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cursedonyx · 2 months

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The Bars Between Us

Sebastian Sallow x MC

Oneshot AU in which Sebastian was sent to Azkaban despite Ominis and MC (named Dracaena in this fic because it’s my current favourite name) trying to keep his secrets. Ominis and Dracaena spent the next several years trying to free him, and eventually succeed. Sebastian is not the same, Azkaban has sapped him of everything he once was, but a little TLC from the woman he has always loved sets him back on track.

Word Count – 8.6k

Warnings – Angst, traumatised Sebastian, aftermath of Azkaban, engaged Ominis/MC, Ominis approves MC sleeping with Seb, seriously Seb’s been through the wringer, Azkaban is horrible, nursing Seb back to health, smut (MDNI), handjob M!receiving, oral M!receiving, sub!Sebastian, MC feels a bit guilty bc her boy is a wreck

Six years.

It had been six years since the terrible events of fifth year, and six years since Sebastian had stood trial for the murder of Solomon Sallow. Six years since he was sentenced to life in Azkaban.

Six years since Dracaena and Ominis had scrambled to find out who had condemned him, and vowed to make it right.

No sooner had they left Hogwarts, not able to fully appreciate the finality of riding the little boats across the Black Lake towards Hogsmeade station, leaving behind the place in which they had matured into adults, leaving behind the wonders and horrors in equal parts, that they both signed up for jobs at the Ministry for Magic, working in Magical Law Enforcement, searching for some kind of loophole, some kind of law, some kind of anything that would get their best friend released from hell.

After four agonising years, they managed it. Together, pouring over paperwork by candlelight until the small hours for months, they built a solid defence, their unwavering logic and staunch reasoning standing up to the needlepoint scrutiny of the powers that be. Of course, they knew it was a long shot all the same. The Ministry simply didn’t care about extenuating circumstances, considering those incarcerated to be less than human, doomed to serve their time no matter what new evidence came to light.

Ominis had to throw his weight around a bit. Subtle, hissed threats, muttered warnings and an overuse of his famous glare and family name eventually frightened enough people to get those with the ability to make changes to listen. And then Dracaena came in, her fame and her charm the honey to Ominis’ salt, making promises she never intended to keep, assuring those too nervous to make the jump to support them, doing favours that left an unsavoury taste in the back of her throat.

All of it proved worth it in the end. Sebastian’s release papers were handed over, and Dracaena packed a small bag.

“I’ll be a week,” she said to Ominis. “They want him to stay in a sort of halfway house for a while, to make sure he’s not going to go mental and start hexing everyone in sight. Personally, I’m just glad he’s going to get some time to start readjusting to life outside.” She tilted her head. “Won’t you come with me?”

“Best not,” Ominis said, for the fiftieth time, his patience unending. “I don’t want to overwhelm him, and you’ve always known how to calm him down when he gets too… well.”

She chuckled lightly. “That’s assuming he’s not a complete wreck. I hope it’s not affected him too badly.”

“Dove… he’s going to be very different to what we remember,” Ominis replied, resting a hand on her shoulder as she folded her clothes. “He won’t be the Sebastian we knew.”

“I know,” she raised her hand to his, smiling as he looped his other arm around her belly and held her tight. She tilted her head back to rest against his shoulder as he brushed a kiss over her cheek. “I hope he’s forgiven us for not doing more sooner.”

“He’ll have forgiven you,” Ominis said. “He always had a soft spot for you. I rather expect, even after all this time, that he’s still in love with you.”

Dracaena kept her silence. She and Ominis had naturally fallen together towards the end of their sixth year of Hogwarts, their shared experiences and pain leading them to comfort one another, she taking Sebastian and Anne’s place as Ominis’ refuge from his family, moving in together once they’d left the school. In a small way, she was surprised it had taken him as long as it had to propose, presenting her with an elegant ring of emerald and diamond set in white gold six months ago. She’d accepted gladly, though a tiny part of her mourned what that meant for Sebastian.

She loved Ominis with all her heart and more. She adored his gentleness, his respect, his kindness and consideration. She admired his steel, the restrained fury with which he dealt with their enemies, both inside and outside of work, his searing wit and boundless intelligence. She relished his talent as a wizard, and fell in love with him over and over again with each morning they woke beside each other, still spent from their passions, safe in each other’s arms.

But she still loved Sebastian.

Ominis tightened his arm around her.

“It’s alright,” he whispered. “I know how you felt about him. I know how you feel. If things hadn’t ended the way they did, I would have expected the pair of you to be married by now.” He brushed a hand over her hair. “Dracaena… he’s my best friend. I want him to stay with us. We have the room, and he’d be safer than if he was just left to try and survive by himself after all he will have been through. I know you and him well enough to know you’re drawn to each other.”

“But I’m yours,” she whispered, moving his hand to brush over her ring. “Remember?”

He shrugged. “I know. I trust you. I know that if you said nothing would happen between you, I would believe you because it would be true. But you’d be unhappy. You both would. I know you’re not going to leave me for him, Dracaena, but I know you also make each other happy. He’s going to need all the love and support he can get once he’s out. I’d hope that you can give that to him.”

She tilted her head. “Ominis… are you giving me permission to… play away with your best friend?”

He chuckled. “Don’t cheapen it,” his elegant fingers found her cheek, tilting her head so he could kiss her full. “I’m telling you that if you two happen to come together again, I support it. Didn’t you once tell me you’d have liked it if you could have had us both?”

“I was drunk!” she protested, giggling as he dug his fingers into her ribs, ticking her gently. “You can’t use that against me!”

“I can and will,” he laughed, holding her tight. “I mean it, Dracaena. I don’t mind at all, so long as it’s only him. He’s my brother as far as I’m concerned, and I trust you both.”

“You might regret it,” Dracaena warned.

“If I do, we’ll talk about it, and find a way to resolve it,” he said, releasing her at last. “Go on now, you need to get to the dock. Send me an owl once he’s settled.”

“I will.”

He brushed a hand over her cheek. “See you in a week. I love you.”

“Love you too.”

_.-~*~-._

The sky was a stormy grey, and the waves below were similarly sullen. They crashed against the side of the boat, sending salty sprays onto the deck as if it was their mission to knock the vessel off course.

Dracaena sat between two stern faced Aurors, her hands folded in her lap. She’d left her bag at the halfway house, a modest, three-roomed bungalow surrounded by similar buildings, grey bricked and dour looking. She had perched on one of the rickety chairs by the small, circular dining table as one of the Aurors explained to her that Sebastian would be under careful watch for the first year following his release, and any missteps would see him sent right back to Azkaban.

She’d only half listened as he went over an itemised list for what she should do during her week’s stay at the halfway house, pinning a sheet of parchment to the wall with the details. She was only to feed him small meals, as he wouldn’t be able to stomach anything more. Nothing rich, nothing too fatty, and no alcohol. She’d frowned, asking why.

“Because the prisoners don’t tend to eat,” he’d said, gruffly. “The dementors have to force them in order to keep them alive.”

She’d shivered then, and she shivered now, remembering. They weren’t allowed to leave the halfway house, except for at specific times each day to walk around the complex for ten minutes at a time, to build up his strength. She had to write a detailed report at the end of each day to give to the Aurors, describing their conversations and activities. She was sternly warned that if she didn’t, there would be Trouble. Said Trouble was left unspecified, and she didn’t have the heart to ask.

Dracaena shifted, watching as something huge, angular and black began to rise from the waves, impossibly tall, impossibly wide, made entirely of stone. Only a few small windows lay in the surface, like knife wounds in flesh. Her hands tightened in her lap as dread began to seep under her skin, a visceral fear prickling over her neck and shoulders. She was only going to be there for a short time, to bring her best friend home. She couldn’t imagine how Sebastian would have felt, seeing that pillar of misery approach, believing he would never leave.

She loosed a soft breath, eyeing the distant, tattered black shapes swooping around outside it. He would leave. He would leave with her, and everything would be alright.

The boat approached a yawning cavern at the base of the prison, the Aurors casting a Patronus each, a mouse and a raven. There was a dock in the cavern, the blackness chased away by sparsely placed sconces in the damp, glistening walls. Standing there waiting was a hunched little man, balding on top with buck teeth and a sickly smile. He had a Patronus as well, something that looked like a cross between an ailing puppy and a wall-eyed rat.

Dracaena stepped off the boat, shivering, the feeling of dread still creeping under her clothes and caressing her skin. She set her jaw, drew her wand, and cast a Patronus of her own.

An elegant panther touched its paws to the stone, gazing around imperiously as the Aurors and the little man raised their brows, the dread vanishing from her chest as if it had never been. From the shadows around the walls, several rattling voices gurgled and hissed, as if angry.

“Where is he?” she demanded.

“Cell 506,” the little man said, rubbing his hands together with a grin that seemed entirely too cheerful for such a place. “Follow me, my dear.”

The patronuses cast silvery blue light on the walls as they ascended a surprisingly wide staircase, their footsteps echoing. Reaching the first floor, the little man produced a set of keys and unlocked a heavy, barred door.

“No need for magic here,” he cackled. “No one’s got their wands, have they?”

They strode into a cell block, and Dracaena recoiled. The scent of filth was overwhelming, but it was the sounds that chilled her. Her Patronus flickered, moving to stand beside her as desperate sobs filled her ears, tortured cries and garbled, gibbering wails singing in a hellish harmony that echoed off the walls.

The sounds died down as the little man and the Aurors encouraged her on, and though she tried to face forward, to ignore the figures in the cells, she couldn’t help but notice how they scrambled towards the bars, their bony, wasted hands reaching through, stretching for the patronuses as the tattered shadows of the dementors fled their presence. The screams began again as they passed, somehow more agonised than before.

They repeated this four more times, ascending rapidly narrowing staircases and emerging into a new cell block, climbing higher and higher, taunting the prisoners with the promise of relief from their misery in their passing. With each step, Dracaena’s heart beat just a little faster, her grip on her wand increasing, the hackles on her panther Patronus rising as she bared her teeth.

By the time they reached the fifth floor, her palms were sweating. How different would he be? Would the Sebastian she knew and loved still be there, somewhere? Would his eyes still sparkle with the mischief he was so adept at making, at once sliding into fury when he was challenged, and softening whenever he looked at her? She knew he’d be different. He’d look different. He’d act different. But she had to believe he was still there.

No matter her provisions, in the following years, Dracaena didn’t think there was anything on earth that could have prepared her for what she saw when she finally reached Sebastian’s cell.

Unlike so many of the other prisoners, he wasn’t screaming or crying, and he didn’t rush to the bars to feel the passing warmth of the patronuses. He huddled by the wall, next to a narrow mattress and ratty blanket laid directly on the floor. His hair was halfway down to his elbows, thick and matted, almost black with grime. He was dressed as they all were, in a filthy pair of striped trousers and shirt, and they hung loose on his frame. His head was on his arms, resting on his knees, drawn to his chest. The hand she could see was almost skeletal, every inch of boyish puppy fat stripped from his body. His nails were bitten to the quick and filthy, as were his bare feet.

Dracaena raised a hand to the bars, her heart shattering as she took him in, watching as he shivered.

“See, he’s one of the tough ones,” the little man said, with a chuckle. “Just keeps to himself, terribly well behaved. Shame to see him go, really.”

Dracaena tightened her grip on her wand to the point she thought it might snap. She turned to the little man, letting her expression say everything she dared not voice, for if she opened her mouth, she would likely find herself in a cell of her own. The little man seemed to understand, because his sick grin slipped, and he hurried to unlock the cell door. She barged him out the way before he’d even pulled the key from the lock, striding inside and falling to her knees before the broken man she had loved.

“Sebastian?” she whispered, her Patronus sitting in front of the door and glowering. He didn’t move. “Sebastian, it’s time to go.”

He stirred, his fingers tightening on his sleeve. She reached out, brushing a hand over his arm, and he flinched.

“Bassy,” she whispered, the pet name she’d given him both foreign and familiar on her tongue. He tensed, finally raising his head. His chocolate eyes, once so full of life, were dull and defeated above hollow cheeks and a beard that reached his collar. Even so he was familiar to her, the rampant freckles scattering his skin like constellations a siren call to their bond. He blinked, focusing, and didn’t say a word.

“Bassy, it’s time to go,” she said again, cupping his cheek, sliding her thumb over the protruding bone, her fingers winding into the thatch of hair at the back of his neck. He flinched away again, his expression becoming fearful, his eyes darting around the cell.

“Happens sometimes,” the little man said sullenly from beyond the bars. “They forget who they are. Forget who they knew. He’s not said a word in five years, so don’t expect him to. He probably thinks this is some kind of joke.”

She shot another glare that could melt steel through the bars, then shifted her position, grasping Sebastian by the arms and standing, heaving him to his feet.

He came up with almost no resistance, and she staggered, almost flinging him into the air, horrified by how light he was. He made a small sound of muted alarm as he left the floor.

“I’m sorry,” she said, relaxing her grip. She grabbed for him again when he slumped, his legs refusing to support his weight. She glanced through the bars again as the Aurors stirred.

“We’ll have to drag him,” one said. “Prisoners sometimes forget how to walk, or they just don’t have the will.”

“You’re not dragging anybody,” she spat. She looped an arm around Sebastian’s back, bending to catch his legs, lifting him in her arms like a child. He tensed, then slumped, his head lolling against her shoulder. He was so light, so alarmingly fragile, as if he was made of parchment, ready to tear apart at the slightest movement. Her heart broke again, and her Patronus flickered as she cradled him. Without another word, she marched from the cell, heading for the doors, the other prisoners gibbering as she passed, begging her to take them too, to leave her Patronus, to kill them. She paid them no mind, focusing on holding Sebastian tight to her chest, his feet swinging, his breath rushing over her neck. His hands were folded on his stomach, and one of them slid to her, pinching the fabric of her cloak, then holding gently.

She held him all the way to the dock, refusing to release her grip as she settled back on the boat. She raised a hand to his hair, gently running over the back of his head. It left streaks of grime on her fingers, but she didn’t care. A deep, boiling anger simmered in her chest. Anger for what he’d been put through. Anger that anyone was forced to endure such a hellish place. But mostly, she was furious with herself for allowing this to happen, furious with Ominis for knowing what Azkaban was like, and letting him be taken anyway, the word of some unknown person sealing his fate.

It didn’t matter that they’d spent the next six years trying to find a way to free him. The damage had been done. She felt it in his trembling breath, in the way he held onto her cloak so gently, knowing in her bones that it was the tightest grip he could muster. She wrapped her arms around him more securely, resting her cheek against his forehead, whispering soft words of comfort as her collar grew sodden with his silent tears.

_.-~*~-._

Dracaena carried Sebastian over the threshold of the halfway house in much the same way a groom carries his bride. She wasn’t blind to the imagery, and wondered if Ominis would do the same to her once they were married. Would he be able to navigate if his hands were full of her body and not his wand? Probably. He was astonishingly capable, to the point she often wondered if his blindness really was total, like he said. Perhaps he had some Seer blood in him that aided him. It would certainly go a long way to explain how he always seemed to know everything, even things he shouldn’t know.

She kicked the door shut in the faces of the Aurors that had accompanied them.

She eyed the living room of the halfway house, the low sofa facing the kitchenette and dining table. Through one of the doors was a little bedroom, and through the other was a tiny, cramped bathroom. It was towards this that she headed, conjuring a low seat, in which she deposited Sebastian. He was unresponsive as she stood back with a light sigh, gazing down at him and eyeing the stains left on her robes.

She pulled off her cloak and overrobes, standing before him in a simple pair of trousers and vest top, tossing her robes through the still open door, before kneeling down in front of him.

“First order of business,” she said, softly. “We’re here for a week, Bassy. We’ve got a to-do list, but I’ll take care of it as best I can. I’ll need your help, though. Can you do that for me?”

His throat worked a moment, then he gave a tiny, barely perceptible nod. Dracaena loosed a soft breath. At least he was listening to her.

“I think you’d feel a lot better after a shower,” she said, keeping her tone low and soothing. “Would you like that?”

Another miniscule nod.

“Can you take care of that, or would you like some help?”

No response to that. She tilted her head, waiting, her hands on his knees, until he glanced at her, his eyes lighting on hers and flicking away again like a moth fluttering about a lantern. They were still dull and hollow, curtained by the matted strands of his hair. She reached up and brushed a hand over it.

“I think we need to give you a haircut,” she said. “I can’t think of a single brush that can save it, I’m afraid, it's too tangled. Can I cut your hair for you? And maybe this?” she ran her hand over the wild beard. “Much as I think a beard suits you, it could do with a trim, don’t you think?”

A tiny nod, ever so slightly more vigorous than the last. She smiled, and reached behind her, fumbling in the cabinet for scissors.

“I’ll save what I can,” she said, taking a ropey strand of his hair between her fingers. “I can’t imagine you’d enjoy being bald.”

A miniscule exhalation. She tilted her head.

“Was that a laugh, darling?”

He didn’t answer, but leaned forward, resting his head on her shoulder. She set the scissors aside a moment and wrapped her arms around his back, alarmed to feel the bones of his spine poking through his skin. She held him gently until his arms rose, gripping the back of her top with a featherlight touch. He shivered, his breath trembling on the exhale. She held him tighter, pressing her cheek to his.

“It’s alright,” she murmured, circling her hand over his back. “You’re safe, Bassy. You’re out. You’re not going back there, okay? Once we’ve done what we have to here, you’re going to come and live with me and Ominis. We’ll look after you.”

She felt his jaw clench a moment, then he sat back, meeting her eyes properly for the first time. He held her gaze a long moment, before it dropped to her hands, resting on his knees again. He touched her ring, his skeletal fingers brushing over the emeralds and diamonds. He sighed, seemingly caving in on himself.

“Congratulations,” he said, his voice so quiet she could barely hear it over the rasp of his throat.

She could have cried, then. God only knew what he’d been thinking when he was trapped in that cell. Had he been hoping she’d come for him? That she’d have waited for him? Had he tortured himself with thoughts of other people getting close to her, loving her? Had he known on some level that she and Ominis would end up together, engaged, and soon to be married? Had he loved her as she loved him once, and wished it was he that slid the ring onto her finger?

What would he think if she told him of Ominis’ offer?

“Thank you,” she said. Best not to overload him. She should have taken her ring off, but it was too late for that now. She raised a hand to his hair again. “I… I’ll be honest, I’ve never done this before. It won’t be a brilliant job, but it’ll help.”

He gave another miniscule nod, and closed his eyes. She gazed at him a while longer, then picked up the scissors, sliding them through the matted tangle of his hair before closing them with a decisive snick.

_.-~*~-._

Shorn of his beard and most of his hair, Sebastian was beginning to look a little more like himself, though his face was terribly gaunt, his cheeks hollow, the sharp lines of his jaw standing out above his brittle neck. Dracaena vanished the pile of hair with a flick of her wand, then reached over to the bathtub, turning on the shower and holding her hand in the stream until it warmed to a comfortable temperature.

“Shall I leave you to it?” she asked. “I can give you some privacy.”

He didn’t answer, his hollow gaze turned inward, slumping slightly in his chair. She took his chin and tilted his face to hers, waiting until his eyes focused. “Bassy, do you want me to help?”

He blinked, slowly, his gaze turning distant again. With a light sigh, Dracaena lowered her fingers to the buttons of his shirt, slowly prying them open, one by one. At each, she paused, looking at him until he gave a tiny nod. She withheld a wince with some difficulty as she gently pulled it from his shoulders, able to see each rib through his skin, streaked with grime. Her heart broke a third time.

“Can you stand?” she asked, gently. “We should get these off too.” She touched the leg of his trousers. He didn’t answer, so she tucked her hands under his arms and rose, bringing him with her. He leaned against her, his arms rising to clutch at her back again as she nimbly undid the drawstring. The clothing crumpled straight to the floor, far too large for his frame. She averted her eyes, helping him step under the stream of warm water, lowering him to sit, and he drew his knees to his chest.

How many times in her fifth year had she wondered what he’d look like under his robes? Countless times, lying awake at night, or daydreaming in class. Now he was here it felt somehow wrong, like a violation to take the opportunity to drink in his form when he was so vulnerable. So she didn’t look, focusing on his face as his short hair plastered to his scalp, the water turning black as it streamed over his skin. She pressed a washcloth into his hands, and he held it, but made no further move.

“Come on darling,” she murmured. “Help me out a little bit?”

No response. With a soft smile, she picked up another washcloth and slid it over his back, applying light pressure to the more stubborn patches of dirt. Sebastian closed his eyes, resting his head on his crossed arms as she soaped his back, his grip on his own cloth tightening a little. And even though she resisted, scolding herself silently, Dracaena couldn’t help but look at him properly. Under the steadily vanishing grime, his back and shoulders were as freckled as his face, fading the further her eyes travelled down his spine and arms. He was a lot paler than she remembered, but then he’d gone from an outdoorsy, adventurous nerd to a prisoner in a cell, not a speck of natural light to be found. She’d have to make sure there was a decent spot in the garden for him to relax, once they were all home.

She nibbled her lip, glancing at his slender thighs, once thick. No freckles there. A few on his calves, none on his feet. She wrenched her gaze away before it strayed any further, and she slipped a hand under his chin, tilting his head back so she could get to his hair. He closed his eyes with a tiny sigh as she rubbed suds through the thick strands, massaging his scalp gently until she was sure every speck of dirt was gone. She pressed a hand to his collarbone.

“Sit up straight, darling,” she whispered. “I need to get to your chest.”

He acquiesced, leaning back until he overbalanced. Dracaena caught him with a startled yelp, an arm around his back, spluttering a little as her head and shoulders entered the shower stream. His legs stretched out as he slumped against her arm, his head turning to her shoulder, his eyes still closed. She caught her breath, blinking water out of her eyes.

“You alright?”

A tiny nod.

She took a breath, and keeping her gaze firmly fixed above his waistline, she moved the cloth over his torso, trying not to admire the fine hair dusting his chest, focusing on removing every speck of dirt she could see. She took her time, because at some point, she was going to have to try to convince him, again, to help himself. There was only so far she could reasonably go when he was so out of it, despite what Ominis had said.

It wasn’t that she didn’t want to look, or to touch… to taste. It wasn’t that she had any problems in taking care of Sebastian in whatever way he needed. It was that he was fresh out of Azkaban, barely four hours free, still confused and addled and traumatised and broken, and she couldn’t assume that he would want anything to do with her at all.

It was still difficult. She shifted, her arm around his back, propping him up as she gripped his shoulder, his head resting against hers, flipping her sodden hair out of her face, her top already soaked. She circled the cloth over his chest a final time, sliding it over his nipple, and he groaned.

The sound was so soft that she thought for a moment she’d imagined it. She paused, swallowed, and repeated the movement. He sighed, tucking his head more firmly against her shoulder, and out of the corner of her eye, she caught a stirring.

Dracaena closed her eyes, willing herself to cool the heat rising from under her collar. She was his friend, that was all, helping him after a terrible ordeal. She couldn’t possibly take advantage of him, not now, not when he was vulnerable and needed her to help him. He wasn’t in his right mind. She had to be strong for them both. In time, perhaps she could, but…

She steeled herself and returned to the job at hand, sliding a bar of soap over his stomach and following it with the cloth. The water ran clear over his body, though it still pooled brown and grimy by his feet and legs, and-

She wrenched her eyes back up, glaring at the pale tiles of the bathroom wall.

“You going to give me a hand?” she asked. “I’m getting soaked.”

Again, no response. He slumped against her, his breathing perhaps a little quicker than before. Hardening herself, Dracaena took the washcloth to his thighs, scrubbing perhaps a little firmer than she had before, tucking a hand under his knee to bring his leg closer so she could still support him. Her back was beginning to ache, bent over the bath as she was, but she ignored the dull fire spreading under her shoulder blades, focusing on her task. All the same, she couldn’t help but notice how he shifted, widening his legs with another soft sigh, his hand sliding over her back to grip at her shoulder as she worked. She slid the cloth over the inside of his thigh, and a soft, almost strangled whimper passed his lips as he tilted towards her.

Dracaena had endured many trials in her life. Stopping a goblin rebellion, defeating a power-crazed, dragon-transformed lunatic set on killing her, as well as countless attacks from poachers and Ashwinders, defeating a powerful Dark Wizard in single combat and more. So much more. Still, if anyone had asked her in the later years what she found the most difficult trial of all, she would have said in a heartbeat that ignoring Sebastian’s throbbing erection as she washed him was among the top three.

She did steal a glance or five. She was only human, after all. And by God, he was beautiful. Not quite as long as Ominis, but thicker, a darker shade, the lush pink of Ominis’ love more a light burgundy with Sebastian, and the way he rested against his stomach, his toes curling as the shower stream rushed over him was more intoxicating than heroin. There was nothing more that she wanted than to wrap her hand around his length and draw him to the edge of bliss, to let him revel in the delights so long denied him, to hear him moan and whimper her name…

Again, Ominis’ assurances that he was not only fine with her playing away with Sebastian, but that he expected it ran through her mind. She loosed a soft breath as she moved the washcloth to his hips, his grip increasing on her arm as his breathing rushed past her ear. She set her jaw.

She couldn’t.

“I need to get some things ready,” she said, firmly. “Finish up, Bassy, I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

She waited until his grip on her arm loosened, helping him sit upright. It pained her to leave him alone, huddled and defenceless as she strode for the door, wringing water from her hair and drying it with a wave of her wand. But she had to. God and Merlin only knew what she would have done otherwise. He was too fresh, too vulnerable. How could she take advantage of him like that? How could she even think it?

Biting her lip, she settled at the small table and drew parchment and quill towards her, penning a short note.

My darling Ominis,

Sebastian is with me in the halfway house, and all things considered, he’s as well as he can be. I don’t want to alarm you, but he’s lost a lot of weight and isn’t very responsive, and I expect it will take some time before he’s better. You were right, he’s not as we remember, but I feel the old Sebastian is still there, somewhere.

I miss you. I love you. I can’t wait to be home with you.

Dracaena.

She wanted to add another line, clarifying that Ominis had meant what he said, hoping he would change his mind, for if he demanded she remain solely his it would be easier to deny the stirrings she felt for Sebastian. But he wouldn’t deny her, he wouldn’t refuse. He’d almost been insistent.

She sealed the letter instead, opening the door and beckoning the owl perched nearby. It took the note in its beak and flew off, soon lost amongst the clouds. She took a breath, noting the dark figures leaning against the walls of the surrounding buildings, the curtains twitching in windows. She made a face and retreated back inside. Christ, with the number of Aurors surrounding them, it was almost like Sebastian was a mass-murdering lunatic, not a broken man who had paid a price far dearer than the death of his horrible uncle warranted.

She tilted her head as the sounds of running water from the bathroom shut off. She waited as a shadow moved beyond the open door. It seemed that Sebastian could get about by himself if he needed to. That was good. She moved to the kitchenette, opening the cupboards and grimacing. Simple foods like porridge oats, rounds of dark bread and rice nestled beside tins of nondescript meat and vegetables huddled on the shelves. Dull fare for certain, and she wished she could use her Ancient Magic to conjure something more palatable, but it didn’t work that way. Sebastian had always been fond of sweet things, and there wasn’t a gram of sugar to be found.

She pulled a few items down and set about making a simple meal of white fish and rice with a side of green beans, careful not to make too much. He’d need time to adjust to eating real food again, and she had no idea what he’d been forced to eat behind bars.

Dracaena turned at a slight noise to find Sebastian standing in the doorway of the bathroom, leaning heavily against the frame, a towel around his waist. He gave her the beginnings of a tired, shy smile, only the corners of his mouth twitching. She left the saucepan and rushed to him.

“There’s clothes in the bedroom,” she said, leading him, an arm around his waist as he slumped against her. “We’ll have some dinner and get you settled for the night, yeah?”

He nodded, a firmer, more decisive action than before. Depositing him on the bed, which creaked, she ferreted around in the old wardrobe, bringing out a selection of shirts and trousers.

“Any preference, or are you not fussy?”

He blinked slowly, his eyes on her, seemingly indifferent about the clothes in her hands. With a shrug, she picked out a dark shirt and pair of trousers, leaving them on the bed.

“I’ll leave you to it, darling, if you need-”

His hand found hers, and she paused, turning to him, finding the corners of his eyes glimmering.

His lips parted, his throat working a moment before his voice found its way out, hushed and rasping.

“This… is real? You’re… really here?”

She knelt before him, taking both his hands in hers.

“Of course it’s real,” she whispered. “Bassy… Ominis and I have spent the last six years trying to find a way to free you. You didn’t deserve what happened to you, you didn’t deserve Azkaban. You’re coming home with us, and you’ll never go back, alright?”

He nodded again, a tiny smile touching his lips.

“You… got me out?”

“I’m sorry it took so long,” she said. “We had to bully a lot of people, rewrite some laws, and build a case. It took ages, Bassy, but we never gave up. We just wanted you home with us.”

“And…” he drew a breath, as if the act of speaking fatigued him beyond all reason. “Anne?”

Dracaena hesitated. She knew this would come up, but she’d hoped it wouldn’t be so soon. The reason for his fighting, the reason for his research, the reason for his mistake. How could she tell him that the curse that plagued his sister had taken her life three years ago?

It would break him. Destroy him in ways that Azkaban never could.

“Time enough for that later,” she said, forcing a smile onto her face. “What’s important right now is getting you back on your feet, alright?”

It was a poor answer, and she knew it. Sebastian had never been one to let things lie, least of all something as important as his twin, whom she had buried with Ominis on a beautiful hill overlooking Feldcroft on a blossom-strewn spring morning, the pair of them shedding silent tears not just for the senseless loss of life, but because it meant everything Sebastian had sacrificed had been for nothing. But Sebastian didn’t question her further, merely nodding again and releasing her hands, reaching for the clothes.

Dracaena returned to the kitchen in time to put out a small fire that had started in the pan. She swore and pulled out another tin of white fish, vanishing the blackened mess with a wave of her wand.

Sebastian joined her at the small table not long after, clinging to the walls and countertops to support himself until she hurried over, pulling his arm over her shoulders. Though his first mouthful of food was hesitant, he soon fell upon it like a man starved, going so far as to toss his fork aside and eat with his hands. Once he was done, he held himself still, staring at his plate before the hollowness returned to his eyes, and he withdrew into himself, drawing his knees to his chest and wrapping his arms around them, staring at nothing as Dracaena pushed her plate aside, her appetite quite gone.

“You should sleep,” she said, softly. She rose and took his hand, drawing him to his feet and tucking an arm around his waist, leading him to the bedroom. She sat him down, helping him unbutton his shirt, pausing as she reached the hilt of his trousers.

“There’s… there’s pyjamas and things in the wardrobe,” she said. “I can get them for you?”

Sebastian didn’t answer, his eyes dragging with tiredness, but his hand snared hers as she rose.

“Stay?” he rasped. “Please?”

It took every ounce of her self-control to refuse.

“You’ll be alright,” she said. “You’re safe here, Bassy.”

His throat worked a moment, and he nodded, his hand sliding from her grip. Dracaena returned to the living room, setting the dinner things to wash and settling down on the sofa, conjuring a blanket and removing her clothes, lying down in just her underthings.

Ominis was on her mind as she settled to sleep, wishing he was here with her. She longed to feel his elegant arms around her, to reassure her, to comfort her as she wept silently for all the pain their dearest friend had endured.

_.-~*~-._

Dracaena work to darkness and agonised, desperate screams.

She bolted from the sofa, her heart in her throat as she tore towards the sound, her mind conjuring horrors beyond mortal imagining as she burst into the bedroom. Sebastian was huddled in a corner, his arms splayed against the walls, his knees drawn to his chest, his eyes wild as he tried to press himself through the brick and plaster, cowering away from something she couldn’t see.

“Sebastian!” she dashed over, grabbing for his shoulders, and he lashed out, howling, the side of his hand connecting with her temple, and she saw stars. Shaking herself, she grabbed for him again as he fought against her, yelling wordlessly. “Sebastian, it’s me! It’s alright! Calm down, please!”

He pushed back against the wall, soft, keening sounds wrenching from his throat, his eyes unseeing as she wrapped her arms around him, gasping comforting words into his ear. Eventually, his arms rose to encircle her, burying his face in her shoulder and weeping helplessly.

“It’s alright…” she murmured. “It’s alright, darling. There’s nothing here that can hurt you. You’re safe.”

Sebastian just cried, clinging to her as she settled on his thighs, wishing she could hold him tighter, wishing she had more arms to wrap around him, to hold him more securely than she could, her hand circling over his back, the other wound into his hair as he sobbed into her shoulder.

“It was just a nightmare, darling,” she murmured. “That’s all. Nothing more. You’re alright.”

It took a long time before Sebastian was able to calm down, his frightened sobs becoming whimpers, quietening to harsh breaths as he grasped at her back, shivering so hard she thought he could power a small house.

“What was it?” Dracaena asked, leaning back a little and cupping his face. “Darling, what did you see?”

He shook his head, his face tear-stained, pulling her back to him and resting his head against her shoulder again.

“I-I’m… sorry,” he managed.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for,” she assured him. “Bassy, I’ve no idea what you’ve been through, but I’m here to help you. Tell me what you need.”

“Stay… with me,” he whimpered, holding her as tight as he could, though the strength of his arms was little more than strands of silk. “Please, Drac… Don’t leave me alone.”

With a muted nod, she tucked her hands under his arms again, levering him upright and guiding him to the bed, laying him down and tucking him in, before settling atop the covers. Sebastian turned over, his arm looping over her side.

“Will… you be… warm enough?” he whispered.

“I’ll be fine,” she assured him. “Get some rest, love, I’ll be right here.”

“Come under,” he insisted, snuggling closer to her. “Please, Drac. I… I haven’t touched… another person in… years. I… I-I need to be close… to you.”

She hesitated, and Sebastian huddled up to her, his hands tight at her back, his skin fire against hers.

“Drac… I-I’m sorry, I-I know you’re… with Ominis, I don’t want… to upset you… or spoil that. I-I just need… to be close to you… please. I don’t want to be alone.”

Setting her jaw, Dracaena slid under the covers, wrapping her arms around him as he snuggled into her, his head against her collarbone, his body pressed to hers, almost as though he needed to become a part of her, to meld his flesh with hers, the pads of his fingers digging into her back.

She held him tight as he shivered, wishing she could take the pain he suffered and draw it into herself to shield him from the horrors he had endured. But she couldn’t. She could only lie there, holding him, stroking his hair as he pressed his face between her breasts, his skeletal frame wracked with shudders as guilt seared through every fibre of her being. She pulled him closer, and he groaned softly.

Dracaena couldn’t ignore the hardness that pressed against her, as much as she wanted to. Despite Ominis’ assurances, she needed to be strong, to show him she cared for Sebastian as more than just a vessel for carnal pleasure. She didn’t need that. As she was with Ominis, her own bliss mattered less than that of her partner, her delight being in when she brought him to the edge of paradise and sent him over, soaring on clouds of ecstasy. Would it be so wrong to gift the same to Sebastian, when her fiancée had condoned it?

Sebastian groaned softly, the tip of his erection nudging against the soft flesh of her abdomen, straining against his pyjamas. He nuzzled against her breasts, only the thin lace separating their skin. Dracaena drew a soft breath. No matter her concerns, perhaps this was what he needed. Had she not vowed to care for him, no matter what he needed? Her hand slid over his side, over the ridges of his ribs, gliding over the hollow between them and his hip, coming to rest on the sharp protrusion of bone. Sebastian whimpered softly, tilting his body towards her hand.

“Are you sure?” she breathed. “Is this what you want?”

“Yes…” he whispered, the word ragged, forged from a throat too unused to speaking. “Please…”

Still she hesitated, preferring to caress his body, worried that it would be too much for him, worried that no matter his assurances, Ominis would be hurt if she allowed herself to indulge, but Sebastian clung to her, the little strength he had poured into pulling her closer.

“Drac…” he whined softly, writhing against her as her hand sculpted over his chest and stomach. “Please, Drac… please, make me feel human again. Please, please touch me… please… I’ll do anything… I just… I need to feel alive again.”

And hell, she’d be lying if she said she didn’t want to make him feel good after everything he’d been through. She cupped his cheek, turning his face to hers, pressing her lips to his with a softness akin to featherdown and satin. But he responded with fire and fury, his hand clamping against the back of her head, pressing her close as his lips worked magic over hers, scattering the last of her restraint as she wrenched him to her.

His breath came in sharp gasps as she pushed his clothing aside, her hand dipping down to caress the length of him. He tensed, a low moan rising from his throat as she graced her hand along him, before his grip at her back tightened, and he flexed his hips, thrusting into her palm, each movement accompanied by a gasp.

“Please,” he whimpered. “Make me feel good, make me feel right… make me feel real, Drac, please.”

Dracaena sealed her lips to his, drawing his breath into her and sending it back as heaven and light, her hand gliding along his throbbing length, her movements careful and controlled. Sebastian loosed a long, deep moan that seemed to rise from the bottom of his lungs, as if such a sound had been too long caged and finally set free. He sank back to the pillows, his limited strength seemingly spent, his eyes rolling back as his lashes fluttered, and she favoured him with kisses that peppered his face and chased over his neck, pausing only at his chest to swipe her tongue over his nipple. Sebastian groaned, his head rolling from side to side, one hand at her shoulder, the slight pressure increasing as she kissed down his taut stomach.

She could take him any way she wanted. She could pin him down and ravage him until he forgot his own name, she could bend him backward and bury his delicious cock in her throat, she could even turn him over and work a magic inside him that she was certain too few wizards had ever had the fortune to experience. But Dracaena bore down on her desires. Too much could break him. There would be months, years, perhaps, in which she could show him all the wonders she had learned since being with Ominis. She could show Ominis what she learned from Sebastian. She could learn from them both, together, but only if she treated them right.

Sebastian moaned like a starved whore when she flicked her tongue over the flushed head of his cock, his head pressing back into the pillows, his free hand grasping a fistful of the sheets as she slowly kissed along his length. She tucked a hand under his hips as she nuzzled the inside of his thighs, taking a moment to savour the desperate sounds pushed up from the depths of his being, the hand at her shoulder moving to the back of her head, his grip weak but insistent.

She couldn’t deny him any longer. Dracaena flattened her tongue against him and drew it slowly to the tip, already weeping with slick, crystal fluid, his ribs expanding and contracting with each rapid, short breath, his stomach hollowing as his hips bucked towards her. Her free hand found his, and she laced their fingers together as she took him into her mouth at last.

Seven years of longing couldn’t have prepared her for the feel of him against her lips, sliding over her tongue, invading her throat, the deliciousness of his fevered skin, the subtle, peppered tang of his love so similar and yet so different to the gentle salt and sugar of her Ominis. Sebastian’s back arched, his legs falling apart, his hand winding into her hair as his grip on her hand trembled, his thighs beginning to quiver as she flicked her tongue over the underside of his head, so sensitive after so many years of neglect, his voice a wordless song of ecstasy. She sealed her lips and drew them along his shaft, rewarded by a series of frantic moans that rose in fever and pitch. She wanted to pull back, to slow down, to make him wait, the dominant side of her fighting for control, but even she was not that cruel. Instead she bobbed her head faster and faster, lashing her tongue against him until he all but screamed, his hips rising from the bed as his back arched in a curve Fibonacci would be envious of, the beautiful, creamy thickness of his passion coating the cavern of her mouth.

Dracaena drained him of every drop as if her life depended on it, relishing the way he quivered and whined, his body tensing and relaxing with each new flick of her tongue until she raised her head at last, his pale, freckled skin flushed a gorgeous rose, an arm draped across his forehead. She slid up his body to lie beside him, brushing his hair back and wrapping her arms around him as he curled into her, panting.

“You okay?” she breathed, and he huffed a breathless laugh.

“If… if I’d have known… if I had to go… to Azkaban for that…” he nuzzled into her. “I’d have… gone… long ago.”

Dracaena chuckled softly, winding her hand through his hair as he relaxed against her.

“Drac,” he murmured. “I… should have… told you. Back then… I should have said…”

“Shh,” she whispered. “You need to sleep, love.”

“I know,” he replied, already drifting. “But… I should have said… I love you, Drac. I… I always have.”

She held him close.

“I love you too,” she breathed as he slipped into sleep. “Forever and always, I love you.”

Masterlist

Part 2

#hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow #mc x sebastian sallow #sebastian smut #sebastian sallow smut #post azkaban sebastian #subastian

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reimeichan · 1 month

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I'm a little. Biologically, I'm in my late 20s. And... I had the realization hit me last night that even though I'm a little and feel like I'm still a child, with all my childish wants and needs and fears and stuff, it doesn't change the fact that I've lived through 20-something years of my life. I have adult responsibilities and adult experiences and adult memories.

But more than that, I can't go back to being a child anymore.

My past, my childhood, I can't change any of that. The pain and traumas are real, the memories I have still haunting me. And even the moments of nostalgia I have, when I reminisce on my past... well, that's all they can be anymore. They're not my present.

And in spite of all this history I have inside of me, I still feel like a kid who didn't get the love and affection I needed. I feel stuck in time, but time always keeps marching forward even if I don't. The grass grows and the meat rots and the rocks weather. I can honor these feelings of being a kid, and give myself the things I didn't get back then. But... I'm still an adult. And I think it's also important for me to acknowledge that.

Integration is so hard. I've fused and gotten closer to so many of the other littles that now we're all sharing those moments from our childhood: happy times and sad times and even just times that existed. But I'm also closer to the adult parts, and with that comes... I dunno. I guess I'm less dissociated from my current reality and I'm more grounded now. And it feels so scary and confusing trying to navigate this new reality that I'm not used to. But I know I have people around me who can help me, from my friends and partners to the other parts of me I share a life with. It'll be okay, I think.

But for now I'm gonna mourn my past.

#did #dissociative identity disorder #actually did #actuallydid #did osdd #osddid #cdd #did little #trauma #trauma processing #by azure #with a little bit of help from gray and green

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yuujispinkhair · 8 months

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Separation Anxiety (Chapter 09)

Put your lips on my scars and teach me to love

When a ritual separates Sukuna from Yuuji, Sukuna is delighted to find that besides having his own body, there is also another gift handed to him: The brat has lost all his memories and is now the perfect little plaything to take home and manipulate. At least, that's the plan. But the King of Curses isn't prepared for the feelings that come along with being human again. And another complication is how cute the brat is when he has no idea who Sukuna is and, instead of hating him, treats him with genuine love and affection. So, without realizing it, Sukuna suddenly finds himself on a journey of learning how to be loved and how to love.

++ Masterpost ++

Pairing: Sukuna x Yuuji Genre: Memory Loss AU, fluff, smut, light angst Word Count: 3k Playlist: Separation Anxiety Warnings: 18+, smut, mentions of violence, dub-con (Yuuji has lost his memories, and Sukuna lies to him about being boyfriends). All characters are of age. This story is 18+. Minors don't interact.

Chapter 09

Put your lips on my scars and teach me to love (Don't You Know by Jaymes Young)

The smell of herbs and candle wax fills Sukuna's nose as he strolls through the narrow aisles of the small deli shop across the street. In his hand is a shopping list written in Itadori's scrawly handwriting.

The irony isn't lost on Sukuna. A thousand years ago, it would have been unthinkable for him to shop for anything himself. He was the King of Curses. He was a God. People brought offerings to his temple, begging him to accept them. And everything he needed for his everyday life got taken care of by Uraume.

But times have changed. His life has changed. Now, Itadori Yuuji has a say in things, too, in their shared household. And as ironic as it is, Sukuna has to abide so he can keep up this little charade.

The brat had been indignant, huffed, and hit Sukuna's arm playfully when Sukuna said grocery shopping was Uraume's job.

"Oh, don't be so lazy, Kuna! The deli shop is just across the street! And Uraume is already busy doing the laundry today. I think everyone should contribute to the household! I will prepare the kitchen, and you go shopping, baby!"

Sukuna catches himself laughing softly at the memory of those golden eyes looking at him so sternly.

The whole situation was rather amusing. So what if the King of Curses is currently looking for ingredients for their dinner? It's fine. He is still the one in control. He just has to make some accommodations. It's part of the plan.

And after all, he is also benefitting from his little shopping trip. The brat wants to cook tonight. He has been watching the Food Channel a lot those last few days and wants to try a recipe he saw there. And Sukuna knows that the boy is a good cook. So if it means getting an exquisite homemade meal, Sukuna is ok with going shopping, or as the brat calls it, contributing to the household.

When he gets back, he is greeted by a smiling Yuuji.

"See, it wasn't that bad, was it?"

The brat looks far too smug, but Sukuna just laughs and lets himself get pushed against the fridge, smirking when Yuuji presses a kiss onto his lips.

Yuuji's tongue delves deep into Sukuna's mouth while eager fingers work to unbuckle Sukuna's belt and undo his pants.

He receives a mindblowing blow job right there, leaning against the fridge, his hands tangled in Yuuji's hair while the boy slurps devotedly on Sukuna's cock, with spit running so lovely down his chin, rewarding Sukuna for being a responsible member of this household.

Sukuna always assumed he would never understand love. And if someone could show it to him, it would be someone who held the same powerful position as he did. Another person who was at the top, sitting on a lonely throne.

He had been wrong.

Because he can see love now. He can see it in a pair of sparkling golden eyes full of warmth and affection when they look at him. He can see it in a broad smile that grows even bigger than the owner of that smile catches Sukuna looking.

He can feel it in tight hugs and sweet kisses. He can hear it in the tender words whispered to him before falling asleep. He can see it in the hundreds of little things Yuuji does for him: A cup of hot chocolate here, a backrub there, letting Sukuna decide which movie to watch or what snacks to get.

Yuuji loves him.

He doesn't love the powerful King of Curses. He loves the man Sukuna. He knows nothing about Sukuna's power or position. The version of Sukuna that he knows is stripped of all those things. He doesn't know that Sukuna could make the world his and give Yuuji anything he could ever wish for.

He only knows his boyfriend Kuna. The man who lives in that penthouse with him. The man who watches movies with him and goes on morning runs with him. And Yuuji loves that man. The man that Sukuna is behind his titles and riches.

It's all based on a lie, of course.

Sukuna isn't that man.

But Yuuji doesn't know any better. He doesn't know what Sukuna did and how he hurt Yuuji and the people close to him in the past. He doesn't know about the death and destruction Sukuna brings with him anywhere he goes.

Itadori Yuuji is just a naive boy who loves with his whole heart. The very heart that Sukuna once ripped out of his chest and threw away like it was trash.

But Yuuji doesn't know that.

Is this fate's irony? That Sukuna finally found the one who can teach him about love, but it will shatter the moment the truth comes out?

"Kuna? Baby? Are you ok? You have that look in your eyes again."

Warm hands cup Sukuna's cheeks tenderly as the boy slips onto his lap and straddles him. There is genuine worry in his golden eyes as he looks at Sukuna.

Sukuna smiles at him. He can't tell if it is a genuine or fake smile. The lines are getting blurred lately. His arms wrap around the boy automatically, holding him safely in his embrace.

"I'm ok, don't worry, darling. Just thinking about the past."

Yuuji nods as if understanding what Sukuna means. His golden eyes wander over Sukuna's face, and gentle fingers trace the black tattoed lines until they reach the scars under Sukuna's eyes. The ones where his second pair of eyes used to be when he was still in his true form. The same scars the brat used to have when they still shared a body. Yuuji's fingertips brush gently over those scars, caressing them carefully.

"Where did you get those scars? Was it some ritual stuff of your family? Like some initiation? Did it hurt? My poor baby."

He leans closer, and his warm breath brushes lightly over Sukuna's cheeks.

"You probably had a rough past, Kuna. And I wish I could go back in time and make it alright for you. I wish I could take away all the pain you experienced. I wish I could have been by your side back then and protected you."

And then his lips land on Sukuna's skin, soft and tender. But it feels as if they burn Sukuna's skin. Yuuji is kissing his scars. And Sukuna can't breathe.

Yuuji's touch is so gentle, and yet it breaks Sukuna more than any violence all his enemies combined have thrown his way.

Has anyone ever wanted to protect him? To save him? It's an insane thought. He came into this world as the strongest, too powerful, too dangerous. Even his mother had feared him. And that's how it had stayed his whole life. People feared him or saw him as a source of power they could use to their advantage. Sukuna was always meant for great things. A new era. A new King. A new God. A monster so powerful it could rule the whole world.

He had never needed saving. It's a thought so ridiculous! As if someone as powerful as Sukuna needed saving! As if someone like him needed a stupid hero!

And yet, a small voice in Sukuna whispers that it may have been different if Yuuji had been there in his past. Maybe things would have gone a very different way. Maybe there could have been another life for him. A life where strength and absolute power weren't the only things he knew. If anyone in this world could have saved Sukuna, it would probably really have been the brat with his stupid, naive heart so full of love.

The brat is getting more restless lately. The morning runs in the park aren't enough anymore. So Sukuna starts taking him on short trips to coffee shops and bakeries. And soon, he finds himself loosening his restraints on the boy. At this point, he knows that Yuuji will always come back to him.

It's even sweeter than having him locked up in the penthouse like a prisoner. It gives Sukuna a deep satisfaction to see the boy willingly come back home to him with a broad smile and his arms full of snacks he bought for their movie nights.

And he always pulls Sukuna into a tight hug after his return, snuggling into his arms, clinging to him as if he feels that dull ache in his chest, too, when they are too far apart. He probably experiences that phantom pain, too. But even without it, he is so smitten with Sukuna that he would never leave.

Such a sweet victory. The brat could run, but he doesn't want to.

Sukuna sighs and gets up from the couch, slowly strolling over to the floor-to-ceiling window. His eyes narrow as he gazes down at the park and then lets his gaze wander over the seemingly endless streets and buildings under him.

Tokyo. Such a big city filled with so many souls, with so much warm flesh and life. A kingdom fitting for a King like him. A huge pot for him to stir. All those lost souls, caught in the loneliness and stress of modern life. He could give them something to pray for. He could be their God. He could make this city bow to him, collectively bringing all its citizens to their knees, worshipping and fearing him.

He could have all that. But he isn't even interested in it anymore, strangely. All his eyes search for in that sea of nameless bodies is that familiar shade of pink.

Two hours pass. The sun is beginning to set, casting a pink and orange glow over the city.

No sign of the brat.

The hollow feeling in Sukuna's chest is growing in intensity.

Where are you?

Did Sukuna misjudge the situation? Did the boy decide to run after all?

The shrill ringing of the phone pulls him out of his thoughts. He hears Uraume answer it, hears them sounding surprised, and then soft footsteps approach Sukuna.

Uraume bows deeply before him,

"Excuse me, Master Sukuna, this was a call from the hospital. Apparently, Master Yuuji was injured, and they called to let you know that he is up and wants to go home. But they won't let him leave on his own."

And just like that, Sukuna's vision goes blurry. Black spots dance before his eyes. The world is out of focus. His blood is rushing loudly in his ears, and his heart is hammering too fast in his chest.

"Master Sukuna?"

Sukuna manages to focus his gaze on Uraume. He nods curtly, shoving his shaking hands deeply into the pockets of his black suit pants. An indifferent smirk lifts his lips, but he thinks he can hear a strained note in his low voice when he replies,

"Alright, thank you, Uraume. Get the car, please. Let's pick that annoying brat up, then. That boy is nothing but trouble."

His jaw clenches painfully once his loyal servant has left the penthouse to get the car.

Fucking brat! What did you do?

Sukuna hastily grabs his suit jacket and shrugs into it while striding toward the elevator with large, hurried steps. The ride to the ground floor takes too long. Sukuna groans, one hand tugging at his tie. Why is it so hard to breathe in here?

When Sukuna strides down the brightly lit hospital corridor, he can already hear the brat's indignant voice carry to his ears, arguing with the nurse.

Sukuna stops in the open doorway, glancing at the hospital bed where Itadori is sitting, shirtless, with a large bandage wrapped around one shoulder and his ribcage. His tan skin is littered with bruises and scratches.

Sukuna feels as if someone landed a punch in his guts.

"Yuuji."

The boy turns his head, and Sukuna's heart constricts when their eyes meet across the room.

"Kuna! They won't let me go home! I told them several times I was ok, but they refuse to let me go!"

Sukuna is the one who closes the distance between them and pulls Yuuji into his arms. His embrace is too tight, but he cannot make himself loosen his hold on his brat. He needs that throbbing ache in his chest to go away. He needs his brat pressed to his body as close as possible to make sure he is ok. To make sure that what belongs to Sukuna is still intact.

He is already using his reverse cursed technique, intentionally, this time, mending Yuuji's wounds, taking all the pain away from him.

His lips move against the boy's temple, his voice sounding strange to his own ears,

"What happened? Are you alright?"

Yuuji nods while his arms wrap around Sukuna, and he nuzzles his face against Sukuna's neck,

"Yeah, I'm fine. I'm glad you came here so fast. I just want to go home. It's just a scratch anyway."

At this point, the nurse clears her throat loudly.

"I wouldn't call that just a scratch! He got into a fight and got a stab wound in his shoulder that needed stitches. We advised him to stay here overnight, but he is adamant about going home. I can only let him go if you attest that you will stay with him at all times for the next 24 hours."

Sukuna doesn't even hear the second part. His mind starts spinning when he hears the words stab wound. Hot anger fills him, making him hug Yuuji even tighter. What a mockery that someone attacked Yuuji with a knife, of all things! Sukuna is the Master of a slashing technique! He is the one who slashed the brat open in the past, who severed his limbs from him several times just for the fun of it. But now, someone else cut Yuuji's skin open and drew blood from him! Sukuna is breathing heavily. How dare anyone touch what's his! How dare anyone lay a finger on his brat!

His voice is cold, barely able to hide the fury that's raging through him,

"How did this happen?"

Yuuji looks sheepishly up at him,

"Um, well, this kid got jumped by those three guys. I saw it happen, so what was I supposed to do? I went over to help him, of course!"

The nurse's face softens, and she nods,

"That was very kind of you but also dangerous."

Sukuna's fingers twist in the back of Yuuji's hair.

"Where are those guys?"

He will make sure they suffer before he ends their useless little lives.

"Already at the police station."

Sukuna wants to go after them, splatter their brains all over the floor, and make them choke on their own blood.

Yuuji groans slightly, his hands grabbing Sukuna's jacket tightly, probably feeling dizzy from the blood loss. And Sukuna realizes, to his astonishment, that instead of getting revenge, another matter is more important to him at the moment. The urge to hold Yuuji, to cup his cheek and make him tilt his head up so Sukuna can inspect his face. So Sukuna can see those beautiful golden eyes look back at him with that bright sparkle of life in them. So he can caress that soft skin and see the loving smile on the brat's lips.

His gaze doesn't leave Yuuji's as he tells the nurse,

"He's coming home with me. Hand me the papers I need to sign."

They leave the hospital shortly after, walking towards the parking lot with Sukuna's arm wrapped tightly around Yuuji's waist, keeping him close to his side.

He sits in the back with Yuuji on the drive home, holding his hand, unable to take his gaze away from the pastel pink hair and the pretty face of his former vessel. The dull ache of the missing soulbond is gone now that they are so close again, but to Sukuna's dismay, something still doesn't feel right. His chest feels too tight, and his heart feels too heavy.

"Don't ever do something so reckless again. Promise me you won't get yourself into danger like that again!"

He doesn't know where the words come from. Is this part of the role he is playing? The worried boyfriend? He cannot remember making the conscious decision to say those words.

Yuuji bites his lips,

"I'm sorry for worrying you, baby. But I had to help. I couldn't just walk away."

Of course, you couldn't. Even without your memories, you are still the stupid, selfless hero through and through.

Sukuna doesn't sleep that night.

He lies awake in the king-sized bed with Yuuji snuggled into his arms. Thoughts keep racing through his mind while his chest and throat still feel tight, making it feel like he can't breathe.

He cannot remember feeling this way before, but now, in the quiet of the night, he has time to analyze it and realizes that he recognizes those signs. He has seen them before. Short, fast breath, fingers stiff and clenched into claws, eyes wide open and unblinking. He has seen this a thousand times before, just never on himself, only on his victims.

He knows what this is.

Fear.

Sukuna's body is in a state of panic. Something he has never experienced firsthand before.

And the most troubling thing about this is that he knows exactly what triggered this.

The brat got hurt.

Sukuna could have lost Yuuji. And the thought of that sent him spiraling.

He grits his teeth angrily. It's ironic how he spent years wishing the boy death and ruin so Sukuna could finally break free, only to now cling to Yuuji desperately, afraid to let go of him in fear of feeling him slip through his fingers and dissolve into thin air.

When did it come to this? How did this happen?

Sukuna can't find an answer to those questions that race through his mind. But he lies awake the whole night listening to the soft inhale and exhale of the boy in his arms. His hand comes to rest on Yuuji's chest right above his heart. Sukuna's fingers sprawl possessively over the defined muscles of the boy's chest, feeling the reassuring constant thrum of Yuuji's strong heart, silently counting every beat.

Thank you so much for reading Chapter 9!! Big bad Sukuna panicking when Yuuji gets injured makes my heart happy ;) Did you notice when Kuna suddenly thought of Yuuji as "his brat" instead of "the brat"? I cried so much while writing that. It's the little things sometimes that make me emotional. My fave scene to write was where Yuuji kisses Sukuna's scars, though. That has always been something I NEEDED to write for Sukuita, and it makes me so weak. The thought of someone treating Sukuna with such tenderness makes me sob!! I hope you enjoyed the chapter and that it could make you emotional, too. Thank you so much to everyone who keeps reading every update! It means so much to me to share this story with you! Comments and reblogs would be very sweet.

#sukuita #sukuna x itadori #sukuna x yuuji #sukuna #jjk fanfic

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lotusmi · 1 year

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my success, my failures

honest post about my current life and thoughts on void 💌

Hi angels, this my most personal post and I don't know why, i felt like posting this. This is going to be an honest long post about my loa journey, void journey and whatever how my life went after I realized I was in control.

At first point I would like to recall: I am not a void state blog, I am not a void "master" (I am not assuming this, In 4d I sure AM!). My blog is more about LOA, the Neville Goddard Law, the Edward Art Law. The simple, beautiful Law that I felt in love with. I like the void state method, I have entered it a few times, I'll be talking on this in a while, first I'll tell my story until here on how I left the worst circumstances...

As I was someone like most of people are, I thought I was not the operant power. I have known the law of attraction for 7 years, and I belived I had to "beg" the "universe" to give me things, I would write letters to the "universe" asking for my desires, then I would try to have "good energy", write down million of affirmations in future tense and then wait in hope to be "deserving" of them.

As time passed by, I yes, had manifested some things with this law of attraction thing, but I never changed my state, my mindset, I did not even knew what was those stuff, I would still let myself imagine bad things happening to me, I felt unwanted, ugly, unlucky, with no freedom. I had also lots of limiting beliefs, had to drink water to subs work, listen to then million times, be deserving, be positive, afirm without saying "no/never" etc.

Things were getting worse, I felt always more unwanted, different, unlucky, inferior, all of that. My life was getting shitty, I would imagine me having fights with my parents, me crying, I would see myself as an victim of the world, and I stopped even trying to have optimism and using law of attraction, i literally gave up. At this point I had lost my faith, so I lived all my days complaining and begging God, universe, deities to "save me". In this phase I suffered like never, I was super depressed, my home was toxic and i mean TOXIC. I was anxious, I wanted to kill myself. I wanted to break free.

So at this point I was in the worst months of my life, I was not allowed to even have friends or use internet for more than 7 months straight. The things they did to me... I am even embarassed to tell about those things. I had to decide on persist or give up. So I said to myself I would do my better to ignore my outer-world and stop letting those things affect me, it was not easy. I would hurt myself and have a lot of anxiety crisis, but I found my peace within, I started living in imagination and seeing in my imagination what I most wanted to have, be. I was being delusional, I did not even knew about all of this LOA thing. I just wanted to escape of my reality.

In less than 2 months everything changed. I was more happier, and I was now allowed to do my things again, talk to friends, have my computer and all of this. I did not knew It was me, I thought it was a miracle.

Life went by, I fell in love, my selfconcept was shit, he dumped me. Still, at that time I did not knew about the law. I did not knew he did that because I assumed. I would imagine that he did not loved me, I would imagine him saying "it is over" at the point I would cry imagining, I felt that real, so I manifested. I was the cause. I did not knew.

After all of this I wanted to love myself and take care of me, I started learning about spiritualy, I learned that I am part of God. That I am God experiencing being human. I walked in love, started healing my trauma, I got a lot of it. In a meditation trying to communicate to my "higher self" I entered the void, blue gray, peaceful, beautiful... So still... I there naturally affirmed "I am calm, happy, love, ethereal". After this day everythin changed and I had no more reasons to be sad, I was healed.

But I was still in love with my ex and I only discovered the law because of it, I searched on how to manifest an ex, yea. It did not worked since of I let old story, circumstances, "false free will" let me down. But I discovered the neville subreddit, then the loatumblr, then the void, WHAT WAS, the void. And got to know I had entered it once, I wanted to do it again. I entered more of 3 times maybe until now, and also got some I AM state experiences. (They not the same to me since i feel emptiness from void and wholenesses from I AM + I AM state is golden and I see myself in other people bodies).

I learned about void with Halokisses, but at that point I thought it was some magical place, months passed by, my void concept got better but I still let circumstances bother me. I was not also doing my best to enter it to be honest. I was manifesting my life to be great even while manifesting entering in the void.

♡ What happened by this last months is that I just realized I love my life now, I love myself, my body, my friends, I have time to me, I have enough money to buy my things, I am free to do a lot of things. I never am bothered by circumstances + senses since I am in control of my states. and this made me feel like I don't even need the void altrough I still am going to enter it again, my void concept is beyond perfect right now that I fully know WHO I AM. At this point I am just so saturated about void that I relaxed about WHEN entering again because I am full convicted that I can do this and that I don't "NEED" it.

What I am trying to say is, circumstances does not matter, and you all don't need the void! You all need yourselves. I also want you to know that I AM not a "void master blog" all of that. I am someone who won the circumstances and manifested things, I am someone in love with Neville that want to help people, I am someone that did some subs for helping other people.

I know how it feels to be in a toxic home, feel ugly, be unwanted, have no friends, no money, be depressed, be anxious. I only told you the last 3 years of my life. I know how the void seems to be the only "way" and all of that. I know how it is like to just have someone to say "I am entering it for you" or wonder "When is my time?", I know how is like to think "you are the only exception" I know the void for about 8 months and I did not gave up. I manifested lots of things even while manifesting entering it. ♡ ALL I did was to change the story I was telling myself, the assumptions I held about me. I understood that 3d reflects 4d and so no matter what, everything is possible.

So please, stop begging me to "enter the void" for you or say "I can't do x so do for me". I am doing ALL I NOW can do to help you, I do posts, I reply asks, I make audios, I assume you all can do it. As soon as I enter the void I am of course affirming for you there. But until now I NEED, no, YOU need to save yourself, because even WITHOUT me, you can do this. YOU ARE THE CREATOR.

You don't have to pass by all that I had passed to realize WHO YOU ARE.

♡ My success story is I myself, I saved me. I am not depressed anymore, I am calm, happy, I am free. I never thought I could love myself this way!

₊and as soon I enter the void again, I will post my success, do more challenges, and I am even thinking of entering for it for you.

I hope this had inspired you and cleared things about me and my blog, I hope we all can help ourselves,

with love, Lotus - because I rised from mud. 💌

#success story #about me #motivation #the void state #loa tumblr #loa blog #law of assumption #neville goddard #healing

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easy-revenge · 9 months

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its been over 2 years since i read volume 9 of chainsaw man and it still apparently has the power to make me sob uncontrollably when i think about it so im going to talk a bit about aki and denji being shown as children during the snowball fight and why it's currently making me wanna rip my hair out :)

aki is already gone during this scene for all intents and purposes, having very little comprehension of the events his body is in and just waiting to be set free. his mind reverting back to the moment he lost his family is not surprising, since that's when his life permanently changed trajectory.

he's not to blame for being stuck in this moment, as it would make sense for any kid his age. however, he didn't put himself on the path towards revenge, which inevitably made him unable to let go. that was makima. she took him by the hand and gave him this "purpose", something she very well knew he was never going to achieve anyway. she trapped him in this predicament and made sure he stayed there till there were no options left for him.

to the very end, aki's life was never his own, but planned for him. aki never left that snowy forest. he wasn't allowed to.

as a result, the essence of aki that remained within the gun fiend after his death materialized as the last genuine version of aki that ever was. a kid playing in front of his house.

moving over to denji, who is the one that got me crying today. his appearance as a child in aki's mind is partly to parallel the bond they shared and the bond between aki and his little brother, whom he lost that day. of course. however i think there's a lot of significance to this choice for denji's character as well.

denji grew up remote and very disconnected from society. he never got the chance to learn how to navigate his feelings and relationships with other people. he had to figure it all out as he went, first with pochita, whom he got attached to and later with aki and power. even with makima.

makima was the first person to ever give him attention and affection, to give him the things he always wanted, but she never treated him like a person. she never helped him get any closer to learning how to be one. he was used, much like aki was, and was given a purpose that was never going to be for his own benefit.

as a result, denji took a while to go through the motions of being surrounded by humans and being taught by them. the first time we saw him face the concept of loss was with pochita, an event that didn't really give him much in terms of experience considering all the implications and how suddenly it changed his life. in its nature, it wasn't a type of loss he would've been able to navigate as a human.

im not going to go into the situation with his father since we saw very explicitly how incapable he was to handle it to the point of blocking it out and having it haunt him till the end of part one. he surely didn't get much data out of that experience either, or the abuse he went through before it.

the first real time he got to see loss occur very close to him was himeno's death. he had no emotional reaction to it, which confused him since he was able to observe its effect on aki and other people around him. he questioned his own humanity for the first time and it upset him, if only momentarily. it gave him a hint of perspective.

sadly, he was going to find out what loss meant the hard way.

with makima still treating him like an animal and the circumstances forcing him to still rely on his instincts, denji's emotional maturity wasn't really prioritized. he did inevitably grow closer to aki and power, without necessarily being able to recognize those feelings for what they were. again he just had to go through the motions.

fast forward to the gun devil arc. he's told by makima on the phone to not think, to just fight aki without thinking about it. we see the progress that's been made in how clearly unable denji is to follow that order, aki being the closest thing to family he's ever had by this point.

he fights his best friend, not even thinking about himself, but of how aki would feel if he were conscious of how much destruction he was causing. still up to this point, denji doesn't know that he loves aki. it hasn't computed to him as a piece of info, only as an experience.

him being shown as a child in the snow, a contrast to the violent reality that his body is in, has as much significance as it does for aki.

denji never really grew up, he never got past his father's death or anything that happened to him before and after that. he was kept from it by his life and makima herself, once again. his ineptitude was weaponized and he was nowhere near being aware of it. he was also stuck.

in that scene, denji experiences real loss. he loses someone he loves and someone who loves him back. someone who thought himself unable to do so but was the first to love him like a human.

he was just a kid, losing his family by his own hand again, only this time he had been loved.

it's highlighted in the next chapter, where he appears unable to grieve and looks kind of numb instead. then we have the ice cream scene, where he thinks the words for the first time and throws up immediately.

his confusion after it happens, him being unable to fathom why his body would have such a reaction, breaks my heart almost more than the entirety of the snowball fight itself, from denji's pov.

im not going to talk about what happens directly after that and its implications bc im gonna end up talking forever, but his behavior throughout the next chapters very much shows how out of his depth he is when it comes to loss and grief and how lost and helpless he is in makima's hands.

my point is, both aki and denji were used, weaponised and kept from growing up while also having to deal with the world and its cruelty at the same time. even the closeness they achieved was planned and used against them both. this is only one of many angles of the snowball fight scene that can be looked at and interpreted in different ways. but it was the one that made me ugly cry today :)

#oof #this was inspired by a tiktok i saw with panels from that scene #and i went from fine to snot running down my face in the span of a singular minute #:)))#chainsaw man #aki hayakawa #chainsaw man denji #denji #hayakawa family #csm #chainsaw man manga #chainsaw man manga spoilers #chainsaw man analysis #makima

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saturnianprincess · 2 years

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[pick a card] love messages

A short pick-a-card where I channel messages from your current lover/future lover/soulmate or just anyone with who you are or will be romantically involved.

Choose any group group from 1-4 or whichever bear you feel drawn to the most. As always take what resonates and let the rest fly! Hope you enjoy this reading :)

[Group 1] blue bear

Hey sunshine,

I know you are manifesting me and guess what even I am manifesting you! Life has just been about surviving for you lately and trust me I can feel that you have gone through a lot. I am proud of you for being a survivor but please don't feel hopeless, the skies get sunny and clear after the storm. I promise to be the light at the end of your tunnel. You don't have to do this alone, I am always there supporting you (even if I may not be there physically). Please don't dwell on what happened, I know I can't erase that but I promise you wouldn't have to deal with such a thing ever again. I will protect you!

Yours truly

[Some of you who chose this pile have been dwelling a lot about the past. Your future lover/person is saying that you need to heal yourself and let go of the past so that there is space for them to be a part of your life. Keep manifesting the qualities you want your future person to have and try to embody those qualities yourself as well. I am also sensing that some of you have detached yourself from your emotions due to some trauma you may have experienced (i am sorry you had to go through that) but, it's now time to heal it. Also, be open to change don't resist it! Trust the universe, it has some beautiful things planned for you.]

a song from them:

[Group 2] pink bear

hey lover,

How are you? Have you been getting those messages I keep sending you? Yes, it's me trying to connect with you. I am currently working on myself, I might have come across as too arrogant but I swear it's just a facade to protect myself. I have learned a lot of lessons that life has taught me and I am practicing to become the best version of myself for you. I want to build a home with you. A cute family where there's so much love flowing amongst us. I really just want to hold you so tight and give you all my love. I want to be able to give you everything you desire and even more.

Always and forever yours

[Omg, so much lovey-dovey energy in this reading it's so cute! For some of your future lover's higher self is trying to connect with you they are referring to signs or symbols you may see repetitively. Some of you may have met this person recently or you do not know them that well. They have this provider energy, and they really want to fill your cup with love!! Connect to your subconscious to connect with their energy. They are sending you loads and loads of love!]

a song from them:

[Group 3] purple bear

Hey soulmate,

Yeah, I just can't believe that you are real. Damn, I never thought an angel like you could even exist. you are truly my wish come true and I'm so grateful to have you in my life. We really are meant to be. I feel like if I wasn't there at that place that day I might not have ever met you and ngl this does scare me a bit. But I also know your soul has been intertwined with mine for eons and eons. I'm sorry that I have been so impulsive lately but I swear I want to experience life to the fullest with you so I just cannot stay still with you around! My heart gets all fuzzy when I am with you. I can't wait to see the world with you!!!

your fav boy/girl/person,

[Your future lover/spouse is giving me a golden retriever type of energy they are just buzzing with excitement when you are with them. Very wholesome energy! You both meet in a divinely orchestrated manner, it is a fated union of two souls. You might meet them soon or have seen them in your dreams or heard of them through other people. They are mesmerized by your presence.]

a song from them:

[Group 4] yellow bear

Hi y/n,

Life has been shitty to me. This turmoil that I am going through has made me feel like I am incapable of love. I don't know why but I don't have the courage to open my heart again. I have spent sleepless nights thinking about why did I go through that, I did my best but I guess I didn't deserve that. I know you are out there and I know you would never do such a thing but it's hard to keep hope when I see it being taken away from me day by day. But I am thankful for you, I really am. You have taught me that I can heal my heart and trust you to keep it safe. I love you!

Love,

[Your future spouse has been going through a tower moment. They are stressed and anxious about their future. Some of them have been betrayed by a person they trusted dearly while for others they are dealing with their own shadow. All in all a bit of heavy energy for this pile. You are the universe's gift to them and they feel blessed for you.]

a song from them:

#tarotcommunity #tarot cards #pick a card #future spouse #future lovers #romantic #messages from future spouse #Spotify #pariposts

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moonpool-system · 18 days

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In your most recent (to making this ask) reblog you mentioned being other kin and having facets that seemed to be kins at one point (or being both). How did you figure out they were facets vs kins? I'm still learning about my system, but have a few kins figured out but some kins I'm wondering if are facets/alters/etc and would love any advice I can get on knowing the difference.

Heya! I know this is pretty late but hope this advice still gets to ya!

On telling the difference between facets & kintypes!

[On telling the difference between facets & kintypes!]

We identify as both otherkin and a system, and while telling the difference between the two is much easier nowadays, it really wasn't when we first started out - we realized our median monoconscious host facets had been masking under 'kin shifts for years. Nowadays we have a sort of checklist we go through to tell if an identity is a kintype or an introject of some sort. Hopefully this can help people sort out the difference!

Note: these are all from the perspective of a single system! Others may have other experiences and are encouraged to add to this post.

Otherkin experiences

[Otherkin experiences]

- Being otherkin means having an innate "other" identity you identify as You. Many singular people feel like they have different aspects of themselves, and a kintype may feel like that, but it will still be intrinsically intwined with your core self. Your kintype identity cannot be "separated" from You.

- We find a good way to tell if a potential kintype is yours, is to refer to the 'type and their actions with I/me pronouns. For example, let's say someone's fictionkin as Character xyz. They likely would feel comfortable saying, "I am xyz. My friends are [xyz's friends] and I partook in [experiences xyz experienced]. I feel a certain way about those experiences because they affected me personally."

- Kin shifts, in the otherkin community, are periods of time where you experience the aspects of your otherkin identity more intensely for an amount of time. This is generally considered not a plural experience, since those in kin shifts might lean heavier into the aspects of themselves aligning with their kintype, they often will not contradict their non-shifted selves on things like identity, current dislikes, and moral opinions.

- Sometimes we feel more or less connected to certain kintypes than others, but not only is that likely because most of us are past life otherkin, but the dissonance doesn't get too extreme unless we're in a different facet or another member all together.

Polyconscious median experiences

- Being co-conscious with another system member can feel like "you" at first, but there're some distinct differences. When you're experiencing an emotion or memory related to a possible kintype or other member, consider how it may feel for these emotions to be coming from a third person perspective within your own body. Ask yourself these questions: Does it feel like these emotions/memories are coming from my perspective? Does this directly contradict how I'm feeling right now? Do I feel a disconnect from this feeling/memory/identity, as if I'm feeling someone else next to me experience it rather than feeling as if it's me? (Remember, for many people with system members connected to their kintypes, it can be both)

- Do your emotions and experiences related to your "kintype" feel controlled by you, or do they feel like they have a whim of their own, changing on a course only connected to yours? Does your "kintype" feel like they have their own free will? If unsure, try reaching out to and talking with that identity with your mental voice, and see if you get an emotional or mental-verbal response!

- Your kintype will feel like an inseparable aspect of you, while another member may feel more like an "outside force" despite being internal. Do you feel like you "tune out" of the world while your identity takes the wheel of doing things and expressing using the conscious awareness/body? Many systems can misinterpret switches as kin shifts due to not knowing that not all systems black out when not in front.

- When you're unsure if you're just in a shift or if someone's around with you, try calling out to and talking to them with your mental voice. You might have to do it a few times! You may feel a stirring of emotion separate from yours or even get a response in internal voice as well. Kintypes generally don't act on their own or respond to you.

Monoconscious median experiences

- Switching between monoconscious facetw can feel a lot like kin shifts. Compare how you feel in a "shift" to how you felt before. Do you feel drastically different? Do you feel like using a different name, or that you have a different gender or pronouns? Are your opinions & tastes different from before? How differently do you act outwardly? Kin shifts generally just make you feel more intensely in the headspace of your kintype- it won't change anything drastic or contradictory like that.

- Compare your self before the "shift" to now. Does your identity, opinions, gender, tastes, etc feel unpleasant or wrong to apply to you? Does it bring discomfort or dysphoria? That's probably separation you're feeling. While in median systems, members may have similar aspects, there're usually contrasting elements as well. (this median part goes doubly for polycon members as well)

- A way to conceptualize monoconscious medianhood is feeling as if "you" are shifting and changing into something new, rather than being there along with somebody else tied to you. Your point of perspective may not shift when you switch front, but your identity does.

Important points of crossover!!

[Important points of crossover!!]

- You may feel like more than one of these concepts apply for a singular source/'type, and that's okay! Kintypes can form as headmates and still be your kintype as well - it takes a little to get used to, but that's just how it is sometimes. Having two people that both ID as the same source is typically called doubles, just the same as the fictionkin community

- Other members of the system can have their *own* kintypes, which can get a little complicated, but it'll get easier to sort out as you practice and increase communication.

Hope this helps out some!! Sorry it took a bit

#otherkin #plural community #plural system #fictive #fictionkin #am i plural #alterhuman #plurality #pluralgang #pluralpunk #monoconscious #polyconscious #median system #prism subsystem

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theodorecanaryhood · 1 year

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The tale of the Robin who never loved

Jason Todd x Male Reader (including swearing and sex)

Happy pride 🏳️‍🌈

A dark abandoned warehouse filled with the screams of Jason Todd, the second Robin. The angry teenager who got too cocky.

Joker had just about done all methods of torture on the young man, laughing hysterically the whole time. Fear and sadness was all Jason could feel right now.

Jason never loved his whole life, his parents were just as bad as most of the scum who roamed the streets at night in Gotham. Jason lived in the streets, then being adopted by Bruce Wayne.

Jason found it hard to love the man he now calls Dad, feeling like he was only adopted into the Wayne line to replace his older brother, Dick. Not there because Bruce loved and cared for him.

So, here it was now in present day Gotham City, with Jason, or rather currently Red Hood, dishing what he was given all his life.

His unhealthy amount of anger was fostered by a pair of personas, until the day it was finally released on anyone who crossed him the wrong way.

Jason was not a happy man nor was he an empathetic man, at least not to those he didn’t care much for. He, of course, would make it very obvious. If Jason didn’t like you, there was no changing it, he did not like you.

Half the time there was no reason behind it, he just didn’t want to be open to new people. So used dislike as an excuse.

One particular humid night on patrol, humidity, heat and anger are never a good mix FYI, Jason was just not in the mood to give in. Patrol was rough, and criminals would be on the receiving end unfortunately.

The night club was loud tonight as the music blared, so loud the floor vibrated violently. Though no one cared, alcohol mixed with lights. People were never caring to complain the nightclub music hurt their ears.

Jason in particular stood out as he sat alone at the bar, drinking neat whiskey, more neat whiskey, shots, neat whiskey.

Was he drinking to forget? Feel better? Sleep better?

Jason didn’t know at this point as he poured the booze down his throat, waiting for the affects to kick in. One thing from the pit, was his tolerance got better, would drink way more than the average man and still had no affect. Drunkenness was not easy to come by.

The music was a good choice as Jason just listened and hummed along, to himself and just enjoyed the feel and the beat.

‘Hey handsome’ a woman smiled as she approached Jason.

Not unattractive to be fair as she stood a good height, roughly about 5’6, blonde curly hair, night dress. Great legs and soft skin. Big, blue eyes, not overdone with the fake tan and makeup.

‘Hi’ Jason side smiled, the woman placed her hand on Jason’s bicep, having a good feel.

‘I’m Elena, wanna dance with me?’ She asked, not letting go of Jason’s arm.

‘Sorry, Elena, I’m not really a dancer’ he replied politely, trying to pull his arm out of her grip.

Jason had his admirers but never cared much to let it go anywhere. To be fair, Jason knew his type, he just never met anyone from that.

‘It’s ok, we can have some drinks and see where the night goes’ Elena continued, flicking her hair behind her shoulder.

‘We can have a drink, I really don’t mind. Could use company’ Jason agreed, Elena getting happy as she sat next to him.

The two spoke for a while as they got past the first name basis, talking about music interests, different types of cocktails they liked.

‘So, you wanna have that dance now?’ Elena asked after a minute of talking about random music choice.

‘Still not a dancer, sorry’ Jason reminded, Elena smiled as she shrugged.

‘No problem hotness, we can go back to my place and have a different kind of dance’ Elena laughed.

‘You are a very beautiful woman Elena, but you’re really not my type’ Jason responded as politely as possible.

Elena looked at Jason annoyed as she sighed, looking him the eyes.

‘What would make me your type?’ She asked, Jason chuckled a little.

‘My type is toned, dark haired, nice eyes, great smile, male’ Jason informed, Elena clocked on and nodded.

‘Got it’ she said, sliding off the chair and walking away with her drink.

Jason laughed a little as he started on his next drink. Not paying attention to anything as he found humour in the situation he was just in.

That’s when he knocked someone’s arm and spilt their drink all over them, Jason’s eyes shot wide as he turned to them.

‘Oh my God, I’m so sorry, so sorry’ Jason apologised profusely to the male figure standing next to him.

‘It’s ok, really I didn’t look where I was going’ you said, seeing as Jason stared at you.

Call it enough and it’ll happen as Jason looked at you, toned, nice eyes, great smile, dark hair and male. Shit.

‘Let me buy you another drink’ Jason said as he urged you to stay next to him.

‘It’s ok’ you placed a hand on his shoulder, Jason insisting.

‘No really, it’s only polite, I knocked your drink out of your hand the least I should do is buy you another’ Jason kept insisting as he got the bartender over.

‘Hey, can I get another…uh’ Jason looked at you, you laughed.

‘God father’

‘Right, another one please’ Jason said to the bartender as he paid for the drink.

‘Feel like I should take you out to dinner’ you chuckled to Jason as he handed you the drink.

Jason looked at you with his eyebrows raised, smiling a little.

‘I mean, you brought me a drink so I should get you dinner’

Jason kicked the bar stool next to him to invite you to sit down, which you did.

The two of you sat for ages as you laughed and talked about life, having quite a deep conversation. You couldn’t deny this handsome stranger was quite intriguing.

‘I’m Jason Todd by the way, just realised I haven’t told you my name’ Jason held out his hand.

‘Y/n y/l/n’ you shook his hand with a bright smile.

The night got late as you looked down to see it was almost 1 in the morning, you didn’t even register how late it had gotten.

‘Crap, is that the time?’ You said looking at your phone screen.

‘Curfew?’ Jason asked jokingly as you smiled, nodding.

‘Something like that, was telling my roommate I wouldn’t be out too late tonight’ you stood up as Jason looked a little upset.

‘Well, if I give you my number will I get that dinner you promised?’ Jason asked, holding your hand.

‘Yeah, here’ you pulled a marker from behind the counter and wrote on Jason’s arm, your number of course.

‘Don’t wash that arm till you save my number’ you winked as you have Jason a kiss on the cheek.

Jason was almost floating the whole way home as he kept thinking about you, literally all he thought about for the 15 minute walk was you.

Your laugh, your smile…everything about you, Jason just wanted to go see you now.

‘What the hell?’ Jason said to himself as he got to his front door, wondering why he was like this all of a sudden.

First date was great, you gave Jason what he promised. Second date, Jason promised to kiss you spontaneously. And he did.

Jason stood with you under an archway as he took your hand in his, pulling you in and giving you a deep kiss. The kiss almost made you stop breathing as your heart stopped too, for about 30 seconds.

The kiss was all Jason could think about for the next couple of days, he couldn’t believe how beautiful it was. How good it made him feel.

It had been so long since Jason had kissed a guy he was sure he’d do something wrong, but you were so laid back. It took the pressure off.

Jason stood staring at himself in the mirror as he adjusted his shirt collar, he sprayed himself again. Thinking about how the next part was coming.

You entered Jason’s apartment after he kissed you at the door, all Jason wanted to do was kiss you. All the time.

There was a nice candlelit dinner with some light music on in the background, though no one paid attention to the music.

Jason couldn’t help the aching twitch in his pants as he looked at you, holding your hand from the other side of the table.

You weren’t doing much better either as all you could concentrate on right now was the same thing, the twitch.

Jason stood up as he took your hands in his and stood you up, kissing you passionately all of a sudden. A kiss you welcomed.

You pulled Jason in and pressed yourself up against his body, a body you’d been dying to see.

Jason slid your shirt off as you didn’t even register he’d unbuttoned it, you unbuttoning Jason’s. Running your hand down his torso, looking down and almost gasping.

‘Wow, you’re ripped’ you smiled.

A sigh of relief came from Jason as he pulled you in for another kiss, a relief that you never once commented on the scar filled body.

Jason lifted you up so your legs were wrapped around his waist, taking you to his room. Throwing you on his bed.

Jason pulled your pants down, your underwear and greeted your throbbing, hard dick with his mouth.

You threw your head back into the pillow as you moaned out, a breath escaped from your mouth in sheer joy.

Jason worked on your shaft like a pro as you moaned out, Jason held your hips in place as he went to work.

The bliss from his new found hobby was a feeling you didn’t know you could have, Jason holding you down so he could do all the work.

Jason came up to your face as he gave you another deep kiss, his tongue tasted of your pleasure. Though he wasn’t ready for you to finish yet.

He rolled you onto your stomach as he pulled your legs apart, Jason’s tongue tearing into your hole. Giving kisses to your ass cheeks, along with bites.

Jason was so hard it was hurting him but he wasn’t ready until you were, he wanted you to tell him how much you needed him. Jason was polite like that.

Jason dug his fingertips into your cheeks while his tongue devoured the hole, you gasping in pleasure.

‘Jason, I want you’ you breathed out, you felt Jason smile while his face was against you.

‘You sure?’ Jason asked, you grabbed at Jason’s leg, urging him to come closer.

You rolled on your back and kissed Jason deeply again, his lips were something special. You’d never had kisses like his before.

His kisses were hungry almost as Jason would grab and pull you close, yet he was also light when kissing, he would lightly peck before getting deeper.

‘Holy, wow’ you gasped as Jason took off his underwear.

There it was, Jason’s prize for your patience, his hard and throbbing dick, at least at a good 9/10 inches.

‘Come here baby’ Jason said sweetly, pulling you closer to him.

Jason lay you on your back while he kissed you, laying in between your spread open legs. Jason was lined up and ready.

You guys had spoken about protection already, you telling Jason you’re allergic to latex, so Jason took the responsibility to get latex free condoms.

Jason slid into you slowly, you buried your face into his shoulder, taking deep breaths. Jason entered and stayed there for a few seconds.

‘You ok babe?’ He asked you, you nodding as you breathed your way through it.

‘Yeah, feels amazing’ you smiled, Jason pecked your nose.

‘You want poppers?’ He asked sweetly, you shook your head.

‘No, just fuck me’ you urged as Jason began to move slowly.

Slow and small thrusts to start as No to brag, but Jason was aware he was quite big in the genital department, so he usually had to take his time when having sex with someone new.

‘Oh God, that feels amazing’ you breathed out, Jason smiled as he saw your face. Biting your lip, closing your eyes while your head was back in the pillow.

‘My sweet Angel’ Jason whispered as he picked up a quicker pace.

It had been a while for Jason so he was aware to take it slow, not to finish too quickly. Also, he was enjoying the view of you.

‘Jason, oh God’ you couldn’t find words as Jason began to move faster. Testing how fast he could go with you.

The more Jason sped up the more you loved it, so Jason began going quicker to a point where he was slapping against you.

‘I wanna sit on you’ you said as you urged Jason to roll on his back.

You slid back onto Jason’s dick while he lay down, you sitting on top.

You slid up and down slow for about a minute, running your hands up and down Jason’s arms and chest, then you began to go quicker.

‘Fuck, baby, y/n’ Jason almost shouted as you began to bounce quicker, allowing Jason to go balls deep inside you.

Jason took his hands away from your waist as he put one hand under his head, laying back. The other hand resting in your thigh.

Your hips moving as you began to jerk yourself, Jason taking his time to let you finish first.

‘Oh God I’m so close’ you moaned as you lay down on your back, your seed spilling everywhere. On Jason’s chest, the bed.

Jason chuckled as he started to pick up a quicker pace, you sat back up straight, feeling Jason inside you still.

‘Oh fuck, fuck’ Jason growled as he began to feel himself getting closer and closer.

‘Come in me’ you called out, neglecting the fact that the neighbours could hear you two.

Jason lifted his hips off the bed slowly and sharply as he got the end. Throwing his head back into the pillow.

You lay next to Jason as he caught his breath, while you kissed at his neck and shoulder.

‘I really need to clean up’ Jason smiled as he kissed your head, rolling out of bed.

Time went on and the two of you became more and more inseparable, after about 6 months Jason asked if you wanted to move your stuff to his apartment. You of course, accepting.

‘I really want to suck your dick’ Jason randomly said to you while you were cooking dinner, you smiled a little.

Jason lifted you off your feet and rested you on the counter, pulling your pants down as he went to work. Swallowing the load that came out.

‘Save the energy for dessert babe’ you smiled, Jason slapping your ass, pressing himself into you.

The two of you just had so much fun together and Jason was not even surprised or scared the first time you told him you loved him. He just wrapped you up in a hug, telling you he feels the same.

There was more to the relationship than just spurts if sex in the day, night and other times. Mean, you and Jason had sex nearly every night.

The other parts of the relationship was Jason surprising you to a trip away, Bruce’s beach house, a weekend getaway trip, a shopping trip. There really wasn’t anything Jason hadn’t surprised you with.

You introduced Jason to all the local Gay bars, you took him on his first pride March. Most precious to Jason, you just loved him hard. Probably the hardest anyone has ever loved him.

Jason Todd, the Robin who never loved, had changed dramatically and was mad at himself for so long going without you, for himself refusing to love and be loved. You helped him as he was now able to not only love you, but himself.

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