#no fluff

[al4thea]

Someone is asking me to draw in my squiggly chibi style. I said no but I still made it, here you go ﾍ(￣ー￣)ﾉ

[mm-lurking]

It's too late - Blade

Angst, angst and angst. Because I wanted to write pain. I tried a new perspective so apologies if it's confusing!

Warning: Blade x fem! reader, there is literally not a single drop of comfort in here, it's pure angst. I am not sorry

WC: 2238 – The tension is suffocating at the Exalting Sanctum in the Xianzhou Luofu. It is so thick you could cut it with a knife. The sun is hanging low in the sky as Blade stands on the other side from the Astral Express members and the general of the Luofu, Jing Yuan. No words are exchanged but enough emotions are conveyed through the glares and stiff body language from everyone in front of him.

Blade calmly observes the people. There is backup from the cloud knights behind the general and the Astral Express. He glances at the battlefield and takes note of the extra backups on the adjacent side of the general. As usual, this fight will be nothing more than child’s play; after all, taking out several enemies in one go was his bread and butter. The cloud knights weren’t even worth his attention, for they were just training dummies in his eyes.

“Member of the Stellaron Hunter, your games have come to an end. Drop your weapon and surrender.”

Jing Yuan steps forward as he speaks with authority. There is a glint in his eyes that only Blade understands, it’s a glint that asks him to quietly comply with whatever the general is planning. Both parties know that he cannot be held hostage, for Kafka would save him one way or the other. Besides, Jing Yuan’s past with the wanted criminal would mean that no matter what, he could never be in serious trouble on the Luofu.

“You impede me.”

Blade scowls. If it was just Jing Yuan and his pathetic guards, he could have handled it alone, but why was the Astral Express here too? This was supposed to be a Xianzhou Alliance situation and it had nothing to do with the outsiders. A soft zap fills the air when he conjures his sword and points it towards the general, ready to fight. He narrows his eyes when he sees how the general nods his head and smiles. Things were going his way indeed.

“It appears that communication will not suffice any longer. My friends from the Astral Express, get ready.”

Jing Yuan sternly commands his companions as he also gets in the position to fight. Yet when he’s about to draw his sword he’s stopped by Dan Heng who extends his arm out.

“General, you haven’t recovered from Phantylia completely. We will take care of this. I’m sure Stelle, March and I can handle him. Besides we have all the backup we need, you needn't get yourself involved.”

“Confident aren’t we today?”

Blade mocks from the distance and Dan Heng snaps his head towards him, frowning. An evil grin slowly appears on Blade’s face as he confidently walks closer with his sword ready.

“Traitor of the Xianzhou,” He says wickedly, “how about a rematch-!”

There is no time for Dan Heng to prepare as Blade rapidly starts to attack him left and right leaving no room for him to think. The swords clash loudly with one another as they go back and forth with each other. Even with March 7th and Stelle aiding, Blade evades one hit after the other, skillfully wielding his sword to deflect their advances. Fury is evident in his eyes and his mania for revenge is crystal clear from the aggression he displays with his weapon.

Everyone moves out of the way as they both battle their way through on the ground, afraid to get involved. Dan Heng manages to warn the others to not interfere as he single-handedly struggles to keep up with Blade. The hostility between the two is too dangerous for anyone to be dragged in. Their exchange is like a dance, a dance of danger and death with the loud noises of their weapons being the melody. It doesn’t take long for the Vidyadhara descendant to get cornered by the Stelleron Hunter as he struggles to push the man off.

“Give up.”

Blade smirks as he watches the man struggle to push his weapon away. Jing Yuan, who had been carefully watching from a distance, chooses to intervene now as he rushes over and aids Dan Heng. The battle continues once again, this time with Jing Yuan being the receiver of Blade’s blows. The general manages to push Blade back to his original spot; the sounds of their swords getting sharper and louder with each strike.

“Blade this is enough.”

“Hmph.”

He sighs knowing he can’t get past Blade’s stubbornness. They both continue to fight endlessly, neither one willing to put down the sword first.

–

The wind whizzes past your face as you sprint as fast as possible to find Blade. At this time of the day, you would usually be heading back home from work. However, a moment ago Stelle messaged you, informing you of the conflict between Blade and Dan Heng, urgently pleading for your assistance. You agreed as there was nothing more important than stopping your man from killing his archnemesis. You rush to the location, panting and wheezing as you go up and down the flight of stairs and the maze-like corridors to finally arrive at the scene.

You are appalled by the sight in front of you. Several cloud knights are lying around on the floor injured while the others have retreated from fear of getting involved. The Astral Express members are in one corner trying to stop their male companion from joining the general to fight Blade. Your eyes finally land on Blade, who is effortlessly battling Jing Yuan with a psychopathic smile on his face. Chills run down your spine as you try to figure out what to do without getting caught in the heat of it. Unfortunately for you, fate has other plans.

Dan Heng refuses to stay put as he pushes Stelle and March 7th out of his way, stumbling to get to Jing Yuan. On the other side, Blade who hasn’t stopped striking even once, sees Dan Heng out of the corner of his eyes and grins. Without a word, he distances himself from the general putting enough space between the two so he can lift his sword and hurl it towards Dan Heng.

You watch in horror as the sword flies through the battlefield, its course set to hurt the Vidyadhara. Instinctively you bolt towards Dan Heng, using your body as a shield to prevent him from getting hurt. Everything happens so fast, yet you feel like your world is in slow-mo. You manage to interfere just in time as the sword flies halfway in its path and pierces you instead. The momentum makes the sword push through your skin and organs and comes out from your back causing you to stagger. You want to yell and scream but the agony and pain make your throat locked, unable to breathe or say anything. You hear Dan Heng shout your name but his voice feels so far away as your mind goes blank and eyes widen. The yelling makes Jing Yuan turn around and Blade freeze up when his eyes land on you. All three men are stunned as they look at what has occurred.

–

“..!!”

His world is spinning. Everything around him is a blur in his eyes as he dashes forward, past Jing Yuan, to catch you in his arms right as you hit the ground. His mind is racing full of thoughts, confused and shocked as to where you came from and how he didn’t see you. The look of horror doesn’t leave his face as he stares at what he has done; his sword has impaled through your body completely like a fishball on a skewer. Blood leaks out of you like a waterfall, spreading through your clothes, his hands and the floor. You cough out blood and it trickles down your chin, falling on his fingers. The sight is too gruesome to see even for him, yet he cannot look away.

“B-blade…”

You say very weakly as you look at his face. Your voice is so soft that even the subtle breeze threatens to carry it away.

“You…!”

He manages to choke out, holding you tightly in his arms. His gaze flickers all over your body trying to make sense of your situation. Your fingers loosely cling onto his coat in an attempt to consolidate him.

“It’s ok…love…”

His heartbeat is through the roof as he watches you struggling to speak. You slowly lift your bloody left hand and he latches on to it immediately, tightening his fingers around your shaky palm. There is a small smile on your face as you gently brush his cheek with all your strength.

“Don’t-”

He’s struggling to find the right words. What can he say? What is there left to say?

“I love you…”

His eyes widen when you say so and he shakes his head.

“No, don’t- don’t-” You both know you don’t have time left. You cannot be saved but he refuses to believe it. “Please don’t-”, he continues, “you can’t-”

Tears spill from your eyes as you stare into his crimson eyes for one last time, admiring the mysteries of his depths that you never got to fully explore in this lifetime. You muster your final breath and slowly speak.

“I love you very much…”

The hand on his cheek drops on the floor with a loud thud and his breath hitches. The tiny smile on your face recedes and your eyes close as your body goes limp. He shakes you gently trying to wake you up.

“?!?!”

He yells out your name in distress. Despite his attempts, you don’t wake up. He desperately shakes you over and over, pleading for you to open your eyes one last time, for you to speak to him once more, for you to just smile at him once again, to wake up and tell him it’s a joke or that it’s just a bad dream he’s having but alas, you have departed to a place he has spent his cursed life seeking and hopelessly wishing for. Death had come for you before him and once again he had to watch another loved one leave him alone in this empty world full of lies and deceptions. You, the one thing he considered to be the light in his darkness, the star in his empty sky, had also dimmed.

Jing Yuan and Dan Heng come over quickly, still too staggered to process everything. They look back and forth between Blade and you with no words good enough to speak. He continues to hold you tightly, unwilling to let go of you even if seeing his sword in your body breaks him in ways he cannot comprehend.

“Bla-”

“Leave us alone.”

He says weakly as he stares at your now peaceful face. Your eyes are closed and you look so calm as if a giant sword wasn’t anchored into your body. His bloody hand finds its way to your cheek and he softly strokes it, cherishing every touch he has remaining.

“Blade you have to-”

“I said leave us alone!”

Blade yells out at the two men, his voice hoarse from the events that have unfolded. Anger and pain swirl in his bloodshot eyes as he tries to keep himself under control. He turns back to look at you, his eyes softening once again.

“She’s gone….”

He mutters to himself, still holding you tightly. Jing Yuan stays rooted in his spot for a while before gesturing for his knights to leave to give some privacy to you both.

“She wasn’t supposed to be here…where did she come from..?”

Jing Yuan watches his long-time friend mumbling quietly, unsure if he should say anything.

“I killed her…I did this.”

“It was not on purpose. We didn’t know she would get caught in the middle of this.”

The general finally says something, carefully picking his words to not aggravate the swordsman. Silence falls once again and Dan Heng gestures at Jing Yuan to leave with him.

“She needs to be buried soon, Blade. Call for us when you’re ready.”

They give you both one last glance before walking away with the other two Astral Express members. There is an unsettling calmness in the air as everyone leaves the two of you alone. It wasn’t supposed to end like this. It was just supposed to be the usual antics between him and the general. He only had to spar with Dan Heng, have the general interfere and then make his escape. It was supposed to be as simple as that without you involved. He was supposed to meet you at Aurum Alley at sunset yet here he was, holding your dead body during sundown.

Blade is not a man of emotions yet he finds his eyes becoming misty as he continues staring at you, unable to move or speak. He struggles to breathe, heaving while trying to process your death, replaying your fall over and over like a broken radio. Fate truly enjoyed playing its cruel tricks on him, making him dance around like a puppet on strings. He was imprisoned in a glass jail for eternity as he watched everyone live out their dreams while his faded away. No matter how hard he tried to find happiness in his cursed immortal life, it was always snatched away. He looks at you one last time, caressing your cheeks before kissing your cold forehead gently.

In this lifetime, he was never meant to be happy. ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇ ©mm-lurking 2024 do not copy, steal or reuse my work.

[malleusdraconiasbf]

True Love’s Kiss

M!reader x Malleus Draconia, Reader is partially inspired by Stephan from the Maleficant movies.

A small hair ornament was the last he possessed of him; it had a peculiar shape, resembling one of a butterfly‘s, made of the finest of silvers and its rims decorated with the rarest of jewels. He had hidden it out of plain sight, placing it deep inside the drawer by his desk. This way, He had thought, he would never have to set his eyes on the cursed object again— one tainted with the past, because after all, Malleus didn’t like the bittersweet feeling of nostalgia.

His hand rested on the handle of the drawer— feeling the cold and smooth surface on his bare skin. Malleus gave it a final thought before pulling it open, he was greeted with the usual sight; notes and books.

Suddenly a small object fluttered out of the drawer. When the hair ornaments had not just flown, but even landed on the shoulder of the prince, saying that he was surprised was an understatement. As if it had a mind of its own, the silver butterfly landed, flapping its wings twice before flying in the direction where the door stood. When it noticed Malleus hadn’t done what it wanted, it stopped midtrack before flying back — pulling on his sleeve in the direction it was originally heading. Malleus stared perplex, unknowing what to do, while the butterfly mustered up all its strength to pull on his sleeve one last time. As if feeling its desperation, Malleus decides to do as instructed and followed the sentient hair ornament.

It led a path, one he wasn’t sure where it would bring him. He walks carefully, taking in his surroundings. The sun had already set, and darkness had already blanketed all across its lands; the only remaining light source on this path being that of the butterflys, as it shimmered alongside the moon and the stars.

Unexpectedly the journey came to a halt, the hair ornament landed back on Malleus’ shoulder. The building in front of him was one he had never seen before— Its age and history showing within the condition the prince found it in, nature had already attempted to return and break its material back to what it once was. Malleus reaches out, before gently pushing the gate open.

Vines, flowers, and ivy had already decorated the cathedral-like building— it was unmistakably a place that had very few visitors, but he didn't mind, he liked the solace in places such as this. He had thought of this as nothing more than another abandoned building he would explore.

The sound of his footsteps was the only thing to be heard. There was a narrow path that led to the main entrance. Without much force, the door pried open revealing its insides. Just like the exterior, the interior was pleasant to look at. Many intricate frescoes adorned the walls and ceiling, each painted with care and thought by a skilled artisan.

The space within was vast— high-vaulted ceilings held up by towering pillars; a combination of both created a sense of grandeur and awe. Malleus was taken aback, as this place did not look to be abandoned. Fresh flowers decorated the hall, smelling intoxicatingly sweet.

Suddenly the butterfly left his side again— flying toward the heart of the building. It landed on an object of peculiar shape, wrapped in a dark velvet fabric. Without much thought, Malleus approaches the object— each step careful as not to crush the bouquets of fresh orchids and lilies laying on the ground. His pale hand that seemed to illuminate under the moonlight, reaches out for the velvet before removing it in one swift motion.

Malleus’ eyes widen, an unexpected face appeared; one he was familiar with and had grown fond of in the past, one that was especially strange to see under these circumstances. Behind the glass panel was the face of his beloved— no this couldn’t be. It had been nearly five centuries— surely a mere human wouldn’t be intact for that long, not in this condition. It was as if the one within the coffin was in a deep state of slumber; nothing pointed to the cause of death, nothing was decomposing, not a single sign of discomfort that he might’ve had before his death lingered in his face nor in his aura— it was truly as if he was just asleep.

Malleus’ thoughts were interrupted with a loud thud. The sentient hair ornament had flown against the glass, as if not learning a lesson it continued flying against it, only to be rejected again and again. “Do you wish to return to your owner?” he asked even tho he knew the answer; after all this was everything that (M/n) left behind for him, this very piece of jewelry. Magical clouds began circling the coffin, Malleus motioned with his finger before lifting the case with a spell. Immediately, the butterfly rushes to (M/n)’s side— nuzzling against the crook of his neck as if it searched for a warmth the corpse couldn't provide.

Before him stood evidence that the hatred Malleus bore deep within his heart, whom he directed at this individual, had emerged from a false accusation : It wasn't (M/n) who parted with him, it was death himself who had taken him by force.

As he watched the butterfly readjust it's position, Malleus’ heart grew numb, his mind hazy and his body heavy. He now wished (M/n) had lived the life he had imagined for him: One where he got to witness all the wonders of life, achieve all the goals he had told him about on that faithful night under the night sky, and most importantly, one where his body grew and changed alongside him.

But this (M/n) laying so lifelessly before Malleus, looked no older than when he last saw him.

Malleus sits down on the edge of the coffin— his head hung low. He had known for a long time that it was impossible for (M/n) to return, after all it's been centuries, but now he was being forced to face it head on, the tiny amount of hope he had, borne by denial was crushed.

“Child of man, I wasn't able to bid you farewell during our last meeting, so I shall make it up to you this time..” He spoke, his voice echoing throughout the halls in an eerie manner. The prince leans down, gently tucking (M/n)’s hair before placing a soft kiss on his forehead. “Rest well, my dear (M/n)” he whispers, before pulling away.

word count: 1k

[crystaljade22]

Batfamily with a Semi-forgotten sibling user

User is younger than Jason and Dick, but older than Tim and Damian.

Warnings: User death at the end, semi-graphic, not too bad, angst, bby Damian (Platonic). No fluff.

No gendered pronouns, only 'you'.

User is always swooping in to save everyone. Damian and Bruce seem to be the only ones who truly take notice.

Bruce swears he has a mini heart attack every time you crash through a window to save him when he's surrounded and clearly outnumbered. He gives you an angry (concerned) lecture when you get back to the cave about risking yourself. You continue to do so, and yet he still manages to scold you in new ways every time. He just can't bear the thought of losing another child.

Damian at first ignores you every time you come in to help. But slowly over time as you take care of him, and make sure he's taking care of his things, he slowly lets himself get attached to you as a sibling. He doesn't mind your help from time to time and definitely doesn't complain when there's a new reason to just hang out with his older sibling.

When Damian first came to Gotham, during his first winter he got slightly sick, which is really rare, and he was stuck in bed on Alfred's orders. So while Alfred was stuck tending to the others, you came in to make sure that he had eaten and was well-rested enough before you and him had fun playing games.

Now, the other boys however, don't notice you as much.

Tim gets too absorbed in work to notice when you bring him another cup of coffee or organize his files in a way that makes sense. On the field, he doesn't even recognize you as an asset. You often play support, standing on a nearby roof while you wait anxiously to hear if your father and brothers are alright. Most of the time, Tim doesn't even think you could change the outcome in his plan. Even when you come in to help, he blames it all on his "perfect" planning skills, and ignores your presence altogether.

Jason doesn't like you at all. He finds you to be a useless younger sibling. He makes sure that any time you try to interact with him, he shuts you down in the coldest, harshest way he can to make sure you stay away. There have been times when he's gotten aggressive with you on patrols together. Pushing you close to roof edges, threatening you. Of course, Bruce never lets this happen.

Dick, however, just ignores you or finds excuses to get away from you. He doesn't even really think of you as a sibling, more like an annoying stray that was brought in. He constantly uses his acrobatic skills to avoid you. If you're ever on patrols together, he finds ways to leave you alone, often going off on his own. Bruce constantly gets mad at Dick for this, trying to explain to him that you are his younger sibling, and you should not be left alone in Gotham, especially when the Joker is at large.

Now, onto the scenario.

You've been looking for Jason. All the civilians are out of the building, and so is your family, but Jason is missing.

Where is he?

You look back at the building, plumes of smoke still billowing up toward the sky. He's still in there. Your legs are moving before anyone can stop you. You hear Bruce call your hero name, but you're already rushing into the building.

"Red Hood!" You shout, scanning the building with your eyes as you run through the empty factory. You stop in front of a fallen beam, blackened from the flames that were now doused. You look over it, seeing Jason with a small child in his arms. In a rush of adrenaline, you crouch under the beam, lifting the probably 250 pound wooden beam above your head.

"Come on!" You shout to Jason, urging him to run. As he passes you, his shoulder bumps your arm. You lose your grip on the beam, falling backward. Time seemed to slow down as you landed on the ground, watching the beam succumb to gravity. As the beam crushed your legs, other parts of the building collapsed, covering up your blood-curdling scream. Fire licked at the roof of the warehouse, covering multiple other surfaces. Your eyes burned with tears, your lungs filling with smoke. As you stared up at the roof, you realized that Bruce was right. You weren't going to get out of this alive. As you saw the night sky, you saw some stars twinkling between the flames. A smile graced your face as you realized that you too, would soon join the stars, and you would always watch over your family.

Outside

Jason came barreling out of the building, the child clutched to his chest. The girl's parents came rushing over to take her from his arms. As Jason approached the others, Damian seemed to keep looking behind Jason, waiting for something to happen, or for someone to return.

"Jason, are you alright?" Bruce asks frantically, quickly approaching and scanning him over. Jason waves him off scoffing in an annoyed manner. But truly, he was a little happy that he was still cared for. Damian stood by Jason, looking out onto the burning building. His expression is serious, but his eyes hold a hidden worry. He shakes his head, turning to Jason.

"Where is Y/N?" Jason's eyes widen as he looks back at the building, his mind replaying his last moments with them. He bumped into them as they were holding up a huge beam. As he realizes his mistake, the building crumbles, ash and sparks flying into the night sky. Damian's face goes white, fear and panic coating his face as he stares at the flaming building. Tears streak down his face silently, as his body realizes, you're gone. Bruce's face darkens, his eyes going dark as he realizes he's failed to protect another child. He rests his hand on Damian's shoulder, silently telling him he can't go in to save them. Dick and Tim stared at the building, their faces numb. Dick turned out of guilt, his whole body sinking in defeat as he realizes what he's done to you. Tim can't seem to comprehend your gone.

"They'll come back later. They always do." Tim says, his voice unknowingly shaky as he watches the flames consume the building. Damian sinks to his knees, his shoulders shaking as he silently sobs. Bruce helps him stand back up, and orders everyone to return to the cave.

"No, we can bring them back. We can use a Lazarus pit and bring them back!" Damian tries to reason, trying to look back at the building.

"No Damian. They're gone. Their body is too damaged to bring back, and I'll be damned if I have to force another child back here."

Jason can only stare at the building as he realizes.

"If I hadn't bumped into them, they would be standing right beside me, like they usually do." Guilt fills his body as he realizes, he's the reason they're now gone.

[unknown-lab]

What is Love?

Pairing: Dazai Osamu x reader

Genre: Angst

Warnings: Cheating

Have you ever once in your life, regardless if you're single or in a relationship, wondered... What love is? How do you get it? What should you do to maintain the love you're having for another person? Throughout my experience, there's one thing for sure.

Love is something that fades easily, only when you're with the wrong person.

The night of our 5th Anniversary.

Food? Done. Table? Well-prepared. Candles? All up. Dress? Gorgeous. Lights? Perfect. Everything, every single detail was not left out. Time was tick-tocking as I was admiring what I had done for the past 5 hours. For him, for us. The only flaw I'm having right now is the empty spot in front of me. It should be occupied 1 hour ago.

I waited

And waited

And waited...

Ah... It's 10 pm now. The candles are all out. The room darkened, and there were only 2 dim lights on top of me. He's a busy man, I guess he'd forgotten about this already. Alright then, there's no sign of his return, I might as well start cleaning up. Although I haven't touched anything on the table, I don't feel hungry. Maybe because I don't have the every to be hungry now.

Front door opens

I was already done with the cleaning. I turned to him, and our eyes met. He looks tired too. I don't want to stress him out further, so I just gave him a smile and turned away, walking toward our bed. It's like he could read my mind, he didn't say anything, he just went into the bathroom and took a shower.

He lies down next to me, both of us turning to the opposite side. He's still next to me, and he smells nice. The scent is different from the shampoo we have in our bathroom. I wonder where did he get it from. I was deep in thought until he broke the silence.

"Sign the papers tomorrow."

Hmm? What papers? Never mind, I'll just ask him tomorrow. I don't know why, I feel more tired than usual tonight.

Oh.

Wow.

This escalated... rather quickly... Dazai. Well, I did expect this to happen sooner or later. I was reading through the divorce papers, making nothing is missed out. Everything right now was peaceful. No quarrels, no fights, just two grown adults doing what adults should be doing.

"I was with her last night. I had been by her side for about half a year, and we're planning to make that official. Hopefully, you would understand." He broke the silence, once again. There weren't any expectations heard from his monotone voice. It's like this is just a procedure to him.

Obviously, I kept quiet. I didn't raise my head to look at him, just the files. They are the only thing I have now. I signed the papers and passed them to him. I went to pack my belongings, making sure to bring everything I had with me. While he's just there, sitting on the couch texting her.

Everything is now at the doorstep, ready to go. For the first time in so long, he showed kindness. He put my luggage into the boot. For a split second, seeing him in his suit made my heart skip a beat. How long has he not worn that? It was the one I bought for him on our 1st anniversary. And I know for sure, it's his favourite.

"You can go now, I'll deal with the papers myself. Nothing will go wrong." This is more of an assurance to himself than to me.

"Did you know what day was yesterday?" I looked at him, unfiltered words just came out of my mouth.

"Yeah. It was our 5th Anniversary." He said nonchalantly.

Out of all the things I've thought of, this was the last of all that I could possibly expect. I was expecting a no, regardless he was lying or not. The fact that he knew everything, he knew I was waiting for him, he knew he had to come back, he knew it was our anniversary. This is the trigger that is preparing to fire.

"Then why were you absent?"

"She said wanted me to stay with her."

I could imagine the girl in her sweet voice, holding his hand or hugging him tightly. Begging him to stay with her, just to ruin our moment.

Bravo. Tears formed at the corner of my eyes, slowly rolling down my cheek. Through the blurry vision, I saw a young man in his favourite suit, running towards me. He hugged me and said:

"It's alright, I'd do anything if it's for you."

[tartagilasgf]

will you forever protect me? even from the darkest entities?

xiao x female reader (she/her pronouns).

warnings: degradation and praise, vaginal fingering, intercourse, dominant xiao, fem reader, foul language, use of cunt and tits, orgasm denial, edging.

‼️FANART isn’t mine, full art credits to the @ in the beautiful artwork‼️

-also can you pretty please like and follow me, and give suggestions in the comments, please! I’ll do anything you suggest fluff, smut, angst is allowed (preferably fluff or smut however!)

-may be a few typos and grammar errors.

-background: xiao is your new bodyguard after you discovered your (now ex) boyfriend had been stalking you and selling pictures of you online. xiao stays at your house, helping to pay rent as he is overpaid by your parents and he’s kinda mean but he wants to protect you and keep you from harm :(

being the oblivious, rebellious girl you are, you’ve been attempting to sneak out, wanting to have a little bit of fun without your strong, looming (and kinda scary) bodyguard, xiao. you had looked towards the shut door before returning your gaze to the large window infront of you, trying to quietly open it, once open you hear familiar footsteps. you quickly turn around and see xiao leaning against the wall behind you, crossed arms and obviously annoyed. he opens his eyes, his cold, amber eyes piercing yours. shit, you’ve been caught.

“xiao, it’s not what it looks like! i.. i was just getting hot in here! i swear!” you defend yourself, wavering your hands infront of you.

he steps closer to you, “someone got a little to adventurous tonight, don’t you agree?” he interrogates you, not believing your obvious lie, before continuing. “It’s winter, it’s cold in here. Besides, i can clearly see your goosebumps. you’re not very discreet, y/n.” he beckons, grabbing your arm and sliding his gloved hand over your goosebumps.

i exhale, looking up at you. “..maybe im not discreet but can you blame me? you’re constantly with me everywhere i go. i don’t need a watchdog looking over my shoulder.” I argue. he steps closer, now directly infront of me.

“don’t you know the dangers of going outside alone, huh? you know damn well your shitty ex is still obsessed with you, don’t think i didn’t see the messages you so desperately tried to hide from me.” xiao waits for your response, knowing you can’t say anything back because he’s right, as always.

i roll my eyes, letting out a frustrated huff, “yeah, whatever. i don’t care.” i wave my hand back and forth, dismissing the topic and walking into the kitchen, clearly showing my exasperation due to your harsh questioning. he follows me into the kitchen, watching my every move. observing me. i pour myself a mug of hot chocolate, feeling your presence behind me, daggers stabbing into my back.

“do you enjoy making me disgruntled?” xiao asks in a cold tone. he steps closer to you from behind, putting his arms onto the counter behind you, which just so happens to be beside your sides, trapping you. *he whispers into my ear, “are you satisfied with exploiting me, because i have quite a strong feeling you secretly like making me frustrated. your perseverance comes through once again, huh?” he wants a answer. no — he demands an answer, yet he doesn’t have to say it because his cold, dominant tone does.

i quietly gasp from the warmth of his voice traveling onto my neck, knowing he’d find out my little secret eventually.. yet i still deny, knowing he currently has me right where he wants me. i stay silent, unsure whether to voice my defensive statements or if i should be truthful with him.

xiao’s brows continue to furrow when you refuse to answer him, one of his arms move to your waist, squeezing it. silently demanding for your answer. the pressure of his gloved hand on your waist makes you bend forward and let out a quiet however noticeable “..fuck.”

after regaining your composure back, you finally speak, giving him an unpleasant answer. “w-what makes you think that?” he chuckles softly, his aura becoming more felt.

“maybe it’s the fact you constantly blush and avoid me when I get ‘too close’ or the fact im occurring frequently in your dreams. i know you want me, ive known it since day 1. you think you’re so complex but you really aren’t that difficult to figure out, agreed?” xiao responds, his amber eyes darkening. his hand grips your waist tighter. “are you done playing games y/n?” he turns you around without warning and makes you face him, pressing his muscular body into yours. he notices your face getting redder each second that passes.

i begin to get flustered, my back hoisting in on itself, legs becoming relatively weak. “what do you want me to say xiao? you want me to tell you i think you’re hot because if you do then I’ll tell you right here and now. i think you’re attractive. are you satisfied or are you gonna keep running that bitch mouth of yours?” my eyes suddenly broaden, realizing what i just said to you. panic displays in my eyes “s-shit! sorry! i swear to god, i didn’t mean it xiao! I’m so—sorry!” but before you can react he lays you down on the counter, pinning your arms above you. he bites his lip, drawing blood.

“hm.. don’t you think it’s rather shameful to talk to an adeptus like that, not only am i your bodyguard but aren’t you forgetting the power i have over weak humans like you?” he says, resentment laced in his voice. your eyes widen more, not knowing xiao was an adeptus you suddenly freeze, connecting the dots. god, you knew he was strong but him being an adeptus never crossed a thought in your mind. you begin apologising profusely before he picks you up and bringing you to your bedroom, sitting you down on the bed infront of him.

“s-seriously xiao! ..i had no idea you were an adeptus, i p-promise!” you whine, dishing out as many apologies as you can possibly think of and babble out. he leans down and pins your wrists to either side of your head, dipping his head and kissing you harshly, making you squirm under him. you whimper into the kiss, feeling your face get hotter when he slips his tongue into your mouth. he puts his knees on both sides of you, deepening the kiss and pulling back when he senses you’re nearly out of breath. “..do you want this?” he asks in a serious tone. you breathe deeply, nodding your head repeatedly, at a loss for words as you overcome with several different emotions.

he nods, and gets off the bed, instead standing infront of it. he squints his eyes for a moment, examining your hot, flustered body. “strip, now.” he demands, his gaze never leaving you.

“o-okay..” you reply nervously, biting your lip in pure anticipation and you begin to take off your shirt, revealing your dark green and teal lingerie set, confirming his thoughts of how you’ve been planning this, waiting for it to finally happen. you slip your cheeky shorts off, waiting for him to say something.

he instead laughs darkly. “it’s such a cute set, i appreciate how you bought my favorite colors. however, would it still look cute shredded on the floor? what do you think y/n, hm?” he questions, a small smirk playing on his wet lips. you blush and nod hesitantly, unsure of which answer is wrong and which one is right. he unbuckles his pants and takes off his shirt, revealing his tattoos, on display for you and you only. leaving his black boxers on, he gets on the bed hovering above you.

he kisses your lips with haste before moving down to your jawline, taking his sweet time. “p-please stop teasing me, xiao.” he smiles, completely ignoring your desperate pleas and continues to mark you, creating reddish-purple marks along your pretty jawline and neck, making you whimper and pout. he moves to your collar bone, one hand holding your arms above you while the other one slips under your pretty bra, playing with your sensitive tit. he smirks, feeling you try to grind your hips in desperation. “such a desperate slut, is that really all you are?” not giving you the courtesy of calling you your name, he degrades you. making your panties pool with arousal. you nod, squeezing your legs together and moan as he plays with your tit, teasing you.

his hand moves to the clasp of the bra, tearing it apart with no difficulty and carelessly throwing it on the floor. you whine as that was an expensive set but hey, there will be others. “it’s okay, pretty. i can always buy you another one.” his mouth lowers onto your tit, alternating between sucking and biting it.

“..a-ah! xiao, fuck me already! ah.. i-im begging you.. please! p-..pretty please!!” you beg miserably, in hopes he’d grant you your greatest wish. he continues to suck until he had enough with teasing you and he gently rubs his fingers over your thinly clothed pussy. you buck your hips furiously, trying to obtain more friction. he scoffs, “stop fuckin’ moving whore. ill touch you when i feel like it, you understand?” he pushes your hips down with his own, slightly rubbing his erect dick against your aching, covered pussy.

you nod, despite your obvious objection to how he’s teasing you. after he had enough of teasing you, he pulls your panties to the side, running his finger from your sensitive bud down to your hymen, making you uncontrollably moan once.

he smirks, “does a little touch really make you jolt that much?” he laughs at you, humiliating you slightly. ”oh god.. you’re soaked. I’ve barely even touched you yet.” he snorts in pure disbelief, his thumb rubbing your sensitive bud in circles. your hips pulsate up repeatedly, begging for more. “aah… p-please xiao, i..want y-you.. a-ah..” you beg in desperation once again. The corners of his lips curl up, forming a sinister smile. he takes off his black gloves and then quickly inserts a finger into your dripping pussy, slowly thrusting it in and out. you constantly moan and whine, arching your back for more. he starts going faster adding a third finger. “you’re enjoying this, aren’t you bitch?” a smile plays on his lips, his bright, white fangs showing when he degrades you. you nod your head repeatedly, feeling him curl his fingers, directly hitting your g-spot. “f-fuck! xiao, s-sir! i-im so.. ah.. close! ..shitshitshit!” you babble out, not caring about the embarrassment from your incoherent language. he, with haste pulls his fingers out as soon as you start clenching tightly around his digits, signaling you’re about to orgasm.

you whine, tears forming in your exhausted eyes. eager to cum you beg more, questioning him why he’s edging you and denying you of your wanted orgasm. “x-xiao, please! why won’t you l-let me cum! i-I’ve been good, right? right??” you chant repeatedly, hoping he’ll have a sliver of mercy. your puffy pussy unfortunately clenching around nothing. he laughs before flicking your clitoris twice. “do you remember when you asked me if I’m gonna keep running ‘that bitch mouth of mine’? I wouldn’t be surprised if you didn’t however, considering the fact i already fucked you partially senseless with some foreplay and finger-fucking.” he replies, a cold yet somewhat pitiful tone in his voice.

you frown, “i said i was sorry xiao, i was just.. upset and frustrated and i didn’t like being—cornered, by you may i add..” you admit, honestly. A tinge of sadness in your voice makes xiao become more.. sympathetic and he takes his boxers off, showcasing his painfully erect dick. for a second you seriously wonder if it’s gonna hurt trying to get it into you. he strokes his dick a few times before smearing your precum and arousal onto his tip. “are you.. absolutely sure y/n?” he asks, genuinely wanting your truthful answer. you nod without question, without hesitation.

“ah..this might hurt a bit pretty, okay? but.. i know you can take it, correct?” he aligns his dick with your puffy, needy cunt, and slowly pushes his tip in, giving you some time to adjust to the inhumanely girth. you, cry in pain before your pussy is stretched open from his length.

“y-you can start moving, xiao..” you confirm, holding his hand and kissing him on the cheek. he nods and slowly pushes most of his length into you, his tip curving into your g-spot slightly, grazing it. you grind your hips up, asking for more. he sees what you’re telling him and he pushes himself in all the way, waiting a moment before thrusting, each thrust picking up his pace, eventually abusing your g-spot mercifully, without stopping.

“f-fuck xiao! s-shitshitshitshit! oh my g—oh my god! im— im c-cumming! ah!” you babble incoherently, mind going blank from your long-needed orgasm. xiao kisses you, effectively shutting you up, silencing you. he reached his own orgasm, pulling out and cumming on your pretty, sore, mark covered abdomen. he pants, taking a moment to come down from his high. he gently kisses your cheek and wiping you with a clean, grey cloth and rubbing the tears from pleasure off of your face.

“you did good, i didn’t know a mere mortal like you could last that long, huh.” he somehow compliments and degrades you in a single sentence, but who are you to complain…

After all, as your bodyguard he had sworn to always protect you, even from the darkest entities.

[rin-fukuroi]

𝐎𝐰𝐧 𝐦𝐞 [𝐏𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐞]

Please do not translate or publish my works without my permission.

The originals of my works can be read here

Fandom: Genshin Impact

Pairings: dom!Pantalone x sub!fem!reader

Warnings: no fluff, unhealthy relationships, sexual tension.

▶• ılıılıılıılıılıılı. bülow - Own Me

Note: English is not my native language, so I apologize if there are errors in the text qq

What about unconditional submission without sexual overtones? Although it's still present here, because i'm only trying to understand these boundaries, where the simple relationship of the dom and sub ends and something obscene begins. Perhaps i'll return to sketches of this genre more than once, since dom men are the best men in the world (ง ื▿ ื)ว

art: @jianrou

Have you ever heard of a wolf that decided to tame a hare? The poor fluffy little animal shivers day by day, not knowing at what second the thread of life can be irreversibly cut off, but the wolf takes care of tamed food, not allowing the hare to breathe its last breath before the whim of its owner. The little animal sees its defender in the wolf, leaving its own fate in its paws, and the hare's gaze is always permeated with devotion when its owner comes into view.

It's so wrong. Unnatural.

But what if the wolf became infatuated with the one he tamed?

You think about it every time your gaze meets blue eyes hidden under the glass of exquisite and fabulously expensive glasses. Your whole being screams that a wolf cannot love its prey, but your heart continues to beat faster every time you hear your own name spoken by your master.

— Y/N, — Pantalone smiles softly, pointing with his palm to his own knees, and you shyly put your hands behind your back, feeling the weight of the gazes of the other Harbingers sitting at a huge luxurious table.

Pantalone never needed a leash for you to blindly follow him. Your body and soul are drawn to this man by themselves, like a moth lost in the darkness, finally meeting a light. Only your fire exudes a chilling cold.

You awkwardly take a step forward, carefully settling into Pantalone's lap, and burrow into his fur coat. It looks soft, but for some reason it tingles so unpleasantly on the skin of your face.

One of the Regrator's palms rests on your hip, as it should. There's not a single place on your body that he can't touch, and you shouldn't care if outsiders are present.

You just have to stay diligent, pure, innocent, devoted. Obedient. You must behave the way he likes. Be humble, silent, and accommodating. Otherwise, how else will you please your master?

You raise your head uncertainly, casting a brief glance at Pantalone, which he ignores, continuing in his stoically calm manner to discuss something with other Harbingers. How stupid of you to think that he would pay attention to you. He's busy right now, and you have to be nothing more than an ornament sitting silently on his lap, otherwise without your presence he will simply die of boredom. The Regrator likes to sometimes just squeeze your hips or stroke your knee while he is busy with exhausting conversations, which he tries to avoid as much as possible.

You may blush, you may feel aroused by his touch, but you must not make a sound until both of you leave the hall or the other Harbingers vacate the room, leaving you alone. Even if his fingers thoughtlessly fiddle with the fabric of your underwear, even if they stroke the inside of your thighs, casually touching your crotch, even if the heat in the bottom of your stomach is so unbearable that you feel suffocating moans getting stuck in your throat, you must be quiet and obedient.

The owner can have fun with his toy as he wishes, and the toy should only remain sitting on his lap until he allows it to become human again.

You'll die for him if he asks you to. You'll let him kill you if he has to. No questions, no objections. Isn't that true love? Doesn't the fact that he allows someone like you to even be around prove his feelings? No, no, you're not even worthy of his feelings.

The blood is pumping so furiously through your burning veins, and your hips involuntarily clench around Pantalone's wrist as he roughly, possessively squeezes the elastic flesh of your thigh, and you almost crumble into pieces on his lap, desperately clutching the prickly fur of his robe. It's so embarrassing. You have to be stronger, you have to overcome with dignity the irresistible desire to just bury yourself in the curve of his neck, inhaling the tart scent of cologne, whispering his name over and over again, because if you can stand it…

— Good girl, — the Regrator's lips press against the top of your head as he whispers softly into your hair, continuing to maintain a strained smile on his face.

It's so warm.

The poor muscle in your chest is ready to burst apart. Just two words, but they always sound just for you.

You smile, barely restraining the urge to burst into tears, tightening your lips and nodding briefly, hiding your flushed face in the spikes of black fur again.

…if you can stand the bone-piercing cold, stand the way your heart bleeds, one day a wolf will be able to love his little animal, right?

[nomoreusername]

Different Sides

Summary:After Thomas comes to the Glade and everyone picks sides you and Minho discover how different you actually are.

Pairing:Minho x female reader

The Glade was split on what to do. Half of us thought we should trust Thomas and try to get out. The other half thought Greenie was insane and didn't know a single thing about being here.

Minho was on the side of trusting Greenie. I was on the side that he was out of his shucking mind.

"Oh come on Newt. One night in the pit, you really think that's going to stop him from going in the maze again?"Gally pointed out.

"No, and we can't just have non-runners go into the Maze whenever they feel like it,"He shrugged.

"Then, punish him harsher. If we let one person slide soon there will be no order here,"I spoke up.

"Exactly. See? She gets it,"Gally said, seeming relieved I agreed and irritated nobody else was on our side.

"Hold on. I was going to say that starting tomorrow Thomas is a Runner,"He finished.

"Excuse me? Is this some kind of joke?"I asked, dumbfounded why anyone thought this was okay.

"No, no, no, no. Let's reward him for breaking our rules. That won't lead to a rebellion at all,"Gally added, throwing his arms in the air out of frustration. I was right there with him. In three seconds I was going to pull my hair out.

"Like it or not Thomas found a clue, and-"

"No. We don't like it. Listen. The Glade isn't perfect, but it gives us everything we need to survive. The walls protect us. We have food and water. We get supplies. We've built a life here. For all we know these walls could be saving our lives. We need to take advantage of that,"I ranted.

"Y/N, we have spent years trying to escape this place. We have the chance, and you want to stay behind because you're scared of what's out there,"Minho asked.

"It's not just that. Something worse could be waiting for us. We know what's going to happen here. We're safe. Why would we want to leave?"I asked.

"Maybe because we're trapped behind these walls all day? I'm not sure if you've noticed, but we've kind of been stuck here our entire lives,"He shot back.

"I've noticed, but I'm fine with it. What I'm not fine with is the way you are all too blind to see that something is up with Greenie. He's out of his shucking mind. He was too fearless when he ran out there. He knows something,"I snapped, turning around and pointing at him. He looked lost as to what was going on. That'll sure be helpful in a maze.

"Yeah. I'm talking about you. You're up to something. You've just come up and screwed everything up. We were all doing fine before you came along,"I scowled.

"Let's take a minute, and calm down,"Newt tried to direct, but by now chaos was innetevable.

"If anybody else would have done that nobody would have hesitated to throw them in the pit. Now we're having and entire debate about it,"Gally pointed out.

"It's different so everyone-"

"No! I will not calm down!"I yelled.

"Screaming isn't going to help us,"He calmly stated.

"Why is nobody listening? We have lived here for years. He hasn't. We know what this place has. Come on guys. The bonfires at Greenie nights, the times it rains, the way we're always adding to it. Does that mean nothing?"I listed. There as still silence.

"Come on. Just think about it. Why would we want to risk our lives because of some stranger. He just showed up, and we're all we know. Doesn't that mean anything?"I pleaded.

"We can have more out there in the world,"Minho tried to convince me.

"But-"

"They're not on our side Y/N. They're never going to be,"Gally interrupted. Deep down I knew he was right. "If you guys want to keep throwing the Greenie a parade that's fine, but we don't want any part of it,"He added before storming out.

"Doesn't the Glade mean anything to you guys? Isn't the fact that this is our home reason enough to stay where we are?"I repeated. The dead silence told me everything I needed to know.

"Fine. If you guys want to take a strangers side over ours then I am done with you. That especially means you,"I scowled, glaring at Minho. His expression was as cold as before.

Leaving them with that final message I left too. It's clear we weren't meant to stick together. There are two options. Stay loyal to the Glade or try and escape. So it wasn't just dramatics in there, and I truly meant my words.

Minho chose his side, and I chose mine. They were just different ones.

[happy74827]

His Ghostly Touch

[Rick Grimes x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: “He was gone, but he was everywhere.”

WC: 988

Category: Angst, Hurt/No Comfort (Takes place during the 6 year time gap // GIF CREDITS: @andy-clutterbuck)

I wrote with a lot of commas this time to represent the emotion involved with this (angsty, I know), but now that I’m re-reading, I actually hate it and I’m too lazy to fix it🧍‍♀️

『••✎••』

You could still hear the way your name fell from his lips as he kissed his way down your neck. His warm hands sliding down over your skin, caressing every part of your body.

You'd always imagined it would be rough. A man like him, in a world like this, would surely be hardened. Yet, the way he made love to you that first time and every night after that was filled with an unbridled passion, a softness and longing that you'd never felt with any other man before.

Rick loved you. Not just with his words but with his body, his touch. It was in the way he smiled at you when you walked into the room. The way his gaze lingered on you when you talked, it was as if the entire world was melting away, and the only thing he could see was you.

He loved you.

And you loved him.

That was the worst part. Loving him was the hardest thing you ever had to do and not a day went by where you didn't think about him, miss him, cry over him. He was gone, and there was nothing you could do about it. He was gone, and yet you could still feel him. Everywhere. All around you. You could still hear his voice. Your name on his lips. That raspy tone that would make your knees go weak, his breath tickling your ear.

He was gone, but he was everywhere.

Rick was a good man. A strong man. But even strong men have their breaking point, and he was no exception. You should have seen it coming. The way he looked at you, his eyes dark and filled with pain. He tried so hard to hide it from you. He tried to be strong for you, for his family, for his people, but the truth was that he was tired. He was tired of fighting, tired of losing people, and tired of being in pain.

He carried so much on his back, so much responsibility. You knew it was weighing him down. You knew he needed someone to lean on, someone to share the burden with, and you wanted to be that person for him. You wanted to be his rock, his anchor, his solace. You wanted to take away his pain, to make him smile, to give him hope.

But you failed. You failed him. You let him down. You watched as the man you loved, the man you would die for, the man who was the center of your world, the man who made your heart sing, slipped away.

He smiled at you as he held the gun up, his finger on the trigger. He smiled at you, and you felt your heart shatter into a million pieces. You tried to reach him, to stop him, to save him, but both Carol and Michonne had held you back, their strong arms wrapped around your waist as you fought against them, tears streaming down your face. And then,

Rick had pulled the trigger.

You cried out, the sound of the bridge collapsing filling the air. You screamed his name, and Carol held on to you tighter, pulling you away from the explosion, away from the sight of your husband, your soulmate, your world, dying with the flames.

And then, he was gone.

You'd never felt pain like that before. It was as if your heart had been ripped out of your chest, as if your soul had been torn in two. You couldn't breathe, couldn't think, couldn't do anything but scream. And then you'd passed out, falling into the blackness of oblivion, your last thoughts of him.

Now, months later, you'd finally started to heal. But the pain was still there, a constant ache in your chest, an emptiness that could never be filled. You missed him. Every day, every minute, every second. But you knew he would want you to keep going, to keep fighting, to keep living.

That's what you did. You lived for him. For his memory, for his sacrifice. You carried on, doing what you could to help the community, to keep his family safe, to make his dream a reality. You were strong for him because that's what he would have wanted.

And now, here you were, lying in the bed that you had shared, the place that once held so many memories and so much love.

You could still feel him, smell his scent, see his smile. And for a moment, just a brief moment, you let yourself pretend that he was there with you. You closed your eyes and imagined his arms around you, his lips on yours, his body pressed against yours.

You let yourself pretend, if only for a moment, that he was still alive. That he was still there with you. And as the tears streamed down your face, as the ache in your chest grew, as the emptiness threatened to consume you, you whispered his name.

"Rick."

The tears flowed freely as you remembered him. The day you met, the way he looked at you, the way his fingers felt against your skin. The first time you kissed, the first time you made love. The way he made you laugh, the way he made you feel, the way he made your heart sing.

"Rick."

His name fell from your lips like a prayer, like a promise, like a plea. You clung to the memories of him, the pain of losing him, the love you had for him. It was too much. Too much to bear.

You let yourself fall apart, the grief overwhelming you, the loss tearing you apart. You sobbed, the tears coming faster and harder, your body shaking with the force of it.

And in the darkness, in the loneliness, in the grief, you whispered his name one last time before closing your eyes to finally rest.

"Rick."

[pleasantlycrazyworld]

White intalized is inner thoughts. Blue intalized is things Steve said in the past. This is all angst, there is no fluff and I don't think I will be writing a fluffy part two this time around.

Steve Harrington...that man will never be the same to you. He was the man you thought was the love of your life, you talked about marriage. about babies. about moving out of this shitty town. And that all got destroyed in one day.

Steve had been stressed out lately, working longer hours -- going in earlier, coming home later, missing dinners and canceling plans. He started to push back, saying he's fine and you don't need to be questioning him so much.

You tried not to jump to conclusions. You tried to stay calm. This was Steve you were talking about! The man you've been with for nearly 3 years! He was the man that was able to convince you that marriage wasn't horrible, that it was written in the stars for you because you deserved a loving, meaningful marriage. You deserved to feel love, feel supported and cared for. That's what he always said. "Baby you deserve everything you want. You want the moon I will go and get that for you my love" He would whisper those loving words in the dark of night -- in the dark of your mind. But now things were different.

Steve was currently at work. As usual. But this time he didn't know he was coming home to an empty house. Earlier that morning you decided to do the laundry. Usually Steve would do that chore but with how stressed out he's been you thought why the hell not try and take some of the load off of him. You gathered his laundry and as you started sorting the whites from the darks you freezed.

That...that's not what I think it is. No it can't be...

You tried to reason with yourself as your fingers graze the bright red lipstick stain on his white button up. Now who the fuck wears that shade of red? It sure as hell isn't you. It was fucking tacky at that.

How long had this been happening? Was there ever long nights at work? Early shifts? Was there ever any emergencies? You started to question his past behavior as you continue to sort through the whites, finding more of the same color stains on more of his shirts. "Sorry babe I can't do dinner tonight...yeah I know we had reservations but we're so backed up tonight I have to stay. At least it's more money. I promise I'll make it up to you." That night should've been your sign. That night was the first time he didn't say the three words that were always said: I love you, those words were said no matter what. You promised each other early on that even if you were mad at each other you would always remind each other of the love you had for one another. When WAS the last time he said those words??? When you thought back to the last few weeks you don't remember hearing those words even being mumbled, let alone declared.

You threw his laundry into the trash and went to pack your stuff up. After you finished gathering your stuff, packing your bags. You were in your car driving off before nightfall. Would you ever find out what Steve reaction was? Would you ever see him again? If you had it your way hell would freeze over before you see that man again.

[starry-snippets]

ash + salt.

um. in a mood for angst. tw breakups <3  based off of autoheart’s “no beat to my heart” 

anyway jotaro x gender neutral reader angst 

“I’m breaking up with you.” 

You’re on the rooftop, enjoying lunch together like you have since high school started. His chopsticks are still in your bento box after you both ate the one his mother prepared. A hand in his lap and his elbow resting on his thigh while he holds the cigarette he was smoking, he stares right into your eyes with an expression you can’t read. Jotaro isn’t scowling; his face is actually free from any emotion. Doesn’t make his gaze any less intense. 

“What?” 

You hate yourself for chuckling in shock, but with the influx of emotions you need some way to get it out before you break down sobbing. Feeling your lip quiver, you realize that weak laugh wouldn’t prevent you from breaking down on the rooftop where you were just laughing — just telling each other how much you loved them. Well, you said it first after he reached to hold your hands, not fighting the way you love to intertwine them. He nodded and clenched your hand which is normally his way of saying “I love you too.” 

“I don’t love you anymore.” 

Before he’s finished his words you’re tearing up. Nothing escapes your waterline, the little water you’ve had today rendering you unable to express how painful his words are. Jotaro stares deep into your eyes with his vibrant blue ones, that look along with his words piercing through your heart. He watches intently as your hands shake as your hold the bento box on your lap, and how his chopsticks have now rolled onto the floor. 

“It’s over.” 

Jotaro concludes before standing up, dropping the butt of his cigarette, and crushing it with the heel of his foot. You watch as the smoke diminishes, how the ashes leave a nasty smudge on the roof. He hasn’t left yet despite destroying his cigarette, so you stare at him with teary eyes and a blank expression. 

“I hate how you smoke. You’ll kill yourself.” 

You say as a, perhaps petty, confession to… maybe retaliate against him breaking up with you. Jotaro mutters his catchline in a tone you’ve never heard him use towards you. The same tone he uses whenever his groupies are trying to cling to his side, trying to convince him to date them. You watch with glossy eyes as Jotaro heads back inside.

Leaving you with the smell of cigarette smoke and an unbearable burn spreading from your chest to your face. 

[ineedtotouchgrassrightnow]

oh my gosh moon sun earth was gut wrenching….im gonna need a part 2 where it’s been years and they’ve become completely strangers and meet again WE NEED A HAPPY ENDING

“You broke me because you were in my life and I will break you because I’m not in your life”

I don’t like being told what to do <3 NO HAPPY ENDINGS HERE

It had been years since Percy had talked to you, and he missed you a lot. He missed everything about you: your hair, your smile, your attitude, your personality, your laughter—everything. He was genuinely getting sick from thinking of you all the time. Nothing else went through his mind other than you, and it was embarrassing. He had pushed you away, rejected your advances to become more than friends. Normally, he could forget about you most of the day... that was until you came back to camp.

You left camp the summer Percy snapped at you, and he lost all contact with you. You blocked him on everything. So when Percy saw you again for the first time in years, it broke him. You had changed so much yet stayed the same. You were taller, more confident, stronger than before, and you looked better. You walked with confidence, knowing your worth, but your hair was the same, your attitude, personality, laughter, sarcasm—the exact same. And yet, Percy stayed the same, and that was putting it nicely. He had changed; yes, he was stronger, but he looked a mess, dark eye bags, eyes filled with regret. He missed you, and he needed you.

He couldn’t help but stare at you when you walked by or played volleyball with the other demigods, or when you shot your bow. His thoughts of you became worse. He had to talk to you, even if that meant sucking up his ego. He walked over to you, blushing at the way you were so focused on the target, nothing but determination behind your eyes. He coughed.

“Y/n…”

Your eyes widened as you quickly put down the bow, refusing to turn your eyes to the speaker.

“…” The silence was loud, too loud. It hurt your ears and his.

“Y-Y/n…” Percy was shocked. Your eyes were filled with hatred; the soft spot behind your eyes for him was gone. Your face showed no signs of entertainment.

“Make it quick, will you?”

“R-Right… sorry. Look, Y/n, I know you’re mad at me, and I think I know why.”

“You think?” You scoffed. “Still can’t take accountability, can you?”

Percy swallowed his spite. “Look, Y/n, I know you’re mad at me. I know I deserved it, but please, I miss you. I miss what we had. I miss being your friend. I’m… nothing without you. I need you!”

“Now you want me?” Your grin got bigger. “You want me! Years after you broke me? You led me on for years and broke me when I was getting too much to handle, and now you want me!?” Your voice was getting louder. “I was someone completely different for you. You’re the reason I don’t know who I am! I don’t know what my favorite drink or my favorite color is. I don’t know my likes or dislikes because I was everything you wanted!”

“I never told you to do that!?”

“You treated me like shit, Percy!” You looked up at him, tears in the corners of your eyes. “I am better without you. I am stronger, and as long as you stay out of my life, I will be bigger than you.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, watch your back, Percy… I will become stronger than you… You broke me because you were in my life, and I will break you because I’m not in your life.”

Percy’s heart broke at your words. “Y-You’re kidding, right? Y-You have to be, right!? Please be!?”

“If you excuse me, I have stuff to do.” You turned around, leaving Percy standing alone. He wanted to run after you, hug you at least one more time, but he couldn’t. His feet wouldn’t move.

“Percy…?” A voice filled with betrayal said behind him. Percy turned quickly.

“Annabeth!?”

“What’s wrong with you?” She looked hurt and pissed. “You really started begging like a dog for a girl who doesn’t want you while having a girlfriend? That's pathetic. I expected better of you.”

“I didn’t mean it, I swear. I was just overwhelmed by emotions.”

“Grow up, Percy. I’m not dumb. I don’t want to be your second choice. It’s over.” The way she spat out "it’s over" sent him over the edge.

“Wait, Annabeth!?” He ran to her side only to be knocked down. “Don’t touch me EVER again!” She snapped at him. “I will break each one of your fingers if you try that again,” she threatened and started walking back to her cabin. “Mom was right… Men suck.” She sighed before tearing up slightly.

[skzhocomments]

The Five Stages of Grief - Bang Chan Oneshot Fanfic

(And a second cover because I couldn't decide)

General Masterlist

Pairing: Bang Chan (Stray Kids) x OC/Reader (Story is written in 2nd person, no name is mentioned)

Genre: angst

Word Count: ~10k

Warnings: death, devastatingly sad, mentions of self-harm, suicidal thoughts. No comfort, although it does end in a positive note. Ending is hopeful if you squint.

This is just a story that doesn’t describe Bang Chan or other mentioned Stray Kids’ members true characters in any way. It’s just a product of my imagination and should be treated as such.

This story is also on Wattpad (click here) and AO3 (click here)

---

A/N: As any other writer out there, I would appreciate reblogs and your comments on this story. Please let me know if you enjoyed it, and most importantly, have fun!

© all rights reserved by skzhocomments (Tumblr), skzho (Tumblr)/ storminsidemycore (Wattpad), storminsidemycore (AO3)

---

The Five Stages of Grief

---

“Hey Channie!” You entered his studio with a smile plastered on your face, that soon enough turned into a frown when you noticed your boyfriend of almost 5 years hasn’t even acknowledged your presence.

He tended to do that a lot, especially when working on new comebacks. His whole focus was on that damn computer which you were sure by now was your life-sworn enemy. It’s hard having to compete with a screen to get your boyfriend’s attention, but such was life sometimes, and there was nothing you could do about it.

You knew the risks that came with dating an idol, you just didn’t know how much worse it could be if you were to date a workaholic, perfectionist idol.

This was Chan.

He spent hours and hours and hours cramped in his small studio, perfecting beats, arranging vocals, switching up different rhythms and trying to figure out what could work out and have the most success between his fans.

“Have you eaten?” You asked, kissing his cheek, and only then did he notice you’re there, and pulled out his headphones.

“Oh, hi. Didn’t see you come in.” Was all he said, his face scrunched in concentration. “Did you say something?”

“Just asked if you’ve had dinner yet.”

He must’ve, right? It was well past 11 pm, but one of his bad habits was working himself to death, and more often than not, he would skip meal times entirely simply because he wasn’t good at keeping track of time.

“I had a protein bar earlier.” He shrugged.

“Want me to order you something? Or even better, why don’t we both head home?” You asked with a smile, trying to be convincing enough for your boyfriend.

It usually worked.

He would normally laugh off your attempts to be nice and realise that you’re just trying to take care of him, and he would comply and go home with you for the night, then resume his work the next day.

Once you’d be home, he would crash immediately, proof of how tired he’d been and how much he’d ignored his body’s needs. His sheer determination was scary.

However, none of this happened tonight. He rolled his eyes and muttered a small “There she goes again.”

You played it off, though, realising he probably didn’t mean for you to hear that. Brave on his part, you thought, in such a small quiet studio.

“What is that supposed to mean?” You asked, your tone still friendly, as if you were joking with him.

What you didn’t expect was for him to turn his whole chair towards you, his expression angrier than you’ve ever seen him.

“You heard me. God, it’s so frustrating having you come here all the time bossing me around. Eat! Sleep! Stop working! Can’t you see I’m busy?!” He ranted, pointing towards his computer screen.

“Wow, sorry, Mr. Busy.” You chuckled, despite being slightly angry with his words.

He doesn’t mean them. You told yourself. This is another one of his bad habits: bursting out and speaking cruel words whenever he’s extremely stressed and has tight deadlines. It hadn’t happened often, only a handful of times in your years long relationship, but it hurt nonetheless whenever it did.

“And there you go mocking me.” He rolled his eyes at you. “It’s like you don’t even care about the work I’m doing.”

“It’s not that, Chan. You know how much I value your work, it’s just-”

“Yeah, bullshit.” He laughs. “If you would, you’d stop barging in here demanding things from me when you know I have stuff to do.”

“Hey, I know you had a tough couple of days with the comeback and all, but there’s no need for you to take it out on my like this.” You crossed your arms in front of your chest, this time feeling genuinely upset. It’s like he’s escalating it on purpose.

“No, it’s not just a tough couple of days. Don’t you get it? You do this shit all the time, and I’m frankly sick and tired of it. Can’t you just leave me be for once and stop being so controlling?”

“Controlling?” You asked, baffled. “How am I controlling, huh? By making sure you eat and sleep when you’re supposed to?”

“How do you even know what I’m supposed to do?! You always think you know best, but you never fucking consider any of my needs and wants.”

“Literally everything I do is fucking consider your needs, Chan.” You answered coldly.

“No. You’re just too deep in your head and can’t fucking figure out when to back down, so I’m telling you. Stop telling me what to do and leave me alone if I’m busy. God, I don’t need this shit.”

He mumbled the last sentence and put his headphones back in, turning his attention back to the screen.

Maybe you shouldn’t have done what you did next, but he hurt you, and you didn’t like the way your conversation apparently ended. You wanted to know what he meant, so you grabbed his headphones’ wire and pulled them out of his ears forcefully.

The way he turned to you and the look he threw you almost made your blood freeze, but you were far too upset to care about upsetting him anymore.

“What exactly don’t you need, huh? What is this shit, exactly?!” You gestured with your hands.

“You can’t fucking let it go, can you?” He laughed in a baffled way.

“No, unless you tell me what this shit is.”

“This. Us. Everything. I’m really fucking done with how overbearing you’re being. I was doing fine before I met you, and I sure as hell do just fine without you over my head every fucking minute of the day.”

“Oh, is that so?” You asked, expressionless.

He hurt you, but by his anger still present on his features, you realised it’s all pointless. You’re not going to see eye to eye tonight.

“Do you want to break up?” You let out, the words burning your tongue, and Chan’s eyes widen.

“What? No! Fuck, you twist my words.” He sighs, exasperated. “Just leave. Let’s talk about it tomorrow.”

When he doesn’t say anything else, you let out a shaky breath and watch him put his headphones back in.

“Oh, and this?” He starts, pointing to one end of the headphones. “Never do this shit again.”

You watch silently how he turns his chair to look back at the damn screen, without caring that you’re still there in the room.

The discussion is over.

“I see. Fine. I’ll go.” You let out, tears beginning to spill down your cheeks. He didn’t see them, and it felt like he didn’t even care that he’s made you cry.

You quietly made your way out of the room, your sight too blurry to see anything, and you headed home.

---

Denial

---

Chan’s eyes are beginning to sting painfully, and after rubbing them and checking the time, he figures out why.

It’s way over 5 AM when he decides to finally leave the studio, and although it’s still dark out, the streets are already starting to get filled with people hurrying to whatever painful morning shift they are scheduled for.

It takes him about 20 minutes to get back to your shared apartment, and when he does, nothing seems unusual at first.

The house is expectedly quiet, it being so early in the morning, and he already imagines how deep in sleep you must be by now.

He feels guilty for how he treated you, that he let the anger consume him once again, and he regrets it. He always regrets it when he lets stress get the better of him.

As he heads towards the bathroom to wash the harsh day off his skin, he starts thinking about how he could make it up to you. Should he buy you flowers and bring you breakfast in bed in 4 hours when you’ll most likely get up?

Although he hasn’t slept at all.

Should he take you out on a date after he’s well rested? There was this restaurant you mentioned a couple of times that you wanted to try, but he didn’t have enough time to take you there to eat yet, not with all the planned comebacks and the work that keeps piling up.

Maybe tomorrow is finally the day.

He finishes his shower and rubs his eyes again, and God, how tired he is, just as usual when he pulls out all-nighters. Everything seems ordinary, but as he opens the bedroom door, however, something is unusual.

You are not there.

Confused, he takes out his phone to check for any messages you might’ve sent him, but upon noticing there’s no new notifications, he throws the phone on the bed, screen down, defeated.

Did you really think he wants to break up? Did you finally have enough and left him?

He knows he treated you badly tonight, but he thought it’s just a small drop in an ocean of happiness. Arguments are unavoidable, unfortunately, and he can’t always be the perfectly composed man he’s striving to become.

Would you really leave after a couple of cruel words he didn’t even mean? He starts asking himself as he gets into bed. Surely you know how much he loves and needs you there for him. It was just a bad night, that’s all.

Maybe you just wanted some space, and decided to head to a friend, or to a hotel or something.

He thinks about calling you, but with how late it is – or rather, how early – he knows he’d just disturb you or any of your friends you would’ve gone to if he were to call.

He decides to go to sleep instead and figure it all out tomorrow morning, when his mind is clearer, and when you’ve both had enough time to cool down.

~

His head is pounding with pain as he opens his eyes and feels multiple pulsations against all sides of his skull.

This is the worst migraine he’s ever had, and he realises how right you were when trying to convince him to go to sleep early. He really needed more sleep.

He grabs his phone to check the time, and when he does, he sees it’s flooding with notifications. His manager called him about a dozen times, starting at 8 AM and continuing up until 15 minutes ago, and he has multiple missed calls and messages from all the members.

Ugh, it’s only 10.

Did I have a schedule I’ve forgotten about? He wonders, rubbing his eyes confused, but checking the date, he knows it’s his day off.

He decides to head to the bathroom and freshen up, while picking up his phone and dialling his manager’s number.

He reaches the bathroom and puts toothpaste on his brush, and by the time the phone rang two times, his manager picks up.

“Chan! Where are you?” He asks, his voice hurried. “Why haven’t you picked up?”

He begins lazily brushing his teeth and checks the date again, and sure enough, it’s his free day. There’s nothing in his schedule.

“Huh? What do you mean?” He asks, his voice still ridden with sleep, still tired from the lack of rest. “It’s my day off.”

“Are you at home?”

“Yes. Where else?”

“Good. That’s… okay. Have you talked to anyone yet?”

“No…? You’re acting weird. What’s going on?”

“Listen, Chan. Something… something bad happened. I need you to sit down for a moment, okay?”

“Okay...?” Chan nods absent-mindedly, continuing to brush his teeth, oblivious about what’s coming.

“Last night… God, I don’t even know how to break this to you, so I’ll just say it. Do note that the company will do its best to assist you and-”

“Cut to the chase. What’s wrong?” Chris asks, starting to get worried. He finishes brushing his teeth, and just as he prepares to put the toothbrush down, his manager’s next words make him drop it to the floor instead.

“Your girlfriend passed away last night. She was hit by a drunk driver on a crosswalk, and although an ambulance got there in less than 2 minutes, she was already… I’m sorry.”

The line falls silent as Chan tries to process what his manager just said. The only sound in the room is made by the toothbrush hitting the bathroom’s white floor tiles.

Chan heard wrong. There’s no other explanation.

“That can’t be.” He dismisses his manager completely. “She was just with me in the studio last night, and then she came-”

Home. But you weren’t home.

“She must’ve gone to a hotel or something.”

“Chan… I’m truly, truly sorry. As I said, we’re going to support you through this tough time with everything we’ve got.”

What tough time? Chan wants to ask but stays silent instead.

He picks the discarded toothbrush from the floor and throws it away. How careless he’s been, dropping it.

He wants to chuckle at his stupidity, and he can’t wait to tell you about it. You’re going to nag him again for being careless and dropping things. This is the 3rd toothbrush he’s changing this month.

“Oh, God! Again?” He can already picture you with an amused expression on your face, your arms crossed. “You’re always dropping stuff on the floor!”

The thought brings the ghost of a smile on his face, and he starts wondering again where you might be. Surely your manager is mistaken.

“Her parents tried getting in touch with you, but they said you didn’t pick up. You should give them a call.” His manager continues to say. “From what they’ve told us, the funeral will be held tomorrow morning. JYPE offered to pay for all expenses. Anyways, this must be too much information to swallow for now, so I’ll come pick you up in 20 minutes and we can go to the company together. The rest of the boys are already here.”

“Okay, see you in 20 minutes.” Chan replies, not really understanding what’s happening.

He ignores the countless missed calls and messages and opens his call history to dial your number instead.

It goes straight to voice mail.

~

“Hello! You’ve called… wait, am I doing this correctly?”You chuckled, asking him with an unsure look on your face.

“Yes. The beep-”

“Oh, right! Thanks for calling, please leave your message after the beep. Okay, bye~!” You cheerfully said, ending the recording with a small laugh.

“Are you going to keep it like that?” He asked amused.

“Why not? It’s straight to the point!”

“You left my voice in it, though.”

“Oh, does it bother you? I can record again if you want me to.”

“No, no need. I just – isn’t it a bit weird?” He chuckled. “You even forgot to say your name.”

“Whatever.” You waved a dismissive hand in the air. “If they called my number, they know who they’re calling.”

“Fair enough.” He laughed.

~

‘Hello! You’ve called… wait, am I doing this correctly?

Yes. The beep-

Oh, right! Thanks for calling, please leave your message after the beep. Okay, bye~!’

He chuckles absent-mindedly at the memory of him teaching you how to record a message redirecting your callers to leave a voice mail. You’ve never been good at technology.

“Hi, babe. Can you please call me? I need to talk to you.” He says, deciding to leave a message, even though he isn’t convinced that you’ll get to hear it. You usually forget to check your voice mail.

He tries calling again, just for good measure.

‘Hello! You’ve called… wait, am I doing this correctly?’

Yes. The beep-

Oh, right! Thanks for-‘

And again.

‘Hello! You’ve called… wait, am I doing this correctly’?

Yes. The beep-‘

And again.

‘Hello! You’ve called… wait, am I doing this correctly?’

Yes.’

‘Hello! You’ve called…’

‘Hello!’

He throws his phone on the bed exasperated. Why aren’t you picking up?

You didn’t even come home last night, why is your phone turned off?

Do you want to somehow punish him for being cruel and make him worry?

He shakes his head confused and begins changing his clothes from the comfortable pyjamas to an appropriate enough outfit to go to the company.

It should be a crime to have to go so early in the morning anywhere on your day off.

When he’s done and he looks somewhat presentable, he picks his phone back up and dials your number again.

‘Hello! You’ve called-’

He cancels the call just when he hears a knock on his door, and opening it, his manager is looking at him sombrely.

“Hi.” Chris speaks first, but his manager doesn’t say anything. He just pulls him into a hug that lasts way too long, Chan thinks.

“I’m so sorry for your loss.” He finally says after pulling away.

Chan doesn’t know what to reply, so he opts to just stay silent. His manager’s words don’t register in his head anyway; maybe he’s still tired.

He did go to sleep way too late.

They head to the car, and although the ride to the company only lasts 20 minutes or so, the 20 minutes feel like an eternity.

It’s just as his manager said, and everyone else is already at the company. When he sees the boys, they come rushing to him, their faces tear-stained and their clothes black.

“Oh, Chris…” Felix hugs him tightly and starts crying, and Chan starts comforting him by patting his back a few times.

A few tears escape past his eyes as well by seeing all the boys so gloomy, but he still doesn’t seem to be able to wrap his hand around it.

“Her parents said the wake is taking place at their house, so that’s where we’re headed now. I thought it’s better for you to not go alone.” His manager blurts out.

Chris looks dejected for a few seconds, before taking out his phone again and dialling the familiar number. This time, he types it himself. He knows it by heart.

With a shaky hand, he puts it against his ear and waits to connect.

‘Hello! You’ve called… wait, am I doing this correctly?

Yes. The beep-

Oh, right! Thanks for calling, please leave your message after the beep. Okay, bye~!’

It makes no sense.

You couldn’t possibly… have died.

You are so young. You have so many plans and so many things you still want to do.

He is supposed to apologize to you and pamper you the whole day just to make up to you for being an asshole last night. He is supposed to take you to that restaurant you’ve been bugging him about for weeks.

You can’t possibly be gone, just like that.

~

Your parents embrace Chris as soon as he steps through the door. They’re sobbing loudly, and there are so many people present – some, he recognises: old friends from middle school you’ve shown him pictures of, some other colleagues from university, some coworkers he had the pleasure of meeting at the last Christmas party held by your company, a few family members…

There are also many people he doesn’t recognise; people your age, and Chan gets reminded once again of how young you are, with your whole life ahead.

He shakes his head once he notices a coffin on the large table in your parents’ living room; the same table you’ve both ate at just two weeks ago when you’ve last visited.

“My baby, Chris is here to see you.” Your mother cries, approaching the coffin and pulling his hand to guide him towards it as well.

It’s closed shut, and on top of it, your picture stares at him with a happy smile. You are so beautiful; he’s always loved this picture of yours. He’s the one who took it, just after you’ve graduated Uni and he handed you a big bouquet of your favourite flowers, rose peonies. You said your eyes wrinkled in a weird way, and never liked it, but he absolutely adored it. It’s been his wall screen ever since.

The coffin is made of dark polished mahogany, and its lid is adorned with golden handles.

You can’t possibly be in there.

Although beautiful, how could such a small coffin hold the large essence of your soul?

It makes no sense whatsoever.

Your parents’ cries seem real enough, though.

He touches the top of the coffin and wonders why it’s closed. Why would it be closed, when you are so gorgeous? People should see you, not a simple picture.

He decides it must be because you’re simply not in it. Or if you are hiding in there, maybe it’s all a joke and you’re going to open it from the inside and yell Surprise!, shocking everyone in the room and making your mother faint. It’s something you’d do.

So, he waits.

He waits, and waits, and waits, and his feet grow tired and his back starts aching after so many hours on his feet. People come and go, paying respects, patting his shoulders and trying to make some small talk, talking about you in past tense.

“She was such a wonderful person.”

“She was so full of life.”

“Her laugh was so intoxicating.”

“Her work ethic was admirable.”

“She was so smart.”

He listens and nods to each of their words. They are right. You are a smart, wonderful person, you are full of life, your laugh is the best thing he’s ever heard. He’s wished more often than not to record it and put it in one of his tracks, but every time he’d mentioned it, you called him silly.

By the time your father brings him a chair and places it next to the coffin so he can sit down instead of standing, it’s already night out.

“You should get some rest, Chris. I’ll stay with her.” He tells him, placing his strong hand on Chan’s shoulder as to attract his attention, but Chan just shakes his head.

How could he go sleep when you might decide any time to wake up?

Would you panic, with the lid closed and all? You’ve always been claustrophobic. Why is it closed, anyway?

~

It’s already morning when one of your relatives approaches Chris and urges him to get out of the living room to change his clothes.

They’ve brought him a white suit at the request of your father; wedding attire, since you didn’t get the chance to get married before you passed.

He is reluctant to put on the white pants and uncomfortable suit jacket, but he does it anyway. Your mother cries when she sees him, and your father pats his shoulder and thanks him for doing this.

The priest comes, and a lot of your friends visit your home again, to lead you on your last journey, apparently.

It takes the priest about half an hour to finish praying for your soul, and then your coffin is loaded in the back of a hearse. The car moves slow enough for everyone to be able to follow, and Chris is walking right behind it, next to your parents. Felix is behind him with Lee Know and Changbin, and the rest of the boys are somewhere far back. He sticks out like a sore thumb, dressed in all white while everyone else is wearing black.

Each time the car passes next to important places in your life, the hearse stops and people throw coins on the ground. They pass by your kindergarten and your old school, and with each step, your mother cries harder. Your father tries his best to stay composed, but even he bursts into tears when your mother starts talking about your life and what a happy kid you were.

Chris doesn’t shed a tear. He follows the hearse blindly, and when it reaches the cemetery, he watches as his members take out the coffin and place it on the ground next to a large, freshly dug hole.

The priest begins a final prayer, and soon enough, he watches how the coffin disappears inside the hole. People start throwing soil and flowers. He doesn’t know how a couple of roses get in his hands, but he begins throwing them one by one on top of the coffin that keeps getting lowered down.

You’ve never liked roses that much. You like peonies. Why did someone hand him roses?

There is also some music – hymns, or the sorts. Something you wouldn’t like. He doesn’t like it either.

A few moments later, some people begin covering the coffin in dirt, and he watches the scene expressionless. It gets covered fairly quickly. People start crying even harder, and his ears start ringing.

He feels sick to his stomach, so he decides to take a few steps back as soon as the whole gets filled to the brim with the freshly dug soil.

“I can’t believe she’s truly gone. She was so young!” He hears a woman say from somewhere behind him. He doesn’t bother turning his head to check if he knows her or not.

“Right? We were talking just yesterday morning at work about going shopping this weekend.” Another woman replies in a quiet tone.

“They didn’t even open the casket.”

“How could they? Didn’t you hear how she passed?”

“No! What even happened?”

“She was apparently crossing the road and a car came out of nowhere, hitting her with more than 200 km/h. It threw her like 30 metres in the air.”

“Oh my God! I heard it was a car accident, but this…”

“Yeah! It’s insane. There was barely anything left of her… only shattered bones and flesh, nothing resembling a human.”

“Shh, what if someone hears you say that?!” The other woman tried to silence the first one.

After hearing these details, Chris feels even sicker.

He wants to throw up.

“Son, we are going to the reception now. Do you want to come with us in our car?” Your father approaches him, and Chris simply nods.

He hugs him for a few seconds, and then they wait for your mother to come, and the ride to the restaurant is filled with her sobs while your father and Chan remain expressionless.

~

He sits at a table next to your parents. Felix is on his left, and the rest of the boys and other members of JYPE are sitting nearby.

There is an empty space to his right, and in front of it, the table is full of your favourite foods, snacks and drinks.

His eyes are stuck on that empty seat.

“Wow, they really brought me a lot.” You chuckle, looking at Chris with your head supported by your right hand, your elbow against the table. “How am I supposed to eat all of this?”

He watches the scene stunned.

“What’s wrong, baby? Why the long face?” You ask, the smile on your face wider, raising a hand to caress his cheek.

The next time Chris blinks, you’re gone.

The seat is empty.

~

The boys insist that Chan comes with them to the dorms, or that at least some of them come home with him.

“It’s not good to be alone.” Hyunjin says sympathetically, and Chris simply shakes his head.

What if you come back home tired and want to rest, but the boys are there visiting? He asks himself. It wouldn’t be fair to you.

So, he goes home alone, after much bargaining with them that he needs some time on his own.

The silence that greets him once he opens the door to your shared apartment is deafening.

He first goes to the bedroom to check if you’re back yet, but the sheets stay as empty as when he woke up two days ago, so he pulls out his phone to dial your number again.

‘Hello! You’ve called… wait, am I doing this correctly?

Yes. The beep-

Oh, right! Thanks for calling, please leave your message after the beep. Okay, bye~!’

The beep sound follows soon after, and he begins talking.

“Babe, I know you’re mad at me. I was wrong. I’m sorry. It’s time to come back home now. Please?”

A second beep follows, signalling that the time to record his message is over, so he ends the call. He ignores the countless notifications piling up on his screen, all the Condolences messages he’s been receiving, and he places the phone in his pocket and starts making the bed.

“Wow, well done, Channie! I’m impressed!” He can almost hear you chuckling, and turns his head towards the door, fully expecting you to be there laughing at him and praising him for doing the bare minimum, but there’s no one there.

Once the bed is made, he heads towards the living room. A half empty glass of water is on the table, its margins stained by your lipstick, next to a plate full of breadcrumbs.

Tsk, how messy. He rolls his eyes, knowing exactly why you haven’t cleaned up. You must’ve eaten in a rush again, this bad habit of yours.

You’re always complaining about stomach aches, but you keep eating on the go while getting ready for work in the morning, and never enjoy your meals.

He takes a picture of the crime scene and opens his phone again, shooting you a text.

“Forgot to clean up?” He asks, then attaches the picture of the plate and glass.

He knows you’ll probably laugh and start excusing yourself once you see it. If he were to check his gallery, half the pictures are surely of the dirty plates you simply forget about on the table.

Chris always washes them, but never fails to remind you of it.

This time, too, he takes the plate and glass to the sink and turns on the hot water. He rubs the plate with a dish sponge with way too much dish soap on it, and he hears your voice in the back of his head again:

“My, Channie! You’re so wasteful! You only need a drop. A single drop!!! What are you using so much dish soap for???”

He starts laughing as he grabs the glass and throws the half-drunk water out, but before washing it, he notices the lipstick stains again. He smiles to himself and sets the glass aside, wiping it off with a napkin, careful to not accidentally remove the stain.

Your lips left such a pretty mark, he doesn’t want to part with it yet, even if you are going to give him an earful later for not washing the glass properly.

When there is nothing else to do around the house, he opens his laptop and starts sorting out his emails. All of their schedules for the month have been cancelled, and their upcoming comeback postponed indefinitely.

He doesn’t think it’s necessary, but at the end of the day, the company’s rules must be followed. You’ve complained about him working too much anyway. Maybe this is the chance for you two to spend a bit more time together.

All he has to do now is wait for you to come back.

~

He waits.

And waits.

And waits…

Felix visits with Jisung and Seungmin the next day.

And then the next, Jeongin comes with Changbin and Hyunjin.

Minho drops by every morning with enough food to last Chris the whole day.

His manager comes once a week and makes sure to call him daily.

Whenever he’s on the phone, he paces around the empty apartment and looks around. He sees the jewellery you left on the coffee table; your sports shoes are still on the doormat in front of the door, your face creams and serums stay untouched in the bathroom, your hairbrush lays by the sink filled with loose hair, and there’s a half-ironed shirt on the ironing table in the dressing.

You don’t like other people touching your stuff, so he leaves everything just like that, waiting for you to come back and fix it all.

The glass with your lipstick stain on it is still there on the counter, next to the sink.

He’s texted you about a dozen of times since he first messaged you about it and the plate that’s long been washed, but you haven’t replied to a single text. Your phone still goes directly to voicemail, but worst of all… no matter how much he’s waiting…

… you don’t come home, and the apartment stays empty.

~

‘Hello! You’ve called… wait, am I doing this correctly?

Yes. The beep-

Oh, right! Thanks for calling, please leave your message after the beep. Okay, bye~!’

~

‘Hello! You’ve called… wait, am I doing this correctly?

Yes. The beep-

Oh, right!’

~

‘Hello!’

---

Anger

---

It’s been more than a month, but Chris still sets the table for you each time he eats what Lee Know brings him.

He wouldn’t bother eating much, if Minho wouldn’t have insisted to tag along to practically every meal after he noticed that he’s barely touching the food.

He always places one more plate on the table, right in front of him, at your usual spot.

“Just in case she comes back and gets hungry.” He explains to Minho, but he’s had enough of this.

“Hyung…” Lee Know hesitates. “She… she’s not coming back. You know that, right?”

His tone is quiet, and he tries to approach the subject as gently as possible. However, it’s time for him to do something. You’ve died more than five weeks ago, but Chris hasn’t moved any of your belongings, not even to store them.

There’s a box of tampons on the kitchen counter, but he won’t even move that, for fuck’s sake. He keeps waiting for you to come home, as if he doesn’t realise the fact that you’ve passed away.

“No, she will.” Chris says firmly, daring Minho to challenge him more.

“Hyung… She… she died. She’s not coming back.”

“You’re wrong!” Chris shouts all of a sudden, hitting the table with his fist strong enough to make the tableware bounce. He knows Minho is right. After waiting for you for weeks on end without you coming back, after dialling your number about a million times, after sending countless texts with no reply from you… he knows. But…

“Chris…” Lee Know stares empathetically.

“You’re all wrong! She… she’s coming back, goddamit!” He shouts again, this time grabbing the table’s edges and flipping it. The empty plates fall to the ground and shatter in the process, and Minho’s pot spills on the carpet, staining it.

Chris tries to cling to the last bit of hope he has regarding you, but he knows you’re dead. Everyone else was right, and he was wrong. You’re really gone.

“I’m sorry, Hyung. You… you need some help…” Lee Know continues with a shake of his head, bending down to grab the broken pieces of glass.

When he’s done cleaning up the carpet and the floor to the best of his abilities, he takes one more look at Chan. He looks like a ticking bomb, ready to explode again any second now.

Lee Know doesn’t know if it would be good to give Chan space, or if he should insist again that he comes with him to the dorms.

He decides to ask him anyway, and to his surprise, Chris nods and packs a small bag with clothes and hangs it on his shoulder.

They made their way out to Lee Know’s car, and once they’re at the dorms, they say goodbye as each goes to their respective apartments. Chris used to live with 3RACHA and Hyunjin, so that’s where he’s headed.

The dorms are as messy as he remembers, but they bring him comfort nontheless. His old room brings him solace as well.

There are a few pictures or you on the small desk in his room, and he looks at them fondly. You’re smiling beautifully in all of them. It’s the you he remembers. You, at your first date; you, the first time he took you to an amusement park; you, when all your fingers were coated in chocolate after you attempted to bake him a cake.

It’s you.

God, how he misses you.

How dare you leave him alone?

How dare you?

Why didn’t you fucking look to the left before crossing the road? Even if the traffic light was green, you should’ve fucking looked.

You’ve always been careful to look, so why…?!

Watching the pictures no longer makes him happy. It makes him angry, and out of anger, he punches the wall behind the desk with all his strength.

It makes no sense, really, but the pain in his fist takes away from the pain in his heart, so he punches the wall again.

He decides to try and calm down after hitting the wall two more times, and he hops into his old bed, shutting his eyes tight and thinking about the night you died.

‘I’m really fucking done with how overbearing you’re being. I was doing fine before I met you, and I sure as hell do just fine without you over my head every fucking minute of the day.’

Those were some of the last words he’s said to you.

Since you’ve died a few blocks away from the JYPE building, it happened right after you left.

You died thinking he doesn’t love you.

You died thinking he doesn’t need you.

He does.

He needs you.

If only he’d gone home with you that night, as you asked him, you would’ve never died.

It’s his fault.

It’s his fault you’ve died.

He killed you.

He lashed out on you and blamed all his stress on your attempts to take care of him, and he killed you.

Fuck, it’s all his fault.

For the first time since the funeral, he bursts out in tears, and he is unable to stop. It’s like all of his repressed feelings for the past month and a half come biting him right in the ass.

It’s so hard to breathe. He’s getting suffocated.

He can’t.

He can’t breathe anymore.

You’re on top of him, suffocating him.

“You killed me.” You say, blood running down your face.

He can almost feel the drops hitting him, with your face so close to him.

“It’s your fault. “You knew what you were saying. You killed me.” You say again cruelly, and Chris shuts his eyes even tighter.

His cries soon turn to wails, and he’s being loud enough for Changbin to hear him and get alerted. He opens the door without knocking, and upon seeing Chris, his heart breaks.

He just goes to the bed and throws himself on top of Chris, as if to shelter him somehow from the intense grief he’s feeling.

When his cries quiet down, Changbin takes a look at his friend and sees his injuries.

“Holy fuck, your hand is bleeding. Are you okay?” He asks in panic, standing up quickly to grab the first aid kit to bandage his fist.

“It’s all my fucking fault!” Chris screams at the top of his lungs, and his destructive mood comes back. He stands up, wanting to destroy it all. Every damn picture, every fucking thing in this room.

He wants to set it on fire and let it it all to pieces, letting himself burn as well. It’s what he deserves for killing you.

Sure, the drunk driver that hit you was directly responsible for taking your life, but the way he acted that night… nothing would’ve happened if it weren’t for him.

He killed you.

Changbin sees right through his erratic behaviour and anticipates his moves, throwing himself once more at Chris, holding him tight and not letting him move, no matter how much Chris lashes out. He doesn’t let go until his friend calms down again, and even after he does, he decides to camp in the room with him and keep him company.

---

Bargaining

---

It’s been three months, and Chris still has some difficulties accepting that you’re truly gone.

He probably shouldn't be here so soon, but it’s like he has to make sure again that you’re… that you’re dead.

Your parents did a great job with your grave; your gravestone made of marble stands tall , centred right in front of the ground you’re buried deep within, and the intricate designs of sculpted vines and flowers reminds him of you.

Oh, right. Flowers.

Chris remembers he brought a bouquet of pink peonies with him. He’s been holding onto it tightly ever since he bought it and stepped in a taxi to come here, but as soon as he got to your grave, time stopped, he couldn’t breathe anymore, and he forgot about the flowers in his hands.

It’s not like you need any more; there are so many fresh flowers all over and around your grave. Your parents also planted lots on top of the soil above your coffin, decorating your rest place beautifully.

You’ve always said you wanted a garden, and now, you have one: your little space in the uncomfortably large cemetery at the edge of the city.

“My favourite flowers. Aren’t they pretty?” He swears he can hear your voice, and turning to his left side, his breath hitches in his throat, choking him.

There you are, holding the bouquet of pink peonies he bought with a large smile on your face, but just like last time, he blinks, and the bouquet is in his hands, as it’s been the whole time, and you’re nowhere in sight.

A tear rolls down Chan’s cheek. He wishes he would’ve bought you that house and garden you’ve been dreaming of, instead of the convenient apartment in the city centre.

He wishes he would’ve proposed, and that you’d build a little family together. After all, you were his solace in the midst of all the chaos of his life. The sole person bringing him purpose and comfort.

But now you’re gone.

He wishes he wouldn’t have always put his job first. Especially now, as his schedules stay empty due to the company fearing for his well-being, he realises how much free time he could’ve had if only – if only he’d listened to you.

He regrets all those late nights in the studio when he could’ve been home sleeping next to you.

He regrets every breakfast, lunch and dinner he’s missed because he was too busy with making a new song, learning a new dance, or preparing for a new comeback. Now, none of it matters. You’re gone.

He could’ve postponed all of them. He could’ve done so much differently, and he regrets it all.

You’re gone.

He places the peonies in a little vase near your gravestone, next to some daffodils someone must’ve brought you a few days ago.

Then, he raises his gaze and reads the inscription in the headstone’s marble. It’s your favourite poem by Clare Harner.

Good choice, he thinks, as he goes through the lines of Immortality and traces each engraved letter with his fingers.

~

‘Do not stand by my grave and weep

I am not there, I do not sleep.

I am the thousand winds that blow,

I am the diamond glints in snow.

I am the sunlight on ripened grain,

I am the gentle, autumn rain.

As you awake with morning's hush,

I am the swift, up-flinging rush

Of quiet birds in circling flight.

I am the day transcending night.

Do not stand by my grave, and cry--

I am not there, I did not die.’

You stopped reciting the poem and took a deep breath, looking expectantly at Chan.

“Isn’t this poem beautiful?” You asked him, your eyes sparkling.

“A bit morbid, but yes.” Chris chuckled as he placed the freshly made pasta dish in a large plate and served you dinner.

“Aww, thank you. Smells so good!” You grinned in delight, your eyes closing into crescents, as they always did whenever you smiled brightly.

He couldn’t help but press a quick chaste kiss against your lips before he sat down as well.

“So, pasta master, show me how it’s done.” You encouraged him, nudging his elbow and handing him your fork and spoon.

“Tsk, you’re so spoiled.” Chris tutted jokingly, but complied nonetheless and started twirling the pasta with the fork. Once it became an appropriate bite-sized portion, he raised the fork and supported it with the spoon as he brought the food to your mouth.

“Mmmm, so good!” You exclaimed with a few quick, excited small claps, as soon as you started feeling the flavours.

“Of course, what were you expecting?” Chris chuckled.

“Only the best from you.” She praised, petting his head fondly. “So, about the poem. Do you think it’s good enough for my presentation?”

“For Uni? Yeah, of course. Anything you’d pick is good enough, babe. You have your way with words, and you recited it very beautifully.”

“You think?” You beamed at his words, and he nodded. “Thank you, Channie. I really really like it, but I was afraid it wasn’t appropriate.”

“No, it is. You can use it.”

“If the lyrical genius says so, it must be true.” You stood up briefly and kissed his cheek, before returning to your seat and starting eating the pasta.

~

God, how many years ago was that?

Chris bursts out crying for the millionth time this month, and grabs the headstone with both his hands, feeling his knees grow weak.

On the brink of collapse, he uses your gravestone for support as he weeps louder.

“Can’t you come back?” He asks, his voice shaking. “Please. Please come back. Please. I… I promise I’ll do better, hm? I promise I’ll no longer stay as late in the studio, so please… please…”

The headstone can’t support him enough when his hands go weak as well, and he falls to his knees right in front of the poem.

“If only – If only I’d left with you that night. If only we hadn’t fought. God… please, please come back. We still have to make up.”

He cries for what feels like hours, and his body grows cold.

“Please… please…” He forces out again. “Come back… come back… we have so much we want to do… come back… I need… I need more time with you, please. Please.”

And he cries again.

And again.

And again, until he feels a hand on his shoulder a while later, and he turns his head around hopeful, thinking you might’ve somehow heard his pleas and returned to him.

His expression falls as he sees Seungmin looking concerned at him, and then he frowns even more noticing the pathetic way he looks in his eyes’ reflection.

Seungmin falls to the ground next to Chan, hugging his side tightly. Then, he helps him stand up and balance on his feet.

Chris is grateful for Stray Kids being there for him, but he just wishes… it would’ve been you standing next to him instead of Seungmin.

---

Depression

---

Chris has never experienced such an intense fatigue before. Every part of his body hurts, and it’s like his muscles are screaming at him each time he stands up. He is lethargic and looks haggard and in desperate need of rest, but rest doesn’t come by too easily as of late.

It’s 5AM and he’s in the studio again, but instead of doing anything productive, like finishing up that song he’s started working on two months ago that he keeps beating himself up for, he watches how beautiful you looked in the picture on his desk.

You used to be so full of life and so gorgeous. Your smile could make anyone happy, and your laugh – God, how much he misses your laugh.

He misses your voice.

Sometimes, he can’t even remember what it sounds like, and he thinks it’s absurd; it hasn’t been that long since you passed. Only about a year. He shouldn’t forget it so soon.

He grabs his phone and manually types the digits to your number. He still hasn’t forgotten it, and with how deep it’s been ingrained in his memory, he doesn’t think he ever will.

‘Hello! You’ve called… wait, am I doing this correctly?

Yes. The beep-

Oh, right! Thanks for calling, please leave your message after the beep. Okay, bye~!’

He hasn’t cried in some time while thinking of you, but now, he’s on the verge of tears again. You used to sound so carefree.

You used to be so happy.

He doesn’t know when he started referring to you in past tense, but as soon as the realisation hits him, he lets a couple of tears stain his cheeks.

Chris is tired. He hasn’t slept in… God knows how many days. He’s always had trouble sleeping, but nowadays, his insomnia has been getting worse and worse. His doctor prescribed him some pills that are supposed to help, but he can’t even be bothered to take them anymore. They don’t help him rest anyway. If he takes them, he wakes up confused, disoriented, and with an even worse headache.

His phone is still in his hand and his finger brushes over his screen. He didn’t have the heart to change his lockscreen picture. It’s still you.

He hasn’t seen you in what feels like years. The first few months when he’d been haunted by your ghost were tough, but now that he hasn’t seen any glimpse of you in months, day to day life is getting harder and harder to navigate.

You don’t even visit him in his dreams anymore, on the seldom nights he sleeps. If he takes the small white pills, he doesn’t dream of anything, and he so desperately wants to see you again, to touch you, that he refuses to take them. That’s the other reason he doesn’t.

Fuck, this is hard.

Are you supposed to feel so devastated after a whole year?

Back then, years passed by so quickly – it meant comeback after comeback, work, work and more work, and time with you was scarce but very appreciated. Time used to fly, and without him knowing how much time passed, you’ve celebrated your 5th anniversary. He was planning to propose to you soon. He was looking at rings, but then you…

Time doesn’t pass by as quickly anymore. This year stretched for so long, it felt like a decade instead of barely 12 months. With each passing month, it was like nothing was changing at all for Chris, but now, looking back, everything feels different.

He’s a completely different person than the one that was staying in the studio up until 5 AM last year, and he blames himself so, so much for his unchanging bad habits.

He blames himself for your death still. It’s his fault, and this thought only makes him more hopeless and more depressed.

He’s lost weight. A lot of it, to the point where the company had to have an ‘intervention’. Whereas last year his body was toned, his abs perfectly sculpted and his form admirable, he now looks like a ghost of himself.

If he eats, his stomach immediately starts hurting. He threw up 3 times this week alone.

Your death still has such a big emotional toll on him, and he’s tried it all. He went to therapy. He still goes four times a week at his company’s requests. He’s on medication that makes him groggy and unable to think, medication that shut down all his feelings – not just the negative ones. He is numb, and when he isn’t, he feels utterly devastated and lost.

What is he supposed to do now, without you?

How come a year has already passed without you by his side? He’s even contradicting himself. Sometimes he feels that the year passed by slowly, and sometimes he looks back and doesn’t understand how he was able to live a whole year without you.

He needs you.

Fuck, he needs you so much, he still can’t believe he even insinuated that horrible night that he didn’t.

Life no longer has any purpose, and everyone around him is growing more concerned by the day, as this once optimistic man has left together with you, leaving in his place only a pessimistic, desperate person.

He realised how badly he wants to die exactly 6 months ago, when your sudden disappearance finally started sinking in for real. When he stopped bargaining with God or with whatever cruel higher power there might be in the sky to let you come back, even if just for 10 minutes, for enough time for him to kiss and hug you and tell you how much he’s missing you.

6 months ago, he started decorating his thighs with unsightly marks, some of them faded, other fresh. He can’t do it anywhere else, no matter how much he’d wished to cut his wrists open, for fear of anyone else noticing.

So, he takes his despair out on his poor thighs, pressing the small blade against his skin until he feels something, anything. Until blood starts pouring down and the shower’s water pools down at his feet completely red.

He winces in pain every time he does it, but at least he feels something different than the numbness that grows bigger and bigger in his heart, consuming everything in its way. His whole soul feels absorbed by it, crushed under the pressure.

On the rare occasions he’s not numb, he feels the immense grief your absence left. He now knows that you’ve not only taught him how to love, but also how it is to lose what you love, and it hurts. It’s excruciating, and his heart is being ripped apart still, each and every time he thinks of you, and your absence is tearing him apart from the inside out.

He is physically sick. His headaches are worse than ever. He can’t sleep. He can’t eat. He can’t do anything anymore. He doesn’t want to, either.

The only thing he wants is to die, but even this wish feels selfish. He sees the way his friends look at him, how they’re walking on eggshells around him, to not somehow mention anything that could trigger a bigger depressive episode than what he’s already going through. He only pushes through it because of them, because he knows how it feels to lose someone you truly love, and he doesn’t want them to have to live with this black hole in their chests.

But… the loneliness he feels is simply merciless. It’s pouring down on him like unyielding unforgiving rain, not showing him any pity, and so he tries to fills his days with something that would make him forget about the gap in his soul.

The company let him come back to work a while ago, but they didn’t plan any comeback for Stray Kids for the time being, nor are they planning any for the near future. He’s grateful they’re giving him time, because he’s in no shape or form ready to do anything, not when he’s withdrawn himself so much from everything he used to love.

It’s difficult to compose any up-beat songs, or any song, for that matter. It used to come naturally for him, but not anymore. Changbin and Jisung are doing their best to support him and make up for his lack of concentration, but it feels like he’s not bringing anything to the table anymore.

He’s missed practice over and over again. The Kids meet up every two days to dance to their older songs, and as they don’t have anything new to work with, they even started learning the dances of other popular songs, or creating choreographies that would fit western music. Chan never went. He stopped dancing 12 months ago, and he hasn’t even stepped in the practice room since you died, not even once.

He hasn’t sung since you died either, and no one said anything about it. No one blamed him at all. Not even his company, who he was sure was going to fire him in the first 6 months after your death.

They said they trust him, and that they’re going to give him as much time as he needs to recover. They talk about him like he’s sick, but he’s not sick. They don’t seem to understand that.

He’s not sick, he’s just devastated, and he doesn’t think he’s ever going to be able to live again, to sing and dance on stage and to work hard, because this is no longer his dream.

He only dreams of death, and the thoughts of it are the only ones bringing him any solace. His therapist said he needs more time, and he quoted Lois Tonkin more times than he can count. He said that life will soon begin to grow bigger around grief, and that the intense sadness he’s feeling is just another expression of love for you. One that is permanent, but that will diminish as time passes and as he starts enjoying life again.

He doesn’t believe any of it, though.

How could he begin to enjoy life again, with you not there by his side?

---

Acceptance

---

He met someone.

For the first time in years, he felt genuine happiness again.

It took him one more year to start reengaging in some of his older hobbies and in his work. He started gradually going to the gym with Changbin and Lee Know, and eventually felt ready to start dancing and singing again. Another year later, he was ready to get back on stage and face all his fans, who’ve thankfully shown an unwavering support of his journey with grief.

He started feeling a bit better, and even though you were on his mind all the time, he was no longer dwelling on the pain of the loss of you. Your memory started bringing him more happiness, and he started looking fondly at all the sweet moments you’ve both shared together.

He started appreciating being able to have met you, to have lived 5 beautiful years next to you, and even though he still feels it is unfair that you’ve been taken away from him so cruelly and way too early, he no longer blames himself.

He still regrets the argument you had on the night you passed away, but he started slowly coming to terms with the fact that there was nothing he could do about it anymore, no way to take his words back. He started accepting that this is the one regret he’s going to have to take to his grave with him.

It took him one more year to start embracing life again, to start looking forward to his future with Stray Kids and to start actively making plans. He realised there was so much more he wanted to accomplish, and his dreams started coming back to him little by little, with the support of his friends and family.

He’s met her two years later.

When it happened, he was still not ready to give love a second chance. He thought it was way too soon, that he was disrespecting you by catching feelings for someone else. He felt like he was emotionally cheating on you.

He decided it’s time to join a support group at the recommendation of his friend, and he’s met a lot of people of all ages: some younger than him, some way older. The way they spoke about their former partners warmed up his heart, and they made him realise that loving again is not an affront to your memory. He can still keep loving you while loving someone else as well. He can still honour your memory.

He opened up to her, and he’s told her all about you. She wanted to know who you were, and she even visited your grave with him, holding his hand and talking to you at your gravestone. She told you she loves him and thanked you for being there for him while you were still alive, for giving him precious memories to hold onto.

She apologized for life being so unfair and taking you away from Chris so abruptly, and she assured you she’s going to take care of him to the best of her abilities.

She was really patient with him. She gave him as much time as he needed to come to terms with his feelings. He let him set the pace on what he was comfortable with doing. The first time they slept together was after more than one year of dating, but she didn’t mind waiting for as long as he felt necessary.

She loved him, and he loved her.

He proposed to her almost two years later, and they welcomed a child one year after their wedding.

He visited your grave on your 10th death anniversary with his son in his stroller, a baby boy he’s given your favourite name. You were still present in his thoughts, and his love for you never subsided.

He now simply has additional people to love and to grow old with, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t miss you still.

~

He decided to visit your grave again, even if walking has become a bit too difficult. Still, he manages the way from the car until your grave just fine, even if he has to support himself with a crane.

He is now old enough to be called ‘grandpa’, and not just as a joke between him and his friends. His hands are shaking, and his legs are a bit wobbly; his face is adorned with deep lines and creases, his forehead is wrinkly, and each fine line contributes to his now years-long life and experiences. The skin dropped around his cheeks, but every lady in the nursing home assures him he’s still a handsome man.

Your grave is no longer as tidy and beautifully adorned with fresh flowers. The soil has been overtaken by weeds and is in dear need of cleansing. He hasn’t visited in a while, unfortunately, his health issues making it a tad too hard, and with your parents long gone, there is no one else to take care of your resting place.

He makes a mental note to hire someone to clean it up and plant some flowers, but for the time being, he simply sets the bouquet of rose peonies in the small, chipped vase next to your headstone.

The inscription in the once immaculate marble is no longer as visible, but he doesn’t need to read it in order to recognise Immortality by Clare Harner. He still remembers the poem by heart, and also all sorts of other small, insignificant things, like your old phone number that’s been disconnected decades ago.

He looks at your smiling picture, the one he took when you’ve just graduated from university, and he realises as if for the first time how young you were.

He’s grown old; he has multiple wrinkles, his skin sagged everywhere, and his body went through each transformation it was supposed to when advancing in years.

But you?

You’ve stayed young. You’ve stayed beautiful, cheerful, smiling. Your face stayed clear of any creases.

You’ve remained just as he remembers you.

You are immortal.

“I’m sorry for not coming in a while.” He speaks with a soft smile on his face.

“That’s fine. You are probably very tired.”

He swears he could hear your voice. Maybe the poem is right, and the whispers of the wind transform in your saccharine voice he’s so dearly missed.

“I’m truly sorry for what I’ve said.” He continues, feeling the need to apologize again for his harsh words that night. No matter how many years have passed and how many time he’s already apologised, he’s never forgiven himself.

“But I’ve forgiven you long ago.” The wind whispers, and he closes his eyes and nods his head.

“I still love you. I’ve never stopped loving you. I hope you know that.”

“I know.” The sunlight caresses his back, warming him up as the wind strengthens. “And I’m waiting for you, whenever you’re ready to meet me, my love.”

~The End~

---

(A/N)  Obligatory song: 11 minutes by Halsey and YUNGBLUD.

When my best friend showed me this song, I immediately fell in love with the concept of the music video, that’s based on the five stages of grief. I thought to myself that I simply must write a story like this, but of course, that was months ago and I’ve completely forgotten about it, as I usually do with most random ideas that come to mind that I don’t write down lol.

I couldn’t really sleep for the past few nights, so my mind kept brewing ideas and scenarios to keep me busy and hopefully lull me to sleep.

It didn’t work, because the five stages of grief came to mind and I knew I had to immediately write a story about it and not let the idea go this time, so I got out of bed at like 6:30 am and wrote and wrote on and off for a total of 13 hours, until this 10k words of pure despair have been created.

I hope you enjoyed it even though it probably sent you spiralling into depression. Thank you for reading nonetheless!

Love,

Storm

[crystaljade22]

Forgotten Batsibling Pt2!!

Y/N: Your name

H/N: Hero Name

F/C: Favorite color

TW. Sad stuff, guilt, self-blame.

It’s been a month since Y/N died. After the flames were doused, the fire department and the police scoured the building looking for the body of the fallen hero. The only thing they found of the lost hero was the mask. There was no body left to be found, no remains, no ashes. The warehouse fire consumed all of them. The mask stays inside of the case which once held their suit, now empty. A memoir to the house without you, empty.

Bruce has tried his best to be strong, to be the hero that Gotham needs. But he can’t help but spend hours looking at the mask with regret and guilt. Regret for letting you go in to save Jason, and guilt for not realizing that the savior needed to be saved. Guilt for letting another child die. 

Damian has refused to even enter the Batcave. All he sees is a constant reminder of the sibling he once had, the person who would go to the moon and back for all of them, now gone. He swears he can still hear your voice calling his name from downstairs, and he can’t help the tears that spring to his eyes when he thinks about you. 

Your room hasn’t been touched since their death, the door shut and locked up. No one has ever been able to look at the room, their guilt or sadness overpowering their will to do so. 

Dick constantly wishes for just one more patrol with you, to hear your voice one more time. He regrets every moment he tried to get away from you, or left you behind. He glances behind him, hoping that you’ll be right there, just like you usually would despite his attempts to shake you off. 

Tim has noticed now when his coffee runs out and tastes different than usual. Whenever he’s on a mission, he notices that his success percentage is lower than normal. There is no one there to jump in when a step goes in the bin. No one waiting to check on him after a mission. He’s finally noticed and acknowledged the fact that you’re gone. And he’s shut down any emotions that come with it. He is probably the only one in the family who could open your bedroom door, but he can’t bring himself to do it because he feels he isn’t worthy to do so. 

Now Jason on the other hand, can’t pull himself out of his work. He feels he can’t take off the mask because if he does, he’s afraid he’ll crumble and fall apart. He keeps telling himself to stay strong, and to stay Red Hood because right now, the people of Gotham don’t need Jason, they need you. They need H/N. As soon as Jason takes off the mask when he gets to one of his safe houses, he instantly breaks down. All he can see is the moment he knocked you down, and caused your demise. The last thing he saw of you was you holding the beam up for him to escape. He swears he can feel you watching over him, even though he caused your death. All he can think is that he’s the reason you're dead. He killed you, the only person who ever seemed to care, even when he had tried to hurt you. 

You didn’t get the proper funeral that everyone felt you deserved. The people of Gotham mourned for days, the Commissioner and the Mayor themselves speaking at your funeral. Funny enough, even the Joker took the day off despite the clear opportunity he had to go and create utter chaos. There was no body to bury. The city lowered an empty casket into the ground, and then erected a statue of you over it. A memory forever ingrained into the people of Gotham’s minds of the hero who once lived to save the city. 

Of course, Bruce had to figure out how to tell the press that Y/N Wayne was gone, without revealing the fact that you were H/N. They managed to make up a story of you falling seriously ill, and succumbing to it. They played it off to the media as having a private funeral and having the body buried in their graveyard. Y/N was buried beside what was Jason’s grave, an F/C flower sprouting from the dirt over the empty casket. The gray headstone reading:

“Here lies Y/N. A sibling, friend, and a loving person. May their memory live on. 20XX-20XX”

Now, for the super short scenario.

Damian stood at the grave, looking down at the gray stone. Tears stung his eyes, rolling down his face, but he didn’t care. The rain hid them anyway. He stood soaked and cold, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t feel it anyway. The cold rain continued to pelt his body, leaving him soaked to the bone. His eyes fall to the F/C flower, its petals still bright. All he could think about was the fact that there was nobody under his feet. All that was there was an empty box covered in a layer of soaked dirt. He couldn’t help the sob that escaped his throat at the thought of never seeing you again. The last he saw of you was you running into the building to save Jason, a brave face filled with worry plastered onto your face. He couldn’t help but blame Jason slightly, but he knew that you went in fully knowing the risks of what you were doing. As he stared at the grave, he couldn’t help but feel like someone was watching him. Something was telling him, he needed to go back to Robin. The people needed Robin. He wiped his eyes, standing up straighter before turning and heading back for the manor, determined to prevent another family member from dying. Little did he know, after he had left the grave, a figure stood over the grave, reading the stone. Their shoulders rose and fell with a laugh before the figure disappeared into the rain. All that remained was a crumpled F/C flower, the petals littering the ground.

[unknown-lab]

What is Love? (Part 2)

Pairing: Dazai Osamu x reader

Genre: Angst

Warnings: Cheating

Part 1: What is Love?

Here you go, part 2! This is kinda rushed, and I wasn't planning on making part 2, but a lot of people requested for it. So here it is, enjoy!

Amidst whispered echoes, they proclaimed the essence of existence. With hope blooming, I embraced a fleeting glimpse of bliss, only to witness his departure. If this is what so-called normal life is, I'd rather not go through it again.

So here I am, leaning on the balcony railing, gazing at the view before me. A theme park lies not far away, where Dazai and I would go on dates. It was a joyful place, and I imagine him now, perhaps creating new memories with someone else, riding roller coasters together. On the other side, there's a beach—a serene spot Dazai would take me to when life became overwhelming. It may not have been as thrilling as the theme park, but it offered solace. Could they be there now, strolling together and reminiscing, just as we used to?

To others, the view would be filled with vibrant colors, but for me, it's now shrouded in shades of gray, black, and white. No vibrant hues remain. Ah, if I were to leap from this 20th-floor balcony, where would I end up? Heaven or Hell? There seems to be nothing left to lose; I've already lost everything.

Climbing onto the railing, I hold onto the wall for support, tears streaming down my cheeks. Why… Why must I endure this pain? Why is it that others can simply live happily…? If I take that leap, everything will come to an end…

Suddenly, a door slams, jolting me from my thoughts. Before I can react, a strong force pulls me back, wrapping me in a warm embrace. Held tightly, I find solace in the arms that envelop me, soothing my anguish. It feels as though this person understands my pain. In that moment, I don't care who he is—all I want is to release everything I've been holding inside. And deep down, I sense that he's not a bad person.

As the storm within me subsides, I look up at him, still cradled in his embrace. Slowly, I pull away and ask, "Why are you here?" This person before me is my therapist, whom I've been seeing for the past two years. I used to have numerous issues before I met Dazai, and my therapist and I would have weekly sessions. However, as time went on and I grew closer to Dazai, our meetings became less frequent—sometimes once a month or even longer intervals.

"You missed your appointment. And… you mentioned that if you ever missed one, I should come to check on you." He releases me and gently wipes away my tears. It becomes evident that he genuinely cares for his patients. "Please don't do that again."

After explaining what occurred, he offers to continue helping me as my therapist. Every day after work, he visits my apartment to ensure I'm not engaging in self-destructive behavior. Even when he's too busy, he sends thoughtful messages and arranges for food delivery. Initially, I felt guilty for burdening him and rejected his assistance numerous times. However, he remained insistent, stating that it was in my best interest. I cannot deny that I appreciate his unwavering support.

During his extended breaks, he takes me on vacations overseas. Over time, his presence has helped me heal from the heartbreak I experienced months ago. Though thoughts of Dazai still cross my mind occasionally, my therapist is always there to gently redirect my focus. I've ceased dwelling on him and started concentrating on my career. And as for… any feelings I may have for my therapist, I choose to keep them to myself, maintaining the professional boundaries of our relationship.

On a Christmas night,

as we head back to my place, I notice a familiar silhouette standing outside my house—it's Dazai. I wonder why he's here. He hasn't changed one bit; his presence is a reminder of a past I'm trying to move on from.

"You can go home first. Thank you for escorting me back. I might have something to attend to…" I apologize to my therapist, feeling sorry for disrupting our evening.

"It's alright. I'll stay here with you. What if you become sad again?" He steps aside, offering me a comforting smile. I can't quite grasp his emotions; since I've known him, he has always maintained a calm expression—after all, he's a therapist.

I approach Dazai, and he greets me with a smile. "May I help you?" I ask, returning the smile.

"Who's that?" Dazai looks at my therapist, confusion apparent on his face.

"Oh, him? He's my therapist," I reply, hoping to alleviate any concerns.

"Why is he here with you?" Dazai raises an eyebrow, growing even more puzzled.

"We went for a walk. Is there a problem?" My therapist joins us, casually draping his arm over my shoulder and drawing me closer.

"I see…" Dazai's expression turns to amusement, recognizing that our relationship extends beyond the confines of a typical doctor-patient dynamic. "Well then, I have somewhere else to be, and... Merry Christmas." Without waiting for a response, he walks away, his hands casually tucked into his pockets.

I call out his name, aching to understand the purpose of his visit. He can't simply be here to wish me Merry Christmas. There must be something more. Pushing my therapist's arm away, I rush after Dazai, grabbing his shoulder to make him face me.

"Why were you here?" I ask, my breathing slightly labored.

"To wish you a Merry Christmas, of course." Dazai tilts his head slightly and glances at his watch. "Is there anything else you need? I really must go now."

Unable to resist, I muster the courage to ask him. Memories flood my mind, overwhelming me. I've always been someone who struggles to let go.

"Do you think we can start anew?" I inquire, averting my gaze. I'm aware my current expression may not be ideal for this moment. I understand that I'm deluding myself—that compared to him, I'm insignificant. It's him who should be apologizing, not me. But those thoughts fade into insignificance now…

"Appreciate what you have in the present. The more you yearn, the more it can betray you," he responds, patting my head gently. I sense hesitation in his touch, perhaps a tinge of guilt. Surprisingly, his words don't wound me further; instead, they offer confirmation that it's time for me to move forward. I watch as he enters the elevator, and just before the doors close, he utters one last phrase.

"Perhaps in the next life, I'll treat you better."

Dazai's POV

Ah, she has found someone new, someone who can offer her the love and care she deserves. It's a relief to see her in the arms of someone who can support her fragile heart. I know I failed her in so many ways, and she deserves someone who can truly understand and cherish her.

As I watch her with her new partner, I can't help but feel a mix of emotions—regret, sadness, and a glimmer of hope for her future happiness. I know deep down that I wasn't the right person for her, that my own demons and shortcomings prevented me from being the partner she needed.

I reflect on the pain I caused her, the heartbreak that lingers as a reminder of my mistakes. She may appear strong and independent on the outside, but I know she has a vulnerable side that requires genuine support and care. And I have come to terms with the fact that I am not capable of providing that for her.

As I observe her moving on, finding solace in the presence of another, I hold onto the hope that in the next life, if fate allows, we may cross paths again. Perhaps then, I can learn from my past mistakes and be the person she truly deserves. I want nothing more than to see her genuinely happy, even if it means it won't be with me.

So, for now, I'll take solace in the fact that she has found someone who can bring a genuine smile to her face. And in the depths of my heart, I silently hope that in the next life, I'll have the opportunity to make amends and treat her with the love and respect she deserves.

[allyftt]

A quiet night

Hello! I hope you enjoy this little angst fic I wrote! Sorry for all the tears hehe- love yall ;D

_____________________________________

The time hit 9:00 pm as you sat at the kitchen table, eating alone for what seemed to be the hundredth time this year. You had grown used to being alone all the time since your very busy partner always had to leave the comfort of your home to take yet another mission upon himself. You couldn’t blame him since he was the one who accepted the title “General mahamatra” once again after escaping the akademiya. He had been betrayed by the sage and the other Matras once, but a new sage was in charge now and Cyno could start over. He was just never home due to his work even on his free days. It never made you stop loving him and you never forced him to stay, but you would lie if you said that it was easy to live alone after you promised a forever together just two months before. 

Scooping up a piece of the food in front of you, you couldn’t help but cringe at the fact that it tasted bitter. Not only had the food turned cold but this was your favorite dish, so the factor of the bitter taste lingering in your mouth made you feel more depressed. You got up with a sigh and walked to the trashcan to throw away the last bit of food on your plate. When did your favorite food become this bitter? Did you forget to add seasoning or was it the fact that the kitchen felt so cold and empty without Cyno?

Walking to and fro from the table to your used to be shared bed had never felt so heavy as if a burden so heavy even the strongest warrior would waver. Everything felt so lonely and cold now that one more person was missing from the shared house, the furnished building felt like a foreign place and for once you felt so small in this abode. You could only find solace in the fact you got company from the evening breeze, wishing that the hug from the wind was from someone else. 

You changed out of your clothes and laid down in the same cold bed that you used to share with Cyno. The house was so quiet and you hated it. You hated being alone, you hated being stuck at home, and you hated the fact that he left with a kiss and never told you when he would be back. It wasn’t fair how he could just bring up his work in the middle of the dinner and just announce that he would be leaving and you had to accept it. Did he ever think about what you think or how you felt?

No of course he didn’t. Because being a General mahamatra meant that he had to be busy and away from you a lot. He was forbidden from putting his lover in front of his work. 

You turned around in bed and looked at the frame with a picture of you and Cyno. The memory of meeting Tighnari in Gandharva ville suddenly filled your thoughts. He insisted on taking a photo of Cyno and you as a memory for the future. Cyno had been camera shy at first but you managed to convince him to take one. He wrapped an arm around you and met your gaze as Tighnari snapped a photo. The fox looked at the photo surprised but smiled softly upon seeing his jackal friend’s soft gaze. His love for you was shown brightly through this picture, but that was before he returned to the akademiya and started working for the sage again. 

Tears fell down your eyes and you sighed deeply, putting it face down as you turned your back to the door and hugged yourself under the blanket. You looked out through the window at the moon that shone brightly in the sky and you couldn’t help but wonder if Cyno looked at the moon too and thought about you. 

Meanwhile, there was a certain general walking home tired. He had a jackal piece on his head and white silky hair flowing in the cold breeze. He held his golden spear tight in his hand as he entered Aaru village.

Not knowing if he ever told you, the proud general had wanted to make you remember that he would always come back at the end of the day. He had priorities and responsibilities for the people in Sumeru, but he wouldn’t hesitate when he saw you. His heart beats loudly whenever you’re near and it stopped whenever you’re not here. 

His way towards home was sort of unfamiliar, he hadn’t been home for at least a week now but he was eager to find you again. He was excited even to cuddle or share dinner with you again, the general mahamatra was every stoic around others, but with his lover, he was nothing but an obedient dog. His tired feet started to accelerate when he saw the house within his sight. 

The sound of the door unlocking caught your attention as you sat up in bed surprised. Could it be your lover who was finally back after a week? You threw the blanket off yourself as you hurried down to the door. The sight of your lovely partner made the ache in your heart disappear just for a while. It almost felt like you fell in love all over again every time he came home and took off that jackal piece. His gaze met yours as he smiled softly and placed the headpiece on a stool. He opened his arms and your eyes swelled up in tears as you ran to him and hugged him tightly. Cyno wrapped his strong arms around you, burying his nose into your hair. He took a deep breath and gave out a satisfied sigh. He was finally home with the person he loved. 

He heard your sobs against his chest, making his heart ache. Cyno was well aware of the loneliness and the pain he caused you every time he left the house. He stroked your hair calmly. “Don’t cry my ruby, I’m home now” he whispered against the top of your head. You couldn’t help but smile softly at how gentle he was with you. His gentle touches showed how much he missed you during the time he was gone and you could feel how sorry he was by the way he left small kisses on your head and didn’t plan on letting go. 

A chuckle escaped your lips as you wiped the tears away and nuzzled your face into his chest. “You idiot, it’s happy tears because I missed you so much..” you spoke up, wincing at the way your voice broke mid-sentence. He let go of you a little and lifted your head by two fingers under your chin. You looked into his crimson eyes for the first time in a while as he stared back into yours. How can someone, who dances in the sun with a vision at your side, be so in love with someone dark and mysterious like him? 

He wasn’t quite sure of the answer but he didn’t want to know either because it felt like he would lose you if he figured out the truth. Cyno leaned down closer to your face and closed the gap between the two of you. The taste of his sun-kissed lips felt like heaven to you as his arms wrapped around your waist. It has been too long since he felt the taste of your sweet lips and tonight was one of the rare moments he wished that he was a normal guy like all the students in the akademiya. The general mahamatra wished that he could stay home all day and wake up to your beautiful sleeping face every morning, but he couldn’t so moments like these when he was home were very rare. 

Cyno deepened the kiss, savoring every flavor he could taste on your lips. It was an addiction he never knew he had until tonight. You placed your hands on his cheeks and made some space between you two to catch your breath. A string of saliva was hanging between your lips and you both were panting. No one could be blind enough to not see the lust in his eyes at the moment and all you could do was giggle as you moved your hands to his hair. Cyno’s hands moved to hold your hips as you ran your hands through his white locks and untangled every knot that had been caused by the wind.

Your eyes wandered over every scar, every feature, every freckle on his face, and upper body as your hands slowly found their place on his shoulders. You met his eyes and whispered, “It’s too late my love. We got tomorrow too!” you smiled softly. His eyes softened more and if you looked closely you could see the heart-shaped irises in his crimson eyes. “I hope you know what day it is..” you teased a little bit, causing the male to tickle you a little and wrap you in his arms. His breath tickled your ear as he whispered, “How could I forget the beautiful day I decided to ask this breathtaking lady to be the love of my life?” he smiled against your ear, causing a blush to spread to the tip of your ears. 

“Such a tease, Cyno!” you rolled your eyes with a smile and he laughed as he planted one last kiss on your cheek. “Just for you my dove” was all he said before he lifted you into his arms and carried you to your shared bed that finally didn’t feel so empty anymore. He laid you down as he took off all the accessories and clothes he had these days, leaving only the shorts on. You snuggled down under the blanket and watched him change before walking to you and leaving a kiss on your forehead, “I’ll just go and shower quickly, I’m back soon” You nodded and he walked to the bathroom. The shower wasn’t longer than 5 minutes and when Cyno got back, you had already fallen asleep. He smiled softly as he removed the towel around his hips and put on new pair of underwear. Cyno made his way to the other side of the bed and laid down behind your carefully to not wake you up. The last thing he would want right now is to wake you up and risk you not being able to sleep again. He wrapped the same blanket you had over himself and felt the warmth coming from you, making his tense muscles finally relax. Cyno wrapped his arm around your hips and pulled you closer to him before leaving a kiss on your cheek with a soft “goodnight my love” whispered to your ear. 

The next morning came faster than anyone thought. The morning breeze came in from the window you left open last night which woke Cyno up pretty early. It wasn’t like he was forced to go somewhere but it was a habit to wake up early whenever he felt any disturbance in his sleep. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes before looking at the time which read ‘5 am’. It was still too early to get out of bed, especially on his day off after weeks of staying in Sumeru city to help the sages and Lord kusanali. 

Suddenly feeling a movement under him made him look down only to see your sleeping face against his chest. You must’ve turned around during your sleep and were now nuzzling close to his chest. He smiled softly and leaned down to leave a kiss on your forehead making a smile creep up on your face. Cyno felt like he could lay here and stare at your face for hours, heck even days if he could. A buzz suddenly brought him back to reality, making him turn around to look at the akasha terminal on the nightstand. He couldn't believe it when he looked at the message that had been sent to him. They had a new mission and needed the general mahamatra to come in and work again. How could they be so selfish? It was not only his day off, but it was also the anniversary between him and you. Cyno knew how sad you would become if he left for work, but he couldn’t change anything right now. 

He struggled to get out of bed, in fear of waking you up and having to explain why he was leaving. He wouldn’t be able to bare the upset expression on your face when he told you that he had to leave. Cyno put on his work outfit before moving on to the accessories. He took the akasha from the nightstand, looking at it with so much hate until the point where his hand started to shake and he was ready to break the akasha in half. A sound came from the bed, making Cyno turn his head towards you with widened eyes. He feared that you were awake but when he saw you still sleeping he sighed in relief and decided to leave before it was too late. 

The sun rose to the sky, creating a beautiful day perfect for a celebration. Although the guilt in Cyno’s body did not agree with that sentiment, like a parasite eating him up from the inside he couldn’t help but worry. 

Sand ran through his toes like an ever-reminding fact that time was running out for his and his lover's special day. Making his way towards home had never felt this slow before and he had this urge in him to run, Cyno had hoped that he would make it home in time for at least a movie date. It may now be too late for a dinner date or fun at a restaurant, but it was never too late for movies. 

Or so he thought. 

When he arrived back home the sun had already fallen down and the moon's gentle embrace covered the whole ground of Teyvat. Hesitating to unlock the door that barricaded him from his lover, Cyno let out a sigh and started to make his way inside. His resolve to fix the celebration was stronger than his fear of an upset partner. Casting his eyes down he hoped to see a shadow or maybe even light, but he was met with nothing but darkness. Fear seized his heart as thousands of dangerous scenarios flashed through his mind, did you get kidnapped? Did you get hurt or worse, did you get killed on the date of your anniversary with him? 

His eyes finally went up and there on the kitchen table sat his dearest individual. Light from a candle caressed your face and a warm blanket draped over your shoulder, tears were evident and the red and puffy eyes were a bigger sign of an upset significant other. Cyno quickly tried to apologize and make some sort of apology, but never got the chance as a pillow was thrown at him. 

“Hey! What was that for?” The albino asked with a hint of hurt, he didn’t understand why you were so upset. Sure, today was a very important day, but more of them will come in later years. 

“Take a look at the clock,” You said “Just look!” Tears streamed even harder down your cheeks. You stared at his visible eye making its way toward the clock hanging by the wall of your lovely abode. 

23:59. Not even a movie night was salvageable at this point. The day was already ending, but as much as Cyno felt regret, he couldn’t share the sentiment for you had fallen for a matra, the general of Mahamatra. He had a duty and you should understand that he couldn’t be lenient towards his job, it was either the people of Sumeru or you. 

His duties were sadly just too important for him to abandon and he wanted you to understand. 

“My desert flower, please don’t be sad. We have next year to make up for this year.” He started with a whisper “I can’t just abandon the people of Sumeru, they need me-”

“And I don’t?!” You refuted with angry tears.

He swallowed hard at the sound of your broken voice ringing in his ears. “ That’s not what I meant my rub- ” he whispered but you spoke up before he could finish his sentence

“Well, that’s what it fucking sounds like Cyno” The way you said his name made his heart ache. He had heard his name million times but never hated the name so bad as when it came out of your mouth in moments like these. It had a sour taste in it and he hated it. 

“I have been supporting you ever since you came back to the akademiya and never said a word to you about how upset I am. You’re smart enough to realize it yourself but our relationship is slowly falling apart Cyno, I don’t want to live like this anymore.” You exclaimed, feelings of frustration gnawing at every inch of your body.

“I don’t want to wake up one day and never know when you will be back. Every mission you take is so dangerous, that is why the anniversary is so important to me. Now I see that this was one-sided. The worry and panic I feel are all for naught cause you don’t care” Strangely everything that left your mouth was eerily calm. 

His heart broke down at the words coming from your mouth. This must’ve been something you had been thinking about for a while. It wasn’t something that just came out of the blue and he knew you well enough to know that you always consider your words before you speak. This was his fault and he had no one else to blame for the emptiness than himself.

He looked at you with sorrowful eyes as you took deep breaths, trying to calm yourself down. “The people of Sumeru can be handled by Lord kusanali for one day, they won’t be dying if their general mahamatra isn’t there. Do you even realize what an easy target you are Cyno?” you crossed your arms and hot tears rolled down. 

His eyes widened at your words and he opened his mouth to say something but not a single word came out, not even a single sound that told you that you were wrong. You felt the pain overtake your body, making you look down at your feet and sob. “I knew I was right..”

He teared up after hearing your question to him and the constant nagging in his heart made him feel so sick to his stomach. 

“You’re wrong” he finally spoke up. You looked up at him and for a moment you hoped that he would say that you were wrong for assuming that he was all that naive. How could you be ever so wrong for assuming that? 

“The fact that I am naive is wrong, I’ve done this job before and I know what I am doing. People would die if I’m not present at the right time, all the people that have died at my hands are those who deserved judgment. You have to understand that I have no right to talk against anyone’s orders! Believe me that I never want to leave you… and I love you with my whole world and life my ruby..” he crossed his arms and looked at you. 

“ and there you go again, defending yourself with your “righteous ways”. Why don't you go and marry them if you love to work so much that not even a single day can be spent with the woman you promised to love until death do us part?” you pointed towards the door with tears rolling down your face. 

“You’re overreacting” was all he said before a deep silence filled the room. You turned to the chair and took the blanket before pushing the chair into the table. “Like I said there will be time for our anniversary next year. Maybe if you would’ve stayed in the akademiya you would see how busy and important it is to work there” 

Suddenly a voice came from the akasha as a man announced another mission in the desert this time. When the general had finished speaking he looked up just to be met by an empty kitchen. The candle had been blown out and darkness embraced him together with the sadness and anger in his chest. He turned around and saw you walking towards the shared bedroom. 

“So you’re going to give me the silent treatment? Fine! Then I might as well take the mission if you’re going to overreact like this.” he said irritated walking to the door. You mumbled something to yourself, Cyno with his keen hearing heard it and stopped at the heart of his tracks 

“Do whatever you want. You’re dead in my eyes”

He looked back towards you, but you were already in the room. It felt like someone stabbed him with a knife as he stepped out of the house and closed the door, locking it behind him. 

Cyno summoned his spear as he walked out to the ancient desert land. All your words were still fresh in his head and he couldn’t stop thinking about the last thing you said. He didn’t mean to cause such a big misunderstanding, he wanted you to understand that he had to be away. Yet, he only had himself to blame for your anger, he could’ve taken today off and spent the day with you. He could’ve declined the mission… He could’ve.

You were right and he hated it. Never had he heard you express how upset it made you feel when he left, you never stopped him from going either which made him feel relieved then, but now it only brought more salt to the open wounds that were left after tonight's argument. 

Because being alone in the dark and quiet desert only made the thoughts of the fight come back. There was no time to think about that right now he told himself and tried his best to focus on the road in front of him.

He arrived at the place of the mission and signaled the sage about his arrival. He took off the akasha and started looking around the place for any suspicious activity but found nothing more than an empty camp. The eremites must’ve left shortly and would be back soon so all he had to do was wait, but that’s exactly what he shouldn’t do right now. 

Cyno tried to scan every corner he could see, in case they were hiding and waiting for the right moment to attack him. Though he realized soon enough that this was highly impossible to do when all he could think about was you and the thick air that was left after your argument.

Suddenly there was a sound and a widening of red eyes. Cyno turned around— just in time to see an eremite behind him with a silver dagger plunge through Cyno’s back. For a moment, time seems to stop. Neither of them were moving from their place as the moment sank into both of their skulls. Did Cyno just lose his guard and let himself get stabbed by a lowlife eremite? 

The Eremite looked at the blade horrified, he couldn't believe that he had been able to sneak up on Cyno and stab him. The man seemed to have gotten back to his senses faster than Cyno and a grin formed on his lips. He yanked out the dagger and Cyno crumpled to the ground as the time hurtled back at full speed. 

“I finally got you General mahamatra. Here’s the judgment for all your sins. Now you die out here all alone” was all he said before he yanked accessories from Cyno that was worth something and ran away before Cyno could catch him. The mahamatra tried to get up again to walk home and seek help or to catch this damn eremite, but he couldn’t move a muscle. 

He turned around and lay on his back in the sand, looking up at the starry night as he slowly felt his body go cold. He couldn’t move his fingers or his legs and his head was spinning. Was this the destiny of the General mahamatra? This was how his life ended and he just had to accept it. 

A sudden thought of you appeared in his head, his feelings overflowing and so does his tears. He had left you sad at home probably thinking that he hated you. He regretted all choices he made tonight. He should’ve turned around and kissed you, he should’ve told you that he loved you, he should’ve hugged you and reassured you that everything was alright, but he didn’t and he would never be able to do it either. He would never see your beautiful face again and that breathtaking smile that always lit up his days. He would never be able to greet you with a kiss or ever tell you that he loved you. 

The corner of his lips turned up when his eye caught the sight of your favorite constellation in the sky. His body started to feel more numb and it was almost like his body had given up completely, but he wanted to see you one last time.

He heard his name being called from a distance but didn’t have the power to turn his head toward the voice. It did sound like your voice at first, but he must’ve imagined things. Why would you leave your safe home to come and look for him? 

Though he did want to hear your voice one last time tonight. You could tell him how much you hated him, how selfish he was, or that you loved him. Whatever was fine with him, he just wanted to hear your voice. 

Your face appeared in front of his and he looked weakly into your eyes with his smile growing wider. Was he hallucinating right now?

You scratched your knees in the hard sand but didn’t care. What was more important was that the one you had sworn to love all your life lay in front of you and was minutes from dying. You were crying and he hated it, “Cyno, What happened to you?” you asked him. He stayed quiet at first, admiring your beautiful eyes because he didn’t want to reveal the truth that he had been stabbed, but he couldn’t lie to you.

Cyno raised his hand to your cheek and caressed it. “ I lost focus and got stabbed..” he whispered. Eyes started scanning his body, looking for the stab wound to be able to put pressure on it. He understood what you were doing and took your hand in his, caressing it. “There’s no point in putting pressure on it. It’s on my back.. just let me see your beautiful face and smile my dessert flower” 

You gritted your teeth and tried your best to keep the tears from flooding. “You’ll be alright Cyno. You got to stay with me.. I can’t lose you!” you begged, but you knew as much as him that his time was now cut short in Teyvat and he would be a part of Celestia.

One thing Cyno knows, better than almost anyone, is how to spot a lie and he knows that you were lying, every single time you told him that things were going to be alright, he just knew. But he was too tired to think about that right now. All he wanted to do was stay here, breathing in the smell of the cold night and your perfume while you carefully card fingers through his hair. 

You lifted his upper body into your embrace, wiped your tears, and moved his hair from his face. He looked up with tears in his eyes and you could hear how he struggled to breathe. 

“I’m sorry.. I should’ve considered your feelings before my selfish ones. I thought that I could finish my missions and then have all time in the world for you, but I couldn’t and I’m sorry for that” he whispered. 

“I forgive you Cyno.. please stop talking and stay with me..” you sobbed. Your gazes met and it was like he fell in love all over again. He wiped some of the tears that had rolled down your cheeks. 

The world around him started to fade, and even the pain didn’t seem so bad anymore. He felt like he was drifting, far away. It was so hard to hold on with the last of his strength bleeding out from his broken grasp…so hard to keep his eyes open…

“My ruby, Could you do something for me?” he mumbled. Your chest clenched at the sound of his weak voice, but you nodded either way. “Of course, anything for you Cyno..” 

He smiled softly and tilted his head towards your chest to feel your warmth one last time. “Could you smile for me..? I want to see that beautiful smile you always have whenever I see you..”

You looked at him surprised for a moment before taking a shaky breath. One selfish side of you didn’t want to fulfill that wish because you believed that he would make it alive… he had to, but the other side wanted to do what he asked to. He suddenly tilted his head to look up at you since you never gave him an answer. 

You met his gaze and caressed his cheek with a weak smile. Even if your lips were trembling a lot, you still managed to keep a big enough smile to make your lover smile back at you. He seemed satisfied and it made you happy. 

The world around him faded, and even the pain didn’t seem so bad anymore…he felt like he was drifting, far away. It’s so hard to hold on now, with the last of his strength bleeding out from his broken grasp…so hard to keep his eyes open…

He exhales, and his eyes slip shut, and everything fades until there is nothing left at all.

As the moon was up, many stars created beautiful constellations and a new star found its place somewhere in your favorite constellation. 

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Bye bye my small butterflies ;D

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