Chapter Text
ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : Advice - Alex G
▁ ▂ ▃ ▄ ▅ ▆ █ 100 %
╰┈➤ ❝ String the sinner by his wings ❞
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There'll always be something that makes (Y/n)'s life miserable.
And for the last few years, he's come to the conclusion that he himself is the cause of the misery. He doesn't want to live, but he doesn't want to die either. It's as if he's stuck in this sort of loop, a cicle that deteriorates his mind and being.
(Y/n) has lived traveling, his father worked in journalism and was often traveling with him. His mother has never been in the picture, his father used to tell him that she was a bad, bad woman. . . He'll never forget the fear that would flash across his father's eyes when his mother would be mentioned.
Sooner or later, he had found out his mother had gone ahead and abused his father when (Y/n) was still just a baby. Scars littered his father's body from the year he spent suffering in an abusive marriage, his mother was to be in jail until she rotted. . . supposedly, the abuse only covered a third of as why she was there, the rest is what (Y/n) never had the guts to ask his father about while he was young.
They've lived just about everywhere, (Y/n) has never been able to settle and make proper friends. Anyways, none of them clicked to begin with, so why worry about friends? He's lived through many experiences, he's familiar with poverty, abuse, homophobia, bullying, the black markets, illegal interactions, gangs, you name it. He has picked up many languages, he has many experiences, and he has many scars to prove everything he has gone through.
The world is not a nice place when you decide to look under it's pretty cover and lies, there are many beauties to it, but humanity's evil outweighs all of it.
Though. . . . . . There were some- beauties out there. . .
Dmitriy, this gorgeous Russian he met during one of the exchanges he did while with his father, when he was still alive.
Stupidly platinum blonde hair, tall, broody and a scar that slashed his left eyebrow around the end along with bottom lip. (Y/n) never cared about him too much, he always seemed bossy, noisy, god he just wanted him to fuck off from his desk some days. Then he got to know him after a ridiculous bus incident in which both of their buses had crashed, leaving them both waiting at the bus stop at an absurd time at night.
He hasn't fallen harder than that, Dmitriy's embarrassed smile as he shoved at his shoulder in an attempted to tell him off for how he thought he was unnecessarily adorable when stuffing a granola bar into his mouth. The same granola in his mouth as he muffled curses and tried to scoot to the farthest end of the bus seat. They had hit it off in silence, Russia was a very homophobic country after all, Dmitriy's father was particularly very homophobic so they both sort of. . . played around when it was late, running off from parties together, quick kisses in the library when (Y/n) would stay up at night to just indulge himself in reading, "study" sessions in which they said they'd meet up with the smart kids to study but rather went out to a local café.
(Y/n) swears that Dmitriy was the one, his closet was glass and (Y/n) couldn't help but find him endearing under all his tough, ragged layers. The stupid promise rings they used from old candy rings being their agreement for a future together, away from the hatred.
That is, until Dmitriy's father had heard rumors about them from the younger kids. Dmitriy had suffered a heavy beating along with his mother those weeks, in which each night his father yelled at him to promise over all that he wasn't gay. That he wasn't a faggot. The tears Dmitriy shed for those two weeks still wretches (Y/n)'s heart, unable to console his lover proper without feeling the gaze of people on them, all suspicious of them now.
When (Y/n) had enough and confronted Dmitriy's father, it ended in a fight which caused that the next day Dmitriy were forced to confront him.
"I hate you! How could they assume these things about us, about me all because of you!!" He screamed in a heavy Russian accent to (Y/n)'s face, his father not too far behind, watching for any faulty step as his son cursed out the exchange teen.
(Y/n) was shocked, he thought he would have been able to solve the conflict today, he had came with a back up plan as to confront Dmitriy's father again but. . .
"Я НАДЕЮСЬ, ЧТО ТЫ УМРЁШЬ, ПЕДАРЬ!! Я НИКОГДА НЕ ПОНРАВЛЮСЬ ТЕБЯ, НИКТО БОЛЬШЕ НЕ БУДЕТ НА ТЕБЯ МОЛИТЬ ГЛАЗОМ, ПОТОМУ ЧТО ЗНАЕТ, КАКОЙ ТЫ МУЖЧИНА-ШЛЮДА!!" (I HOPE YOU FUCKING DIE, YOU FAG!! I COULD NEVER LIKE YOU, NOBODY WILL EVEN BAT AN EYE AT YOU ANYMORE NOW THAT THEY KNOW THE SORT OF MAN-WHORE YOU ARE!!) Dmitriy continued, gritting his teeth as he stepped forward and reached forward, grabbing (Y/n)'s jacket to stop him from moving and reeled in a punch. Hitting (Y/n) in the jaw and causing the (h/c)-ette to blink a little, turning to look at Dmitriy with a betrayed expression.
". . . Dmitriy. . . Mittens, darling-" He spoke up, using the nickname he had given Dmitriy since they started dating in hopes to de-escalate whatever was going on, frowning as his eyes stung with light tears, but took longer to fall than Dmitriy's.
"ЗАТКНИСЬ, Я НЕ ВАРЕЖКИ, Я ГОВОРИЛ ТЕБЕ-ТЫ-" (SHUT UP I'M NOT MITTENS I TOLD YOU-YOU-)
"DMITRIY." His father spoke up, making both Dmitriy and (Y/n) turn to him as he glared "мы уходим." (we're leaving)
Dmitriy shuddered, the cold tone of his father never meant any good as he nodded before slowly turning away from (Y/n), following behind his father before he shared a fleeting look over his shoulder to look at his boyfriend who watched.
He couldn't do anything.
He couldn't stomach the emotions that were choking him from his throat.
Tears still threatening to spill, (Y/n) wiped them away and hardened his glare, sucking in a breath to hold it as he watched Dmitriy suck in a similar hiccupped cry, stumbling as he was grabbed by his father and shoved into the building wall as they walked. Forcing his son's face to get destroyed by the building's wall as they walked while he yelled at him.
An angry half scream left Dmitriy as he tried to shove his father off of him, cursing at him to stop and to not touch him while his father yelled back at him for being "stubborn".
The pot stirring, (Y/n) felt his previous anguish dissolve, a thicker, more ominous layer of anger revealing itself as he took steps towards Dmitriy and his father. Taking a running start, he grabbed Dmitriy's father by the hair and yanked him back from his boyfriend, shoving him into the wall before (Y/n) raised a tense fist, Dambe, putting weight on his front leg and swinged his fist back, tensing it and shifting all his weight forward, hitting the older man in the side of the head. Watching him drop, he yanked Dmitriy to the side and pulled him away, stepping farther away, (Y/n) gently checked on his blonde, frowning as he littered the side of his head with kisses.
"Мне очень жаль, я должен был вмешаться раньше" (I'm sorry, I should have intervened sooner) (Y/n) panted from the adrenaline, reaching out as he cupped Dmitriy's face, trying to wipe away the blood that filled his hand and tainted his jacket. Dmitriy cried, clinging onto (Y/n) as he wailed "я. . ." (I. . .) he sobbed. His face was ruined, blood seeped down, he couldn't open his left eye from the blood that entered it, expression tight as he sobbed in pain and clung onto (Y/n) further who combed a hand through his hair, trying to pull it away from the blood while he kissed his cheek to comfort him. Dmitriy shook, leaning into the kisses as he tried to hide into (Y/n)'s jacket, words an incoherent mess other than profuse apologies and occasional "I love you"s.
"ТЫ-ТЫ БЛЯДЬ!!" (YOU- YOU FUCK!!) Dmitriy's father yelled, stumbling to get up, dizzy from the hit, blood pouring from where (Y/n) broke skin as it tainted his grey fleece jacket. The yell cause a commotion as people started to step out of stores to look at what was going on, staring at the scene.
Yelping, Dmitriy moved to glue to (Y/n)'s side. Holding Dmitriy to his side, (Y/n) sneered "Should've hit you harder, sorry about that." He stuck his tongue out, a hand around Dmitriy's shoulder, still wiping away some blood "I'm kind of sick of you, honestly, should've dealt with you all those weeks ago" (Y/n) scoffed towards the father, patting Dmitriy in a way of telling him to move back and take his jacket. Waiting for his blonde to do so, (Y/n) sighed and rolled his shoulders, turning to the old business man as he got into a fighting position.
"я чертовски убью тебя" (I'll fucking kill you) (Y/n) cursed, the threat being sealed when Dmitriy's father pulled out a small pocket knife. They had a deal.
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That was about two years ago, (Y/n) is now 18 and has lost contact with Dmitriy after the police had gotten involved. His father died last year in the hospital, telling him to pursue his passion in writing, to settle down and to finish his studies before moving on. . .
He was injured when (Y/n) wasn't around to help him, he had gotten ganged up on and-
. . .
"I can't keep doing this. . ." (Y/n) sighed, sitting in the airport of New York to head to South Korea, Seoul.
His father had suggested that he stay with a friend there and study there if anything happened. . . (Y/n) had joked that the idea of going to Korea to study was preposterous, but look at him now, ready to get on a flight to some school called J Highschool.
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1700 words
unedited