#is living incredibly difficult for anyone else. it seems so easy for everyone else but all I can do is struggle and struggle and struggle

[poptartmochi]

methinks my options are to get better or die

[wandering-winchesters]

hopeless

Pairing: Dean x depressed Reader

Word Count: 3,069

Summary: The reader can feel her depression creeping back in and eventually seeks comfort from Dean, who greets her with open arms.

Trigger Warnings: Depression, anxiety, suicidal ideations,

A/N: This is an incredibly difficult thing to post, I wrote it for myself and wanted to share incase it helped anyone else. I had tears in my eyes as I wrote it. You are not alone. If you are having these thoughts and feelings, please tell someone you love. As always, please let me know what you think ❤️

Masterlist

There are days where I can honestly forget that I have depression and anxiety. There are days where I can almost imagine what it is like to be “normal”. Days where I can breathe easy, where I don’t focus on all of the things that could possibly go wrong, days where the joy is so prominent that it is all that I can focus on. Then there are those days where I can’t fall or stay asleep. I am staying awake until the early hours of the morning and staying asleep until well past noon. Days where going outside is just impossible. I don’t respond to the messages from the people I care about, I don’t communicate to the people I am with. I shut everything and everyone out. 

Today, is one of those bad days. This week has been one of those bad weeks. A culmination of events, compounding, all consuming. That cause me to be pushed off that cliff into depression. On these days, my bed is the only safe place. Even though it is my own mind that is responsible for these feelings, I am the only person who fully understands me. What it feels like to be me and have the thoughts that I do. I am curled up in bed, the playlist on my phone shuffling some of my favorite songs. Even though nothing bad happened today, I am a mess. Depression and anxiety battling within me to come out on top, a constant scream of emotions tumbling through me all at once. I sat in bed, my back pressed against the head board, my knees pulled to my chest and my eyes fixed on the wall opposite my bed. Everything felt hopeless. What’s the point of fighting this battle, every single day? It never seems to get any easier, do I really want to live like this for the rest of my life? Another sixty plus years? I know the answer to that, no. It would be easier to surrender to the darkness and just slip away. Could I really do that? I don’t know. On the good days, no. I could never leave Dean and Sam, the people who saved me five long years ago. I couldn’t leave my family. On these bad days, it’s a thought. An ugly, exhausting and overwhelming thought. 

My eyes wander around the darkened outline of my room, the only light coming from the alarm clock on my nightstand. The white letters illuminated, reminding me just how late into the night it is. 4:23 A.M. The question now is, do I continue to fight the battle of trying to fall asleep, or do I get up and start the day. 

I decide on the latter, clamoring out of my bed and pulling hoodie and a pair of leggings. I stretch my body, exhaustion hanging heavy even though sleep would not come. 

I head out of my room, quietly closing the door behind me. I tip toe through the hallway of the bunker, not needing light to guide me as I know it like the back of my hand. 

When I reach the kitchen, I flip the light on, the familiar surroundings coming into focus before me. I put a new filter into the coffee maker and start the coffee for the morning. Even though I will mostly drink the entire pot myself before the boys ever get up. I glance in the refrigerator, before deciding that I wasn’t hungry. I couldn’t remember the last time I had eaten, yesterday? The day before? I don’t know, but hunger was still evading me. I fill my mug with coffee, perfecting it to my taste and head outside the bunker. I take a seat on the bench that Dean had brought back just for me, knowing that watching the sunsets and sunrises were one of my favorite pastimes. I take a deep breath and enjoy the silence around me, the birds are beginning to wake and their song is springing forth. The moon is low in the sky, the horizon turning from blues to oranges and pinks. Something that on most days, brings me immense joy. However, today, it is a dull pang of happiness. The darkness within me too loud to be distracted by the beauty around me. 

“You’re up early.” I jump, spilling a couple drops of my coffee onto my thigh. I wince as the hot liquid quickly cools against my skin from the outside air. Dean comes to sit next to me on the bench muttering a quiet apology as he sits, his features still dripping of sleep. His hair disheveled and eyes tired. He stifles a yawn and gives me a gentle smile. “Yea, I woke up and just couldn’t fall back asleep.” I lie, taking a sip of my coffee and doing my best to return his smile. If he picks up on my lie, he doesn’t act like it. We sit like that in mostly silence, watching the sunrise. My mind begins to wander once again, drifting through the question I had posed to myself earlier, did I really want to live like this for the next 60 years? The sunsets are beautiful, but my mind is ugly. It’s a daily challenge to get out of bed, something that if you had asked me as a teenager, I thought it would have gotten easier by now. 

“Y/N? Did you hear me?” I hum in response, snapped back to my senses by his gentle elbow into my rips. His eyes fixed on me, concern beginning to creep over his face. 

“Sorry, no. What did you say?” I ask, giving him what I hope to be a reassuring smile. 

“Any grand plans for today?” He asks, but I can tell he isn’t convinced by the smile I gave him. Something that I need to get better at, I don’t need him worrying about me and asking more questions. He has enough on his plate. 

The day drags by slowly, a mixture of getting lost in thought and trying to keep up with the Winchester brothers. They decided to go out for dinner and tried to get me to come along, but I declined. An excuse of not being hungry and that I was tired and wanted to go to bed. Dean, again, was not convinced. His brow creased as he saw himself out of my room. I could feel his unspoken questions hanging heavy between us, but he didn’t speak them aloud. 

I went to bed as soon as they left, even though it was early. The physical and mental exhaustion battling within me for the tallest spot on the podium. I laid in bed, scrolling aimlessly through my phone, not focusing on anything in particular, just trying to make time pass. I quickly shut my phone off and close my eyes when I hear footsteps approaching. I hear a soft knock at my door and I ignore it, not wanting to speak to anyone really. Nonetheless, my door creaks open and Dean quietly calls my name. When he doesn’t get a response he quietly crosses the room and sits on the edge of my bed. His hands gently pull a blanket over me and he leans down to press a kiss to my forehead, before quietly leaving my room. The second he closes the door behind him, I pull my phone back out and continue to scroll aimlessly through lore that I am not even reading. I doze off eventually, into a nightmare filled sleep that only lasts for about thirty minutes. When I wake, my heart is beating against my ribs. 

I glance at the clock on my nightstand for what feels like the millionth time tonight and it is only 2:47 in the morning, but I physically cannot lay here any longer. I repeat the same actions as yesterday morning, leggings, hoodie, quietly out into the hallway, towards the kitchen, turn on the light. I am grabbing the filter for the coffee pot when I freeze, I realize that I can feel someones eyes on me and I spin on my heel to find Dean. He had been sitting at the table in the dark, his arms crossed across his chest, face tired but serious. His eyes are soft, but piercing, focused completely on me. 

“What are you doing up?” I ask, trying to disguise the coffee filter in my hand, scrambling to come up with a good explanation as to why I am up this early. He raises an eyebrow at me, his thumb tugging against his bottom lip before he tucks his hand back under his arm.  “I could ask you the same thing. What is going on with you?” He asks, gesturing for me to take a seat at the table across from him. I don’t. I keep my back pressed against the kitchen counter, my arms defensively coming to rest across my middle. 

“Nothing, just needed water Dean.” I respond, my voice a lot snippier than I intended. He notices, but doesn’t comment on my tone. 

“You need a coffee filter for water? See, I really don’t believe that. Are you going to tell me what’s wrong or do I need to tell you what I think is going on?” He asks once again, accepting that I am not going to sit with him. He kicks his feet up, resting his boots on the seat across from him. He’s settling in for the long haul. I don’t verbally respond to his question, so he continues.

“You aren’t eating. You are isolating yourself. You aren’t here anymore, you’re somewhere else entirely. I had a suspicion that you haven’t been sleeping and this little middle of the night escapade of coffee at three in the freakin’ morning, confirmed that. If you want to pretend you’re asleep when I come into your room, fine. But at least don’t resume watching the same video the second I close your door, I am not deaf.” My cheeks are flushed and I can feel tears pricking the corners of my eyes, but I don’t want to cry. So instead, I allow anger to erupt within me as a need to defend my actions arise. 

“What makes you think I am not eating? I don’t have to talk to you when you come into my room uninvited!” I snap, my hands gesturing wildly as I speak. I expect him to snap back but he doesn’t. He is completely unfazed, his green eyes continue to burn a hole in my own. I shift uncomfortably, the amount of effort it takes to remain angry and not break down in front of him is exhausting. 

“Y/N, sweetheart. I can see it, in every thing that you do. I can see the exhaustion engrained in you, I can see the internal battle that you are fighting. I can tell that you don’t want me to know, that you want to handle this yourself. But, Y/N,I care for you, about you. I want to help you. I see you.” His words hit me like a punch to the gut. I hug my arms tighter against my body, desperately trying to stop this wave of emotion bubbling up within me, but it’s useless. I bite my lip to stifle the sob that leaves my throat, managing to make it the smallest bit quieter. My eyes are trained on the floor tears beginning to overflow.

“Y/N, you don’t have to go through this alone.” Dean speaks again, his words gentle and soft. I allow myself to meet his gaze once again, hot tears streaming down my cheeks. He is on his feet before I can blink, he closes the distance between us in a few long strides. His hands find my body and tug me into his embrace. I don’t hesitate to bury my face in his chest, the fabric of his t-shirt absorbing my tears as they fall. I can’t help but let everything out, the sobs that wrack my body ugly and loud. My eyes are clenched shut, unsuccessfully trying to slow the flow of my tears. His voice is low as he hold me, his hands traveling over my body. His grip on me never wavering, he supports my weight when my knees grow weak. His touch is gentle but firm and reassuring. I didn’t realize just how much I needed him, until it was too late to stop the waves of emotion flooding the space between us. He holds me until my tears slow, my breathing gets a bit easier and my grip on his t-shirt loosens ever so slightly. 

“Talk to me.” He whispers, gingerly pressing a kiss to the crown of my head. I take a shaky breath, gathering my words and debating just how much I want to tell him. I land on everything. I release my grip on him and he takes a step back, enough so he can see me, but still close enough that I can feel his presence. I cross my arms across my chest once again and start to speak. I look down at my feet, unwilling to watch his expression as I speak. 

“I don’t want to do this anymore, Dean. It’s too much. I have gotten three hours of sleep over the last three days. I can’t bear to eat. Every day is a constant battle to just survive, it would be so much easier to just give up. I want to give up. I want to let everything go and just slip away. I don’t want to leave you and Sam, but you don’t need me. No one needs me. It would be so much simpler if I just-“ I stop, unsure if I can actually verbalize my next sentence. I have thought the words many times before, but verbalizing them to the man that I loved more than he would ever know. Could I do that to him? I gather the courage to look at him and I am caught off guard by the sight before me. Dean is silently crying, his eyes fixed upon me. His fingers rush to brush away his tears, he is trying to remain strong for my sake and It sends a fresh wave of guilt through me. This is why I never wanted to express this to him, I wanted to keep it to myself, he shouldn’t have to talk me down from this level of self hatred and depression. 

“I knew that something was tearing you to pieces, sweetheart. I could see it, I could hear it in your voice, but I-I never imagined this. I know it’s hard, but you have to believe me when I say that there is nothing but love for you within me. I would never be okay without you. I’d be a mess, I wouldn’t know what to do with myself if something or someone took you from me. Especially if you took yourself from me, Y/N. I can never lose you. You make my world a brighter place. I love you and I want to spend every day of my life showing you just how much you mean to me.” He’s pleading with me now, closing the distance between us once again. His hands pulling me into a bone crushing hug, his tears now falling onto my clothes. We stay like this for awhile, my sadness slowly fading to just complete exhaustion. My body sags against his, my eyes closing trying to relieve the burn from crying. 

“Dean?” I ask, my voice barely a whisper. “Can I ask a favor?” 

“Anything, sweetheart.” He respond, not relinquishing his hold on me in the slightest. 

“Take me to bed and stay with me tonight?” Dean wholeheartedly agrees, he takes me by my hand and pulls me gently behind him. I follow him, confused when we walk right past my room. He brings me to his, opening the door and closing it once I cross the threshold. He leads me to his bed and climbs in under the covers, he pulls the blankets back and I climb in next to him. His arms wrap around my body, pulling me into him firmly. My head comes to rest on his chest, one of his hands coming to rest on my back, the other on the nape of my neck, his touch calming and reassuring. 

“Thank you.” I whisper and he doesn’t speak, only pulls me closer. “I love you, too Dean. I will fight everyday to be able to spend my life with you.” He exhales sharply and I can almost feel the sense of relief wash over him. I turn towards him, propping myself up on my elbow, enough to look at him. 

I lean towards him, holding my breath, hoping this is what he wants too. I stop, our lips millimeters apart and wait for him to close the distance and he does, our lips crashing together in the most love filled exchange I’ve ever experienced. 

“Promise me you won’t give up on life, Y/N. Please.” He ask, his eyes searching my own and it kills me to see the pain and uncertainty swimming through his. I nod, a small smile forming on my lips. 

“I promise, Dean.” He nods, relief washing over him. He tugs me back against him, my head resting on his chest once again. For the first time in days, my thoughts are silent. The only darkness enveloping my senses is a welcome friend, sleep running towards me at full speed and I welcome it wholeheartedly. My eyes fall shut and sleep takes over my senses, encouraged by the gentle touch of my beloved Winchester. 

While his love could not cure my depression, his love gave me a reason. It gave me hope, in the midst of hopelessness. He held a torch for me on my darkest nights. When I couldn’t stand to fight for my own life, he’d take up that cross. With his help, it got easier. On the nights I couldn’t sleep he’d talk to me until I did. He made me food on days where I couldn’t do it myself. He loved the parts of me that I wanted to hide. He made life worth living. I wanted to live those sixty years I had dreaded facing. No matter the battle, there is always hope. 

tag list: @roseblue373

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[mulledcherrywine]

Jamaica

summary: after a day of recording, the crew spends the night on the beach, giving secrets a chance to get out

“Fuck,” Harry sighed, leaning back in his roller chair and pushing his hands against his face, “feels like we’ve been here all day”

“We have been,” Mitch responded, showing the same tired expression as Harry had.

You were stretched out across the sofa in the back of the studio. You had been helping with a few vocals earlier, and some instrumental, but now - like everyone else - you were completely swamped.

Harry wanted everything to be perfect for his debut, which was understandable, but it was hard to be cooped up in a studio for 12 hours a day when some of the most beautiful ocean you’d ever seen was right outside.

Not to mention, it was growing impossible to keep a friendly composure with Harry while under everyone’s noses but incredibly secretly, you were much more than that. You both agreed you weren’t quite ready to “reveal” yourselves yet, but sometimes it proved to be quite difficult.

“Why don’t we go down to the water tonight?” you posed to the group, “I mean, we always stare down there from the deck, why don’t we actually go?”

The crew perked up at the suggestion, the sleepiness that was in the room seconds before already seeming to melt away.

“Oh god, yes, please, can we?” Sarah chimed.

“But, what about the backing for that one part?” Harry said slightly panicked.

“You need a break, H. Seriously.” Mitch said as he took the ‘to-do’ list from Harry’s hands.

“Do I look that rough?”

“No comment.”

“He’s right, Har,” you spoke, “We should all go down, it’ll be fun.”

He gave you a look only you would recognize, and leapt up from his seat.

“Fuck it, let’s go” he said, picking up his things.

“Atta boy,” Mitch joked.

As the group of you left the studio, Harry leant closely to your ear, the both of you at the back of the group.

“Miss you so much” he hummed.

“Later” you said gently as you discreetly moved a few curls from out of his eyes. If anyone turned around, you though it would be pretty easy to play off as friendly.

Harry’s eyes looked to your lips sadly, then up to your eyes.

“Later” you said again, smiling.

He adjusted the bag on his shoulder, and switched back to being just Harry, and the group of you made your way back to the house for the beach.

—

“Okay, okay, fine. What was your most embarrassing moment in high school then?” Sarah laughed, currently living her dream of playing a big round of ‘Truth or Dare’. Some of the more “mature” members of the crew would never admit to having fun playing a middle school sleepover game, you could tell they were. Plus you all promised to appease them by adding in an alcoholic twist, just for extra fun.

The group of were all down by the water, huddled around a small fire you’d made up. The waves were quiet, and the wind was warm. Harry was sat so close to you, you could’ve leant your head on his shoulder any second. Still, you restrained. It was getting harder, though.

“I’m drinking,” Adam said as he threw back a shot, “None of you knew me in High School, and I could not be more grateful”

A few laughs erupted around the circle. The turn passed on to Adam to ask.

“Alright, i’ll be the brave one who asks the boss” he laughed, “Truth or dare, man”

Harry laughed as he ran a hand nervously through his hair.

“Um, dare. I’ll take the chance”

Adam nodded, thinking for a moment before a menacing look spread across his face.

“Okay, I dare you and y/n to kiss” he said, sounding like an all-too-giddy twelve year-old.

“Adam!” you said, flipping your gaze to Harry.

Harry returned the glance, silently asking with his eyes if you were okay with Adam’s ask.

You nodded subtly.

“Okay,” Harry said quietly, unbreaking his look with you as the both of you leaned in to share a kiss. Not nearly the first time between the two of you, but the most romantic you had ever been in front of anyone.

A few cheers erupted before you both broke apart, trying your hardest to act like you were embarrassed by the act, or at least show that you were very much joking about doing it.

“Well, I don’t think any of us will top that” Sarah laughed.

“Yes, well, we’re winners” Harry bragged, taking a drink.

As commotion rose for everyone to get back to casual conversation and resuming the game, you and Harry faded yourselves from the socialization. He leant himself down to you.

“You okay?” he said.

“Of course,” you replied. You lowered your voice a little more, “I’ve been wanting to kiss you since, like, this morning”

A downturned smile appeared on Harry’s face, his small dimples taking shape under the light of the fire.

“Want to go inside, then? Call it a night?”

“I think if we leave together, H, everyone will know”

“Y’right. But, I think Mitch is about to fall asleep, probably won’t be out here much longer”

You looked over to the guitarist, who was very much half-alive, slumped down on Sarah’s shoulder.

“God, i’m exhausted” you said, hoping to suggest a natural end to the evening, “Might head up soon, yeah?”

Everyone else’s shared their sounds of worn-out agreement, Sarah shaking Mitch gently awake.

“I can stay in your room, then, Har?” you said quietly, hiding yourself a little behind your hand.

“Always” Harry said.

You excitedly turned away on your heels, heading off up the stone path and into the house.

As Harry leant down to help Adam fold up his own things, Adam placed a friendly hand on his shoulder.

“So, how long have you two been something?”

“What?” Harry said shocked.

“C’mon, H. I know you think you’re all cryptic and secretive but I promise you, no one smiles like that after kissing a friend. You were practically hyperventilating, man.”

“I just, you know, felt-”

“It’s okay, I won’t tell anyone else.”

“Really?”

“Swear to it. You deserve it.”

“Thank you, Adam. Really.”

Adam slung his bag over his shoulder, heading after the same path you had hopped down moments before. He gave a cheesy solute to Harry before turning off toward the house.

Harry grabbed his own things and shortly followed suit, heading to get back inside with you.

In his room, you were tucked sleepily into the XL duvet on his bed, looking out to the sea through the window. You felt a heavily gentle hand rest on your hip.

“Hi, lovie” Harry whispered, nestling himself in to spoon you, adjusting his gaze to look at the water with you.

“Hey” you said quietly, reaching to grab his hand.

“So, Adam knows.”

“I figured, we were a bit obvious out there”

“Y’think?”

“We probably should’ve been more resistant” you spoke sadly.

“What if we didn’t have to be anymore, I mean, what if we just told everyone”

“I thought we said it wasn’t what we wanted right now?”

You turned your body around to face him, now holding his face gently, twirling little strands of his hair around your nails.

“I think I want something different now,” he said, eyes moving like he was looking for his thoughts, “I want us to be us”

“I’d like that” you chimed.

“So when should we spring it on ‘em?”

“Tomorrow? Get it done with?”

“Perfect” he confirmed as he settled with the idea of going public.

He pulled you tighter into his frame, tucking the both of you tightly in.

“So I guess,” he started, “that leaves tonight just for us, then, hm?”

“I guess it does.”

[joons]

Do you have any favorite Elvis book recs?

I am very choosy about Elvis books and tend to do a lot of pre-reading on them before I choose to delve into them. I've read excerpts from many of them and have a general sense of what books I'm interested in and which ones I want to skip, but books just aren't my go-to source for information, so I don't feel qualified to give you any firm recommendations. Probably the best source I can suggest is elvis.com.au, which has a ton of interviews and snapshots of various times in his life that will help you get a sense of a huge cast of characters and what stood out to them about Elvis! If you like what anyone has to say there, you can look up more interviews they've done or books they have written.

Here is the main thing I would impart: The closer someone was to Elvis, the less I trust them. That seems crazy! But the reason is because that was the same philosophy that drove how Elvis engaged with his friends. Elvis withdrew inwardly during his lifetime because the people he trusted most tended to sell him out, time and time again--by getting their feelings hurt when he did not give them the exact amount of gifts they thought they deserved, by selling off warped stories about him that filled tabloids with falsehoods, and by sharing his entrusted secrets because they thought it would hurt him. That dynamic has not changed much since his death. It's very difficult to sort out the people who want to make a quick buck off selling a caricature of him to the public vs. the people who genuinely want to preserve his memory and the complicated, incredible person he was (and even the best-intentioned writers think they know more than they do and believe they can speak for Elvis). He is not here to tell his own story, which saddens me, and what fills the void is a lot of inner politicking between the different factions of his friend group that makes me so tired. It is hard to find any book of Elvis memories that doesn't turn inevitably to why the author was his only true friend and never did anything wrong.

I'm not even saying that books written by his associates are all full of lies or anything (well, not all of them, lol); I am saying that they all have a way of spinning things to their own benefit and are often laboring under the mistaken assumption that they know more about the man than anyone else. (The film's way of foregrounding this by allowing the Colonel, the most universally despised of the bunch, to tell his story is a stroke of genius.) Even if the authors believe they have special knowledge, we know Elvis was very hesitant of confiding in anyone, and sometimes he would confide things that weren't true for the sole purpose of seeing what leaked (several people claimed he had bone cancer before he died; several other people said they know for a fact he didn't and that he just wanted to see if the secret "got out"). Can you imagine living that way? To be so trusting of other people and still have to watch your back around everyone? To have to forgive them, not just because you think it's the right thing to do, but because if you don't, you don't think you can ever find someone who just selflessly likes you for who you are? To let yourself get hurt over and over again because you think it's better than being alone?

According to one story, when someone stole a huge amount of money from him, Elvis punched him and then wept, asking why he hadn't just told him what he wanted so that Elvis could have helped him. There is something about being that tenderhearted but not being able to fully give yourself to anyone because it's too dangerous. Man, I-- :(

I think this is why the relationship between Elvis and his fans was (and still is) so reciprocal and so pure. It had the elements of what Elvis wanted after losing his mother: a pure outlet for his love that would not hurt him to give. It's an easy-to-understand, almost transactional relationship, and it was all-consuming in a safe way, which is exactly how he felt about his mother and how she felt about him. I think he enjoyed being able to pour that love out without worrying that there was some hidden part of the deal he wasn't living up to, and he wasn't giving them any piece of himself that would let them take away his dignity if they chose. If you asked for something, he would give it to you--and more. And too many people around him just forgot to ask. Instead, they took it from him. And even the kindest of them are still trying to figure out what he owed them. That's their business, but I don't have to buy their book to help them figure that out. So just be mindful that any memory book you read is going to be half of a slice of the truth and that, sometimes, the people who loved and knew Elvis best are the ones whose names you don't know. Finding those stories is what I love.

So! I most like reading stories from people who worked with him professionally or people who knew him for a slice of time that they can speak very specifically about without diving into grievances or greed or guesswork. People like Steve Binder, who put together the Comeback Special, or some of his co-stars (Ann-Margret has never divulged details about their romance, which makes me respect her SO MUCH), or the Sweet Inspirations. They have less reason to exaggerate or edit, and you can just see his soul shine through in how much energy he put into his work and in how much he cared about each of them as people. It's a great starting point to start with people who did not try to live off him or bring hurt feelings into it. And then you can explore from there. :)

[fairycosmos]

i’m in pain knowing my family, my mom mostly, loves me but they don’t like me. they don’t see me as anything important, they don’t care to know me, they don’t really care if i’m around or if i’m not, they’d only care if i finally killed myself and even then it breaks my heart to think about how they’d remember me. none of them have ever really had good things to say about me and i wonder if that’d change. i want to hope so, i’ve always hoped i was a good person and i feel like everyone else who’s loved me has reminded me i am, but my family never could. they never saw me that way and my mom hated who i was for as long as i can remember, even as a child. i have 4 siblings so it’s hard too because i know it’s not just who she is, it’s something about who i am, and i know her perception doesn’t define me but it never made it easier to live with that.

it’s been harder lately and yesterday she told me how unpleasant i am to live with, and she thinks i’m living here to make her miserable to make up for my miserable childhood (lol) so i left her alone, i didn’t see her the rest of the day but i just saw she went to the store and bought my favorite fruit )): things like that make it all harder to understand, and i feel guilty because i don’t feel like i deserve anything from anyone, despite knowing it’s not all my fault. i wish i could fix everything. life has seemed sadder than ever the past couple months.

+ i just sent an ask about my mom buying me my favorite fruit n it was just a vent but i kinda wanted your insight on that part of it, it seems like smth you’d understand?? only sending this one to let you know it was “important” (i know you say to do that if you miss it) just in the sense that i’m looking for someone to talk about it a bit i guess idk this is just word vomit now but i love youuu n thank you for reading bby hope you have a good day 💘

hi love, i'm really sorry you have to put up with this sort of thing from your own family. i know that living with this sort of dynamic from those closest to you, esp during your formative years, can genuinely fuck up your sense of self-wroth and your perception of what you deserve, and i don't want to minimize that by offering platitudes or easy solutions. but i did want to say that the way your family treats you is not a reflection of you, and they do not get to dictate whether or not you're a good person or whether or not you're loveable. obviously, it's completely natural to want to be truly seen and appreciated by them, and it's totally understandable that not having access to that bond is incredibly painful. it's an incredibly difficult thing to have to learn to live with, and it often makes adulthood even harder than it already is. but just because they're not able to be a healthy support system for you, doesn't mean you don't deserve one. doesn't mean you've done anything wrong. and it might feel like bullshit for a long time, trying to convince yourself of that, because maybe your self-esteem isn't the highest due to everything you've been through - but it's true. knowing that doesn't make it easier, but grounding yourself in that truth whenever you begin to spiral into self-hatred will keep you from drowning in it. and i'm not trying to diminish how hard this must be for you, because it is absolutely not fair that you've had to live your life feeling like your family wouldn't even care if they lost you - that is incredibly sad to hear, and i'm so sorry. it sounds like your mother has issues that stem back from before you were born, honestly, and the fact that she could raise one of her kids to feel that way is indicative of her emotional immaturity more than anything. i think the people who have loved you how you deserve to be loved were able to do that because you ARE a wonderful person who is worthy and deserving and good.

anyway, i know you wanted my thoughts on the second half of this, i just wanted to be honest with you ab this message. the bit about the fruit - i do understand that, a lot. i think a lot of people who have complex relationships with their mothers do, and that's what makes it all so hard. it would be much easier if we could just say we hate them and move on, wouldn't it? but there's so much between a parent and a child that makes it impossible to do that, in many cases at least. i think it's important to acknowledge that numerous things can be true at once while trying to process your feelings for her. it's true that she hasn't treated you very well, it's true that she cares for you and your wellbeing deeply (though not in a way that you may always understand, and not that that excuses any of the shit shes put you through), it's true that you don't feel like she appreciates you for who you are and you're mad at her for that, it's true that you crave recognition from her at the same time. these emotions might seem contradictory and confusing but they're all just a part of the nuance and of the complicated relationship you have with her. it's entirely possible to be grateful for the fruit and still acknowledge that you deserve better than this. which you do, and it's alright if you can't quite believe that right now, but i hope you get the chance to work on it w a professional at some point so you're able to start viewing the situation from a place of support for yourself, and not from a place of disdain. your brain is partially a product of how you were raised and so you can't always trust what it feeds you, you know? anyway, i'm sorry this got long and i'll quit rambling now, but yeah - i really do get this and you're truly not alone in it. if you ever need a friend or anything, give me a message. love u love angel and please take care of yourself. mwah x

[belphgr]

Day 32 + 33 | 15.3.2023 +16.3.2023

WC: 702

Prompt: Inspired by that one Bob’s Burgers scene.

Yuu goes by he/they pronouns

Alice goes by she/her

-

Yuu turned left and right, looked up and down and still didn’t have a clue where his friends from Twisted Wonderland had gone. Not to mention the airport was incredibly crowded at this time of year, navigating through the hoards of people- saying sorry every 10 seconds for accidentally bumping into several people as he was rushing was getting tiring. 

Ugh, they knew it would be a bad idea to bring a bunch of his friends to a ‘field trip’, but Crowley insisted. Thank goodness Yuki funded the trip, else he’d be living with debt over his head for the next 20 years or more. They were just about to give up and rest for a minute before they saw Alice walking towards them.

“Did you find them?” she asked, slightly out of breath from running around. Yuu’s grateful she’s here to help, it makes things a lot easier.

They sigh, “No, sorry. I told them to stay put.”

“Apparently they don’t like you enough to listen. Why are you even friends with them, they’re horrible,” she mumbled. Yuu blinked. Alice could tell she meant to say that in her head, but he couldn’t just brush it off.

“You don’t like them?” They understand, in a way. Their friends can be… difficult.

She looks shocked for a moment, before finally admitting it. Albeit angrily.

“No, I don’t! You try so hard for them every moment you’re around them, and they don’t show they appreciate it at all and they never get along and they get into fights all the time- leaving you to clean up the mess and make everyone apologise. It drives me insane! You deserve better because you’re like- the bestest friend anyone could ever ask for and they don’t value that.” 

She was panting slightly by the end of it, she had clearly been holding this outburst for a while.

Yuu was honestly a bit confused. Yes, his friends could be tiring but he had never felt unappreciated. Before they were finally able to go home- the feeling of loneliness stemmed from thinking that they were never going to see their family again.

Their friends showed they cared in subtle ways. Ace acting like he didn’t want his food and giving it to Yuu so they could eat more. Jamil making their favourite food even if all the other dishes weren’t remotely the same. Azul letting them do homework and fall asleep at Monstro Lounge, giving them a discount that he claims he gives to other customers as a favour. None of them showed with words because god forbid anyone here is honest about their feelings, but they proved that they really did care.

But he also understands Alice’s frustration. She needed to be told things outright to believe it- there was no beating around the bush with her. You had to tell her straight to her face to show her you were being honest. Yuu respects it, there’s little to no miscommunication with her and it’s easy to talk seriously. So he knew he had to be straightforward.

“You don’t like my friends.”

“No, I don’t.”

“That’s fine. They can be pretty hard to love at times-”

“Love?!–”

“Let me finish, Alice.” He paused, and she ceased what she was going to say. “Yeah, they can be pretty hard to love at times, but I do anyway. And I know it doesn’t seem like they do much for me in front of a lot of people, but they show they care in their own way. In private, y’know?”

“I know that everyone shows their affection differently, but you just-” she sighs exasperatedly. “You always seem so tired around them.”

“I always look tired.”

“But it’s different than your usual tired.”

“I’ve just been pretty busy.”

“Because of them?”

“Yes, okay. They do keep me busy sometimes, but I was talking about school and moving for the most part.”

She still didn’t look very convinced, but she knew there was no fighting against it.

“...If they do ever get to the point where they become emotionally draining, I’ll leave, okay? And I promise I’ll tell you.”

“I… well, alright. I’ll hold you up to that.”

Yuu smiles. “Thanks, Alice.”

[usahealthguides]

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[marimelwrites]

📔 (ALL OF THEM)

From this Diary Entry meme here!

All of the pairs are under the cut! Honestly, this was actually fun to write. Hopefully you enjoy reading them as much as I enjoyed writing them all. Also, they may fall in various parts of their timelines! Have fun reading this @hcllriot.

Abraham & Rowan:

"Have you ever met a person who understands your love of one thing in particular? And then you totally fall for that person but don't know how to tell them? Because that's what happened to me. I met Abraham on one of my many trips for work. Seeing as I do photography, and it takes me everywhere, he does his whole travel vlogging thing. It had us cross paths, and honestly? It was one of the best things to happen to me. The thing is, I'm afraid that if I tell him that I've fallen for him, that he'll just disappear on me and then I won't see him again. I know, selfish, but... that's where we are. I'm selfish sometimes, and I can admit it. He just gets it, my love of traveling. My need to see the world. I don't have to explain that to him. It's just... more fun when he's there with me..."

Can & Madeleine:

"Well, I think I've finally done it. I've made a fool of myself in front of Can at one of my favorite places to go. Sometimes, I wish that I knew how to be more... normal. It's just that I didn't have a normal childhood, or really, a normal life at all. The truth is I don't make friends easily, I keep to myself, and the living things I get closest to tend to be the animals I work with because they don't ask me to be anything that I don't know how to be. They don't care about how socially awkward I might be, or if I say the wrong things. The thing is that Can is... he's comfortable talking to people, he's always been nice to me. I usually feel at ease around him, and that's difficult to do with me when it comes to men. In turn, he reminds me of the small things about my Turkish heritage that I remember and love.

I feel drawn to him. I just keep going back, and I like going back, even though I don't go for what everyone else goes for. Karaoke bars include two things I won't do, singing in public... I sing, but not in public. Then there's drinking, and I don't do that either. It's just that I like the atmosphere. I like seeing people having a good time. It's nice to go and talk to Can, even if it's a short conversation. But there I was, asking for tea, and so embarrassed I couldn't even look at him. Honestly, I'm an idiot. Never let me go around someone that I like, or think is attractive, because I will inevitably make myself out to look like a fool. If he ever wants to talk to me again, it'll be a miracle. I should probably avoid his bar for a while... maybe forever. God, that seems childish. Have I mentioned I'm an idiot? I really wish he wasn't so easy to like, or so handsome. Maybe then I might forget all about the stupid things I said, or did, around him. Maybe he'll forgive me for that..."

Ceren & Taner:

"That's it. She's perfect. Everyone in my family always talks about how Adem has such a sweet partner, a soulmate, she's so nice and perfect. They didn't think I'd ever find anyone because I can be a royal pain in the ass. Well, surprise! I found her, and she's perfect. The family hasn't met her, but I'll bet she is actual competition for how sweet Adem's girl is. Either way, there isn't a bad thing anyone can say about Ceren. If I'm being honest, I never thought I'd find someone that I wanted to spend my whole life with. Not to mention, I never thought I'd find someone who actually has the patience to deal with me, but I'm grateful. I don't know if Ceren will actually stick around, I can only hope. I'm doing my best to try not to fuck it all up.

I wish I could explain just how incredible she is. Looks aside, and believe me, she is gorgeous, there's just something about the way she looks at the world. The way she treats other people. The way she smiles. I'm getting sappy. I think I'm turning into a simp for her, and honestly? I'm not even a little bit embarrassed by that fact. If I could give her the damn moon, I would do it. Anything to get her to smile at me, and see me as someone she wants in her life forever. I swear I'm going to marry this girl."

Damian & Emery:

"I'm worried and I know it's my own fault. That's all my own doing. A long time ago, I swore that I would never fall in love with anyone. I swore that I would never let anyone close enough to hurt me and ruin me like my parents ruined each other before they got divorced. For the longest time, I did just that. It worked. I ended relationships right before feelings started and everything worked out perfectly. Then, I met Damian. The thing is, out of all the people that I've ever been with in the past, he's literally the one person who I should have avoided more than anyone else. If there were ever a neon sign that red RUN BEFORE YOU GET HURT in human form, it would be him.

The problem is... he's the one person on earth that I absolutely don't want to run from. He's the one person that I am willing to let completely destroy me just because I want to stay. It's too late now, I already have feelings for him. Even if I did walk away from him, it would hurt. So, I choose to stay. I'm just worried that I won't recover from the pain. I don't know what it is about him... he's just... it's complicated, and I don't know everything about him. He keeps people at arms length, but I want him. Not for bragging rights, or to say that I was the only person who managed to get him to open up, no. I want want him to be with me. To choose me. To want me too. I want him to open up and love me. I'm just worried that won't happen. Despite that, I still stay. I won't leave him. I can't leave him. I don't want to leave him."

Emre & Caria:

"Today I met the most infuriating, handsome, and yet fun man in the world. One would think that after a failed marriage, I would stay away from men. He sort of came into my life unexpectedly. I was trying to enjoy my life, my freedom, and here come Emre. I shouldn't be surprised that I would meet someone who makes me so annoyed, but also makes me laugh at the same time. Maybe it's the fact that he can tease me and make me laugh that intrigues me. I'm used to someone simply berating me. Instead, I find that we have banter that will go on back and forth. I wonder if he secretly hates me, I mean, we did only just meet for the first time but who knows.

Maybe we'll keep in touch, and see each other regularly, and he'll stay in my life. Then maybe we'll get to know each other really well. I would like that. I need someone with his energy in my life. It's a nice change from what I had before Emre showed up in my life. I don't know if I should tell him, maybe not. Either way, a more gorgeously annoying man has never existed. I really hope that I see him again."

Ezgi & Pierce:

"I was thinking that it's time to introduce Ezgi to my parents. I've invited her to some of my races, but I've never had her meet my parents. I don't know why, honestly, my parents would love her. Then again, my parents are super easy to get along with. They love everyone, just people who treat their only child well, get extra love. They would basically welcome her into the family with open arms, and then beg her to marry me. Personally, I just think it's because they want me to give them some grandkids, but that's just my assumption. I love my parents to pieces, though, and seeing them with Ezgi would be amazing, I know it.

The thing is, if I introduce her to my parents, that's basically my way of saying I want her in my life forever. And I do want her in my life forever, but is that going to freak her out? I don't know. Hopefully not. Man, I really love her, though. I can see it, the whole thing, our life. Her supporting my racing, me supporting her in anything she wants to do in life. Her as a permanent part of my family, and my parents spoiling her with attention and everything. I see it all with her. I'll just have to hope that she sees all of that with me too."

Jordan & Isolde:

"Of all the people for me to end up flirting with, and liking, it had to be this giant man who fights for a living. Here I am, this petite little thing, who doesn't know a thing about fighting, wanting to spend all her free time with a man so opposite in so many ways. I like him so much, though, that I don't even care. Honestly? I would go to every single fight, if he wanted me too, no matter how hard it would be for me to see him get hit. Maybe that's a lot too soon. Who knows where we'll go from here, and who knows what he wants out of us. Is there even really an us? I mean, I hope that there is, but I don't want to push my luck, really. I'll hope for the best, and enjoy the ride as it goes. In the mean time, can we just take a moment to appreciate that Jordan is.... wow, he's attractive. Men should not look as good as he does. It should be illegal. HE should be illegal."

Kerem & Emine:

"I love him. I know that I do. I was helpless where Kerem was concerned. I think I was always meant to love him. I'm not sure that he'll let me love him, though. He's so set on taking everything on alone. He's worried about other people hurting because of all he's gone through and has to go through, but he doesn't realize that sometimes people choose to endure the pain because the beauty of loving someone is worth the pain that can come with it. He is worth it all. I want him to let me help carry any of his burdens. I want him to let me help him feel less fear, worry, concern, whatever he might feel. I'm stronger than he thinks, and no matter what happens he doesn't need to feel guilt for whatever happens. I would much rather be at his side than on some sideline without any right to knowledge of how he's doing.

How can I tell him that no matter what happens I will always be grateful for him being a part of my life? He has a beautiful soul, he truly does, and I admire his need to protect others. I admire his incredible strength. However, I want to share my strength. I want to share my love, my care, my happiness, all of it. It doesn't matter if he doesn't let me in, I would feel his loss either way. So, in the end, wouldn't it be better to love him completely and be loved in return than not at all? I have never felt this level of love for anyone. It happened so slowly, gradually, but with the strength of a tidal wave that I couldn't have prevented it from taking me away if I had even wanted. And I didn't want to stop it, really. I love him, and I would proudly love him for the rest of my life."

Metin & Mediha:

"I'm so scared. There are things happening in my life, demons from my past that have returned, and I'm terrified of what will happen to me. I'm terrified that something horrible is going to happen and that this time I won't get away from it. Yet, despite all this fear, the one person who comes to mind that makes me feel safe is Metin. I'm not sure what he would think of this. I don't know why I feel so safe with him, but I do. I would like to think that he cared so much for me that he would want to protect me, but nobody has ever wanted to protect me from anything. I've always had to take care of myself. I could never assume that Metin would want to do what nobody else has ever wanted to do.

I know that part of that is because I've always liked him. I've liked him since the moment I first laid eyes on him. Serkan introduced us, and I knew that first instant when he took my breath away that I would never be the same again. I've returned to his deli countless times simply for the chance to see him, and be close to him for just a moment. That was all before my life got complicated once again. Now, any hope that perhaps some day he might feel for me what I feel for him, and any hope that he might see me as more than just a regular customer has been lost. Nobody could want someone so broken as I am. He deserves much better than me. Is it terrible that I still feel this small sliver of hope that maybe... just maybe, he might learn to love me? That he might be able to protect me like nobody else has before?"

Özgür & Catia:

"Seeing him again was like a shock to my system. Özgür... once, I had thought I was in love with him. I thought for sure that someday we would find a way to one another and we would be together forever. I had this silly little love story in my head where he was concerned. Then life took us in different directions. He went off to do the things he's doing, I went off in a whirlwind of pageants, and training, then modeling and traveling. Now, humanitarian efforts in between modeling gigs around the world. I never thought that life would eventually bring us back together, and yet, it did.

I think, even more shocking than seeing him again, was the fact that I felt his presence so strongly. All of those old feelings, and the dreams I'd had all came rushing back and I felt like that teenager I had been the last time we saw each other. I could have sworn that I'd outgrown those feelings. I'd had other men as distractions over the years, but somehow, seeing Özgür again, I realized that none of them compared. It seems so silly now. I sound like some young, naive, lovesick girl. I can't help it, he was always the one I thought I would end up with for the rest of my life."

Polin & Ilya:

"Ever since Polin entered my life, I have started to think of ways to change my life. I'm no longer thinking of a life alone, but a life with someone else. She is so strong, I think if anyone could handle the dangers that might come along with trying to have me exit this life that I was born into, it would be her. It seems crazy to me that I would find someone who urges me to rearrange my life for the sake of a safer and more peaceful one. I don't want to ask her to live a life with me, watching me commit the crimes that I have been trained to do. I wouldn't want her to accept me living this life for the rest of our time together. She would never be safe, and I would always fear for her safety, even if she has a chance at keeping herself safe.

I make this vow now. For Polin, I will finally find a way to get myself out of this life of crime. I will find a way to get us out of this safely, and be able to live a peaceful life on what money I have acquired. We would never have to work again. We could truly live multiple lifetimes on the money I have inherited and earned, but that's not what's truly important anyway. I want her to be safe. I want her to be happy. I want her to be both of those things with me. If she chooses me, then that's what I will do. I will give her everything she deserves."

Remington & Eren:

"If anyone would have told me that I would find someone who would fascinate me, who would make me want to learn more about them and spend as much time with them as possible, I would have called them a liar. I thought that I was relegated to the attractive man with a lot of money who women would only look to for one thing alone. Sex. It's what I'm good at, and women seemed to only ever look at me superficially. Of course, then I met Remy. From the first moment I met her, she never gave me the impression that she wanted sex from me. We talked, and I realized what I had been missing in interactions with countless women before. I felt like a regular person. I felt like someone who was more than what I had to offer. I wasn't a prize, I was an actual human being.

The thing is, I want to spend all of my free time with her. I know that she has lost her sight, and that she has a dog to assist her with that, but I don't care about that. She is still... god, she's beautiful. She's incredible. She's stronger than I think she will ever give herself credit for. I want to take care of her, and not because I pity her, because I know she can go through this life without me and be fine. I want to take care of her because I want to love her and maybe she can trust me enough some day to do so. I'm going to prove it to her. I'm going to be there for her, and show her that just because she can't see like she used to, that doesn't change anything. Not for me. For the one person on this earth who treats me like a human with emotions, I will give her the world if she lets me."

Roman & Cassandra:

"I wanted to scream at him. I'd found myself in so many places where I thought I would die, and this was just another one of those places. It's weird, I was so calm in that moment when I came face to face with him. It seemed like the world stopped, though. I know that it was likely just me. My world, this life that I ended up in and built around me, it never did do well for feelings, or emotions. I don't really believe in love at first sight. At least, I didn't. I'm absolutely stupid for seeing Roman and thinking... this stubborn, asshole of a man... is exactly who I want. I'd been happy in my life alone. Happy without ever knowing what that felt like. I was happy never knowing that there was a man in this world whom I could possibly want to be with. Then, here's this perfect stranger, and I automatically regretted going there to ask for his help. Maybe I'll be lucky and I'll die, and I won't have to go through life knowing that I probably won't ever see the man I want to be with ever again. It'll be better that I don't live to feel this little bit of emptiness. Dammit. I hate him for this. I hate fate. I hate human emotion. Why him, of all people?"

Zuri & Maddox:

"I hope that she knows she is the first person I have allowed in my life, aside from my twin, since the one person who ruined my life. I don't regret letting her in. I don't think that Zuri will hurt me like what happened in the past. It's strange, though, I'd forgotten what it felt like to care about someone so deeply. I'd forgotten what it felt like to want to shield them and protect them from the various things in this world that might harm them. It's fortunate that she never sought my wealth, that she seemed happy with my attention, and happy with me treating her well. God, the fact that I'd been so horrible to her and she still forgave me for it? I can't even begin to find the words to tell her what that means to me. She deserves all that is good, and I hope that she'll continue to let me do that for her. I never thought that I would say this... but she makes me incredibly happy, and she doesn't even have to try. I think if there's one thing I'll be able to be proud of, it would be gaining the love of this woman."

[underscorewriting]

Deepest longing

Ivar Ragnarsson x Reader

Warnings: fluff

1495 Words

It was a cold stormy day in Kiev, everything was covered in snow. It was beautiful. A smile was on her face as she stood outside the palace of the prophet Oleg, not yet wanting to go inside, even though the coldness was already sinking into her bones. Closing her eyes she inhaled the scent of the snow. "Sometimes it's very hard to understand you." A familiar voice said walking up to her, making her smile grow bigger. "I don't see how, Ivar." Her eyes opened to see the freezing man in front of her. 

A soft giggle escaped her. before she turned around walking inside, brushing the snow out of her hair. "For a viking you seem to be freezing an awful lot." The man rolled his eyes, having a playful smirk on his lips. His eyes trained on her face as she told him about something she found out the day before, his fingers going through her hair to get rid of some snow she didn't notice, making her blush slightly as she looked down, continuing to walk into the room were everyone sat. 

"Are you okay? It must be difficult to walk in the snow with your crutch..." She said quietly, hoping not to offend him in any way. "I'm used to it by now, crawling in the snow was much more unpleasant." He gave her a tight lipped smile, before walking in before her. "Ivar." Oleg chuckled, offering to warm himself by the fire and to drink something, fully ignoring her presence as she sat down opposite Ivar, next to prince Igor. Katia however noticed her, not liking her one bit. 

"There is nothing to do, except to look forward to the spring." Oleg said with a sigh. "I wouldn't say so, Prince Oleg. There's a beauty that winter beholds-"She started with a smile only to get interrupted by him. "But life goes on. We must endure the winter. Still we must amuse ourselves." He finished and Igor leaned forward to talk, using his puppet to mimic what he said. "I want to skate on frozen ponds. I want to cut the throat of the first pig. And I want to hang the mistletoe for the christ-mass." Ivar smiled at him as he took a drink. 

The girl smiled at Igor whispering to him, that she'd definitely go with him as soon as she could. "And I want to bathe naked in a hot spring," Katia said, stealing glances at Ivar as she did so. "With hot steam rising, but ice and snow all around." She smirked slightly looking between Oleg and Ivar. "And my breath, will be a geyser, and my soul will bathe there and slake it's thirst." She held eye contact with Ivar, a smirk still on her face as he looked at her. "And you, dear Ivar, the future king of all Scandinavia, what would you like?" 

Ivar started to smirk slightly. "I would like to walk." Oleg chuckled, but the girl felt a kind of sadness. He could walk, in her eyes he was fully capable of doing so, he worked harder than anyone else for it. "That would be a miracle." The prophet made fun of Ivar for wishing for something like that, he angered him. She lowered her head as he talked about the miracles their god did, saying that healing a cripple like him would be easy. 

Turning away from Oleg, Ivar turned towards her, noticing how quiet she was the whole time. "What about you, what do you long for?" His eyes felt intense on her, making it hard for her to breath,a small smile forming on her face as she lowered her gaze before looking back into his eyes with the same intensity. "I want freedom, adventure... I want to live my life to the fullest, I want to learn love and pain. I want to see so much, with still having not seen enough. To feel like I should be satisfied with what I saw and learned, but I just couldn't because there's so much more out there..."  His lips were parted slightly, a small smirk on his face as he studied her face, the glow it held, the twinkle in her eyes as she spoke. He always thought she was attractive, how could he not? She was blessed by Freyja, everyone could see it. 

Katia rolled her eyes. "Well that seems incredibly boring..." She leaned back as the girl lowered her gaze, feeling foolish for her longing. "I don't think it does. It sounds exciting, like a longing that's worth sharing." Her eyes met his, his deep blue ones showing sympathy as he gave her a soft smile with a gentle nod, before turning his attention back to the prince. "What about you, Prince Oleg? What is it that amuses you? What is it that you really want?" 

Her mind still thought of Ivars eyes being  fixated on her, as she drank. Prince Igor got up after a while, pulling her with him. "We must go ice skate now!" She giggled softly as she got up. "Ivar must join us!" He said pulling her to Ivars side as he watched them smiling. "Well if I must." He chuckled softly before getting up, grabbing his crutch. "Go get ready, Prince Igor. Ivar and I will wait outside." She smiled after him as he ran to get changed. As Ivar was putting his many layers back on, she smiled slightly putting her own back on, before walking outside with him.

"I have a feeling that Katia doesn't like me much." She said with a small knowing smile. "Huh? Oh, I wouldn't be able to tell."  His voice was dripping in sarcasm. "Maybe her longing is also worth sharing." A soft giggle escaping her as she turned around after walking a bit, seeing him roll his eyes. "Lighten up, we'll go ice skating with the prince." Even though he knew he had to stay on the side, watching them, he felt some kind of joy, seeing her so excited for it. Giving her his best fake excited smile, she couldn't help but laugh. "You're a very mean man, Ivar." He watched her laugh and couldn't help but to feel the longing she described. 

Igor came outside with two pair of ice skates, handing one of them to the girl, before leading them to the place he wants to skate at. She talked quietly with Igor in front of Ivar and he felt jealous at the little boy, him being able to listen to her voice in this moment. He longed for it. A sudden realization hit him, his biggest longing wasn't to walk anymore. He was longing to  hear her voice, her laugh. His longing turned into her in just a glimpse of an eye.

He didn't realized they reached the place as she touched his arm softly, giving him a soft smile, seeing how he was lost in his thoughts. "Are you okay?" He nodded towards Igor , who was putting his ice skates on already. "Don't worry about me, go amuse the prince." A small smile played at the corner of his mouth as he watched her change as well, walking up to see them better. Leaning against the railing, he shot them occasion smiles. 

He watched them ice skate together, his thoughts going to how she would look with kids. His kids. He stopped himself before his mind could go any further. "Ivar! I think I found another longing that was worth sharing!" She giggled spinning , carefully so she wouldn't fall. Igor laughed with her. "You're going to be the death of me..." He mumbled quietly to himself, showing her his most gentle smile. "You're a very mean woman, for making a fool out of me." She stuck her tongue out at him, continuing to skate. 

As the day turned into night, they walked to her home. "You really didn't have to accompany me on my way home, Ivar. I know how much pain you must be in due to the cold." He looked down at her confused. "How do you know, I never told you?" She smiled apologetic. "I noticed it... When it got colder you were barely outside, even today you had a hard time..." No one besides his mother ever cared enough to notice things like that.

A  smile formed on his face as he nodded. "Today I told that my longing was to walk. I believe it changed..." He whispered again, locking eyes with her. "What do you mean? How could it-" He placed a hand on her cheek. "You became my biggest longing, to see you smile, to hear your laugh or even your voice. It made me realize it." His eyes were intense, she could barely hold the eye contact. A smile forming on her face as she lowered her gaze before looking back up. 

"Then I believe we, again, share the same longing, Ivar." 

[my-darling-boy]

Genuinely asking, isn't self-diagnose with a condition kind of dangerous? Because legitimizing self-diagnosing opens a door to many malicious people who would want to exploit the fact they can self-diagnose? And in turn, make the space of autistic people worse?

Was going to skip this, but I’m writing a LONG response because I’m VERY exhausted with the amount of misinformation I see on this “self dx is dangerous” take, so buckle up and allow me to info dump.

Recently, authentic_autism_advocacy, an Instagram account run by a supposed medically diagnosed autistic woman was discovered to be a non-autistic woman, Connie Manning, posing as a medically diagnosed autistic person to spread hate and anti-self diagnosing speech. In reality, she is a neurotypical mother who regularly uses her autistic son for clout; she also turned out to have a hand behind CalmWear, a brand of sensory compression products designed for disabled people. Not only had she been spewing hatred towards other autistic people, she had been accusing well known AFAB autistic tiktokers like beckspectrum of faking being autistic and threatening self diagnosed autistics and saying they are a danger to the community, and engaging in other incredibly discriminating behaviour. Yes, she herself was a neurotypical person posing as a medically diagnosed autistic to perpetuate hateful rhetoric about self diagnosed people and used her voice to speak OVER autistic folk for financial gain and exploitation of autistic people, including her own son. If you want to read this roller coaster of a story, an autistic person wrote an entire article on it with tons of screenshots and sources.

So let me make one thing clear to you.

The purpose of actually, genuinely self diagnosing is not done to attract attention or to parade around and exploit other autistic people. Self diagnosed autistic individuals have recognised due to difficult life circumstances, financial hardship, bigotry and stigma within the medical/legal world, being a minor, lack of insurance, lack of proper access to safe care facilities, being denied assessment due to incompetent or biased practitioners, and/or any other obstacle that they may temporarily or permanently be barred from diagnosis. Self diagnosis does NOT instantly mean a person is posing for clout, nor does it indicate a person is trying to wring money from assistance services or exploit other autistics. And nts who use self diagnose with intentions of harming the community? That’s NOT self diagnosis, that’s abuse of something meant to aid people blocked from medical care or financial means to that care. All we can do for autistic people, no matter who we perceive them to be, is treat them the same way we would any other autistic person. Because the moment you start deciding by your own book who deserves respect and who doesn’t, you’ll be on a slippery slope to locking out thousands of autistic people from the community. If it’s discovered a person like Connie is literally abusing the system of self dx to intentionally mislead the community, by all means, we must hold them accountable. But you cannot simply go about granting and revoking access from people just because someone lacks a diagnosis or doesn’t fit your idea of what being autistic looks like, especially if it’s based on stereotypes.

Moral of the story? Isn’t it ironic how anti-self dx people will 100% believe a user who claims to be medically diagnosed but shows no “written proof” of it, yet always demand written proof from a self dx person? It’s almost like even anti-self dx people can’t tell the difference between someone who is medically diagnosed autistic and someone who isn’t. Well, that’s because they can’t. While there might be common traits, autism has no set model, it is a spectrum, no autistic person is alike; Policing self diagnosed people about their self diagnosis isn’t a form of protecting the community. It’s a form of gatekeeping. If you find yourself granting instant acceptance, without asking for proof, to a person insisting they are medically diagnosed like this neurotyical mother, but then prohibit self dx people from entry entirely on the grounds of not showing proof of medical assessment, you are upholding a double standard. This is why policing autistic people’s diagnosis, self or not, is inherently useless.

So here’s the thing... instead of asking people to stop self diagnosing, what you should instead be asking yourself is, “Why do people self diagnose? What kind of medical system could possibly be in place where people feel they need to resort to self diagnosis rather than get an actual diagnosis?”

Well, it’s mainly common knowledge among most of the autistic community that diagnosis is NOT easy to come by.

One of the main reasons why people cannot get a diagnosis is due to financial/insurance reasons. It’s reasonable to estimate that by the end of 2020 almost 30 million Americans alone were without health insurance. I’ve heard costs out of pocket for an autism diagnosis are between $500-$6000. If a person or a family cannot afford health insurance—which by the way on average is around $5,400 a year for a single person and $13,800 for a family here—where are they supposed to pull out $6,000 to get screened?

You might be asking, “Well aren’t insurances supposed to cover disability?” Sure, there are options for disability care through health insurance—not even going to get into that—but like a lot of things in the US, this is a severely flawed system. A lot of private health insurance will stop or limit coverage for an autism diagnosis or assistance services once a person reaches 18 to 21 years old. In most states, coverage has a higher chance of being denied to autistic adults coming with the added age cap or ONLY covering ABA, an abusive, manipulative “therapy” used to force social compliance and trait suppression on autistic people. The fact that ABA, a conversion therapy, is covered, but little else, shows exactly what insurance companies think of autistic people: they’ll only cover us if we want to learn to be “normal”. This can leave many undiagnosed autistic adults who cannot afford analysis, insurance, or safe assistance services with nowhere to turn. If I was not on my parents’ insurance, there is NO WAY I would EVER be able to afford a diagnosis. I don’t have $2,000 lying around. The MONEY ALONE would prohibit me from getting a diagnosis, no matter how many autistic traits I presented.

When I was going through this system years ago to start a diagnosis, I was shocked to find no therapist within three hours of me was accepting adult patients. “Up to 18 only” their websites would say. And in the event I had found one (1) that accepted me as a then 20 year old with X insurance, and that person refused me diagnosis, I would be out of options unless I planned a 5 hour drive which may have also led me to another biased screener. A person seeking self financed assessment can waste thousands of dollars therapist hopping.

People will say, “Well I live in X place, and where I come from, it’s covered!” Well the reality is that everyone in the world does not live where you live. It’s not realistic to assume everyone is in the same position as you or your family to afford care or access the same resources as you. When you say, “Just go out and get a diagnosis! It’s not that hard!”, understand you are speaking from your personal vantage point where screening may be easily accessed or easily covered/is free OR you have no personal knowledge of what that process is like yourself.

The second thing that bars a ton of people from being diagnosed is the fact that when autism was first discovered, its research was HEAVILY centered on white, cis, heterosexual men. The idea that autistic people are ONLY cis, white, heterosexual men carries on to this day. If you are an outlier to this stereotype, your chances of being misdiagnosed with something else or refused diagnosis skyrocket because so-called “professionals” don’t know how to observe traits in any other person besides a cis, white, heterosexual man, and refuse/fail to recognise the endless ways in which a person can be autistic. ALL the time I hear how AFAB people will go in to get screened only to find out their screener does not believe AFAB people can be autistic, because yes, sexism and anti-lgbtq+ ideas play a huge role in the incredibly outdated diagnostic process, because autism is still believed to be an “AMAB only” thing. People report going into a therapists office and being asked questions like, “Do you like going outside? Do you like having friends?” and being told that if you agree with either of these, you cannot be autistic because criteria at some places is so backwards, you can’t even say you enjoy conversation without failing the test. Other things commonly heard during the analysis are screeners telling someone they are too smart/articulate to be autistic, gas lighting them by saying they are mistaking their symptoms for something else/making them up, telling a person they seem normal, dismissing clear autistic traits by saying they’re unique “superpowers”, or intentionally misdiagnosing a person as ADHD INSTEAD of autistic. People on social media have also pointed out what influences racism has on the diagnostic process as well and how lack of research and understanding of autistic POC contributes to under-diagnosis and stigma has only contributed to refusal of care and under-representation of POC in the disabled community, as one autistic Black woman points out on Instagram, “I found excellent articles that support and validate my feelings and experiences, but I could find no research on autistic Black people.” Additionally, because research has primarily been done on young men, this means anyone who is not a cis man and is over the age of 18 and is seeking a diagnosis has a much higher chance of not receiving one because screeners don’t understand how autistic traits may present differently in adults, especially since adults are very likely to mask. Some autism screeners are so against autism they have told clients they would only diagnosis a person autistic if it was their last resort to avoid “placing a burden on their shoulders”. These reasons are largely responsible for why autism is incredibly mis/under-diagnosed. This ask would be the length of a novel if I included every single type of discrimination and mistreatment during the evaluation process alone, but understand it can be incredibly biased, sexist, transphobic, racist, or just flat out ableist. And guess what? Though this process can take as little as a month to get sorted, that is rare. The assessment SHOULD be very short. But a lot of autistic people have reported their diagnosis took more than 2-4 years because of having to waste time, energy, and money hopping from therapist to therapist looking for someone to take them seriously, as many autistic people compiled on the actuallyautistictiktoks page on Instagram point out.

The last thing I want to touch on is this idea that people have that self diagnosing is dangerous. “What if someone self diagnoses and they take advantage of services that are meant for autistic people?” ...The Big Things you think I am going to take advantage of as a self diagnosed autistic person, like scholarship money for instance or SSDI, I do not have legal access to without a formal diagnosis. I cannot waltz into a law firm and ask for a $5,000 scholarship for autistic people without a diagnosis, because they WILL NOT give it to me!

Let me tell you some of things I’ve “cruelly taken advantage of” as a self diagnosed autistic person. I bought glasses with blue light protection, because screen and fluorescent lighting at work and even natural blue toned light from the sky lowers my threshold for some sensory input like noise and social interaction; wearing them to work everyday has improved my sensory thresholds incredibly. I’ve talked to my manager and told him I’m autistic and that I have a hard time understanding vague direction and may need to step away briefly on occasion to tend to a shutdown before a meltdown comes on at work; he had no problem with this. I use subtitles; sometimes I have trouble processing audio or reading facial expressions and tone, and being able to see the words displayed on the screen gives me a significantly better understanding of what I watch. All my life, I have been having meltdowns which I had mistaken for mental breakdowns or panic attacks and having access to resources that walked me through preventative methods and tips on what to do if I have one has been ENORMOUSLY helpful to me. All my life, I was trying to deal with them thinking they were something else; becoming aware of this and accepting that they are in fact autistic meltdowns has helped me not only go through them, but has helped me redirect stims which at their worst previously had me hitting and clawing my arms, slapping my face, and even hitting my head. I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to wait 4 years for a diagnosis to use resources I could be using to make my life more accessible right now!

People will say, “Oh well yeah, I don’t mean You are one of Those Types of self diagnosed autistic people, you clearly sound/look autistic, I’m talking about other people.” The thing is, there is no broad “sounding/looking autistic”, that’s stereotyping, and you can’t demand everyone who interacts with you show you their Autistic Card, because again, not everyone is able to be diagnosed, especially given the mistreatment and stigma present towards autistic people in the medical field! And what made you ask for their diagnosis? Because they “don’t seem autistic” to you? Why didn’t you ask for their diagnosis? Because they “seemed autistic” to you? By denying anyone who doesn’t have a diagnosis resources they may very well need, you are denying assistance to thousands of people who are without means to be diagnosed. And I am SO tired of seeing comments online on self diagnosis posts that “people don’t know what they’re taking about” as if they know us personally, like are you me? Are you my doctor I’ve consulted? Did you watch me academically research and consult with other autistic people about being autistic for over 3 years? I’m tired of “well, one time a self diagnosed person laughed at my actually autistic diagnosed friend...so all self dx people are evil” because there is ZERO correlation between a person being self assessed and their behavior towards a non self assessed person. The fact both those arguments are in use whenever self dx comes up is yet another form of gatekeeping.

Self diagnosing autism is not begging for attention or Evil Criminal Money Funneling Schemes. It is a result of a deeply flawed medical and insurance system that has failed to give proper attention and care to those who need it, it is a result of resources not made available, of safe support systems not there for kids and adults alike. You want to talk about what’s truly dangerous? How the hate group Autism Speaks has been parading itself around since 2005 as an advocacy group for autistic people and has been misusing millions of dollars worth of donation money and promoting stigma and hatred around autistic people; no autistic members are present on their board. How Sia and her new film Music was nominated for 2 Golden Globes despite it replacing the original autistic actor with a neurotypical actor, using offensive stereotypes, and using the main autistic character as a prop, and featured an extremely dangerous bodily restraint scene on an autistic person having a meltdown in public and featured very insensitive content due to Sia’s lack of consulting with autistic people to make the film (spoilers in that article).

Instead of policing autistic people, whether they fit your idea of what an autistic person is or not, redirect your efforts and your energy to dismantling systems and holding others accountable for perpetuating harmful stereotypes about autistic people that are legitimately dangerous on such a scale that they have created insurmountable damage to the autistic community. But I guarantee you, worrying over whether your classmate is “faking it” will not do any justice to the decades worth of discrimination autistic people face still today.

I understand. You care about the community, you don’t want autistic people to be exploited or taken advantage of. I don’t want to be exploited and taken advantage of as an autistic person, and I don’t want that for others! But I also understand that when we self proclaim ourselves as judges of random autistic strangers on the internet or start accusing people of faking or demanding to see medical paperwork from people when the basis of our suspicions is “this person doesn’t look like my stereotyped view on how I think an autistic person should act”, THAT is when you really run into trouble. Because if you are allowed to deny self dx people entrance into the autistic community, what’s stopping you from thinking you have the power to deny ANYONE entrance into that community?

And there is power in self diagnosis for many autistic people. When the evaluation system is literally rigged to set you up for failure and put you through unnecessary hardship, self dx is a self affirming, empowering tool to take back control from a process designed to gaslight and crush you. The evaluation process was NOT formulated by an autistic person, nor was it made to be inclusive of all autistic people. Until the evaluation system in place for autistic people is safe, accessible, and free to ALL, you have EVERY right to self diagnose.

[nctsjiho]

Your Fault

warnings: strong language, consumption of alchol, mention of death without actual death, very much angst

era: July 7th 2021

❀ NCT 127's 5th anniversary isn't a day to celebrate and be happy for everyone

To Doyoung:

“Happy 5th anniversary oppa!”

“I hope you and the boys are having a great time <3”

JiHo stared at her phone intently waiting for the “sent” at the bottom of her screen to turn into “read”. She had been staring at her phone like that for nearly an hour, yet nothing changed. The girl knew that the boys were busy, but somewhere she hoped that she’d hear from them. Besides the short “wished you could be with us” message she had received the evening before from Taeyong she hadn’t heard from anyone else. Of course JiHo was aware that the boys were busy, but was it a crime to feel left out and maybe want a phone call or something more than a “wished you could be with us” from anyone?

And so JiHo continued to stare at her phone, everything on the small screen getting progressively more blurry as time went on. Her eyes were straining, one almost pressed shut, the other slowly going cross-side. Her right hand, which wasn’t holding the phone, reached out to the glass bottle on her desk. A quick shake letting her know it was empty. So she reached for the other one, opening it skilfully with one hand – like she did with the other two bottles now empty on her desk – and bringing it up to her lips. “Must be nice hm~ Being an idol or whatever…”

“I’m glad you came over.” Sihyun, JiHo’s Esteem manager that lives with her, said as she grabbed the boy’s coat off his shoulders. The piece of clothing, along with his hair, slightly damp caused by the light drizzle outside. “JiHo’s been a bit sensitive and doesn’t let me in her room. She doesn’t want to talk to me at all.” Jaemin watched the woman’s face full of worry. He gave her a small reassuring smile and then glanced at the door leading to JiHo’s room. “I’ll try to talk to her.” Thanking Jaemin, Sihyun then excused herself, telling him she had to run some late night errands.

Not knowing what was happening behind the closed door of the bedroom, Jaemin knocked a few times. “Unnie~ Just leave me- leave me alone.” JiHo hiccupped between her words, her speech sounding a bit slurred. She had been drinking? JiHo?

Without a second thought Jaemin pushed the door open. A jumbled mess of protests escaped JiHo’s lips, but she froze in her chair as soon as her eyes locked with Jaemin. “What… are you doing here?” She muttered to the best of her abilities. “Coming to check up on you.” He neared the girl and poked at the bottles and the mess on her desk. “Clearly you need it.” His tone sounded very much disappointed and for a split second JiHo felt her heart ache, but she quickly turned defensive. “I do not!”

A sigh escaped deep from Jaemin’s chest and he pulled JiHo to sit on the edge of her bed next to him. “Since when do you drink?” It was quiet for a bit. JiHo looked at the bottle of the alcoholic beverage in her hand, swirling it around by circling her wrist and then started to giggle to herself. “A new hobby?” She turned to Jaemin, a big smile on her lips – however Jaemin could see the sadness behind it easily. “It’s fun. Feeling… Nothing! I can barely feel my… my lips.” Her body swayed from side to side prompting Jaemin to grab her by her shoulders and hold her in place. “It’s fun until you wake up with a hangover tomorrow.” He scoffed. “Can’t get a hangover if I don’t sleep.” She said, before turning to her desk. She then pointed at the box of another 9 bottles of alcohol next to it on the floor. “Or if I don’t stop drinking.” She grinned.

“Yah! What’s wrong with you?” Jaemin’s patience ran dry quickly. He just felt so furious seeing how badly JiHo was treating her own body. She never drank and now she was planning to drink 12 bottles of alcohol? Drinking herself straight into the hospital, and if it weren’t for Jaemin being here, maybe straight into her own grave. “This is strong alcohol! For all I know you can’t even handle it, so what made you decide to drink now huh?” He yelled, anger only rising watching the girl just stare at him with wide, innocent eyes.

Those same eyes turned to look at her laptop, located on the desk she sat at earlier. The NCT 127 online fanmeeting being streamed, muted.

Of course Jaemin knew it was NCT 127’s 5th anniversary, he knew it must’ve affected JiHo in some way, even if she kept insisting she was going to be fine and was happy for the boys. She even said that she wasn’t “part of the group since debut, so it wouldn’t even be my 5th anniversary” and everyone just had to nod and smile.

“Is that a reason to potentially drink yourself to death?” Jaemin poked her side – maybe a bit too harsh – to gain her attention again; she seemed to be zoning out every few seconds. “What else was I supposed to do? I’m tired of keeping things in.” She sneered at him and it was almost as if she didn’t drink anything. She sounded much more coherent than just a minute earlier. “Aren’t you doing just that though? Drinking on your own. Not letting Sihyun noona in? We keep telling you to talk to us, yet all you do is keep things in. The hyungs even took you out to do stuff and get your mind off things yet you get home and do the thing you always do.”

JiHo felt every drop of alcohol leave her system as she heard the somewhat condescending tone in her friend’s voice. “What the fuck? So this is my fault-“ “Kinda, yes! You just sit here feeling sorry for yourself while everyone is worried over you! We’re your friends for a reason JiHo. There are so many people who care for you, just start fucking talking when you feel down like this.”

The blood inside of JiHo’s veins started to boil and at the same time she felt tears pricking behind her eyes. “You think it’s that easy? What am I supposed to say? That I feel upset that I can’t be with 127 now? Okay. Then what about it? Me telling you this won’t change shit!” “At least you should stop lying and stop telling everyone you’re fine when you’re not! Why do you continue keeping things a secret from everyone?” Both JiHo and Jaemin’s chest rose and fell at a rapid pace. “But I guess you’re good at that anyway.” He added in a mumble.

Once the words registered in JiHo’s mind, the bottle that started to hover towards her lips was quickly forgotten. “What do you mean by that?” Jaemin just shrugged his shoulders and turned his gaze away from JiHo. “Jaemin? What do-“ “You were supposed to debut in 2016 with NCT U?” JiHo’s eyes widened and she pushed herself to stand up. “How’d you know-“ “Then they asked you to debut in 127? Also with us… In Dream?” “How do you know?” Was the only thing JiHo could say.

“Does it matter?” Jaemin yelled, standing up as well. “Why do you continue to keep secrets from us? Do you not trust us? Is that why you sit here alone? Drinking and crying alone.” The boy watched as JiHo stood in front of him wordlessly. He could see how his words were affecting her, but he wanted to be selfish for once. He wanted to let JiHo know how frustrating things were for him and his friends. He was well aware of how JiHo had her own worries and hardships, but if she never wanted to confide in anyone, then he was allowed to be mad right?

The only sound filling the room was both of their ragged breathing and the occasional shift from one foot to the other. The silence was almost deafening, a ringing shooting up JiHo’s clouded mind making her feel like she was going to lose it any second now. Her friend sending hurtful glares her way didn’t help ease the growing pain either.

“You’re right. I could’ve debuted in 2016, what about it?” JiHo whispered, afraid that her talking too loud would send surges of pain into her brain. “Why did you hide it from us? Why didn’t you say yes back then?” Jaemin interrogated her. “There was no reason to tell you if it didn’t happen. I didn’t debut so telling you I could’ve wouldn’t change a thing. I’m not in Dream, I didn’t debut in U and clearly now, I’m not in 127 either. Jaemin… It doesn’t matter anymore…” JiHo’s voice stayed as calm as possible.

“How long have you known Jaemin?” JiHo spoke up again as Jaemin didn’t say anything. She felt the tension grow exponentially, the pressure on her body and more noticeably her head increasing and bothering her more as well. “I heard it during that last meeting you had with Yebin noona and Mister Lee Soo Man…” JiHo let out a small chuckle, shaking her head in disbelief. “I guess we’re eavesdropping and keeping secrets from me as well.”

She brought the glass bottle still in her hands to her lips, throwing her head back, to down as much of the liquid as possible. Before she could finish it all in one go, Jaemin gripped the bottle and pulled it away from her. “It’s not the same, JiHo!”

The liquid rushed from between JiHo’s lips, making a wet patch on her grey sweatpants. She could feel her throat and lungs burning as she coughed, caused by the alcohol going down her windpipe instead.

Jaemin watched her with concern painting his features, his hand slowly caressing her back hoping it would ease her violent coughs. “I’m sorry. Are you okay?” He whispered and JiHo gave him a small nod as her body calmed down.

The two 00 liners stayed like that for a while, with Jaemin’s eyes burning at the back of JiHo’s downturned head. Even after JiHo’s body stopped shaking violently, Jaemin’s concern continued to grow. It was only when he noticed the drops, which only could be tears, fall onto her sweatpants and create even more wet spots, that he decided to step in.

Jaemin’s hand securely gripped JiHo’s shoulder and he pulled her up to face him. A gasp left the boy’s mouth as he watched large tears spill from his friend’s eyes. “Ji…” It proved incredibly difficult to speak when he was faced with a situation he wasn’t ready to deal with. Maybe Jaemin shouldn’t have confronted her the way he did. Maybe acting like everything was fine wouldn’t have caused him to witness JiHo at possibly the worst she has felt.

It became a full minute of Jaemin staring into JiHo’s pain- and tear-filled eyes, feeling like he could drown in them himself, before a loud pained sob brought him to reality. The sudden jolt of JiHo’s body forward made Jaemin act quickly and pulled the girl into his chest. His hand, just as quickly, found its way into JiHo’s slightly tangled hair.

“I’m… sor- so sorry.” JiHo sobbed into his chest, tears soaking through even the thicker material of the boy’s jumper. Jaemin could feel his sweater start to stick against his chest, yet what felt more uncomfortable than the damp piece of clothing was the feeling of JiHo’s body shaking in his hold.

As best as he could, Jaemin tried to soothe JiHo. Almost like taking care of a crying toddler, he swayed the girl from side to side. His lips were pressed against the shell of JiHo’s ear as Jaemin whispered affirmations into her skin. “Don’t apologise... Stop apologising.”

“I’m only bringing the team down-” “Shh JiHo. Stop that.” He told her, as his fingers continued to comb through her hair, slowly and carefully detangling it along the way. JiHo pressed her eyes tighter as even more tears spilled from her cheeks and pushed herself closer into Jaemin’s grasp.

Mouth agape, a sob that was building up in his own chest was threatening to fall from Jaemin’s own lips. “You don’t deserve any of this JiHo, you only deserve the best.” JiHo only shook her head, but didn’t dare to speak again. “You do... You really do.”

The night in the capital of South-Korea was never really that dark. Lights always seemed to find their way past the pulled back blinds of any building that wasn’t directly blocked by another one due to bad city planning. So even during the darkest time of day, even when all the lights inside have been dimmed, somehow, it was still light enough to see inside.

So when Jaemin pulled back to look at JiHo’s face, her eyes still tightly pressed shut - which pained him immensely - Jaemin could see the light reflecting off of her wet cheeks.

Feeling two hands being placed on her burning cheeks, JiHo finally decided to open her eyes again. A few more tears rolled over her cheeks onto Jaemin’s thumbs, but luckily no new ones seemed to form. “I’m sorry for everything, all this drama. It’s my fault.” Jaemin shook his head and pulled the girl back, this time to hide his own tears that were starting to form. “Please stop apologising, it’s not your fault.”

“But-” JiHo sighed, her arms found their way around Jaemin’s small waist. “I hate that it’s always about me. I don’t want to be this cliche ‘emotional girl with so many problems and everyone has to pay attention to her problems’. I don’t want that. I don’t want to burden you guys with that, but I also don’t want that kind of attention. I know people already hate me for being in a boy’s group. I don’t want my stupid problems to be the only thing that people assiociate me with NCT.”

“Your problems are not stupid JiHo. And though I understand what you’re saying, I think it’s worse to keep it in. If anything, keeping it in just makes us worry about you more and may get you more attention. JiHo I know things suck right now, and I can’t imagine how you’re feeling with everything going on right now, but… Please just talk to us when things are bothering you. We all love you.”

At those last words JiHo loudly sniffled back some stray tears. She pressed herself into Jaemin’s warm embrace and softly nodded her head. “From now on I will. I promise. And…” JiHo looked up at Jaemin, sending him a small smile that he gratefully reciprocated. “I love you guys too. You’re all I have here and that’s enough to make me stay.”

Jaemin’s hand resumed with his previous ministrations. A deep sigh left his lips as he rested his head atop of JiHo’s. “Everything will be just fine.” Jaemin pressed a kiss against JiHo’s hair. “As long as we stay together everything will be just fine.”

[catxsnow]

FREE FALLING K.K.

Request: Okay some anons were simping over kon now I wanna simp~ y/n is an archer on the teen Titans , and she tends to be shy and on the reserved side, so when kon flirts she just dismisses him every time, until another guy ( superhero or civilian, you choose ) gets flirty and he gets made protective/jealous.

Warning: fluff 

A/N: I’m slowly running out of already written fics and my motivation has not come back yet. This hiatus may be lasting longer than I thought. 

Word Count: 2.3k

There was nothing wrong with a little bit of flirting within the team. It kept the bond of teammates close and always kept everyone on their toes. The dynamic on the Teen Titans was always one of ups and downs. There was such an entanglement of potential relationships that everyone got confused as to what was going on.

Most of that confusion stemmed from Conner Kent, Superboy as the team knew him as. His temporary relationship with Cassie had surprised everyone. He flirted with nearly everyone on the team, Tim, Kori, you. Kon's endless flirting began the day Oliver dropped you off at the Titans Tower and left you there for good.

Kon was frustrating in the sense that his flirtation with you was nonstop. From the moment you woke up to the moment you went back to sleep, it seemed that his only mission was to get you flustered. It didn't seem that he knew that you were bothered by his comments.

Tim always scolded Kon for his behaviour. After Cassie, it was clear that relationships among teammates was dangerous. Not to mention that it was pretty obvious of your blatant ignorance of his attempts. He continued to try nonetheless - one day you would crack for him, one day.

"Good morning, sweetheart." Kon was never an early riser. At the farm, he always got up early for chores, so at the tower he took every chance to sleep in. When he started to learn that you got up early, so did he. There was always the tired look in her eyes that he admired.

Kon found you down at the range. Though your skills were nowhere near Oliver, or even Roy, you put up a good fight just as much as everyone else on this team. The early hours were always dedicated to practice, and unfortunately, Kon figured that out pretty quickly.

You were so concentrated on the shot, you hadn't heard Kon's heavy footsteps join you. The shot went askew, completely missing the target. Your body tensed with frustration at him.

"Whoops, sorry babe. Didn't realize my good looks distracted you so much," Kon grinned. You refused to show him his words got you flustered. Instead, you grabbed another arrow. Babe. It slipped so smoothly off his tongue that it forced a chill down your spine.

"It's fine, Superboy," you assured him - though you were still angered at him for screwing around with your training once again. Kon leaned against the rack that held your bows. His arms rested on the top, head on his hands. His curls were still a mess from his sleep last night.

You felt your arm shake for a split second. His eyes watching your every move, waiting for you to make the perfect shot just as you always did. There was a lot of pressure on you with his gaze. You took a breath before releasing the arrow, watching as it hit dead center of the target. It was easy, hitting a non-moving target like this. Kon was the one making it difficult.

"Superboy?" He cocked an eyebrow. "We aren't on a mission babe, you can call me Kon you know. I'd prefer it." Of course he would, he loved the sound of his name passing your lips. It was almost angelic. "You know-"

"(Y/N), Conner," Tim's head popped into the training room before Kon could tell you what he wanted. His chest fell with a disappointed sigh. "Nightwing and Flash are here."

"Is there something wrong?" You asked. They rarely showed up out of the blue without there being a reason. Usually, that reason meant that people were in trouble and lives were at stake. Tim relieved your stress with a simple shake of his head. He gestured for the both of you to follow him. Kon stuck his hand out for you to hand over the bow so he could hang it up on the rack he leaned on.

A small smile cracked as your hand brushed against his. It was cheesy, ridiculously so, but his touch was so warm and inviting even if it was just for a brief second. Kon placed the bow down and followed you and Tim out of the room. Just as Robin said, his older brother and his friend were with the others in the meeting room.

Wally's presence always lightened the room. There was something about the smile that resided on him that managed to put everyone in a good mood. It always amplified whenever Dick was at his side. The two were a dynamic pair, and when they did stop by the tower without underlying business, it was always a good time.

There were a few times that you had been alone in the tower. Tim back to Gotham, Kon and Cassie to their own homes as well. It left you and Bart with no one but yourselves to keep each other company. In those times, Wally would sometimes make an appearance. The speedsters would train but by the end of the night you would all be piling high with snacks.

As you entered the room, Wally waved at you and that smile that everyone looked forward to was released. Before you could wave back, a heavy arm was thrown across your shoulder. Kon was at your side. It wasn't the first time he had completely invaded your bubble and it surely wouldn't be the last.

"Flash, Nightwing," he greeted. You could feel the heat crawling up your neck with Kon's side pressed against yours. Hopefully, he, nor any of your other teammates, noticed your state. It was beyond annoying that he could get you like this. "What's the visit for this time? Scolding us for saving the day again?"

He dropped his arm from your shoulders but remained close to you. Kryptonians must have ran warm because you could still feel the lingering heat of his body against you.

"JL wanted an update, figured we could stop in," Wally answered. He sped over to your side and placed a hand over your ear so no one else could hear. "And Boy Wonder over there is in trouble with the Bats." Clearly, Kon heard what the speedster had to say and let out a laugh. What could Tim have done to get himself in trouble?

"Doesn't explain why you came," you joked. Wally had mimicked Kon's arm-over-the-shoulder.

"Wanted to come see you, of course," Wally grinned. His arm suddenly locked around your neck and his knuckles rubbed into your head. You struggled to pull him off you. Finally, you had managed to hook his ankle and make him fall flat on his back. "Look at that, you're making me lose my breath."

The laughter among teammates emitted from everyone besides Kon. He had an annoyed look on his face from the interaction between you and Wally, though he said nothing about it. Wally sped back up, a slight tinge of pink to his cheeks after the interaction.

Kon watched in frustration as Wally dragged you into the kitchen, likely to find himself a snack or two. Your laughs always put a bit of joy in him, but now? Hearing you laugh because of Wally? Each sound was like a knife to the heart. Pure jealously ran through him - why was it that he could never make you laugh like that?

"Calm down, Kon," Tim stood by his side. It was clear to anyone, even when they weren't raised by the great Batman, that Kon was incredibly jealous of Wally. It was only Tim that decided to speak up. "There's nothing between them. No need to be jealous."

"I'm not," Kon snapped. His reaction was enough to prove that he was in fact jealous. He let out a huff of air before walking away from his best friend. Unfortunately, the further he got from Tim, the closer he got to you and Wally just to hear the sound of your laughter once more. His chest tightened with anger.

It wasn't at Wally, nor you. It was at himself for not being able to get you out of your comfort zone as the speedster could. Since joining this team it seemed he was the only one that you remained shy and nervous around. What was wrong with him to make you feel that way?

What was wrong with him that made you not want to spend time with him?

><

"There you are."

Kon disappeared shortly after you left with Wally (and eventually Bart who couldn't stay away at the smell of food). Tim was with Dick all afternoon and Cassie spent her time training with Kori. Kon was nowhere to be found, and you couldn't figure out why he felt the need to leave his friends.

You searched the whole building for him, starting down at the training grounds and working your way all the way up to the roof of the buildings. He was sitting on the edge, legs dangling as the last rays of the sun fell from the sky.

Kon folded into himself: shoulders hunched, head hung low. He perked up at the sound of your voice - even more so when he saw that you were alone. You sat next to him and matched his sitting position.

"Were you up here all day?" You asked. Kon nodded, though he remained silent. It wasn't like him to skip out on a pickup line or make some sort of comment. In fact, it wasn't like him to just disappear the whole day either. He looked upset about something. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Kon was a horrible liar. You raised your eyebrows at him, indicating that you knew he was lying through his teeth. He sighed, leaning back so his palms pressed into the rough roofing. The golden rays illuminated him, creating an aura around him that made him seem godly. You wanted to reach out to him, but contained yourself.

The sunset was beautiful enough as it was, but to add Kon's beauty on top of that? Your heart was beating so fast you were sure that Kon's super hearing had him concerned.

"You don't have to lie around me, you know," You nudged his side. Kon sighed once more. He didn't want to tell you the truth, but he felt terrible for lying and making you worry. You were quick to notice a pink tinge on his cheeks. It was a turn of events, usually you were the one flustered around him. The hue looked pleasant on him.

"I'm sorry," he suddenly apologized, "I... Well, I guess..." Kon fumbled over his words. The pink on his cheeks grew brighter, even as he tried to hide it from you. There was never a day you thought you would get to see the great Superboy flushed like this. He was always the confident one. "Fuck."

Kon's hand grasped your cheeks. His split moment of hesitance made you realize exactly what he was about to do. Whether it be frozen in fear or excitement, you didn't try to move. The closer he got the harder your heartbeat until the point as if it felt like you were going to burst. The moment Kon's lips were on yours it felt as if it stopped altogether.

His kiss was soft, hesitant - nothing like the facade he always had up. Kon was delicate with you, as if he was worried he was going to break you with just a touch. Your lips moved against his with far more confidence than you had ever shown him before. You didn't realize how badly you craved for his taste until the moment you had it.

He pulled away only for a second, waiting to see if you were wanting him to quit completely. With no sign of regret, Kon pulled you in for a rushed kiss. His lips needy against yours, making up for the lost time that he wasted months on. It was only when his lungs felt like they were going to combust did he give you space.

"I-" His palm remained against the curve of your neck and jaw, thumb swiping against your cheekbone. "I was jealous today, of Wally. I've never heard you laugh so hard when you're with him and I wanted that. I'm sorry."

"You have no reason to be sorry, Superboy," you assured him. He couldn't stop his feelings, just as you couldn't deny them anymore. "I-I'm sorry I was always so distant with you. I... I guess I was too scared to admit my feelings for you."

Kon was ready to spill his heart out to you. He knew that once he started gushing about how much he adored you, he wouldn't be able to stop. Instead, he leaned into you again, smiling into your kiss with pure excitement.

His legs that dangled off the edge pushed against the siding of the building and pulling you along with him. A strangled scream ripped from your throat as the two of you free fell in the darkening sky. Kon's arm wrapped around your waist and he held you flush against his body.

Your head was buried into the crook of his neck until realizing that you were no longer falling but floating. The grip on his shirt loosened and you looked up to appreciate the new view he gave you.

Kon brushed his lips against yours once more, just to grab your attention. "Don't worry babe, I've got you. There's no need to worry whenever you're with me."

Taglist:  @pricetagofficial @mora-miserium  @babymango-writes  @redrobin-yumm  @simp-is-what-i-am  @catsofsmoke  @subtleappreciation  @officiallydarkgeek @spiitfiires  @pinkdiamond1016  @childish-kiwi  @givetimdrakeacoffee  @gunnedrobin   @local-fandom-trashcan  @bikoncon​  @foenixphire

[darylsgirl]

He’s just like the sun. Daryl Dixon x Reader 18+ Smut

*Second ever Fanfic! Exciting! I hope you guys enjoy this! Please let me know if there is anything you’d change about it or anything you like! I would love some tips on how to improve!  I will warn it does get pretty dark at points, but the story just kind of got away from me again haha! Younger reader and Older Daryl for the anonymous request! Hope this has lived up to your expectations! Hope y’all having a lovely day <3*

Warnings!: Domestic violence, Heavy cursing, Violence and Smut 

Summary: Daryl had saved you from a herd of walkers, When you reached Alexandria he became distant and you started dating Spencer. He stayed away from you fully until Carol brought it to his attention that Spencer could be hurting you. Long slow burn. Smutty ending with Confessions of love :) 

Part Two              Part three 

“Good morning baby” He said rolling on top of you kissing you swiftly. 

“Good Mornin’ Spence' You replied squirming uncomfortably.

He enveloped you in his arms around you pulling you closer to him. 

“Sorry Spence, but carol’s expecting me. I really have to go!” 

His eyes flashed dark, He finally released you. “So just Carol? Or is there anyone else you will be seeing today?” 

You pushed your hand to the back of your neck rubbing it uncomfortably. “Urm yeah i think it’s just carol, She did say something about Rosita popping by to give us a hand” 

“Well you know what to do if anyone else turns up right? Or should I remind you?” He said with a smirk now. 

Your eyes met his panicked now “No i promise only Carol and Rosita. I know what to do i promise baby”

Ugh you hated calling him that but you knew it worked. You looked back at him and could see your words had placated him for now. Running to the bathroom you quickly got ready for the day, Checking over your appearance in the mirror you were satisfied that everything would look normal to anyone looking at her. You tucked your shirt into your jeans wincing as you did to make sure this didn’t rise up and left the bathroom. Sighing a breath of relief when you saw that Spencer had gotten up and left. Running a hand through your hair you ran downstairs, laced your boots up hastily, Leapt off the porch and headed towards Carol’s house.

You always loved your days with Carol, She was the most incredible woman. Tough, unrelenting and takes no nonsense but yet the mother of the group and loves everyone unconditionally, You’re pretty sure she would die for any one of you. She made you feel safe and at ease which is two feelings that were hard to come by these days. 

Smiling as you saw Carol in the front garden digging. You ran over and saw that there was a tray sitting on the porch with two cups of tea and some pancakes waiting. She nodded towards the porch “Go on help yourself Y/N. I'll be over in a minute” Another reason you just loved Carol. She. was. The. best. Cook. Even something as simple as pancakes you knew were going to be delicious.  “So I heard through the grapevine it’s your birthday soon?” Carol asked. You smiled at her “Yeah,I’ll be 22 on April 16th. Not that i’m even sure when that is now” 

“It seems silly now but sometimes i wonder what it would of been like to have my first drink, Never got a chance with the end of well….everything”

Carol looked over at you and checked the calendar. “Deana told me the date when we got here and I've been marking it ever since. Looks to be a week on Tuesday! Got anything nice planned?” “Nah, Just another day to me now!” You said shrugging. 

“Is Spencer planning anything?” 

“Um not sure, I don’t think i’ve told him if i'm honest”

“Well tell me then. If you could have anything in the world what would it be” 

You smiled the answer coming so easy to you now “A sunflower, I would really love to see a sunflower again” 

Carol nodded at you. “Now that would be something” 

Smiling happily again as you sat down you pulled a plate of pancakes on your lap and ravenously ate groaning as you did. “Carol, these are sooo good. What’s the secret?” 

“Y’all know if i tell you, i’d have to kill you” She said with a light hearted laugh and a wink. 

You had quickly finished your plate using the tea to wash it down. You thanked Carol, Grabbed the tray and walked in to clean the dishes. Carol followed in behind you talking about the day’s tasks. You didn’t really pay much attention as you were happy to do whatever as long as you weren’t stuck at home or with him. 

That’s when you heard him “Mornin’ Carol any o’ those fer me?” You body froze with fear, You needed to get out of here NOW. You scrubbed the plates and mugs as quick as you could and set them on the side of the sink to try. Spinning around you grabbed a dish cloth and wiped your hands. “I’m so sorry Carol, I just remembered I promised Spencer something, I have to go. I’ll see you soon?”

You started making your way briskly towards the door when a hand grabbed your wrist. “Y/N There a problem here?” You were too scared to look him in the eye, Those were your weakness so bright and beautiful. “No Daryl, Just cant be here” You muttered staring at your feet silently begging him to push and save you, But in true shy Daryl fashion he released your arm still staring at you. 

Carol cleared her throat “I thought you had made a promise not that you couldn’t be here?” She walked over to you, also staring at you intensely. “Same thing, Not allowed. Promised Spencer” Carol’s eyes burned looking at you she grabbed your face pulling your eyes up to meet yours. “Not allowed?” She asked softer than you expected. You nodded your head slightly “Please Carol i have to go” You begged her scared. She gripped your face tighter, Her eyes wandering quickly across your face. You ripped your face from her hands and Carol gasped. Panic building in you again you turned and ran through the front door with Carol and Daryl hot on your heels. 

As you hit the pavement you ran straight into him, You froze again,Fear in your eyes, your eyes downcast..

Spencer looked at you then looked at the porch seeing them both there he wrapped his hand around your lower back digging his nails painfully into your side. You jumped slightly. Spencer put his lips to your ear and whispered “Smile and wave and say goodbye to your friends” Putting an emphasis on the word friends. Tears stung your eyes. 

You looked up at carol placing an unconvincing smile on your face, “Bye guys, Thank you for breakfast Carol” The second the words had left your mouth Spencer was dragging you by the hip back to the house your eyes still not leaving Carol’s in a wordless plea. 

Back on the porch Carol turned to Daryl “Fuck, We gotta do something about that” “Bout what?” he asked puzzled “God Daryl you can be so blind sometimes!” “Didn’t you see her neck when she was leaving, Those bruises were finger marks. I’d bet my life on it” He looked over at Carol shocked “He like Ed?” She nodded mouth forming a thin line “The one thing that bastard was good for is he taught me to see the signs of that evil in others, That fear was mine not too long ago” She continued “We can’t just get involved that won’t help we need to watch him and catch him at it so he can’t make her lie” 

Daryl felt like something inside him had broken, He couldn’t believe that prick was doing this to her, To Y/N, A Girl like that deserved to be treated like an angel. He wished he could have told her how he felt before all this and saved her the pain. 

He had loved her from the first moment he had laid eyes on her. He had been the one to find her when they were on the road to DC. She was alone trying to fight off a herd of walkers with a determined look in her eye. Daryl had known he wasn’t supposed to get involved; he was supposed to be just observing and reporting back to the group. But the look in her eye  had made him charge forward “Hey!! Over here! Follow me!” She hadn’t even given it a second thought she just ran towards him and swung her leg over the back of his motorbike and they had ridden off. It had happened so quickly neither of them had the chance to wonder if the other could be dangerous. They both had connected at a base level without suspicion. 

Daryl had forced his bike to its limits, hightailing it back to the group with her arms around him. When he got back to them Rick had rushed forward to greet them looking warily at the pair, Daryl stopped the bike and started trying to explain to his friend when she fell sideways from the bike. Having to explain to the group that he didn’t even know her name was difficult but he just had to save her. By way of an explanation he just said “Any woman tha faces down a hoard alone earnt her chance” 

Daryl hadn’t left her side until she woke up. Seeing his reaction to this woman the group didn’t question it and just accepted her as one of their own. 

Daryl smiled thinking back to all the moments you two had been together on the road to here, To alexandria which had quickly become home. Before here he had barely left your side, He had thought you were incredible. A complete badass. From the first day you had defended and helped the group as if they were already family. You were a perfect fit. You were everything he wasn’t Light and beautiful. He knew a woman like you would never want the dark twisted man he had become but he couldn’t stop himself from being around you. You were magnetic. 

He never had the guts to tell you all of this, He knew you would reject him and everything your presence had healed in him would be shattered again. When they had gotten to Alexandria he had started seeing less of you as you had taken up your post at the infirmary and he had been going on more and more runs to keep the community fed and taken care of. He had started to wish for injuries just so he would have an excuse to feel your eye’s meet his again. He craved your touch with everything in him. But of course he could never tell you that, It would be so wrong of him. He was no good for you, he was atleast 20 years older for a start, An old redneck like him could never deserve a young beauty like you. 

About a week after you had all gotten here someone else had noticed you. You seemed to rebuff his advances at first which gave Daryl hope. A few weeks later Daryl was sent on a long run and when he came back there you were on Spencer's porch wrapped in his arms, Laughing at his words. That memory was the most painful for him, He had just gotten up the guts after a very close call to tell you how much he loved you and needed you to be his and there you were, Someone else’s now.

He couldn’t help but imagine what would happen if you had in fact been his, He spent all of his nights wondering what it would be like to have you in his arms lay next to him, Wondering what your lips would feel like on his, How your skin would feel under his fingers, Your breath on his skin. All of these nights ended in a hurried and urgent tug as he let his mind imagine your hands were his. Moaning your name night after night. Always opening his eyes to the empty space beside him and the gripping pain in his chest. 

“Daryl, Come in Daryl” Carol was waving her hand in front of your face. “Uhh Sorry, What did you say?”

“I said,'' Can you make an excuse to go to the infirmary tonight?” He balled his fists. He could definitely do that. He waited a few hours and then stormed towards the garage with Carol hot on his heels. He drew a deep breath and then punched his hand through the glass cabinet. Drawing his hand back and watching the blood seep down his wrist. Looking up at Carol expectantly “That’ll do nicely Daryl” With a glint in her eye. She turned and grabbed a rag off the side and wrapped it around his wrist. You go to the infirmary ill get Y/N. Daryl couldn’t feel the pain of what he had done yet, He could just feel the adrenaline rushing through him. 

Carol ran across and down the street stopping to take a deep breath before knocking she heard a whimper from inside. Fixing a panicked look on her face she knocked urgently. A few moments later Spencer tore the door open, “What?” He demanded. Unfazed Carol replied “Hey spence! I’m sorry to intrude so late but we need Y/N Its urgent” She smiled sweetly at him. “Whatever you need her for you either tell me or you can wait till tomorrow” Showing him the blood on her hands. “Well um there was an accident and we can’t find denise.” She said in an innocent voice. Hearing this you appeared at the door and looked up at spencer. “I need to go, I promise i'll be quick…. Please?” You smoothed your hair over your neck again and started out of the door towards Carol when Spencer caught your wrist pulling you back to him. “You better be, I aint done with you yet” He growled into your ear, Then pushed his lips to yours put a fake smile on his face “Okay honey, Be Careful”

You took this moment to pull your arm from his following Carol pressing her for more information. You arrived at the infirmary and saw Daryl on the steps blood dripping down his hand onto the steps. You unlocked the door and ushered him and Carol inside. 

Sitting Daryl down and not meeting his eyes you delicately removed the rag from his wrist and grimaced. Knowing better than to ask questions you set to work with a pair of tweezers and started removing the glass shards from his hand and wrist before cleaning the wound, Stitching and bandaging it as quick as you could. You braved a glimpse upwards and saw his eyes searching your body and then your eyes. 

Seeing those beautiful blue eyes hit yours you were fighting the tears. You wanted to spill and tell him everything. He had always had that effect on you all he had to do was look at you and you wanted to pour yourself into him. You had loved him from the very beginning, From the moment your eyes met you had craved him, Craved those beautiful strong arms around you keeping you safe from the world. 

You had always wished he would show even a spark of interest towards you, Well he was always around but he acted so indifferent. 

Engrossed in his eyes just staring at each other it was like there was no one else in the world, He was the sun pulling you in. His hand came up and moved the hair from your face, His fingers lingering before moving your hair completely away from your neck, his eye’s darting downwards inspecting you. His eyes grew dark then “Please Y/N what has he done to you?” his eyes were fixed on your neck as he reached forward and brushed his fingers across your throat tracing the bruises. 

Your breath hitched in your throat enjoying his touch. Carol cleared her throat from the corner “Guys we got company” Daryl dropped his hand and darted forwards blocking the doorway as it flung open. 

Spencer, He was fucking everywhere. 

“Can i help you?” Daryl growled. “What are you doing man, Where’s my girl?” Spencer asked. “She’s Busy and she’s gon be busy for a long time. Why don’t you take off kid” Daryl said still not moving from spencer’s way “I’ll take off when i’ve got my girl, Get the fuck out of the way” You could hear the change in his tone turn from polite to the voice that sent fear through your bones. 

You stepped forward. “I’m right here. It’s okay i won't be long” Daryl looked back at you pained “Yeah ya will. We aint letting ya go back with him” Roaring “Fucking look at yaself Y/N look at those bruises!” He span back at spencer “Ya needa take a fuckin hike, Touch her again ill kill you” He growled. Spencer looked amused “Yeah, Ok redneck scurry on to your moonshine and skinning possums'' He half laughed. “You think that little bitch wants you? She’s mine. Now get your ass here Y/N before i get fucking angry.” 

Daryl was heaving now Carol rushed forwards and grabbed his arms as he went to lunge forward. You forced your body forward in between them both tears freely running down your face now. “It’s okay, Daryl I’m okay. I’m not worth it” You winced when you felt Spencer's hands dig into your already bruised hips again. Daryl saw this “Ya gotta be kiddin me Y/N Ya worth 10 o’ him'' His eyes searched yours again desperate. “Please Daryl don’t make this any worse” “You heard her white trash” Spencer then pulled you from the room back down the infirmary steps, Daryl watched as he pulled her down the street and threw her back through the front door” 

Anger boiling through his veins he took off in the other direction, grabbed his bike and took off out of the gate and into the night. 

A week had passed since that night, It had taken a week to recover from the beating he gave you. You knew the rules No talking to either of them now. You were to go to work and come home, No more out of hours calls. You watched when Daryl finally rode back into town. Covered in walker blood his face still contorted in anger when he rushed back into the house. You saw the light come on in the basement and watched as he smashed up what few belongings he had before settling onto his bed. This had become your favourite pass time you loved that you could see straight into his room and the garage when he was in there. Spencer had already noted they could see into this house and had kept the curtains drawn on all rooms at all times. 

When you finally did go back to work Spencer walked you to and from the infirmary for the first week until he started to relax again. You liked it better when he relaxed, He could be sweet and loving towards you and you did everything you could to prolong it to avoid his rages again. 

On the tuesday you now knew was your birthday, You went to work with a half smile on your face. Denise pointed over to a desk “That was dropped off for you earlier” You walked over and found a slightly dirty Pin. Flipping it over you saw it was a beautiful painted sunflower. Beaming you turned back to denise “Who was it?” “Ahh sworn to secrecy! Sorry Y/N” You playfully growled at her “ooh terrified! I’m more scared of them, than I am of you Y/N Sorry still not telling!” You laughed and decided to let it go and just enjoy your beautiful thoughtful gift. 

Since Spencer had relaxed he had let you walk to work and back alone on the second day of this you heard him. “Y/N wait up!” Shit not now! What if he’s watching. You darted your eyes around and picked up the pace towards home. Running to catch up with you, Daryl ran in front of you and made you stop. 

“Please not now Daryl, If he sees...I’m not allowed….I’m not allowed to be near you” You stuttered. You gazed up at him pleading. His eyes went hard. “No! NO! I aint allowing it! Ya not going back to him Y/N I aint allowing him to hurt ya again!” You started shaking at his raised voice. Daryl noticed this and looked to be struggling with himself before finally lunging towards you and taking your head in his hands making your eyes stay on his. There it was again he was the sun and you couldn’t pull away even if you wanted to. 

“I love ya Y/N, I fuckin love ya! I can’t watch him not treat you like how you deserve! I’ll take care of you please, please let me i'll protect you with everythin i have!” His eyes looked wild and desperate. You couldn’t stop yourself, you pushed your lips forward meeting his hurriedly matching his desperation. The world could have ended again right then. You wouldn’t have cared one bit as he wrapped his arms around you and you melted into him feeling safe at last. 

Your hands made their way to his hair no longer caring who was watching and pulled him closer to you. He pulled away reluctantly. “Come on we’re getting ya stuff now. I’m not having ya there for another second '' Your brain still foggy you nodded giggling and let him pull you towards your house. Panic setting in again. Spencer should still be on guard duty the house should be empty so why were you so afraid. 

You looked back at Daryl and melted again. “Wait here, I won't be long, there's not much I need” He nodded at you taking a defensive stance and staring into the street. 

You ran up the stairs and threw the door open shutting it softly behind you and ran up the stairs grabbed your bag from under the bed and stuffing clothes in at random, Next you turned to the bathroom and grabbed your tooth brush and other bits. Smiling at yourself in the mirror not recognising the happy woman in front of you. 

It was then you saw him leaning against the doorway behind you. “That was quite a show Y/N, Well there’s only one thing for it! You ain’t goin nowhere with him with fuckin nobody but me bitch” He smirked at you and dove forward grabbing fistfuls of hair in his hands he threw your head forward smashing it into the mirror. You screamed begging him to let go as he continued to pull your head back and hit it back into the wall. You could feel the blood running down your face. Clouding your eyesight. Suddenly the hands were gone you gripped the sink fighting to stay up right. Grabbing a cloth and rubbing the blood out of your eyes you saw Spencer being dragged from the room. You followed as quick as your stumbling legs would carry you. 

You made it out onto the street to see spencer in the middle of the road and Daryl over him punching everywhere he could “I fuckin told ya, I’d Fuckin told ya i’d kill ya” He was screaming into his face. You looked around and saw a crowd had formed. Deana, Spencer’s mother was screaming for Daryl to stop. Which brought Rick and the others running. Carol ran straight for you taking your head in her hands and pulling you close. Whispering “It’s okay now Y/N. It’s okay i’ve got you” 

Rick ran straight at Daryl pulling him away from Spencer. Spencer pulled himself up and spat the blood from his mouth glaring at you now He pulled himself to his feet stumbling, eyes locked on you glaring he screamed “You little bitch” and ran at you. Rick couldn’t restrain Daryl any more as Daryl ran forward grabbing Spencer and throwing him to the ground again just before he reached you. Rick and a few others ran forward again and stood in front of you guarding you from Spencer. Daryl saw the fear in your eyes and rounded back on him. 

Crouching over Spencer on the floor Daryl yelled “Ya don’t listen do ya, Rick was trying to save ya miserable piece of shit life” He punched him again. “Me, I want to see ya as an undead asshole and I wanna be the one to do it, So keep pushing it Spencer” He pulled his crossbow from off his back and pointed it at the man on the ground, his chest heaving now. A strangled cry left your throat then.

Pushing yourself out of Carol’s arms you made your way to Daryl, You put your hand over his on the bow and pushed it down. Internally begging him to look at you. He finally did “Please Daryl it doesn’t matter, I don’t matter. I won’t have you being a murderer for me” 

Daryl’s eyes softened before turning back to spencer “Twice in a day someone else has saved ya fuckin life. Don’ even think about coming near her again. I even smell you near her or catch you looking at MY WOMAN again. ill rip ya fucking eyes out” He roared

Deanna was at her sons side now “He gets it please, Please leave so i can take my son home”

Daryl turned to you “Come on baby, We need to go home too” He dropped his crossbow back over his shoulder and wrapped his arm around your shoulders pulling you to him and pressing his lips to your forehead. You instantly relaxed grinning into him and you let him guide you again over to his house and down to his basement. You looked at him sadly when he pulled his arms from around your shoulders and turned to lock the door behind you pulling the deadbolt across. 

He turned smiling at you “Come on let’s get a good look at ya” Putting his hand in yours he brought you to the bed and sat you down inspecting the gash on your head. “We needa get you to Denise to get ya patched up” You grimaced “No she will be busy with him, I can do it. You got a needle and wire?” He looked at you shocked “Um yeah somewhere here” He busied himself getting those for you. He came back to you with them and some rubbing alcohol and bandages “Ya sure ya don’t want Denise? I’d do it but i'd probably make it worse” You smiled at him again sighing “It’s okay Daryl, It’s not my first rodeo” You made your way to the mirror and calmly cleaning and stitching yourself up. 

Daryl was half fascinated and half horrified as he watched you work. You looked so calm and didn’t even flinch when you were stitching yourself. It disturbed him to know you had probably gotten used to giving yourself medical attention. He waited patiently for you to be done. When you finally made your way back to him he pulled you back into his arms breathing deeply “I ain’t ever gonna let anyone hurt ya again Y/N not ever.” 

You reluctantly pulled yourself away now looking up at him with tired eyes. “I um didn’t get a chance to get my bag. Could I borrow something? I think I need to lie down, If that’s okay? Or I could go ask Carol if she minds me going upstairs?” 

“Ya kiddin aren’t ya? I aint letting you out of my sight” Getting nervous suddenly “Unless ya don’t want to be here. I aint gonna force you to stay or anything else'' You smiled at him again “Daryl i want to be here, With you. It’s all i’ve ever wanted” He grinned relieved, turned to his dresser and pulled out one of his shirts. “This alright?” You pulled the shirt up to your face smelling it briefly, It was clean but still smelled distinctly like motor oil and cigarettes. Just like him. You smiled sweetly at him “It’s perfect, Thank you” 

You looked pointedly at him, He laughed awkwardly, lay on the bed and looked at the ceiling above giving you your privacy. You slowly started removing your clothes wincing at points where your skin was still tender. Gratefully pulling his shirt over you and Scooping your hair out of the neck. 

“I don’t suppose the infamous Daryl Dixon owns a comb or brush does he?” You said amused. He jumped up again grabbing a brush from another drawer and bringing it over to you. His eyes assessed you “I don’t think ya going to manage to brush that out. Needs washin” 

“Oh and you're the authority on washing now?” You winked at him. You brought your hand to your hair and realised he probably had a point, Looking at him meekly this time. “Sorry I'm being such pain. Would you mind?” “Course not Darlin” He led you to the bathroom just off his room. He grabbed a towel and some shampoo from the cupboard and handed them to you, He turned the shower on “Give it a sec, Generator needs ta kick in” 

You shooed him out of the bathroom, Unwillingly pulling his shirt back off you and stepped under the shower. You couldn’t help but cry out the pain in your head was back, You ran your hand through your hair and felt a sharp pain in your palm. Reaching back you pulled out a piece of mirror that had embedded itself in your scalp, dropped it and let your head back into the water again, Whimpering again as you did. 

Daryl came crashing back into the bathroom “Y/N You okay?” “I'm okay” You stuttered. Not convinced he lingered in the doorway a moment more before leaving. 

The pain had started to recede and you enjoyed the water cascading over you. Once you had managed to wash the blood from your face and hair you turned the water off and stood naked in front of the mirror assessing the general damage to your body. This isn’t something you usually liked to do but it was time for the denial to be lifted and face facts. 

Daryl heard the water shut off and when you hadn’t reappeared after a few minutes he went to check on you again and thats where he found you on the floor sobbing holding your chest. He rushed down to you and scooped you into his arms still naked and shaking from the cold. 

“It’s okay Y/N I got ya now, I got ya always” He carried you to the bed pulling the towel with you and wrapping it around you. He lay you down on the bed stepping back. He finally saw the marks he had been searching for on you for weeks and he wished he hadn’t. They were everywhere old and new mixed together indistinguishable from each other. 

He dropped to his knees at the side of the bed burying his head into the mattress at the side of you. “Y/N please tell me what to do, Ya want him dead. I’ll do it, Ya wanna leave, I’ll take ya. Ya want to be alone, Ya can have my home. Please tell me what you want. Anything. I’ll get it Ya.” 

You looked at him sleepily “I just want to sleep” He looked at you standing and pulled the covers over you. “Okay, Ya need me shout and i'll be upstairs” You looked at him and panicked “No please don’t leave me” He ran his hand through his hand and was suddenly nervous again. 

“Ok, Y/N move over” He put his arm around your shoulder and pulled you toward him, You nuzzled into his shoulder. “Thank you” You murmured groggily and fell into a deep sleep instantly feeling safe.

Daryl lay by her side all night. Watching over her as she slept. The adrenaline was still pumping through his veins from the day's events, He looked over at you worried as you started mumbling and thrashing in your sleep. He tried to calm you by pulling you closer to him and whispering “It’s ok Y/N Your safe now.” Her mumbilings became more frantic “noo, Pleasee stop” Daryl’s heart felt like it was breaking as he held you. 

Suddenly you jolted upright sitting up with the ghost of a scream on your lips. You jumped up and dove across the room panicking, Collapsing into the corner hyperventilating. He was on you in seconds pulling you close again. Telling you it was going to be okay. It took you a minute to realise you really were safe and you relaxed into his arms allowing him to carry you back to the bed. 

You stayed by Daryl’s side for the next few days, They had been amazing, Everything was starting to feel like it was before Spencer; Spencer had been staying with Deanna while he recovered from the beating Daryl gave him which gave you a chance to clear everything of yours out of there. You were offered the house but with the memories you had there you couldn’t stay and besides you were much happier in that little basement room with Daryl than you had been in that huge house with him. 

Rick had agreed with Deanna that Spencer was to stay in her home and be monitored for as long as it took to see he had learnt his lesson and would stay away from you. The alternative being that Rick would let Daryl do what he wanted to him or he would be banished from the town. Depending on the severity of his possible future actions. 

Daryl hadn’t said a word to you about that day since, You can understand him not mentioning Spencer or those events but he hadn’t brought up the kiss or made any form of move since. You had come to think that he hadn’t meant it and that was just him trying to get through to you.

You really wanted to hate him for it, For making you believe someone as amazing as him could possibly care about you but Maybe Spencer was right, Maybe he was the only one who could ever love you. The thought was painful but just as you had decided to face facts about what he had done to you, You also needed to face facts about yourself and your limitations. 

It was only when you were both alone in bed that he ever slightly lowered his walls, When he would open his arms to you in bed and you would both snuggle while you slept. You would always wake alone with Daryl either working in the garage or out running jobs for Rick. 

One morning you woke up alone as always and found Daryl in the kitchen waiting for you, Trying to keep the grin from your face “Good morning!” You said brightly. He looked at you exhausted. “Mornin Y/N, I have to go on a run may be a day or two, You gonna be okay?” 

“Oh, Yeah sure. Do you need me to find somewhere else to stay while you're gone?” The happiness at seeing him already dissipating. “Course not, Me and Carol want ya here. Ya welcome for as long as ya want.” He then muttered “I don’t ever want ya to leave” under his breath. 

“Thank you Daryl, You don’t know how much this means to me, so…? when are you leaving?” 

“Uhm, Now actually. Just wanted to wait for ya to get up to let ya know, Anythin ya want me to keep an eye out for?” “No Daryl it’s ok. I couldn’t live with myself if anyone got hurt looking for something I wanted. The only thing I need is for you to come back to me, Unhurt…. Promise?” He smiled briefly at her taking her hand in his. “I promise Y/N. I promised to protect ya, It’ll take more than a few walkers to stop me keepin tha promise” 

Cuddling up in bed that night you knew it would be difficult to get any sleep, It always was when he left even before when you were with Spencer. You could never quite get a decent night's sleep until Daryl was home safe. You snuggled up to this pillow on his side of the bed breathing in his scent imagining his arms were wrapped around you safe. 

Half way through the next day he returned. Daryl and the group came flooding through the doors of the infirmary carrying an unfamiliar woman between them, She was passed out with blood covering her clothes. Wishing you had a moment to greet him, You and Denise flew into action looking over the woman and cleaning any wounds you could find. Once you were done and determined that she hadn’t been bitten and had no life threatening wounds, You stepped back “Is it ok if i leave you to finish?” You asked denise. She looked to you and then to Daryl pacing at the other end “Yeah” She nodded. “Can you fill those guys in?” You nodded back at her and walked over to them. 

“Hey, She’s ok. No severe injuries Just a bit dehydrated and probably hungry. Shouldn’t be too long before she wakes up.” A few relieved mutters were shared around the group before they departed for home to see their loved ones. You ran into Daryl’s arms and then held him in front of you checking over him for any cuts or marks that may need to be seen to. “m’ok , Really Y/N I’m ok jus’ tired. Can we go home? I needa talk to you” He looked at you desperately.

You nod your head taking his hand and following him towards your house. 

As you were walking you could feel his fingers nervously gripping your hand. He stopped suddenly and stepped in front of you. Reaching his hand to your jumper brushing his fingers over your sunflower, You looked at him with sudden realisation. “It was you?” 

“I heard ya with Carol that day, I couldn’t let your birthday go by and not get ya anything” He blushed looking away from you. 

You reached up and caressed his face gently pulling his face to face you again. “Thank you Daryl. That was incredibly sweet.” You pushed yourself up towards him pressing your lips to his softly, He moaned and tangling his fingers into your hair pulling you closer.” Just like last time it was over far too quickly, He started pacing in front of you. 

“No.no.no” he muttered “I can’t do this, It will take me weeks to forget again” He started pacing faster, his hands ripping at his hair. 

“Daryl stop!” You grabbed his hands pulling them out of his hair. “Please look at me! Why can’t you do this?! You told me you loved me for fuck sake and then act like it never happened! Tell me why!!” You were almost screaming, battling with your tears. How could he turn a moment so perfect into such a mess! 

“I’m 24 years older than ya, Did ya know that Y/N? I’m a filthy good for nuthin OLD redneck, I aint go no right to be with someone like ya! No matter what i want!!” He stopped pacing and looked straight at you again.

“I don’t care about your age! Why would that matter? What about what I want Daryl? You told me that night if i wanted anything you would get it for me, Well i’ve decided. I WANT YOU! It’s always been you!” Your tears are flowing freely now. The nosey neighbours of Alexandria started to gather at the noise, Trying to tune them out and you turned back to Daryl. “WELL? Don’t go all broody Dixon on me now!” 

He looked torn between pain and anger at the scene you two were now creating. Still not speaking to you. 

“You know what, Fuck you Dixon” You put your hands up to the sunflower pin he had got for you, You pulled it off and threw it at his head. He caught it easily, finally breaking his silence. “Ya got any idea what i went through to get this for ya!” He charged back at you, stopping inches from you.

“Ya should care, I’m no good Y/N, I don’t deserve ya” He gazed into your eyes those brilliant blue eyes misting over. “That ain't your decision or your place to tell me what i deserve. It’s mine” You glared at each other for a moment before he couldn’t take it any longer he gripped your face again slamming his lips to yours now, His tongue urgently pressing against your lips begging for entrance. You opened your lips moaning as his tongue touched yours and took charge of it, Kissing you furiously. You moaned into his mouth feeling your eyes rolling back in your head. 

You had never had anyone kiss you like this before, Everything else melted away all of your anger, pain and fear. All that was left was him, Glorious, Gorgeous all consuming Daryl fucking Dixon. 

You heard Carol chuckle behind you “Hey guys, You might wanna think about getting a room. You’ve got quite an audience here” Daryl smiled into your lips as he pulled away. He turned to Carol “Ya know what i think we will” Quick as a flash he had bent down and grabbed you behind your knees throwing you over his shoulder and running with you back to your home and down into your favourite place. When he had locked the door he turned to the bed with you still over his shoulder and put you down gently on the bed. 

“Did ya mean it Y/N? Ya really want me?” He looked down at you searching your eyes for an answer. “I have never wanted anything more in my life, I want you. I want all of you and i want it right now Daryl” You replied feeling the hunger from him burning you. 

Still standing over you, His eyes growing dark. “Lie down” He growled.. 

Grinning you kicked off your shoes and pushed yourself up the bed laying your head on the pillow. He followed you shadowing your body with his pressing himself to you before leaning close to your face lips barely brushing yours. 

“Tell me what else ya want Y/N…..Exactly what you want” 

You looked at him nervously for a second seeing the lust in his eyes matching yours you decided to just go for it. 

“I want your hands….Everywhere” As you spoke you felt his hands grab your hips moving slowly to your stomach then up and under your top. Frustratingly slowly, Your breath hitched as he finally pushed his hands to your breasts gripping them roughly. 

He pulled his hands away and back down to the bottom of your shirt grabbing it and pulling it upwards you raised your arms and let him remove it fully. He reached back down to you, His hands quickly unclasping your bra and throwing it harshly at the wall. His hands were back to your chest, Rolling your nipples with his thumbs. 

You moaned arching your back pushing your chest into his hands. He hit his hips into yours grinding on your core. “Oh shit Darylll” You moaned feeling how hard he was for you. 

He moved his mouth to your chest feverishly kissing your breasts and nibbled on your nipple making you squirm. Daryl then kissed a line down your stomach to your hips stopping to bite each one gently. 

Every touch was heaven, Every time he dragged his tongue over your soft skin it was like a thousand shocks spreading across your skin. He was undoing the zip on your jeans now, You lifted your hips to help him pull them off you. He settled between your legs pushing them wider open and running his finger over the material of your gratefully black lace underwear. 

Daryl looked up at you. Lifting and turning you slightly to look at the back “Holy Shit ya need to wear these all the time!” Still without removing your panties he pressed his lips to your sensitive nub while his fingers scooped the lace out of his way. His fingers then moved to your opening feeling how dripping wet you had gotten for him. 

“Shit Y/N that cuz of me?” He moaned as he pressed his lips back to your clit starting slowly circling his tongue around it and sucking gently. “Oh godd” You had never even get close to going down on you before, It was everything and more. You had to fight yourself from coming undone too soon, You wanted to savour every delicious second of this.

He plunged two fingers into you eliciting an even louder moan from you “Oh goddd Daryl! Please don’t stop, Don’t ever fucking stop.” You moaned between breaths. His mouth and fingers started moving quicker as he could feel your walls tightening on him and your breaths growing shorter, Panting for him. You couldn’t take any more and erupted feeling the wildfire of sensations running across your skin, Screaming his name. He slowed his fingers allowing you to ride your orgasm out onto him. When you slowed he put his lips further down on you licking every drop that gushed out of you. You entwined your fingers into his hair gently pulling him up towards you. 

“You taste so sweet baby, I could do that all day” Your eyes grew hard as you felt your core growing hot again and the wetness returned at his words.

He leant down and gave you another kiss, You put your hands to his chest and pushed him onto his back on the bed. 

“Your turn baby, I've been dreaming of getting my lips around you” You purred. “But first i need to see you, The man i’ve been dreaming of all this time” Moving your hands to his buttons he nodded at you briefly watching you crawl over him almost naked. 

You quickly pulled his shirt off of him, Roaming your hands all over his tight muscled chest and down over his thick arms. Biting your bottom lip trying to memorise every single inch. 

“If ya don’t stop biting that lip woman i ain't gonna give you a chance for those dreams to happen” He winked at you eyes blazing. You quickly dropped your hands to his jeans, Ripping his jeans and boxers down together and throwing them without a thought. You knelt between his legs licking your lips as you saw the size of him. He must’ve  been at least 9 inches long. Your eyes went wide with need as you wrapped your hands around it you brought your mouth to his tip slowly licking the dew from the eye. Moving your hands you licked him from base to tip and swirled your tongue around the tip. 

“Fuck Y/N Get that cock in your mouth now” He demanded. You didn’t need telling twice! You lowered your lips over him, Sheathing your teeth and pushing most of him in your mouth moaning as you felt his huge length hit the back of your throat.

“Y/N no gag reflex? Oh god how did i get so lucky” He groaned putting his hands into your hair and pushing your head back down. You choked as your mouth hit his base, your eyes watering, You hummed to vibrate your throat on his length before pulling up again. It was your turn to watch his eyes roll into the back of his head “Fuck Y/N fuckkkk Your mouth’s incredbile” You could feel your pressure building as you watched him fall apart under your lips. You bobbed your head faster and faster over him. 

“Oh shit, Stop Y/N I’m gonna cum ” He moaned looking down at you seeing you had no intention of stopping. He started thrusting into your mouth meeting your lips in perfect time. It wasn’t long before he exploded down your throat holding your head down to his hilt while he emptied his load straight into your stomach. When he released your head you pulled off slowly then licked his full length clean swallowing every drop. 

He watched you in wonder “Come here Y/N” You crawled back up him straddling his hips staring down at him sweetly. “Ya soooo fucking good at that” You brought your lips to his hungrily biting his bottom lip and started to grind your core onto him. You both moaned into each other's mouths enjoying the friction. You could already feel him below you growing harder again by the second. 

“I need to feel you baby” You moaned into his lips. Daryl pushed himself upright and pulled you with him as he sat up against the bed head. Daryl put his hands under your hips lifting you up and positioning you over his cock, Swiftly moving your panties to the side he started to lower you on to him. 

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders holding your weight as you tried to fit more of him into you. 

“Yesssss, So tight Y/N”. He groaned trying to push further. His eyes locked yours and saw you were struggling; he held you in place for a moment. “Ya ok?” 

“I’m good, You're just so big.The biggest i ever…. It hurts a little” Softening his gaze He kissed you softly. “Let me help ya with that. He brought his mouth to your nipple swirling and nipping here and there while his hand snaked its way to your clit again following the same circle as his mouth, You could feel yourself getting wetter and able to take more of him in. You cautiously tested it out moving your hips slowly up and down until he had filled you fully. You thought he had felt good before it was nothing on this. Pure unadulterated ecstasy. You started moving faster, becoming more confident with the lack of pain. 

Soon you were bouncing wildly onto his length screaming his name as he quickly brought you to another earth shattering orgasm. He brought your mouth to his kissing you swiftly “Shh baby ya know how thin these walls are. Carol & everyone on the street will be listening to ya!” 

“Mmphh, I don’t fucking care let them hear how good my man is fucking me” You rode your high out enjoying every second when you slowed again Daryl lifted you again standing up with you still skewered on him, Carrying you over to the wall beside the door he slammed you into it. Bucking his hips into yours furiously. 

“Y/N I’ve been waiting all ma daym life for a girl like you” He pushed his lips back to yours again. You melted into his lips his words dampening you for the third time, You hadn’t even known it was possible for someone to turn you on so much, To make you want them with every fibre of your being. 

Daryl started panting faster now sweat dripping off of his glistening muscles, You could feel his cock twitching inside you as he jackhammered into you harder and harder each time. 

“Ahhhh” You screamed “That’s it baby….Right there....Your cock is filling me so fucking good. Cum in me Daryl i need it” 

“Oh fuck Y/N Ya so fucking tight, Ya fuckin incredible, I’m gonna cum for you Y/N” 

You both hit your highs at the same time, You screaming his name into the air, eyes rolling backwards and him sinking his teeth into your shoulder exploding deep into you. You collapsed into his chest seeing stars as you felt him pulsing inside you, Your tight pussy milking him of every drop. 

Panting Daryl carried you back to the bed laying you down gently and collapsing with you, He leant forward and pressed sweet loving kisses on your lips. 

You curled into his chest exhausted, Looking up at him with pure love in your eyes. 

“By the way, What you said that day….” He looked at you puzzled brain still cloudy coming down from his climax. He murmured into your hair. “What baby?”

“Well...I love you too. I always have” Daryl smiled into your hair. He chuckled “Well what a relief, How could i have ever known otherwise”

You jabbed him in the ribs gently “Hey, Not fair!” He pulled your face up to his and stared lovingly into your eyes. 

“Ya know i love ya Y/N” His eyes grew serious. “I’d do anything for ya, I’d die for ya even” 

Your lips met his in a sweet kiss. You couldn’t believe he was finally yours, Allll yours. 

You snuggled into his chest feeling him tighten his arms around you and fell into a relaxed deep sleep. 

Next Chapter ---->

[notchesandbullets]

Wherever You Go, I Will Follow (Boxer! Metal Arm! Bakugou x Reader) Underground!AU

Art credit: @/helloclonion on Instagram

Warnings: violence, drinking (everyone is of age), hints of ptsd and depression, mentions of cloning norms, angst but fluffy ending.

Synopsis: Bakugou doesn’t like to talk about what happened to his left arm. Years of fighting underground had made him harder than nails. Society was messed up. Children weren’t born, they were made and any who aren’t adopted are raised in mass orphanages. But you’re special. And you’ve chosen the light even though you’ve seen the darkness. Who else to get through to his heart other than someone like you?

Words: 7.8k

The lights blind you momentarily as they flashed on. The humidity in such a crowded space packed with people was making your skin crawl but it was worth it for the greatly anticipated show.

An underground arena that had this much hype was rare since most fighters didn’t make it past their 20s due to injuries so severe from boxing that it cost them their lives.

There were zero qualified doctors here in the society riddled with old factories that didn't exist anymore and sleazy underground cities where nothing could grow anymore due to the pollution. It had fallen to ruin and only a select handful that could heal like they claimed to. 

Due to that little insignificant fact, that meant the expected lifespan of everyone down here wasn’t more than 30 years of age.

Of course, it varied from section to section, but there was enough pattern to know that there wasn’t long to live once you got to your teens.

Therefore, everyone lived fast and hard down here, trying to experience as much as they could before it was their time to go.

And while you couldn’t say that you blamed them, that wasn’t how you wanted to live. You wanted to fight back against the norm and make a difference that would change this world.

Which is why you were so interested in this particular fighter.

Bakugou Katsuki. 

A reformed individual with a criminal record after a looting with his crew went sideways. He was stronger than most with an attitude and ego bigger than the city itself.

He was renowned to be one of the baddest in the underground and had a personality as difficult as a cloned Siberian tiger.

You sighed and rolled your eyes. You didn’t know why Mic couldn’t come scout today instead of you, you hated how jam packed Bakugou’s fights got, which is why you always steered clear of them.

Well, that and because you weren’t exactly partial to his famed temper.

Then, the glint of metal had you on the edge of your seat, eyes sparkling with curiosity as you caught a better look the second time around as he stomped into the ring. 

Was that… a metal arm?

It looked like something straight out of Marvel’s Winter Soldier from back in the day. Scarily so. 

You faintly recalled that his opponent’s name was Shindou, supposedly the underground’s upcoming rising star to the top. His undefeated reputation preceded him and he certainly was easy on the eyes.

So why did you find your gaze drawn to the arrogant boxer with a cocky smirk on his face across from the guy that was cuter than him?

Metal arm flexing, sweat dripped down his brow, his crimson eyes narrowed in concentration and tinged with a hint of malice as his much larger rival took a swing at him to kick off the round.

Bakugou blocked it head on, retaliating with a force that sent him spiraling towards the cage. His wrapped hands were crusted with blood and he hastily brushed the dirtied, spiky hair that fell into his eyes out of his face, a ravenous hunger coming through as he bounced on the balls of his feet. 

“Is that all you fucking got, extra?!” He screamed in Shindou’s face and you actually had to cover your ears at the sheer volume that carried through the stadium, egging him on.

Your mouth dried as Bakugou caught him across the jaw the second he flew at him, knocking out his opponent in one go, calling the match in under thirty seconds flat. 

Holy shit, he’s good. You thought to yourself, thoroughly impressed, barely able to hear yourself over the crowd’s roar as Bakugou punched his fist in the air victoriously. 

His technique seemed rough to the naked eye but taking a closer look, his form and tactics were flawless. His overall strategy could use a little work, since he seemed particularly keen on using brute strength, but he was really good at turning the tables on his opponent in an instant.

And really good at making sure that they couldn’t get up again after he threw them down.

You had your share of good fighters. Not like that, you dirty minded creature, you were a scout for your father’s gym. 

Aizawa wasn’t a revered name by any means, but that didn’t mean he lacked skill. He was the one who could take down more people than any other pro could, but he absolutely hated media attention. Hence why almost no one knew of his abilities, other than a select few of his colleagues and fellow fighters. 

And you of course. You were so incredibly proud of your him.

He had recently been scouting new talent after taking in several kids: Shinsou, Todoroki and Midoriya. 

The female boxers in his ring were a literal force to be reckoned with. You weren’t sure you’d ever seen someone pack a punch with as much power as Uraraka when she got serious. And no one could beat Yaoyorozu when they stepped in the same arena as her.

In the underground, it was normal to come across those that talked big, but rarely have you ever seen them deliver.

This guy had some raw talent. Perfect. 

Looks like Uncle Hizashi’s instinct was right.

After the fights ended and the exciting night came to a close, you wormed your way through the rows of people lining up to claim their bets that they had placed at the beginning of the night. You were at least smart enough not to get sucked into all that. 

A cage match had too many variables. The odds could change in a split second, no matter how good or bad the fighter was. And since there were no rules, anybody could win. 

You found the boxer in the designated fighters’ alcove security had put there especially for them to wind down. Here, they would be hidden away from the crowd and only the fighters knew about this spot aside from those that protected it.

“You’re good.”

Bakugou snorted, not looking up at the sound of your voice as he continued to unwrap the tape from his hands. “Of course I am, dumbass.”

You cocked an eyebrow at his arrogant attitude but after a fight like that, you guessed the pride was well deserved. After all, the guy he went up against was undefeated. No one had beat him and after Shindou earned his reputation of tearing the limbs off of the fighters he faced, no one wanted to step into the ring with him after that.

But Bakugou didn’t back away, even going so far as to taunt this guy, boldly proclaiming that he’d beat him.

Normally, you would brush off those guys as no good but he made good on what he said he would do, so you were at least a little bit curious.

A little.

You still didn’t like his attitude though. 

Tossing the bloodied wraps in his bag, he ignored you as you just stood there like a lost puppy. People like you didn’t belong in the underground.

Soft.

Bakugou scowled and huffed scornfully, throwing his bandages down with a little more force than necessary. 

Patching up wasn’t too bad this time around. He was lucky the round ended when it did though, that fucking extra had too much boisterous energy and willpower that had carried him this far. Still, it was better than fighting bare-knuckled. 

There was a time when wraps or gloves weren’t allowed. People liked the blood and violence, and craved someone to come out victorious by taking the other’s life.

Fucking sickos if anyone asked him. 

Bakugou slung his gym bag over his shoulder and shouldered his way past you since you had yet to say a word after that initial, begrudging praise. He couldn’t care less if you hung around but he wasn’t going to stick around for the damn media to catch whiff of this fight.

Once it was leaked that he had won, they would take a percentage of his cut and he would have to go without food for another week just to pay rent on that shitty place he stayed at. 

It wasn’t much but it was better than the streets.

“Wait.” You called out, inwardly chastising yourself for being so pathetic. 

You weren’t star-struck or nothing, so why were you feeling so tongue-tied?

Taking a deep breath when he snapped his head around to glare at you in annoyance for stopping him, you rolled your eyes when he tapped his foot impatiently. 

“You gonna take all fucking night, extra?” Bakugou barked at you, clearly not playing around. 

Your eyes widened as the metal plates on his left arm clinked together as he raised up his fist threateningly.

“I’ve got places to go and shit to do.” He grumbled. “So if you’re just going to stand there like a fucking—”

“Do you want to be a part of Aizawa’s gym?” You blurted out before he could get too carried away on his rant.

Bakugou arched an eyebrow in surprise. He hadn’t been expecting that. It was rare that the scruffy old man took on recruits.

Huffing, he stuffed his hands in his pockets and scrutinized you. “Who the hell are you?”

You cringed at how rough his voice laced with suspicion came out but you supposed you could understand. 

Collectors were far too common these days, usually rich scouts from corporations that searched for talented fighters to partake in their financial war when it turned bloody.

You weren’t really sure how it was possible for those airheads to train delinquents into soldiers for their military to fight in the wars that they created, but all you were really concerned about was dodging those scouts.

They weren’t people to trifle with.

Bakugou’s suspicions were misplaced this time around though and you jutted out your hip, planting your hand on it as you regarded him disinterestedly. 

There was only one thing that you could say to get him to trust you.

“He’s my dad.” You said quietly.

The boxer nearly choked on air and you flashed him a cheeky grin when he whipped his head around to glare at you.

“Fuck, seriously?”

You nodded and a heavy exhale whooshed out of his lungs in one breath.

Bakugou cocked up an eyebrow, seeing you in a completely different light. “Holy shit.”

You resisted the urge to dash away under his intrigue but you flinched when his eyes landed on you again.

“Sorry.” Bakugou muttered, averting his eyes. “Just never seen one before.”

You scratched the back of your neck, a habit you picked up from your introverted father whenever he was put in uncomfortable situations. “Yeah…”

Children weren’t born anymore, it was illegal. Partly because expenses couldn’t be covered if people got pregnant and partly because the kids would have nowhere to go, but mostly because the government wanted a controlled population. 

By controlling the gene pool, they could create whoever and whomever they chose, placing them in different status’ around the world to fill in the gaps and create the perfect society.

Except, it really wasn’t all that perfect.

You had been a product of your mom and dad’s unconditional love for each other, something else that was also forbidden, especially in the underground cities where disease ran rampant and claimed numerous innocent lives everyday. 

Your mother wasn’t dead but she did have to leave soon after you were born to protect you from the government officials that would come if she stayed.

Your dad was heartbroken but once every three years, the three of you were reunited under the bridge where seagulls cried and the waves crashed upon the shore.

Once upon a time.

Bakugou crossed his arms over his chest, his bicep bulging and you were willing to wager that he specifically got those measurements for his metal arm tailored to those specifications just so his huge muscles were distractingly the same size. 

He was still not entirely convinced you were who you said you were. He knew that you had to at least be a bastard’s biological child, no one was bold enough or fucking stupid to say that much out loud, but he still wasn’t sure that the old man was your dad.

Not bothering to be discreet as he eyed you up and down, he motioned for you to give him a little more information.

“Aizawa, huh?” Bakugou drawled. “You don’t fucking look like a brat that belongs to him.”

Clearing your throat, you smirked. Now you were the one tapping your foot impatiently. “Thanks, I’m told I have my mother’s eyes.”

He glared at your sarcasm but you didn’t care.

Craning your neck to the side to get a better look at that beautiful arm of his, you pouted when he ducked out of range.

“Prove that he’s your dad.” He demanded and you feigned innocence before shooting him a grin when he rolled his eyes irritably. 

Crossing your arms over your chest, you responded cheekily, “Coffee and cats are his two favorite things in the world, and he only tolerates Uncle Hizashi on a whim when he’s wasted.”

Bakugou barked out laughing and you smiled at the boisterous sound escaping from his lungs. 

“So,” You kicked your feet, scuffing the dirt as you sidled over to him. “You in or what?”

His left arm glinted in the dim, flickering light of the alcove and he tucked in his chin the slightest bit to stare down at you, the corner of his mouth quirked up.

“Hell yeah.”

Exactly one year later, you were weaving in between the clustered bodies in the dingy underground bar you were at to make your way to the obnoxious and rowdy group in the back, all while balancing a tray of beers in one hand.

They had just arrived a few minutes ago, eagerly chatting with your dad, who was their trainer, even though he looked like he’d rather be anywhere else but here.

Your skirt flared around your ankles as you sashayed through the crowd dancing on the dancefloor, a couple strands of hair sticking to your forehead from the exertion of how many tables you waited on already.

“First round’s here!!” You announced, beaming brightly at the packed group of 15.

Shoji, Mineta, and a few others couldn’t make it due to conflicting schedules. But it was alright, they would come again another time. Besides, you were quite sure that a special someone couldn’t care less if they made it or not for this particular day. 

“YES!!” Kaminari shouted escatically, throwing his hands up in the air.

A chorus of “thank you’s” came from the girls as Ashido eagerly reached for her first drink of the night, downing half the bottle in one go. You predicted she was going to be out like a light within the hour if she kept that pace up. 

“Don’t get shitfaced, Kaminari.” Jirou twirled a strand of her dark hair cockily as she teasingly held the last one out of arm’s reach. “Lightweight.”

“Jirou!!” Kaminari protested while the table burst into laughter.

The edgy fighter eventually gave into him, shaking her head in disapproval when he proceeded to chug all of it straight like it was some kind of shot. A knowing smirk appeared on her face when he choked.

“Told you so.” She rubbed in his face as Asui leaned into her side.

“Shut up!!” Kaminari shouted between violent bouts of coughing. It only got worse when Ashido slapped his back, already drunk.

But the slight pink dusted across his cheeks clued you in on what he was really doing.

You shook your head. If he was any more dense, you would’ve smacked him upside the head. Maybe then he would’ve come to his senses and that he didn’t need to do all these things to impress her. 

Jirou never hated anything more than someone who felt fake to her.

As you distributed the rest of the drinks to a clueless Todoroki, a way too eager Midoriya, and handed water to Koda, who thanked you shyly with a small nod.

You smiled at him, then left to the bar that your uncle was managing to get the order for the next table while Iida shouted for everyone to make sure they drank responsibly so that they didn’t cause any problems for you. 

But it was largely ignored in favor of raising their beers in a toast for the birthday boy.

Bakugou scowled in the corner that he was shoved into, wondering why he of all people had to be dragged to this shitty celebration for a birthday he couldn’t care less about. It was too loud here and it was making his head hurt. The only consolation he got was that you were a rare sight, wearing a dress that he had bought for you a week ago.

The seamstress who had made it for him specifically had charged him an incredible amount of money for it, since fabric of any kind that wasn’t made from recycled garbage liners was nearly impossible to come by.

But being a part of the ring of fighters that made up Aizawa’s Warriors gave him credibility and enabled him to make even more money than he did before, so it wasn’t a problem.

That much. 

After rent on his rundown place and scrounging for food, he had saved up the rest for weeks before he was able to afford the pale blue satin dress edged with delicate white lace around the sleeves that cascaded off your shoulders. The tightly-fitted bodice that wrapped around your waist was a simple leather corset, accentuating those curves of yours more than should be legally allowed.

You looked absolutely delicious. 

You continued to sweep around the tavern, oblivious to the looks you were getting. You had a bit of expertise in waitressing due to the lack of income your dad was able to provide so you had to convince him that you really didn’t mind helping out with the staff tonight.

The bar, owned by your Uncle Hizashi, a retired fighter but not retired in spirit, had all the profits go to the orphanages the city couldn’t keep track of or be bothered to pay for; which enabled those kids who were abandoned to have a roof over their heads in all the uncertainty.

The state of those houses holding those homeless children were horrendous. 

But your dad and uncle were taking steps to create something new that would provide them with some relief and a new family.

Kirishima clapped the ash-blond on the shoulder, jarring him out of his annoyance. “Come on, Bakugou, loosen up!!” 

He clicked his tongue and scowled at the red-haired guy’s energy. No one would think that this fun-loving guy and people person would be such a terrifying fighter in the arena.

Kirishima frowned when he noticed his lack of enthusiasm. “C’mon man, I know this isn’t your scene but Y/N worked really hard on this.”

Bakugou’s drink nearly spilled as he set it down abruptly. He wasn’t expecting that. Aizawa had told him that his friends had arranged this.

Picking up on his confusion, Kirishima then proceeded to tell him about how you gathered everybody to ask if they’d be willing to attend the party and how all of them enthusiastically said yes. You had gotten special permission from your Uncle Hizashi to borrow the VIP section of his bar and convinced your father to go easy on their training today. 

Really, the grumpy man with the metal arm should be thanking you since you were the reason all of them weren’t sore to death with barely enough energy to keep their heads up. 

Kirishima was going to blame it on Aizawa. He was tough on them. Too tough. No one should be that determined to make their students push past their limits but everyone knew it came from him caring more than anyone else. 

They were all like his adopted children, in a weird, skewed way. But, no one was going to argue against it. None of them had their biological parents in the picture. 

Besides, Aizawa had enough room for them all to crash in his home. An abandoned mansion overrun with thick green vines but had no working electricity whatsoever looked like something straight out of one of those old horror movies back in the 3000s. 

Bakugou scoffed. Like hell should he care about whether or not you planned this. He didn’t ask you to do any of this, you decided to do it all on your own. 

“Whatever.” He grumbled, snatching his bottle before stalking away from his shocked friends left in the dust. 

Todoroki raised an eyebrow as Kirishima sighed and Midoriya’s expression saddened when he saw him leave. They were supposed to be celebrating…

And yet, all three of them knew why today was so hard for the explosive boxer.

You frowned as you noticed the slumped figure retreating to the back of the establishment. Finishing up serving the drinks for the table you were waiting on, you briefly made a detour to your uncle and asked if it was alright that you take a break.

Ever the doting uncle who loved to spoil you rotten, Mic’s eyes softened understandingly when he noticed who you were staring after and granted you permission.

“Just don’t tell your dad I let you off the hook.” He bargained with an exaggerated wink and you giggled.

“I won’t.” You reassured, setting down the tray and squeezing his hand in thanks.

Then, you followed Bakugou. 

He disappeared around the corner and as soon as you tailed him, you came to a stop in front of a heavy door. Your brow furrowed, wondering why he would be coming here. 

Step after familiar step you took until you eventually came to a standstill on the roof.

Behind you, the heavy door slammed close but it sounded different than usual. Something metal crashed into it, denting it by the sounds of it, and it wasn’t until you turned around that you found Bakugou’s vermilion eyes boring into yours.

The wind was stronger up here and you pinned your arms down to your side, knowing full well from experience how mortifying it would be if your skirt decided to flip up right now.

“What the fuck are you doing up here?” He snapped angrily.

To his surprise, you didn’t look the least bit fazed by his outburst.

“I live here.” You responded nonchalantly, undeterred by his characteristic abrasiveness. 

If Bakugou was startled at that revelation, he didn’t show it. If anything, he looked even more irked, though you didn’t know why. He didn’t have any reason to suspect you of lying but in this world, it was safer to be skeptical than sorry.

However, you hadn’t given him one reason to doubt you the entire year you’ve known him. Not one.

So if anything, he trusted you more than the majority of the rats in his rundown city and just as much as his small circle of extras. 

Picking your way past him carefully since the roof didn’t have a safety rail, you made your way towards the curtained tent hiding behind the generator. Pushing the tattered material back, you showed him the bedroll and small table set up with a few bottles of water, a case of beer and a worn book. 

Bakugou’s mouth dropped open but he recovered quickly so by the time you turned back around, he had the same indifferent, kind of irritated look on his face.

Then, he was a bit at a loss of what to do. It wasn’t often he was faced with the dilemma of being wrong so blatantly. Should he apologize? Even when he didn’t say anything but the thought that you were crazy ran through his head? Should he apologize for something you weren’t even aware of?

Nah, fuck that.

You gingerly took a seat at the edge of the roof, leaning back on your hands as your legs dangled. Patting the spot next to you invitingly, a soft smile curved on the corners of your mouth as he grumbled but came over anyway. He plopped down on your right side and you took a moment to study him. 

He looked exhausted, spirit whittled down to the bone until there was nothing left for him to salvage. His eyes were bloodshot and the beer bottle in his hand probably wasn’t doing any favors for him.

Glancing at him out of the corner of your eyes, you asked worriedly, “You okay?”

He huffed in annoyance at your question.

“Fine.” He ground out through clenched teeth and you shut your mouth.

Bakugou clearly wasn’t looking to talk but you yearned to help. You wanted to be there for him. 

Kirishima hadn’t told you much, only that the incident that took Bakugou’s arm happened a long time ago and wasn’t something he liked to relive. 

You didn’t push it. You had your own share of traumatic experiences in this god-forsaken place and hated nothing more than being forced to talk about by a well meaning friend. So you understood it well. 

Instead of pushing the topic, you sat with him in silence. You didn’t ask why he walked away from the party or why it looked like he was drowning himself in his sorrows to forget something, you just offered him a quiet place to sit, with the company of yours truly.

Fate was flawed. You knew that ever since you were born.

The warped sense of justice that the city had was suffocating. People were put away in prison only to be left to rot with no chance of redemption. Those that made it out were casted out to the underground with no hope to see the light. 

Combatants-for-hire wasn’t an unusual job to take on in the ruined city. All Might knew you too had been mixed up in some shit. 

But it was what made you strong in the end.

“I’m here.” Was all you said softly, staring out at the city lights that were especially illuminating tonight.

Thanks to the heavy pollution, the stars could no longer be seen with the naked eye so this was the closest thing you could get to those twinkling lights raised high in the sky. 

“It’s funny.”

You tilted your head towards him as he spoke and was a bit surprised to find him looking directly back at you with an expression you couldn’t quite decipher. 

His eyes were a little dazed, probably from the alcohol, but he looked a little more grounded than he did a minute ago.

Bakugou chuckled but it was short and grated against your ears for a second.

It was mocking.

He tipped his head back, downing the rest of his drink before harshly wiping his mouth with the back of his hand while he crushed the bottle in his metal fist.

Leaning over, he let go and let the shiny crystals plummet to the ground below. 

You smiled faintly, watching how they sparkled. It looked so pretty. 

Sitting back down, Bakugou mimicked your posture and huffed out a dry laugh. “Out of all the shitty extras in the world, you would be the only one to fucking get through to me.”

Your puzzlement must’ve shown through his alcohol-induced haze because the next thing you knew was that he teetered to the side as he lost control of his equilibrium and careened into you.

Out of reflex, you caught him and gasped at the temperature difference as his cold metal arm pressed against you. You could feel it through the thin fabric of your dress and latched onto it when he moved to pull away.

“Sorry.” Bakugou slurred curtly as he gathered his bearings and tried to detangle you from him. 

But his coordination wasn’t the best and he was growing more and more frustrated when you wouldn’t let go.

He snarled. “Let go.”

You shook your head firmly. “You could fall.”

Oh yeah. You two were on the roof. 

This was a bad idea. 

He didn’t know how he ended up here with you but he needed to leave. Immediately. 

Bakugou stumbled to his feet, somehow managing to lose his way halfway to the door and face-planted in something that smelled faintly of lavender. Snuggling into the soft thing that was rubbing against his face, his brow furrowed in annoyance as you giggled at him.

“You have to take me out on a date first if you want that.” You teased lightly and he immediately sat up as he realized he had crashed in your bed.

He scrambled upright, nearly falling over again in his haste. “Fuck, I’m—”

“It’s alright, Katsuki.” You reassured nonchalantly, coming down to sit beside him, but not close enough where your legs were touching.

Bakugou’s mouth twitched at the sound of his first name but his eyes softened the barest bit and he didn’t fight against it. 

Before he met you, he hated his name. It was a reminder that the place he came from was from a lab, cooked up like some sort of sick science experiment to fulfill a role in society that was chosen by some prick who had money.

It was a reminder that he wasn’t real. That he was expendable to all those bastards that ran the world.

But when you used it, when you spoke it with such tentative curiosity and genuine concern, he didn’t feel so unimportant anymore.

“Fuck.” Bakugou breathed as you leaned closer to examine his face.

Your forehead creased in worry and you raised a hand to his head to check his temperature to make sure he wasn’t running a fever. “Are you feeling alright?”

Squeaking when he suddenly grabbed your hand, you gasped in shock when he tugged you towards him. 

You crashed into his chest and your cheeks flushed hotly as his chiseled form honed from years of training molded against your front. 

His arm wrapped around your shoulders and it took a second to realize that his metal arm was planted firmly on the ground, keeping the two of you steady. 

But when you reached out your fingers to brush against it, he ripped away from you.

You pulled back immediately, apology weighing in your gaze as your eyes flicked away from him. “I’m sorry, I—”

“It’s fucking hideous.”

You balked at his tenor. “W-What?!”

Bakugou looked away from you, his gaze fixed on the ground behind you as he rested his chin on top of your head, stubbornly refusing to look you in the eye as you breathed steadily against the base of his neck.

You were warm. Delicate.

Precious.

He didn’t expect someone like you to understand.

His vermilion eyes were shadowed by the ghosts of his past that continued to haunt him and he sighed heavily, curling his arm around you tighter. He didn’t want to let you go just let but he didn’t know why you weren’t pushing him away. 

Your soft voice rang out. “Katsuki, what do you mean? It’s not hideous at all.”

He clicked his tongue but otherwise didn’t verbalize his disagreement. 

“How could someone like you possibly understand this shit?” He spat but you didn’t recoil like he was half hoping you would.

At least then he would have an excuse to leave, under the guise that he had upset you. But you didn’t do any of that. 

Too fucking precious. Always saw the good in everything just like that shitty nerd. 

You closed your eyes in defeat. “No… I suppose I can’t.”

You didn’t quite understand him. 

The bite in his tone sounded like you had hit too close to home, and yet, his thumb was absentmindedly running over the satin of your dress that he had bought you, your side heating up under his chest and warmth bloomed from your heart.

And yet, he wasn’t pushing you away.

Leaning down, you rested your forehead against his shoulder, your heart beating too loud for your own ears. “You don’t have to say anything, but I know what it feels like to be an outcast too.”

Bakugou eyed you cautiously, wondering if this was some sort of trick because he was drunk and definitely not as attentive as normally but your tone was open.

Honest. 

“Yeah, maybe you do.” He scoffed, scorning you under his breath. “Maybe you don’t. It doesn’t fucking matter to me.”

“Maybe it doesn’t.” You whispered, tracing patterns on his chest as your head lolled to the side to gaze at him with complete vulnerability. “But just know that you aren’t alone.”

Bakugou whipped his head around as you stared at him. Didn’t you get it already? He didn’t want to fucking taint you with all of this shit that went on down here.

He didn’t want to tell you that he had to settle tinkering with whatever scrap metal he could find in the junkyard just to make his left arm operational again, didn’t want to tell you that the government had offered him a real replacement prosthetic but at the cost of becoming one of their combatants fighting in a war he never chose and as a result, he was casted to the side when something went wrong.

He had lost everything. 

The second he had been tossed out on the street, he had come crawling back to Kiko, a spunky little girl a part of the UA orphanage in the east, one of the ones that Mic funneled money towards to fund their food and supply them with fresh water every three days.

The girl, no more than ten at the time, with her dirty blonde pigtails sticking out on either side of her lopsided head, had been born with a unique appearance.

The officials called it a defect, as though they were talking about an object of mass production.

Fucking disgusting.

It never seemed to bother the girl though, and she often claimed that she was tougher than all those men in fancy suits. Bakugou liked her spirit already.

Kiko had had this habit of tracing her stubby little fingers all over the scars from his fights whenever he came to visit and it had been her idea to forgo a realistic prosthetic from the corporation that was looking to hire him and just go out, full badass, just like Bucky in the Winter Soldier.

It was her favorite movie but Bakugou claimed he had absolutely no idea where she learned that kind of language from. 

He had chuckled and patted her on the head at the time, swearing to hell and back that there was no fucking way he was going to build a metal arm. He would scare the kids if he did that, not to mention, full-grown adults.

But Kiko simply bounded over to him and beamed up at him like nothing was wrong in the world. It was fucking contagious, begging for him to at least consider it, selling the point of how cool it would look.

“You would be a superhero, Bakugou!!” She cheered, raising her hands up high, demanding for him to lift her up even though she wasn’t five anymore. “And you could save everybody, just like you want to!!”

He never got a chance to show her the finished product. Would she have liked it? Would she run around, screaming in his shitty apartment as she played with it when he detached it for cleaning? Would she try to hit him over the head with it when she thought he wasn’t looking like the cheeky brat he knew that she was?

Bakugou could hear her squeals of excitement so vividly some nights that he woke up from his terror of that night, soaked in cold sweat from a memory of the girl he had failed to save.

Defeated and overwhelmed by his circumstances after being rejected by the very people who sought him out because of his talent, he had ventured to the orphanage that night and on a whim, demanded her to live with him. He would take care of her, protect her, teach her things that she couldn’t learn from anyone else.

The widest smile he had ever seen stretched across Kiko’s face and she accepted his demands with eyes tearing up with joy. 

He vowed to protect her. 

He failed. 

He had an unsettled score with the government officials he had upset on his way out from the lab that day they told him he had been scraped from the program. 

The enraged fighter went on a rampage, tearing down anything in his path and clearing out the experiment rooms, offering freedom and a second chance to anyone willing and brave enough to take it. 

And as a result, many took him up on his offer and fled that place with white walls and food too bland to actually be considered nutritious.

There was no doubt about it. He pissed them off the day he saved the others.  

They had come for her and taken her last year on his birthday as revenge for freeing those they were experimenting on. He found a crumpled, poorly wrapped, newspaper covered package lost in the clutter of his apartment when he got home.

The creaking old door that kept out winter drafts had caved in, signifying that it had broken in with considerable force, and Kiko was gone.

That crushed gift hidden under the stairwell was the only thing that remained of her.

Inside, there was a small metal pin in the shape of an explosion. For his personality. Corny, but the little girl was simple-minded and liked the sentiment she found in things that she repurposed. 

Bakugou always thought it was fucking weird but he hadn’t taken it off ever since that day. 

The metal plates of his arm glided, clinking together softly as the polished steel lifted to trace your jaw, the pin visible on the inside of his wrist.

To keep her close to him always.

He had stormed their stronghold but by the time he got there, they were gone. Everything.

Every vial, all the equipment, every single one of the samples and officials had disappeared into thin air. 

Bakugou had tried everything to track Kiko down, paying off the highest crime organizations to get more eyes out on the street but nothing worked. She was gone.

And she wasn’t ever going to come back.

You were silent when he finished telling you his depressing life story, sure you were bored to death but when he started to get up, he found that he couldn’t get very far with you draped over his body like this.

Bakugou had a fleeting thought that you had fallen asleep while he had been lamenting and rehashing every depressing detail from his past but he noticed the stuttering rise and fall of your back.

Well, at least you weren’t asleep, but now he didn’t know how to feel when he had told you all of that and you had yet to say anything.

“I know you don’t want pity.” You whispered into his shoulder.

He raised an eyebrow but waited for you to continue.

“I know there’s nothing that I can say that would make the pain go away or bring Kiko back,” You said softly. “But I’m here for you.”

Bakugou pressed his cheek against your hair and inhaled your sweet scent, closing his eyes as an unseen weight lifted from off of his shoulders. 

“Thank you.” He murmured quietly with great difficulty. 

You smiled slightly, glad that you were able to provide him with a little bit of comfort. “Anytime.”

The two of you stayed entwined for a few more moments, time stretching as he held onto you, soaking up your soothing presence while you relaxed against his hold.

“Katsuki?” You called quietly when he still didn’t let go after five more minutes.

Tightening his arm around you, he frowned when you struggled in his grip. 

“Stop fucking moving.” He demanded and you ceased fighting in favor of pulling back to flick him on the forehead. “Oi, did you just fucking flick me?!”

“Yes.” You replied bluntly, snickering when he rolled his eyes. 

There he was.

Bakugou protested hotly when you pushed down his arms to untangle from him but you shushed him with a giggle, leaning back to open the box of beer by your bed, grabbing two bottles and fishing for something from underneath your pillow

In the underground city where liquor was the only thing that was plentiful, you would take what you could get. 

Bakugou caught the beer that you threw at him in midair with an expression a mix between annoyance that you tossed it at his face and gratitude that you knew how he needed another drink after that tale. 

“What the fuck is that for?” He scoffed, pointing to the roll of gauze in your hand. “You get a papercut or some shit?”

You rolled your eyes in disbelief, failing to notice how his eyes raked over you to look for any kind of injury you might be hiding from him, and held it up to him. “No, but it looks like you did.”

He almost spilled his beer that he just popped the lid off of, mouth furrowing in a deep-seated frown when he followed your gaze and landed on the cuts on his knuckles from the fight that happened earlier that night.

“Fuck.” He cursed, setting down the beer hard to wipe up the blood.

He hadn’t even known when he got hurt. 

But he didn’t even get started on tending to it when your gentle hands wrapped around his and you took over for him. 

“Here.” You murmured, pouring some water onto a clean cloth and dabbing carefully at his cuts. “Let me.”

“You’re fucking weird.” Bakugou grumbled but allowed you to take over. 

Your touch was so much lighter than the rough pads of his fingers. He was always too impatient whenever he had to patch himself up, jerking at the bandages to get them to lay flat when they wouldn’t cooperate.

It was a fucking pain to stop the bleeding when his shitty fingers fumbled with it. It was a trip to hell and back every single time he had to attend to wounds he got from boxing.

Your nose scrunched up in concentration as you finished cleaning the area before securely wrapping the soft cotton around his knuckles.

“There.” You declared in satisfaction, sitting back on your knees.

Admiring your handiwork with an unreadable expression, it was a second before Bakugou nodded begrudgingly with thanks.

“It’s not complete shit.” 

You giggled. “Thanks.”

He picked back up his drink and took a swig.

Offering up yours, you hid your surprise when he actually recognized the gesture and clinked his glass against yours.

The distinct hum from the music in the establishment below filtered up to the roof, filling the silence and the occasional echo of steel grating against each other. The low lights were pleasant and the ambiance was soothing as you two drank away the night.

You shivered, catching a chill as the night air blew by, but before you could reach for your blanket, Bakugou was tucking you in his side. 

“Get over here, dumbass.” He mumbled, turning his face away so that you wouldn’t see his blush. “You’re gonna get fucking sick.”

You noticed how he still kept your metal arm away from you. That wound was still too fresh and somehow you had a feeling that no matter how much time would pass, things would never quite be the same again.

Playing with the hem of your dress, you smiled softly. “But I wanted to wear it today, it was a special occasion.”

Special occasion his ass. It was fucking freezing out here and all you were wearing was that summer dress. His brow knitted as you puffed out your cheeks, breath visible, and he wasn’t so sure he wanted to leave you out here when it was so cold out.

“I’m sorry.” Bakugou apologized quietly as you lost interest in toying with the pale blue satin and folded your hands neatly in your lap.

At your questioning gaze, he suppressed the urge to roll his eyes but heat crept up his neck.

“For storming out on the celebration you planned, dumbass.” He grumbled, flicking you on the forehead in a similar fashion hat you had done earlier.

Whining, you held onto your forehead as you made an exaggeration of pain. He rolled his eyes at your antics and you giggled, snuggling further into his side.

“You’re warm.” You mused.

Bakugou scowled, cheeks still pink from the embarrassment tingling through his whole body. “Oi, are you fucking ignoring m—”

“Of course not.” You retorted, pinching his side in retaliation for the flick he gave you before your voice dropped a little. “It’s just— There isn’t anything you need to apologize for. I understand.”

Those words, they were so simple and yet, warmth bloomed in his chest from how they fell from your lips. 

And he could see that you were truly genuine.

He had rejected your kindness earlier when Kirishima had told him you had planned out all of this for him. He had never quite been accustomed to generously that lacked a price or some kind of condition.

Then again, he had never met someone quite like you. 

As you rested against his shoulder, Bakugou took the empty beer bottle from you and placed it on the other side of him so that you didn’t break it and cut yourself when you woke up from your little nap.

He gazed out into the city that had caused him so much misery and wondered how it was even possible for someone like you to exist.

Birthdays, he still hated them, but maybe, just maybe, he could start to heal.

It would start by telling that old man that you fucking needed a new place to sleep that wasn’t the goddamn roof.

It was a good thing he knew just the place you could go.

Brushing back the hair out of your eyes, he allowed a small smile to form on his face as you breathed softly, evenly and he smirked against the top of your head as a thought crossed his mind. And even though he knew you couldn’t hear him, he still murmured quietly.

“How do you feel about seagulls and sand, princess?”

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Healing

Prompts: So I’ve recently binged all your SS fics practically and I know you SWAMPED in prompts, but if this sounds like something you could enjoy creating I’d love to request a promt as well:

Set in your SS Butterfly Project, could we maybe get Virgil reacting to all the sides (specifically L and Ro) learning to heal, and bouncing between helping sooth everyone’s anxiety over all the changes? I’d just love under appreciated Virgil helping in the moments in between the healing process if that makes any sense…

I appreciate the he*l out of you regardless if you take this prompt or not; and you deserve all the kindness the world has to offer you. ❤️ - mylgbtbabies

I would take any fic where somethigns off and virgil knows it. Someone: Im sure its fine!! Virgil: Idk man Im anxiety my spooder sense be tingly. - anon

If you're taking requests for Sanders Sides uwu can I ask for something Virgil-centric? I just love the emo boy - anon

ahh yes the babes

Read on Ao3

Warnings: ngl this one's pretty much fluff

Pairings: DLAMP, LAMP, DLAMPR, that found family

Word Count: 3538

Healing: To restore to health or soundness; cure.

Healing: To ease or relieve (emotional distress).

* * *

Healing isn’t a linear process.

It’s messy, it’s hard, and no one should expect it to be anything otherwise. Humans are complicated, more often than not brains are absolute garbage, and trying to navigate everything on your own is difficult. Really difficult.

So is learning how to ask for help.

Virgil sighs and leans back against the couch as Roman continues to type on his laptop. He risks a glance up at Princey to see his brow furrowed slightly in concentration. Every so often he’ll quirk his eyebrow in the way that means he just made a hilarious typo and has to go back. Virgil hides a smile as he turns his attention back to his phone. Can’t intrude too much on the process, that’s not how it works. He glances up to make sure no one’s coming down the stairs and shifts his weight again.

“Are you alright?”

There’s Roman, taking care of everyone else first. “I’m good, Princey, just trying not to fuck up my spine.”

“…do you want to come sit up here with me? I won’t mind.”

Virgil cranes his neck back, letting a slow and lazy smile come across his face. “Nah, ‘m good right here. You just make with the typey typey, okay?”

Roman smiles too, victory achieved. “Okay.”

“That’s my Princey.”

Virgil isn’t humble enough to not feel the little rush of pride at seeing a quick flush spread to Roman’s ears as he turns his attention back to his laptop. Suppressing a chuckle, he starts mindlessly scrolling again, getting sucked back into whatever’s contaminating his dash this time. What’s this about a k-drama…?

“Oh! There you are!”

Patton might not notice the way Roman startles, but Virgil does. He looks up and quickly shakes his head as Patton comes the rest of the way down the stairs.

“It’s work hours, Pat.”

“Oh, I thought—“ Virgil gives him a look that he knows Patton understands as Roman is setting the rules here, and he nods quickly— “well don’t mind me, I’m just getting a drink.”

Roman relaxes slightly as Patton bustles in and out of the kitchen, then a little more as Virgil reaches up to squeeze his hand.

“Thank you,” comes the quiet mumble.

“I gotcha, Princey. Work hours are your thing, I’m happy to help.”

Sure enough, a few minutes later, when Logan comes down the stairs carrying his computer, he takes one look at them in the living room before his mouth drops open slightly.

“Is it…work hours?”

“Mhm,” Virgil says, letting his head loll back, “you wanna join?”

“May I? I can be quiet as well.”

Virgil looks up at Roman. Roman glances up, smile softening when he sees it’s Logan, and gently pats the sofa next to him. Logan smiles too and yeah, okay, Virgil’s fine with his edge lord image fading slightly if it means he gets to be fond at watching these two nerds be gentle with each other.

The two of them start to type on their laptops, Logan’s constant murmurs of what he’s working on an amusing contrast to Roman’s silent yet expressive face. Virgil keeps the barrier there, warding off Janus and Remus when they try and drag the others into the dramatics—if anyone, especially Janus, tries to deny that he’s as much a part of it as Remus is, do not under any circumstances believe them—to keep the nerds safe.

After a while, when Virgil re-emerges from whatever deep dive he’s gone on this time—and yeah, he might be looking to pirate that k-drama, maybe—he realizes there’s no more typing. He looks up, a little concerned, only to be incredibly glad no one else is around to see him melt at the sight on the couch.

Roman’s laptop lies partially closed on his lap, the screen just touching the tops of his knuckles. His head and shoulders are angled toward Logan and his eyes are closed. Logan’s glasses are slipping slightly off his face, his head on Roman’s shoulder, eyes closed, lips parted slightly as his hair falls back into his face. His laptop has been set on the coffee table, somewhere safe.

Virgil shakes his head, standing and carefully taking Roman’s laptop from him. He saves whatever’s on it and sets it next to Logan’s. Then he takes the blanket from the back of the couch and carefully drapes it over the two of them. He slides Logan’s glasses from his face and undoes the top button of Princey’s collar. Can’t do for them to have a red mark, after all. And he sits back down to keep watch.

Sometimes, when they’re doing better, they ask for more. Roman comes to him sometimes and asks, very very quietly, but he does ask, for Virgil to come sit with him by his room. Virgil happily takes up residence in the warm spot in the hallway next to Roman’s room, right where the big windows are, soaking in the warmth from outside as Roman closes the door gently behind himself.

Something that everyone had to learn pretty quick once Logan and Roman started reaching out was that both of them are extremely private people. On the surface, it might seem like they’re different—and if they’re being honest, they certainly thought they were very different—but they aren’t. Not really. Roman hides behind being too much, Logan hides behind not being anything. Whether or not anyone actually knows them without any of the facades is up for debate.

Except each other. They…they…know each other.

Virgil would be lying if he said he isn’t a little jealous of how close the two of them have become. There are soft smiles they only have for each other now, little brushes of their hands against each other’s as a constant way of saying ‘I’m here, I see you, are you alright?’ And sometimes it’s Virgil’s job to sit outside one of their rooms as they try and hold each other steady.

Their company feels better than their solitude and it’s up to them to decide where that line is.

Today, Virgil’s just keeping an eye on Roman. Fielding off anyone who comes to knock on his door, glaring away the more persistent ones who don’t seem to understand that Roman needs his space right now, kindly fuck off. Logan comes around the corner and immediately understands and he sees them murmur quietly to each other when it’s time for dinner.

When he watches Logan, it’s a little harder. Because poor Logan is so used to pushing himself to the side to be able to make decisions, to help do things, that Virgil has to remind everyone involved that no, Logan’s enforced a boundary that means he doesn’t want to be disturbed right now, he’s allowed to do that, let’s leave him be for now. Left brain boys have to stick together.

But the others, to a certain extent, are easy. They care about Roman and Logan as much as Virgil does, and if it’s to help them, they’ll do whatever they have to. Protecting them from themselves…that’s another story.

Logan is too fucking good at pretending he’s fine. He’s too good at pretending he doesn’t have emotions, that he doesn’t care what’s going on unless it’s the absolute most illogical thing that’s happening. So, sometimes he has to work a little harder to get Logan to admit it.

“L,” he mutters as the others continue to argue, “check-in.”

“I’m fine.”

Janus shoots him a look as he continues to argue. Virgil tugs gently on Logan’s sleeve.

“No one’s gonna be mad if you say you aren’t, bud.”

Logan shakes his head firmly, eyes still trained on the way Patton and Janus are insisting that they’re the one right.

“Hey,” Virgil says softly, making them take a step back, “I need you to look at me, L.”

“What is the purpose of this?”

“You’re seizing up again.” Logan looks down at his hands, sees the way they’re shaking as Virgil gently runs a finger over the back of one of them. “It’s okay, bud, you’re gonna be fine, you just have to let yourself not be for a moment, okay?”

Logan risks a glance at the others but they haven’t noticed anything. Well, that’s not entirely accurate. Judging by the way Janus is being more dramatic than normal and Roman has turned so his back is facing them, they’ve noticed something’s wrong and are purposefully not noticing anything else.

“Logan,” Virgil calls, “do you need a minute?”

Logan’s mouth opens, closes, then he nods sharply.

“Okay, thank you, I’m really proud of you for saying that. Can I sink you out?”

Another sharp nod.

Virgil sets his hand gently on Logan’s elbow and sinks them out, right outside Logan’s room. He nods to the door.

“Do you need to be alone for a moment? Or do you need me with you?”

Logan looks at the door. His hands shake again. Virgil sees them twitch toward his legs. Then he looks at Virgil and oh, okay, no, Virgil’s definitely coming inside.

“Come on,” he says, guiding hand still on Logan’s shoulder, “just through here, okay? I’m gonna get you a glass of water.”

Logan looks small, Virgil decides he doesn’t like that. He presses a glass of water gently into Logan’s hands, watches as he drinks the whole thing without complaint, and then carefully sets one of Logan’s fluffier pillows into his lap for Logan to hang onto.

“Do you want to sit here for a moment?”

Logan nods, then buries his face in the pillow and breathes. Virgil closes his eyes and starts to breathe too, keeping it slow and steady as he breathes in, then out, then in, then out. When Logan’s breathing starts to hitch, he opens his eyes and scoots a little closer, wordlessly offering a shoulder. Logan takes it after a moment, his face still buried in the pillow even as his head comes to rest on Virgil’s shoulder.

“Let it out, bud,” Virgil murmurs into the crown of Logan’s head, “don’t try and keep any of that shit in you. It’s just me.”

Watching Logan cry isn’t fun. He doesn’t recommend it. But it’s much, much better than the alternative.

“Hey,” he calls again, a fresh glass of water in his hand, “drink, bud, it’ll help.”

Logan drinks, a little slower this time, as Virgil settles back on the bed, one leg folded under him.

“Do you want to talk about it? Or do you want me to distract you?”

Logan shakes his head. “I…do not think distraction would be helpful.”

“Okay. Do you want me to give you the logical reason why this is fine, or the emotional one where I tell you how much we care?”

Logan sniffles.

“Both it is, then.” Virgil scoots closer, ready if Logan needs to lean against him again. “Despite the fact that your role is Logic, no one expects you to be entirely logical. You are a person, you have feelings and emotions, and they are as much a part of you as Logic is. Trying to deny that isn’t logical, nor productive. The reason you are who you are is equally due to both of those things.”

He softens his voice as Logan leans toward him again, smiling at how shamelessly Logan is asking to be comforted.

“And that’s why we care about you,” he mumbles, ignoring the heat rushing to his own face, “because you’re you. You’re…prissy and stuck-up and a know-it-all and it’s perfect, L. You’re our braincell and you’re fucking ours. You’re—you’re not going anywhere.”

Logan’s arms still grip the pillow tightly even as his head nudges its way under Virgil’s chin. Virgil smiles and lets him, only realizing he’s absentmindedly nuzzling Logan’s hair after a minute.

The others will be fine. Logan just needs a moment to check out.

Roman, on the other hand, fucking sucks at letting himself ask.

And yeah, Virgil’s not too proud to admit he still feels sick at how much he’s fucked that up for him. But he’ll be damned if he doesn’t try and fix that now.

Princey’s gig as Creativity isn’t misplaced; Virgil’s equal parts impressed and dismayed at how well Roman’s managed to get himself what he needs without directly asking for it, be it a favor, a piece of feedback, or a conversation.

The one thing he can’t do that with is touch.

Roman needs physical contact like he needs water. He may run hotter than a goddamn furnace but he somehow manages to look cold. Watching him sit himself apart from everyone else hurts now, especially when Janus comes and confesses that he can hear how much Roman tries to insist that he doesn’t need affection from the others.

So, they built a system. Some with Roman’s knowledge, some without. Roman goes to them for comfort when he needs it, but sometimes, when he really needs it, it’s up to them to figure out just how much.

Remus knows his job when it comes to this. His brother is Roman and you don’t get to be a Dark Side without Janus as a dramatic caveat. He’s well-versed in blackmailing self-sacrificing idiots into taking care of themselves.

Remus finds Roman when Roman’s sitting alone, off to the side, staring out into the expanse of the Imagination. He sits down, brushes their shoulders together, and frowns when Roman apologizes and shifts further away.

That’s the first indication.

He suggests they go bother Patton, or sneak out to the field and practice cliff jumping. If Roman’s alright, he’ll roll his eyes and propose an alternative, or agree and they’ll scamper off. But instead, he smiles softly and says no thank-you, politely inviting Remus to stay if he likes, but he’d rather not move.

That’s the second indication.

The third one comes when Remus carefully—really carefully—prods at Roman to see how obvious Roman’s dazed state is. He’s barely there.

Time for reinforcements.

Who gets called depends on who’s around. Since Remus is usually the first one in the chain—although that responsibility does get bounced around—everyone else’s schedules make absolute consistency difficult.

Today, it’s Janus.

He sits on Roman’s other side, pressing their shoulders together. If he’s alright, he’ll lean into him, or at the very least, tolerate it. His presence is strong, enough to coax down his shields and that’ll be the end of it. But today, he scoots away from him too, another apology on his lips.

They exchange a look over Roman’s head.

No one banters quite like Remus and Janus, and sometimes that’s all it takes to pull him out of his head. Sometimes it’s an offer to go flounce around an abandoned castle, and there’s a small smile on his face as they leave.

Not today.

As a last resort, Janus reaches out and gently calls to him.

“My prince, are you alright?”

Sometimes it’s enough.

Not today.

“Alright,” Remus declares, getting up and clapping his hands, “time to pull out the big guns.”

Sometimes he’ll get up and walk with them, sometimes he won’t. He has carried him through the Mindscape before, but it was only once. And that was when he couldn’t actually move and they’d had a murmured conversation where he gave him permission to.

Today he gets up and follows them, confused as to what’s going on. They march him straight to a door and Remus knocks on it.

“Roman’s upset,” he says as soon as the door opens.

Virgil smiles and steps aside, letting him come in. Sometimes it’s a waiting game, sometimes Remus pushes him inside. But today, Roman bows his head and walks inside, letting Virgil close the door behind him.

Sometimes it’s a protest. Sometimes it’s a: ‘this really isn’t necessary,’ or a ‘do we have to do this?’ When that happens he indulges Roman, meets every quip with one of his own until he can knock Roman off-balance with well-placed sincerity and use his distraction to steer him to the bed.

Sometimes it’s an apology. It’s an: ‘I’m sure you’ve got other things to do, I can just go,’ and he shakes his head, tells Roman he’s more than happy to spend time with him. That no, he’s not being rude, that he all but asked for Roman to come. When that happens, he normally clams up, stays quiet, until he relents and gathers Roman up into a cuddle by the door.

Sometimes it’s silence. It’s a bowed head, curled up like a frightened animal, braced for punishment. It’s the moments where the gap between Light and Dark feels uncrossable. It’s the moments where the anger is disappointment, where the frustration is indifference, until he speaks first and murmurs that no, Roman’s not in trouble, he’s not here to lecture him, he’s hurt and he wants to help, as he takes Roman into his arms.

Every time it’s a fight.

It’s knowing that he can’t win because of course, he can’t win but this isn’t something he’s supposed to win but he can’t show weakness but he won’t have a choice because it’s the slow, patient kill that speaks of nothing but kindness and care but Virgil has enough to worry about and he doesn’t get to dump all of his problems on Virgil but he knows he wouldn’t do this if he didn’t care but he cares about everyone and Roman isn’t special but he knows that doesn’t matter and he needs this but it makes him want to rip all of his skin off and start over but then he’d get blood on his carpet and that wouldn’t be very polite either—

Virgil guides him to the couch with a hand on his back, sitting him down and bringing two cups of tea to the table. He cups Roman’s hand around one to gauge how warm it is and if his fingers grow too red, he sets it aside. He sits next to him and carefully reaches out.

Here she is, sitting right next to him, and yet he’s almost nowhere to be found.

He needs to relearn how to ask for comfort, for reassurance, for what he needs, but the wait hurts them both.

I’m trying, I’m trying, I promise, I’m sorry—

It’s alright, I’m right here, just ask, that’s all.

When he finally reaches out, Virgil snaps and bundles Roman into his arms. He tucks Roman up against his chest, letting him wind his arms as tightly as he needs to, guiding one leg, then the other, over his. Roman lets out a little whine as he tucks his face into the crook of his neck. He cards his fingers through Roman's hair and smiles as the poor prince melts into his arms.

The familiar protective instinct swells up and Virgil finds himself wanting very much to wrap him up in his hoodie and keep him safe from the universe.

He keeps his breathing even, hoping his heart doesn’t begin to race from the need to protect the Roman. This is for Roman, this is what he needs, to chase away the worries of the world and be safe.

Sometimes they fall asleep like that. Sometimes Roman needs to cry and he hushes him tenderly. Sometimes he seems convinced that if either of them lets go they’ll fly apart.

It doesn’t matter.

If he feels the safest with Virgil’s arms around him, his head on his chest, his heartbeat in his ear, the world could be on fire and he would not leave his side.

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[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

Hi again! Honestly, I kind of love your meta about the Cullens with and without Edward as a framing device. They're so delightfully fucked up. What do you think the Cullens like about each other? Like, do Jasper and Rosalie ever just share a commiserating glance when Edward is getting particularly judge-y? Does Carlisle ever tell Rose how proud he is that her self-control is That Good? Do Emmett and Esme hang out, does she appreciate how light-hearted he is? Like - other than their "mates" do you think the Cullens are super close? What do you think it would take to get them there/what's the ideal "family" dynamic?

Thank you, and for reference, Edward's thoughts on the family.

All the Cullens about all the other Cullens? Well, this will certainly be a large post. I guess we'll tackle this one at a time and then get into what an ideal "family" dynamic even is (especially for vampires).

Let's buckle in friends.

Alice

By far, Alice is closest to Edward.

When she first sees him, she runs to him and embraces him as a brother. Throughout the series, Alice and Edward are the ones that share a close bond with each other, rely upon one another, and hold each other in the highest esteem.

Much of this comes from their respective gifts.

Per their gifts, they unwillingly invade the privacy of everyone close in their lives. More, it's something that forces them to see the world differently beyond even Jasper (who is also gifted). They have a strong sense of kinship with one another.

Bella is important to Alice not only because Alice sees her as a friend but because she is the one who will make Edward happiest. And that means quite a bit to Alice.

Otherwise, Alice isn't that close to any of the others.

Bella comes in slot number two in Alice's esteem and that's very telling, because Alice treats Bella like her life-sized Barbie doll and makes it clear on a number of occasions that she's more than willing to risk Bella's life for the sake of Edward's happiness without a hint of remorse.

Then there's the rest of them.

People, to Alice, are a bit like pawns in a chess game. Part of this is because of her gift, she sees so many futures that it's very easy for her to dehumanize those around her. The people she's closest to aren't people, but a collection of possible choices, and Alice helps guide those choices to the ones she finds preferable.

And preferable, here, is preferable to Alice. Oh, it might work out for everyone else, and Alice will tell you she looks out for the future of everyone over all, but ultimately because everyone else is just a collection of choices it's what happens to Alice that matters.

Alice is with Jasper because a vision told her to be, nothing more, nothing less. Every interaction they have just emphasizes that they are nothing together, not even a real emotional bond.

The others don't even seem to share a connection with Alice at all. She's in their lives, is this perky kind of fun girl, but that's it. They barely know her as she seems to barely know them.

Alice is with the Cullens not for the Cullens themselves but because visions have guided her to be there as the best future for her. Oh, she treats them like family, but I imagine she'd be the same with anyone else had visions dictated a different path.

As for why the Cullens, they're large and very talented, and Carlisle is one of the few vampires in such a large coven who would not use Alice's gift as a means of war or expansion. It's really the safest place for Alice to be, and why she'll likely do everything in her power to keep the coven together.

Carlisle

Despite Edward's, Edwardness, Carlisle is incredibly fond of Edward and does see him as something of a son. He's also very devoted to his marriage to Esme, despite its unseen flaws. And he seems to be very close with Rosalie, easily seeing her as a daughter and acting much like a paternal figure to her throughout the series.

He doesn't seem as close with Emmett, Jasper, and Alice. This is in part because Emmett doesn't really reach out to him the way the others do, Jasper keeps very much to himself, and Alice is Alice.

However, he's very fond of the Cullens as a whole and looks on each of them highly, even if they don't really deserve it all the time. He would be devestated were the coven to fall apart.

Emmett

Emmett's closest is with Rosalie, for obvious reasons, but even they have a pretty dysfunctional relationship. What Emmett appreciates most about Rosalie is her beauty, when it comes to her personality, he openly admits he's not the largest fan (but what are you going to do, it's the wife, amirite?)

Otherwise, he's a very amiable guy and gets along well enough with everyone, but doesn't seem particularly close to any of them. He wrestles with Jasper and seems to engage in the most 'fun' activities with him, but Jasper is a very haunted soul with a difficult past that Emmett doesn't touch with a ten foot pole.

Emmett tries to bond with Edward, but they just don't understand one another. Especially as Edward seems to go increasingly mad when he decides he's in love with Bella Swan, Emmett doesn't know what to do with that one at all.

Emmett never embraces the whole Esme and Carlisle as his parents thing, and to him it's likely a hilarious joke, but otherwise he doesn't bond with either of them too much.

So, when you get down to it, it's pretty much just Rose.

Esme

Esme adores the family, and by the family I mean Edward. Edward is far and away Esme's favorite child, really the only Cullen I'd say Esme considers her child, and she makes no pretense otherwise and openly says as much.

That said, if you asked her, it would be about the family unit as a whole. And she would be devastated if the Cullens fell apart on her, though not as much if one of the fringe members left vs. Edward leaving.

Otherwise, there's Carlisle, who she adores as her husband. Though they, too, have significant issues. Specifically, neither of them truly knows who it is they married and one day they will find that out. Personally, I think Carlisle ranks far less in Esme's priorities than Edward, in part because he doesn't need her quite so badly, and also because in a way he just is Husband to her and little else.

I think she has very little connection with Jasper and Alice specifically, as they came in so late and in a way are so self contained. Emmett I think amuses her, but he's not really a "child" per se. Rosalie's closest, but as Rosalie doesn't need her as a mother I think that puts a wedge between them.

I also think that Rosalie and Esme wouldn't really understand each other. Despite having lived through similar experiences as humans, they are very different women from one another. I just don't see the bond there.

Jasper

Jasper seems to be the eternal outsider in the family. Edward despises him, but more, I think he doesn't quite know where to fit in with these people. He came from such a different from world than each of them and lived a very different life.

We see him wrestling with Emmett, so there's a bond of friendship there, but I never saw it as a particularly deep one. They'll wrestle, play games, but they never have the hard and difficult conversations in life.

He and Alice have their relationship, but there doesn't seem to be anything really holding them together. The conversations they need to have don't happen, and Alice manipulates his life like a piece on a chessboard, and he consents because he has no trust left in himself at all.

We see Jasper despair to Carlisle in Breaking Dawn that Bella, a newborn, has better control than him but this seems to be an extreme moment for him. It doesn't seem like he and Carlisle are talking often even if, perhaps, they should if only to gain more perspective from one another.

Jasper didn't come to the coven for Alice, nor is that solely the reason he stays, but he very much is an outsider and the one who doesn't quite fit in with the rest of them.

Rosalie

Rosalie is very invested in the family itself. She loves these people, even the ones that aren't so hot on her.

Yes, she wishes she and Alice had an actual relationship, and is pissed off when Alice blows her off for Edward's human girlfriend of all things. Yes, she wishes that she and Edward could get along, but she sees him as the brother you sometimes have a rocky relationship with.

Point being, to her, they are very much a family and she strives to keep them together.

As for who she's actually close to, I'd say it's Emmett and Carlisle. Her relationship with Edward is tense at best and antagonistic at worst. She and Alice have virtually know relationship at all, Jasper keeps to himself, and we don't see her really connecting with Esme.

On the other hand, in terms of her education (pursuing all she can and especially getting her medical degree), her strict adherence to the diet, she seems to emulate Carlisle in all that she does. He's very much a father figure to her and someone she wishes to be like.

So, I do think Carlisle tells Rosalie he's proud of her and she beams up at him. That one I do very much see happening.

Emmett is her rock, the man who keeps her steady and pulled her out of misery, who loves her near unconditionally. For the wrong reasons, perhaps, but time will tell if that relationship works out for them.

Summing it Up

The Cullens are actually fairly disjointed. They may look like a single cohesive unit, and they are in a sense, but if you look closer they divide down into cliques and subgroups quite easily. Not one of them is equally close to all other Cullens, and most of them are strangers to at least one of them.

This perhaps isn't surprising, given I think the coven is ultimately doomed, but it lays the foundations as for why it's doomed. Edward tells us this himself, what holds them together (vs. other smaller covens) is the diet. Edward, of course, didn't mean it like this, but to me that spells a very tenuous bond. One that, with not much of a catalyst, will break.

And I don't think they're going to get to the point where they reach that family ideal.

First, they'd have to truly understand each other, and understanding Edward would break the coven. So that's not going good places.

More though, they're such different people who ultimately do not share common ideals. They don't want the same things in life and certainly not for the same reasons, and because of that they're not going to be incredibly close to every other person in the coven. And that's fine, they don't have to be.

To be honest, I'm not sure the family dynamic is something they should strive for. They already, mostly, care about one another deeply and do live together. Why should they emulate human families?

The place where it falls apart on them is that half of them don't know who the other is, they all think they have different values than they actually do, and Edward is Edward.

And there's no getting around Edward being Edward.