, and tragedy is not done playing with them yet. Move at the right moment, and the throne will be yours."

"What if I don't want the throne?" She shrugs at your choice of words.

There is one last thing to be asked. "Who paid that price when I was sick?" You ask. "I died. Who saved my life?"

You already put two and two together, but you need to hear it from her lips. She grabs your face to manipulate you further into thinking that she loves you. "Your brother did." You just know whom she is referring to. Her own boy of four summers old died mysteriously the same winter you were born.

She killed your own brother. Her own flesh and blood. "You killed Mychal?" You can't believe it. He was only four summers old and innocent.

Your mother rolls her eyes whining a bit. "Do not look at me like that, Willa. I was raised differently. Men are incapable of carrying on our tradition. Therefore, we either must give them away or put them out of their misery." You think of Brand. Your other brother. Was she planning to kill him as well?

You let your tears fall. "I will never use this magic." You vow.

She sighs as if she pities you. "Willa, that is good because you can't use that magic. You were born during the northern full moon during a snowstorm. It clouded the bloodtree. Our sigil."

She takes two steps back. "Take good care of your husband, Willa." She vanishes yet again.

---- You slept terrible. Nightmares of the assassins haunted you. But also nightmares of Aemond and your stillborn son. Of Your mother and her dark magic.

When the first few rays of daylight shine, you sit up in the bed. Aemond is gone. Your first instinct is to panic, but you know he is safe and already up.

You get dressed, accepting that you won't be sleeping anymore. The door of your room is opened. You sit up straight and proper like a lady. Your husband enters.

You wish him a good morrow, but you notice there are new walls between the two of you now. His voice cuts through you as if it is a blade made of steel. "We are leaving." Leaving?

You shake your head, terrified of that thought. "Aemond, wait..." You rapidly get out of the bed and rush to him. You pull him into your arms and just feel his heartbeat. "It is early."

There is a dark smirk on his lips. A smirk you haven't missed at all. His hands reach for your ass squeezing it tightly beneath your gown. "O, I am well aware."He groans in your ear. "Grab a small bag. We are leaving this frozen shithole." You gawk insulted.

You can't bear the thought of leaving home. "No. We will talk about this." You promise him and yourself. "I am not your plaything. I am your wife. You will listen to me as well." You two made too much progress.

He chuckles, amused as he slowly steps forward. "I see how it is. One little act of kindness, and we are right back where we started with your training." Fear grows in your belly as well as excitement and wetness.

You force yourself to be brave and to glare at him. "Aemond, I understand that you are scared..." You try to see it from his point of view. He was attacked here. He died here. He lost his son here.

He growls before taking hold of your throat. He applies more pressure than usual. He wants to hurt you. "I am not scared!" Aemond raises his voice at you when you try to break free. He leans in and whispers in your ear. "You are. You always have been. I bet you never set foot outside these woods! You have no one left but me, little wife. You will obey me and follow my orders!" He is so angry that there is a bit of spit in your face.

You whine pathetically. "Aemond, you hurt me." You mutter, and you know it is no good.

He finally drops you as if you are something dirty. Something rotten. He clicks his fingers at you as if you are a dog that he tells to lay down. "Good. Bed. Now." He commands you, slightly narrowing his eyes when you do not obey right away.

You do not move an inch. Your mouth tells him something dangerous. Something disastrous. Aemond hates setbacks. Aemond hates disobedience. Aemond hates everything that might interrupt his perfect plotted plans. "No!" You speak. "You will not have me. You will sit down and we will talk about this as is the right and healthy thing to do!"

There is not a single muscle in his face that moves. No smirk is made. No smile is cracked. No eyes bat or blink. He just stares at you calmly. Without any emotion. "Undress." He says as if he did not hear your protests. He folds his hands on his back and waits for you to strip. He thinks you will do the right thing and yield.

Perhaps you can distract him. He was on the edge of dead. "You said you wanted to leave? Shouldn't I pack?" You ask him.

He pins you down on the bed. You struggle. You try to fight him off as he pins you on the matrass. He rips off his eyepatch and forces you to kiss his scarred socket. You whimper weak and terrified. "The only that you should be wrapping is my cock when your whore mouth takes it in." You struggle as he keeps pressing you down, bending your arms causing tears in your eyes.

He smiles and makes sure his erection is known to you. "You feel that, little wife? You feel my cock press against your little legs? You must be so fucking pleased. You are exactly where you want to be, aren't you? You want to get fucked. You want that little cunny sticky and dirty." He rips the gown open; revealing your breasts. Your nipples tell enough. You lower your head in shame and cover them.

He leans in closer to your breasts and takes both of your hands. He rips them from your breasts, exposing your nipples to him. He chuckles as he sees the effect he has on you. "My little sinful pet. Your cunt must be wet too. I think, I think I'll take a little look myself." You are wet. There is no denying that. You won't make this easy for him.

You are, however, pinned down easily, and your gown is ripped from under now, too. You feel the cold air from the window tickle your sensitive cunt. He leans in closer and closer until his lips leave a soft teasing and core shaking kiss. There is a weak sound leaving your mouth.

He is amused by you."Yes, I bet your little cunt just cries for gentleness. I haven't been gentle with you, have I now, pet?" You think of the fucking and the spanking. Gentle is not a word to describe him.

He grins at your anger and your pouting lips. He knows you are well stimulated and ready for his cock. He is waiting on purpose. "How does your master fuck you?" He whispers in your ear. "Show me. Show how beautiually you can obey me." You shiver at his requests. He begs for you in a way.

But you won't bow. He licks his lips, tasting your wetness as he moans."O, a silent pet. I like silent pets. Father used to discipline me when I was a child. You know what he told me when I once ripped a page in his old history book on accident?" He grins. "He told me that everyone has a breaking point."

Your legs are spread as you end up on your ass, legs in the air. Your legs are spread as wide as possible before he slowly blows hot air at your entrance. Your body likes that.

Aemond chuckles. "Keep them spread." He warns you with a soft slap on your cunny. You want to tear up in pain but instead keep obeying him like a good girl, keeping your arms wrapped around your legs.

He returns briefly. Your cunt clenches when you see your husband again. He holds an exciting new toy, a pair of handcuffs. But they are not for your hands. He clicks them with a smirk, causing you to flinch.

He smiles. He chains your feet together so you can't close them anymore. And your hands are next. He watches you intruged. "How does my little pet feel?" He asks, gently stroking your entrance, dipping just the top of his finger in. You feel your wet hot cunt swallow it eagerly and you fight every instinct to roll your hips to let him sink in deep. To statisify that need deep inside of you.

His finger makes little circles. "I am upset with you. Your defiance is disappointing. Especially since I granted you such a big reward..."

Your scoff is interrupted as he eases the finger down slowly stroking you, eagerly scrapping you out as if you are bottle of honey he can't wait to taste. He brings his soaked fingers to his thin lips and licks off your drips. You moan at the sight.

Aemond does not allow you to enjoy it for long. "Yield, little pet." He tells you instead.

You lower your head. He is pleased with your surrender. "Good girl. Do you accept me?" He asks, taking off his belt. He drops it before working on his pants. You start to pant and nod.

Your response is weak. "Y-yes, I accept you."

He laughs as if he has gone mad. "Good. But now I need to hear one last sentence." He rubs his cock. You watch in awe. You should be doing that. With your tongue. You should taste his precum and you should be the one to make him come.

You beg, once more. "I accept you, my master. Please fuck me." You beg. You are still angry. Of course you are. But you need him. He smiles. He has won.

He takes off his coat and his vest. You watch as his expensive clothing ends up on the floor. "I will fuck you. Close your eyes." He tells you. You wonder how he will do that, with you in that position. He takes hold of your chin and releases only when your eyelids are closed obediently.

You hear nothing but the silence. The wind blowing outside and your own breathing. Until you hear something rapidly being swinged and the sound of leather cracking on skin.

The pain is unrecognisable and humiliating.Your cunt hurts as if someone lit it on fire. "Ow!" Your eyes burst open as tears fall down your cheeks. Aemond has taken his belt and it howers over your cunt. He hits again and somehow seeing it happen makes the pain even worse.

Aemond grins when you sob in pain. "I never wanted to fuck you. You like that. You deserve to suffer." He tells you. "Now, my little pet. I have seen enough of this hell. You will pack a bag, because we will leave before sundown." He promises you when putting his clothing back on. He is going to leave you here. Like this.

"H-husband? Aemond? You forgot the cuffs." You remind him awkwardly. He smirks.

"Your maids can help you with that. I like the sight of your little cunt red and swollen and just begging for me."

He leaves with a heartless chuckle.

--- Bertha finds you. She has unchained you like you asked but she is clearly judging you. You tell her that Aemond wants to move back to King's Landing and that your heart tells you to remain here. "My lady, you should flee him. Just run." She tells you when you pack your favourite dresses for the journey. You also pack your stuffed little fox.

You dryly point to your sapphire eye tattoo. "Yes, because that went well the last time. Aemond will find me no matter where I go. He is determined and stubborn."

You watch as hope and light die. You are handed a familair blue leather covered book. "Your drawing book, my lady. You always were drawing." You haven't glanced at your drawings for years.

The first few pages are full of attempted foxes. It was the first animal you wanted to draw. The next page is full of hearts and stars and other shapes. You smile as you watch your artstyle improve and quickly browse the pages.

Until you see it. Your smile dies. The final page of the book resembles a terrifying drawing. You try to make sense of it as you sit down watching the book. You see a large bloodred tree. You never saw it before. But you know that is your mother's sigil.

You ignore it for now slapping it shut. You shelf the book. "I don't need my drawings in King's Landing." You at least hope so. The drawings are not good enough to even ask stones for.

-- Aemond waits for you by the carriage that evening. You have a bag with you and wear your favourite fox coat. He opens the carriage for you and helps you in. He follows inside himself. Guards escort the carriage. The carriage is an old heirloom from your family.

Your husband either does not know, does not care, or has no desire to wait for a Targaryen carriage to arrive.

You put your bag by your feet and sit down on the cold fabric of the carriage. Aemond sits on the other bench. "I asked Bertha to keep an eye at the house." Aemond tells you. "A few guards will remain here as well. We don't want that whore to take this hell." You know he refers to his sister. The Queen Rhaenyra.

It is odd. The assassins said she was behind this. They said it themselves. But you have the feeling, based on what your father told you about her grace that she would never even entertain such a horrible thought to kill a child.

That is more Aemond's style. But you know he wanted heirs. He can't shut up about it whenever you two fuck. He boasts about impregnating you as if you are his little pet and fucking you until you birth him seven sons, for every kingdom a son.

You saw his surprise. You saw him bleed and die. There is no way he could have planned that.

Or could he?

He breaks from a lusty stare at your breasts. He puts his legs up, and with just his knee, he stimulates you through your clothing. He winks and pats his knee. "I am glad she finally has learned some manners. Now, will you show me what you learned, or do you like the spankings?" You are still wet with desire. You know he can make you feel delirious with lust.

Your cheeks burn with shame and desire. You want to crawl on his leg and feel that knee fuck you through your clothes. You want to feel him softly slap and spank your ass. "It's alright to admit it, my little pet. Just tell me that you love my spankings, and I am more than happy to spank you." You won't make this easy.

You think of how he spanked. How hard he smacked you with a belt. "You already spanked me." You remind him with a eyeroll.

That was a mistake. Aemond's good eye narrows in displeasure. "Ah, she talks." He smirks slyly and victorious. "I thought I married a mute for a moment there." The mute and the half blind. You would make a lovely couple.

Another silence follows. The carriage ride is unpleasant and uncomfortable. Aemond uses this time to make up for what you refuse to do in the morning. He oggles you as if he is a little boy with his hands in the sweets he can't wait to taste. You look at your hands and refuse to pay him any mind.

Hours later, Aemond suddenly sits up and watches you as you play with your necklace. You are nervous from his gawking. "I bet you never been this far from home before. Have you?" He asks.

You are surprised by that. Why does he even care? You shake your head, letting go of your necklace. "No, I have not."

He eyes the window. "Hm. What do you think of the view?" What is there to think of? You passed hundreds of little villages and countless trees. They will never be home. The air, the clouds even the way the carriage rocks is different than WyldeCrest.

You do not respond. He growls. "Shall I tell you what you think?" You like to see him try. He does not understand anything about you.

You scoff. Let's see him try "You are welcome to try."

Aemond looks out the windo, judging the better clothing of the people that have come out to see what is happening. "You think: This is far more civilised than my own home. You worry you will stand out. You will stand out. We are from different kingdoms, you and I." You do your best to not sigh scoff or roll your eyes.

He smiles at that. "But, if you keep being a good pet and shut up that little mouth of yours, I might be able to sell the story to my family that I finally tamed you." He says. You will not be paraded around as his pet.

He notices your displeasure. He reads you as if you are a book. He sinks back on the bench and pushes his crotch up a bit before slowly unlacing his trousers. You gulp.

You watch anxiously as if a monster can come out any moment now. "I am a little bored. We have hours left. I think I have a fun little task for you to keep you occupied." You once were innocent but not anymore. You know what he thinks of.

You grab a book from your bag and show him the cover. The pirate princess. "I brought a book for me to read." You tell him excitedly. Aemond takes the book from you, pretends to read it, and throws it out of the window. You yelp, staring at your beloved book as it lands within your reach.

You open the door. "My book! Please get me my book!" You beg the guard riding close to the carriage. "Please, it's a heirloom." The only thing left from your grandmother.

Aemond chuckles amused as you panic and start crying as a little helpless girl. "You are begging the wrong man for your book." Him. You should beg him. You would rather not, but you want your book.

What is more important: reminding him angry you are from moving or getting your book back?

You swallow your pride and fears and beg him. "Please, husband, return me my book. Please." You beg pathetic just as he likes. Aemond clicks his tongue and points to his feet. You sink off the bench, begging at his feet. "Please, my good sweet master. Return my book to me."

His voice is heavy with lust and arousal as he smirks, slowly unbuttoning your vest so he can see your breasts poke through your gown. "What do I get in exchange?"

You have nothing left for him to take. "My gratitude and a kiss?" You ask.

He scoffs, getting in your face with his own. Your nose is pressed against his as he forces his lips on your left ear. He hisses. "I am Prince Aemond of house Targaryen. Do you think that will statisify me?" No.

It was all the ideas you had. "No." You admit, hanging your head, eyes stinging with little tears. You avoid looking at him when the tears roll. You know it's stupid, but for a while, that book was your only friend. And he threw it out as if it was nothing.

He sighs. "I would act quick if I were you. You can pick up your little book, and when you get here, I will collect what you owe me." He tells the guards to stop the carriage, and they obey him.

You rush out of the carriage, jumping out and running down the road following the traces of the carriage to find your beloved book.

You find the book near a river. It is not soaked, but there is sand on the cover. You whipe the cover clean before rushing back to the carriage. You quietly wonder as you approach if Aemond is that cruel to tell his horses to speed it up so you end up running behind him.

You don't see him near the guards near the carriage. Your heart sinks. Until you spot him lecturing a guard. The guard seems embarrassed as Aemond grabs him by the throat. You overhear just a little bit, but it's enough to understand. "Do not fucking dare to aim your pathetic crossbow at her, unless you want to have it showed down your throat, you scum." He warns the guard.

The guard is quick to nod and even drops his crossbow. He trembles. You remind your husband you are back. "My prince. Shall we continue our journey? Surely your time is better invested elsewhere?"

Aemond chuckles as if you challenged him. You quickly mutter. "His commander should discipline him. You are above him." He nods as if approving that. He sees the book in your hand. You clutch it tightly.

He smirks, scoffing. "Ah. The little book that is worth so much trouble." He says. His brow briefly twists with confusion before rising slightly above his socket. He rereads the title and the author. "I think I know this one." He says, finally.

You hand it over. "You do? You read?" You ask, surprised. You know he can read. But you did not know that it was a hobby of him.

He flips the pages and eagerly reads the words. "Of course. Reading is combat training for the mind, little fox." He stops reading halfway in the book, and a small sly smirk grows on his lips.

You remember reading the book when you were little but also when you were a woman grown. You remember the tingles your belly made when reading how the pirate and the princess finally made love.

Judging his smirk, he is reading that right now. You worry what he'll think of it. He must think you are improper and a slut.

You receive a soft spanking on your behind, causing you to yelp as Aemond grabs you. Guards respectfully turn their heads away, granting you as much peace and privacy as you are going to get.

He leans in before kissing your mouth, muttering something in your ear. "O, you dirty minded little thing." It is an insult, but you feel praised and loved.

You blink. "What are you talking about, husband?" You act as if you do not know. Aemond sees your shaking legs and your trembling hands. He notices the change in your voice and the way you play with your necklace, avoiding his eye.

Aemond chuckles. "There's profanity in here. Quite the inappropriate reading material for any lady, especially highborn ones. I will think about this."

You find it unfair. He gets to fuck with any woman he wants and you are punished for reading a book. "We'll talk in the carriage, little pet." He warns before forcing you in. You hang your head and obey sitting down as Aemond holds the book.

He pats his leg. You sit down on his lap as he holds you close, sighting deeply. "My naughty little pet. You keep surprising me." That does not sound good.

He is going to throw it out. "Please don't throw it out, Aemond. This book is maybe sinful and against what you want for me, but I am quite attached to the story." You beg him.

Your fox coat is pushed off your shoulders. He takes off your necklace, too. He makes sure you sit comfortable before rubbing your back. "Did it make your tummy tingle when you first read it? Was this the first time you felt as a woman?" He groans darkly in your ear.

Your mouth opens, but you hold back the whimpers. He wants to know about the first time you enjoyed the book more than you should have. You nervously touch your dress, pulling a loose treat. "As a woman? You confuse me, husband.' You lie smoothly.

He knows you are lying and avoiding his question. "Let me simplify: Did this little book make your little cunny wet for the first time?" He sings softly in your ear, enchanting you and turning your mind to dust with every single tune.

You do not dare admit it out loud but nod with an ashamed red blush on both your cheeks. He likes hearing that. "Describe that experience to me."

You bite down on your lip. "It was confusing and scary at first. But it felt good..." Your voice is soft as a whisper. You doubt he even heard it.

He rubs your knees to comfort you. "Yes, it usually is, isn't it? Tell me, when you picked up the book, did you know you would stumble upon that filth?" You would never even dare to look at books that improper.

You often blushed and felt uncomfortable as your Septa prepared you for marriage life by telling you patiently what a man does with his wife on his wedding night. She did not prepare you for Aemond in the slightest.

You shake off that memory. "N-no, it was a surprise, and It shocked me, husband. I hoped they would marry first and perhaps defeat their foes and live happily ever after." You confess. You feel foolish right after that confession. He must think you are not only lusty but also stupid.

Aemond smirks. "Tell me, did you know what a cock was when it was described to you?" He firmly rubs your back. "Did you learn another word for it?"

You wish. Your father used that word a lot to insult man who would not listen."No, husband. My father had a..foul mouth. I am afraid I know more improper words than a sailor." You admit softly.

You expect him to lecture you but instead he laughs at that. You allow yourself to smile as well. He becomes serious again. "Did the pirate ever disciplined his princess?" He wonders.

You think he did not. Not once. Not ever. Not the way Aemond disciplines you. "Why would he, husband? He is her true love." You say. "He loves her too much to hurt her."

You want to say something else, but Aemond silences you as he leaves a trail of kisses on your neck. You shiver. He sucks on your collarbone before leaving a bit of possessive little kisses. "Oh, little pet. So deliciously naive." He moans.

You nod but stop that the moment he possessively bites in your neck, leaving a mark. You whimper and moan at the same time. You like the pain but love the pleasure.

Your husband makes sure you understand why he disciplines you."Sometimes we don't discipline people because we hate them, sometimes we discipline them because we love them." He gives you a lot to think about.

Your husband leans back and pulls you on top of him before gently tapping your nose. "Now, my little pet. Your master wants his promised reward for giving you your book back."

18 notes · View notes

ramonadecember · 8 months

Note

Cain

- Fir 1, 5

- Holly 3, 5

- Ivy 4, 5

- Mistletoe 2

- Pine 1 , 2

- Birch 2, 3

oc questions.

thanks for sending more! :D snow day, so gonna be working on these.

Fir 1: Cain is definitely far more of a pessimist than an optimist. He doesn’t tend to see the positive in people or situations, always thinking about who could screw him over or what could go wrong. He’s also the type to say that he’s not being overly negative/pessimistic, and that he’s just being ‘realistic.’ There’s a lot less disappointment that way, and if it all works out fine, then hey, Cain gets to be pleasantly surprised.

Fir 5: He doesn’t let setbacks slow him down. Cain is gonna curse about it and grit his teeth and barrel through like the bull of a man that he is. Letdowns are much the same. He doesn’t expect much out of most people, and it means that he can move on fairly easily/didn’t set himself up for disappointment in the first place. But as for things that actually count as outright ‘betrayals’… Cain has very few he actually puts his trust in, so when those people go against him, it more than stings.

Holly 3: Cain doesn’t make it a habit of taking on harm or burdens so that someone else doesn’t have to. In his mind, that’s their problem, they should deal with it. The exceptions to that would have been the gang as a whole who he would have been a little more willing to for, or his brother who he would have done just about anything for. And since they’re out of the picture, there’s no longer exceptions… until Isaiah comes a long and changes just about everything for Cain. Ultimately Cain will go to great lengths to keep Isaiah from coming to any sort of harm.

Holly 5: lmao Cain for sure feels let down by those he thought should have but ‘protected’ him, but should have had his back/been on his side. Namely, the entirety of his gang. He thought them of all people wouldn’t believe he was the one who killed his brother, but that assumption nearly ends up with him losing his own life in the process, and at the hands of the people he trusted most.

Ivy 4: It’s with a bit of a heavy heart that Cain would say he doesn’t really have much of a connection to where he was born and raised. His parents are still there, but he was never their favorite child, and since his brother’s death, it’s only been more strained. He’s… not sure if they believe the stories that he was the one who made that death happen, but it feels like everyone else does, so ‘home’ is a place that’s just… best avoided.

Ivy 5: Cain doesn’t exactly cut people out of his life for ‘outliving their usefulness,’ but he is more likely to surround himself with people who can be of use to him in the first place. He also remembers those who have done favors for him, and always makes sure to pay them back. It’s hard for Cain to believe that people do things for others solely out of the kindness of their heart without expecting anything in return, and he doesn’t want to feel like he owes anyone.

Mistletoe 2: Lmao, no. Cain doesn’t find it easy to make friends. He’s… not a very nice or personable guy. The majority of his friends he’s made vicariously through his brother, who softened Cain enough to make him more palatable to others lmao. Plus, later in life, that ran with a rougher crowd in general, so Cain’s… questionable personality didn’t stand out as much, though he was still def the biggest sob among them. So he really can’t understand why pretty little angel of a human being Isaiah is so bent on befriending him…

Pine 1 + 2: Putting these two together because the answer re: Cain’s worst physical and emotional wound comes from the same thing. Cain had just lost his brother, which tore the heart right out of him, despite how he outwardly may have seemed, and despite any conflicts there may have been between them. So he was already struggling with that only to sense unrest amongst the rest of the gang. Cut to them (as mentioned above, the people he thought he could trust the most…) shooting him and beating him near to death before then leaving him there to let the elements finish the job. It’s a miracle he’s still alive. Recovery took quite a bit of time, during which time he had to pretend he wasn’t some big, bad outlaw to the townsfolk that took him in and took care of him, but the betrayal might have hurt more than any of the actual injuries, and that takes even longer to recover from.

Birch 2: Initially Cain thinks more like… that if you hit rock bottom, you stay there, there’s no building yourself back up. He assumed that’s where he was headed, can’t live the way he does for forever. SO when he does in fact hit his rock bottom, he thinks that’s it’s for him. It takes some time and a lot of kindness from the community that took him in to realize that maybe it isn’t. So Cain ultimately believes that’s what has to happen to change your life, he’s a proponent of learning lessons the hard way and stuff, but then he learns that when it comes to Isaiah that doesn’t apply. Cain sees Isaiah starting to go down a rough path, and he does his best to stop t from happening, not thinking those lessons (ones he’s learned in the past) are ones that Isaiah needs to learn if he can prevent it.

Birch 3: Cain likes to think he can just walk off his injuries, act like the big tough guy and all that. But he is only human, and on top of that he’s not as young as he once was… not that he’ll admit to it or let a person get away with pointing it out. It means there’s a lot of overexerting himself and doing things he shouldn’t that end up just making injuries worse before they get better.

#send me aaaaall the questions #oc: cain quinn #red dead online #red dead redemption #oc tag #oc memes #ask memes

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problemswithbooks · 2 years

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So, I having a sinking feeling ch. 362 is going to be another one that marks a downward shift in writing quality similar to how Izuku getting Black Whip did.

Here’s the thing I just don’t think that this situation is good no matter what happens next.

1. Bakugou is really dead and stays dead: As one of the most important characters in the story, only being second to Izuku his death was rather anticlimactic. Izuku’s not even there, it has no real connection to his character arc, and it doesn’t even get to take out his opponent with his sacrifice. It’s essentially meaningless from a story telling stand point.

2. Bakugou is really dead but he comes back to life: Either he gets revived by Eri or something, or the story has Bakugou be special in someway, like being connected to the second user, or something to do with OfA. Bringing back Bakugou from the dead renders death less meaningful because it shows that the author would find ways to bend the story to back pedal that choice if they felt like it. Yet having Bakugou be brought back due to some special attribute is no better because then it gives him canon plot armor and suddenly makes any fight with his character have way less stakes. It would also be terrible if what brings him back is tied to the first Movie because that pulls another Kurogiri/Shirakumo thing, where suddenly outside material is needed to fully understand what’s going on and it’s emotional impact. BNHA isn’t a follow series like say, Boruto is to Naruto; outside marital shouldn’t be needed to read this story.

3. Bakugou isn’t dead at all: It turns out be nothing more then a cliffhanger to draw in readers before a week break. Even if he is ‘dead’ but say Best Jeanist goes over the first couple panels of the next chapter and manages to bring him back through more realistic means (a stopped heart doesn’t always kill a person as long as it starts again within a certain amount of time) I think this counts. To me that seems like a crap tactic to get readers invested without actually fallowing through with what’s been set up. He did this with Hawks and Twice, leaving a chapter off with what seemed like Hawks about to kill an beaten Twice, yet next chapter had Hawks think about how he was actually just trying to subdue him. Sure he still had Hawks kill Twice but it wasn’t while Twice was on the floor, completely unable to move, which is way worse. Hori back pedaled and had the situation be more grey. If he does this with Bakugou who is always top of the popularity pulls, it really comes across as Hori trying to tug at heart strings without losing his cash cow, which is kind of shitty.

So, yeah, sort of worried this going to end poorly no matter what choice Hori makes. Hopefully I’m just not thinking of something better he could do, and I’m wrong. Or in the very least it’s fun to watch, even if the story isn’t as good because of it, sort like Izuku’s many Quirks.

#bnha spoilers #bnha 362 #bakugou katsuki #bnha #mha #I'm not a huge fan of Bakugou #but he deserves better than this #and him coming back to life would also make any other later deaths sting a little worse #because if Bakugou can get a last minute reprieve #why not X or Y character?#like I've seen people say All Might will end up dying instead #but why?#I get he's the mentor and they die most of the time #but his arc seems to be about learning to live despite not being 'useful' anymore #so killing him off is kind of shit too #and the big three have had some dead flags as well #if one of them dies right after Bakugou gets a fake out death it seems really cheep #death fake outs just aren't a good choice #but killing him permanently is also weird because it didn't have the fan fair or story relevance #someone of Bakugou's importance should have #like it's very much not culmination of his character arc #if he's dead forever that's weird #even more so then say Enji dying before he sees touya #because he's an adult and was striving for that moment #showing that his character had reached the end growth moment #even if he didn't achieve his final goal #Bakugou hasn't really had that

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authorluvgxbby · 2 years

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hi are you able to make a part two for this post? :0 if not that’s fine!! im in love with ur writing

Genre: Angst, Angst/No Comfort

Part Two of TR characters x estranged!reader

Included Characters: Ran, Kokonoi, Kazutora

⚠️TW/CW⚠️: pure angst, mentions of death, cursing, mentions/suggestions of suicide and attempted suicide, gaslighting, jealousy, mild injury, depression, self-harm in Kazutora’s part, manipulation, mentions of obsessions, trauma

A/N: Per-request, here is a part two of TR characters who are jealous with estranged!reader. Buckle up and get your tissues ready, this is gonna hurt you just as much as it hurt me 🥲 Enjoy!

Ran

“Seriously, y/n, you should go,” Rindou says softly, putting a hand on your shoulder to stop you from entering the club he and Ran owned. “No! Is Ran alright? I haven’t seen him in weeks and I’m worried sick!” you cry, trying to push past the younger Haitani, only for him to once again, gently pull you away from the club’s entrance by your shoulder. Frustrated, he grips your other shoulder, forcing you to still and face him, “y/n I know you're upset-” “I’m not!” you cut off. Rindou huffs before speaking up once again, “y/n I don’t want you to get hurt, please just go home and I can explain everything later.” “But, Rindou-” “God you’re so annoying,” a voice rings through the air, turning both yours and Rindou’s head to face the very root of the commotion between you two. Ran walks over to the two of you, gently patting Rindou on the shoulder to signal him to go back inside. Rindou’s grip tightens on your shoulder, hesitant to leave you to your demise, but he knew he couldn’t defy his brother. He lets go of you and walks back into the club. Gritting your teeth, you turn to Ran, “Ran, where have you been..,” you reach out to try to take his hand only for the dual-haired male to smack it away, “That’s none of your business.” “What?” Scoffing, he shakes his head before stepping closer to you, an unfamiliar anger radiates from him, an emotion that you’ve never seen directed at you before, “Are you fucking dumb or what? Can’t you see I don’t want you around anymore?” His words hurt, they hurt more than any stab wound or injury that could ever be inflicted on you. “Ran I…if there’s something I did wrong-” you were cut off with a slap to the face, the sudden action stinging your cheek raw. “I don’t want to see your pathetic face again. The only reason I was friends with you was because I felt sorry for you, but now I see why you didn’t have any in the first place.” That was all he said before walking off back into the brightly lit building, leaving you in the silence of the cold streets, with fresh wounds to mend all on your own.

That night you stayed awake thinking about Ran had said about being your friend out of pity and it broke your heart knowing damn well it was true

You never had any friends due to your reputation for being “clingy” and “two-faced smarty pants” so maybe that’s why Ran didn’t want to be around you anymore

When you would go to school, life was hell. Everyone would whisper rumors about what had happened between you and the older Haitani. “I heard they were fwb.” “He was probably friends with her because she’s the smartest student in the school.” “For someone so smart, she’s really dumb to associate with a Haitani!”

You barely ate or slept, obsessed with your studies and upholding the title of the “smartest student” because it was the only thing you had left.

Some days when you see Ran around in school, you feel angry at what he did to you, but would also feel jealous of the multiple friends he had around him wherever he went.

It was as if he was silently telling you, “You’ll always be nothing but know-it-all”

Sometimes Rindou would come by your house to tend to your health after seeing you lose so much weight and letting yourself go, but you’d make sure to lock your doors–and windows–so that you didn’t have to face him because of how stupid you felt after not listening to him.

If you had stayed home, if you had just listened to Rindou, would things have been different? Would you still have Ran as your only friend?

Kokonoi

“What are you doing?” I questioned Kokonoi. He grits his teeth, his eyes narrowing as he furrows his brows. Pouting, you take a seat across from him in the library, smirking at his attempts to try to ignore your presence. “For a gangster, you sure do act childish, Kokonoi,” you mock. Yet, Kokonoi remained focused on what he was reading. “What would Akane think of you now if she saw you living the life of a thug?” Slam! Slowly looking up from where his attention was focused, he finally greets your devious gaze with a murderous look. “What the hell do you want?” “It’s such a shame,” fauxed disappointment crosses your features, “you would’ve been quite the guy if you weren’t living the life of scum.” You calmly sigh as you pick up the book that your old friend had slammed on the table. Koko was livid, blood boiling and all, but he’d be damned if he lost his composure and gave you the satisfying humiliation you sought in him, “I could say the same about you. Despite being the top student at your school, you have the mind of scum yourself,” he remarks. Chuckling, you shake your head, “No wonder why Inupi hasn’t abandoned you yet.” Your face drops, dead eyes boring into Kokonoi, “You’re so pitiful, even for a money-making genius.” On the outside, it would seem as if your words bounced right off of the collected male. However, deep down, his heart was bleeding slowly as you ridiculed him and exploited his trauma for your own benefit. He refused to give in to your sadistic satisfactions. Stubborn as he may be, Koko could never ignore or refuse the pain that came with your sharp words.

You and Kokonoi had fallen out of touch after the death of your friend Akane, due to the fact that you blamed him for just rescuing Inui and not Akane.

Both of you were smart, and were complete geniuses when it came to making money. And, despite being on bad terms with each other, you both silently competed with one another as to who could earn more money when the opportunity arose.

And, sure, you highly disliked Koko for his obsessiveness with Akane, but what really topped it off was when he had dragged Inui into the life of delinquency with him.

Sometimes, you’d wonder if Koko only stayed with Inupi because he looked so much like his sister, slowly coming to the realization that he never moved on from Akane.

You would worry that he’d possibly get Inupi killed due to his stubbornness and obsession, so from then on you did everything in your power to stop his efforts of success, even if it meant holding Akane's death over his head.

Fun fact: Your just as obsessed with Inupi as Koko is

When you see Inupi around school, you try to turn him against Kokonoi and try to convince him to come back to school and quit living as a thug.

Kokonoi does the same, but tries to manipulate him into believing that he’ll help him revive the Black Dragons to the way they are again.

Kazutora

“I’ll kill him,” Kazutora mutters as he throws another dart at Mikey’s picture. Rolling your eyes, you continue to tend to your studies on the floor. “Could you keep it down, I’m trying to study.” A sigh escapes your lips as you witness yet another dart pierce the picture of the young gang leader in the photo. “What do you even have against Mikey, he knows you didn’t mean-” “How the hell would you know?!” he suddenly shouts, his shadow swallowing your small frame as he towers over you with a hateful aura. You keep calm, gently placing your things down as you stand up to challenge the duel- hair colored boy. “Because if he thought you did it on purpose, he would’ve killed you by now.” He scoffs, “So you're taking his side huh? What? You want me gone too?” he growled. “What? No! I’m just saying, you don’t have to resort to violence to solve your problems!” you shoot back. “If you just-” “NO!” his raised voice catches you off guard, completely freezing you in place. “Why the hell should I listen to you when you don’t even know what it’s like to be in my place?” he hisses, glaring daggers at your cowering figure. “You grew up with a fucking spoon on a fucking silver platter. Even now, you get anything and everything without having to fight or work for it.” Your lips trembled as tears threatened to spill from your eyes. “Kazutora…t-that’s not… ” “It is! You’re just a spoiled bitch that gets what she wants because you had friends to support you. You had parents to support you. But guess what, not everyone has the life you live, so don’t tell me how to deal with my problems when you've never been through your own. God, why does a girl like you even exist?” It was as if your whole world was shattering all at once. Why did he say that? Was it all really true? Warm streaks of tears cascaded down your face as you slowly broke down at your friend’s words. “Wow,” he scoffs, rolling his eyes, “what the fuck are you crying for? If you’re really this miserable over a few words, then why don’t you do the world a fucking favor and go die somewhere. The last thing someone wants is a crybaby goodie-two-shoes.” “Why, Kazutora?” you whimper, “why are you saying this, I didn’t mean to-” “Get out.” “W-what?” Growling, he grabs your wrist and pulls you toward the door of his house, “I said,” he throws you down on the concrete of his porch along with your things, “Get the hell out! Go away! Go kill yourself and leave me be!”

That day, you didn’t understand why Kazutora drove you away, but regardless it didn’t stop you from going into a depression.

No matter how much you tried to study to drive away your thoughts, it wouldn’t work.

You couldn’t sleep at night, feeling guilty about your upbringing and thinking how much Kazutora had suffered in his past as a kid, while you sat home with everything you needed while your parents took care of everything.

You developed the habit of often apologizing for things that weren’t your fault and your self-esteem had gone down a lot, so you were constantly putting yourself down.

You hadn’t seen Kazutora that much during school either, but he certainly saw you, as well as the way your other friends would crowd around you, asking about your day and how you were feeling and complimenting the newest clothes you were wearing. It made him more pissed off seeing how you had the life he never got to have and yet despite what you were feeling, you still had people to support you.

On rare occasions when you did see Kazutora around school, he’d insult you or flat out curse you out whenever you so much as looked at him. He hated you with a passion and the fact that you were seeking him out caused him to fester his hatred.

Eventually, he escalated to bullying you when it was clear you wouldn’t leave him alone and you’d just accept because you thought that you deserved it.

One day, Kazutora had ended up having a group of gang members beat you until sunrise and afterwards you went home and ended up cutting your wrists.

Your parents had to drive you to the hospital and when you had explained to them what happened and what you did, you never went back to school again and was homeschooled until further notice.

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neil-gaiman · 3 years

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How Did you come up with the first eve in the story about adams wives? I haven’t been able to find anything about her after I read it and I want to know if she’s an actual biblical character or just someone you made

She's from the Midrash. I learned about her as a 12 year old, from my barmitzvah teacher. There was a point in there, long after I'd put her into Sandman, where I was starting to think I'd imagined her, when I ran across her in Robert Graves's Hebrew Myths....

Excerpt from: The Hebrew Myths by Robert Graves and Raphael Patai (New York: Doubleday, 1964), pp 65-69

Chapter 10: Adam's Helpmeets

(a) Having decided to give Adam a helpmeet lest he should be alone of his kind, God put him into a deep sleep, removed one of his ribs, formed it into a woman, and closed up the wound, Adam awoke and said: 'This being shall be named "Woman", because she has been taken out of man. A man and a woman shall be one flesh.' The title he gave her was Eve, 'the Mother of All Living''. [1]

(b) Some say that God created man and woman in His own image on the Sixth Day, giving them charge over the world; [2] but that Eve did not yet exist. Now, God had set Adam to name every beast, bird and other living thing. When they passed before him in pairs, male and female, Adam-being already like a twenty-year-old man-felt jealous of their loves, and though he tried coupling with each female in turn, found no satisfaction in the act. He therefore cried: 'Every creature but I has a proper mate', and prayed God would remedy this injustice. [3]

(c) God then formed Lilith, the first woman, just as He had formed Adam, except that He used filth and sediment instead of pure dust. From Adam's union with this demoness, and with another like her named Naamah, Tubal Cain's sister, sprang Asmodeus and innumerable demons that still plague mankind. Many generations later, Lilith and Naamah came to Solomon's judgement seat, disguised as harlots of Jerusalem'. [4]

(d) Adam and Lilith never found peace together; for when he wished to lie with her, she took offence at the recumbent posture he demanded. 'Why must I lie beneath you?' she asked. 'I also was made from dust, and am therefore your equal.' Because Adam tried to compel her obedience by force, Lilith, in a rage, uttered the magic name of God, rose into the air and left him.

Adam complained to God: 'I have been deserted by my helpmeet' God at once sent the angels Senoy, Sansenoy and Semangelof to fetch Lilith back. They found her beside the Red Sea, a region abounding in lascivious demons, to whom she bore lilim at the rate of more than one hundred a day. 'Return to Adam without delay,' the angels said, `or we will drown you!' Lilith asked: `How can I return to Adam and live like an honest housewife, after my stay beside the Red Sea?? 'It will be death to refuse!' they answered. `How can I die,' Lilith asked again, `when God has ordered me to take charge of all newborn children: boys up to the eighth day of life, that of circumcision; girls up to the twentieth day. None the less, if ever I see your three names or likenesses displayed in an amulet above a newborn child, I promise to spare it.' To this they agreed; but God punished Lilith by making one hundred of her demon children perish daily; [5] and if she could not destroy a human infant, because of the angelic amulet, she would spitefully turn against her own. [6]

(e) Some say that Lilith ruled as queen in Zmargad, and again in Sheba; and was the demoness who destroyed job's sons. [7] Yet she escaped the curse of death which overtook Adam, since they had parted long before the Fall. Lilith and Naamah not only strangle infants but also seduce dreaming men, any one of whom, sleeping alone, may become their victim. [8]

(f) Undismayed by His failure to give Adam a suitable helpmeet, God tried again, and let him watch while he built up a woman's anatomy: using bones, tissues, muscles, blood and glandular secretions, then covering the whole with skin and adding tufts of hair in places. The sight caused Adam such disgust that even when this woman, the First Eve, stood there in her full beauty, he felt an invincible repugnance. God knew that He had failed once more, and took the First Eve away. Where she went, nobody knows for certain. [9]

(g) God tried a third time, and acted more circumspectly. Having taken a rib from Adam's side in his sleep, He formed it into a woman; then plaited her hair and adorned her, like a bride, with twenty-four pieces of jewellery, before waking him. Adam was entranced. [10]

(h) Some say that God created Eve not from Adam's rib, but from a tail ending in a sting which had been part of his body. God cut this off, and the stump-now a useless coccyx-is still carried by Adam's descendants. [11]

(i) Others say that God's original thought had been to create two human beings, male and female; but instead He designed a single one with a male face looking forward, and a female face looking back. Again He changed His mind, removed Adam's backward-looking face, and built a woman's body for it. [12]

(j) Still others hold that Adam was originally created as an androgyne of male and female bodies joined back to back. Since this posture made locomotion difficult, and conversation awkward, God divided the androgyne and gave each half a new rear. These separate beings He placed in Eden, forbidding them to couple. [13]

Notes on sources:

1. Genesis II. 18-25; III. 20.

2. Genesis I. 26-28.

3. Gen. Rab. 17.4; B. Yebamot 632.

4. Yalqut Reubeni ad. Gen. II. 21; IV. 8.

5. Alpha Beta diBen Sira, 47; Gaster, MGWJ, 29 (1880), 553 ff.

6. Num. Rab. 16.25.

7. Targum ad job 1. 15.

8. B. Shabbat 151b; Ginzberg, LJ, V. 147-48.

9. Gen. Rab. 158, 163-64; Mid. Abkir 133, 135; Abot diR. Nathan 24; B. Sanhedrin 39a.

10. Gen. II. 21-22; Gen. Rab. 161.

11. Gen. Rab. 134; B. Erubin 18a.

12. B. Erubin 18a.

13. Gen. Rab. 55; Lev. Rab. 14.1: Abot diR. Nathan 1.8; B. Berakhot 61a; B. Erubin 18a; Tanhuma Tazri'a 1; Yalchut Gen. 20; Tanh. Buber iii.33; Mid. Tehillim 139, 529.

Authors’ Comments on the Myth:

1. The tradition that man's first sexual intercourse was with animals, not women, may be due to the widely spread practice of bestiality among herdsmen of the Middle East, which is still condoned by custom, although figuring three times in the Pentateuch as a capital crime. In the Akkadian Gilgamesh Epic, Enkidu is said to have lived with gazelles and jostled other wild beasts at the watering place, until civilized by Aruru's priestess. Having enjoyed her embraces for six days and seven nights, he wished to rejoin the wild beasts but, to his surprise, they fled from him. Enkidu then knew that he had gained understanding, and the priestess said: 'Thou art wise, Enkidu, like unto a godl'

2. Primeval man was held by the Babylonians to have been androgynous. Thus the Gilgamesh Epic gives Enkidu androgynous features: `the hair of his head like a woman's, with locks that sprout like those of Nisaba, the Grain-goddess.' The Hebrew tradition evidently derives from Greek sources, because both terms used in a Tannaitic midrash to describe the bisexual Adam are Greek: androgynos, 'man-woman', and diprosopon, 'twofaced'. Philo of Alexandria, the Hellenistic philosopher and commentator on the Bible, contemporary with Jesus, held that man was at first bisexual; so did the Gnostics. This belief is clearly borrowed from Plato. Yet the myth of two bodies placed back to back may well have been founded on observation of Siamese twins, which are sometimes joined in this awkward manner. The two-faced Adam appears to be a fancy derived from coins or statues of Janus, the Roman New Year god.

3. Divergences between the Creation myths of Genesis r and n, which allow Lilith to be presumed as Adam's first mate, result from a careless weaving together of an early Judaean and a late priestly tradition. The older version contains the rib incident. Lilith typifies the Anath-worshipping Canaanite women, who were permitted pre-nuptial promiscuity. Time after time the prophets denounced Israelite women for following Canaanite practices; at first, apparently, with the priests' approval-since their habit of dedicating to God the fees thus earned is expressly forbidden in Deuteronomy xxIII. I8. Lilith's flight to the Red Sea recalls the ancient Hebrew view that water attracts demons. 'Tortured and rebellious demons' also found safe harbourage in Egypt. Thus Asmodeus, who had strangled Sarah's first six husbands, fled 'to the uttermost parts of Egypt' (Tobit viii. 3), when Tobias burned the heart and liver of a fish on their wedding night.

4. Lilith's bargain with the angels has its ritual counterpart in an apotropaic rite once performed in many Jewish communities. To protect the newborn child against Lilith-and especially a male, until he could be permanently safeguarded by circumcision-a ring was drawn with natron, or charcoal, on the wall of the birthroom, and inside it were written the words: 'Adam and Eve. Out, Lilith!' Also the names Senoy, Sansenoy and Semangelof (meanings uncertain) were inscribed on the door. If Lilith nevertheless succeeded in approaching the child and fondling him, he would laugh in his sleep. To avert danger, it was held wise to strike the sleeping child's lips with one finger-whereupon Lilith would vanish.

5. 'Lilith' is usually derived from the Babylonian-Assyrian word lilitu, ,a female demon, or wind-spirit'-one of a triad mentioned in Babylonian spells. But she appears earlier as 'Lillake' on a 2000 B.G. Sumerian tablet from Ur containing the tale of Gilgamesh and the Willow Tree. There she is a demoness dwelling in the trunk of a willow-tree tended by the Goddess Inanna (Anath) on the banks of the Euphrates. Popular Hebrew etymology seems to have derived 'Lilith' from layil, 'night'; and she therefore often appears as a hairy night-monster, as she also does in Arabian folklore. Solomon suspected the Queen of Sheba of being Lilith, because she had hairy legs. His judgement on the two harlots is recorded in I Kings III. 16 ff. According to Isaiah xxxiv. I4-I5, Lilith dwells among the desolate ruins in the Edomite Desert where satyrs (se'ir), reems, pelicans, owls, jackals, ostriches, arrow-snakes and kites keep her company.

6. Lilith's children are called lilim. In the Targum Yerushalmi, the priestly blessing of Numbers vi. 26 becomes: 'The Lord bless thee in all thy doings, and preserve thee from the Lilim!' The fourth-century A.D. commentator Hieronymus identified Lilith with the Greek Lamia, a Libyan queen deserted by Zeus, whom his wife Hera robbed of her children. She took revenge by robbing other women of theirs.

7. The Lamiae, who seduced sleeping men, sucked their blood and ate their flesh, as Lilith and her fellow-demonesses did, were also known as Empusae, 'forcers-in'; or Mormolyceia, 'frightening wolves'; and described as 'Children of Hecate'. A Hellenistic relief shows a naked Lamia straddling a traveller asleep on his back. It is characteristic of civilizations where women are treated as chattels that they must adopt the recumbent posture during intercourse, which Lilith refused. That Greek witches who worshipped Hecate favoured the superior posture, we know from Apuleius; and it occurs in early Sumerian representations of the sexual act, though not in the Hittite. Malinowski writes that Melanesian girls ridicule what they call `the missionary position', which demands that they should lie passive and recumbent.

8. Naamah, 'pleasant', is explained as meaning that 'the demoness sang pleasant songs to idols'. Zmargad suggest smaragdos, the semi-precious aquamarine; and may therefore be her submarine dwelling. A demon named Smaragos occurs in the Homeric Epigrams.

9. Eve's creation by God from Adam's rib-a myth establishing male supremacy and disguising Eve's divinity-lacks parallels in Mediterranean or early Middle-Eastern myth. The story perhaps derives iconotropically from an ancient relief, or painting, which showed the naked Goddess Anath poised in the air, watching her lover Mot murder his twin Aliyan; Mot (mistaken by the mythographer for Yahweh) was driving a curved dagger under Aliyan's fifth rib, not removing a sixth one. The familiar story is helped by a hidden pun on tsela, the Hebrew for 'rib': Eve, though designed to be Adam's helpmeet, proved to be a tsela, a 'stumbling', or 'misfortune'. Eve's formation from Adam's tail is an even more damaging myth; perhaps suggested by the birth of a child with a vestigial tail instead of a coccyx-a not infrequent occurrence.

10. The story of Lilith's escape to the East and of Adam's subsequent marriage to Eve may, however, record an early historical incident: nomad herdsmen, admitted into Lilith's Canaanite queendom as guests (see 16. 1), suddenly seize power and, when the royal household thereupon flees, occupy a second queendom which owes allegiance to the Hittite Goddess Heba.

The meaning of 'Eve' is disputed. Hawwah is explained in Genesis III. 20 as 'mother of all living'; but this may well be a Hebraicized form of the divine name Heba, Hebat, Khebat or Khiba. This goddess, wife of the Hittite Storm-god, is shown riding a lion in a rock-sculpture at Hattusaswhich equates her with Anath-and appears as a form of Ishtar in Hurrian texts. She was worshipped at Jerusalem (see 27. 6). Her Greek name was Hebe, Heracles's goddess-wife.

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cheonsarchive · 2 years

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Jay | Love Me Or Leave Me

Pairing: Jay x Fem!Reader

Genre: ANGST!!!! Hanahaki!AU (if you're unfamiliar, it will be explained throughout the story)

Featuring: Heeseung

Warnings: Graphic/triggering content! Mentions of blood, vomit, death, cursing, mentions of food

Summary: You loved Jay and he loved you, there was no doubt. So why were you suddenly coughing up flowers?

Word Count: 10,7k

Author's Note: Did I cry while writing this? Absolutely. But do I love writing and reading angst? Absolutely. It turned a bit darker than expected, my apologies. 🙃 There were a lot of things going on in my private life, some of which I am digesting through this oneshot.

The story was inspired by this tweet I saw a few months ago. I immediately wanted to write this scenario since I had a similar experience (without the Hanahaki of course), and this is the result. Despite it being sad, I hope you enjoy this still! I would appreciate any kind of feedback. ❤️

Also, if you want to be tagged in future Enhypen scenarios, let me know!

Masterlist

Jay's phone had immaculate timing. The moment the credits of the movie you were watching began to roll, his phone started vibrating and the sound of his ringtone filled the room. It pulled you back to reality, as you were comfortably snuggled against your boyfriend, enjoying the movie in front of you. Jay shifted a bit, trying to reach his phone on the coffee table. Upon seeing the caller ID, he knew what was about to happen. He sighed and picked up, his manager on the other end. The call didn't last long, and once Jay hung up, he looked at you apologetically. You pouted slightly, knowing that he had to leave now.

It was usually like this. Jay was pretty busy with schedules, and you were glad whenever you could spend time with him. He also tried to make as much time for you as possible, which you appreciated. "It's okay," is what you told him. "Thanks for coming over at all, I know you were tired." He smiled at you, rubbing your sides soothingly. You stayed like this for a few more minutes before he whispered that he really had to leave now. You accompanied him to the door, and after he put on his shoes and jacket, he snaked his arms around you once again. He gave you quick peck on the lips and you smiled at him before he hesitantly peeled himself from you.

The moment the door fell into the lock, a piercing pain spread through your upper body. You were caught off guard by the sting in your chest, grabbing your shirt in response. After a few seconds it disappeared, and despite being confused, you decided to shake it off. You figured that you must have stood up too quickly after staying slouched on the couch for a while.

However, the pain in your chest decided to reappear a few days later. This time, it lasted longer and felt more intense, and you started to wonder if something was wrong with your health. It didn't help that you developed a cough shortly after too. You didn't think much of it at first, since it was getting colder and catching the flu around this time of year was common. It was weird that you only had the cough as a symptom, though. You checked for a fever several times, but the thermometer never showed a worrying number. And the cough grew more severe as days passed.

Jay took notice of it as well and asked if you were okay, but you simply waved him off by saying that it's just a normal cough and it will go away on its own. He looked concerned, since you rarely caught a cold or the flu, but he trusted you that if you felt really bad, you would go to the doctor.

And for a moment, you considered it after you had your worst coughing fit yet. It was the first time in your life that you coughed up blood, the first time that you felt like your lungs would collapse. It felt like a couple of heavy books were constantly being pressed on your breathing organs. You were scared that your condition might be more serious than you thought. And once you looked at the blood you had choked out, you made a weird discovery. A blue petal, soaked in your blood, lay in your hand.

Confusion was written over your features as you wondered when and how you managed to get a petal into your system. Maybe you accidentally swallowed it while taking a walk in the park? But there weren't any flowers blooming anymore, so where would that petal even come from? Maybe the petal graced one of the dishes you had at the fancy restaurant Jay invited you to yesterday? Maybe you ate them, and it turned out you were allergic to them? But you didn't remember any blue petals on your plate, and you also wondered if coughing blood was a justifiable allergic reaction to flowers. Still, you stuck with that option since it sounded the most plausible and you couldn't find a better explanation.

You soon realized that it couldn't have been flowers on a plate. Your coughing continued, and blood became its standard side effect. The next time you looked at the tissue you held in front of your mouth, you saw not one but three petals covered in blood. It freaked you out, since you had no idea where they came from. You wanted to go see a doctor, but you also felt embarrassed to do so. What would you tell them? That you were choking out petals? They would think you're insane.

Getting worried about your condition, you decided to consult Google, silently hoping it wouldn't spit out some kind of cancer you had never heard of before. What you found had you even more at a loss than before, though. The word that popped up when you typed out your symptoms was Hanahaki. Intrigued by how well the common Hanahaki symptoms matched with your current situation, you read through the causes. But when you found out that it was triggered by unrequited love, you froze.

Unrequited love? You were sure that wasn't the case, Jay and you have been happily dating for two years now, neither of you expressing discomfort in any way. He was treating you so lovingly, everyone around you said that he was completely whipped for life. And while you had your disagreements once in a while, you never had a big fight that wasn't resolved after. Jay wasn't the type to hold grudges and he was very straight-forward, so you would have known if something was bothering him.

Ultimately, you concluded that it must be something else. You scrolled through the web for what felt like hours, but everything you read led to Hanahaki. There was no other disease that had you cough up petals, even the Hanahaki blogs told you that this symptom was one-of-a-kind rare. You sat there motionless as you read through yet another page telling you that the person you love doesn't love you back which ultimately leads to your current condition. You grew frustrated, tears threatening to fall from your eyes as you tried to convince yourself that it must be something else.

But the diagnosis was clear. You loved Jay, but Jay didn't seem to love you back. You couldn't digest this, since Jay was the sweetest person you knew and he cared for you more than for anyone else. At least, that's what you told yourself. You began questioning everything, every little fight or discussion that you had in the past months. You turned every stone in your relationship to find the cause of this, whether you did something wrong and he wasn't as easy to read as you thought. Whether there was any sign of unhappiness from his side.

Did he grow tired of you? Did you become too clingy? But why would he sacrifice every free minute he has to spend time with you if he doesn't feel comfortable? Both of you were very open about your feelings in your relationship, you trusted each other more than you trusted yourselves. So, he would have definitely told you if something was wrong, right? It just didn't make sense to you at all.

The way Jay and you started dating was pretty natural. You got to know each other through Heeseung, who was friends with both of you. Jay and you immediately clicked, spending hours talking on Heeseung's couch while the others were busy getting drunk at one of his parties. You became friends pretty quickly and grew closer over the months, ultimately catching feelings for each other. It did take you two a while to act on your feelings, it was one of those cliché 'everyone-knows-they-like-each-other-except-the-people-in-question' scenarios. You were scared that he wouldn't reciprocate your feelings and you regretted falling for him in the first place. But when he mustered up the courage to confess to you, your heart skipped a beat.

Jay and you shared many firsts with each other. He was the first one you went to a fancy restaurant with. He was the first boy you slept over at, the first person you shared intimate conversations with, the first person you made love with. The first person you fell in love with so deeply that you weren't sure if you could ever not love him. But what you didn't expect was that he might also be your last love.

You decided not to ask him about it. Call it denial, but the thought of Jay confessing to you that he fell out of love would shred your heart into a million pieces. You tried to convince yourself that he did love you and you had a disease different from Hanahaki but with similar symptoms. Maybe it wasn't discovered yet? You hoped this was the case, because the thought of Jay playing pretend would kill you, if your disease won't do the job.

You were surprised at how good you were at keeping your state a secret from Jay. You tried your best to hide the coughing as much as possible, especially the blood and petal part. It turned out to be the most difficult thing to do, since your chest ached every time Jay was coming over. You had to squeeze out every ounce of self-control you had to not break out into a coughing fit in front of him. And to your surprise, it worked out. But what shocked you was how oblivious Jay was to your well-being. You wondered if you were really that good at pretending or if he didn't care as much as you would have liked. That ultimately made your worries grow more.

It was confusing to say the least. Jay didn't seem distant at all, he still came over as much as he could, he took you out on a date (which proved once more that you had the biggest self-control on the planet), he even slept over once. That night, you had to pretend to take a shower and cough as silently as you could so he wouldn't notice. Yet he didn't suspect a thing. If he was treating you like any other day, why wasn't he catching up at all?

After a while, your coughing got up to a point where you had to cancel Jay because you weren't feeling well. You started lying even more to him by saying that you had an extremely rough day at work and you wanted to be alone. That was the first time suspicion sparked in Jay. Especially when you had a bad day, you needed nothing more than to lie in his arms, so why are you preferring to be alone now? It turned out to be the wrong decision anyway, since you felt like your chest was aching even more because he wasn't there and you started missing him. You really couldn't win in this situation.

You made a plan to unlove Jay Park. It would be hard, you knew that, but it was your only chance. You needed to grow distant from him as much as possible, since you didn't know how much time you had left. The coughing was becoming more and more frequent and you almost held full flowers in your hand after each outburst. Panic arose every time you counted more petals or saw a full flower in the sink or bathtub. You needed to push him away, it was the only possible way to save yourself.

Truth is, it was impossible. You loved Jay, you realized that once more now. You couldn't just break up with him, that would make your heart shatter into even more pieces. You were heartbroken from the fact that you were in a relationship where only one person loved the other, but you also couldn't cut the strings. In your frustration, you consulted the internet once again to see if there was another option.

Then you remembered there was. A surgery. People with Hanahaki could get the flowers blooming in their chest removed. However, it was a dangerous surgery and would cost all memories of the person one loved. You wouldn't remember anything about Jay. And you wanted to remember everything. Even though you wouldn't know what had happened, you couldn't wrap your mind around the scenario that you would remove Jay completely from your life and memory. You shared so many beautiful moments, so many firsts, so many hardships. There was no way you were going to remove all of that. So, you needed to come up with a story to justify your sudden death to a clueless Jay. And you needed to come up with it fast.

Heeseung became wary when he stood in front of your door and you weren't opening it. He had heard from Jay that you were a bit distant lately, so he decided to check on you since Jay wanted to give you the space you needed. And at this point, you were thankful, since it was difficult keeping your act up in front of him.

You heard the doorbell ring just as you finished choking out another windflower. You realized now that it was windflowers all along, Jay's favorite flowers. You've read about it, the flowers are oftentimes the favorites of your unrequited love. That was yet another piece of evidence that what the internet said was true. Tears were welling up in your eyes, but when you heard the doorbell ring once more, you were shaken out of your thoughts. You quickly wiped your mouth and checked your clothes for any blood stains, but you got lucky this time.

You didn't know who was showing up at your apartment without an invitation, and you got scared that it was Jay. You contemplated opening the door and got startled when the person on the other side began to knock urgently now. The moment you heard the mysterious person's voice, you felt relieved. "Y/N, it's me Heeseung. Are you there?"

Without a second thought you turned the knob and swung the door open, revealing a surprised Heeseung. "Thank God, I thought you were dead." Close Heeseung, close. You explained that you were under the shower and didn't hear the doorbell, but once your eyes glanced over to the bag in his hand, your attention was elsewhere. He followed your gaze and smiled, lifting his hand to show the bag to you.

"I brought your favorite snacks." he announced proudly, and for the first time in forever, a genuine smile spread across your lips. Heeseung was random like this. You wouldn't hear from him for a while, and then he would suddenly show up in front of your apartment, snacks in hand and ready to spend time with you. You enjoyed afternoons like this with him, but the timing wasn't the best right now.

You grabbed the bag from his hand and walked over to the kitchen, Heeseung trailing along. He stood next to you when you started unpacking, eyes sparkling as you were met with your favorite instant ramen, a triangle kimbap and soda. It's when Heeseung suddenly noticed something on your face that your attention shifts towards him.

"Is that blood on your cheek?" You froze instantly when you heard him. Damn it, you should have taken a look in the mirror before letting him in. In your hurry, you hastily wiped your face without checking if there were any leftovers. You mentally facepalmed yourself, you did a perfect job in deceiving Jay, so why did you suddenly let your guard down in front of Heeseung?

Panicking, you searched for the best excuse you could find without taking too long to answer. "What? Oh, that's just lipstick." you tried to sound as nonchalant as possible. But Heeseung didn't buy it.

"You never wear red lipstick." He pointed out. Damn it. You chuckled awkwardly, "Yeah, but I wanted to try it out. Didn't like it though." You quickly tried to change the topic by asking which soda he wanted to drink and while he had a suspicious look on his face, he dropped it after a while and played along.

Shit. You really needed to be careful now. Heeseung was usually the type to nag until you cave in, but you couldn't do that this time. If Jay doesn't know, then neither shall Heeseung. Sweat was forming on your forehead due to nervousness, and you were scared that your secret might be revealed.

Fate had other plans laid out for you, though, being cruel like that. You had been extremely careful around food and tried not to eat too fast in fear of accidentally choking on it. Your eating speed had decreased drastically and you hoped no one would notice. Jay never mentioned it, but you were sure it was obvious. However, your mind was racing and you couldn't help but chug down as many noodles as could fit in your mouth to calm yourself down. Yet it only resulted in you choking on them.

And there it goes. You lost control again, your coughs coming out in a series of strained choking noises. Heeseung was bewildered by your sudden reaction and he couldn't process the way you jolted up from your seat and dashed to the kitchen to hold your head above the sink. You tried your best to stop coughing but it was to no avail. Heeseung was by your side in an instant, a look and color on his face that suggested that every ounce of life has left him. He looked almost as pale as you and when he saw the blood you were losing through your mouth, he panicked.

"Y/N what is going on?!" he demanded to know, trying to hit your back to help you but it just made things worse. You slapped his hand away when you made a sound close to vomiting, a blue flower dropping into the puddle of blood in the sink. You coughed out some more petals before being able to catch your breath again, groaning in pain. You tried to register what just happened. Heeseung saw. He knows about your suffering now.

You turned your head ever so slightly to catch a glimpse of him. His eyes were wide, focusing on the flower in the sink and trying to process what you just spat out. The way you basically saw the wheels turning in his head gave it away that he didn't know about Hanahaki either. His gaze flickered over to you, his eyes just as wide as before.

"What just happened? Are you okay?" he asked, concern lacing his voice. He had never seen someone cough out a flower before and it was horrifying to him. And when he heard a weak laugh as a response, he was even more confused.

"Do I look okay?" you bit back at him, half-annoyed at this point. Even though you tried to hide your illness, the fact that nobody caught on on their own disappointed you. Were they really that dense, or were you just an incredible actress?

He was speechless again. His mind was yelling at him to pinch himself because this might be a dream after all. Oh, how you wished it was. He shifted his weight a bit, scared to push you to answer more after you snapped like that. When you turned around and let yourself slide to the ground in exhaustion, he was quick to follow you.

He searched for eye contact desperately, and you granted it to him after a few seconds. You shouldn't have. The way he looked at you, guilt rushed through you because you didn't tell anyone about this. But how could you spread information like that if it would make Jay look like a complete douchebag? Even in miserable moments like this you put Jay and his reputation first.

"I don't understand, please explain to me. You look way too relaxed for my liking. Has this happened before?" Heeseung said in a low voice just above a whisper. Relaxed? Not really. Used to it by now? Yeah. You took a deep breath, one that made your stomach turn. Trying to blink away the tears that were forming in your eyes, you organized your thoughts before speaking up again.

"Ever heard of Hanahaki before?" Heeseung shook his head slightly. But at least your condition had a name now. You nodded understandingly, since you were similarly clueless about this disease before you got it yourself. "It's a disease where you cough up flowers. Until you die."

You didn't think it was possible, but Heeseung's skin lost even more color upon hearing the word 'die.' He wanted to doubt you, since you had a terrible sense of humor like that, but you didn't seem in the mood to joke around. Especially after he had legit witnessed you vomiting flowers into the sink.

"How did you get it?" he asked, curiosity sparked on how you contract such an odd condition. You smiled bitterly, staring blankly in front of you. Tears were welling up in your eyes vigorously once the cause crossed your mind again. You tried to stop them, but it was difficult. You were so drained that any effort to keep it together seemed to be useless by now. Trying not to choke on the knot forming in your throat, you said, "because of unrequited love."

That was the first time Heeseung had a different expression than shock. His brows furrowed in disbelief. Unrequited love? He didn't know why his mind took him there and he also didn't know why his mouth began to utter his thoughts, but he regretted it right after asking, "Do you love someone else but Jay?"

You wanted to scoff, you really did. You also wanted to punch him for even thinking that. But you couldn't really blame him, all he knew is that you were being distant towards Jay. Might have been because you fell in love with someone else. But you rendered that completely impossible to begin with.

"Don't be ridiculous," you simply stated, "how could I love someone else but Jay?" Heeseung knew that it was stupid of him to frame you like that, but he didn't understand how you could possibly develop a condition like that. "But I don't get it. Jay loves you." he said more to himself than to you directly.

"Apparently not." you said, bitterness glazing your voice. As stupid as it sounds, it gave you comfort that Heeseung was just as confused about it as you. You refrained from telling him because he might know something about Jay's feelings for you that you didn't. It might have not been all too surprising for him considering Jay had told him already that he was falling out of love with you. But you had never seen such genuine concern, fear and confusion on your friend's face, and it gave you hope that your relationship with Jay appeared actually as beautiful to others as you rendered it.

"Did he tell you he doesn't love you anymore? He never mentioned it before. This comes out of nowhere to me, since he seemed happy with his life and with you. Has he lied to me when he told me he is excited to see you again?" Heeseung started to ramble uncontrollably, as if his mind and his mouth were connected without a filter. Only the exhausted gaze in your eyes made him stop.

"Of course he hasn't. Otherwise, we would have broken up and I could try and fix my broken heart. But the way it is now is obviously not working. He treats me like nothing is wrong when in reality, everything is wrong right now." you began to overshare, but at this point you failed to care. Heeseung has seen way too much anyway and he was the one who knew most about Jay and your relationship since he is close to both of you. You had asked for his opinion whenever you had a more serious argument with Jay, you trusted him that much. And you began to think that it might have been easier talking to him from the beginning.

"Maybe he doesn't want to hurt you." Heeseung reasoned and you couldn't hold back the little chuckle escaping your lips.

"Yeah well, he obviously failed." you said, almost making it sound lighthearted, like a simple joke. You looked at Heeseung again, and sadly, he didn't find it as funny as you. Instead, he prompted another question.

"Isn't there any way to fix this? To heal you?" he sounded so sincere that it made you heart ache thinking about the fact that Heeseung was scared to lose you. Was scared that there was no way out for you. Little did he know, there wasn't, at least not for you. You still decided to tell him about the only other option left apart from dying, he would find out about it online anyway if he wanted.

"There is a surgery that could save me. The doctors would remove the flower blooming in my chest, but with its removal, I would lose every feeling and memory of Jay." you explained to him, and to your despair, he didn't seem to see a problem with that.

"Then why aren't you getting this surgery?" he pressed, wondering how you could hold memories dearer than your own life. Maybe it was because he wasn't in love at the moment, he wouldn't understand. And you decided not to snap at him about such tasteless words.

"Are you serious? I'm still in my right mind not to just throw away my feelings and memories of the most important person in my life. As if I could live with that decision." you argued, shaking your head in disbelief.

Heeseung wasn't as easily fazed by your explanation. He tried everything to help you survive. He understood that you held Jay dearly and that it wasn't an easy decision to make, but if that was the only option for you now, you really had to consider it.

"But you wouldn't even remember that decision, would you? I can't just let you choose death when there is the option to live instead." You sighed.

"And have Jay live with the consequences of that decision instead? He would remember everything and I would just cut him off like that. I'm not going to do that to him." you felt yourself getting angry, and Heeseung sensed a shift in your mood as well. It told him that you made up your mind and no matter how much he tried to argue with you, it wouldn't lead anywhere.

While he partly understood your point, it would end up the same if you died. Jay would be left with the knowledge that you chose death rather than forgetting him, that you died because of him. That is a guilt he would struggle with forever, Heeseung was sure of it. No matter how you decide to approach this, it would end up with Jay suffering and either you oblivious to it or dead. And while death wasn't an option for him, it certainly was for you.

Silence filled the room and you took that as a sign that Heeseung understood. You spared a glance at him. He looked seriously concerned for you. The way he bit his lip, you knew he was contemplating to ask another question, so you urged him to spit it out.

"How long has this been going on for?" he asked calmly, as if his adrenaline had stabilized again now that you had calmed down as well. You despised that question though, since it was embarrassing to admit. You looked down into your lap, fiddling with your fingers while considering if you should tell him one more lie. No, Y/N. No more lies, you told yourself.

"Three months." Heeseung almost choked on his saliva, and it triggered the itching in your chest. His eyes were blown wide once again. "Three months?!" he repeated as if to confirm. When you didn't budge, he searched the room for an explanation. "We saw each other like four times the past three months, what the hell?" he questioned in disbelief. You just shrugged.

"Guess I should have launched my acting career instead of studying psychology." you joked. "You really should have." Heeseung confirmed, jumping onto your joke but also coating it in enough sarcasm. You still felt a small smile spread on your face. At least you haven't lost your humor completely.

The lightheartedness in the air was cut when a sudden thought popped up in your mind. You looked at Heeseung with an urgency that scared him. The fact that you even went so far as to take his hands made panic rise all the more in his blood.

"You cannot tell Jay." you said firmly, letting Heeseung know that you were dead serious this time. He just looked at you in bewilderment. Letting go of your hands in his, he says, "Are you kidding me? Of course I am telling him. He is breaking your heart, hell, he is fucking killing you Y/N! We- I need to tell him!" he tried to justify, but you didn't bother how passionate he was being about it, you shook your head.

You felt the first tear escaping, the thick drop of saltiness running down your cheek dramatically. Heeseung looked at you desperately, and he couldn't help but fight tears as well. You brought your hand up to his cheek to comfort him, as if he was worse off than you. His lips started to tremble and a shaky breath escaped his lips. The emotions you experienced during your conversation with Heeseung felt like an absolute rollercoaster and you wanted it to stop.

"Please don't tell Jay. I'd rather live my last days pretending to be happy with him than being even more heartbroken by a break-up and his reaction. Let me pretend to be loved for a little longer, please." you choked out, completely sobbing at this point. You could see how your state completely broke Heeseung and without a second thought, he pulled you into a hug in hopes of providing just a little bit of comfort.

You uncontrollably sobbed into his chest, and surprisingly enough your coughs weren't threatening to show this time but decided to give you a break to cry. As if you haven't done that enough the past few days. The amount of ice you had to put under your eyes to decrease the puffiness was insane.

Even though you felt relieved that someone finally knew and there was one person less in front of which you had to pretend that you were fine, the way Heeseung tried to talk you out of basically killing yourself was an excruciating pain. You only dealt with that choice yourself and now that you voiced your arguments to someone for the first time, you didn't know how to deal with it.

Heeseung thought it was incredibly selfish of you to leave Jay in the dark of all this, and he needed to know Jay's opinion on it because he still couldn't wrap his mind around the fact that he didn't love you anymore. He wanted to confront him, to yell at him for how his behavior has made you feel, but he couldn't bring himself to do it after seeing you break down like this. He also related to your point. You were in enough pain as is, so you tried to avoid any additional struggle. Seeing how confident you were about your choice, he made his decision.

"Okay. I'm not going to tell him."

Heeseung really tried not to tell Jay. He really did. But the more days passed, the more his guilt pushed him to letting his best friend know what he did to you. He tried to squeeze information out of Jay, looking for any signs that Jay actually secretly knows what's going on with you, but he really didn't have a clue. Heeseung tried his best not to be suspicious and faked concern for the fact that you distanced yourself from Jay when he knew exactly why.

Heeseung checked up on you every single day after you let him in on your secret. One call a day was obligatory and he also visited your apartment every other day to help you clean up the blood and petals or try and distract you from the pain to the best of his ability. But the more time passed and the more he noticed your condition getting gradually worse, his patience vanished.

He shouldn't have stood in front of Jay's apartment right now. He shouldn't have raised his arm to press the doorbell. Yet something inside him urged him to do it regardless of his mind fighting it. When he heard Jay approaching the door, Heeseung panicked. No, he promised he wouldn't tell Jay. He had to come up with a different excuse on why he just decided to barge into Jay's apartment.

Certain that he had a fake story to tell, Jay opening the door made Heeseung's plan fly out the window. He just stood in front of Jay, completely zoned out as his mind was running laps. Jay gave him a concerned look.

"Hyung?" Jay asked in a surprised yet questionable tone.

"Can I come in?" was all Heeseung could come up with, and Jay moving to the side was the sign that Heeseung should step inside.

His mind was racing, he still fought the urge to tell Jay about Hanahaki. In fact, the moment he got home after learning about it for the first time from you, he did his own research. As you concluded, he would get all the information he needed anyway. Heeseung was hoping you had missed or left out a crucial detail about the disease. He tried to find a loophole, but he wasn't successful.

He only learned about the flower often being the loved one's favorite. The next time he was over and helped you clean your sink, he noticed that you were indeed choking up windflowers. It made his own chest ache, because just like you he tried to tell himself that the condition might be something else all along. But everything pointed to the fact that Jay didn't love you and was too ignorant to tell anyone.

The thought made Heeseung clench his fists until his knuckles turned white from the pressure. It made him angry that this whole situation was unresolved and while he somehow wasn't in the position to step in, he couldn't help himself.

So when Jay asked, "Is everything okay?" Heeseung already knew what to answer.

"Do you love Y/N?"

Jay was taken aback by Heeseung's bluntness. He had never questioned Jay's intentions, especially not with you. So why was he suddenly asking him such a private question?

"What?" was all Jay could answer in disbelief.

"Do. you love. Y/N." Heeseung repeated, this time slower as if Jay failed to hear the question correctly. He grew more impatient the more Jay wavered, but the latter was confused about Heeseung's behavior. He had never experienced his friend like that, storming into his apartment only to drop such a question.

"Of course I do. What is wrong with you?" Jay said in a slightly annoyed tone. If there was one thing he hated, it was people questioning him like that.

Jay was honest and straight-forward, he rendered that one of the most important character traits in people and the ones he was the most proud about. So it was his absolute pet peeve when people distrusted him. Especially those who have known him long enough, like Heeseung.

But Heeseung was sure that Jay had just lied to him. He was hiding something, but the urgency of the situation made Heeseung press once again.

"Are you sure?" he challenged and Jay grew visibly irritated at the persistence of his friend.

"Dude, seriously. What is your fucking problem? I love Y/N, and you know that." Jay spat at his friend, his patience on the line. But so was Heeseung's. The older boy just scoffed, as if mocking Jay. He couldn't help but wrap the next statement in the most venomous tone Heeseung had ever mustered.

"Yeah? Then why is she coughing up flowers because of you?"

All the anger that was present in Jay's face vanished once Heeseung finished his question. He was confused once again. He studied Heeseung's face, looking for any sign that he was drunk or high. They rarely drank and Heeseung didn't take any drugs, not even weed, but who knows what happened to him prior to this. Jay's friend was stone-cold sober though, and he could tell. Heeseung rarely got angry, but when he did, it was serious. But what he had just said to Jay didn't make sense at all.

"She is what?"

"Hanahaki, Jay. The disease where you cough up flowers because of unrequited love." Heeseung stated in a cold tone. He really expected Jay to know that he isn't in love with you anymore and decided not to tell anyone because he felt ashamed. But the fact that Jay was so confused caught Heeseung off guard too. Shouldn't you know when you love someone or not?

Apparently not. Jay couldn't believe his ears. You were choking on flowers? Because of him? Because he didn't love you? He stood there motionless, trying to decipher the information Heeseung had sprinkled on him.

Realization. Heeseung was right. But Jay had no idea. He had admired you ever since he laid eyes on you for the first time, and his crush only grew stronger after finding out how knowledgeable, funny and sincere you were. He was sure that he fell faster for you than you for him, and the giddy feeling inside him lasted for months on end.

But after one and a half years, they died down. Jay didn't think much of it at all, he just thought that the lovey-dovey phase of your relationship was over and it settled into a more comfortable one. Jay always thought that it's normal that you aren't as head over heels as you were on day one after a while. That there weren't that many firsts to share anymore. He thought it's normal that one matures and the feelings calm down a bit. That's what his father had told him as well.

And he definitely adored you to this day. You were such an important person to him, someone he could lean on and talk to about all his daily struggles. He still had a deep admiration for you. But it wasn't love.

And he didn't even realize. He concluded that being in love means settling after a while, it means feeling comfortable around and adoring a person, but it may not feel like the beginning of a relationship. He never had ill intentions, he wanted you in his life. He just never realized that the feelings he held for you weren't exactly love, even though he thought they were.

But your disease was painful evidence that it wasn't deep love anymore. And when this weight crashed down on him, he felt like he was pulled under water without any chance to breathe.

Jay had heard of Hanahaki before, but he wasn't sure if it was a real disease or a made up one. It's like those instances where you don't know if it was real or a dream. Now that he had proof that it was real, he got scared.

Heeseung's anger was gradually replaced by nervousness due to Jay's lack of a response. He could see Jay was contemplating something, but he had been quiet for quite a while now and it drove Heeseung up the wall. He just told his best friend that his significant other is dying because of him, yet there is no response.

Truth be told, Jay didn't know what to say. He felt guilt wash over him instantly, not even because of your disease, but because he mistook comfort and adoration for love. It's like he betrayed not only you but himself as well by thinking he loves you when in reality he wasn't. The fact that you caught a deadly disease because of it only made matters worse.

The moment Jay looked at Heeseung, the older one knew that Jay realized that he had fucked up. He had fucked up bad. The look on Jay's face told Heeseung once and for all that he had told only the truth. And it was breaking his heart even more, because Jay was oblivious to his own shift in feelings. Heeseung never had a deep-rooted relationship like yours, so he couldn't relate to the situation or judge if you notice when you fall out of love.

But nevertheless, he felt sorry. He was in the middle of a completely fucked up situation. You were coughing flowers because your boyfriend didn't love you, and the boyfriend in question didn't even know it until now. Heeseung was the one to break the news to Jay too, so he felt even worse for causing both of you more pain than necessary.

He started to regret talking to Jay at all. The look on his face was enough to tell Heeseung that he should turn back time to before he entered the younger one's apartment. He should have kept his mouth shut, but he just couldn't. Not if every day felt like your last to you. Jay deserved to know the truth, both about your condition and his feelings (or lack thereof) being the cause of that.

The emotions Jay felt were indescribable. He had never felt more culpable in his life. You were suffering, because of him. You were dying, because of him. Dying. No, that can't happen.

Jay had a look of desperation decorate his features when he suddenly asked "Is there nothing I can do? There must be a way to save Y/N."

Wow, the words came out more broken than he had expected. It was only when he heard himself choke that he noticed the tears welling up in his eyes. Jay rarely cried.

Heeseung hesitated, especially since knowing you had made your choice. But it was to no avail, Jay would find out one way or another. He sighed, his gaze dropping to his feet. "There is the possibility of a surgery. It's quite risky though, and if successful, she will not remember you. Like, at all."

"But- I don't want that." Jay blurted without thinking. It was incredibly selfish of him and he knew it, but he wanted to stay in your life no matter what. He wanted you to remember him too. You shared so many memories that he wouldn't want to take away from you, just because he was too stupid to love you. So this wasn't an option for him. Little did he know, you had the same opinion.

Heeseung scoffed in disbelief. You guys really were made for each other, he thought bitterly. "Well, she doesn't want that either. The other option is that you love her." But it was easier said than done. How do you purposefully fall in love with someone? If Jay could, he definitely would, and Heeseung knew that. You can't decide for your heart, that was the painful part.

"Heeseung, please. I mean it. What other options are there?"

"There are none, Jay." Heeseung retorted quickly, slightly annoyed that Jay really thought there were several options to begin with. The opportunity of getting a life-saving surgery should be gift enough to everyone involved. Jay realized that too.

"She has to get the surgery." He concluded. Heeseung rolled his eyes, but was dumbfounded when he saw Jay slipping inside his shoes and grabbing his keys.

"What are you doing?" He asked, hoping Jay wouldn't answer what he was about to.

"I'm going to Y/N." Heeseung wanted to facepalm.

"You think that's a good idea right now? After she obviously distanced herself from you?" He said as he grabbed Jay's arm forcefully, trying to make him reconsider his next steps. Jay was frustrated, to say the least.

"Heeseung, I don't know what to do, okay?! You basically told me that Y/N is dying, because of me! How am I supposed to react!" He exploded, obviously helpless. The room was drowned in despair and anger. Jay was angry, not at Heeseung for telling him, not at you for not telling him. He was angry at himself. How could he be so blind? He wanted to know all the details, but he was afraid the answers would shatter his heart even more. He wanted to see you, to apologize for being so stupid, to tell you it's going to be okay when it might not, but he didn't know if that was the right move.

Heeseung sighed. He knew that telling Jay would ultimately result in Jay wanting to see you immediately. He couldn't blame him. So he silently agreed to go over to your apartment.

'This is it', you thought. This would be your last coughing fit, your relief. You could finally be at peace, because the flower that was stuck in your throat was suffocating you. And while this wasn't the first time you felt this way, you hoped it would be your last. You were completely drained. No matter how much effort Heeseung put into making you feel better, there was no escaping reality.

You had already told Heeseung what he should tell Jay when you suddenly passed. A sudden heart attack sounded like the most plausible option. There were numerous people who just dropped dead on the spot, so it wouldn't be weird if the same happened to you, right?

Wrong. You were oblivious to the fact that Heeseung had told a different version to Jay already. That version being the truth. And when you heard the key turn in the lock and the door swinging open, your worst fear became reality. Because the only person who had a key to your apartment was your boyfriend.

You panicked, trying to collect your limbs so you could crawl to the door and lock yourself inside the bathroom. But you were too weak, not even the rush of adrenaline helping you to reach the door handle. Before you could even stretch out your arm to grab it, Jay was standing in the doorframe. You had never seen him so distressed, and you didn't need to catch a glimpse of Heeseung behind him to know that he had told Jay.

Fuck. You weren't ready for this conversation at all. You hoped you would die before Jay found out, and you cursed the universe for not letting you have that at least. No idea how to react, you smiled weakly.

"Hi, Jay."

The pain in his eyes was something you hoped you'd never have to see. And now you knew why. It totally wrecked you.

"Y/N..." he said, swallowing thickly. He internally hoped this was all a joke that Heeseung thought was incredibly funny when it wasn't. But laying eyes on your weak figure was a painful reminder what he had done to you without even knowing. Within the few weeks that he hadn't seen you, you had lost an insane amount of weight, looking like a corpse almost. Heeseung had prepared Jay for the worst, because he couldn't get you to gain weight even when forcing food down your esophagus. Due to the whole blood and sometimes vomit, you were constantly dehydrated, your skin looking as dry as your throat felt.

He dropped down on his knees, taking your cold face into his hands. You only realized then that you were already crying. And he was too.

"God, Y/N. I can't tell you how sorry I am." He choked out between sobs. But you didn't want his apologies. You wanted an explanation. Because seeing him like this made you not sad, but mainly angry. You expected this kind of reaction, but you found it unfair. He was the one who is responsible, and you still believed he knew but didn't tell you. Something that made your blood boil, because you felt betrayed by him.

"Why didn't you tell me?" you said, voice sounding stronger and more accusing than you had expected. Jay's head dropped in shame.

"I didn't know myself. Please believe me. You're still one of the most important people in my life, I just-"

"You just don't love me anymore." you interrupted him bitterly.

He still wished that wasn't the truth. It made his head spin. But his mission was to save you.

Heeseung had already explained to him in the car that you were strictly against getting the surgery for several reasons, but Jay hoped he could change your mind in the end. It would hurt him, yes. It would hurt like hell. But he was willing to live with the pain if it meant saving you.

"Y/N, listen to me. You have to get the surgery." he said in the most desperate tone you had ever heard from him. Even though he was firmly holding your face in his hands, you managed to shake your head weakly. His shoulders dropped and he pressed once more how you need to save your own life.

"No. How could I do that, knowing that you will remember me and I won't know you anymore?" You tried to reason, but Jay's stern face couldn't crumble under such talk. He was determined to change your mind.

"I can live with it. I will cherish our memories knowing that you got a second chance at life." he tried not to sob while arguing but he couldn't keep his tears in as they freely ran down his cheek, mirroring your own.

"But I don't want to forget you." you confessed, sounding absolutely miserable. But Jay didn't care, and neither did you. Truth was, you were miserable. The blood stains on the floor and in the sink and the dried petals that you forgot to scrub off served as enough evidence.

"Y/N, please. You can't die on me like that. Please. Do it for me?"

"No offense, Jay. But you're not really in the position to ask something from me."

Damn, that hurt. The fact that you managed to say that with a slight chuckle despite the way you looked and felt right now blew your mind. You dreaded this conversation and you told yourself that if it had to take place, you had to stay strong. You knew your stance, and so did he.

"I know, I'm so sorry. But you need to give yourself another chance. If not for me, do it for yourself. Don't put my feelings first, I'm not worth it. Please." he practically begged, not knowing how he could convince you when he knew you always put others first. And he hated that trait about you just now. He wished that you could put yourself first, at least this one time.

You mustered a smile again. He knew what that meant.

"I love you, Jay."

He wanted to say these three words back so bad. But he knew they wouldn't reflect the truth. It would just be a blatant lie, and he didn't want to lie anymore. Neither knowingly nor unknowingly.

Your words hurt like bullets, and he realized that you had made your decision. No matter how hard he tried, you wouldn't budge. Jay had argued several times with you and he knew how strong-willed you were. Just like Heeseung told him beforehand, he could sense that you were settled.

He couldn't help but choke, pulling your small frame into his arms. Jay felt how skinny you became and how your hair was dry and breaking off. He wished it was anything but a disease where he is at fault. Any disease would be painful, but knowing that he was behind all this had his heart drop to his stomach.

"I know I'm not in the position to, but let me ask one more thing from you. Go to the hospital. Let them give you painkillers at least." he whispered into your hair.

Tired of arguing with him, you just whispered a small "Okay." back.

What you hoped would be the end turned out to just be the beginning. You kept your promise and let Jay drive you to the hospital the next day. The doctors were surprised at how late you went to see them and how advanced your disease had already gotten. The perplexed face of the doctor when you said that you don't want to get the surgery instantly made you insecure, and his gaze towards Jay made heat rise to your cheeks.

Jay visited you every day in the hospital. He promised he would check up on you now that he knows, that it's the least he could do for you. But it got hard sometimes. He really had to force himself to see you like this. To know he's the cause of your suffering. To know that every day could be your last.

At least the painkillers were helping you. Even if you initially regretted agreeing to Jay taking you to the hospital, you were thankful that it made things a bit easier. Well, on the physical pain part, at least. The fact that Jay came by every single day to see you and the look on his face made your stomach churn. You couldn't bring yourself to tell him to leave, though. He insisted on staying by your side in a miserable attempt to make up for all the months he couldn't. You didn't dare bring up that it might be better for both of you to be separated now. Because deep down inside, the hopeless romantic in you still longed for him.

Initially, you were mad at him. You tried to hate him, to fall out of love with him. But after weeks of trying, you realized that you just couldn't. What your heart wanted was out of your control. And that's why you couldn't be mad at him, because what his heart wanted was also out of his control. The only thing you could possibly be mad for was his ignorance, that he didn't even suspect anything like this. The thing is, your body and mind were too weak to build up anymore anger. You felt quite empty.

It was like the lack of your emotions were the counterpart to the overflow of emotions Jay was confronted with. He tried his best to contain them, but on this particular day, it got too much for him. You were talking mindlessly about random things, your voice croaky and weak, and the topic suddenly shifted to some memories of your relationship. You tried to make it lighthearted, but it ached knowing it will never be like this again.

On one of your first dates, Jay took you on a little road trip through the city, stopping by different places to go shopping, grab something to eat or take in the scenery. At the end, you reached a park, the trees still decorated with lanterns from a recent festival. The whole evening felt like a romance movie, and you remember the day so precisely because it was when Jay finally caved in on his feelings and confessed just how much he likes you. Through small actions and faint words he had already mentioned it before, but at that moment, with your cheek in his hand, he poured his heart out to you for the first time. And so did you.

"Jay?" you called out so quietly that he almost didn't catch it.

"Yes?"

"Can you hold my cheek like in that moment. Please?" you whispered, and you swear you could see something break inside him. He looked at his hands as if he was contemplating whether to reach out or not. He fidgeted a bit and when you saw a tear fall, you knew you had overstepped the line.

"I'm sorry Y/N, I just can't." he said, instantly rising to his seat and leaving the room. You could only watch and were surprised that your heart could break even more than it already did.

Oh, and Jay regretted it. The next day, he was determined to apologize to you, to tell you that he will do anything you want from him, even if it is leaving. He felt terrible for leaving you like this, when he was the reason you were in this situation in the first place.

But the moment the elevator doors opened, a weird feeling overcame him. Something wasn't right.

And it turned out to be a justified hunch. He stepped into the corridor, on the way to your room, when a nurse suddenly appeared in front of him. The look in her eyes told him everything, yet she chose to verbalize it.

"Are you here for Y/L/N Y/N?" Jay nodded. The nurse sighed.

"I am incredibly sorry, but Y/N has passed away a few hours ago."

What kind of metaphor would do Jay's feelings at that moment justice? A spear to the heart? A bullet to the head? A fire burning up his entire body? A feeling of drowning?

He couldn't tell. And it didn't matter. What mattered is that he was too late. He wanted to make things right, even just a little bit, and he couldn't even do that. He had to calm himself in order to not explode in front of the nurse, to leave the walls untouched without holes from his punching, to leave the floor clean of his tears. All he could do was nod. And regret that his last time seeing you breathing, if just barely, ended like this.

The nurse asked him a few more questions on who to contact to inform them about your death. Jay absentmindedly muttered the names of your close family members and how she should tell them it was a heart attack, his mind everywhere but in the hospital right now. Everything was a blur. He didn't even notice the nurse in front of him disappearing after telling him he can go home.

The only thing that brought him back to reality was a tug at his sleeve. He turned his head, seeing another nurse on his side.

"Are you Park Jongseong?" she asked, concern written over her features. How long did Jay just stand there?

"Yes, I am." he said while clearing his throat, voice more stable than he expected.

"I am sorry for your loss. But Mrs. Y/L/N asked me to give this to you." She handed Jay an envelope with 'to Jay' written on its back. He thanked her while studying the envelope. You wrote him a letter?

Jay needed to take a moment to process everything. He sat down on a nearby chair, fiddling with the letter as if to confirm that it was indeed real and not part of his imagination. And the inside of it made him incredibly nervous. But also incredibly curious. He needed to know what you wanted to tell him.

Before he could overthink it, he opened the envelope and took out a sheet of paper. Even though it was shaky, he immediately recognized your handwriting. He wondered when you had written this, since your condition was terrible towards the end. How long had you planned this?

Smoothing out the piece of paper, he noticed the wrinkles on some parts. Tears. You had cried while writing this. It made his stomach flip. And he was once again scared to read the first line, to be confronted with everything again. But he forced himself to. It's your last wish, after all.

Dear Jay,

I hope you are doing okay. I know that when you receive this letter, I will be gone, but I hope it's bearable. I also know that letters aren't our thing, but here goes nothing I guess. Another first with you.

Jay, I wanted you to know once again that I lived the happiest years of my life by your side.

'So did I, Y/N.' he thought.

I could come clean in this letter, but there is nothing to come clean about, as even in the miserable state I'm in right now, I render our time together the best of my existence. I never felt as whole as when I was with you, and I want to remind you on that. Even if it didn't work out in the end, I regret nothing. You were my first on so many things, and I'm glad that, in a twisted stupid way, you are also my last.

Jay needed to pause. He couldn't swallow the knot in his throat, his breathing ragged and his eyes welling with tears. Why are you doing this to him? Yes, he deserved every bit of pain, but he didn't want it all to crash down on him. He forced himself to continue, anyway.

I am sorry that I wasn't good enough for you.

'No! You were too good for me. I wasn't good enough for you!'

But I hope that despite the pain you are feeling right now, you can move on and cherish the memories we created.

'How could I ever move on?'

I don't want me stopping you from being happy. Please Jay, be happy.

'How could I ever be happy again?'

I wish for you to find a partner that you can love as unconditionally as I was allowed to love you. That you can find the matching piece to your puzzle. That you can live your remaining life happily, with or without me on your mind. I want to become a positive memory for you. One you will look back to one day and think 'Yes, that was a beautiful time.'

Also, don't be too hard on yourself. I know that this isn't your fault.

'But it is completely my fault!'

We can't choose for our hearts, they choose for us. And yours chose different than mine, and that's okay. If you want to grief, grief. If you want to cry, cry. Do everything needed to overcome this initial sadness and to move on from it. I know you can do it. Or maybe, I'm asking you one more favor now: Promise me to do it. I know you always hated me putting others first, but you know how I am. I want you to be happy, first and foremost. So please try to be, keep your passion for music and fashion. Travel a lot and collect souvenirs. Do everything you planned on doing, even if it was planned with me. Don't let that stop yourself.

The letter is getting too long and philosophical now, so I'll stop here.

Thank you for the love and comfort you gave me over the years, I will never forget how you lightened up my life with your presence.

I love you, Jay. Maybe we'll meet again.

Until then,

Y/N

P.S.: Please play my favourite song on my funeral. You know which one.

The last sentences were almost impossible to read for him, as Jay's vision was blurred from all the tears. He began sobbing uncontrollably, not caring about any weird looks he was getting from other visitors or nurses. He tried to follow your guideline: If you want to cry, cry. Jay rarely cried, but now he needed to. He choked on his sobs as he was reading the letter over and over again, until it was imprinted in his mind.

And choking was what he hoped to experience after your death. He hoped he would develop the same condition, he so desperately waited for it. He wanted to know that after all, he did love you still. He wanted to make sure that your death was useless, and he wanted himself to suffer the same way you did.

But the cough never came. And that felt more like a punishment to him than a relief. Because now, he had to live with the fact that he killed you. That he really fell out of love with you, for whatever stupid reason. And he wasn't sure if he could keep the promise from your letter.

Masterlist

#enhypen #enhypen scenarios #jay #park jay #jay enhypen #park jongseong #jay scenarios #jay angst #enhypen angst #enhypen x reader #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #enhypen imagines #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen scenario #heeseung #lee heeseung #enhypen jay #jay oneshots

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the-apprentice-lia · 3 years

Note

Hey! I saw that you do headcanons as well? Sorry if I’m asking in the right place but I loved your post on Asra’s hurt!! Could you possibly do the “mc getting slapped by the m6” ask please? My angsty little heart needs foodddd

hiii!! i’m so glad you liked my post:)) don’t worry, i’ll do my best to not cry when i’m writing this although it probably won’t work

i just wanna say that under no circumstances is it okay to hurt your partner!! please don’t take this post the wrong way:)

the main 6 slapping mc

asra

• it probably started because of how much he keeps from you. you know it’s just because he doesn’t want to see you hurt or unhappy because of how much of your life you’ve lost to your premature death, but it’s still so infuriating. you’re not a child, and you tell him as much.

• as much as you love each other, arguments can get messy. you know so much about each other that it’s difficult not to go for the soft parts in an argument, and you just snap.

• they’re probably running his hands through his hair, tears of frustration and pent up feelings slipping down his cheeks and catching the light of the many candles around the shop, making them glister strangely beneath the low light.

• “asra, you’re being ridiculous. how in the arcana am i supposed to know about who i was if you won’t fucking tell me?” you shout at them, crystals and glass bottles clinking together on the shelves.

• asra breaks, finally raising his voice as well, telling you that you’re acting like a child. you feel a twisted feeling of satisfaction at his loss of control. at least they’re actually treating you like a person— but you’re still so frustrated.’why can’t he just see that you’re not a china doll, easily broken and delicately made?

•you’re screaming now, tears blurring your vision. all you see is red. “if i’m acting like such a child then why did you even bother bringing me back? you should have just fucking left me to rot beneath the lazaret if you won’t so much as—” you’re cut off with a sharp crack.

• asra’s stronger than they look, and he wasn’t thinking as he lashed out in anger and pain, so you probably stumble back into the shelves behind you, or onto the counter of the shop.

• you touch your hand to your hot cheek with a dull feeling of surprise. it’s as if everything is through a haze, your gaze flickering up to meet asra’s horrified one as you take a step back, a dry sob heaving through your chest as your knees give out and you sink to the floor.

• “mc, i’m so sorry, i can’t— i don’t— please. i’m so sorry,” he stumbles over his words as he crouches before you, giving you enough space that you could easily leave. you don’t, and he breathes out slowly as they reach towards you and gently, heartbreakingly softly, cups your face to turn it towards him. he inhales sharply as he takes in your bruised cheekbone, red already beginning to spread outwards in the shape of his hand, and he flinches to see that he’s hurt you, his beloved apprentice.

• he opens his arms slowly, hesitantly, and you sink into them, burying your face in his scarves and then drawing back slightly with a faint hiss as your cheek touches the fabric, and he lets out a sob as well, burying his face in your sweet-smelling hair. murmurs “i’m sorry, i’m so sorry,” into you over and over again, rocking you back and forth on the floor of the shop.

• he’ll hurt for weeks after, even after the bruise fades, he’ll simply refuse to touch you for days after the incident. whispers “but what if i hurt you,” his voice breaking at the mere thought of it, and you cradle him to you, stroking his cheek as he shakes.

nadia

• the argument was probably about her refusing to ask for help. she’s been alone for so long that the refusal simply comes naturally. she has to prove that she can be successful alone, that she can make something of herself without anyone.

• at first, you tell her gently that she can trust you, that you’re always here for her, and that she doesn’t have to do this alone— but she doesn’t want to hear it, telling you insistently that she doesn’t need any help.

• “your dark circles would say otherwise, nadi! you can’t keep going on like this!” you tell her, your voice strained as you lay a hand on her arm. you just want to help her, but she won’t listen to you. “i can do it myself,” she tells you coldly, pulling away from you and turning back to her work. “i don’t need your help. i never have.”

• you feel the hurt blossom in your chest, but you try to push it down as you close her books, smudging the ink on a document by mistake. “nadi, please.” you tell her, but she doesn’t even seem to hear you as she opens her books and sets her jaw, looking at the ruined document. you bite your lip in dismay and go to apologise, but she cuts in before you get the chance. “you ruin everything. you’re such a nuisance, can you not find anything better to do with your time than to bother me? i am the countess of vesuvia, and i don’t need your help.” she’s shouting by the end of her outburst, and you recoil, hurt now showing across your face— but it’s quickly replaced by anger.

• you laugh disbelievingly, your voice spiteful and pained as you speak. “you don’t need my help? well that’s certainly a different tune than the one you were singing when you came to me in the middle of the night, asking for my help. and even then i gave it unbegrudgingly. you’re so stubborn, nadia! you’re so ridiculously naïve that you can’t even see that not everybody’s against you. so your sisters acted like every older sibling the world over, and excluded you from a few games. you carry grudges as if the world’s out to get you and nobody seeks to help you. you’re such a child! why—” your screaming cuts off at the sharp crack.

• you cry out at the sudden flare of pain. nadia’s also a lot stronger than she looks— i mean, she’s a master sword-fighter. and so, you stumble backwards into the marble table opposite her desk, turning away from her to catch your breath, your figure shaking with quiet sobs. everything seems to fall away, and you hold your arms around yourself in a poor attempt to keep your paroxysms of sobs quiet.

• nadia is completely silent. the jarring force snapped her out of whatever tired grumpiness she had been wallowing in, and now she’s just looking at her hands, a look of absolute horror twisting her features as she takes in the hand, resting palm-down on her knees, that she used to— to— she can’t even think about it. she has betrayed your trust, used your relationship, built on a foundation of love and mutual respect, to hurt you. it’s as if she’s seeing the world through a haze of disbelief. she’s taken advantage of your love for her, she’s physically violated you, and the thought of that leaves her physically ill. hot tears drop steadily into her lap, as she turns her hands over, and her eyes widen even more, if possible, with horror. blood glisters thickly on her index finger, coating the closest section to her palm where a golden ring sits. the countess of vesuvia never takes her rings off during the day, and she’s snapped out of her daze by the quiet hiss that comes from where you stand.

•when the first tears stream down your face, you hiss at the sharp pain, touching your fingers gently to your face and wincing as they come into contact with… is that a wound? you stare at them as they come away a deep, garnetine red. your hair is sticking to the blood running down your face from the wound. you sob dryly as the pain sets in, and by the gods it stings. it seems that even the air twists into your opened skin, burning sharply. you’re so lost in the mist of disbelief you barely notice when nadia comes up behind you.

• “my love?” her voice comes, softly, and you stiffen as she lays a hand on your upper arm. she withdraws it quickly as her voice breaks. “please, mc. say anything. look at me, i beg of you.” you don’t say anything for a minute before you inhale softly and turn to her.

• something in nadia breaks. she lifts shaking fingers up to her mouth as your eyes meet hers, and she takes in what she’s done to you. she’s sliced your upper-cheek open from just short of the bridge of your nose to almost the edge of your face. and the cut is deep. bruising spreads around it, in the shape of her hand, and she lets out a sob before dropping to her knees, taking your hand in hers. “by the arcana, mc, i am so, so sorry— i don’t know— i can’t— please, my love, i am so sorry,” she presses her forehead to your hand before you start to cry, sinking to your knees as well and burying your face in your hands, your shoulders shaking. you hiss softly as you draw your hand away and it comes away a glistening, wine-dark red.

• you flinch away from her as she comes to envelop you in a hug. “don’t. please,” you say softly, pulling yourself away from her. you leave bloodstains on the floor. her eyes hold inexplicable sorrow and remorse in them, as she nods haltingly, her heart breaking as she realises— you’re… afraid of her. later, she’ll bury her head into her pillow and sob her heart out but for now, she needs you to know to not be afraid of her. she loves you, you know that— and you need to know she’ll never violate the trust you put in her again.

• “mc… please. i’m so, so inexplicably sorry for what i’ve done to you. i promise it will never happen again.” her voice is soft, and she speaks to you as if you’re a wounded deer she’s found in the palace gardens, her voice breaking as she lets you see that she’s approaching you, her arms in front of her as she holds them out softly when she’s quite close to you.

• you look at her, meet her eyes with yours, and slowly settle into her embrace as she lets out a quiet sob of relief, burying her head in your hair. you pull away with a quiet gasp of pain when her hair meets your wound, and she cups your face (your good side) softly, stroking your cheek with her thumb as you close your eyes and she moves closer to you, giving you the time to pull away before her lips meet your forehead and she kisses you there gently before pressing one just above your cut and pulling you back to her, minding your cheek. you cry softly into her chest, and she does so into your hair. the two of you stay there until the blood starts to dry on your cheek and she stands, helping you up.

• “i’m taking you to the infirmary, dearest one.” “but… nadia.” you gesture to the state you’re in with a raised eyebrow. blood stains your collar and had dripped down your cheek in steady rivulets— and now your entire cheek is coated in blood. the cut itself is deep and thorough, splitting the skin so that the flesh beneath is easily visible, and the black, blue, and red flesh around your cut in the shape of nadia’s hand is enough that there is no room to doubt how your injury happened. “i’m your partner. there’s nobody else that would have done this— your entire court will know.” you look at her gently. “i can hide this.”

• and yet again, nadia’s heart is absolutely crushed. broken. shattered. “my heart, you should not have to hide what i have done. we’re going to the infirmary.”

• the entire way there, nadia weathers the stares and whispers with, for once, a bent head. you tighten your fingers around her hand— you know how important the favour of the court is. when you finally arrive, and you have to explain, haltingly, how you were injured, nadia gets a few looks of unbridled disgust as your injuries are treated. you squeeze her hand every now and again, and she looks at you gratefully. her eyes darken as you bite your lip roughly when the antiseptic meets it, your eyes watering as she strokes your hand, never taking her eyes away from you.

• afterwards, will absolutely doubt herself as a leader and a partner. no matter if you forgive her, no matter that the bruise fades and the wound heals, she’ll still always linger on your scar when she’s kissing your face, she’ll still murmur “i’m sorry, i’m so sorry, darling,” into your hair for months after.

• if anyone is so much as even vaguely disdainful towards you with respects to your scar, you’ll literally have to talk her down from having them thrown out/arrested. you forgive her, and she loves you with all of her— but when dark feelings surface now there’s absolutely nothing you can do that will even get a shadow of a rise out of her. is just calm and collected. never so much as raises her voice at you.

• will 100% look at you as you sleep and hate herself for harming you in any way.

hope you enjoyed the angst fest!! these were so long— but i’ll do the next four periodically:)

#nadia the arcana #nadia x mc #nadia headcanons #nadia satrinava #countess nadia #the arcana nadia #asra the arcana #asra x mc #the arcana angst #angst headcanon #asra headcanons #asra alzanar #the arcana asra

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zodiakuroo · 4 years

Text

Cupid’s Bullet

Dabi comes home with a very special Valentine’s Day surprise for you.

Pairing: Dabi x Fem!Reader

Contains: dubcon/noncon, mentions of death, unhealthy relationship, gun play, fear play, forced orgasms, squirting, mindbreak, angst (if you squint?), quirk usage, one slap but it’s a hard one :3, overstimulation, creampie

Word count: 5.3k

Notes: pls this title is so cringe but it's like bullet instead of arrow cause... ya know but anyways happy valentine’s day from scumbag boyfie!dabi

Dating a villain meant that your relationship was unconventional to say the least. For one, public dates were out of the question, unless you wanted it to end in destruction of public property and some scorched heroes. You also always had to have some kind of flimsy excuse for your family and friends when they asked to meet your elusive boyfriend. In addition, you had to accept the fact that he would have to disappear sometimes for weeks on end to do his boss’ bidding.

There was also the small matter of arson, murder and theft and a multitude of other crimes that you’d prefer not to know about. And while you weren’t necessarily okay with a lot of what Dabi did, you loved him. You loved him so much that turning a blind eye was so easy it made you question your own morality. He didn’t scare you either. Not in the slightest, because you knew in his own special way, he loved you too.

In fact it ran much deeper than that. On his worst days, Dabi could set the world ablaze until nothing was left because in the end he didn’t care about anyone or anything, not even himself. Until he met you, he says. He tells you that in you, he’s found something to tether him to this existence.

Ok so maybe he didn’t use those words exactly, but he doesn’t have to. You know that’s what he means when he spoils you with expensive, stolen clothes and jewellery, when he offers to burn alive any person who makes you even the tiniest bit upset and when he comes home to you bloodied and beaten, trusting you to take care of him.

In summary, your relationship forced you to give up on having any “normal couple” experiences. That included, celebrating anniversaries and silly holidays like Valentine’s Day so you never bothered to keep track of them. It could hardly be considered a sacrifice when you compared those things to what you actually got from your relationship.

Dabi had been gone for close to a month now and you didn’t expect him back anytime soon, not knowing where he was or what he was doing. In fact the very last thing you expected was for him to creep into your bedroom in the middle of night and rouse you from your peaceful sleep with a soft kiss on your temple.

You don’t jump out of bed in a panic, like any sane person would. Instead you let out a satisfied hum, surrounded by the scent of burnt flesh, ash and menthol, feeling warmth bloom in your chest. It should be unpleasant but its Dabi’s scent and you’ve missed it. You’ve missed him. You pick your phone up from your night stand, squinting your eyes at the bright light that makes them sting.

Sunday 14 February, 2:43am

“Welcome home.” You mumble groggily, trying your best to fight off your tired body urging you to go back to sleep.

Instead of replying, he greets you by pressing his mouth to yours. You let out a quiet gasp, startled by the sudden display of affection. His lips are chapped but that doesn’t matter, your tongue darts out to moisten them before your lips lock into a gentle kiss.

You reach up, weaving your hands through his dark hair in an attempt to draw him closer but he retreats, opting instead to turn on the bedside lamp but keeping his other hand behind his back. “Sit up doll. Got a surprise for ya.”

Any thoughts of sleep were long forgotten as soon as his lips met yours but now he’s really piqued your interest. You push yourself up against the headboard and sit cross-legged. You look up at Dabi expectantly. Your boyfriend is smiling wide, skin pulled so taut you think one of his staples might give out. He reveals to you what he has hidden behind his back. A square black box, wrapped in a cobalt satin ribbon.

It’s so cliché you can’t help but let out a small snort. “What is it?”

“It’s a gift. You know… for Valentine’s Day?” He says as though it should be obvious to you.

Your heart swells at the gesture. It really was a surprise. Not in a bad way, you just knew he wasn’t your average boyfriend and that was okay. You didn’t want him to be.

“Well now I feel awful. I didn’t get you anything.” You pout as he props the box onto your lap.

“’S like a toy… so it’s technically for you but kinda for both of us.” It’s unusual to see Dabi this excited. The way he’s bouncing on the balls of his feet, eyes filled with mirth makes you all the more curious.

“Like a sex toy?” A giggle escapes you as you undo the bow.

“Are we playing fuckin’ 20 questions? Just open it.” He presses you.

You huff at his impatience but you don’t comment, not wanting to wait any longer either. You remove the lid of the box only to find something wildly unexpected.

A revolver?

You look up at your boyfriend with confusion etched on your face but his gleeful grin doesn’t falter. You’ve never seen a sex toy like this so you pick up the article to test its weight. It’s definitely the real deal.

“Dabi, this isn’t a toy.” You state matter-of-factly.

He merely rolls his eyes and says “Doll, when you can incinerate someone with a flick of your wrist, that little thing is definitely considered a toy?”

“O-okay? What do you want to do with it?” You ask, placing offending object onto your nightstand, not really wanting to hold on to it anymore, the metallic smell making you feel queasy.

“Ever heard of Russian Roulette?” Dabi, picks up the abandoned item, looking down at it with pride.

“What?” You furrow your eyebrows as nervousness starts to creep into your system and you instinctively move to back away from him but Dabi is quick to pull you back.

“It’s real easy doll. No need to look so scared.” He crawls on top of you, caging you in with his limbs. “6 chambers. 1 bullet. All you have to do is be a good girl for me. If not, I pull the trigger and we see what happens.”

The look on his face is positively demented. Azure eyes wide and bright, patchwork face contorted into a a sinister smile, white teeth and silver staples gleaming in the dim light.

“Baby,” you hope the pet name will placate him. It usually does. “I don’t know about thi-“

CLICK

You let out a shriek as your body jolts in fear but you’re unable to move with his weight pressing on top of you.

“You see now doll?” He clicks his tongue behind his teeth. “You’ve gone and wasted a shot.”

Dabi climbs off of you and you’re left lying there with your heart hammering violently in your chest, body trembling, still reeling from the shock of what just happened. Reeling from the shock of what is happening

“You gonna listen now? Gonna be good?” Dabi prompts, rolling the gun around in his hand.

All you can do is nod as your eyes being to water. The uneasy feeling in your stomach only grows worse as your mind races with the possible things Dabi has in store for you.

“Good. Now strip.” He command and like a good girl, you obey.

Your arms feel like they’re made of lead, moving rigidly to take off your shirt (one of Dabi’s old ones). You can’t stop the tears from falling as you pull down your panties, fat droplets roll down your cheeks, desperately trying to swallow the sounds of your sobbing.

This can’t be happening. It’s Dabi. He wouldn’t hurt you. He promised you that.

“Oh cut the fuckin’ waterworks.” He snaps. “As long as you listen, you’ll be fine.”

You try to calm yourself with deep breaths, not wanting to irritate him any further.

When you turn to face him, he’s leaning back on his haunches, one hand resting on his thigh, the other lazily gripping the revolver. “Fair warning, I’m more of a ‘shoot first, ask questions later’ kinda guy. But you know that already.” He thumbs the cylinder, making it spin. “Now, touch yourself for me.”

Breathing is difficult. No matter how much you try, it’s like you can’t get enough air into your lungs. Thinking only of gun in your boyfriend’s hand, you still you bring your own hand between your legs, but you can’t concentrate, what with the dread taking over your body making it tough to have any control of your body. Your movements are stiff and apparently not up to Dabi’s standards.

He only scoffs before-

CLICK

You scream again, body nearly flying off the bed before you curl yourself up into a ball. The fright is enough to stop your heart. For a second you believe it has.

“Doll,” Dabi’s gruff voice brings you back to earth, reminding you that you’re very much alive and whether or not you stay that way is entirely up to him. “You’re ruining my surprise. Got it ‘specially for you and now you’re being a brat.” He quirks an eyebrow at you, almost like a challenge.

“So-sorry.-“ your voice breaks. “I’ll be good.”

You’re still struggling to comprehend how any of this is real. You thought you knew him. You thought he loved you. And here he is, treating your life like it’s a game. You can’t help but think that this is your own fault. You thought you were above everyone else, the exception to your boyfriend’s villain behaviour.

“Yeah?” His voice drops to a whisper. “Then show me.” He challenges you. Dabi slips off his t-shirt and moves between your legs to get a better view, pressing on your knees to split them apart.

Self-preservation kicks in. There is one way out of this alive and that’s doing what he says. You spread yourself even wider, showing him all of you. Your hands, glide over your smooth thighs, kneading the pudgy flesh as you get closer and closer your sex, teasing yourself the way he would. Your fingers find your clit and just a little pressure makes your eyes melt shut. Probably for best anyway. It makes it easier to imagine anything but this. You drag those fingers through your delicate folds, letting out breathy sighs as heat begins to bloom between your thighs.

You pretend, its Dabi’s touch. In your mind’s eye you see the two of you, limbs tangled with Dabi on top, resting his forehead against yours. It’s one of those nights where he wants to go slow. So slow that the sensation of his cock dragging in and out of is you bordering on torturous. It’s one of those nights where he wants to lay his head on your chest, mouthing at your breasts, laving your nipples with his wet tongue while you tell him, in that sensual voice that you love him, that he’s perfect, that he’s yours. Because it’s one of those nights, where everything feels like too much for him and the only person that he really has on his side is you.

It’s not long before you’re leaking. Somewhere, deep in the back of your mind, there’s a voice chastising you for being so easy for him… even now. There’s almost no resistance as two of your fingers, press into your entrance. Your fingers are no match for Dabi’s, they never hit all those deep, hidden spots that make you see stars but still, you start to move them slowly, brushing your thumb over your clit every so often.

“Look at me.” You feel his breath waft over your pussy.

Eyelids fluttering open and you meet his gaze. It stuns you a little and your hands come to a standstill. He is handsome, breathtakingly so, even though he thinks you’re lying whenever you when you tell him that. The way he stares at you, with love and adoration in his eyes, it’s almost like the fantasy you were just imagining. Almost like the fantasy you’ve been living in this whole time. It’s enough to make you forget the situation you’re in. Then the muzzle of the gun is pressed to your clit, snapping you back to reality fast enough to give you whiplash.

“Fucking slut.” He growls and smacks your hand away from your pussy.

You jerk as he starts to move it the gun circles over your sensitive nub and then dipping down to your tight slit to gather up your juices.

“All those fuckin’ tears but look how wet you are.” He says more to himself than you as he admires the way your slick leaves a sheen on the barrel. With his eyes trained directly on yours, his perfectly pink tongue pokes out to lick it clean, groaning at the taste.

The next thing you know his arms are wrapped around your legs, guiding them over his broad shoulders. He kisses you on your mons before his tongue begins greedily lapping at your hole. “Tastes so good doll.” He mutters with his nose pressed against your clit. He slips the wet muscle inside of you making you whine. You reflexively grab onto his black hair, tugging on the stands and he lets out a groan of approval. He moves up to your clit, circling it with his tongue before suckling on it. While he brushes just the tip of a finger over your cunt, making it clench around nothing while you desperately buck your hips, in an attempt to have it inside you.

The way he’s eating you out is almost romantic?

Or it would be, if it weren’t for the metal digging into your flesh.

“Doll,” He places a sloppy kiss on your clit, lighting dragging his teeth over the hood. “Want you to squirt for me.”

A lump forms in your throat. You can count on one hand the amount of times that has happened. You’re not sure of the odds that you’d be able to right now and it’s not a gamble you’re willing to take. “Dabi, I don’t think I can….”

CLICK

You thrash, screaming so loud it makes your throat burn.

Dabi still holds you open, keeping you in place. “I wasn’t asking.” He makes sure to maintain eye contact as he drops a fat glob of spit right on to your clit before diving face first into your cunt once again.

He pushes 2 of his long, lithe fingers into your tight entrance. It’s unexpected and you wince. He drags his right hand (the one holding the gun) up your torso, resting the muzzle underneath your breast, right over your racing heart. A reminder of what’s at stake. He envelopes your sensitive clit with his lips, moving his fingers in tandem with the suction. You’re consumed by desire as Dabi brings you so close to the edge.

“Dee-Deeper please.” Your pant out.

He smiles against your mound before complying with your request. “Right here?” His fingers press against that squishy patch deep inside you and your eyes roll back.

“Nnnggg yeah.” You’re barely able to mewl out. You dig your heels into his back and grind against his face, chasing your high. Dabi keeps hitting that spot with astonishing precision but you hold off for as long as you can, letting the pleasurable sensation build until the pressure in your core becomes unbearable. When it finally snaps because you can’t hold it anymore, your eyes squeeze shut, hands flying to his biceps and you dig your nails into the sinewy muscle. You gush around his fingers and all over his face. Dabi doesn’t move though, flicking your clit with his tongue repeatedly until you’re trembling and whimpering, pushing him away from your pussy. He finally relents, a pop echoing around the room as he lets go of you.

He gives you a predatory look, scared face and chest wet with the remnants of your orgasm. “You made such a mess baby but I’m glad you’re finally having fun.” He’s just as out of breath as you are but far more composed.

Your head is still fuzzy and limbs are still twitching but your boyfriend doesn’t let you recover. “C’mon, doll. My turn.” He begins to undo his belt, silver buckle clinking as he rushes to drag it through the loops of his jeans

You pull yourself on to all fours, now eye level with his crotch. He pulls down his pants and boxers in one go, his erection almost hitting you in the face.

“You’ve been lucky so far.” He taps the bulbous head of his cock on your lips, smearing your lips with the pre that dribbles out of it. “But I wouldn’t test it if I were you. Open.”

Your mouth is already watering at the sight of him. So long, thick and veiny. It’s disgusting actually, this Pavlovian response. He fucks you deeper, stretches you wider and makes you feel better than anyone ever had. You wonder briefly, if anyone ever could fuck you as good as Dabi.

You stick out your tongue and he slides himself between your lips, groaning as he pushes into your mouth, slowly, inch by inch. He fills your mouth completely and you shut your eyes, savouring the salty taste of him but you feel the muzzle press against your temple and making them shoot open. “Atta girl. Lemme see those pretty eyes.” He grunts as he plunges into your throat. You bob your head up and down his shaft, the hand at the back of your head setting a brutal pace. The room is filled with the sounds of you gagging and his hefty sac smacking against your chin.

“So good to me baby.” He tilts his head back, losing himself in the pleasure. The wet heat of your mouth surrounding him while your saliva leaks out, dripping down his balls. Dabi is big and heavy, stretching you so wide and making you jaw ache from the weight of him. You’re already lightheaded from the lack of air, no matter how much you try breathing through your nose. You don’t dare to complain though.

He pulls out of your mouth slowly, stretching a string of saliva from the head of his dick to your tongue that’s hanging out of your mouth. You pant like a bitch attempting to catch your breath. He doesn’t give you much time before he’s in your throat again, back to fucking your face.

“I love you so much. You love me?” He sounds so sweet, totally blissed out.

He stops thrusting and tilts your head up to look at him, blinking tear-clumped lashes. You try utter a ‘Yes, I love you.’ but with his shaft gagging you, it comes out all garbled. The muscles in your throat convulse around the deep intrusion. “You’d do anything for me right?” He asks, jabbing the muzzle even harder into your temple, finger resting lightly on the trigger. You nod, watching Dabi lose his composure bit by bit. “Yeah. That’s why you’re my girl.” He pushes himself even deeper inside you, making you finally take all of him, until your nose meets his pubic hair and holding you there. “Fuck.”

CLICK

“Hmmhhhhngggh” You squeal around him but you can’t pull off because of the grip he has on your scalp. When he lets you go you’re choking and coughing up a lewd mixture of spit and pre-cum.

“Wh- Why” You blubber, voice hoarse. You don’t understand. You were doing exactly what he asked. You were being good.

“Sorry baby. Felt so good, my finger slipped.” He doesn’t even try to hide his mischievous smirk. The fucker is definitely not sorry.

You want to beg him to stop this ridiculous game because you see now there’s no way you can win because Dabi doesn’t play fair.

He doesn’t give you the chance though, already shuffling off his bottoms all the way and propping himself up against the headboard. “C’mon pretty baby.” He tugs on your ankle. Wanna see you bounce on my dick.”

You clumsily position yourself atop his lap quickly, before you can even think about it. You know he doesn’t need a reason to pull that trigger but still, you don’t want to give him one.

He grinds his tip along your heat, piercings dragging across your clit over and over again. It’s something he does whenever you have sex, to rile you up. And just like all those other times, it’s working. Circumstances be damned. “Needa feel this hot little pussy. Give it to me doll.” He murmurs against the shell of your ear.

You nod as you lift yourself off of him to hover your dripping wet hole over his hard dick. You slowly squat down on onto him, the fat head stretching you out, burning with every inch you take. You mewl, making futile attempts to blink away tears. You get halfway before you have to stop, resting your hands on his shoulders trying to gain leverage. You’re outright crying now, wet droplets landing on Dabi’s chest.

“’S matter doll.”

I’m terrified. You yell in your head but stay silent, choosing to focus on relaxing your ever-tightening hole in order to take more of him.

“Oh, I know.” He coos, voice dripping with condescension. “’S too big for your tiny cunny.” He leans forward to kiss away the salty tears. “But you can take it. I know you can.” He cups your jaw, stroking your cheek with a calloused thumb. “You can do it for me”

You start to move slowly up and down, using gravity to force more of his monstrous cock inside you with shallow movements. You really are trying your best but that’s apparently not good enough for Dabi and he lets you know that by pressing the barrel of the gun into your stomach. You freeze, horrified, more tears start falling from your eyes. You open your mouth to beg him to just give you a little time. You’re trying.

“Quit being a baby and just take it.” He says before you even get the chance.

“I’m trying Dabi, please just-“

CLICK

He cuts off your plea. He’s not interested in your excuses.

The rotation of the cylinder sends vibrations through your abdomen. Amidst the shock, you release your grip on his shoulders and impale yourself on his shaft by mistake. The combination of the searing stretch and the blunt head of his cock kissing your cervix is so overwhelming that you collapse forward, head falling on to your boyfriend’s chest. You feel the rumbles of his chuckles while he’s quite literally splitting you open.

“See? Knew you could. Just needed a little scare. Isn’t that right.” He rubs your back as if to comfort you. He lets out a low whistle. “But looks like you’re all out of chances doll. Now bounce.” He gives you a spank with an inhumanly warm hand, making you squeal and leaving your cheek tender.

Your hands find purchase on his shoulders again. Dabi’s sapphire eyes are practically glowing, daring you to be stupid enough to defy him one more time.

You pull off almost entirely, keeping just his tip inside of you, before spearing his shaft into you again.

“Good girl.” When he praises you with that raspy voice makes you keen and desperate for more of it.

His hand snakes its way up your torso to cup one of your breasts. Your back arches, pushing into his scorching hot touch, forgetting momentarily about his other hand and what he’s holding in it. He gropes your chest, tweaks and twists at your nipples, leaving red, inflamed hand prints in his wake. You’re practically delirious with pleasure, babbling out incoherent streams of his name along with “yes” and “more”. All the while, he murmurs praises about how good you are and how much he loves you. It’s confusing and you can’t process any of it.

“Who owns this perfect pussy?”

“Dabi. Fuck. Dabi.” Your tongue lolls out of your mouth in the most obscene way, drooling down your chin. Your plush walls pulse around him as he hits that sensitive spot every time you sink down on him.

“That’s right it’s all fuckin mine. My pretty baby.” Dabi’s eyes are focus on where your two bodies are connected watching the translucent ring of your cream appear and disappear as you ride him.

“Preeeettyyy.” You slur and he laughs at how fucked out you are, brain completely jumbled between the fear, the pain and the bliss all combined into ecstasy.

“Doll.” He groans. “I feel ya squeezin’ me. You gonna cum?”

He’s right. You nod as you feel that coil tightening again, threatening to snap at any second. The man finally starts putting in work, pounding into you every time you pull off of him. Dabi abandons the gun in favour of playing with your clit, rubbing quick sloppy circles. “Yeah? Gonna cream and gush around me? Want you to baby.” He buries his head in the crook of your neck, sucking, biting and licking while he assaults your sopping wet pussy. “C’mon doll, please.”

With that you orgasm. He grabs your hips pulling you flush against his thighs, fucking you through your orgasm, rolling his hips up into you until your high finally subsides.

He doesn’t let you catch your breath before he’s got the revolver pressed hard underneath your chin. “Now make me cum.” You almost collapse but the harsh grip he has on your hair suspends you upright.

Your mind is so foggy and Dabi gives you a small smile, appreciating the perplexed look in your droopy eyes. But he’s not done with you yet.

“Hey.” You’re ripped from your daze, when he slaps you across the face, sending your head swinging to the side. “Don’t pass out on me now.”

“So-sorry! ‘M sorry!” You grovel as you slam your tired body down on his dick once again, trying to ignore the throbbing on your cheek, the ringing in your ears, and the ache in your battered cunt. You’re so sensitive from your last orgasm but you don’t have a choice and you don’t dare deny him anything. Your thighs are quaking and burning with every movement but your boyfriend is unimpressed.

“You can do better than that doll.” He lets out a bitter laugh, enjoying every second of tormenting you. “It’s like you want your brains splattered on the ceiling.”

You start crying again, shaking your head frantically. In the time that you’ve been with Dabi, you’ve learned certain tricks, you know he likes it, but in this panic/lust induced frenzy, you can’t remember any of them. Instead, you bounce, mindlessly on him while your gummy walls clench tighter around him every time he nudges at your a-spot. Your legs are going numb from all the effort and you plop down, limp onto his lap, taking him to the hilt.

Dabi tsks at you, reminding you that you can’t rest just yet. You swivel your hips, grinding your pelvis against his while he’s buried deep in your wet heat. You pray to whatever deity is listening that he’s getting close, you’re not sure how much more you can take.

“If I don’t bust in the next 5 seconds.” His hand finds your clit again, you grind across his fingers has you rock against him. “Bang!” He emphasises the word by bringing a heated palm down on your ass.

A choked sob bubbles at the back of your throat, making him snicker

Hands pressed to his chest, you ride him like a woman possessed, the last bits of adrenaline kicking in. Your sloppy cunt squelches every time you drive yourself down on his cock just motivating you to fuck him harder.

“Five.” He grits out.

“Dabi, please!” But you’re met with icy, apathetic eyes staring back at you, feeling the terror that the rest of the city does when they so much as hear his name.

“Four.” He rubs your already raw clit, faster and you can feel another orgasm building, much quicker than your last two.

Your body feels so heavy but you can’t stop moving, not unless you want him to- “Please cum!” You beg. “Need your cum.”

“Three.”

He starts to fuck up into you again with unforgiving force.

“Wh-Why?!” is all you can manage as your mind starts to fog up again, the need to come becoming all the more urgent.

“Two.” He ignores your question, transfixed on your tits bounce in his face. You’re getting close to your third orgasm of the night and it seems Dabi is determined to get you there.

You still can’t believe this is real. You never thought that Dabi would treat you like this. You were supposed to be special.

Or at least that’s what he told you.

Moreover, you can’t believe how your own body is betraying you. You can’t believe you’re actually going to cum. Again.

“One.”

You cry out his name one last time, unsure if it’s out of fear or pleasure. You dig your nails into his arms again, in a feeble attempt to ground yourself as you cum around him. The orgasm that rips through you makes it difficult for you to be sure of anything.

What you are sure of is the fact that there was no bang or bullet.

Just one last CLICK (practically drowned out by your screaming) and the sensation of Dabi’s hot cum flooding your womb. He has a bruising grip on your hips, gun now discarded, and he ruts up into to making sure to stuff your cunt absolutely full of him. He begins to laugh as he softens inside you.

Your head is still spinning but once you’re able to push yourself off of him, you can finally make sense of what just happened.

He was fucking with you.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” You yell, using weak and quivering arms to throw pillows at him while you cry so hard it makes you dry heave.

Your asshole of a boyfriend starts cackling, clutching his abdomen as if he just pulled the world’s funniest prank while your heart is beating so hard and fast you think it might break through your ribcage.

“You should have seen your face. You were so fuckin’ scared.”

You become nauseous, feeling bile rising in your throat as you come to a sickening realisation.

This is not your Dabi. This is the Dabi that the rest of the world gets to see.

Evil, sadistic, merciless. This is the real Dabi.

You attempt to scramble off of the bed to get away from him, feeling overwhelmed by the humiliation. But Dabi grabs your wrist and yanks you into his chest, wrapping you up in his arms. A gesture you used to treasure but now it just made your skin crawl. “C’mon Doll you didn’t think I was being serious did you?”

You writhe in his hold, hitting against his hard, toned chest with pathetic fists. “Don’t be such a crybaby. It was just a joke.” He strokes your hair oh so tenderly. But you won’t fall for that again. Dabi is a villain through and through. You know that now.

It’s no use fighting him off though, all the fight in you is used up. You don’t know what else to do. So you do the easy thing: nuzzle your head into his chest, tremors rocking your body as you hiccup, while he holds you. That way you can pretend that you feel safe with him, just like you used to.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, doll. I love you.”

#dabi is just the worst huh #sorry about the angst i honestly don’t know how that happened #dark content #dark fic #mha smut #tw dubcon #bnha imagines #bnha smut #dabi imagine #dabi smut #dabi x reader #mha x reader #tw slapping #tw noncon #tw unhealthy relationship #tw gunplay #tw death mention

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yourdeepestfathoms · 3 years

Note

I always think of like, the reversal of what happened with the dimitrescu family in the game, like all three daughters die, lady D goes absolutely insane trying to kill ethan. But what if by some miracle or smth ethan had managed to kill lady d first? I think all three of the daughters would go absolutely apeshit hunting ethan down and ripping him to shreds because 'you killed our mama'

And I dunno I was thinking about this last night and decided someone else should suffer with me

I’ve thought of this, too!!

After they kill Ethan they stand around their mother’s broken body in silence, unsure on what to do or say anymore. What was there to do without their mother to guide them?

Ethan’s body is burned. The flames devour his flesh in their stead. None of them can bring themselves to feast upon him for what he’s done. It hurts too much.

They bury Alcina in the garden, bundling up in several layers so they can give her a proper funeral service, despite the harsh Romanian winter. They kneel in the snow-covered dirt, drinking from her veins one last time. Her blood had never tasted so stale before.

Ashes. It’s all ashes.

They hang her hat on the tree her grave sat beneath. Nobody says a word. Tears freeze to their faces. One-by-one, they leave.

There is nobody to greet them inside.

Mother Miranda, Moreau, Donna and Angie, even Heisenberg come to pay their respects. They all say the same thing, over and over again: I’m so sorry for your loss. She was a great mother. She loved you all dearly. None of it matters. Not any more. Who cares if she loved them or not if she is no longer there to give them that affection?

Time passes. Alcina’s death is hard on everyone. Daniela spends a lot of her days locked in Alcina’s bedroom, curled up in the blankets, crying. Cassandra vents her despair and anger on the maidens, practically living down in the dungeon, torturing and slaughtering. Bela, as the oldest, takes up the family business, but it’s so hard, so fucking hard because she doesn’t know how to do anything and it reminds her so much of her mom and she fears failure severely.

The sisters begin to grow distance, as they’re rarely around each other anymore, all too busy with their unhealthy coping mechanisms. They can’t depend on each other for comfort because they can’t even comfort themselves.

One day, six lonely months later, Bela goes out and visits her mother’s grave.

“Hi, Mama,” she says. “I brought you some things.”

She brandishes a bouquet of flowers to the grave, as if Alcina were actually standing there and looking grateful over the gift.

“They’re roses,” Bela tells the tomb. She swallowed thickly, biting back the lump welling up in her throat. “They reminded me of you.”

She tentatively sets the flowers down on the dirt.

“I—” The words catch in her throat. She scratches at her neck with one claw, trying to muster up the will to speak. “I was thinking about maybe trying different mixtures for the wine.” She pauses, took a breath, then goes on, forcing out a giggle alongside her sentence, “It’s probably gonna turn out surprise gross, though.” And then, much quieter, wringing her hands together, “I wish you were here to do it with me.”

Silence falls upon the girl and the grave. Bela’s hands are clasped tight and she brings them to her stomach, imagining what it would be like to find absolution in her claws. She would plunge and drag and drag and drag until there was nothing left of her but shredded flesh and blood, but that would not be enough, not for her. It would not give her her mother back. It would not give her the shouts and the laughs and the boisterous cries at all hours of the morning and night. That was not what Alcina would have done if it had been Bela that was murdered on that fateful day.

But she wasn’t as strong as Alcina.

Bela doesn’t really realize exactly how loud she is crying until her shaking breath hitches so high it sounds like a squeak. She blinks through the haze of tears and scrubs her eyes with her sleeve, but the merciless flow does not stop.

A little brown bird lands on a grave nearby and fluffs out its wet wings. A grazing deer is munching contently on some wild flowers. Some type of bug is buzzing in the grass somewhere from behind.

Looking around at this all, Bela is shocked by how the world keeps running and running while hers had stopped its run not so long ago.

The summer leaves are dancing around her, whisked from the towering oak trees by foggy gales and sent into a whirling axis in the sky. A humidly warm, but also bone-chillingly cold breeze is trying to offer a comfort that seems to be invisible and impalpable. There can’t be comfort. There can’t be reassurance. The pain is still too loud, the wound is still too raw: her heart and her soul aren’t ready to accept that there is a reason for what has happened; her mind is still trying to distinguish between reality and fantasy, between the soothing effect of a false illusion and the harsh truth of a world deprived by its most beautiful voice.

“Why?” She wonders this so often, but there is only pattering raindrops and whisking nature replying to her, and that lack of words is an absence that stings more than she can accept.

“Why?”

She has wondered for too long but still nothing has come up and maybe it will never be answered because sometimes life is like that, a storm in the middle of a summer day and its lingering residue following her for weeks and months. Maybe one day she’ll stop asking herself that but, for now, it’s just all she can think about, over and over again.

It doesn’t make sense.

Nothing makes sense and it has been like that since she saw the sight, just a few flashes of images in a room, blood and gunfire and a collapsing body, that had stumbled down her life and shattered it. She can still see them behind her eyes, can still feel the way her own heart had stopped beating as a black void started to envelop her. She still feels like she’s down there, trapped in a nightmare that no one knows how to stop or break.

It doesn’t make sense.

There is regret in her body language. There is a baggage full of words that should have been said and things that she should have done. Maybe, if she had done them, nothing would have ever happened.

Bela wishes she could go back in time. She wishes there was a way for her to erase all those tiny mistakes she’s made, all those times she wanted to reach out but, instead, turned her head away because it still hurt. Her mother was—is still—the most important thing in her life and, yet, she let her slip away in fear of what she would say if she showed any signs of weakness. Her image is everything and yet, what is left now? There’s no image to defend, there’s nothing left because Alcina’s death has destroyed everything.

So she wishes. She wonders and wishes that there is a way for her to save just a few lives.

Her life.

There are still tears in her eyes. She wants to believe it’s because of the weather and the wind but it’s just a useless alibi. She lets them fall, not ashamed anymore because there is no one around to watch her. But she feels like a hypocrite, she feels like she doesn’t have the right to cry that loss because she could have done so much to prevent her mother’s absence.

To prevent her death.

She knows it’s the truth, no matter how many times people keep telling her that she’s done nothing to cause the incident. She knows it’s the truth, no matter how many people try to explain how, sometimes, she can’t save everyone. That bad things just happen to good people.

“I’m sorry.”

She knows it’s too late.

She knows that it’s useless because Alcina’s not there to hear those words.

Regrets don’t leave Bela, not even now that she’s standing in front of the consequences of her own ignorance.

It’s her fault.

She keeps telling herself it as if this admission of truth can absolve her sin. It’s her fault because she said she would protect her family but it was always so easy to forget about it: there isn’t ever the need to- she had always been the one that needed help the most in the family it seemed. She had always been the one fate had chosen to deal bad cards: her mental health, her perfectionism, those idiotic statements and those stupid decisions.

But then there was her mother. Her mother’s comforting words, gentle touches, light hearted jokes to make her smile—the way she would just…be there and make things better in ways that were difficult to explain to the world that had never seen her in private.

Why didn’t Bela do the same for her? Or for any of her family members?

“I’m sorry.”

Bela is sorry. She could have done more. She could have told her more.

She should have known better.

Bela should have known better, but she didn’t. She didn’t want to face the truth. She didn’t want to realize that her superhero might have been needing a hero herself and she was too oblivious or too busy or too afraid to be up to the task.

She depended on her mother and now she’s lost.

Alone.

#ask #you may call me the queen of resident evil angst #please and thank you #resident evil village #resident evil 8 #resident evil headcanons #alcina dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu #bela dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #dimitrescu family #dimitrescu daughters #ethan winters

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ask-red-okuri-inu · 2 years

Text

About-Michi

(More professional image to come)

Name: Michiro (prefers ‘Michi’, but answers to either)

Age: 28

Species: Kitsune

Height: 175cm

Personality: On the surface, Michi is a chameleon, changing her demeanor and personality to match her read of the room. She’s a social being who is largely chipper at heart, but good at masking that to be more serious and sometimes even intimidating (if she needs to be). While working, she prefers to take a more mild-mannered approach to dealing with others, pulling the stings as she needs to get the outcome she desires.

But when she’s not being professional...Michi can sometimes be a bit much. She is still very much a kit at heart, and can be loud and over-dramatic around the right company (even if she likes to believe she comes off as shy). She wears her emotions on her sleeves at these times, and to be shown that side of her is a true sign of trust.

Notes:

Michi is the eldest daughter of Toichio’s family, and she greatly admires and supports her youngest brother. As such, she’s not afraid to venture into more human-populated areas than most of the Kitsune Village are. She’s still very amazed by some of huamans’ more recent/foreign innovations, however. She’s also still trying to convince Toichiro to take her shopping.

While she likes to believe it’s well-hidden, she has a gigantic crush on Shizuki, getting very blushy and fidgety when he does anything for her, even just making milk tea. Toichiro teases her relentlessly about it.

Michi is a trans woman. Prior to her coming out, she was one of the top contenders for village head (at least until Tochiro began to show promise). Upon coming out, she withdrew from the competition and encouraged her followers to back her youngest brother. Some did, some didn’t. While she claims to have withdrawn because she came out in order to be true to herself, she was also very tired of the stress and pressure and constant competition.

Shortly thereafter, Keichiro announced that Michi would be undergoing training to be a diplomat for the Village, essentially assuming his role in interactions with other villages when necessary and maintaining good relations with other ayakashi species. He knew her talents and strength, and didn’t want them to go to waste. This is the role she occupies in present day.

She has an ‘it’s complicated’ friendship with Kagemaru. She actually followed after him the night Shizuki refused to return to the Senkitai with him, and the two got into a pretty big battle, their skill evenly matched. Still, Michi was determined to at least show him some kind of friendship, and would actively seek him out to spend time with him (even if that time with fighting in the beginning until she gained his respect). Eventually, by the power of Michi being a relentless, endearing thorn in his side, they did end up on good terms with each other. The time spent together is top secret, and there’s a silent understanding that they don’t discussing anything involving the Senkitai, Kitsune Village, or Shizuki. Should it come down to it, they both understand they might have to fight each other to the death. But for now they’re gonna chill and play with each other’s hair.

Her favorite food is kitsune udon. She doesn’t try to pretend otherwise.

At the time the game takes place, Michi currently has six tails. Like her father, she’ll max out at eight. The kitsunebi she creates can either look like normal fire, or be more purple in color.

Probably more stuff I’ll add later.

((And that’s what I’ve got for her at this time. If you have any questions for her or about her, feel free to ask.

*As a quick note, her life does not directly overlap with Saburo’s. The two are separate characters who don’t interact much (especially since Saburo’s relationship with the local okuri-inu clan is...strained at best), though they can certainly cross paths.

Also the blog name will be changing to match the expanding characters. Maybe Chiyo or Masumi may even appear? If anyone’s interested?))

#undescribed #ayakashi romance reborn #yes I'm sticking my rp blog here again #let's get more ayakoi ocs out there #also open to interacting with yumejoshi

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reidyoulikeabook · 4 years

Text

Right Where You Left Me

Ship: BAU! Gender Neutral! reader x Spencer Reid

#Request - Could you do some angst with “you dont deserve my forgiveness?” Any ship!

Word count: 2.2k

Warnings: Mention of death, violence, injury (not serious), angst, mourning, a lot of tears. Also, swearing, anger, fighting (verbal, not physical.)

Summary: You and Spencer Reid had been together for a year before he ‘died.’ You grieved him. You mourned him.

A/N: Title stolen from my (current) favourite Taylor Swift song. Not sure how I feel about this one but! Here it is anyway! My requests are open & pls feel free to let me know what you think!!

14 days and 30 minutes exactly

You don’t think about the day Spencer Reid died. You can’t, because even remembering he’s dead feels as if an ice bucket has been tipped over your head. Not even now, two weeks later, have you really gotten over the initial shock that you felt. Every waking moment felt like you were trying to solve some kind of never-ending puzzle. Each emotion was overwhelming, too much to process. It felt like things would only start to get better, like everybody promised they would, when you started to be able to name the emotions rather than describe them as the physical sensations they brought on.

And you didn’t think that’d happen anytime soon.

The shared apartment was too much. You hadn’t slept in your bed since he’d been gone, and forbid anyone else from going into the bedroom. It was a sanctuary.

You understood now more than ever why victims families never changed a thing about the room of their loved ones. Every single thing felt deliberate. Theirs. It was a reflection of the time they were most alive, living. A unique snapshot of them in motion. The mess they left that they expected to come home to.

Rationally, you knew that wasn’t true. There wasn’t a sock hanging off Spencer’s bedside table, or a clean cardigan balled up on the floor, for any reason other than he’d been in a rush that morning, and had left an uncharacteristically large mess in his wake. In more ways than one.

***

2 months, 5 days, 8 hours

Being back at work helps somewhat, but the office feels empty without him there to ramble off factoids about anything and everything, to hear Morgan calling him ‘kid’ every five minutes. He only called you that now.

Simmons is nice, really he is. It isn’t his fault he’s there in place of Spencer and you try hard not to feel personally aggrieved by his presence. He doesn’t do anything to antagonise you, he stays out of your way more than anything. You don’t do anything to purposely make him uncomfortable: you do try to be agreeable and make small talk. But it’s hard not to look at him without thinking how, if everything was how it should be, Spencer would be stood in his place.

***

3 months, 26 days, 3 hours.

There is no ‘new normal.’ You’ve heard the term tossed around a few times in relation to grief, but if there is a new normal you’re still struggling to find it. When you’re not on cases, there’s no ‘normal’. You still don't sleep in your own bed. Sometimes you stay on Rossi’s, or Morgan’s, or Garcia’s couch. Sometimes, read: maybe once, it’s in the spare room at the place you and Spencer used to share. Sometimes, when you get worried about being a burden, it’s a hotel. It’s easier to feel as if you’re choosing to stay away from home, rather than acknowledging that home, as you understand it, no longer exists.

You still wake up and instinctually search for Spencer most mornings. Sure, work is keeping you occupied and you smile a little more these days. You even allowed yourself to be dragged out for drinks last weekend. But nothing feels like it should. You don’t know if that’s normal for grief or if you just aren’t moving forward at all, doomed to tread yourself deeper into the melancholic quicksand that’s got a hold on you.

You talk at length about it with Garcia over wine one night.

“Nothing feels right,” you admit, “Everything just feels...”

Garcia waits, just tipping her chin slightly to encourage you to continue. She’s got the counsellor act down and you’d have the decency to feel embarassed if you weren’t just so damn exhausted all the time.

“I feel trapped, I guess. Like I’m frozen. I keep thinking maybe it’ll get better once the trials over. Once the whole legal aspect of it is over and put to bed, then maybe I’ll have some closure on the whole situation,” you mumble, “I just don’t know how to move forward. I don’t feel like I’ve moved forward. And I know it’s only been three months but I’ve only stayed at our apartment twice and I can’t bring myself to move any of his things and...”

She just waits. In that moment, you’re so grateful for her.

“I’m stuck here. I can’t change anything. I can’t bring myself to move any of his things. I’m paying rent on a place I don’t live in but I can’t move because how can I live somewhere he’s never been? I feel like I’m stuck. I can’t move out of the world he lived in but the world is moving on even without him. And I’m just...I’m just here, Garcia.”

She nods sympathetically, placing her hand on your arm, “Maybe it’ll help when the case is wrapped up. When you have that closure.”

“Yeah,” you agree, “Yeah. I hope so.”

“There’s something you’re not saying,” she says, gently, “And you don’t have to say it. But if you’re holding back because you feel guilty then you don’t have to feel guilty about anything you say to me, my darling.”

You start to well up then. The pressure in your chest is heavy, something akin to guilt. It slices into your chest, cut glass sitting between your ribs and slicing you open every time you breathe in. You’ve been thinking it a lot lately. Too much. It’s making you feel awful and you can’t decide if putting it out into the world verbally is going to be a release or make it feel too real.

Garcia waits patiently.

You decide to believe it’ll be the former, then whisper, “I wish I loved him less. I wish I’d loved him less so this wouldn’t hurt as much.”

And then the sobs come. The sobs that wrack your chest and sting your eyes and leave you looking like you’ve been on the receiving end of an upper cut. Because how could you? How could you possibly want to take back any of the love you had so willingly, freely, given to the person you loved most? What kind of person did it make you to want to take back the good memories: to wish that instead of having waffles on the couch that last Sunday, you’d had a fight about the library fine he’d gotten because of you? How could you want to switch the puzzle pieces to create a less idyllic picture of your life together, just so you wouldn’t feel so much loss when you looked at it?

She just rubs your back through it, knowing that no words can help but still saying the thing she thinks you need to hear most, “That doesn’t make you a bad person, sugar plum. That makes you human.”

***

4 months, 6 days, 14 hours.

Hotch calls you all into the briefing room.

“A few months ago a decision had to be made. Somebody had the potential to make an incredible breakthrough on a case that had been airtight for years. But it wasn’t possible for that individual to complete that work without cover. They needed to be officially gone,” Hotch’s voice booms but you swear you can hear a hesitation, “It wasn’t necessary at the time for you to have that information. Providing you with it would have compromised the safety of one of our agents, and the integrity of their investigation.”

You glance around the room, confused, noticing everyone is sharing the same bewildered look. Except Emily.

“I apologise completely for having to keep this from you, it was a decision that was not taken lately, and I did not have the final say. That being said, any discontent about this decision should be directed towards me,” he glances towards Emily, and she’s looking nervous now.

Hotch lets out a huff, somehow more tense than usual, “SSA Reid was not killed after the attack in Seattle. That was his cover, but he was investigating a case.”

He’s still talking but you can’t hear anything. SSA Reid was not killed. SSA Reid was not killed. You flip the sentence over a hundred times. And for the millionth time since SSA Reid was killed, you have no idea what you feel.

There’s uproar from everybody. Shouting. And then Hotch says something and everybody is looking at you, scanning you for a reaction and you have nothing. Nothing at all.

“Hi,” a voice from the doorway, nervous and shy, a voice you’ve only heard in dreams and voicemails and recordings from nights out that you must have watched hundreds of times by now, if they were tapes you would have worn them out long ago.

And you know you can’t face him. You can’t face any of them.

You look around the room, first at Hotch whose eyes flicker with what looks like remorse. Then, at Emily who just looks guilty as all hell. You don’t look at him. You can’t look at him.

The tension in the room is palpable but in your peripheral you see Garcia and J.J flock to the doorway, embracing him.

Rossi, is the one who comes to you, “____?”

You stare at him, completely blankly, “Yeah?”

“You need to speak to him. Need to hear him out.”

“Yeah,” you murmur, allowing him to help you to your feet. His reassuring hands on your shoulders turn you around and you meet his face. The face of the boyfriend you spent the last four months mourning while everybody watched you fall apart. And half of them knew.

So that’s what you feel. Anger.

“Glad you’re back,” you snipe, pushing past him, “Glad you’re alive.”

Everybody watches you go. A tense silence fills the room. Spencer clears his throat, after what feels like an eternity, muttering, “I-I’ll go after ... I’ll go and see if I can...”

It wasn’t the reaction he was hoping for, if he’s honest. Although he wasn’t sure what exactly he’d been expecting.

“____ please, just let me talk to you, I’m sorry, please just let me have a chance to explain,” He manages to catch you at the elevator just in time, slipping through the gap with his lithe body, “Please. I need to explain. I need to apologise.”

“You can apologise as much as you want. You don’t deserve my forgiveness. You’ll never deserve my forgiveness.”

The venom in your tone leaves him floundering.

“___ please,” he’s begging, and you won’t look at him because you can hear the tears in his voice and he’s begging again, “Please, please look at me, please listen to me. You have to understand, you have to give me a chance to explain, please.”

You’ve never been this angry at him before. But you are now. It consumes you, you’ve never understood a crime of passion before and you’re not going to put your hands on him, of course, but fuck do you understand it now. How a person could just snap. The rage swells in you, screaming. Every muscle in your body is tense. It takes all you have to ball your hands into fists, digging your nails into your palm so hard you’re sure they break the skin. You’re furious. Furious at every single one of them.

“You lied to me,” you spit, “You lied to me and let me think you were dead. You and Hotch and Emily. I didn’t sleep in our bed for four months, Spencer. I’ve spent the past four months frozen, like, I couldn’t move forward without you. I didn’t start to move on. I've spent the last four months falling apart and trying to find a way to put myself back together without you, and then what, you just come back? You think we can just go back to normal? Spencer, I didn’t feel alive this past few months. I’ve been floating through, barely keeping it together. And for what? A case? That was important enough for you to do this to me?"

It’s true, you’ve spent the last four months feeling like you were the one who died. That you were united in being ghosts, except you were haunting all the places you used to go together, and he was just haunting your dreams. And he’d been alive. This. Whole. Time.

You storm out of the lift, lifting your head to look at him for only the second time in four months, “Please. Just leave me alone. You’ve done enough.”

He knows you aren’t wrong. Knows he doesn’t know if he could forgive you if the roles were reversed. Knows, more than anything, that he’s really fucked things up. You’ll never forgive him. That’s what you said, and right now, seeing anger like never before in your eyes, he has no reason whatsoever to doubt that isn’t completely true.

You don’t even make it to the parking lot before you feel your resolve melt into absolutely nothing. Anger descending into relief, hot tears cascading down your cheeks as the mantra starts again on a new loop in your head: SSA Reid was not killed.

#spencer reid fanfic #imagine spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #reid x reader #spencer reid angst #spencer reid #imagine criminal minds #criminal minds x you #bau!reader

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blxetsi · 3 years

Note

I was curious if you’d be up for headcanon of adopting Gabi Braun, or what it’s like being her older sibling?

If not maybe just Pieck relationship headcanons

Please and thank you

im so sorry im getting to this so late 😭🤚 ty for requesting ‼️

‼️CONTENT WARNING: SPOILERS FOR SEASON 4 AND CHAPTER 139‼️

adopting gabi braun headcanons (canonverse)

characters: gf!sasha braus x gn!reader, platonic!gabi braun x gn!reader, fatherly!levi ackerman x gn!reader, platonic!falco grice x gn!reader

warnings: death, angst, hatred for kids (fuck them kids‼️), peepaw levi 😁👍

- uhhhhhh,, your relationship w gabi had a very rocky start. Lol !

- it all started when your friend eren jaeger decided to run away to infiltrate marley causing the survey corps to go get him just as a war was declared between your countries, and then two kids snuck onto the airship you were using to escape and shot your girlfriend. and she died. Lol !

- you had a lot of hatred for gabi in the beginning, and it was understandable

- you blamed her for shooting sasha, but you also blamed yourself for not being able to save her.

- you were a trained medic, you were supposed to save people, and yet you couldnt even save the woman you loved. it was like a slap in the face, like god was playing some cruel joke on you

- you remember sitting against the wall with sasha's blood staining your hands. you could barely process what happened at the time, and then levi came

- he sat next to you, taking a handkerchief out of nowhere seemingly, and just wordlessly wiped your hands down.

- your relationship with the older man was never defined, even today, but you both cared for each other

- the next time you saw gabi, was in that restaurant, niccolo had attacked gabi and falco, injuring them both, and said she killed sasha

- your blood went cold, you felt so many things, the grief you had pushed down in favour of your job, anger, fear, among other things

- niccolo had said there needed to be justice, he said that gabi should die for what she did, he tried to get sasha's father to kill her, and all you did was stand there.

- your body went on autopilot, barely listening to mr. braus' speech, you watched as kaya pointed a knife at gabi, and you listened to her wails of agony as you blindly led mikasa, armin, and gabi to a different room

- you were scared of yourself, for what you were thinking. did you really want a kid to die ? she did kill your girlfriend, the woman you wanted to spend the rest of your life with, the woman that shared her food with you, the woman that held you when you got scared at night, the woman that promised you that after the war you two would live on a farm together, and have a family of your own.

- but she was still a child. she didnt know any better. you were conflicted in your feelings, especially after hearing what niccolo had said, but it all just emphasized what was already known to you. she was a child

- your blood was pounding in your ears, and you could faintly hear gabi asking your comrades if they wanted to kill her. when armin reassured her they didnt, she looked to you and asked "what about them ?"

- you didnt answer her, and continued to lead them down where eren would be meeting you all. you were supposed to drop them off, but eren made you stay, and then a fight broke out

- you dont remember when you did it, but you held gabi in your arms, shielding her from the fight. you think you needed to be held more than she did

- things got more complicated after that, and slowly the hatred you had for sasha's killer went away, until all you had left was a hole in your chest from guilt and sadness.

- at fort salta, you thought you were going to die there, next to your friends. you thought you'd become a mindless titan, like connie's family

- but you didnt, well you did, but only for a short time, and when you turned back, you reunited with your friends

- looking around for gabi, you saw her tackle falco into a hug, which made you smile

- "y/n !" jean called, you remember looking behind you in confusion, he sounded distressed, but you understood why when you saw sasha saluting the three of you

- you felt your legs move on your own, and you ran closer to her, before stopping about a meter away. she was dead, you knew she was dead, but she was there, wearing that goofy smile on her face and looking at you as if you'd hung the stars in the sky

- she looked at you. "you did good." hearing her voice felt like a dream. your mouth felt dry, and your jaw opened and closed like a fish before you felt tears sting your eyes. "i love you."

- she nodded, before looking at the sky. "i know." she replied. sasha looked back at you before giving you a soft smile. "you know what to do now." before she disappeared in the debris

- you knew what to do, so you did it

- you found levi sitting against a rock, and when you leaned down next to him he muttered something. "i saw erwin again. and hange. all of them." you nodded. "i saw sasha." he looked at you, and gave you the closest thing to a smile. "i guess we're both at peace now."

*****

- three years later, you've become a school teacher in paradis, teaching young children how to read, to write, and basic math. you teach them about art and music, and nature. its nice being surrounded by children all day, kids are lovely.

- you live with gabi, falco and levi, in a small house inside wall sina. levi's legs have gotten weaker with time, causing him to use a wheelchair and crutches. he's given up on his dream of a tea shop, but is content with the life he has now.

- gabi and falco have gotten more rowdy with age, but they've both matured quite a bit. they make you proud

- you send letters to sasha's family. kaya is growing up, and has taken over archery just like her sister. niccolo is living with them now.

- you'll never be able to let go of sasha, or what happened to her, but the pain in your chest has dulled immensely. you think about her sometimes, when youre in bed alone, wanting to feel the warmth of her body in your arms, you know you should move on, you get teased about not having a new girlfriend, even levi has made comments about there being "plenty of fish in the sea"

it was a late night, on a friday. you were grading spelling tests at the dining room table, one lone candle being your source of light. your pen moves swiftly across the different pieces of paper, adding check marks or x marks when needed, adding a note at the bottom of each test, before adding a smiley face on all of your students' hard work. it was tedious, but it needed to be done, and you had to remember to bring them in on monday, you couldn't forget like last time.

you heard footsteps coming down the stairs. they were soft, and slow, and at first you thought it was levi but realized it couldn't be since you couldn't hear the soft tapping of his crutches on the stairs. they came down to the bottom and stood there, it was gabi, dressed in a light pink nightgown that came down to her knees, and her disheveled hair in the braid you did for her before bed.

you pushed your reading glasses to the top of your head. "what are you doing up ? it's late."

she shrugged, and walked over to sit across from you at the table. gabi grabbed the stack of papers that you already graded and shuffled through them, giggling when she found a misspelling.

you rolled her eyes. "don't laugh, they're six."

she shook her head. "i was spelling ten times better than this when i was their age."

"uh huh."

"are you calling my bluff ?"

you chuckled. "maybe. you should be in bed though."

"why ? it's not like we have school tomorrow."

you shrugged. "i was thinking we could go on a picnic outside the walls. it gets stuffy in here."

she nodded. "that would be fun."

the silence came back for a while, until you finished grading and set your papers aside.

"you know, i hear you sometimes." she whispered.

you looked at the brunette in confusion. "how do you mean ?"

"when your in bed, sometimes you cry."

you scoffed, and leaned back in your chair. "yeah well, i try to muffle it."

"i don't think ive ever apologized to you," she started. her eyes welled up with tears and her hands shook on the table. her cheeks and nose became pink as she held herself back from crying. "i know i feel bad, and i regret killing her but, i've never actually apologized to you for-"

"don't." you said. you kept your eyes on your lap, you felt your throat growing tight. "please gabi, don't say anything."

"i need to apologize-"

"you don't. you killed her. she's dead, the war is over. it's done. just let it go." you said, your voice wavering.

"have you let it go ?"

your head shot up to her. "i lost the woman i was going to spend the rest of my life with. she promised me a safe home, a farm, and a family. and she promised we'd grow old together. and that didn't happen. i grew up with her, i've known her since i was twelve, we started dating when i was sixteen. of course i haven't let it go, gabi."

gabi looked shocked by your outburst, but nodded. she understood how you felt, and she felt so guilty. "you don't forgive me do you ? i get it, i really do. i'm sorry."

you shook your head. "gabi no, i do. i do forgive you. i just, i can't forget it." you whimpered, tears started streaming down your face and you choked back a sob. "i loved her with all of my heart, i still do, but i don't hate you-"

gabi rolled her eyes, tears coming out uncontrollably now. "you should. i killed her, i ruined your chance of a happy life ! she was your family and i-"

"gabi no !" you exclaimed, cutting her off. at this point you both looked like a mess, and you were worried you woke up the boys. you grabbed her shaking hands in your own and held them to you. "you are my family. you are. so is falco, and so is levi. i forgive you, and i love you with all of my heart." you said, a sad smile on your face. her eyes widened at your words, before she started sobbing.

you got up from the table to come to her side, and held her in your arms as she cried. her arms wrapped around your shoulders while she dug her head into your neck, tickling you with her hair.

you rubbed her back and cradled her head while shushing her. she sobbed out a muffled "i love you so much y/n." that you chuckled at.

"i love you too so much." you whispered back.

it took a long time for gabi to calm down, but when she did you still held her, rocking her and yourself back and forth slightly. you two moved from the chairs down to the floor, funny enough.

you kissed the top of her head before talking, the only noise in the room being your whispers, her sniffles and the living room clock. "you know reiner's coming home soon. are you excited ?" she nodded against your skin and sniffled again, clearing her throat too.

"i hope he brings me a gift or something." she whispered back, her voice hoarse. it made you laugh, and you had to cover your mouth to keep quiet.

"they're going to shiganshina district for a couple of days, to visit mikasa and eren, and then mikasa will come with them to the capital."

"do you miss her ?" she asked.

"so much. i miss all of them, but mikasa is a close friend of mine, she holds a special place in my heart."

"do you think you and levi will go to the meetings between the marley ambassadors and the jaegerists ?" she asked.

"maybe, if they feel as though they really need us."

you sighed through your nose, which was a bit stuffy from crying. "after we turned back into humans, i saw sasha again."

gabi lifted her head up from where it was resting on your shoulder. "what ?"

"yeah, i saw her ghost i think." you looked down on her with a smile on your face. "she told me i knew what i needed to do, and then i went and got levi and you and falco." you paused for a moment, thinking about how you would word what you were thinking. "i did what i needed to do, i got my family together." gabi's eyes widened. "sasha promised me a family, and although this wasn't the family i had envisioned, it's still a family nonetheless. i believe her last gift to me was you, falco, and levi. and i am so grateful to have you all in my life."

gabi smiled before hugging you. she opened her mouth to say something-

"oi !" a deep voice came from the top of the stairs. "you two woke me up with all of your crying. go to bed." before your heard the creaking of the floorboards and the closing of a door.

you chuckled before standing up, pulling gabi with you. you walked her to her room, and even tucked her in, you both exchanged 'i love yous' and 'goodnights' before you retreated from her bedroom, closing the door behind you.

across the hall, levi stood leaned on his doorway with his arms crossed together. "that family speech, that was cute." he commented. you rolled your eyes at the older man. "were you listening in on a private conversation ?" you teased.

the ex-captain scoffed and looked away. "go to bed y/n. we have a picnic to go on tomorrow." before closing his door.

you chuckled to yourself, remembering how you brought up the idea to him that morning, and he only replied with a curt "we'll see" before sipping on his morning tea.

you went back to your own room, and got into your bed. you turned on your side, and looked at the space you always left open for sasha, and brushed your hand against the pillow.

"goodnight love."

uhhhhh doesnt feel like my best work but whatevs 😁👍 enjoy my comeback to tumblr 🤩🙏

requests open mfs ‼️

#attack on titan #attack on titan fanfiction #attack on titan x reader #erwin smith #hange zoe #levi ackerman #levi ackerman x reader #levi x gn!reader #sasha braus #sasha blouse #sasha braus x reader #sasha blouse x reader #niccolo aot #falco grice #gabi braun #gabi x falco #chapter 139

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