#being suicidal for several days a month every month was NOT it

[wizardnuke]

sorry boss I can't come in for a few hours today because I've been inflicted w my monthly case of bitch disease and might start to cry if the store music is too loud or something

[mainfaggot]

tw eating disorder talk in the tags btw. just me being open for the first time in a long time but no numbers or specifics that could be triggering do nawt worry

[dhampir-dyke]

.

[strawberryvanillafrosting]

success life story ♡

heyy i'm here to share about my success story, the beginning is only before i started manifesting and about when i just started, all my success are on the very end of the blog, so feel free to skip directly at it if you're not interest by all the rambling !

have a good read ☆

michiko is so pretty, i've literally been told so many times i looked liker <3

the old story that i don’t live in anymore

okay so before i didn’t hate my life, at all, but i just found very dull and so poor of entertaining like it was just too fucking regular and repetitive.also a bit depressing. i thought of myself of such an unlucky girl before and i was like affirming all the fucking time that i was unlucky and guess what? everything really used to go the way i didn’t want it to go every single damn time and i’d be like i knew it im so unlucky boo-hoo.

same for the money i would just go every single fucking day rambling to my friends how poor i was and how i wanted money so bad and the same story every single fucking for days, weeks, months.

i really wanted a new appartement and my own room cause i used to share same room as my sister and it really was getting on my nerves, i had no privacy and place for myself. the apartment was small, my mum always kept complaining about it and then she would argue about my dad about it but the reason why we couldn’t move out despite trying for several months was cause my dad had whole lotta debts and my mom had a really low paying and hard job she was exhausted and, it was quiet hard to see them being this unhappy and they still tried their hardest to make us happy so i really wanted to get back at them.

about social life i had very few friends and barely went out, i'd say probably one time a month. and i really wanted to get that life of the party, and those big ass friends group and also i was crazy desperate about having black friends cause i am black and literally the only black out here without none of black friends and i felt pretty left out like wtf am i the only black girl with no black friends cause all of them (that's so dumb tho.. ) were friends and gets invited to the most fun hangouts and i was embarrassingly jealous of that and also complained a lot about it…and kept asking tf was wrong with me.

STRONGLY on this one : i wanted a relationship so bad and i kept hating and being sad to those couple on tiktok’s. one time i actually cried cuz i wanted a boys’s love so bad like i was craving it so bad. i was in such despair state before..cringy ahh ☠️

i used to be rlly insecure about my looks too even tho at some moments i felt more confident, i kept comparing myself and waisting dozens of minutes enumerating my "flaws ". i knew about manifestation but not really about law of assumption , for me manifesting was really all about listening to subliminals, method and scripting. we all once knew that phase yeah? i used to manifest from time to time but then would just give up again,since i was not seeing results and so on. so useful wow.and then there’s the others things like mediocre grades, poor family health, just constant tiredness and fatigue feeling,

tw : mention of being depressed,sh,ed, : felt empty like life had absolutely no meaning, suicidal thoughts, tried to end by over-consumption of medication, self-harm and bulimia, constant complaining and NEGATIVE ONLY mindset.

but now, NOW i tell you ever single thing i’ve just listed changed completely like every single damn thing i’ve just listed is no more, it’s out of the date, dead, buried and no longer existing !

it clicked

then at some point at my life i was just like. yk what? fuck i just wanna change it all. then i really like really  got into it all over again and for good. no more 1 week i try then giving up cause i ain’t seeing no « results ».

i watched hours and hours of ppl talking about loa (i’m not saying you should do this at all it’s just that i was very under-informed and wanted to know everything about loa)on youtube, shoutout to rita kaminski and hyler who really put me into it and informed me. then i started reading neville’s pdf books, and tumblr blogs, kinda overconsuming but i liked getting myself informed.

and then that’s where everything started and that i got aware of all the power i actually hold. all the things i actually can do just cause of my mind. i wrote down all my wishes in present tense ,like every single aspect i wanted to change/have in my life. and i started fully living in the end like really got myself into and at first of course, wavering from time to time in the beginning. it was pretty easy for me since i was used to manifestation.but what i didn’t do before is persist no matter what and that’s what was really tricky for me in the beginning to persist no matter what and not just give up to bullshit 3D. but when i kept moving forward no matter the 3D and made it facts the only my 4D matters and everything has already happened, ALL and every single wish down to the last one flowed into my life. ONE by ONE every single hour of the day i would get my manifestations down to the last letter i wrote in my notes.every single thing

success storyy

in a matter of few weeks like really 3 week-ish like- 1 month max.

starting off LUCK i’m extremely lucky now every single time i play gambling activities i win. i’ve won insane amounts at scratch cards i think i’ve won in total more than 5’000$. JUST FROM SCRATCH CARDS.and before i started i NEVER EVER WON. now whenever i play there’s not one time that i’ll win absolutely nothing even just a small prize

won huge lottery prize (from 200 to 12k the biggest i’ve won yet)

winning a gambling games, either online or dice rolling luck,bets, bingos etc.. its literally insane every one keep telling that i literally has got god’s blessing (i’m the god guys🥰)

financially freedom, my parents upgraded jobs and i’ve got lots of incomes + the money my parents give me 

all the debts my dad had, he got rid of ALL of them and when i tell you mf had a lot of em☠️

move out in a new huge ass condo which is a duplex (like really like i wrote it it’s actually scary how powerful we are..) I’VE FINALLY GOT MY OWN ROOM and we’re getting my desired furnitures and decorating the house i’m so grateful

friends and popularity i think biggest shock for me is really this. like my social life has gone from very paisible to completely fully booked and passioning life. like seriously i’ve been to more parties, concerts, birthdays, and hangouts during the last 2 weeks holidays than in my entire life

got lot of new friends, healthy relationships and quality time passed on lots of fun activities and sm memories

black groups friend. WITH AN S.so thankful to myself to be this good a manifestation i litteraly got into a black friend group of girls and i’ve never felt more at my place and understood this much. and these girls know the black group boys (when i tell you that 2y ago they were the person that i wanted to be close with so bad..also they’re really hot and funny lol)so we hung out with them and i was literally so highlighted and became pretty much friends with all of them !! 

my man. HELLO I LITERALLY MANIFESTED MY DREAM RELATIONSHIP? when i met him i didn’t actually realize right on the spot that he was exactly how i wanted him to be and reading back to when i scripted out all the things i wanted at the beginning, everything matched. he’s literally physically and mentally the man of my dream LIKE REALLY. we’re no bf and gf YET cause it’s just a little soon but we see each others super often and we have the best relationship ever i swear it’s giving wattpad. the flirting is crazyyy.

dream bod.from head to toe my desired body. heavy on the lower body all for that azz and wide hips.ive got smooth and clear skin and smell good all the time!! litteraly flawless face + got my braces which suits so much and dimples

plenty of vacations (went to ibiza, usa and dubai )

lenient parents they use to be so strict before i swear its crazy they let me go so easily now, i can hangout without asking 3 days ,like they accept even if i've gotta go in the next hour or if wanna go on trip that's in another country. i can come back home so much later too

attractive & magnetic aura + being really charismatic (everyone i met keep telling me i’ve got this thing that really makes them want me, get closer to me)

good grades without doing much

perfect self-concept - as i kept living 24/7 in the state of wish fulfilled, my self concept only got better making me really know what i’m worth and never wavering/ going back to the old story

whole ass pc set up

all of my desired skincare/makeups/shoes/clothes

and so much more...

outro

i hope y'all liked my blog and that it motivated some of you to NEVER GIVE UP cause y'all are reallyy some powerful mfs and y'all already got all of yours desires !!

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ honey kisses, shayama

[bensolosbluesaber]

Nowhere to Run: Part 1 (Miguel O’Hara (Spider-Man 2099) x Spider-Woman!f!reader)

Pairings: Miguel O’Hara (Spider-Man 2099) x Spider-Woman!f!reader

Warnings: Hints of suicidal ideation on reader’s part, Fang stuff (Miguel uses fangs on reader), Chasing, Miguel is maybe ooc (I only saw the movie once and was mostly trying to keep from audibly moaning every time he was on-screen), Miguel and reader fight - he does some damage, Poison, Wounds, Not edited (but I will come back for some minor edits later on), Let me know if I missed anything

Summary: After the collapse of your universe, you resort to jumping around the multiverse to survive. Evolution gave you the powers needed to escape your universe. Technology of your own design stopped the glitches. But you haven’t found a way to escape the man relentlessly hunting you across every universe - Spider-Man 2099. ~2,500 words

Angst, hurt/comfort, eventual happy ending

A/N: This is for all of us who watched the Nueva York chase scene/train sequence and thought ‘when do I get to be Miles?’ This is dedicated to the Miguel O’Hara editors on TikTok - you guys are doing god’s work over there (especially with the captions). There shouldn’t be any spoilers in here beyond what was shown in trailers, but tread as carefully as you feel you need.

EDIT: Part 2

--

A persistent tingle deep in your mind vibrated madly the closer Spider-Man 2099 was to you. It was your Spidey-sense warning you of danger.  For the first few months, you managed to stay several universe’s ahead of the terrifying Spider-Man variant, but after running for months with no one to help you, dodging the Spider-Person in each universe, and growing more exhausted with each portal you opened, 2099 was catching up.

He was catching up quite literally. The man was a few blocks behind you, pursuing you through the streets of a Queens in a universe you had never seen before. Buildings were built into trees. The entire city was a perfect symbiosis between nature and technology. It was beautiful, but there was no time to appreciate it. The time on your wrist ticked down. Seventy-six seconds. Seventy-five.

You shot out another web. It caught a window, and you took a sharp corner then another trying to lose the hunter.

Seventy seconds until you could safely open another portal. Well safe was a relative measure. Ideally you would allow a full day between jumps, but if you only had twelve hours, well then odds of survival rose to about fifty-fifty. Anything less than twelve hours and implosion was basically guaranteed.

Sixty-eight. You extended your legs for more momentum, rolled in the air, shot out two webs and used them to zip forward. Sixty-two. 2099 was fast, faster than you. You didn’t dare to look back to see if he was still in pursuit.

He protected the multiverse, kept it from collapsing in on itself, and you put the entire web of connection at risk just by being alive outside of your universe. You didn’t begrudge 2099 for what he thought he had to do. Maybe it was true that your presence could cause a universe to collapse, but you were careful not to stay for too long, not to interact with the Spider of that universe, not to fight any super-villains. If he could just understand that you were careful, that you didn’t want a multiversal collapse anymore than he did, maybe he would be reasonable.

Then again, maybe not. He was relentless, and from what little you had heard of Spider-Man 2099, he wasn’t one for talk and negotiation.

Fifty-five. You dived down, shot another web, swung again. You could never go back to your world’s boundless emptiness and not another living soul. That thought kept your exhausted muscles working. Fifty. The void was all that remained of your collapsed universe, a void in which you could not die but where no one else could live.

Forty-eight. Forty seven. This block was all future, half-built apartment buildings.

Thirty. You’d long ago lost your suit. All that remained was the mask that obscured your face. You must look ridiculous swinging around in stolen street-clothes: a baggy sweatshirt, leggings, dirty sneakers.

Twenty-one. Nearly there. Just a few-

A solid mass of muscle stole the breath from your lungs and flattened you into a cement wall. Claws shattered the cement beside your head into a fine gray powder. A hand closed around your throat, and you were crushed between the blue and red clad Spider-Man and the wall.

He was pure muscle. This was the closest you’d ever been to 2099, and his sheer size was terrifying. The red lines on his mask narrowed with his eyes as he studied you.

Eighteen. You pushed at his broad chest, struggling desperately to fight him off, but he was enhanced too and probably well-fed and rested - two things you were not.

“Stop fighting me,” 2099 growled into your ear, his voice a deep rumble that you felt in his chest.

“I won’t go back.” You choked out the words while you planted a knee against him and tried to kick him away. Your efforts were utterly useless. Quite literally, you could feel muscles rippling across his chest and arms as he held you against the wall while you trid to wriggle free.

In the corner of your eye, you watched the red numbers tick down. Six. Five. Was it even possible? It had to be.

2099 brought you forward then slammed you into the wall again. The impact made your head spin. The red lines of his mask doubled and tripled. He was trying to get something around your wrist.

“Hold still!”

Two.

With the last vestige of strength left in your body, you brought a hand to his face and shot a wad of webbing at his eyes. He growled and stopped his attempt to hand-cuff you - or whatever he was doing - to wipe the webbing away. For a second he was distracted. You imagined the glowing golden portal. Closed your eyes. Energy sparked in your body, coursed through your veins and arm. You shot a web at the wall behind you. It shimmered gold, dim gold, but still gold.

There was a moment where you thought it hadn't worked. Then the wall crumbled away and you felt wind whip you backward as a bright gold light filled the space. 2099 reached for you, claws extended. Four knife-like talons dug into your shoulder, ripping through the ratty sweater, digging into your skin, and tearing four long bloody stripes into your flesh as the portal drug you away..

You planted both feet on his stomach and kicked him off. A bright red web shot out from 2099’s hand to tangle in a tree. The last thing you saw was 2099 falling then catching himself before you tumbled away from him and toward a new universe.

--

It was raining on this new Earth. Actually, ‘raining’ was a bit of an understatement. It was absolutely pouring, and you were soaked before you hit the ground. Hard.

You hadn't been as focused as you needed to be, and the portal had opened in the sky and dropped you ten feet to the roof of a towering building in some universe’s version of New York. You couldn’t tear the mask from your face quick enough as you gasped desperately for air. 2099 was strong, and he’d smashed you half a foot into solid cement.

Your ribs ached. So did your head for that matter. But it was the dull ache spreading across your shoulder, down your arm, and seeping through your muscles like liquid fire that really made you afraid.

The gray of your stolen sweater was soaked in crimson blood. Carefully, you pushed the stained fabric over your shoulder.

Shit. Shit!

Beneath the torn fabric, your skin glowed a sickly, dare you say radioactive red - the same red as 2099’s suit. His talons must have been poisoned, and now that poison was making it’s way through your body, causing unknown damage and immense pain. There had to be a lab on this Earth. Right? If you could only get there, you were smart enough to whip up an antidote.

But as you stood, it was obvious that you wouldn’t be going anywhere. The poison was potent and fast-acting. Insanely, you wondered if it was really poison or if you should be calling it venom. It didn’t matter, because a moment after gaining your feet, your legs failed. You careened forward and nearly smashed your head again, only just catching yourself before slowly laying down in the rainwater.

City lights sparkled in the distance and reflected in the puddle forming around your head. Purple and blues and few bright yellows. Not a bad view if this was how you died. If only the poison weren’t so painful. You wanted to scream, but you lacked the strength.

A familiar tingle shot across your spine a second before the bright gold light of a portal obscured the reflection of the city lights. No! He was so close when you jumped universe’s. He must have tracked you; no wonder he hadn't bothered to chase you through the portal.

You scrambled backwards weakly, your feet struggling for purchase on the slick roof as the broad shouldered man appeared. He was wreathed in gold light. You couldn’t jump again, couldn’t even stand, could barely drag your body through the rain as Spider-Man 2099 strode closer.

“Nowhere to run,” he said. His voice was flat, like he took no pleasure in finally having you trapped.

“I won’t go back!” You tried to sound tough, strong, but your voice cracked over the words. “There’s nothing there. I can’t. I’d rather die than- than go back to nothing. 2099, don’t send me back”

Your fingers felt the ledge of the building and empty air beyond it. Poison. Fall. The clawed Spider-Man. A slow descent into madness trapped in the empty and endless remains of your home universe. A fall seemed fastest. But you didn’t want to. You were scared. You didn’t really want to die. Your shoulder throbbed and head filled with fog. The skin was glowing such a bright red you could see it in the corner of your eye.

In the brief moment you hesitated, he was on you. 2099’s red webs wrapped around your chest, and he yanked you forward and away from the ledge. You crumpled at his feet, and he just stared down at you through that mask. His blue and red mask swam in your vision as you stared up at him. Was it the rain that was so cold? Or was it the poison? No, venom. Poison? Venom?

2099’s face got bigger as he knelt beside you.

“What is this?” He pulled at the torn sweater, his gaze falling on the bright red mottling your skin.

Miguel O’Hara had never seen his claws damage anyone like this. There was no venom in them… unless in whatever universe you had come from something about them was venomous. It was possible. His fangs were venomous, that he did know.

Miguel pulled off his mask, the adrenaline of the chase fading while he watched you struggle for life. He’d meant to stop you, take you back to base, figure out where you’d come from… not kill you. He ran his tongue over one of the fangs protruding from his mouth.

The next thing you knew, 2099 was sitting next to you and pulling you onto his lap. It might have all been a dream, you couldn’t tell. The lights were so beautiful. Your head lolled to one side, your whole body limp as a ragdoll in his muscular arms. His face filled your vision and blocked out the pretty lights.

He had a strong jawline, dark curls, sharp cheekbones, a broad nose, and were those fangs? And were his eyes glowing red? Yes, two orbs as red as the suit and your poisoned skin shone down at you. He was pretty too. This had to be a dream. The monster chasing you couldn’t be so handsome. You blinked, eyes unfocused. Your Spidey-sense was going wild, but you couldn’t bring yourself to fight. 2099 was warm, and you could go to sleep right here.

He shifted your body again so your side was pressed against his chest. “2099,” you whispered weakly, pathetically.

“I’m sorry for this,” he whispered in that low growl. Now it was tinged with what almost sounded like real regret. “It’s the best I can think of.”

He guided your head to rest in the curve of his shoulder, face turned toward his neck. One hand brushed hair away from your neck, the other wrapped around your waist. His fingers were no longer clawed, and his movements were gentle as he held you close, muscles tensing underneath your body. The expression on his face was tender. It seemed impossible that this was the same man who had made you his prey for months.

“Don’t panic now,” he whispered as he lowered his lips to your neck. “Stay still.”

You were barely aware of what was happening. His lips were warm, then four sharp pricks stung the base of your neck just above your collarbone and the deep poisoned wounds. Panic tried to rise in your throat, but you weren’t conscious enough to really process that a man currently had his fangs sunk into your throat. He drew back and spit out bright red poison, then bit into you again. Then again. And again.

Miguel was exceptionally careful with you, holding you perfectly still and being sure to sink his fangs into the same spot each time so as not to mark your skin any more than necessary.

Slowly, the world began coming back into focus. You were exhausted, but the poison was being was successfully being leeched from your system by his fangs. Brown curls were the first thing you became aware of, then the almost unnatural warmth coming from the man beneath you, then the cold pricks on rain on your back, then... then that something was biting you. Before you could wrench your head back, a large hand cradled the back of your head. You desperately tried to struggle as you realized what this vampiric Spider-Man was doing to you. The muscles in his arm flexed as he held your head still.

2099 pulled his fangs from your neck, spit bright red then let go of your head. You sat up quickly. The movement made you dizzy.

“I know you’re scared.” Miguel could see the fear in your eyes. He nodded to your still glowing shoulder. It was dimmer now and hurt less, but it was still obvious poisoned. “But this is working. Let me help you.”

You were looking him right in the eyes, the glowing red eyes, and though you didn’t trust him, you knew instinctively he was right.

“Okay,” you breathed lowly.

You laid your head on his shoulder. Miguel could feel how your whole body trembled, but whether it was from fear or cold or something else entirely he couldn’t tell. When his lips touched your skin you whimpered. That was fear.

Miguel still had one arm around you, but he took your hand in his free one, interlaced your fingers, and squeezed once. Then he sunk his fangs into your neck. It stung a bit but didn’t really hurt. Now that your were conscious, you could feel the poison being drawn toward the spot where his mouth connected to your skin. That didn’t really hurt either. It was like stretching a sore muscle - a satisfying pain that ultimately brought relief.

2099 drew back to spit out his poison. When was the last time you’d touched someone like this? A touch that was more than an accidental brush in the street - or a purposeful one so you could steal someone’s wallet. 2099 was your enemy, your hunter. He was dangerous. But he was saving your life and holding you so tenderly it made your chest ache.

“Once more,” he promised.

His fangs brushed over your skin for the last time. You pulled your hand from his and splayed your fingers across his chest. 2099 brought his now free hand to your poisoned shoulder and pushed the ripped fabric apart.

Miguel watched the last of the poison be pulled from your veins as it filled his mouth. He spit it out then turned back to study how your body was pressed against him.

“Can you stand?” He asked.

“I don’t know,” you answered honestly. Then panic hit and you jerked back, still sitting on his lap but with your face now safely away from his fangs. “You- you’re going to send me back. 2099, please don’t.”

“Why do you keep calling me that? My name is Miguel.”

Miguel. 2099 had a name. Of course he did, but hearing it made him seem so human. And his face was handsome. That was no venom or poison induced hallucination. The man was beautiful.

“And no. Not yet.”

“My universe collapsed. There’s nothing for me to go back to.”

His red eyes softened as they met yours.

“We won’t send you back to an empty universe,” he paused, and one side of his lips twitched up. “You ran because you thought I’d send you back to a void? I see I have quite the reputation.”

Miguel lifted you to your feet easily. He set you on your feet and tapped the watch-like contraption on his wrist. You leaned against his muscled chest for stability. Even without his poison, you were still wounded and tired and malnourished. A portal spiraled out in front of you both.

“You promise not to send me back there?” You looked up at Miguel. He squinted at the portal’s bright light and tugged the mask back over his face.

“Promise.”

To be continued... 

Part 2

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A/N: Part 2 will be a little time jump, and we’ll actually see Miguel and reader get into a relationship!

My Masterlist

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Taglist (Want to be added? Click here.) - 

@copingchaos @n1ght5h4d3-24 @paintmekala @chaoticevilbakugo @janebby @chaoticevilbakugo @weirdo125 @roseqzpd @bitchyglitterfox @m0nster-fvcker @romanarose

Won’t Tag: @janebby @marvelescvpe

If you want taken off, just let me know! I took a guess on who might be interested.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for faking my death to get out of an abusive relationship?

Tw for verbal + mental/psychological abuse and suicide

I used to be in a discord server with some friends, there were about 40 people in it, only around 20 who were actually active. It was a while ago I can't remember. I was in that server for about 4 months.

From the start, people would occasionally get mad at me over something I didn't do. About every month or so someone would start a rumor about me and make the whole server gang up on me, I'd tell them it was false, but everyone would still avoid me for the next couple days.

I never did anything wrong, but I was always the center of the drama, and when I asked one person, R, why, he said he didn't know and that I didn't deserve so much hate.

About a week later R was talking in the vent channel about how I had manipulated him. I DMed him to ask why, and he told me it was because I asked him if he was my friend. I thought it was fucking stupid because it's not manipulative to be paranoid, but I pretended to be sorry because I didn't want him to be mad at me.

The server also had a bot where you could submit anonymous messages, and lots of people would use that feature to make up things about me to ruin my reputation.

After a while I left the server and only stayed in contact with a few people. However, every couple days another person would tell me I'm a monster and gaslight me into thinking I'm a terrible person, and every time I asked why they hated me they didn't give me an answer.

My only real friend, T, showed me some messages from the others after I left the server, and a bunch of people were making up stories about bad things I had done to them, and people who I had never even spoken to were saying that I had abused them and was dangerous.

Once someone told me thay they understood all the things R had said about me weren't true, but said it was still my fault anyway, and even told me that R had done nothing wrong (he lied about me in front of the entire server and is the reason I lost all my friends, and he yelled at me and called me evil because I was suicidal), and then they accused me of faking having amnesia because I had flashbacks.

Eventually, only four of my "friends" hadn't blocked me, and they almost never talked to me. Everyone kept calling me a terrible person because R spread lies about me and everyone else believed him instead of me.

It was to the point where I couldn't go one day without someone sending me death threats or trying to guilt trip me with false information, and I was getting very sever flashbacks of the stuff R had said to me, and I started failing classes because I couldn't focus on anything.

Eventually I had had enough, so I tagged them all in a tumblr post about how I was going to kill myself and then logged out of both that tumblr account and my old discord account forever.

(Also about a month after I had left, I got texts from irl friends, and it turns out someone on the server found the contact info of people I knew in real life just to ask if I was dead or not. And that scared the shit out of me.)

I've left out a lot of details of the abuse because of amnesia. I have a mental disorder which makes it hard to remember things, plus the brain often blocks out traumatic memories, so I'm sorry if some info feels missing.

The only reason I feel like I might be an asshole is because once I was gone, all of them switched targets and started to harass T. They said they hated him for being on my side, and sent him death threats on anon because he was mad at them for killing his friend. They started treating him the same way they treated me, and called him a horrible person but refused to give a reason as to why, and if I had stayed around they would've left him alone.

@should-be-dead (made a sideblog so I get notified when this is posted)

[quack-quack-snacks]

Drowning Without You By My Side

My Navigation and Masterlist

My Sweet Home Masterlist

My Cha Hyun-su Masterlist

Pairing(s): Cha Hyun-su x Fem!Reader Summary: Ever since losing everything, you felt like you were drowning. Trying to end it all wasn't successful when an unknown and unnatural force was hell-bent on stopping you, but when a near-death experience - unintended this time - causes you to tempt Death's grasp, you finally meet the force keeping you bound to the world. Warnings: Season 2 spoilers (slightly)! Slight panic attack, drowning, explicit detail of attempted suicide on the reader's part (The National Suicide and Crisis Hotline is 988. There are so many people who care about you and would love to help you. You are not alone), cutting and bleeding (during the roll calls), Ah-yi being too cute for her own good, and Hyun-su being a fond little cinnamon roll and a great big brother (even if it's only for a scene), no use of (y/n). Word Count: 6,163

Pt 2: Floating Above Those Dark Skies :)

Hyun-su!

You woke up with a start, sweat slickening your skin and causing the slightly ripped t-shirt to stick to your back. It was designed with a band of which you'd never heard the likes of before the apocalypse started. Your breathing was quickened intensely and you wiped your hands over your face, pushing your palms into your eye sockets as you fruitlessly tried to calm your heart rate. It took several minutes of doing every method you knew to stop a panic attack before you were finally able to take a deep breath without it stuttering in your lungs. You swung your legs over the edge of the hammock you had designated as your bed since you first arrived at the stadium all those months ago. To know that you hadn’t seen the boy you once called home in over half a year was a hard pill to swallow. You hated yourself for letting him go.

Hated that you didn’t try harder to follow after him.

Hated that you let the group force you onto the truck with them and head to the safety camp.

It was a never-ending cycle of self-loathing since you’d arrived at the stadium. When you’d found the secret exit leading out of the stuffy concrete walls you were trapped in, you found yourself leaving whenever possible. You couldn't handle the pitiful stares of your fellow Green Home survivors and the eyes of the citizens in the stadium who disliked the woman that protected the “murderer” of the chief’s husband. Although Eun-yoo and you did not really have any sort of relationship in terms of friendship, you had an unspoken agreement to protect and stand up for each other. If not each other, you had no one. The people you each had viewed as the closest to you of anyone had gone missing or even passed on to the next life. You both refused to admit that last thought out loud, though. 

Every morning, you would wake up and attend the morning roll call before getting dressed and leaving for the day until you returned just in time for the evening roll call.

Today would be no different.

You dropped your bare feet onto the frigid concrete floor and walked towards the bathroom, suppressing a shiver. The entrance to the bathroom had been taken off after an incident inside of the stadium. It involved none other than yourself and the elder brother of one of the boys who bullied Yeong-su when the two of you got into a fight. You can remember the exact words he had spoken to you after you talked to him about the boy’s behavior.

“The little shit deserves it. Being the little brother of a murderer and the devil’s advocate,” he’d said, referring to Eun-yu and yourself. “I hope he ends up becoming a monster. I even hope I’ll be the one to have the honor of killing him.”

You remember punching him square in the nose as soon as the words left his mouth. He’d flown backward and slammed into the bathroom door, successfully knocking it off the hinges and breaking the flimsy wood in half. You were positively seething at the absolute audacity the man had. Not being satisfied with how he’d fallen, you jumped on top of him and started pounding your fist into his face. You hit him over and over again, undeterred by the few hits he managed to get in, until you were pulled off of him. You started thrashing around violently when you felt hands wrapping around you to pull you off of him until you realized it was Park Chan-young, the young soldier who had been an alibi and friend to you and the rest of the Green Home survivors since you’d first gotten on that truck. A small crowd had gathered around after hearing the commotion and yells coming from the two of you before they all parted to allow Chief Ji in. When she saw you, her confused stare deepened to a glare but she ignored you in favor of transporting the brother you had just fought to the medical room. That was a hell of a day.

The inside of the bathroom was a regular locker room. Not surprising considering it was originally used for the players of the baseball team. The only difference was one of the walls was poorly rebuilt with rocks and bricks by Chief Ji and some of the stadium's residents after it was impacted by the missiles. 

Before you had started heading over to the bathroom, you had grabbed your small compact bag of hygiene supplies and brought it with you. Although toothpaste was hard to come by and you had to share the rations the soldiers found with your neighbors, you were able to find some on one of your days out. You brushed your teeth dry, not wanting to use any of the limited water on something like brushing your teeth. This had become something you were used to. 

Finally returning to your sleeping space, you didn’t bother changing out of the clothes you slept in and just decided to continue wearing them. The outfit was comfortable yet simple: a pair of oversized off-white sweatpants you had to manually make a drawstring for using a shoestring, and a short-sleeved dark blue shirt. Your shoes were the same ones you wore the first day this monsterization started. They were originally a pristine white you had tried your hardest not to taint, but now they were stained beyond repair from your adventures. You consider yourself lucky you had only bought them a week before the outbreak. They held up well throughout the year you’d spent with them as your sole pair of shoes. 

The morning announcement calling for roll call sounded through the silent air of the little enclosed unit you were lucky enough to be given.

Although luck may not have been the true cause. So many people were reluctant to be near you when they slept and complained enough times to the chief that she eventually just set you apart from the rest. Although it was lonely at times, you were thankful for the shred of privacy you had been granted. 

Once your shoes had been put on along with your sweater, you calmly walked down the hall toward the place where your assigned group met for roll calls. You arrived just in time to see Yeong-su slap away Jin-ok’s hand when she tried to pull him back from a soldier who was grinning meanly at him. You could see the built-up tears in the boy’s eyes that he desperately was trying to push away and rushed forward. Seeing the reasoning behind his tears, despite the consequences that you knew would ensue, you roughly pushed against the soldier’s back which sent him tumbling forward and his face met the ground floor with a sickening sound. You risked a glance to look back at Yeong-su and Jin-ok. Yeong-su’s arm was bleeding rapidly, seeming obvious that the soldier who cut him too deeply hit an artery. Hopefully, it wasn't a major one. The boy’s lip was quivering as he held back his tears. You could see all the emotions in his eyes: anger, frustration, helplessness, but mainly relief. Relief from you coming in to defend him. You quickly sent a look to Jin-ok and she immediately knew what you meant. She gently took Yeong-su’s hand and this time he didn’t resist as she led them both away from the scene and to their living quarters. 

You barely had time to let out a relieved smile before a fist was sent flying into your left cheek, sending your head snapping to the right and you falling back, only barely and painfully catching yourself with your elbows. You looked up at your assailant to see the officer who was tormenting Yeong-su standing above you. His nose was bleeding heavily and if you didn’t know any better, you would’ve thought he was beginning the transition period to a monster. He wiped at his nose to no avail and sent you a heavy glare. He leaned down and roughly grabbed your arm, hauling you to your feet and pulling out his knife. You held eye contact even when the blade roughly slashed across your forearm, right over an already existing cut. You praised yourself internally on how you kept your face entirely neutral and how the soldier looked angry and disappointed at your lack of reaction.

You gave him a slight smirk as you held up your bleeding arm for his view, the blood gushing down and covering your bruised elbow. “Happy?” You questioned tauntingly and your smirk grew as you saw the man seething. Despite his intimidating height, you couldn’t help but think he looked like a cartoon character with the way you were sure steam would be bursting out of his ears at any second. When he made no further move to continue the fight, you swiftly turned around and walked out of the room, smiling when you heard him yell in frustration and throw something to the floor. The knife, you presumed. 

You didn’t bother visiting the doctor to help you treat your wounds as you wrapped a strap of clothing around it and called it a day. Any respect you had for him instantly flew down the drain when you caught him drinking the rubbing alcohol meant for treating wounds and acting immaturely all the time. You walked in the direction of the exit, making sure to not be spotted by any soldiers as you did. When you finally got there and pushed the door open, you let out a breath of relief. The moment you stepped out the door and into the clean air of the outdoors, you felt yourself relax a little more than before. You found it odd how you felt more relaxed outside of the safe haven the stadium provided but you couldn’t help yourself. In the outdoors, you felt free. You could think without hindrance and allow yourself to feel an emotion that wasn't complete and utter despair.

The ground crunched below your feet as you walked across the gravel towards the green grass fields. You had no objective or destination in mind for today, you just wanted to escape the oppressive hands of your 'superiors.'

Walking on light feet, still making sure to keep your head focused on the area around you in case a monster appeared, you found yourself standing in front of a building. There was nothing special about this building. Half of it wasn't even attached as it lay broken in shambles around the structure. The ladder leading to the roof was rusted and had some of the metal bars sticking out awkwardly. The building in total was relatively normal and in good shape compared to those around it.

The only special thing about this building was the memories that it spurred within your head. 

You climbed up the ladder, tears blocking your vision as they collected on your waterline despite your deepest efforts. You lost everyone. You lost Hyun-su; the boy you called home; the boy you called your soulmate; the boy you loved more than anyone or anything else. You lost Ji-su, the girl you decided you could call your best friend after spending so much time with her on the first floor of Green Home for those days at the beginning of this mess. You even lost Su-yeong, the little girl you’d grown so protective over… gone without a second thought. You never truly had Eun-yu so it wouldn’t hurt as much whether or not she had died. The only person you truly felt you had left was Yeong-su. You hated yourself for doing this to him but only having him wasn’t enough to stay anymore. 

You felt like you were drowning. You were unable to handle the constant feeling of your emotions overpowering you. You’d heard so many times that it got easier as time went on but you never thought you would be able to overcome this. Although it might have been fitting to end your life by drowning, you just wanted a quick and painless death.

Falling solved that for you. 

When you finally climbed the ladder to the roof of the building, you couldn’t help the sobs that wracked your body. You hopped up onto the edge of the building and looked up. The sky seemed to perfectly oppose how you were feeling. Soft, puffy white clouds were fluttering through the atmosphere and forming different shapes you could just barely make out. The tears slipped down the side of your face as you tried to gain some sort of peace before you followed through with your decision. 

The wind was a gentle, cool breeze across your damp cheeks as you stood and glanced across the beautiful terrain below you. The grass had just barely begun to grow out of its perfect and well-maintained state, but it was still a wonderful sight to see. There were flower gardens surrounding the tall building, some crushed brutally by the falling of the walls but most were left perfectly untouched and thriving in the new world. The sight made your body calm down, the tears cascading waterfalls of sorrow down your cheeks slowly coming to a stop. You’ve heard of the acceptance of death people have when they know they’re about to die. You’d never thought you would have to face that kind of acceptance, never really thought the way you’d die would be because the world had been cruel and gave you too much pain for you to handle. You never thought that yet there you were.

There you were, standing on the edge of the tallest building you could find, one foot raised and hovering over the edge and you giving one last smile to the world before having your other foot join it. 

The wind screamed in your ears and you swear you could hear voices within it. Voices calling your name. Voices that sounded too similar to one you’d lost. You let your eyes fall shut as memories flashed through your mind. Memories of reading to Su-yeong and Yeong-su; memories of playing the guitar and singing with Ji-su, laughter interrupting each word because you couldn’t take yourselves seriously; memories of Hyun-su. 

Memories of shaking his hand when you first met him after he moved in across the hall from you in Green Home. 

Memories of him coming to you crying for the first time and confessing how he couldn’t stand being alive anymore.

Memories of losing yourself in his eyes when he smiled at you.

Memories of his touch against your cheeks when he leaned in to leave a kiss against your forehead.

Memories of him.

A single tear drop fell from your eye and you smiled at the thought of meeting him again, whether that be in your next life or the one that comes after death. There was no doubt in your mind that he was gone, and that thought alone was more than half of your reasons for wanting to end it all. 

Just as you were sure you were about to hit the bottom, a strong yet lean arm wrapped around your body and gently set you down on the ground before retreating just as quickly as it had appeared. You shot your eyes open only to be left with the blue sky above you and the intense wind that breezed over your body as whatever it was that saved you disappeared. For a few moments, you couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t move, couldn’t blink, couldn’t think, couldn’t do anything except stare in perplexment at the sky. As you sat up, you still couldn’t think straight and allowed your body to work on autopilot as it walked you home. 

It took a full week until you were finally able to come to terms with the fact that either you had imagined the whole thing or something - someone - had saved you.

A month after your first attempt, you tried again. You couldn’t handle the stares of disdain and hatred towards you after you had defended Eun-yu as others criticized her about her apparent murder of Chief Ji’s husband. Yet, just like the last time, you were saved miraculously last minute by that same strange force. 

You tried a dozen more times, all ending with the same result. It was so frustrating and you could barely handle the pain knowing you couldn’t even control your death, let alone your life.

The tears streamed down your face violently as you knelt and smacked your fists angrily against the wet, coarse dirt of where you were, once again, gently placed down after another failed attempt to end your life. The shredded noose hung limp around your neck and you ripped it off aggressively. You let out an agonizing scream from the deepest part of your lungs and it ended with more sobs as you let yourself fall onto your side with your knees pulled into your chest. Your loud sobs slowly quieted down but the tears never stopped falling. You stood up from the wet ground, your hair and clothes both stained by the mud below. Water rained down from the heavens, soaking your shirt and making it cling to your chest. Your tears blurred with the raindrops that splashed against you and slowly made their way down your face, disappearing down your neck and into the collar of your shirt. 

“Why are you doing this?” You yelled into the open air, receiving no answer. “Why? Why do you keep doing this? Why won’t you just let me die?” You choked on a sob at that last question and yet you still received no answer. Defeated, you decided to retreat back to the stadium and get cleaned up. When you returned, Jin-ok was the first to notice the bruising around your neck and your tired, puffy eyes. When she asked, you played dumb but you could tell she saw right through you. Luckily, she left it alone. 

You ended up curled up in your hammock for hours as you sobbed your heart out. 

Although the stadium might have been a better place to follow through with your plan, you refused to put your few remaining friends - if you could even really call them that - through that. Put them through the pain of seeing your dead body and knowing they might have been able to stop it. Even though you would be dead by then, you wouldn’t be able to live with yourself. The only way you would allow yourself to follow through was outside of the stadium.

But a certain someone, or something, wouldn’t allow that to happen. 

That was the last time you tried to end your life.

You’d had many dangerous encounters since then but every time they would be cleared out by your guardian angel before you could even really call them a threat. It got to the point where you felt more safe outside the stadium compared to within its concrete walls.

Sighing, you averted your eyes from the building and walked around it, focusing instead on the plants that were just starting to bloom in the early spring. The breeze was a welcome chill that rose goosebumps along your arms. As you continued to walk, your mind blank and your feet destinationless as you wandered, you came across a large pool of water.

And a girl.

She was young, and couldn’t have been more than 5 years old. It was such a shock to see her there, especially all by herself, that you didn’t realize she was sinking until it was almost too late. Without a second of hesitation, you jumped right into the lake and swam as fast as you could towards her. Grabbing a hold of her hand, you pulled her along as you swam back up to the surface. You dragged her towards the edge of the earth where the stable ground met the water and laid her down. Lowering your head to her mouth, you tried to listen to her breathing but instead, you got a headbutt to the ear. She shot up and started coughing up water. You ignored how your ear stung at that moment and instead rubbed along her back while she breathed heavily. 

“Are you okay?” You asked her and she suddenly snapped her head towards you, like she didn’t recognize your presence until you spoke.

Slowly, she nodded. “Yes,” she hesitated before quietly asking, “Did you save me?”

You smiled at her shy mannerisms as she played with the hem of her wet and dirtied dress. “Yeah, I did.”

She looked up at you, almost surprised with your confession, and gave you a shy smile back. “Thank you,” she whispered before averting her eyes again.

You couldn’t stop the smile growing even brighter on your face at her adorableness. You looked around, seeing nobody else in sight. Your eyebrows furrowed as you began to worry about who she was and why nobody was taking care of her. “Are you alo-”

Just as you started to speak, a wet and slimy tentacle-like appendage wrapped itself around your torso and yanked you back into the lake. You thrashed around but couldn’t unravel yourself from the monster’s grip. You saw your knife float away and sink further down the dark abyss that was the bottom of the lake. With it, the last of your newfound hope to live followed. Just as you lost the last of the reserved air in your lungs, a sudden figure dove into the water and wrapped its arm around you. Just before your eyes fluttered shut, you swore you saw the blurry face of the same boy who haunted your dreams. The boy who haunted your nightmares.

The same boy who haunted your mind as you stuttered between the line separating life and death after surrendering to the lack of oxygen. 

“Hyun-su!”

You screamed as you saw the military take him away. You lay helplessly against the side of the crumbling Green Home building as the pain of moving around too much from your wounds caused you to be dead-weight in your spot. 

He let out a scream of agony that ended with your name and you felt your heart shatter. He was surrounded by multiple people; doctors, scientists, and soldiers alike. Each person’s face was surrounded by a strange darkness. The only thing you could make out of their faces were their evil, wide smiles, and their eyes tainted a demonic red. The sight made you feel even more helpless and despair-ridden than before.

You could do nothing but watch as the love of your life was taken from you without a second thought. 

Hyun-su gathered you in his human-form arm while the other, extended in his monstrous form, swung back and forth through the water to slice at the monstrous being that dared to harm you. He didn’t waste much more time under the water to fight the beast as he noticed your eyes had slipped shut and you weren’t releasing any more air bubbles. He surged upwards, his wing doing most of the work as he darted through the surface of the water and onto the solid ground near the same little girl you had saved before.

Lying you down on the ground gently, he lowered his head to your mouth to hear if you were breathing, cursing quietly when he realized you weren’t. It was at times like these that he thanked whatever deity existed that he allowed himself to be persuaded by his parents to be a lifeguard for a summer. That way, he learned and was certified in CPR. 

Plugging your nose, he administered two breaths into your mouth before pressing his - now both fully human - hands to your chest. Just as he prepared for the first chest compression, you suddenly started coughing and turned onto your side as you continued to cough up the water from your lungs. He was so thankful there wasn’t enough water in your lungs that he would’ve had to break your ribs giving you CPR. 

But he would choose broken ribs over a body that wasn’t breathing any day.

After coughing your lungs dry, you fell onto your back with your eyes closed as you took many deep breaths. Suddenly, you remembered the face you clearly remember saving you and shot up into a sitting position, your eyes wide and surprised. Your gaze immediately fell upon him.

Hyun-su.

You held your breath as your eyes met and you stared at each other for a few moments. Your hand hesitantly raised to reach out for him. His gaze didn’t stray from your own as you brought your hand to his face, a mix between a sigh and a sob leaving your throat as you felt the soft skin of his cheek touch your fingertips. He was wet and cold, but he was alive. A smile grew onto your face but it dropped just as Hyun-su’s began to form. You yanked your hand away as if his skin suddenly burned you, and it might as well have. You could see the hurt expression taking over his face but the feeling of the anger, betrayal, and grief flooding through your veins overpowered any feelings of remorse you might have felt. Taking a quick moment to look around for the child you saved, you let out a small sigh of relief when you saw her innocently watching the interaction between you and Hyun-su, breathing normally and sitting safe and sound on the grass.

“Take care of her for me, will you?” You asked him coldly, not waiting for an answer as you stood up and started speed walking in the opposite direction. 

“No, wa- wait!” He scrambled to stand up, calling after you as you ignored his advances. “Stop!” He finally caught up to you and wrapped his hand around your bicep gently, turning you around to face him. 

“What? What the fuck is so important that you finally feel the need to talk to me?” You let out a sob of a laugh as you ripped your arm away from him. You could slowly see the realization of why you were acting so angry and upset dawn on his face as guilt settled into his eyes. “You’ve gone this entire time being just fine as you save my life just to leave me there, alone, time and time again. So please - please - explain to me what is now so important you feel the need to reveal yourself to me.”

You looked at him expectantly as his mouth opened and closed, looking for an answer. He seemed to find it as he finally said, “I just… I really thought you died this time. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

You looked at him, frustrated, for a moment before harshly scrubbing your palms over your eyes which were tearing up against your will. “So… what, after all the times you saved me, now you want to check on my safety?” Taking a deep breath, you forced your face to look calm, masking your anger for his sake so you could get out of this situation with as little hindrance as possible. You dropped your hands to your sides, your tears smeared across your face leaving it in a shiny glow. “Well thank you, Hyun-su, for your consideration,” you spoke the last word with bitterness lacing your tone that you could tell he caught as he winced softly. “But I am fine.”

You turned around, fully intent on heading back to the stadium when his hand wrapped around your bicep again. “What?” You asked angrily and turned around only to be pulled into a tight hug. You didn’t waste time in fighting his grip but he was relentless. “Let me go!” You screamed at him, although it was muffled by his shirt. “You’re such an asshole! I fucking mourned for you! I built a fucking memorial and brought a flower every single week without fail and yet you were never fucking dead! Why did you keep letting me think you were dead?” You were now pounding your fists into his chest, no longer resisting his embrace but expressing the built-up anger, sadness, grief, and self-loathing you felt every single day. It all stemmed solely from the way you hated yourself for not trying harder to save him. Not trying harder to resist Eun-hyuk when he told you and Eun-yu he would bring him back. “Was it you? Was it you every time I was stopped? Every time I was in danger, it was you who saved me, wasn’t it? What gave you the fucking right?” The crying started again. In turn, your hits became less and less powerful with each strike along with your screams gradually quieting. “Why did you have to leave me?” You sobbed out and let your head fall onto his chest as he buried his face in your hair. Your hands clutched onto his t-shirt as if trying to anchor him to you, scared that if you let him go, he would disappear again. Your knees gave out, exhausted by the emotional turmoil washing over you from the last five minutes. And so soon after death caressed you on the cheek too. Hyun-su caught you and slowly lowered the two of you to the ground, never once breaking the embrace. 

You sat in silence, only broken by the sound of your sobs as they slowly subsided. When you settled down, you spoke once more. 

“Did you know I was in love with you?” You didn’t feel any physical reaction from him that would express what he was feeling in that moment so you continued. “I never stopped. Loving you, I mean. I don’t think I ever will, but god, I hate you so much right now.”

There were a few silent beats where the only sound you could hear was the sound of his heartbeat against your ear until he spoke. 

“I didn’t think I would be able to handle seeing you again and find you with this exact reaction. By the time I left the military’s grasp, I tried to find you but then I saw you on that ledge.”

It surprised you and calmed your nerves all the same. 

“I knew I was just being a coward but I thought too much time had passed for me to just show up. Today was just a bit different.” He leaned back a bit to look at you and you did the same. He gave a small smile when he saw you again, with your wet eyes and glistening cheeks you looked wonderful. Even after sobbing your heart out, you were still the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen. “My love, I’ve loved you since the first moment I saw you, and I never stopped either,” he leaned in slowly so your foreheads rested against each other and your noses brushed. “And if you need time to stop hating me, I’ll wait as long as it takes.”

You looked into his radiating brown eyes as the last tear slipped from your own before bringing a hand up to cup his cheek once again. You let out a small laugh which he returned with an adoring smile. Leaning in, you pressed your lips against his in a soft, unhurried kiss. He slid a hand up from where it was pulling you into his embrace to rest against the back of your neck as he held you against him. When the both of you were smiling too much to continue the kiss, you leaned back just enough to stare into each other’s eyes. The adoration and love you had for each other would be clear for anyone to see from the way you gazed at each other.

You suddenly pushed forward and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him close and hugging him once more. He sat still for a moment as he processed what you did only to wrap his arms around your waist. He hugged you just as tight and with just as much desperation as you did.

“God, I missed you so much,” you whispered into his ear and he sighed shakily into the spot where his face was buried in your neck. 

“I missed you too, so much. I’m so sorry for not coming back sooner.”

“Well, you’re here now, and that’s all that matters to me,” you reassured him and he physically relaxed, his shoulders untensing and him falling further into your embrace. 

The sound of the soft pattering of footsteps interrupted the moment you two were sharing. However, it was entirely welcome when you saw the little girl you had saved before standing beside you. You pulled away from Hyun-su, but not too far as he grabbed onto one of your hands. You smiled at him slightly, he was obviously just as starved of your touch as you were his.

“Hi there,” you told her gently when you turned back to her, not wanting to scare her in any way. “What’s your name?”

She looked down shyly, not answering until Hyun-su reached out to her with his hand. “It’s okay, she’s a good one,” he reassured her as he brushed some stray wet strands of her pin-straight black hair out of her face when her small hands were unable to. He took her hand and gently pulled her closer to the two of you. It made you smile as you saw them interact. The caring and soft way Hyun-su acted with her reminded you so much of a father interacting with his daughter.

It just made you love him even more.

He gave her one more nod of reassurance before she timidly introduced herself.

“M-my name is Ah-yi,” she stuttered out and you silently cooed at her adorable little shy smile. “Thank you for saving me, Miss.”

“Of course, Ah-yi, you are very welcome,” you gave her your own smile and some of her shyness seemed to fade away. You then gave her your name and she visibly brightened up. 

“You’re the princess!” You gave her a confused smile with a small laugh as she then began to explain. “Oppa’s told me stories about you! How you’re the princess of the big green castle and how he was a knight in shining armor who was saved by you, the warrior princess!” She talked animatedly with her hands swinging around wildly and her chest puffing out at the end to make her seem stronger. Your lips formed a big smile as you looked over at Hyun-su to see him lightly glaring at Ah-yi with a big blush coating his cheeks. 

“Ah, so you’ve told stories about me, have you?” You teased him and he looked at you before rolling his eyes. 

“Shut up,” he mumbled and you yelped as he yanked on your hand, sending you falling onto his chest with a loud laugh. 

You talked a bit more with Ah-yi, somehow ending with her laying her head in your lap as you leaned against Hyun-su with your back to his chest. The three of you watched the clouds, pointing out any shapes you could find and making up stories that Ah-yi seemed to love. Every time you looked over at Hyun-su, you could see all of his attention focused on you and how you interacted with the small child. 

Time seemed to fly as eventually, the sun started to fade into the distance, only leaving splotches of light shining through the leaves of the tall trees surrounding you. All three of you stood up and you glanced in the direction of the stadium with sad eyes. You couldn’t stand the thought of leaving Hyun-su yet. Even the thought of leaving the small girl you had grown strongly attached to in the past few hours broke your heart. Hyun-su seemed to sense your hesitation as he grabbed your hand. 

You looked back at him and he looked at you so fondly you felt like your heart might burst. With his thumb gently caressing your knuckles, he looked you in the eyes and said, “Stay. Stay with me. With us. You don’t have to go yet.”

He seemed just as desperate to make up for lost time with you as you were with him. His eyes widened and that smile you loved so dearly formed on his face when you nodded with little thought put into the decision. Pulling you closer with his arm circling your shoulders and one of yours circling his waist while the other hand reached out for Ah-yi to grab. She practically leaped at the opportunity.

“You ready, princess?” Hyun-su asked you in a soft teasing voice and you looked up at him with the same passionate smile gracing your lips. 

“Lead the way, my shining knight.”

~~~

Pt 2: Floating Above Those Dark Skies :)

[ravencincaide]

Desperate times call for desperate measures 

Summary:  You leave your small twins with Dazai and Chuuya and hope the two of them can manage their fatherly-duties while you take an hour of much needed ‘me time’. Scratch that, you just needed long enough to take a shower in order to feel human again before going back to being a mom.

Pairing: Dazai x Chuuya xfem! Reader 

Inspired by Sweetober prompt 8: Napping together

Warning: Cursing, hints at depression/ postpartum depression, New parents/exhausted parents.

Enjoy~

______________________________________________________________

You were going to kill Chuuya. 

No, you decided as you paced back and forth around the house, rocking the fussing twins in your arms. You were going to kill Mori for dragging your Chuuya out of his parental leave to deal with whatever shit Dazai had gotten himself into. You had thought the suicidal maniac of a lover would have gotten more efficient on missions- or at the very least more considerate. Nope. Still, somehow, if one part of twin dark was sent on a mission, he’d get in sufficient shit to need the second one's assistance. 

Responsible adults, your ass.

You sighed as the wailing continued with no amount of rocking, hushing, singing and pacing doing much to ease the tears. You were also silently cursing Chuuya for getting you pregnant with twins, why couldn’t it have been one to start with? Though you admitted as you looked down at the two crying balls of ginger, they were adorably cute; both took after their father in appearance,inheriting Chuuyas ginger hair and stunning blue eyes. With the only seeming resemblance to you being in their chins and petit nose. 

You definitely picked the short straw you mused bitterly as another loud cry made your ears ring. 

The ginger haired girl was crying and waving her doll around every now and then, getting it tangled in your hair or hitting you on the head with it with a surprising amount of strength. Her twin, an almost identical copy of her with slightly fluffier hair and larger eyes, was just gripping onto you and crying. He wasn’t wailing as loudly as his sister but the teardrops that rolled down his cheeks were larger, almost comical. 

There was no doubt in your mind that they were setting each other off. And all this mess because you got distracted and missed nap time. 

God you could feel yourself reaching your limit. What you’d give for just a little bit of time to yourself- a few hours was all you asked for. Something you hadn’t seen much of- if any after giving birth. As soon as the twins were born you got to spend a month in the hospital recovering before you and the babies were allowed home. Then it went downhill from there. First the wonderful nanny that you had picked out had to leave your services. The agency you hired her through was quick to send a replacement, but that woman got killed in an unfortunate plane crash. Getting another replacement was proving more challenging. Then almost directly after, despite being barely at home Dazai pulled from parental leave due to ‘emergencies’; first several back-to-back abroad missions where he’d only come home for a few days tops and then his last one for which he left over two months ago. You had Chuuya but even he had to go back into the office several times a week.In the best case.  If that wasn’t making your existence miserable, suddenly Dazai needed backup out of the blue, forcing Chuuya to leave without warning in the middle of the night. 

For the last two months you were completely alone. 

You had to do everything; from childcare to household chores, to different parenting classes and doctors visits with the two. In the evenings after putting them to bed you’d be sitting and going through reports and reviewing mission statements to keep your lovers workload manageable and the department not at a standstill. It became your job to ensure subordinates were still sent out on missions and nothing critical, that couldn’t wait until their return, got missed. Then you’d get a little cleaning and food prep done,  shower if you managed to do that before the babies woke up for their nightly feedings. When you’d crawl into bed you’d shut your eyes for twenty minutes at a time, plagued by nightmares of your partners drying and being a failure as a mother. When you’d finally calm your demons, the twins would get hungry again so you’d be up to warm the bottle for them before changing them and rocking them back to sleep. Sometimes you’d fall asleep right on the soft carpeted floor with both of them cuddling to your chest, sleeping a few hours longer than in their own beds. 

Those mornings were your salvation. 

You let out a loud groan, looking up at the ceiling as you felt tears sting your eyes. You didn’t know if children were meant to scream and cry so much. You didn’t know if you were doing this right or wrong. You didn’t know what you were supposed to do. You just wanted them to be healthy and happy- why couldn’t you do that? You brought them closer to your chest and pressed a kiss to each of their foreheads. “ Mama’s trying her hardest” you muttered as you continued to rock them “Mama would really really need a helping hand though.” 

-

It seemed gods took pity on you just this once. 

You nearly broke down crying or screamed out in joy when you heard the car pulling up to your driveway. Then silence before a key pushed into the lock followed by the door swinging opened. 

“ Sweetheart we’re back!” Chuuya yelled as he kicked off his shoes. You heard Dazai’s voice muttering something to him, the bickering overshadowed by the twins' cries. You made quick way towards the hallway. The moment Chuuya and Dazai came into sight, new screams filled the house; excited cries of “ Dada” and “ papa” which bounced off the walls, a bitter reminder that you children were never this excited to see you. 

You could see Chuuya chuckling, a bright expression on his face full of love and happiness. He didn’t seem the slightest bit bothered by the yelling- if anything it seemed to fill him with contagious happy energy and an eagerness to get his damned coat off so he could come to the children. Dazai, dressed in completely white attire, which resembled something between a prison uniform and the dresscode of asylum patients seemed less happy about the screaming. But even he had a smile playing on his lips as he hurried towards you at the same time as Chuuya, who had given up on hanging his coat and just threw it on the ground. The two were practically tripping over each other, with each ‘papa’ and ‘dad’ cry getting more and more eager to get to you, limbs frailing; hands, arms and snappy remarks at each others inability to get out of the others way. 

Finally they seemed to remember how to walk and the bottleneck in your hallway was replaced by two adult men rushing towards you. 

“ How are my loves?” Chuuya cheered looking far too happy as he hurried pressed a kiss to your children's heads. First the boy then the girl. Dazai did the same in the opposite order, both ignoring you and your puckered lips. 

For a second a pang of jealousy hit your heart. You hadn’t seen your partners in over two months and before greeting you, their attention was on the children. Picture perfect fathers. Shitty lovers. And the second the thought entered your head you felt your heart drop to your stomach with guilt. In what sane world was a mother jealous of the attention her babies were getting? You should be happy and proud that both of your partners- not only the biological father- cared so deeply for the balls of joy you created. Though, you added almost bitterly, right now these two brought you anything but joy. 

“ Here” you stated in a slightly bitter tone as you pawned over one kid per partner “ Do everyone a favour and act like fathers for longer than 30 seconds.  I need some ‘me- time’ before I murder someone” 

Chuuya and Dazai shared a look of bewilderment between each other as you stepped away from them. They had expected kisses, hugs and a warm dinner but got a kid each and a blank stare in return. Dazai stared at your retreating form with agap mouth for a moment before he stretched the little girl towards Chuuya; “ Here Chuuya be a good dad, me and Y/N have some catching up to do.” 

You pretended to ignore what he said, the same way he ignored your comment about ‘me time’. Though you wondered if you should at the very least make them dinner before taking out that ‘me time’ moment. 

“ Heeh stop being so bitter and just hold her, Mackerel.” Chuuya snapped trying to get the boy to settle in his arms “if your swimmers could actually swim they’d be your kids” 

“ Don’t be such a slug about it” Dazai declared as he turned his attention away from Chuuya as the boy began sobbing again making Chuuya curse before attempting to pacify him. Zero attention to either Dazai or the girl in his arms. 

In the process the girl-child who had just settled down, amusing herself by pulling on strands of Dazai’s grown out hair, turned her attention away from him and towards her crying brother. Seeing him cry, her eyes began to water.

 In seconds Dazai’s attention was back to you; “ Ohh Belladonna you’d not be so cruel as to demand your newly returned partner whom you haven’t seen for months to be a father without sleep or proper meal “ Despite his dramatic words he shifted the girl to his other arm so her back was to her brother and began rocking her more quickly. His second hand was trying to keep her attention on the doll she had abandoned in favour of his hair. The very doll she had been hitting you with not even ten minutes earlier.  Scratch your earlier thoughts. They were adults and older than you- they knew how to order in or warm up leftovers! 

You sighed heavily before you went towards the kitchen and the fridge. “ Then you boys are in agreement that we stop at two right?” You questioned  when you returned with a cold rattle for the boy. He was quick to grasp it in his hands before beginning to chew on it. The relief it brought was sufficient to stop the tears. 

For now. 

When you got no reply, you motioned between the two of them and then to the children in their arms. If you weren’t so tired you’d have laughed at the look of horror drawing of Dazai’s face as he realized you were serious, and then the very hurt expression at the mere idea of not having any children of his own with you. That look melted a piece of ice around your heart.  “ Or can you manage to look after them for an hour while I take a shower in peace?” 

Your lovers nodded eagerly, both giving you a salute before shuffling off towards the baby proofed living room with toys, a playpen and floor covered in soft playmats. Your eyes lingered long enough until they were out of sight before you headed upstairs to your bedroom. Once there you dragged yourself towards the chair by your make up table which had a thin layer of dust over your make up palettes. Serving as a bitter reminder of just how ‘much’ time you dedicated towards yourself in the past months. The thought plastered a bitter smirk on your face; no wonder you didn’t get as much as a kiss-hello from either Dazai or Chuuya. 

You dropped in the chair with a heavy sigh and buried your head in your hands. You didn’t understand what was wrong with you. You didn’t understand where you were making mistakes; how could other mafia women manage to do so much more? More time with children, more work, more chores- many would even visit headquarters to spend lunch with their husbands. 

Husbands- the word brought a bitter taste to your mouth. How long have you three been together already? How many milestones have you celebrated? Missions, promotions, twins. Plans for extending the family with at least one more kid- Dazai’s. And still your ring finger remained bare. In fact after the icy greeting today you doubted your relationship would ever move anywhere positive from this standstill. 

You heard steps outside your bedroom, irritated and heavy before the door to your bedroom swung open with Dazai’s usual dramatic appearance “ Ahh my sweet Belladonna my heart-”

You didn’t need to turn around to know the look he was wearing.” One hour” you stated “ Or no more kids. Your choice” 

The door closed as quickly as it had opened. 

The peaceful silence didn’t last for long. Though you didn’t know how long you were sitting in your thoughts, salvaging a moment of being alone, you knew it couldn’t have been longer than five minutes before you were interrupted again. This time the footsteps outside your door were calmer and more confident. Their owner opened the door very gently. You closed your eyes biting back the frustration as you heard Chuuya’s half hesitant whisper “Sweetheart..” 

“ What is it, Chuuya?” You still didn’t have it in you to face him. 

“ If you want to soak in the bath, it's ready any minute now” You nodded, feeling a wave of guilt wash over you. Maybe you shouldn’t have been so cold to him. Especially when he went out of his way to do something nice for you. “ Also, do you know where the nursing bottles are?” 

There it was. 

“ There are some prepared bottles in the fridge; just place them in boiling water for a few seconds until they’re body temperature. Not too hot.” You rubbed your temple as you spoke, fighting off the want to cry and scream much like the children downstairs. These were things he as their father was supposed to know. Or at least be able to figure it out on his own. He could lead an entire faction on his own, why couldn’t he handle a baby or two? 

After your reply you heard Chuuya linger in the doorway for a few moments. You pictured him opening and closing his mouth, hesitating as he thought over what to do. A hopefully side of you hoped he’d come in and wrap his arms around you and just hold. Just fucking hold you for a moment without the children being present. Then another cry from downstairs and he was gone; the door shutting quietly behind himself. 

You waited for a moment, gathering your strengths before leaving the safety of your room, rushing quietly through the small hallway, trying not to waver at the sound of the children's cries. Once in the bathroom you closed and locked the door before leaning your back against it. Why did no one tell you that when you’d become a mother you’d become so alone while constantly surrounded by others? 

Shaking your head you stripped before climbing into the baths. You let out a low moan as the feeling of bath salts soothed your skin. Then salvaged the moment of humanity as you dipped your head underwater with the realization you didn’t need to watch anyone while you washed. Then you reached for the shaving blade and shaving cream, getting rid of the hair on your body that annoyed you more than you’d ever wish to admit. 

When you got out of the bathtub and showered off, you felt human. Like a sliver of being a woman was returned to you. Dressing in clean clothes only reinforce that.  Now then you were feeling more ready to tackle the rest of this cursed day.

Coming out of the bathroom you noticed how quiet it was. The silence filled you with dread; anyone with children knew that the only time they were quiet was either when something was wrong or they were up to something, while anyone acquainted with Dazai and Chuuya were very aware that the two together were constantly either bickering or yapping.

Silence like this filled you with dread. 

Throwing your dirty laundry carelessly to the side you rushed downstairs, heart in your throat. When you made it down the stairs you stopped, shocked as the sound of snores reached your ears. More carefully you made your way towards the livingroom being cautious to remain light on your feet. 

Once there you leaned against the wall, your eyes falling on the heartwarming sight before you. All four of them were on the soft playmat. Chuuya was lying stretched out on his back on his coat, an arm dropped over his eyes and loud snores resonating around the room. On his chest lay your daughter with his hat covering her head from the light. His hand was on her body keeping her close to himself. Dazai was lying curled up into a ball on his side, beside Chuuya. His messy head on his thigh. Your son laying in his arms, held close to himself through a make-ship baby-carry out of his bandages. Although he wasn’t snoring you could tell he was fast asleep by the rise and fall of his shoulders. 

Going over to the couch you picked up the warm covers before gently placing it over them. You saw Dazai stir, a sleepy eye opening just long enough to register that you weren’t a threat then he shifted slightly, creating a space between him and Chuuya for you. “ Don’t be a stranger Belladonna” he whispered as he beckoned you to lay down between them. 

Once you did, he wrapped one arm around you, the second one still holding your son in place, before he buried his face in your hair. He took a deep breath in and out, his hand finding yours and squeezing it once before interlocking your fingers together. “ I’ve missed you” he muttered, his eyes sliding shut in tiredness “ Lets rest now and when we wake up I wanna give you a proper greeting Bella” 

Before you could answer he was fast asleep. Which was probably good because it saved you the embarrassment of explaining why his one sentence brought you to tears.  

______________________________________________________________

Author note: Craving part 2?

Check out We need to talk for the sweeter version, and Happy Unhappy home! For more angst.

All fics are unique works by ©ravencincaide 2024. Do not copy/repost/translate or spread my work(s) without my explicit permission. If you see any of my work(s) reposted/copied anywhere else without my consent, please inform me!

[bloodycassian]

Divinity - threesome, Azriel x Reader x Cassian - smut with plot.

Angst and pining turns into tender smut - skip to +++++++++++ for just the smut.

warnings and themes below -

dirty talk, P in V, Oral, praise kink (slightly), mating bond, mentions of blood, mentions of death, stalker-ish behavior, suggested bondage, suggested BDSM/brattamer!Azriel, thoughts of suicide, jealousy and envy, alcoholism, mentions of painkillers

Cassian was a dog. He knew it but watched anyway. He didn’t know why it happened, why it had to be you, but he didn’t bother to deny the insatiable craving he had for you when he was this deep into his cups. He turned into an utter and complete animal for the sight of you before him. He was already drooling. He’d be on all fours in a second if it’d appease you. Entranced, he followed your every move, eyes lingering on all the perfect curves and dips of your body as you danced.

Then came the hands upon your hips, so similar to his own, in all but the scarring. 

His own brother in bond didn’t know how Cassian lusted for you. How, in the darkest nights when he knew none would hear, he often pleasured himself to the mental image of you. He once feared Azriel has become aware of the way he felt about the shadowsinger’s mate, but there was never an attempt on Cassian’s life. Surely if Azriel had known, Casisan would be dead on the spot. 

He his behind his pint, taking a long sip before banishing you from his mind. 

He turned in his chair, facing the rest of the crowd that swayed to the band’s music. His stomach clenched and unclenched, as if  not leering at the one he lusted for warred with his very being. He ached. His body, his mind, something deep inside his chest, in his diaphragm keened and pitched - gods he was drunk.

He slapped down a few gold marks and slid from his chair, pushing his hair back from his eyes. Sickness overwhelmed him exiting the bar. Patrons rustled in and out, several attractive fae that gave him looks as he strode out. None seemed quite right though. None were you.

He doubled over and vomited in the streets of Velaris. 

+

He found solace only when you shared quiet evenings together at dinner, Azriel idly brushing lightly over your hand and serving you different foods. Envy gripped Cassian, a noose and a leash. His guide and his demise. He couldn’t look his brother in the eyes when you were around. 

At least his body wasn’t aching. 

+

He found more and more reasons to be around you. His headaches and nausea were growing worse by the week. He’d visited Madja at least three times in the last month, but nothing could be done about his condition. “Perhaps you should take a break from Ritas, General.” She’d scolded, eyeing the way his hands shook and his pallor. 

He hadn’t admitted how the pain only subsided when you were around. If you were his solution, then he’d find another. Eventually. When he had the time. 

But he was so consumed by the pain, he found himself merely enduring life when you weren’t around. Rhys had even begun to question him, commanding that Cassian go to the Illyrian healers and make sure that the more spiritual side of him was alright. He knew how skeptical Rhys was concerning the ‘mage’ centers there, therefore it was no comfort that he’d been so adamant about it.

Cassian drifted. He drank more. He wallowed around at the house of wind, just to be free of the hold the pain had on him. It seemed to be the only place he could find relent from the aching in his diaphragm. His hands shook in the mornings after he’d dreamed of you, just a few doors away. He wondered if you felt his heated presence when he was around, if you saw the way his eyes widened and how he seemed unable to breathe properly when looking into your eyes. 

Then he’d glance over to where Azriel stood, strapping on his belt of weapons or leaping form the balcony, and the shame would shatter him. He’d hide from you for days at a time while Azriel was away, hoping to the Mother that his cock didn’t get him assassinated by his own brother. 

He would leave - he should leave. But what the hel was he meant to do about the migraines, the stomach cramps that accompanied him departing your vicinity? 

He could stay, and risk becoming a homewrecker, or he could leave and be hollowed out on the inside by some of the most intense internal pain he’d ever experienced.

He almost wished Azriel would end him.

+

The illyrian camps were the same as they’d always been. A part of him joyed in seeing the soldiers take up guard as he flew over. He was the Lord of Bloodshed here. A traitor, the male who’d killed an entire village of them for what they’d done to his mother. He would not be disrespected here. 

He winced at the landing, the only thing keeping him flying being the pain management he’d bought from the back alley of a mage’s shop. One known for peddling above average doses. 

He knew drinking himself stupid wouldn’t get him all the way to the Steppes. He also knew showing up to the mages caves would be somewhat dangerous, espically not knowing what’ they’d need to do to fix him. So he’d paid a hefty bag of coin for the shiny purple bottles, and it’d paid off. He would need to be sober for this interaction. 

The front door was a ragged, sunbleached patchwork of driftwood from the beach down the mountain. The gaps between packed with mud and moss, carvings dotting every surface. Some were clearly from children, faded scrawled names and hearts and wings. The majority of the others were symbols, whorls and shapes that almost resembled letters.

He knocked lightly, then entered. The sun on his back disappeared, and his teeth chattered slightly, not entirely from the shade.

“A rare visit from a royal such as yourself” A female voice called, deep and soft and something he would have found sultry if he could think of any female but you. She appeared from behind a partition, holding a bowl with twigs and things rising from the edges. 

He straightened as she breathed deeply. Her eyes flickered beneath her lids, scenting him. Taking stock of his recent history. He shuddered, and the pain lanced through him for a moment. His teeth ground together. He would not fear a female as small as her. But the power she held… it seemed to radiate from her, like the embrace of a fire. 

“I am no royal. I just happen to have a convenient connection to some.” He quipped back, mood souring as his pain spiked and faded. The sawing knives in his gut had grown sharper and hotter with every wingbeat away from Velaris before he’d taken the potion a quarter of the way to the Steppes. Was it already wearing thin? 

“What ails you then, Lord of Bloodshed?” She cocked her head to the side, daring him to dispute his battle earned title. She ran a finger over the lip of the bowl, her eyes tracking the movement of his hand to the center of his torso.

“Shouldn’t you know by now?” He couldn’t help the hand he used as support in that aching spot, just between his ribs. He wasn’t dying, he knew that at least. He’d been close enough to death before to know what it’d be like when it truly came for him. 

“I sense pain, yes. But to truly know you’d have to allow me access to  the afflicted area.” 

Reluctantly, he followed her to the area behind the partition, which was beautifully adorned with dried herbs upon the wall, hanging upside down from several strings. The candlelight flickered over every surface, making shadows dance and radiate a warm glow over the bed upon the floor. 

He removed his tunic. Her eyes darted over his body, every part of his sculpted muscle. Her tongue flicked over her lips. “If you want your coin, you’ll quit smiling like that.” He warned. 

She hissed a laugh, but motioned for him to lay flat on the bed. 

“You may find these methods strange, and different from how your healers in the courts handle things. But you must trust that I am going to help you.” She began, the words practiced and falling from her tongue so quickly he could hardly keep up with the pounding in his head. 

“We will begin with a full body check.” She lit something that began smoldering on a shelf to her side. “I will be sensing your energy from your key points, finding the difficult areas and allowing that to guide me where I sense it is taking me.” Something wet smeared against his cheekbones, but he was beginning to ease into the process with much more willingness now as she explained. 

“It may seem like your afflicted areas become hot or tense when we begin to heal them, but please refrain from moving. The flow of energy is determined by your positioning and your emotion.” She was prepping more things, her honey smooth voice lulling him into a trance. More cool sensations dotted his chest, his abdomen. “If you are running, your body sends more energy to your heart. When you are trying to think of things, more to your mind. Just as a plant cannot grow without enough sunlight, we may not grow without enough positive energy. 

Her hand began at his head, kneading his greased hair and the ever present headache eased into a dull hum behind his eyelids. Her fringers traced over his skin, goosebumps breaking out every time they skimmed too lightly. His mind went blank at the warm pressure when he would push lightly on whatever key points she spoke of. Moving to his face, then his shoulders and chest. 

She eased downwards, the moment she skipped over the center he was arching up, pain lancing through him like a hot spike. A firm hand on his shoulder held him down. His eyes flashed open and panic corrupted his mind. 

“You must relax your body, Cassian.” A voice, not the woman’s languid tone but one that was much more intimately familiar to him. One that set his head spinning and stomach doing flips. One he’d imagined everything from fighting with to fucking with. 

But there was no way you were here, this was a trick of the mind. He knew that. He knew it. 

But it worked. And once he was able to relax his muscles again, the roaring pain in his muscles eased. It faded to little more than a dull ache. And for the first time in months, he went fully and completely unconscious. 

+

“I’ve never experienced such a through sickness such as yours, General. What a grip that female holds on you.”

“What are you talking about?” 

“You came here for answers, didnt you? You left your answer back in Velaris.” She pulled a rag from her makeshift sink and tossed it to him. “She is all you need. Your mate. Some scholars believe that-”

“What are you talking about?” He repeated again, his voice echoing through the cave.

She leveled him a look, one that had him straightening. “As I was saying - some scholars believe the refusal of the mating bond is powerful enough to kill. I suggest courting her, if you wish for the pain to ease more quickly.” 

“I don't understand what you are saying. She has a mate. I-” He stammered for the words, unable to comprehend what this female was telling him. Was Rhys right, was all this a scam? A show of something desired for a quick pocket of coin? But that pain he’d experienced - it was eased now. As if temporarily fended off by her power. 

“It is possible to have more than a single mate, Cassian. Especially if both parties of the mated pair are willing.” 

“It is unheard of. Azriel wouldn’t allow it.” He attempted an angry tone, but everything seemed distant and far away. 

Her eyes flashed with the glean of the information. But she kept her composure otherwise. It must have brought pity, from the way her face softened. “Perhaps you do not know all of the Shadowsinger’s secrets. He likely has more than you know.” She blew out the incense and a few of the candles. “But there is no denying that there is a tether in you. A mating bond, quite strong if you’ve been having effects this violent.”

He sat, head spinning. His stomach pitched, but for once it wasn’t because of the illness that infected him when you weren’t around. 

“What do I do, how do I-” His lips were moving, but the words seemed spoken by someone else. He was far, far away from his body and his mind was numb with shock. The words died in his throat before he said them. There wasn’t a single right question to get the answers he needed, and it left him to an ocean of self pity to wallow in. 

“Go to them. At the very least it will ease your suffering.” 

But he was already striding out, leaving a sack of gold marks on the floor behind him. “Mother watch over you, lord of bloodshed.” Her voice echoed through his mind the entire journey home. 

+

Azriel’s mind tricks were strictly forbidden during training, which meant the sight of Cassian approaching with nothing but his leathers on and nothing more than a dagger at his side was real. A rare sight of the General without a sword strapped at his back. His hair was also different, disheveled more than usual. As if he’d been running his hands through it for hours. He was pale, deep purple marks beneath his eyes, standing out even against his dark skin. 

“Cas, what is it?” Azriel turned to the male, not bothering to take up a defensive stance even when Cassian approached him in the ring. 

Something was wrong. Deeply, truly wrong then. 

“I need to speak with both of you.” He said, his voice like gravel. Like he’d been screaming. 

You approached, and they seemed to have a silent exchange. Something in Cassian’s eyes hardened when he looked to the shadowsinger, and there was the slightest nod as he handed Azriel the blade, hilt first. 

Your mate took it uneasily. You’d never seen Azirel seem so uncomfortable with a weapon in hand. He held it loosely, as if it pained him. 

“I can’t say this right. There is no way for me to be able to ever apologize for this. But I need to at least say it once. I am sorry for this. I am sorry for how this is about to fuck everytyhing up. Azriel I understand however you react, and I hope, if you decide to kill me, it is with that blade.” He nodded to the one he’d brought, the tip of it pointed to his stomach. 

“Cassian what-” You began, but his eyes flashed with such pain, such torment and pleading, that it took your breath away. He held your gaze and steadied his mind. This was it then, the moment he’d always hoped for, in some sick way. A part of him joyed that he’d die and no longer have to live with the agonizing guilt. 

“You’re my mate.” He said it, lip curling in disgust at himself. He said it, and seemed to deflate. Azriel was silent, your mouth agape as everything quieted. A beat, two, three. “I’m know it’s at least you. I’m not sure, Azriel if-” He began rambling, his cheeks flaring red beneath the bronze of his skin. The tips of his rounded ears turning a shade of pink. 

Something aligned inside you. Something deep and powerful, shifting the world beneath your feet and settling you into a new reality that seemed wholly incomplete without Cassian. Your eyes went to Azriel for the smallest second, attempting to make sense of what had been said. 

Your mate - your mate, the one you couldn’t imagine life without. The strongest male you’d ever met stood beside you, shaking. 

His shoulders seemed to crumple inwards, his hands trembling fiercely. 

The blade dropped the the ground, the shrill sound of it shocking you from your stupor. Azriel was moving before you could say anything. His hands went to Cassian’s shoulders, pushing him back, and back - stumbling backwards until they were both on the ground. “I asked for the blade-” Cassian ground out.

But Azriel was not choking Cassian, as you thought he may be. When you approached, Azriel was merely staring at him, his eyes locked on the other males in challenge, and in something like awe. 

The same way he watched you, you realized. Your breath hitched in your throat. 

Cassian’s eyes went wide with shock, then they went glassy. His brows pulled up in the middle, and he was breathing something - chanting something over and over. Through the roaring in your ears, his voice  seemed to slip through. A tether, a bond slipping past your mental walls. 

“She was right. She was right, she was right she was right-” It chanted over, and over.

You gripped Azriels shoulder, pulling him backwards off of Cassian. Both of them lay where they’d landed, victims to the reality that was your newly shared bond. 

A tangle of emotion shot through you, forcing you to the ground with them. Pain welled in your mind, your stomach and Azriel groaned along with you. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry-” You weren’t sure if the quivering words were coming from Cassian’s mouth or if they were his mental voice, but it cracked and splintered through your very soul. 

The world seemed to be collapsing, turning inward and eating itself whole. Pain and joy, laced with the scent of sea air and warm woods invaded your mind. Light and fear and an all consuming love roared through every bone in your body along with that seaside forest. Your blood sang with it. You could practically taste it upon your tongue, it was so potent. Through a sea of despair and grief, relief flooded your lungs and refilled you with life again. Cassian. You couldn't’ breathe. Not when his mental self was so all consuming. 

Cassian’s presence flowed through you on a bridge of broken, fired swords melded together with every step he took upon them. Every lick of his essence upon them firing them together, forging a bond of unbreakable steel. 

Another angle of anger, a deep rage and pity appeared. Azriel. You’d know his darkness anywhere, it was a part of you. It was the part of you that was so essential, so ingrained into your life, that you couldn’t imagine living without him. His passion, his smile, his laugh, his eyes - mother above, you were nearly knocked breathless waking up to him every morning. You gripped on to the bond, familiar and comforting as he slid into your mind, meeting you halfway. He embraced you for only a moment, not lingering at your side. His presence flew to the new section of your shared mental space, erupting from the black space like an island from the ocean.

 The bond quivered beneath his wrath, threatening to break that path of shadowy webs and ice. A glacier. that's what Azriel was in comparison. But with the heat of Cassian’s forged bridge, it was not unpleasant. You shied away from neither of them. 

Something happened then, something that was so unexpected from the two of them that it had you questioning what you sensed. A truce of sorts seemed to unfold before you as their presence met in your mind. 

Azriel’s northern drift of snow and ice faltered upon meeting Cassian’s wall of flame. They twined around each other, and a great column of wind flowed between the three of you. Emotion raged, jealousy, resentment, brutality and violence. It was dizzying. But then there was also an undeniable love. A tender, tentative love that shone through it all.  Harmony, and heated desire. A shiver rolled through you, and their presence both seemed to turn towards yours for an instant, distracted. There, in that moment, an unbreakable bond of care radiated from both of them - at war with the violence that begged to be released.

 Your mind was lost to it all, strewn wherever it took you. Indignation, then mouth watering need. Sorrow, then shame. You wished you could stop them, to throw yourself between them and endure the pain of it all alone. You would take it. The honesty of the realization shocked you. You’d easily take the burden of it all if it meant you could have them both, still, without the pain you were feeling second hand. 

The same care washed through them. You could feel it, as real and palatable as the chilled wind that washed over your physical body. 

Light flashed, blinding and warm, and it was over. The sky appeared before you, painted pink from the sunset that shone over Velaris. 

The wind you’d felt had been Azriels shadows gathering, black as the deepest part of the oceans and just as cold. He was standing first, his teeth chattering as he helped you, then Cassian to a standing position. 

“I always thought the bond between us was somehow different than how I felt with Rhys… Like there was an entire world more -” Azriel admitted, his cheeks flushing. Their presence in your mind rose and fell together like the sleeping breaths of a giant.

“I didn’t know. I am truly sorry Azriel-”

You were shocked yet again by Azriel’s next words. “Apologizing is a waste of time. We’ve been destined together, likely for longer than we have been.” He gripped your hand for a moment and squeezed. You weren’t offended. It was probably true, and they’d both been in denial of it for a long, long time. You’d only met Azriel a few hundred years ago, in a freak accident in the Hybern sea - and it had seemed too strange to be anything other than the Caludron mixing your lives together. 

But why had fate - the mother - waited so long to pull the three of you together? 

The questions were forced to wait. 

++++++++++

Azriel pulled you both close, then he was winnowing you together into the house of wind, back to your room. The clothes strewn on the bed felt embarrassing now, but Cassian took in the details greedily. You blocked out the heat that flooded his bridge at the sight of the hook points on the bedposts. Azriel’s coolness fluttered with amusement. You smacked his arm, and he hid his grin while watching the other Illyrian. 

It all seemed so natural, as if accepting Cassian as your mate was as easy as speaking to him.  It fell so in line with how the male truly was. It wasn’t a stretch or any kind of adjustment to make at all, it was as if you’d turned your head and he’d been there all along. Waiting, hoping and hungering after you.

The weapons upon the wall, the shelf of odd books on the other side of the room, even the bedspread were not unfamiliar to Cassian. The books were ones Cassian knew well, from basics of different fighting styles to tomes on battle strategy from all areas of the world. He’d envied Azriel for several of the weapons mounted beside them, most of them won in battles. 

Azriel noticed his admiration and smiled - the two had always had similar taste, after all. The General’s eyes shifted to the other pile of books and slips of paper upon the desk, full of different sketches and stories to be told and read. The empty glasses of water and scattered clothes left atop the bed. 

His eyes settled upon you, his eyes taking on a new confidence, like he’d learned enough from the small observations in your room and he now felt equipped for what was undeniably coming next. He could feel it, roiling beneath his skin, a beast of lust and greed lurking inside him. It took all his strength not to allow it freedom. To battle it every second with you so heated and flushed before him, laid bare on that bond - opened wide to both you and Azriel’s raging desire to claim you..

“This is going to be delectable.” Azriel’s dark voice purred in your mind. Then, the vision of you and Cassian locked in a melting kiss appeared. It was something you’d seen more than a few times when you and Azriel envisioned bringing a third into the bedroom. Your heart sped, forcing blood to pump thickly through your throat. 

“Kiss her.” Azriel suggested, his eyes skimming over Cassian’s body as if drinking him in. As if he were finally allowed to do such a thing. 

“Az, I-” Ever the gentleman, Cassian had to enforce some kind of hesitation, for respect alone. He shivered at even the idea, his mind bending to the thought more than it did with a High Lord’s order.

“She likes it slow, at first.” Azriel described, and you could feel the heat flooding through the bond, swelling your desire further. The anticipation tingled upon your tongue. The green tinged nerves that flowed from Cassian made racing to his hand easier. He didn’t need much convincing to grip yours back, glancing between you and Az. 

“Grip her ass, pull her in and it’ll set her off.” The shadowsinger smiled at your glare, and placed a hand on the small of Cassian’s back, leading him forward. You couldn’t deny the pure heat that coursed through your veins at the sight of your mate wanting another male to fuck you. “Once she’s earned it, I mean.” He ended with a wink. 

You rolled your eyes, and raised your free hand to brush away strands of Cassian’s hair from his face, tucking it behind his ear. “I’m looking forward to not having to deal with him alone any longer.” You let a finger drag over Cassian’s jawline, and he shivered.

Flames rushed down those mental bridges, Azriel’s just as intense as Cassian’s despite fact that the Shadowsinger stood to the side. Shadows darkened the room around you, the anticipation from Azriel apparent through the outline of his trousers. He gave you a nod with those darkened eyes, making your stomach flip, and you stripped your clothes off quickly. Eagerly, you realized with a small part of your mind that was not entirely consumed with arousal.

 Laid bare before them both, on the edge of the bed, just how Azriel’s eyes had suggested. Azriel knew just how to have you obey him. Just like how he knew to push the right buttons when he wanted you to give him attitude so he could punish you. It was a silent, wicked game you played together in private, but with Cassian here… Doubt crept in. A whisper of his thought floated to you. “Another time. He will not be punishing you until we go over rules first, darling.”  Your gaze flicked from Cassian, then back to him. He’d somehow bypassed Cassian with his implanted thought. You could see his pride shimmering behind his eyes at his accomplishment. 

He was cautious with his testing, you could feel it now, the way he cast shadows from your side of the conjoined bridges, to Cassian’s, then back. Attempting to find weak points, or ways to block out you and him. You would have glared at him, if it weren’t for the way he was also palming the hardness in his leathers. Your mouth popped open at the sight. Two males, both powerful and gorgeous and ready to fuck you. 

More than that. They were ready to lay their lives down for you, if it were commanded of them. This was far, far more than just a threesome. You’d have time for those relevations later, though. You reached down, toying with yourself, reveling in the way both of their eyes tracked the movement and how they both swore.

“Dont be shy now, Cas.” Azriel encouraged, his hands going to gently guide the larger male. The feel of the other Azriel’s skin against his own was like kindling to his flame, and the lord of bloodshed would never admit to the way his eyes fluttered back, pulling on years of hard willed training to not devour you before him. 

Here he was getting exactly what he’d envied Azriel for - Hel, being told to take you by Azriel.. And he was still cautious. He blamed his warrior mind. It was a trick, some way to test his loyalty, it had to be… but he coldn’t deny that connection in his mind that he now felt.

You gave a sinister smile, sensing just what your actions were doing to him, and winked. Upon the first touch of his hands - both of their hands - it was hard to hold back. Hard to keep from pulling them to you and fucking them both right there. It sent sparks to the base of your spine, heat to fuel your very bones. Cassian’s breath shuddered from him at the softness of your body, at the way Azriel was guiding him to touch you. 

Thighs, rubbing - massaging really - heavy, petting strokes of his calloused hands everywhere that he’d desired to touch for so long. Everywhere but your glistening cunt, which he scented with every breath. His mouth watered, but even when Azriel stepped away to watch from the end of the bed, Cassian didn’t immediately go to the feast before him. 

No, he wanted this to last. He wanted to savor every part of this experience. So he broke away for only a second to undo his belt, pull down his trousers and give himself a slight relief from the pressure building inside him. 

His cock was a gorgeous thing to behold. He was thicker than Azriel, but a bit shorter, and the slickness of his head had you anticipating the moment you’d taste him. You sat up to do just that, but a rope of Azriel’s shadow whipped forward and guided you back to the bed. You were going to protest but Cassian was grinning at the other Illyrian. 

“We can communicate openly or -” Cassian’s raspy mental voice lowered, and some part of you knew that the next words were just for you. “Privately. Just us, just for him or me or -” Cassian’s voice took on a more echoing tone next. “I can let you both know just how badly I want to bury my cock inside you.”

Your thighs clamped shut on his hands as he ended the thought with a soft thumbstroke over your clit. Azriel hissed, and you whimpered. The male atop you sucked the pad of his thumb between his lips and sighed. “Fucking delicious.” He muttered, his voice similar to his mental tone. 

His wings flared out, and he knelt before you, finally getting a full taste of your arousal. The heat of him was immeasurable, all consuming and completely fucking wonderful. He groaned into it, looking up to watch you, his mouth atop your clit. He lapped at it slowly while you arched and reached for anything - wanting to have Azriel in your hand, your mouth - anywhere. But he only shook his head, the corner of his lip pulling up slightly as he watched.

“Please-” You whined, unable to stop the way your body rolled and ground harder onto Cassian’s mouth. 

“Fuck-” Azriel panted, his hand steadying at the base of his cock. A bead of precome appeared at the tip, and he dabbed it with his finger. The next moment he was right at your side, shadows swirling from winnowing. His finger traced over your lips a moment before you sucked it into your mouth, reveling in the taste, the weight of it. It would have to suffice until he’d give you what you truly wanted. 

Cassian’s tongue flicked greedily lower, soaking you further with his saliva. You rocked into it, needing more than just the teasing licks. Your core ached, need turning into something that was controlling your very action, no matter how depraved. His tongue dipped into your hole, fucking you there for a moment while your eyes rolled back. You squirmed, locking your legs behind his head and pulling him deeper, closer, angling for more. You need the stretch, the fullness of his cock inside you.  the filthy exhilaration of his muffled moan had your legs quivering, weakening their hold enough for him to break away. Your insides quivered around the loss, and a wave of near orgasm pleasure washed through you, forcing your legs to shake. 

Had that feeling been Azriel? You hadn’t been touched nearly long enough to be so close already. Was Cassian - no, Cassian’s length didn’t reveal the same amount of slickeness that Azriels did. You shuddered at the thought of how much this was doing for Azriel. He’d wanted something like this for so long, but had always been too territorial to allow someone else in. The mother seemed to have answered his wish, and Cassian’s in one go.

Cassian sat up on his knees, a wide, smug smile spreading across his soaked lips. The shine of your wetness on his chin and nose sent you into a frenzy, and you moved to sit up, to taste yourself upon him. before you could, Azriel was at his side, kissing him, lapping it from him. Your mouth fell open, dry from the moaning. 

Watching them together was truly a gift. An extension of yourself felt exactly what they were experiencing, and that alone was so intense and heady you could barely focus on actually looking at the two. Cassian’s broad body was so different from Azriel’s lithe figure, so at odds with how many of your lovers in the past had been built. It made the need for his cock even more heightened. 

Their hands coasted over the plains of each other’s chests, their muscled backs, caressing and being much more tender than you anticipated them to be. Then Cassian’s hand landed at the base of Azriel’s cock, and pumped once. Az’s eyes flashed open, wide and wild. His teeth bared, his shadows devoured him and he re appeared at your head, his cock dripping precome onto your cheek. A rope of shadow pulled your leg back, allowing Cassian easy access.

“Fuck her good Cass.” He growled, then sighed at the heat of your mouth around him. You moaned around it, taking him in deep and humming as Cassian’s blunt head pressed against your entrance. 

He was fire, and he was all consuming, setting flame to every part of you he touched. Pure lava coursed through your veins once he entered you. The first few inches were bliss, and he kept going, and going, sinking into you until you were sure there was no space left to fill. There was nowhere for him to go but he kept pressing, pulling out and nudging back in, slickening his length more with your own juices so he could push in farther. Your mind buzzed with satisfaction. 

“So fucking tight.” He breathed, sweat appearing at his brow. Azriel relieved your mouth and instead positioned himself to your side, summoning at pillow for your head so he no longer had to hold you in place. No, he had much more important things to do with his hands. He languished in his strokes, matching the easy pace that Cassian set. Whining, you reached for him but were denied. 

A warning growl sounded in your mind, the desperation there palpable. He was on the brink, and just from watching. You cursed under your breath, but didn’t push him to give you what you wanted.

You watched Cassian break you apart, separating your lips and pushing deep until he bottomed out, a pinching sensation radiating through you, only to be drowned away by the exquisite pleasure of being so full. 

He rested there for a moment, and Azriel pulled at his cock idly, keeping himself hard while he watched was not a problem, fuck he’d do better with a break so he wouldn’t finish before Cassian.. His balls had tightened to the point of pain, forcing him to choose cumming down your throat or calculating the distance between his bedroom and the shop he’d have to visit tomorrow to buy a contraceptive tea blend. That worked to cool him off.

He was not here for the destination, he reminded himself.. The journey of discovery was something that thankfully would take several, several tries. Over years. Centuries, he hoped.Centuries. His mind unraveled that. Getting to know Cassian on the level he’d always wanted to. Getting to have experiences like this for centuries. His chest filled with heat, a different kind than the one that fueled him to nearly cumming in his own hand. 

It still nearly happened, watching Cassian lick his thumb and circle it over your clit while he pulled out, and gently pushed back into you. Blinding pleasure chased every rub, every thrust, and you pushed away his hand after a few more. “So close already?” He smirked, satisfied with his work.

He glanced to Azriel, and hissed under his breath at the perfection of the male. “I can feel her tightened up, nice and close for me.” Cassian said with a snap of his hips forward. You garbled some plea and tugged on the shadow bound leg that Azriel commanded. With your other hooked around Cassian’s back, you could almost force him deeper, to give you the angel that would have you coming undone around him.

“You like his cock, honey? You can tell me.” Azriel hummed.

Guilt did not burden you at this simple, animalistic pleasure. Not when there were two other sources of ecstacy contributing to your heady need. You nodded fervently, allowing them both to see how you’d truly become engulfed by the pleasure they provided. 

“Good. That’s a good girl, taking him so well.” He bit his lower lip and groaned. “I can feel you, like a ghost. This bond will be the death of me.” Azriel’s cock wept heavily, coating him with slick precome that you wished he’d let you taste. But every time you feebly reached for him, he’d sway from your touch. 

Cassian’s cock surged inside you, pressing up just as he thrust inward. Your body responded with a clench of your pussy around his girth, and gasps and moans echoed through the room, and there were no more games with either of them.

Azriel’s shadow melted away, and his cock was in your mouth at the same moment. Cassian sucked a mark onto your breast, and with both legs free you were able to latch around him and arch into his thrusts, meeting him with every one. 

Salt tanged your tastebuds as Azriel fucked your mouth, his hand keeping you in time with Cassian’s pace. And gods with every one of Cassian’s long, delicious thrusts he ground down onto your clit, sending you barreling towards the edge you weren’t sure if you were ready to be thrown from yet. 

You pulled Cassian forward slightly with your legs, angling him better and - gods. Your eyes rolled, and wetness seemed to burst from your pussy from the way the sound of Cassian’s cock sliding from you changed. Your toes curled, your mind went blank. There was nothing but the muffled, desperate moaning and ragged breaths as the pleasure tore through you. It was violent, and had you writhing on the sheets with the intensity of it.

Your walls spasmed, a hot and intense orgasm ripping through you and leaving you unable to move other than the rhythmic sway of your hips, silently bargaining for more once the intensity died down. Thankfully, Azriel had enough experience with your post orgasm needs that he continued fucking your mouth.

“Fu-u-uck-” Cassian drew the word out, and his eyes squeezed shut. Azriel’s hand tightened in your hair, then he held you there, his cock shoved deep in the back of your throat as he came and came, a breathy mess of loud moaning. 

Cassian wasn’t more than a second behind, spilling into you with a roar that managed to rip through your post-orgasm bliss. The feel of him, of his cum filling you sent your body into a heated need for more. You pulled back from Azriel, his hands had been frozen in your hair even after he’d finished. You climbed to Cassian, fixing your hands upon his broad shoulders and pushing his cock even deeper as you climbed him.

He knew what you wanted. What you needed. He grinned, eyes wild. And though he still shook from his own orgasm, hauled you up and off the soaked bed with corded, trained muscles. He pushed you to a small section of undecorated wall, and pined you there with ease. 

“Greedy thing, aren’t you?” He rumbled, pulling your thighs high up his hips and fucking you hard and fast. Gods this was for you, all of him, and Azriel both -  for you and he was giving it his all- You could hardly think of how lucky you were with his cock nudging into that small place inside you with every brutal thrust.

He was muttering filthy things in your ear, getting you closer with every action. “Y’Just need to cum again, don’t even care how. Gods I can feel you-” He sighed, and his jaw ached with how badly he wished he could finish again, to have you quivering upon his cock as he came into you until you were both fully spent.

Azriel lay on the bed, watching and idly toying with himself, his cheeks flushed and shadows coasting over his thighs. His cock stood proudly, shining with your leftover saliva and his own pleasure. 

Cassian was not forgiving. He pounded into you ruthlessly, rattling the swords and artwork upon the wall. You curled into him, meeting his every thrust with arched eagerness that had you building to another quick, exhilarating finish that left you panting, clawing at his back. The intensity of this one had you shuddering, crumpling in his grasp, and he rode you through it, fucking into you with the same harshness as he had been.

Only when your teeth let the skin of his chest free did he relent with slower, softer rolls of his hips until he was sure you didn’t want more. Until he was sure he couldn’t make you finish again. He wanted to make you like this every hour, every minute of the day now that he’d had a taste. IT would be hard to do anything but this for his foreseeable future. To have you so in his grasp, so tangible now… he still only half believed this was real, and not a dream.

He decided that before he woke, if this really were a dream, he’d treat you right. Both you and Azriel. He lay you down next to Azriel, and pulled his cock free from you. A wash of his cum followed, soaking the bedding further. He stood back a moment, marveling at both his mates.

He would have to make sure to give Azriel more time during their next round. He’d been so consumed with you it had been hard to focus on anything but you and the encouraging words and feelings from Azriel.

The sight before him was his future, and all that mattered in it. His reason, his divine destiny from the Mother. He blinked the tears away before they could pour over.

Cassian joined his mates, avoiding the large wet spots on the bedding. “I hope to the Mother that these sheets actually get washed and not Glamoured…” He grumbled, eyeing the room around him. The house deposited a stack of books upon the end table a moment later. Cassian picked one up. 

“Mothering of the Fae and other Species of Prythian, by Lidia Knight.” He read the title aloud, then glared at the ceiling. Azriel looked over your blissful expression, to his new mate, and laughed.

[squirmhoney]

LIFE'S BETTER ON SATURN |

PART TWO

A/N: Sorry for the warnings but reader has been going through it since the last part. Also I read through this once, it was way too long to read through several times. Enjoy.

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader Warning: Dark Smut. Fingering. Oral. Pet names. Praise. Overstimulation. Submissive behaviour. Violence. Kidnapping. Drugging. Angst. Suicide attempt. Mentions of depressive thoughts. Non canon ages. 18+ Context: Timeline is based loosely on the "Batman: Under the Redhood" comic. However, characters are aged up. Jason and reader are 18+.

PART ONE HERE

As always Minors DNI.

-

Some days were better than others but you hadn’t had a truly low day for at least three years now. 

People grieve in different ways, that’s what you would say. However, every time you talked to Dick, which was an occasional call every month or so, he’d tell you it wasn’t healthy. You’re latching onto a ghost, I really think you should see a therapist. 

You’d always roll your eyes, making up the quickest excuse you could muster up. Normally it was the little money you had, how could you possibly afford therapy while working some shitty receptionist job at the Gotham City’s Police Department. 

Bruce would pay for it.

That name still made your whole body tense, bile rising up in your throat. You never had forgiven him, especially after bumping him into last year and being introduced to Tim Drake, clearly his next prodigy. 

After threatening to cut contact with Dick as well, he stopped nagging and allowed you to live your life. Even if he didn’t see it as a life worth living. 

Today was one of the more sombre days as you walked through the Gotham streets to get to work. 

The streets were too busy for comfort as people constantly bumped into you and you knew you shouldn’t have bothered to answer your phone but you hadn’t been thinking when you saw Dick’s name light up your screen. 

When a heavy shoulder crashed into yours, your phone had gone flying into the crowd of people. Only to find it crumpled on the floor in pieces within seconds. 

-

Once five o'clock rolled around, you had completely forgotten that Dick had called you this morning and that you had been meaning to call him back. The only thought in your mind was the leftovers you had in the fridge. 

When you stepped through your front door, you realised that the winter breeze had made its way through into your shabby one bedroom apartment. You were quick to turn the heating on before running over to close the window you had managed to leave open. 

That should have been your first sign. 

Unfortunately, out of all Bruce Wayne’s adoptive children, you had always been the last one to catch onto things. 

It was only when you reached your bedroom did you realise something wasn’t right. Your drawers were open and were completely emptied. But you tried to not let that alarm you, carrying on with your routine as usual as you walked back into the kitchen. 

Your pistol was in the kitchen, you thought to yourself as your feet dragged you there. 

In the darkness of your front room you couldn’t see him and you were glad that you hadn’t yet turned on all the lights. You had a chance. 

You were slow in opening the drawer next to the sink, trying to make it seem as seamless as possible. 

But then you could feel him behind you and you found yourself twisting around, gun aiming for the man in front of you. 

You had never seen this man before, the outfit he was wearing too expensive to be some random thug working for someone else. 

His attire was all black, military armour, almost how you remembered the other’s suits when you had last seen them. Then there was his mask, a crimson red, attached mechanically to the rest of his suit, some sort of technology you weren’t familiar with. 

Bullets were sure to be useless against him. They’d probably end up bouncing off, doing more damage to you than him. 

“Don’t come any closer,” you sternly said, trying not to seem as scared as you were. 

You were terrified, this man literally towered over you. The way he tilted his head, mocking you as you aimed the gun directly at his head. 

“I’m warning you,” your voice was shaky, hands trembling as you clutched onto the pistol. 

“I bet you wished you had learnt a bit of self defence,” the robotic voice said, taking a step closer to you. 

“I don’t need it.” You eyed him from head to toe, hoping to see a weak point in his armour, anything to help you out. 

“You and I both know bullets aren’t going to do anything,” He took a step closer, the gun pressing against his chest. 

You were trembling, eyes brimmed with tears as you tried to hold it together. “I won’t go with you,” you spat at him. 

“You don’t have a choice,” he closed the distance between you now, gloved hands covering yours. 

“We always have a choice,” your voice croaked, a sob lodged at the back of your throat as you flipped the gun, holding it against your chest. 

“Y/N,” he demanded, hands moving against yours. 

“I won’t go,” you cried out, finger moving over the trigger. 

But it was too late, the man had swiftly aimed the gun away from you, the bullet flying into the wall. He pried the gun out of your hand then, throwing it across the room and into the darkness. 

You crumbled then, sliding against the cabinets behind you into a heap on the floor. 

“Are you crazy?” The man questioned. 

He wasn’t as close as he was before you realised and before you knew it, you found yourself scrambling for the door. 

But as your hand reached for your door, an arm wrapped around your waist while a cloth was placed over your face. You inhaled what must have been chloroform, leaving you unconscious in seconds. 

Death would have been better than this, you thought. Anything but this. 

-

You awoke wrapped in silk sheets, head fuzzy still from the drugs you had inhaled and eyes taking their time to fully open. 

It took a little while to remember what had happened, your groggy mind going over the details as you fought to lift your body from the sheets. Once the drugs wore off a bit more, you found yourself scrambling around to find some sort of light source in this dark room, knocking things over in the process. 

“There’s a switch to the right side of the bed,” a voice called out from another room. 

For a moment you froze, before your hand slid against the wall beside you, finding what you had been looking for. 

You blinked at the brightness, taking a moment to adjust before you looked around the room. It wasn’t at all how you expected. Beige walls and duvet set you were draped in to match. An oak bookshelf opposite the bed and a pair of cream bedside tables to either side of you. 

It was almost homely and it made you hesitant to move. 

“It took you a while to wake up,” the voice was back again, coming closer now. “I thought you’d wake up on the journey at least.” 

You didn’t know what to do, searching around the room for something to use as a weapon. 

“I was honestly a bit worried about you there.” 

He walked into the room still dressed head to toe in that suit of his and you were still defenceless as you sat in the middle of what you imagined was his bed.

“You haven’t been out that long. We’ve only been here ten minutes.” 

He didn’t even walk over to you, passing the bed and walking through another door to the side, out of sight. 

At the bottom of the bed was an oversized t-shirt and what looked to be a pair of your pyjama shorts laid out. 

“Are these clothes supposed to be for me?” You asked, your mind struggling to wrap around what was going on. 

“I thought you’d want to change into something a bit more comfortable when you woke up,” his voice was different when he spoke now and you were sure he had taken off his mask. 

You wanted to say you almost recognised it. 

Your fingers touched the material of the t-shirt that clearly belonged to the stranger, realising there was no harm in changing into it. You were probably feeding into some sort of sick fantasy but if it kept you safe, then you’d play into it.

“Why have you brought me here?” You asked. 

“Where did you expect I’d take you?” He retorted.

“A warehouse or something,” you replied. 

“You’ve listened to too many of Dick’s stories.” 

It hit you then, there was no denying it. You could literally feel your heart thudding in your chest as you turned the corner, reaching to where the man was standing. 

You couldn’t even look up, eyes taking in the purple and blue bruises that littered his back and rib cage. His face was ducked down towards the sink, covered by his hands as he seemed to be washing his face. 

But you didn’t need to see his face to know who it was. 

“Jay.” 

You felt like the air had been knocked out of your lungs, struggling to breathe as your hand reached out to him. But then you felt yourself stumble backwards, hand clutching at your chest. 

“It can’t be,” you said to yourself, eyes closing as you pushed out the thought. 

He was dead. He wasn’t coming back. 

“No, no, no...” You repeated, gasping for air at this point. 

“Y/N,” he pleaded with you and you felt his hand grab yours as he placed it against his chest. “Open your eyes.” 

“No,” You cried. 

“It’s me, Y/N,” his tone was almost as distraught as yours. “Look at me.” 

You did. 

He shared the same dark hair and teal eyes as your Jason. The same chiselled features and sharp nose. He’d lost the roundness of his cheeks, completely dropping the baby weight his body used to hold onto. Then there were the bags underneath his beautiful eyes, showing the tiredness that time had done to him. 

But it still wasn’t fully registering as you took him in. 

“Breathe,” he demanded of you, pressing his free hand against your chest. 

You let in harsh breaths, forcing yourself to calm down as you realised it was him. 

“Breathe.” 

-

You sat on different ends of his couch, unable to stop staring at each other. 

A part of you wanted to touch him, to reassure yourself that the man across from you was Jason. While another part was still trying to register it all. 

He explained everything from that terrible night he had never returned home to you, to the Joker beating him to death, then to the lazarus pit. Then there was the time after that, unsure of who he was or where he was, wondering about different countries he couldn’t even name. His memory wasn’t all there for the first two years but it eventually came back, along with you. 

“Why didn’t you just take your mask off when you came to my apartment?” You asked, feeling more relaxed now. 

“It’s been years,” Jason reminded you. “I didn’t know how you’d react.” 

“I think it would have been better than me trying to kill myself,” you told him. 

He hummed in agreement at this. “It’s just lucky that you don’t have a boyfriend.” 

“Lucky for who?” Your voice was teasing. 

“For the potential boyfriend,” his lips turned up into a smile at this. “God knows what I would have done to him.” 

There was silence between you as you both stared at each other, unable to find the words to say. You didn’t really have anything left to say, no not really. What you really wanted to do was touch him. To feel his skin against yours until your mind became certain that he was real. 

It’s as if he knew, hand grabbing your leg to yank you towards him as he said, “Come here.” 

Then he was on top of you, arms caging you in as his head rested against yours. 

“Touch me,” he wasn’t begging you, he was commanding, a darkness laced in his tone that you had never heard before. 

“Where?” You gulped, hands fumbling beside you. 

“It’s like you’ve never touched me before,” he chuckled, into your lips. 

“Ja-” his name was lost on a kiss, the breath being stolen from your lungs as he took over your senses. 

You were eager to kiss him back, hands tugging him further down as they wrapped behind his neck. 

There was a sense of urgency between you both, your hands keeping him tied to you while his hands snaked their way under the t-shirt, hissing when he finally got to feel your bare skin. He was quick to strip it from your body, craving to see all the parts of you he had missed so dearly. 

His lips were on you in an instance, leaving a wet trail from your neck as he sucked and nibbled all the way down to your chest. He was desperate to leave his mark in shades of purple and red across your skin, finding his chest ease at the sight of you covered in him. 

He had been obsessive before but never like this. There was a guttural need to claim you now. To know that you were still his as much as he was yours. 

He hadn’t even realised how far down he got, face resting against your lower stomach. But once he realised, there was a different need he had, one that was desperate to please you. 

That was when he found himself swiftly wrapping your plush thighs around his shoulders, letting his thoughts take over. 

You weren’t sure on how you felt about this, you felt like the pair of you were going too fast. You hadn’t seen each other in five years and in a few hours of being together, you were already wrapped up in each other’s limbs. 

Those thoughts were soon buried when you felt his fingers slide against your clothed pussy, wriggling from the unexpected touch. 

“Hold still,” he growled at you. 

But you felt his words on your core, his hot breath fanning against the sensitive skin of your thighs, making it harder for you to not move. 

“I fucking missed this,” he whispered, nose nudging against your clit. He couldn’t help but take a sniff before licking a long stripe across the material. 

It was amusing how squeamish you were, he couldn’t even deny how much it was feeding into his ego. Even years after him being gone you were still wrapped around his finger as much as he was wrapped around yours. 

When his fingers finally slid underneath your pyjama shorts, he almost lost it, being instantly met with your soaked lips. 

“Tell me I’m the only one that can get you wet like this,” he demanded, sliding one finger across your folds. “Tell me.” 

“You’re the only one that gets me wet like this, Jay,” you swore, looking down at him with pleading wet eyes. 

“No one better not have touched this pussy.” 

His eyes changed at the thought, growing darker, cold as he narrowed them at you. 

It almost scared you. 

“No one, Jay.” 

His face softened at that, fingers sinking into the place you needed him most. You couldn’t help it when you squirmed this time, his thick fingers stretching you out. 

He didn’t seem to care though, too focused on how your spongy walls felt around his fingers. Too busy imagining how it would feel around his cock later. 

“You’re so tight,” he commented, entranced in the way your walls squeezed him, basically pushing him out. It was all the confirmation he needed, and at the realisation, his body relaxed. Not all the way of course, not when his fingers were being soaked by your cunt.

You whined at him when his fingers slid out of your cunt, craning your neck awkwardly to try and see what he was doing. But he was swift in his movements, ripping your shorts down until you were bare before him. 

Without warning his mouth was on you, tongue dragging lazy circles into your clit, moaning at the taste of your juices. But he didn’t stop there, his fingers returning to their original position as they slipped into your walls, curling in and out of you as he turned you into a pathetic mess. 

Your mind was reeling at this, not even sure of the noises that were being torn from your throat as his fingers set a brutal pace. All you were sure about was the burning sensation at the bottom of your stomach, growing with each flick of his tongue and push of his fingers. 

He lifted himself from you, mouth detached from your cunt as he watched your form, hips bucking up to reach his face. The way he titled his head, eyebrows raising at you, told you he clearly wasn’t impressed. 

He showed you how unimpressed he was, the palm of his hands slapping against your clit. 

You squealed at the harsh touch, eyes widening at him. 

“Didn’t I tell you to stay still,” he reminded you.

“I’m sorry, Jay,” you told him, although you weren’t sure he was listening. 

His eyes continued to glare at you, nose flaring ever so slightly as if he was contemplating what he was going to do with you. Then his fingers sped up, pounding themselves inside of you as if trying to see how you would react.

But you were desperate to obey him, grounding your hips into the couch underneath you to keep yourself still. 

“Good girl,” Jason cooed, sinking back down again.

He didn’t waste any time, lips wrapping around your clit, sucking at until he could hear your words slurring together as you repeated his name. You were close, he could tell by the way your walls were sucking him in now, thighs squeezing around his head a bit tighter. 

“I forgot how good you taste,” he slurped, breathing harshly through his nose.

You think it was his words that sent you over the edge, the sound of his hoarse voice as he lapped at your pussy. You couldn’t even help but tug on his hair when you finally came, your other hand clawing at the couch underneath you. 

You were shaking from the orgasm he was giving you, your whole body feeling the spasms of pleasure he was pushing you through. When it finally washed over you, your moaning turns into sobs and you can’t help but struggle for breath again. 

Jason was there though, lips pressing against your cheeks and your eyes, hands rubbing up and down your sides as he made you feel safe. 

“I’m here,” His voice is reassuring in your ear. 

Your eyes flutter open to see his face, chest easing at the sight as you deeply inhale. 

“I made a promise, didn’t I?” He asked, reminding you of all those years ago. 

You nodded. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” he swore once again. 

“I need you,” you pleaded with him, hands moving on their own accord as they trailed down his chest. “Really need you, Jay.” 

He stopped your hands once they reached his belly button, not giving you the chance to touch him as he shook his head. 

You pouted your lips at him. “I want to help you, Jay.” 

“Later,” he told you, his hand slipping in his boxers. “I need to be inside you.” 

All you could was watch him, eyes wide as you waited for him to release himself from his boxers. You hadn’t forgotten what he looked like but the sight of his cock still took you by surprise when it was out in the open. 

You swore he was thicker than you remembered, maybe slightly longer too. He looked painfully hard as he stroked himself, veins popping out along his length and a thick string of pre cum leaking from the tip. 

When he finally reached between your thighs, lining himself up with your entrance, you were more than ready for him. It was clear in your shaky breaths as his tip slid across your folds and the way your legs quivered when his tip finally nudged against your entrance. 

Jason’s resolve was crumbling more than yours, he knew it was but he was just better at hiding it. But there was no hiding the hiss that left his lips when he finally entered your walls, fighting against the resistance from how tight you were, forcing himself in. He knew it must be painful for you especially when he noticed you were grinding on your teeth to keep it in. 

“It’s okay,” you told him, hand cupping his cheek before wrapping behind his neck to pull him down. “I’m okay.” 

You both laid like that for a while, his body hovering over yours as you relaxed your body to get used to him. He rocked his hips back and forth a few times, slowly testing the waters and keeping his focus solely on your face to keep some sort of self control. It wasn’t till you were nodding, wrapping your legs around him, did he finally take it further. 

Years may have passed since you had been like this with each other but your bodies clearly hadn’t forgotten. 

Jason showed you that as his hands wandered and his hips picked up their pace. Instantly they found a home on your chest, squeezing your breasts as they bounced.

Jason found himself entranced with the sight, ducking his head downwards to wrap his lips around one of your nipples. While his mouth sucked against one, tongue licking over the sensitive bud, his fingers teased the other, pinching it gently. 

It was muscle memory to Jason and you felt like he was playing you like an instrument, sharply gasping for air at the sensation. You wanted to tell him how good he was making you feel but you weren’t even sure where to begin as the words became scrambled in your mind. 

You were sure he knew when he lifted himself from your chest, resting his head against yours and giving you the softest of kisses. 

Your walls were finally greedily sucking him in, clinging to him like your life depended on it. You could tell it was affecting him as much as it was affecting you, clenching his jaw after he delivered a particularly harsh thrust. 

A certain look came across his face after this, one you had seen before but it was different. His eyes were darker when they looked at you, the pupils completely blown out and there was no amusement laced on his face as his hand dove between your thighs. 

You mewled when you felt his forefinger against your clit, hand grasping at his arm at the suddenness of it. It was shock that took over you as you tried to push him away, eventually settling for grasping onto his arm as he quickened his pace. 

It was too much, his cock bullying your cunt, making you feel fuller than you ever have before. Then his hands nestled in between you, fingers working on your bundle of nerves as if it was some sort of toy to him. You let out a noise that is unholy, feeling yourself teetering towards that edge again. 

But you couldn’t help but try and wriggle free, tears soaking your cheeks at how overstimulated you were feeling. 

It clearly didn’t go unnoticed by Jason and with one hand he’s bruising your hips, holding you in place so he can keep going. 

“Nuh-uh,” he tutted, fingers digging into your side to get your attention. “Don’t you dare fucking move. Understand?” 

You nodded only to whimper pathetically seconds later as you felt your whole body tensing underneath him. 

Jason knew what was happening and on queue he slid out of you, letting his hands do all the work. With each harsh rub of his fingers on your clit, you were gushing onto the couch and squirting over his stomach. 

He was mesmerised by it but most of all he was mesmerised by your fucked out expression. Eyes sinking into the back of your skull, mouth strung open as you screamed his name. Only his name. 

Then he was shoving himself in your walls again, not even giving you a second to recover from your high. Only groaning at the feel of your wet spongy walls enveloping his cock, dripping down onto his balls as they smacked against your skin. 

His body was pressed against yours again, the weight of him holding you down so his free hand could move cup the side of your face. You could feel the wetness on his hands as his thumb flicked against your lips.

“Eyes on me,” his voice was low and sultry as it reached your ears, a deep grumble at the back of his throat threatening to spill. 

You listened, gazing up at him through the thick tears that spilled from your eyes. 

“Good girl,” his toothy grin poked out, rubbing his hand against your cheek in a soothing way. “You’re doing so good for me. Being such a good girl for me.” 

You hummed in appreciation, looking up at him with pure desperation. 

You didn’t care that your body was spent, tired from the way he was thrusting in and out of his walls. Or even the fact that he was basically using your body at this point, enjoying the way you were writhing beneath him. 

You wanted anything he could give you, you wanted all of it. Even if you left you completely numb at the end of the night. 

“I love you,” your voice was barely above a whisper and you were unsure if Jason even heard you. 

“What did you say?” He questioned, eyes widening and eyebrows raised. 

“I-Fuck,” you struggled, finger nails digging into the skin of his bicep as you tried to ground yourself. “I-I love you.” 

“Say it again,” he panted, eyes softening suddenly. His pace was still harsh, hips only rutting faster at the confession. 

“I love you,” you told him again. “I love you.” 

It was all he needed, mind completely reeling as he came inside your walls. He was a mess, riding out his high until he was completely empty. Once he was done, he didn’t even bother to move, keeping himself buried inside your walls.

You couldn’t help but admire him as collapsed on top of you, trying to regain his composure as his head dropped to your chest. He looked beautiful, a thin sheen of sweat coating his skin, chest heaving up and down. 

Your limbs are tangled, unable to move as you both try to regain your breath. But then he’s lifting his head up to get a better look at you. 

“I don’t remember it ever being like that,”  he confessed, fingers tickling your sides. “Do you?” 

“We were teenagers,” you told him, fingers coming up to graze his head. “We also hadn’t been separated for five years.” 

“Is it bad that I want to do it all over again?” He asked, head lifting from your chest as he captured your lips in a bruising kiss. 

Your hands pushed against his chest, giving you space to breathe. “I think that Lazarus pit has given you more strength than I can handle.” 

He’s grinning against, this one’s almost child-like, reminding you of how he used to be. “I’ll let you rest for a bit before we go again.” 

“That sounds perfect, Jay.” 

You kissed him again, something that was only meant to be as a peck but instantly turned into something hot and heavy as he nibbled at your bottom lip.

It was you that had to pull away, lips curving up into a knowing smile. 

“This is going to be harder than I thought,” Jason groaned, finally lifting himself up, letting you see exactly what he was talking about.

[gojhoes]

Flesh Wound

summary: Yuta shows up to his new school with a single goal in mind: stay under the radar. Only he lands in the direct path of the school's outcast- you, with your hemp cigarettes and permanent scowl. An unlikely friendship, dark pasts, and sweet nothings.

warnings: mature topics, TRIGGER WARNING: dissociation, description of self-harm, suicide pairings : yuta x fem!reader (as teenagers and adults) contents: slow burn, hurt/comfort, time jumps, no curse au, not canon, reader has piercings/tattoos/dyed hair (mentioned), aged-up in next part wc: ~7k

“You’re in my seat.”

So much for laying low, Yuta thinks, which he has been successful in accomplishing up until this moment. He raises his head to see your steely gaze threatening to tear him to pieces and his mouth goes dry. He's too startled to get a proper look at you, but he immediately notices your septum piercing and the dark kohl lining your eyes.

“Oh, sorry!” he says lamely. He scrambles clumsily to his feet and resultantly knocks his binder to the floor. You're staring daggers at him as you lower yourself into your unassigned-assigned seat, and he bends to retrieve the fallen binder with shaking hands.

The desks in the classroom are arranged in pairs, most of which were already filled by a body or a backpack when Yuta walked in several minutes ago. Upon a quick survey, he sees that the only remaining option is the desk to your left, and something tells him there's a reason why it otherwise sits empty. He smiles at you nervously in hopes to dull the tension, but you've already looked away to pull a pair of headphones and a book from your dark green tote bag.

It's his third attempt at his first day of upper secondary school, and Yuta has already decided that there will not be a fourth. In his head, he'll joke that three schools in six months is probably some kind of record, but the reality is that it's embarrassing. His introversion and awkward nature already make socializing difficult for him, so his new plan to avoid it altogether. The two vices have only increased in intensity since leaving primary school, but he's grown accustomed to being alone.

It's normal to him, to lay awake into the early hours of the morning as the knife of loneliness cuts through him and twists savagely. It's normal, he thinks, to daydream about having tons of friends who sling their arms around his shoulders at parties as they hand him a red cup made of plastic. Everyone eats their lunch by themselves outside on the sidewalk...every day. Even if he is aware of the truth deep down, it's much easier to cloud his conscious mind and live as though he's not really there. As though he is an observer of his own body, watching the movie that is his life from above.

But you looked right at him and ripped him from that daydream he so desperately clings to without awareness. Before he can put his head down and lull himself back to safety, the tardy bell rings, and the cacophony of students' conversations quiets as the teacher commences roll call.

Yuta is painfully aware of when she goes straight from Ogawa to Ryu, skipping right over his own last name. His pulse jumps- he knows what's coming, and regardless of how many schools he's been in and out of, he always hates this part. No one really cares to know him, but he obliges to limit the awkwardness and speed up the exchange.

"Please welcome your newest classmate," the teacher says, gesturing toward him with a smile. "Yuta Okkotsu, stand up, please."

But he's already standing, so he waves awkwardly as every head in the classroom turns in his direction. Except for you, whose eyes remain trained directly on the book in your hands, and Yuta swears he hears you tsk under your breath. "Please call me Yuta."

There is a unified murmur of empty welcomes and the teacher allows him to retake his seat. Yuta eyes dart around the room, doing everything he can to avoid pissing you off further. He catches sight of the perfectly painted black polish on your nails and pauses at a nasty looking scar stretching across your knuckles. Otherwise perfect hands marred by silvery tissue knitted over bone. You catch him trying to read the title printed on the cover of your book and you scowl, placing your tote on top of the table to block his view.

Yuta sighs as he opens his binder. He wonders briefly if the next six months will be like this, every day spent a few inches away from someone who despises him. It's not his fault if there aren't any other open desks, but somehow guilt riddles him anyway.

The next several hours pass without incident, and Yuta is shocked to see that you've done nothing but read for the entire class. The teacher seems to ignore you largely, even skipping over you when she goes around the room with handouts. You've said nothing more to him, so Yuta adopts the attitude that everyone else seemingly exhibits toward you.

There's a tap on his shoulder, startling him, and Yuta flinches as he turns around to glimpse the assailant.

"Sorry," says a boy with pinkish dyed hair. "Do you have a pencil I can borrow?"

Yuta waits for the jests and laughter to follow, but it doesn't come. The boy holds his stare until Yuta realizes he isn't being cheeky, and stutters out a reply. "Yeah, hold on."

It's already a few minutes before lunch and this guy is just now asking for a pencil?, Yuta thinks to himself. But he doesn't voice the thought, only twisting to hold out the utensil as the boy smiles. "Thanks, uh..Yuki?"

"Yuta," he corrects gently. The boy laughs nervously as he rubs the back of his neck.

"Right, sorry. I'm Yuji, just so you know. Thanks for the pencil."

Yuta nods, but as he turns around he struggles not to cringe visibly. Everything about the exchange makes him want to crawl into a hole and die. He curses himself for the ineptitude of his social skills as the teacher wraps up the rest of her lesson.

The second that everyone is dismissed for their lunch break, you're on your feet and tearing out of the room without a word. You are distractingly strange, from the piercing in your nose to the odd scar painting your hand. As he pulls last night's leftovers of kimchi stir-fry from his bag, Yuta's wondering where you've gone in such a desperate hurry. He doesn't notice Yuji standing beside him until the other boy drops something on his desk unceremoniously.

"Here," Yuji says cheerfully. "For giving me your pencil."

Yuta pauses to take in the packaged sweet bun that now graciously sits before him. He looks up at his classmate as though the kid is God himself.

Yuji gestures at the seat beside him. "She's scary, right?" he says. "I'm surprised she let you sit with her."

Yuta lets out a breathy nervous laugh. "Yeah, I don't think she likes me very much."

Yuji's leans in, straight-faced as he holds eye intense contact with Yuta. "Nah, she doesn't talk, like, ever. Ever ever."

There is an uncomfortable pause until Yuji suddenly pulls back and smiles. "You seem like a cool guy, so don't let someone like her get your mind twisted. Where are you from?"

Yuta decides he likes this Yuji kid very quickly. Since the seat next to him is yours, Yuji stays upright to chat while Yuta picks at his lunch. Before he knows it, Yuta has spent the entire break period talking (mostly listening), until the bell rings and snaps him out of the conversation. His heart is pounding, but he can't deny that it was a nice chat.

You, on the other hand, slide back into your seat two seconds before the tardy bell goes off. He considers asking you where you went, but his thoughts get interrupted when he sees you pull a pen and an actual notebook out of your bag. The lesson after lunch is biology, which is one that Yuta doesn't care much about, but you seem to be perking right up as you date a blank page.

The end of the day arrives at last, but the teacher has apparently decided that the torture of an eight-hour span of learning is not enough. Before dismissing the class, she announces a quarter-long group project that "is to be completed with your tablemate".

Yuta feels like he's been dipped in acid the way his body tenses uncomfortably. Anxiety deprives his mind of words, but fuck, he has to ask you because it's worth 30% percent of his final grade. And he's trying to be a better student, a better person, blah blah blah. So he follows you as you sprint out the door, unwilling to back down.

He opens his mouth to call out your name only to realize that he doesn't know it. You had given no introduction, not acknowledging him or anyone else the entire day. In the haze of his desperation, Yuta thrusts his hand out and wraps his hand tightly around your forearm.

You flinch and gasp loudly as you whirl around to face him, eyes wide with panic. Upon realizing it was him, your shock turns to irritation with a nasty scowl. "What?" you snap. "What the fuck, let me go!"

He loosens his grip and drops his arm to by his side, highly aware that you just screamed "let me go" at him in a crowded hallway. However, no one seems to be paying attention to either one of you in their hurry to escape.

"Don't run," he says firmly.

You're gripping where he'd grabbed you with your other hand. "That fucking hurt, you asshole."

He ignores you, even if he does feel a little bad for grabbing you as hard as he did. "We need to figure out our project stuff."

You laugh, sharp and humorless laugh right in his face. "I'm not doing that shit."

It's not often that Yuta gets angry, but he can't help but to feel irritated by your flighty attitude. He had come to this school for a fresh start with a plan to do well and keep to himself. He, of all people, understands the hatred of group projects, but you still have to do them. He wants to argue with you and remind you that it's not just your grade at stake, but he knows that it's useless. You're already halfway down the hall, and he knows that you aren't going to look back. *** Yuta walks into the classroom with a set jaw and squared shoulders. There are exactly two days left until the deadline to submit the first draft of the project. True to your word, you have contributed absolutely nothing and have not offered to help once. And Yuta can't stop putting it off any chance he gets because at heart, he is a procrastinator, and it's complete bullshit that you get to blow it off without consequence.

So, he is on a mission, channeling every ounce of confidence that he's capable of producing. He's crafted his approach very diligently; he's going to demand that you participate in this project. No stuttering, no softness, no taking "no" for an answer. The shred of confidence he's got holds true as you walk through the door with your head already buried in a book.

You're late, as usual, and Yuta finds himself wondering how you haven't been kicked out of the school with your observably poor attendance record. He's come into this expecting to be shot down, or for you to yell at him or maybe slap him with one of your hardcover novels. He does not expect the simple and submissive "okay" that escapes your parted lips.

Yuta blinks at you. "Okay?"

You shrug, closing your book after marking your place with a sticky note. You're looking at him head-on with no trace of evidence that you might be messing with him. "If I say no, you'll probably cry, and I don't want that on my conscience."

A part of him screams that he should argue against such a statement, but the surprise at your cooperation overshadows the usual bite of your disrespect. Yuta relaxes visibly as he launches into phase two of his mission: organizing the project.

He explains, "Well, the first draft is due in two days, so we should work on it as soon as possible," noticing how you frown at the end of his sentence. "What?"

"You haven't even started?" you say dubiously, drawing your brows together.

Yuta's jaw drops. How are you going to turn this around on him when you insisted you weren't going to help in the first place? But as usual, he holds his tongue and replaces the quip with the first words that come to mind. "Well, I- I've been busy and I'm not good at science-"

As is typical of you, you interrupt him mid-sentence once again. "One: you're a terrible partner, and two: how can you be bad at science? Literally all you have to do is read." You sigh sharply and pinch the bridge of your nose. "It seems you really do need my help."

If tolerating your backward insults was what he had to do to get you to help, then so be it. Your jests were something he was growing used to, anyway.

"When should I come over then?" you ask nonchalantly.

A normal teenaged boy would be doing somersaults at the prospect of having a girl ask to go to his house, but Yuta can only feel his anxiety soar as he grimaces. Every millisecond seems to last a full minute as he tries to think of answer. He hadn't thought about the fact that he was going to have to see you outside of school.

You can't come to his house, not with the state of it right now. Yuta would rather die than you lay eyes on his place. The lamest excuse tumbles out of his mouth. "Oh, my mom doesn't let me have-"

"God, fine," you groan, rolling your eyes. "You can just come to my house after school, I guess."

Yuta blanches. "Today?"

You glare at him, and he raises his hands defensively.

"You said "as soon as possible"," you spit matter-of-factly.

"No, no, it's fine," he says quickly. "Thank you."

He's never been to a girl's house before under any circumstances. He's nervous, no- he's terrified to be alone with you.

"Don't think this means I like you," you say as you jab your finger at him.

Yuta shakes his head insistently as if to prove just how much he understands. *** The rest of the day drags on, and by the time the dismissal bell rings, Yuta's nails are nothing but bitten-down stumps. He is so nervous that he's sure there will be sweat stains when he takes his uniform off later. He has a mental image of a bedroom with black-painted walls and a spiked coffin in place of a bed.

The walk to your house is short and painfully quiet. You move surprisingly fast, as though as you can't stand to slow down in fear of wasting time. And he's disappointed by the quaint house that you approach with your keys in hand. He'd half-expected a vampire's den, but the place is nothing of the sort. There's a lawn statue designed to look like a cat sitting by the front door. There are several large pothos plants hanging from the spandrels, lush and bright green- clearly well taken care of.

"My mom gets home at 8:30, so we have a few hours," you say as you turn to unlock the front door. "Want a snack or anything?"

The offer is kind and so uncharacteristic of you that it takes him aback slightly. He declines, silently trailing behind as you lead him into the kitchen.

Something soft brushes at his ankles and he glances down to see an orange cat head-butting him. Yuta smiles and bends to rub its ears as it purrs against his hand.

"That's Momo," you say. "She's super friendly." The cat rushes to your side when you say its name and you scoop it up easily with one hand. You're not smiling, but there is a softening of your gaze as you scratch behind Momo's ears, who has their eyes closed purring contentedly.

"Want to give her a treat?" you ask. "She'll love you forever."

Yuta grins. "Hit me." And you're handing him a blue tube with pinkish gel creeping out the open end. Momo goes ballistic, springing out of your arms and racing over to Yuta's ankles once again. He bends down to give it to her, laughing at the zeal with which she devours the treat.

He glances up to see you smiling a little, and it's shocking. "Churu's her favorite."

"I can tell."

You snort. "Let's go up."

Yuta follows with Momo on his heels as you ascend to the upper level. The anxiety has really settled in as he realizes he's about to be alone with a girl in her room.

He sheds the backpack hanging from his shoulders and retrieves his binder in search of the incomplete project outline. Your desk is impeccably organized and Yuta notices a pair of succulents on top. The single window in the room sits behind the desk, overlooking the street below.

"You can take the mushroom," you point to an impossibly tiny mushroom-shaped stool in the corner. Yuta doesn't dare risk facing your wrath by declining, so he drags it over to your desk and settles himself down awkwardly.

"So, I was thinking we do a visual," Yuta starts.

You hum, peering over his scarce notes with your brows drawn in concentration. "Sure."

Yuta has spent every day of the last two weeks sitting a couple of inches to your right, but it feels very different doing so in your room. You're still wearing your school clothes, but your hair is clipped back and strands of it fall into your face as you write down ideas. The light here is different, and he sees you from other angles. More than once, he finds his gaze straying to the exposed flesh of your thighs spreading across your desk chair.

It's a lot of back and forth, but eventually the outline looks decent enough that Yuta is satisfied. He's writing out the remaining formulas, feeling burnt out as he tries to recall the specific elements. A quick glance at his phone tells him that it's 8:02PM, meaning you've been at it for nearly three hours.

"Ugh, give me that." You reach to yank the pencil from his grasp, fingers lingering on his as you frown. "Why are you wearing a ring?" you ask.

Yuta glances at the silver band around his finger which has been there so long it may as well have been part of his body. It feels strange for you to be touching his hand, so he drops the pen and lays it flat on top of his thigh.

"It was a gift," he replies with a tone that welcomes no further questions. You're surprised by the hardness of his voice, only nodding as you hold the pencil properly to write. Yuta thinks that perhaps, one day he will tell you, but it's not a story he wishes to recall in any sort of detail. You're quick to change the subject, asking him to read off the measurements so you can fill them in. It seems that you're apt for reading the moods of others, so much so that Yuta sends you his silent appreciation. *** The weekend comes and goes all too quickly, and before he knows it, it's Tuesday again, and up in your room, you're arguing with Yuta about which colors to use in your project.

"Warm colors are not scientific," you insist. "Our project is biology, so it should be green. Life equals green, or whatever."

"Why do you suddenly care so much about the quality of your work?" Yuta shoots back. He's not angry, the argument being more so teasing than real. But he's learned recently that he kind of enjoys seeing you get riled up, so when you first expressed your discontent with his color choice, he decided to hang back and see where the altercation would go.

You sigh sharply and squeeze your eyes shut for a second. When you open them, you reach into your desk drawer and pull out something he can't see, because you've already shoved it into your pocket.

"I need a break," you say. "Let's go."

You're walking out of your bedroom with intention in your every movement. Yuta follows, letting you lead him through the house, then outside behind a garden shed. He's sandwiched between two feet of space between it and the tall wooden fence surrounding your home. You stand just before him, thrusting your hand into your pocket to pull out... a pack of cigarettes?!

"Come on, it's just CBD," you say, rolling your eyes at Yuta's stunned expression. "My mom knows a lady who rolls them by hand."

As if that makes it any better. There's a lighter in your other hand as you slip a cigarette between your lips. Expertly, you hold it over the small flame and take the first drag.

"What does you mom do?" Yuta asks. Neither of you have talked much about your families, but the way you speak about your mom makes him curious.

You exhale, and smoke billows around him. "She's a ballet instructor."

"Oh."

You're puffing on the cigarette as though it's natural to you. He watches the way you drag on it, counts out how long it takes, and he likes the way you blow the smoke out through your teeth. It's captivating, and he feels for a moment that he might be in a movie.

"Oh, sorry," you say, holding it out to him. "Did you want some?"

Yuta slips the cigarette between his index and middle fingers, observing it as he contemplates whether to try it. He raises his eyebrows at you before bringing it to his lips. "You're sure this is CBD?"

You nod. "Scout's honor."

So, he takes a drag, trying to copy your exact motions down to the exhale. He coughs a little, but aside from a smoky flavor on his tongue, there is no noticeable difference.

"Do you like it?"

Yuta shrugs and passes it back. "I don't really feel anything."

You roll your eyes and scoff at him. "You need to have more than one hit, dummy. It's not supposed to feel like much of anything."

He doesn't understand your logic (he rarely does), but he watches as you finish it off, flicking ashes into a small hole dug into the dirt under the shed.

*** "How do you get away with your nose ring?" Yuta asks.

He's sitting at your desk with his hands hovering over his laptop keyboard, halfway facing it while also trying to look at you over on the bed. Summer has come more quickly than anticipated and with it, the project's deadline is fast approaching. It's the weekend, but you called an emergency study session to start working out the fine details of the presentation.

"I get away with a lot," you reply. "My mom works for the school board so I'm basically invincible."

Yuta is pretty sure that he has finally met someone more emo than he is. Despite the leveling out of his relationship with you, you still give the entire school the cold shoulder, and aside from the project, the rest of your work remains untouched. You're reading manga in class now, having replaced your giant hardcovers with smaller volumes. Yuta doesn't know you well enough to know that you only read manga when you're doing poorly.

You take it to a whole other level, though, with all your frowning and the dark clothing. But today is different. You're on the bed lying on your stomach, wearing a blue tank top with your hair pulled back, kicking your feet while propping your chin on curled hands. You're more talkative than usual, and you seem relaxed as a warm breeze musses up your bangs.

"I did them myself," you say after a few moments. "All you need is a sewing needle and some rubbing alcohol."

You can google this, but when some people are depressed, their pain tolerance increases. Some meds can affect it too."

Yuta could only stare. "Right."

You always seemed to know so much about medicine and the body. Despite the lack of work ethic you exuded, you seemed really into the anatomy chapter in class. Since he'd started spending more time with you, he'd learned that you had a true affinity for science. You liked knowing how things work, how A relates to B so you could understand it better.

"Would you do one for me?" he asks.

You visibly hesitate, but your expression is a concerned one. "Are you sure? It hurts like a motherfucker, Yuta."

He nods. "Yeah, I think I want my left ear. Stop looking at me like that."

Your giggles fill the room, and it's the sweetest sound ever to grace his ears even if it's at his expense. "I'm tougher than I look," he says indignantly, smiling widely.

The work has been abandoned. You scramble from atop the covers and quickly murmur your destination before bouncing out of the room. You return a minute later with a sewing box, a red wash rag, and a bottle of rubbing alcohol.

"Come to the bed," you instruct him. He does, accidentally disturbing a napping Momo when he lowers himself down. You set the sewing box and rag down on the desk right on top of the script the two of you'd been half-assing for the last hour. He watches as you soak a bit of the rag with rubbing alcohol and turn around to face him.

There will be blood," you say seriously.. "Red so it doesn't stain, or my mom will bitch at me."

Yuta leans back on his palms as you stand to his side and reach up to hold his earlobe so you can disinfect it. The scent of the alcohol burns his nose a little, but part of him likes it. You hold him by the chin with one hand and rub small circles over his earlobe with the other. He watches you as you work and realizes that he likes seeing you in your element. Your brows are drawn in concentration, but your hands are steady.

You pull back, dropping your hand from his chin and your eyes meet his. "You ready?"

Yuta nods, trusting you fully not to hurt him more than necessary. You turn to reveal a sewing needle and the red rag from before. You place the rag in his hand before moving to situate yourself in front of him. He's waiting for you to go for the same position, but you're hesitating, biting your lip and you pinch the needle between two fingers.

"Uh, sorry," you say, and he thinks it's the first time he's even seen you act even a little flustered. You stand just to his left side, the outside of your knee brushing against his ribs and you're holding his chin again. Yuta's heart rate jumps at the contact.

"Want me to count?"

He shakes his head and squeezes a squishmallow in his fist. And then you're putting the needle in and he sucks in a breath. He makes a mental note to apologize to the plushie later because right now he's damn near destroying it.

"You feel okay?" you ask. Your voice is serious, concerned yet steady.

It stings, it burns, a fucking needle just went through his flesh, but the pain seems somehow faraway now. Your face is just a few inches away from his, and you're so close that he can smell the traces of hemp cigarettes on your breath. He is aware that blood soaking the wash rag you're holding against his neck, but he's too lost in your gaze to care as he answers breathlessly, "hardly felt it."

Your half-lidded eyes flick down to his lips. His heart hammers against his chest and he can see your pulse jumping on your neck. And he's reaching for you, acting more on instinct than rational thought. He thinks of sliding his thumb across the expanse of your jawline, of tucking a stray hair behind your ear. Blood roars in his ears and he lets his eyes flutter closed as you lean in, and his nose just barely brushes yours-

Then your phone is ringing, shrill and annoyingly intrusive, and you jump backward as you both flinch. Yuta feels hot, his shirt suddenly too thick and the room suddenly too small. He takes over holding the rag as you answer the call, getting up to go into the hallway.

Yuta's mind is reeling. He'd almost just kissed you...WHY DIDN'T HE JUST DO IT? He's cursing himself, cursing the cowardice that seems to be his default setting. What would've happened if your stupid phone hadn't started ringing?

And his thoughts are cut off when you burst back into the room and start cleaning up the papers strewn about your desk. Yuta notices the frown marring your face, any trace of your excitement having disappeared.

"My mom's gonna be home in like five minutes, so you gotta go," you say quickly. "Like now. Or she's gonna ground me."

"What about my ear?" he asks, rising to his feet. It's so painful and he's wondering how in the fuck you truly tolerated doing this to yourself.

You groan. "Yuta, I'm sorry, but you have to go. I'll text you what to do with your ear later."

And so he gathers his things, bids Momo farewell, and walks himself home with a bloody rag and a confused spirit.

Nothing like that happens again. You don't bring it up, and he takes it as a message to do the same. Even still, his mind will wander to the feeling of the tip of your nose touching his, and he often wonders if he'll ever get the chance to touch you again. *** A few weeks later, the project is nearing completion, and Yuta can't deny that the final draft is coming together well. He has spent every Tuesday and Thursday afternoon at your house while Momo oversees production and the two of you share snacks. He's learned that you prefer fruity flavors over milky ones and that you can devour an entire bag of seaweed snacks in ten minutes. It amuses him deeply, especially in comparison to the darkness you exude on a normal basis.

He's also learned that you love cats, and you sleep with three squishmallows every night. You have a green thumb when it comes to houseplants, and you paint every pot yourself. So, Monday night he asks his mother to get an extra bag of seaweed snacks so he can bring it to you the next day as a surprise.

But when Yuta arrives to the classroom that morning, you're not sitting in your unassigned-assigned seat. You beat him there almost every day now that he's doing library duty with Yuji, so he shrugs it off until it's well past roll call and you're still not there. At the next break, he shoots a text asking where you are, feeling awfully lonely without the usual annoyed glares sent from his left side.

Lunch comes and he's anxious when he looks at his phone to see there's been no reply. His thumbs hover over the screen as he debates whether to send another text, knowing it will annoy you, but his curiosity threatens to win the battle. Yuta glances up to see Yuji holding out a small handful of multicolored rock candy.

"I hate these," Yuji says, making a face. "You want it?"

Yuta blinks at him. “Uh, no, thank you.”

The other boy groans before tossing them right into his backpack, surely now gone forever. Yuta cringes a little, suddenly wondering what other…treasures might linger at the bottom of Yuji’s bag. But then his phone is buzzing in his hands and Yuta’s heart rate jumps thirtyfold. And it’s you (you’re alive!), and the excitement he gets from the three words you’ve sent is embarrassing, but he doesn’t care.

>the doctor >why

&lt;you missed a quiz.

>idc

A smile tugs at Yuta's lips. Of course you don't. His fingers fly over the keypad as he types out the question that's been burning in his mind all day.

&lt;am I still good to come over?

And you're quick to reply, making him wonder what was taking you so long before.

>u might get there before me but there's a key under the cat statue

Yuta is triumphant throughout the rest of the day. It's around 4:15 by the time he makes it to your front door, buzzing from how excited he is to deliver the bag of seaweed snacks. He glances around the porch, searching for the statue that looks like Momo to retrieve the alleged spare key.

The door is unlocked, so he concludes that you are home after all. He quickly returns to the key to its holder and closes the door behind him. It's dark inside, all the curtains drawn and the lights shut off. Momo is not there to greet him, and you are nowhere to be found. Yuta calls out your name in question.

There's a trilling sound as Momo descends the stairs and pads over to him, weaving in and out from between his shins. Yuta bends to give her some pets, but she darts away toward the stairs once more. She looks back at him before running up, tail flicking back and forth as she meows, and then it clicks.

"Oh!" he says. "Lead the way, ma'am, by all means."

So he follows, and as he reaches the top of the stairs he hears the sound of running water.

It's deja vu. He's seen this film before and is currently living in the end credits waiting for another scene that will never come. Is this the sequel? The parallels are so uncannily similar that it has to be a joke. It's a prank- it has to be. Your name tears from his mouth as he tries the doorknob knowing that it will be locked. And as predicted, it doesn't budge, so he knocks once, twice, three times, but there's no answer.

"Yuta, stop!" you say from the other side. Even from those two words, he can hear the distress in your voice. He feels desperate, shaky, and he knows he has to get you to open the door before you do something stupid. The words tear from his lungs,

"I will break this fucking door down if you don't open it right now!"

The water stops running. The only sound is Momo scratching at the door, trying just as desperately to get you to stop.

And it's you, and the sight makes his blood run cold. There are so many horizontal marks on your arms, and there's blood seeping from each one. Yuta is acting purely on instinct as he surges toward you.

He grips your forearms uncaring of the blood that's going to stain his skin. You're hyperventilating, hot salty tears streaming down your face as Yuta tries to get you to look at him. You're rasping something shakily over and over, and he's trying to get you to speak up so he can hear properly.

"Talk to me," he says gently. "It's okay."

He reaches to grab the washcloth hanging by the sink to press them to your cuts, but before the fabric makes contact, you burst into tears once more and shake your head frantically.

"No!" you cry. "Get the red ones from under the sink."

And it clicks for him then. This was not an isolated event, evident by the tall stack of red washrags and how you'd been so dead set on using one when you pierced his ear. You rarely wore short sleeves even when it had been so hot lately. He remembers grabbing you in the hallway at school and how you'd clutched at your arm then.

He holds one rag to each of your arms and instructs you to keep them there. On the bathroom counter is an assortment of pill bottles, each of which had your name printed on them with your date of birth. Drugs like fluoxetine, alprazolam, and lithium, all of which are ones he's been on himself over the years. A certain numbness flows through him as he detaches himself from the situation.

How close of a call was it? How long had you been planning? What triggered you? When? You've left him speechless, completely stupefied because of course, he should've seen the signs.

"Unlock your phone for me," he says calmly, handing the device to you. You comply. He scrolls through your contacts until he finds your mother's and instantly he taps the call button.

"Hello?"

It's a woman's voice, an unfamiliar one. Yuta keeps it brief, not wanting to upset you further by going into detail and acting like you aren't in the room.

"Yes, I'm staying with her until you get here. We're in the upstairs bathroom."

Yuta does not raise his voice. He does not scream, does not yell. He only regards you with sadness in his eyes as his fingers wrap around yours clutching the bottle.

"Yuta, why?" you wail.

It breaks his heart. It shatters his soul in a way that he knows is going to affect him longer after this moment, but he has to do it. Yuta tilts his wrist and lets the pills fall into the toilet until the rattling stops and the bottle is empty. There are tears streaming down your face and your eyes are wide with something that chills his blood as he glimpses you.

"I can't let you," Yuta says in a calm voice. His throat feels tight, like he might scream or burst into tears any moment, but he wills himself to remain composed for your sake. He cannot break when you need him so dearly.

You're sobbing as the words tumble from your mouth while you sink to your knees. "You don't understand..."

And Yuta's kneeling before you, resting both of his hands on either of your shoulders to pull you into him. You let him wrap his arms around your shaking body and he lets you weep. It's uncontrollable, it's animalistic, it's desperate and the sadness infects Yuta's heart. 17 years of pain, trauma, and too-heavy crosses fill his ears and poison his soul.

The two of you stay like that until your mother arrives several minutes later. Yuta hears the garage door open through the bathroom floor. You're still clinging to him, your sobs having turned into soft yet consistent cries and sniffles. He hears the jingle of keys and a set of footsteps that fly up the staircase until a woman stands in the way of the bathroom door.

You look like her, Yuta thinks. Your mother's tired eyes meet his and she thanks him. Yuta gently guides you to sit on the edge of the bathtub, feeling awkward to touch you so intimately in front of your mother. Your face is a mess, red and puffy with an empty expression that squeezes painfully at Yuta's heart.

"Yuta..." you say, gazing at his face sadly.

He knows it's his cue to leave, but his feet are rooted in place beneath the weight of your presence. He doesn't want to leave you. He thinks of the cries that ripped from your throat just moments ago, knowing that he will hear them in his dreams now. But it's not his place to rescue you. You'd said so yourself- you're not his girlfriend. So he squeezes your arm, keeping his eyes downcast, before rising to his feet and ducking out of the bathroom door.

Walking home is torture and sleep does not come that night. Nor the following, because his mind is devoted to replaying. And he goes to school that Monday half-awake and swaying as he stands in the breakfast line with Yuji. He sees your tear-stained face and empty eyes, the despair riddling your voice.

And he's heard nothing from you. No one at school asks about you, not even the teachers who see the empty seat that no one will take because it's yours. They see the dark circles painting his undereye, yet there is no mention of your name. He is so clearly on the edge of falling apart, but the world moves on around him despite claiming to care.

One week after that Monday, Yuta goes to the records clerk in the administration building during his lunch period. He asks for your emergency contact by name after briefly explaining your episode. The clerk agrees to give him your mother's phone number after insisting that he's your cousin. And those digits are gold to him, more precious than any gemstone money can buy.

"She's been admitted to a psychiatric facility," your mother explains. "We've pulled her out of school for now. Just want to give her time to get better, you know?"

All Yuta can see is you dressed in a hoodie with no strings and pants with no zippers as you trudge silently through hospital hallways. Your face devoid of all emotion, numb to the world as you recover from your dance with death.

Your mother said it's what you wanted, so Yuta had no choice but to let it go. So that following Monday, he goes to school. Not one person mentioned your name in passing, nor did they ask him about you.

But days turn into weeks, and months into years, and Yuta never saw you. Texts go ignored and every social media account you'd had was deleted. Selfishly, he feels that you've abandoned him, as desperately as he tries not to blame you in any way.

He walks by your house one afternoon to see a moving truck parked in the driveway as strangers, not you or Momo, march in and out of the front door. The cat statue on your porch isn't there, and Yuta's heart sinks to the ground. You're gone.

[youreobsessedwithtoomanyfandoms]

know its for the better

Words: 2733

Warnings: angst, talks of a miscarriage, body image, talks of difficulty staying pregnant, mention of what is technically a still-birth, depression, suicidal thoughts, self-medicating, accidental suicide attempt, probably poor writing and OOC characters but whatever

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Part 2 for "Love Thorns All Over This Rose"

I decided to make this be longer than just two part, so this'll be a sort of mini-series

I just want to leave another TW here: if you have ever suffered through a miscarriage or any type of child loss, please proceed with caution. I do heavily talk about how Y/N feels after suffering through that and do talk about her feeling like a failure of a woman and other things. I just want everyone to know that if you feel triggered by that, I apologize and I don't want anyone to be upset over what I wrote

I also want to say that I personally have never gone through. What I write in this, is purely based off of what I have read in other fics or stories as well as seen people talk online. I am trying not to offend anyone and if I do in any of the part that I talk about those things; I severely apologize.

Reminder that Alfred is dead in this so that's why he isn't here!

The POV here still isn't really consistent. It jumps between being with the Batkids, Bruce, and Y/N's. I tried to make it flow though so hopefully that works!

Reminder that Bruce and Y/N's ages don't matter (I'm not in the mood to deal with that) but; Dick is 31 (and married to Kori but that's not too important), Jason is 25, Tim is 22, Damian is 15, Cass is 24, and Steph is 23

Also a reminder that I also am not too familiar with Duke, so that is why he isn't there much. Mostly just mentioned

Anywho, enjoy

Love Z <3

All that he knew was that he walked in on his dad doing CPR on his mom.

That was all he knew.

That was all Dick knew.

3 Months Ago

Y/N tightened her grip around her purse, the people were following her too closely. She knew this. The light was still out, she kept reminding her that. Kept telling herself that no one would try to kidnap her in broad daylight.

But oh how wrong she was.

She should have known better. She grew up in Gotham. She should have known better.

----

Now

Three days had passed since everything happened. Bruce had refused to leave the hospital. He wondered if it was from guilt of not being there for her other times. Or if he was just filling in his obligation as a husband. Or maybe...maybe Dick was right and he was just doing all he could to preserve his image.

But none of that mattered. Bruce was staying until she woke up. Because she had to wake up. He had to show her that he still cared. That he still loved her. That he knows...he knows how much of a horrible person he has been to her for the past month.

He had to make sure she knew that he regretted it. Every word he said to her that night.

But every sign scared him. They had already had to resuscitate her since getting here. The tube was stuck down her throat, helping her to breathe. Nurses looking at him with pity, making him feel foolish for holding out hope that she would be okay. With every look that they gave him, there was a sort of emptiness and despair settling into his stomach.

Almost as if he agreed with them.

But he couldn't. He couldn't be agreeing with them. It wouldn't be useless holding out hope that she would be okay.

He ran his thumb over her palm, his eyes glancing up her arm and body until they landed on the raised skin on her collarbone. His hand that wasn't holding hers, come up to run over it. One of the many reminders of what happened 3 months ago.

----

3 Months Ago

Y/N woke up groggily. Her head was pounding and she felt like she had been dropped from a tall building. She blinked, trying to see something, anything, but as her eyes opened, she wished she could go back to seeing nothing.

She was sure that she was in the sewers. The damp and musky smell with the sound of water dripping down the old stone walls and floors around her made her all too aware of where she was. She tried swallowed any saliva, but her mouth was dry. Tears pricked her eyes from pain as she carefully pushed herself up.

Her heart was pounding in her chest as she gingerly touched her stomach. Involuntarily, her own body flinched back from her touch. She felt her air catch in her throat as she felt nothing moving. In the past month or so, her baby had been moving all the time, leading her on to many sleepless nights.

Deep down, she knew. She knew that her baby was dead. And she knew that there was nothing to be done about it.

She jumped back as she heard the sound of shoes pounding against the damp stones. She tried to move away from the only place that someone could come from, but with her hands and legs being tied together, it was harder than expected. She slipped slightly, her side hitting the stone hard.

Three men, with honestly average builds, stalked into the area. She breathed raggedly as she watched them continue towards her. She tried to push away as one grabbed her arm and forcibly pulled her up, a yelp of surprise and pain left her mouth as she was pulled to her feet.

These three men were normal. They weren't some goons or some chemically induced maniacs. They were normal.

And maybe that scared her more.

One of the men, who she assumed was the leader, walked up to her, knife raised. Her eyes darted between him, his associates, and the knife. Any self-defense training that Bruce had taught her, flew out the window as she stood before these men.

"When the situation arises, you'll remember what to do."

That was what Bruce had always told her. But here she was. In the situation and nothing was showing up in her mind as what she was supposed to do.

She leaned back as the guy leaned in but the one with the grip on her arm moved one of his hands to hold her head and make her look at him. She shook as she felt the knife against her collarbone.

A small whimper of pain left her mouth as she felt the knife push deeper, deep enough that it would scar over, before she was pushed back to the ground. The one with the knife gave her a sadistic smile before hoarsely whispering, "We're going to make sure Bruce Wayne finds you dead."

She stared in near terror as she held her hand over where they had sliced and watched as they left just as quickly as they had came.

----

Now

Jason stood in a corner away from Y/N's body. Even with the tube gone, she still didn't wake up. Although she had made some developments...some in the past 8 days that she had been in here and everyone had convinced Bruce to go home and get some proper sleep. So now here Jason was, standing in a room where the woman he had allowed to become his mom was laying still.

But he stayed away from her body.

Something he didn't say often was just how scared he can get. He remembers each time he's been absolutely terrified. When Bruce, well Batman, caught him stealing the wheels to the Batmobile. When he was stuck in that warehouse and Bruce didn't make it in time. When he saw Y/N again for the first time since his "death" and he thought that she would hate him for what he had done. When she was taken. Those words he heard Bruce hurling at Y/N.

And right now.

Jason was keeping his composure, but inside, he was a trembling and terrified child. A kid who just needed to know his mom was going to be alright.

Inside, he knew exactly how Damian was feeling.

But as he stared at her body, his mind couldn't stop drifting, remembering what he had heard that night 4 weeks ago. All he could do was wonder what would have happened if maybe, just maybe, he had gotten angry at Bruce for what he heard.

----

4 Weeks Ago

It was nearly 2 AM when Jason was going to sneak out of the Manor. Technically, it was easy to do, well...it was once he got passed Bruce and Y/N's room. So, he was as silent as he could be as he passed by. But he stopped in his tracks as he heard the voices from behind the cracked door.

Now, Jason wouldn't say he was noisy. But don't all kids stop and listen whenever they hear their parents arguing?

But they weren't arguing. No. He had heard that before. This wasn't it. This was different.

And it scared him.

He stood by the door as Bruce's voice got louder: "--Well I'm sorry that I'm not here anymore Y/N! But can you fucking blame me?"

"And what is that supposed to mean?" Her voice was low, warning him to think before he spoke.

"You didn't pay attention and got taken. You and your inability to pay attention to your surroundings got our baby killed."

She sucked in a breath, "You think I don't blame myself already, Bruce? Do you think that I don't wonder what would have happened if I just hadn't gone out that day?"

"Please, this doesn't affect you. You're perfectly fucking fine."

"Because I have to be!" She nearly screamed, "One of us has to be a parent to everyone else in this home and we both know it won't be you!"

"They aren't even your kids, Y/N, why do you--"

A loud slap echoed and Jason's hand went over his mouth as he continued to listen.

"Those kids are mine. I am the one who helped raise them. I am the one who has made sacrifices for them! You haven't done shit for them, ever." She let out a choked back laugh, "All I did was ask for you to be here with me, to understand what I am feeling and going through. But of course, you don't understand anything."

"I understand that you killed our baby."

"No Bruce. Those men came after me to hurt you. You are the reason I was taken and lost our baby. But sure," Her voice started to break, "Go on. Blame me. I'm used to you doing that anyways.

----

Now

Jason breathed shakily as he grabbed his helmet and stormed out of the room. He knew Dick would be there soon with Damian anyways and he had to get out of there.

--------

Dick watched as Damian laid curled into Y/N's side. Bruce was, miraculously, still sleeping as he and Damian snuck out to the hospital. He didn't do it much for himself as he did it for Damian, he knew that the kid had a sort of...guilt that he could have done something.

Not that Dick could say anything against that. He felt guilty as well.

Y/N was his mom. He was the oldest son. He should have protected her, that was his job. Dick was the protector. He was always supposed to protect everyone. Y/N and even Bruce included. He already had been in this situation before. The immense guilt of failing to protect Y/N.

He remembers what he thought that first time he was here. Remembers the guilt of already failing to keep Alfred alive and not wanting to fail Y/N.

----

3 Months Ago

Dick ran through the sewers, trying to find Y/N. Two days had passed since she had gone missing. All of them had lost sleep trying to find her and now they were searching the sewers for where she could be. He felt like a failure, a bad kid, all because he didn't

He stopped in his tracks as he heard her labored breathing. He turned in the direction that he heard the breathing, his own getting caught in his throat when he saw her laying in the fetal position.

"Mom." He breathed out, rushing to kneel by her side. He gently grabbed her face and looked at her, tears pooling in his eyes. "Mom, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

He failed. Guilt filling with him. Guilt of failing Alfred and now her.

He was a failure and he knew that.

"You-you're not a--"

----

Now

"--A failure."

He stopped and looked at Y/N, his eyes wide. "Mom?"

Her head was turned to the side, a small look of gentle concern on her face. "You're not a failure Dick." She whispered through a hoarse voice, "You didn't fail anyone. Especially not me."

But he shook his head. He did. Not once. But twice. First being after she was taken and now this.

"Dick, stop that. The only person here that failed was me."

He got up and angrily wiped the tears from his eyes, "But I-I just...you never--"

Her hand shakily came up to touch his face, "I'm the one who failed sugar. I should've..."

She stopped, hand leaving his to rub her neck. Out of instinct of all the times waking up from injuries, he grabbed her the bottle of water he had grabbed earlier. Unscrewing the lid, he gently brought it to her lips and she quickly took a gulp of it.

After a moment, she gently held his wrist. "Dick, look at me and believe me when I tell you that it's not your fault. You did nothing wrong." Her grip tighten on his wrist for a moment, "You or your siblings." She glanced over at Damian, her arm wrapped around the kid who was now sleeping. "You all had nothing that you could do." She looked back at him, "Everything that happened, that I did, was nothing to do with you kids. It um...it--"

"Has to do with dad?"

She nodded silently before breathing shakily, "I know Jason heard what Bruce and I said. Ahd I um...I assume that--"

He stopped her, his head shaking. "He didn't tell us anything."

"Oh." She sucked in a breath, "Let's just say, both your father and I say things that we shouldn't have. Not saying they weren't truthful...that deep down we didn't mean each and every word that passed our lips...but you kids aren't to blame."

Dick swallowed hard, "Why did you do it mom?"

Her hand fell from his wrist and she looked away, out to the window. "You don't understand how I felt after everything--"

----

6 Weeks Ago

Y/N silently stared out the window. Her hands mindlessly moving up and down her now flatter stomach. She felt disgusting and like a failure. A failure as a wife and as a mother and...as a woman. She was hurting. Not physically, sure her entire body was in pain, but mentally, she was in much more pain.

Her head snapped as she heard the door open. She saw Bruce standing at the door, an almost uncomfortable look on his face. She shakily looked away, ashamed to even look at him.

She heard his almost scoff, "Y/N, come on. You need to talk about it."

She looked at him slightly before whispering with a strained voice, "So do you."

"Y/N, I didn't...nevermind." She looked away again as he walked further in, "Doctors said that you'll be able to leave soon. By the end of the week at most."

She nodded, "Alright." Her voice nearly numb and void of emotion. She turned her head to him, "You always gonna hate me now?"

Bruce sighed, "I don't...I don't hate you."

"Why not?" Her words started to lace with their own venom, "I lost our baby. Because I'm such a..."

He shook his head, "Don't finish that sentence. You are not a failure baby. It wasn't your fault. None of what happened was your fault. You weren't gonna know that someone was going to come after you.

----

Now

"Y/N?" She felt herself freeze when she heard the voice. She kept her eyes everywhere but at the door. She didn't want to see him. Not here. Not now. "Dick can you--"

"Mom doesn't want to see you."

"Dick you don't--"

"Dick it's okay." She whispered, looking at her oldest. "Take Damian down to the food court, force him to eat some junk."

"Mom--"

"Go." She whispered before he silently nodded and grabbed the younger boy, starting to carry him out of the room. She weakly gripped the blanket, "Why are you here?"

"Can I not visit my wife."

She shook her head, "I am not your wife, Bruce." She looked at him angrily, "You're the one who served the fucking papers."

"And I can't--"

"Bruce, you told me that the only reason you were letting me stay in the manor was for the kids. Was so that Damian didn't have to losing another person." She breathed angrily, "You stopped loving me, not the other way around. You're only here to keep up appearances that you are a loving and devoted husband." She leaned forward in his direction, "But I know exactly what you are."

"And what's that?" He challenged.

"A selfish coward who only cares for himself and his image."

He shook his head, "I'm sorry that I made you think so lowly of me."

Tears burned her eyes, "Get out."

"Y/N--"

"Get out, Bruce. Now."

He stood and started for the door, momentarily stopping to look at her. "I still love you, I know what I did and what I said shows otherwise, but all I ask for is one more chance and I'll prove it to you."

Her lip quivered for a moment before she whispered out, "Tell the nurses I woke up."

[ech0schamber]

i hope your injury gets better asap!! but as for requests,, how about dazai/ranpo reacting to you waking up after being in a coma for a year(s)?

awhh, thank you :] and sorry this took so long, i totally forgot to check my computer lmao

and damn, jumping straight into the angst lets go

☆i just had to use this gif i couldn't find the one from oda's scene

☆ANYWAYS

☆you had been on a mission with dazai when you got severely injured, he had tried to get you out of the area and to a hospital as fast as he could, but you still went into a coma due to your injuries

☆he had tried his hardest to stay stronger for you, but as soon as he was told that you were in a coma and that the doctors had no idea when you were going to wake up, he immediately wanted to sob his eyes out

☆he got incredibly drunk that night

☆for the first couple of months, he visited you every day. even if it meant that he left work early to see you. for once, kunikida never scolded him about it

☆eventually, he stopped visiting as frequently. it went from everyday, to every couple of days, to maybe once a week. it got to the point that he would only visit you a handful of times every mouth. the longer you were there, the more and more hope he lost

☆during this time, his alcoholic tendencies got worse, he ended up hurting himself more, even his suicide attempts got worse and more frequent. everyone at the agency started to look after him, hell, even chuuya started to look after him

☆you had finally woke up from your coma, and you immediately asked where dazai was. once the doctors checked your vitals and made sure you weren't at risk for falling into another coma, they had called dazai to tell him

☆he was at the agency when they called, now normally, he wouldn't answer his phone, but he had saved the number of the hospital just in case

☆he almost broke down as soon as he heard that you were awake. he basically ran out of the agency, much to kunikida's dislike. (he understands once he finds out your awake though)

☆it took him like 10 minutes to get to the hospital bc his lanky ass ran the whole way there

☆the second that he walked into the hospital room and saw that you truly had woken up, the tears immediately started falling. he hugged you and sobbed into your shoulder for almost an hour before he could calm himself down

☆thankfully, the doctors had informed you that you were in a coma for over a year, so you didn't freak out when this happened

☆you had held him tightly the whole time, whispering reassuring and comforting comments to him the whole time

☆once he had finally fully calmed down, he gave you a big ol' smooch

☆he took a second to text kunikida to give him the news, and to ask for the next few days off, dazai was not going to leave your side. if the hospital staff wasn't willing to let him stay, they would probably have to drag his ass out of the hospital

☆but, for the sake of my sanity, the doctors were nice and let him stay :]

☆now, after being in a coma for that long, your muscle start to weaken and basically give out on themselves. i mean, you were stuck in one position for over a year, that to be expected. you are going to be stuck in a wheelchair for a while, your legs can't carry your weight anymore

☆dazai was very willing to help you with your physical therapy, he basically moved himself into your apartment to help you. he'd even leave in the middle of work if you called him stating you needed help with something

☆jumping forward a bit, you're on crutches now, and can walk around your apartment without much help now

☆now that dazai's head had finally fully processed that you were awake, he'd become clingy as fuck. he wanted to cling to you earlier, but he was terrified of accidentally hurting you

☆you got yourself a human koala now, congrats ;]

☆he is going to get possessive of you, he lost you for a year, he is not going to let you out of his sight for a long time. don't even think about trying to go onto a dangerous mission, he will trap you, and threaten his co-workers if they try to assign you a mission they know is dangerous. you are probably going to have to reel it in a bit, he can get very possessive at times, but it is because he is absolutely terrified that you are going to get injured and he won't be able to save you

☆please comfort him, he needs a lot of love after that

☆ohhh this poor baby

☆he knew that you were going to get hurt by taking this mission, and he told you that. you still went, ignoring his warning. he did not know that you were going to be sent into a coma due to your injuries

☆he, of course, stayed back at the agency, his job doesn't intel mission work like yours does, but he knew something was very wrong when you didn't come back when you supposed to

☆he was contacted by the hospital, as he was your emergency contact. he was absolutely devastated by the news. for once, he just quietly left. he didn't even tell fukuzawa what was happening, he only found out later when yosano had reported back to everyone.

☆he didn't go to the hospital immediately. instead, he went home and bawled his eyes out. he didn't know what to do, and it honestly made him fill like a lost child again

☆he visited you everyday. he didn't care if you didn't wake up from the coma, he would still visit you every single day

☆he cried. a lot. it ended up taking a toll on his mental health, everyone at the agency had noticed and started caring for him in your absence, he even ended up staying at fukuzawa's place several times bc he couldn't bear the thought of going home alone

☆anytime his phone went off, he'd immediately checked it to see if it was the hospital calling

☆when the hospital did finally call though? he shot out of the agency at lightning speed, his beloved was finally awake and he was not going to let them be alone for very long

☆he quite literally threw himself onto you when he finally saw you. the doctors were not to pleased by this, but neither of you cared

☆he cried into your shoulder for the longest time, clinging onto you as he was afraid that you would disappear into thin air if he let go of you, so there is no way he didn't stay with basically the whole time you were in the hospital

☆he'd also be very willing to help you with physical therapy! and he'd make sure you'd eat properly, you probably lost a lot of weight

☆literally made a rule that if he tells you not to go on a mission, you don't go on that mission. like, no one at the agency would let you leave for said mission, even fukuzawa wouldn't assign you cases if ranpo said that you were going to get hurt on them

☆get ready for possessive ranpo, he is going to make sure that will never happen again

☆will literally ask yosano to go kill a bitch if they lay their hands on you

----

while you can request angst headcanons as much as you want, please be aware that they are not going to be first priority! while i absolutely love writing angsty stuff, it's not always gonna be easy for me to do so

please don't let that stop you from requesting! i love to see all your ideas!

[gabrielsbubblegumbitch]

As you know by now, I absolutely love your headcanons, especially about the Vees, so I was curious to know that you think their love life might have been like on earth. Vox, I could imagine being married and having kids for appearance sake, but hating it. Val, I could see getting married once when he's still young, but overall being more of a fuckboy with plenty of illegitimate children. And Velvette, I'm not really sure. What are your thoughts on the Vees here?

tw // mentions of abuse and suicide

Ohh that's a good one!

So let's start with Vox. You've read my fanfic so you know about his wife. Her name was Vivienne and he was crazily in love with her. Well, at the beginning at least. Honestly, he was in love with the idea of her and how perfect they could have been. He proposed to her quickly and she was essentially pressed into the marriage by her parents, because who would deny a famous multimillionaire? But she fucking despised him and used every opportunity to remind him about that. Vox so desperately wanted her to follow his fantasy he grew to be abusive, constantly struggling between love for the imagined version of her and hatred towards her true self. They've never had a children though because she didn't want to be mother of his children and he didn't want to share her attention with anyone. You know how it turned out for them.

Valentino has never gotten married because he's not a monogamous type. His idea of love is an obsessive passion so in his mind he loved many people. None of his significant ones could bare him for longer than few months. Plus his way of living didn't support building stable realtionships. Any person he loved met a morbid end - killed in a fight between cartels, committed suicide to escape abuse, died of drug overdose or murdered by him. He thinks of himself as a tragic romantic hero, never destined to get his happily ever after because of course he doesn't recognize that he was the problem all along. Also I totally agree he has a bunch of illegitimate children and wouldn't be able to recall a single of their mothers' names. Actually I kinda like the idea that he has a daughter somewhere in hell that is currently plotting how to kill him for being a fucking garbage of a man.

Velvette I headcanon as aromantic and having a severe intimacy issues (disclaimer: those two things are not by any means connected, aromanticism doesn't equal any kind of issue and aro people can built deep and fulfilling raltionships; Velvette is just evil and self centred, that's the problem). So she has never had a love life per se but during her living days as a influencer she dated some fuckboy that looked good on her Instagram and helped her with building brand. Her followers were obsessed with their unhinged not-like-other-couples content, similarly that people used to be obsessed with Harley and Joker in 2010s. But of course Velvette was the big daddy in this relationship, he was just an arm candy, some dumb rich Jared recording emo tracks funded by his parent's money.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA if I told my sister I think she should put down her dog?

(cw: animal death, animal erection mention (I shit you not), suicide mention)

So, I (21nb) have a sister (Amelia, 23f). She’s been living with a friend for the past two years, but she still stops by the house every now and then. Most of the time, it’s just to drop off her dog (Max, toy poodle, 16?m) so that we (Dad and Mom, 63m and 55f, and Jamie, 25f) can dogsit him while she’s at work. We’ve already got three dogs of our own, and because both of my parents work full-time (and Jamie works from home part-time), I’m usually the one who has to take care of him during the day (along with our other dogs).

Unfortunately, because Max is an older dog, he has a lot of health issues. He’s mostly blind, fully deaf, and he has intense separation anxiety. He also bites when he’s startled, which is often because he’s deaf and blind. So most times he’s over he’ll pee in the house because he doesn’t know he’s inside, we’ll have to carefully pick him up and put him in the backyard so he can do his business, then stand outside with him so we can keep him from getting lost in a bush or bumping into a tree or freezing to death because he can’t find his way to the door, then we have to carefully pick him up again to bring him back inside. After that, he’ll often walk around the house while screaming because he can’t see or hear anyone and he thinks we’ve abandoned him. It’s hell to deal with, and I’ve had breakdowns on several different occasions while trying to deal with my other responsibilities and also keep him from screaming 24/7. When he’s not aimlessly wandering and screaming, he’s asleep in his dog bed for most of the day. It’s depressing to watch him so sad and unmotivated. He doesn’t know how to be a dog without her.

Recently, Amelia’s been dropping him off more often and for longer stretches. She works retail, so I can understand that her schedule is fucked most of the time. But she’s also been dropping Max off because he’s so overwhelming for her to deal with. He has the same issues when he’s at home with her, but he’s also like 10 times more energetic when she’s around (and he screams when she’s around but not holding him or giving him attention), which is hard for her to deal with after three days of back to back shifts. She’s called my mom before to ask us to take Max for a night just so she can get some sleep.

The most recent time Amelia dropped Max off, she said that he’d been having painful prolonged erections, and that we’d probably have to wipe his penis down with a damp washcloth to get it to go back in. Now, I’ve had dogs for most of my life, I’m not exactly a stranger to having to wipe down doggy nether regions (hell, I’ve dealt with so many clingons you could call me a starfleet ambassador). But having to do that for a blind dog who’s known to bite when he’s startled? Just the idea of having to hold him while someone else wipes makes me want to cry tears of frustration. I’ve already got two scars from him biting me, I’m not aiming for a third.

With all of his health issues, I’m convinced that it’d be much more humane to put Max down now rather than letting him (and quite frankly, everyone who has to take care of him) suffer indefinitely. But at the same time, he’s Amelia’s rock. She’s struggled with depression and anxiety all her life, and she was even hospitalized for severe suicidal ideation two years ago. She’s told me herself that some days, the only thing that gets her out of bed is having to take care of Max. I’ve had a dog like that before, and when he passed suddenly, it destroyed me for months. I’m worried that if Amelia did have to have Max put down, it might lead to her being hospitalized again, or worse. I can’t keep living with him, but at the same time, I can’t expect her to live without him.

TL;DR: my sister’s dog has many health issues that require special care, and I’m responsible for babysitting him while she’s at work. my sister has mental health issues, and taking care of her dog is both incredibly stressful for her and one of the few sources of joy she has. I believe it’d be more humane for everyone if she puts her dog down, but I also don’t want to take away one of the few things that makes her happy. Would I be the asshole if I told her I think she should put down her dog?

What are these acronyms?

[sihtricfedaraaahvicius]

Warnings: angst. Mention of death, loss, violence, blood, hints to depression and suicide.

Pairing: Sihtric x modern!you (f)

Summary: part 5 of this request. Sihtric went to battle, you wanted to go home.

Word count: 4.4k

Note: I will not admit that I cried when I wrote this.

[chapter 1] [chapter 2] [chapter 3] [chapter 4]

taglist: @clairacassidy @finanmoghra @uunotheangel @hb8301 @bathedinheat  @neonhairspray @anaeve @bubblyabs @travelingmypassion @sylas-the-grim @heimtathurs @bubbles-for-all-of-us @valeskafics

Chapter 5.

'Did you foresee your own death?' 

***************

894 - September.

It had been nearly a year since you had woken up in the woods near Coccham, in your Halloween outfit, when you met a handsome Dane called Sihtric, who you had fallen in love with. And it had been almost 4 months since that handsome Dane, the love of your life, had left for battle. You hadn't heard anything from him ever since. There had been messengers who were sent from the battlefield to Cocchamm, who gave some information, but never a word about your beloved Dane. 

You were only told that a lot of men had been lost during the brutal battle. Gisela had received word that Uhtred was alive, which gave her some piece of mind. And you were happy for her. In a way. You were happy that Gisela didn't have to worry about her husband anymore, but you were bitter and hurt that no one could tell you if Sihtric had survived. And if he had not, you needed to know how he had died and by who, and if he had a sword or axe in hand when he lost his life. 

The messengers said that it had been hard to reach the men, as the lands they had fought on were completely destroyed during battle. Last news you received was that King Alfred's army had won, as you had expected, and that those who survived were now remaining to rid the lands of the bodies and to restore all they could. And you still waited for a sign, anything that would tell you Sihtric was alive.

But word never came.

*******************

894 - October 1.

You had been an absolute wreck since Sihtric left, and it was a mild consolation that almost every woman in Coccham had been worried about their lovers, husbands, brothers and fathers. And after what felt like a lifetime, slowly but surely men started to return to their loved ones. Many had severe injuries and had stayed near the previous battlefield to heal, before they would march back.

Every day groups of men would return. And every day you waited near the gates, hoping to see the man who held your heart would walk through. But he never did. And every day you would desperately cry, asking each and every single man who returned if they knew of Sihtric. But no one had a decent answer. 

Some men had seen him, some men had fought alongside him, some men had been saved by him, and some had seen he was injured, but no man had seen if he died, and no man had seen if he lived.

*******************

894 - October 15.

'I know you do not wish to hear this,' Hild spoke, 'but you have to let it go. This is not helping you.'

You heard her, loud and clear, but you refused to acknowledge her words, even though you knew she was right. You just kept your eyes fixated on the men that walked through the gates of Coccham, hoping to find him, but it would be another hopeless day. As would tomorrow be. And the day after that. And the day after that.

******************

894 - October 26.

'There is a way,' Gisela said.

She looked at you, concerned, as she took in the state you were in. You had tried to carry on with your life, but everyone knew and could see you were on the verge of tears every second of the day.

'Did you hear what I said?' she asked you.

You slowly looked up at her, not being sure if you had actually heard her.

'I said that there is a way. I found a way,' she smiled weakly, 'to bring you home.'

'Home?'

'Yes, your real home. I have recently met a seer, and I have told him about you. He said that he knew of a potion. You have to drink it during the next full Blood Moon, and it will take you back to your time.'

'And how do we know this seer is not full of shit?'

'I trust him. He has told me things.'

'Like what?' you scoffed.

Gisela hesitated before she spoke, 'He- he had told me that Uhtred was alive, before I received the actual word of the messengers. He also told me that they had won the battle, before we were told.'

You looked up at her, 'does he know of Sihtric?'

'I don't know, I am sorry,' Gisela said sadly, 'I have never asked. He needs a certain connection to get answers. Maybe, if you visit him, and bring something that belonged to Sihtric, he might be able to give an answer.'

You sighed. You wanted an answer, desperately. But now you still had some hope, and if the seer would tell you that Sihtric was gone, then you had nothing.

'I will think about it.'

********************

894 - October 28.

'Do you have anything that belongs to Sihtric which you can take with you?' Gisela asked.

'I have his- his necklace,' you touched the pendant around your neck as you teared up. You had tied a little knot in the broken string and kept it around your neck since the day Sihtric had left.

'That will work, I'm sure of it. We should leave now, it is getting dark.'

Gisela wrapped you in your cloak and she held your hand as she walked you to the seer, somewhere in the woods of Coccham. The same woods you had woken up in.

After quite a walk you entered a small cave, where the seer was already awaiting you.

'Please, sit,' the seer said, and he motioned you to sit across from him, 'did you bring a relic?'

'Yes,' you said as you sat down, 'I have a necklace.' 

You took it off and handed it to the seer. You looked at Gisela, who was next to you, and you already had tears rolling down your cheeks. She squeezed your hand, trying to comfort you.

'Fiance?' the seer asked.

'No, not… not official at least.'

'Lover then?'

'Y-yes.'

The seer hummed satisfied and closed his eyes as he clutched Sihtric's pendant in his hand. He started to chant something, some old language, you couldn't tell what it was, you only recognised the names of some pagan gods.

'Your lover,' the seer spoke, as if in trance, 'is he a Dane?'

'Yes,' you gasped, hopeful that this seer might be real.

'He is dead,' the seer said abruptly, as if he snapped out of his trance.

'W-what?'

'He's dead,' the seer shrugged, 'gone.'

He handed you back the necklace and then wiped his hands onto his filthy tunic.

You looked bewildered, and so did Gisela. But Gisela was more worried about your reaction than the actual news, and she gently wrapped an arm around you.

'N-no,' your voice trembled, 'he… he cannot be. You- you are wrong!'

'Lady,' the seer threw his hands up, 'he is gone. What else do you want me to say?'

'No! Do it again! Look again!'

'It doesn't work like that,' he scowled.

'But…. but-,' you stammered and looked at Gisela, who saw your eyes overflow with tears and she tried to hush you.

'Oh, my dearest,' she whispered.

'But he… he is supposed to marry me. He cannot be- he is- no, please. No!' you cried.

'It's okay, it's okay,' Gisela tried to calm you.

'No! It is not okay!' you sobbed, 'I want to go home. Please. Please, I just want to go home. I have-,' you gasped for air, 'I have nothing here anymore. I want to go home, please.'

You cried uncontrollably for a while until the seer finally spoke.

'I have heard of your problem. I can help you go back,' he said, and you looked up at him, 'but it'll cost you.'

********************

894 - October 30.

'The seer has brought the potion,' Gisela said. Hild walked in after Gisela and she closed your front door.

'How does it work?' you asked, desperate, looking up at the two women.

'You drink it during the full Blood Moon, tomorrow, in the woods, at the exact place you had woken up.'

You nodded in understanding as you fidgeted with Sihtric's necklace.

'Are you sure about this?' Hild asked as Gisela placed the potion on your table.

'What reason is there for me to stay?' you started to cry again, 'if not Sihtric,' you swallowed hard, 'and he-,' you let out a sob.

'We know, we know,' Hild said as both women embraced you, 'we understand.'

'We just want you to be sure,' Gisela said, 'there is no way back.'

'I know,' you cried, 'I know.'

********************

894 - October 31, Full Blood Moon.

'It has been an honour,' Hild said as she embraced you in front of Coccham's gate, 'it has been a miracle. You were a gift, but we understand it is time for you to leave.'

'Thank you for everything, Hild. You have been a good friend, and I will surely miss you,' you sniffled, 'but I am ready to go back home.'

You took off Sihtric's necklace, 'will you,' you sobbed, 'if… if you ever,' your voice hitched, 'if his body is found, will you… please,' you cried.

'Oh, no,' Gisela spoke softly, 'are you sure you do not wish to keep it?'

'It is best if I,' you paused to try and steady your voice, 'it is best if I try to- to forget him,' you sobbed again, 'please, Hild, will you?'

'I will,' Hild sniffled as she took the pendant, 'I will do everything in my power to have it burned with him. I promise.'

'Thank you,' you said, but it was inaudible through your sobbing.

'You must go, the moon is already waiting,' Hild smiled as tears rolled down her face, 'know that he truly loved you.'

'I know,' you snottered, 'as did I.'

And with those words you bid Hild farewell. And she stayed near the gates, waiting, like you had done, but not for Sihtric. She waited for Uhtred. He would know where Sihtric's body was and she was sure he could return the necklace.

********************

894 - October 31, Full Blood Moon.

'Are you ready?' the seer asked. 

He had joined you to make sure it would go as planned. You were to drink the potion he had created. You had no idea what was inside, you only knew it had cost you all your silver. But you were fine with that, it's not like it was of use back home.

'I am ready,' you said, nervously, after you had said your goodbyes to Gisela. You told her to thank Uhtred, Finan and Osferth for all the ale and bad jokes, and for helping you through a whole year of 'fucked up shit,' which she didn't fully understand, but she had in idea.

The seer told you that once you drank the potion, nothing would happen for a short while, but it would make you fall asleep. And once you wake up, you should be back home again.

And so you opened the bottle with shaky hands, took a deep breath, and then a large sip of the potion.

*********************

894 - October 31, Full Blood Moon.

'Uhtred! Oh, dear God, Uhtred!' Hild cried as she embraced him.

'Sweet Jesus,' Finan chuckled, 'who died here?' he joked, nudging the man next to him as he saw Hild's face.

'Uhtred, you- you have to,' Hild sniffled and paused, holding up Sihtric's necklace, 'you have to find Sihtric's body and return this.'

'His body?' Finan scoffed, and he looked at the man beside him, who he had just nudged, 'his body is right here,' Finan snorted.

Hild looked up at the man.

'Sihtric?' she asked, looking like she saw a ghost, 'I- I did not recognise you!'

'See,' Finan nudged Sihtric again, 'I told ya to not get that ridiculous haircut, it's not a hit with the ladies.'

Hild studied Sihtric with big eyes. He was still the same, except his hair had grown longer and covered most of his tattoo, but only one side was longer, for the other side of his head was shaved. He had also grown a good goatee, and Hild thought he looked suddenly more mature than when she had last seen him. And that is why she had no idea he was standing next to her as she had tried to speak to Uhtred.

'Oh, no,' Hild whispered, clasping her hands before her mouth in shock, 'no, no we thought you were dead. We-'

'Dead?' Finan frowned again, more serious this time, 'why?'

'We- we didn't hear anything. We only heard Uhtred was alive.'

'Hild,' Sihtric suddenly said with slight terror in his voice, 'where is my woman?'

'Sihtric,' she sighed and shook her head in disbelief.

'Where is she?' he asked again, with more dread this time. And the other men grew concerned too when they saw the colour leave Hild's face.

'She, she,' Hild stammered, 'Gisela took her to a seer, who had told Gisela that Uhtred was alive, before your messenger reached us.'

'A seer?' Uhtred frowned, and the men shared a concerned look.

'The seer then told her that Sihtric had d-died,' Hild continued, 'she had no reason to stay. She was a wreck.'

'Where is my wife!?' Sihtric exclaimed, knowing very well he wasn't married to you, but Uhtred had given his permission, so to Sihtric, you were his wife for weeks already.

'She…Sihtric, I'm… I'm so sorry,' Hild stammered, frightened by the look in Sihtric's eyes, 'she left. She- Gisela- they are in the woods. She is to drink a potion that will bring her back home.'

'What is the name of this seer?' Uhtred asked sternly.

'I- I don't know, I am sorry. All I know is he is a Dane and he lives in the woods, near the river.'

'A Dane near the river?' Uhtred asked and he groaned, 'that is not a seer! That is Storri!'

'Oh sweet Jesus,' Finan said and rubbed his hands through his hair.

'He will tell you anything for a piece of silver and he will most likely have her killed with that poison he claims to be a potion!' Uhtred yelled.

Everyone looked at Sihtric for a moment, but he didn't move or speak. Instead, his jaw was clenched as he was breathing heavy yet calm, staring into Hild's eyes. And Hild, the former nun, had directed her eyes away from him as fast as she could, because she had seen something in those mismatched eyes she had never seen before. And it had frightened her, because never before had she seen such pure blood lust. And she believed it was not Sihtric who she was looking at. And she muttered a prayer, after she had flinched when Sihtric reached out and tore his necklace out of her hand.

'Take me to my wife,' was all the man said, who did not sound like Sihtric anymore.

******************

894 - October 31, Full Blood Moon.

'Lady! Lady Gisela!' Hild shouted as she ran through the woods, hoping you and Gisela would be able to hear her in time. 'Do not let her drink the potion! The men have returned! They are alive and well!' Hild shouted desperately, 'Sihtric is alive! She cannot leave!' Hild cried out as she continued to run, 'Uhtred has given him permission! Do not let her leave!'

Hild ran as fast as she could, muttering prayers as she was looking for you. And she was followed by Sihtric, who was in such a state of sheer madness, that Hild didn't dare to look into his eyes again, for she feared she would see the Devil himself once more, like she had seen when she had told him the news. And Hild knew that if Sihtric didn't find you in time, he would unleash that Devil and turn Coccham into hell on earth.

'Gisela!' she cried again, desperate, 'Sihtric, do you remember the exact spot you found her?'

'I do,' he snarled, understanding the hint and he ran past her as fast as he could, towards the place he had first laid eyes on you. The same place where he had fallen in love with you, and the same place where he would lose his sanity.

As they neared the spot, Hild couldn't scream anymore. Her voice was entirely gone by the amount she has cried out for you already. And she wondered why Sihtric didn't call your name. But she would later understand he kept quiet because he did not want to warn the seer he was on his way.

******************

Gisela held your lifeless body in her arms as she searched for a pulse, but she could not find it. And she cried. She cried because she mourned you, and she also cried because she was not sure if you were actually back home, when your body was still here.

Meanwhile, Storri, the "seer", looked satisfied as he counted the silver he had just earned as your body twitched a few times, which startled him, because he expected you to be dead by now, and he had to be sure before he left. Because when you were dead, no one would second guess him, because for all everyone knew, he had brought you back home in the future. It's not like you would be able to tell otherwise.

Gisela and Storri both looked up as they were frightened by some rustling nearby, and they waited anxiously to see what had created the sound.

Gisela let out a short scream when suddenly a rabbit hopped out of the bushes, causing Storri to scream even louder. She chuckled through her tears at his lack of bravery, but snapped her head back up when she felt a presence.

'Sihtric?' her eyes grew big, and Storri froze in his place upon hearing the name of the man he had declared dead.

Before Gisela could speak again, Sihtric had shoved her away already, harsher than he had intended, but then again he was not himself, and he fell down to his knees in her spot.

'No, no,' Sihtric whispered, his words trembling as he took your lifeless body in his arms, 'no, please, no, my love,' he whispered again and inhaled sharply.

Gisela watched with horror as Sihtric moved his fingertips over several of your pulse points, but none gave him the feeling he was looking for, and he exhaled loudly.

'Baby, please,' he let out a sob as he caressed your face, 'don't leave me, baby girl, please.'

His breath hitched while Sihtric shivered as he cried, desperately looking for your heartbeat again, which he couldn't find. And he took your face in his hands, desperately kissing your already cold lips, as if it could bring you back.

'Wake up, my little goddess, please, I'm here, I came back to you,' Sihtric choked on his words as he cried desperately, 'I found you. I have found you again, baby, please,' he clenched his teeth and a heart wrenching groan filled the silent, moonlit night when he couldn't make you respond. And that is when Hild had taken Gisela's hand, and had quietly pulled her away, because Hild knew that the amount of violence that was to happen should not be witnessed.

Sihtric's breathing became heavier, and louder as he carefully laid your body back down, and tears rolled down his face as he slowly got back onto his feet. And then his eyes found Storri, who was still frozen, after he just saw how a man silently snapped after having lost everything he cared about. Storri managed to take a step back as he saw Sihtric pull his knife, and he attempted to run when Sihtric patiently walked over to him. But Sihtric had enjoyed the sound of Storri's violent scream as he pinned the seer's shoulder to a tree with his knife.

'You declared me dead,' Sihtric spoke quietly and sternly, 'to the woman who was supposed to be my wife.'

'It- it was an honest mistake!' Storri tried to save himself.

'And you killed her,' Sihtric continued, completely stripped of emotions, 'you killed my wife.'

Storri was too afraid to speak, he could only watch the madman in front of him as his shoulder pulsated with pain.

'Tell me, seer,' Sihtric hissed, turning the knife in Storri's shoulder, 'did you foresee your own death?' 

Storri screamed out in pain as Sihtric stepped back, he licked his lips as he breathed heavily, enjoying the sight of blood which spilled out of Storri's stabbed shoulder. And then Sihtric laughed. He laughed at the cruel joke that was love, and laughing was all he could do for a moment, until his eyes found the bottle of poison Storri had given you, which he picked up and studied.

'Is this it?' Sihtric sniffed as he held up the bottle, 'your poison?'

Storri shook his head, terrified, to which Sihtric chuckled.

'Is this what you killed my wife with?' Sihtric smiled, like a wolf who played with a helpless little rabbit.

'She said she wasn't married!'

'She wasn't,' Sihtric snarled, bringing his fist up as he rushed towards Storri, who closed his eyes in reflex. And Sihtric laughed at Storri, at how pathetic the man was who had killed the woman he loved. The woman who was his world, and his heart as well as his soul.

'She wasn't,' Sihtric said again, and he reached into a little pouch that was attached to his belt, taking out a ring which he held up to Storri, 'but she would have been.'

And Sihtric huffed rapidly a few times as he felt his emotions try to take over, and he stepped away from Storri who watched him with pure fear. Then Sihtric looked at the bottle and pulled the cork off.

'You shouldn't-' 

'How long?' Sihtric interrupted Storri, who tried to warn him.

When Storri didn't answer Sihtric stepped back to him and punched his face hard, causing a few bones to crack in Storri's face as it collided with his rings.

'How long!' Sihtric shouted in the man's face.

'Moment, just moments,' Storri said, panicked, 'it- it will kill you gradually.'

'Does it hurt?'

'No,' Storri said, 'I promise she never felt a thing. It makes you dizzy after a short while, and then you fall asleep, you just never wake up again.'

Sihtric closed his eyes and took a deep breath, which he slowly exhaled. And then he smiled.

'Thank you,' Sihtric said, and before Storri could say another word, Sihtric gulped the remaining poison that was left in the bottle, and after he drank it all he smashed the bottle into Storri's face. Leaving him a bloody and screaming mess.

Sihtric walked back to your body and he crouched down again, ignoring Storri's agonising screams. He cupped your cheeks and pressed his forehead against yours.

'Wait for me, my love,' Sihtric whispered, 'let me find you again,' he smiled at your pale face and kissed your cheek, 'I love you, baby.'

He got back up again and reached for his axe while he walked back to the seer. And as he looked at Storri's face, which was already deformed, his vision became a little blurry. But still, Sihtric swung his axe and landed the blade in between Storri's eyes, splattering Sihtric's face with his warm blood, which he allowed himself to enjoy for a moment. And then Sihtric swung his axe again, and again, and again. Until Storri's face was unrecognisable. And then he struck his axe into Storri's body. Chopping off every limb while each swung became heavier as his vision became more blurry. And when Sihtric couldn't hold his axe anymore, he stumbled backwards as his beloved weapon dropped to the ground. 

And he fell down to his knees one last time, picking you up in his arms as his eyes and body became heavier and his pulse became slow. And Sihtric knew he would not find you in Valhalla, so he never made an attempt to hold any weapon. Instead, he just sat back against a tree, as he cradled your body while his breathing became more quiet. He struggled to take your hands, but when he finally managed to, he pressed the ring he had bought for you in your hand, along with his necklace, and he held your hands in his as he weakly kissed your temple.

'I still,' Sihtric sighed as everything became black, 'want you as my woman.'

*******************

*******************

2023 - November 1.

You were rudely awoken by your alarm, and you grabbed your phone as your heart was beating out of your chest. You checked the time but struggled to focus. You can't remember what you had to drink at that Halloween party, but your head was killing you. When your eyes focused you saw you had multiple missed calls and texts. It seemed as if you had left the party abruptly and no one knew where you went. You quickly texted your friends to say you were fine and at home, you just had a really fucked up dream, but other than that and the headache, you felt fine. 

You locked your phone and rubbed your eyes, and you screamed when you suddenly felt the blankets move next to you as you heard a soft groan, and you snapped your face to where your scare came from.

'Sihtric?' you gasped.

'My little goddess,' he smiled at you, with eyes as heavy as yours, 'where- where am I?' he asked as his focus became a little less blurry and realised he was not covered under furs, but under something lighter, yet warm and comfortable.

You watched Sihtric hum as he cautiously squished your duvet, inspecting the blanket he was buried under. And you needed a moment to take in his appearance. He looked so different from when you had last seen him. His soft short hair had made place for his dark curls, but only on one side of his head, as the other side was shaved. And he had facial hair now? Proper facial hair? And, damn, he looked good. But that didn't make you any less startled at the entire sight of Sihtric, the medieval warrior, in your bed, as he tried to make sense of your mattress now.

'You- you, Sihtric,' you stammered, 'you're in 2023.'

Sihtric looked at you, trying to process what you had said. And you both realised that nothing had been a dream, and that Storri had been a shit seer, but that he didn't kill you, he had actually managed to send you back home. And Sihtric had somehow found you. Again. And you saw how Sihtric's eyes scanned your bedroom, but when he had no idea what all the things were he was looking at, he looked back at you, his safe place. And he opened his mouth to speak.

'Fuck,' Sihtric laughed.