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napakmahal · 5 months

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“ Did all this happen because I left?”

Pause girlies because this is actually kinda serious. I just got out of a depressive episode and just really wanted to give the depression girlies a lil treat. Remember: you need other people in your life when you have depression. Make friends not resources. I love y’all (angst)

How can something be so painful yet so numb at the same time? The human brain is one of the most complex systems in the universe, aside from the universe itself. How it can feel so many polar opposite things simoultaniouly, and in that creating an entire civil war within itself. How could the brain, the thing meant to be in charge with your care and wellbeing one day just decide to decrease its own activity and make you miserable? It was the worlds greatest betrayal.

You’d been lying in your bed for the past week, and you might have gotten up twice a day. Once to use the bathroom and the other to get some food and bring it right back to your bed. Everyone said it wasn’t a big deal because you were young and you were probably just in a bad mood because of your hormones. Hormones were evil enough to suction blood from your reproductive organs (usually) once a month, they couldn’t possibly be cruel enough for this.

On your overheated and whirling computer was an endless loop of lousy reality T.V shows you’d watched over and over. There’s been therapists that have said that in these times of depressive episodes, you should revert back to adding some life and movement back into your brain. Which meant doing things like crossword puzzles, working out, math games, and reading 200+ page books. All things that you could totally do and things you liked to do. But not right now. Now all you wanted was junk food and shitty TLC shows. Not some slow burn, or some huge mystery TV show that required you to remember tiny details from the beginning of the season. Reality TV was entertaining, effortless, and on loop but you’d be lying if you said everytime you heard the freaky eaters intro a little more of your brain died.

That’s the funny thing about depression. Because even though you can feel yourself slipping and drowning in total misery, there’s nothing anyone can do to save you. So you get stuck in this endless loop of self detructive behavior hoping that the pain you experience on the outside is enough to kill the thing on the inside.

You were clinically depressed, and nothing nobody did was ever going to change that. But these episodes weren’t always like this. For a while, episodes were bearable. Your ‘friend’ made them better.

You’d known Hiro for a while, meeting him on the downtown bus during sunset on a spring saturday. You thought he was cool, he thought you were pretty. But the whole girlfriend-boyfriend thing seemed uncomfortable and the labels meade things weird.

Granted you were each others first kiss. The two of you had tried to convince each other it was just because you got asked out to your eighth grade formal and you wanted to be prepared. It also didn’t help much that the more you described the dude that asked you out, the more Hiro wished he hadn’t skipped all those grades.

You never told anyone about that. Sure you could say it was a one time thing but it was hard to use that as a defense when you’d made out with him because you were bored under the dock near the beach during the summer carnival, and when you were just playing video games in his room, and when you were sitting on the steps of the museum of Japanese artifacts while sharing a soda, and the time you two were at the skatepark after it closed and you two were making out- only except that time he’d taken off his jacket.

Sure you were both fifteen but you watched people make out in the hallways at school everyday. Kissing didn’t seem like this massive thing. Hiro grew up isolated from the true highschool experience, he didn’t know. All he knew was that making out with you was cool and pretending he only did it because he was bored (and not because he would swear on his teen hormones that he loved you) was even cooler.

His aunt and brother had liked to tease you for it, but that’s all it was: teasing. The two of you would never live down the torment you’d likey face if they found out about your “I’m bored, let’s make out” sessions.

Speaking of, your mom didn’t really know you and Hiro were like that. She was only partly sure you liked him and you only thought that because one day after she caught you being particularly smiley that night after having him over to stream a new song she came into your room, played with your hair and said: “So you and Hiro are friends? That’s nice, he’s seems nice. Just, make sure he doesn’t make it worse.”

That was also kind of a silly depression thing: People and their influence could make it worse for you, others, and even themselves. Bad influence already makes bad people, but bad influence on people with depression tends to make them miserable, desperate, and self loathing.

But contrary to what your mom had said, Hiro didn’t make it worse. He made it better and she would soon figure that out after you’d tried texting him multiple times despite knowing he was at an expo outside the city. And he’d respond as fast as he could with the best messages, but when he’d go dead silent for almost ten hours each day it just dampened your mood. You’d kept reminding yourself not to be selfish, that your lack of ability to be happy shouldn’t stop people from living their lives. But from the hours of 7 a.m. - 5 p.m. you were left with no friend and a fat headache.

——————————————————————————

The intro to a show you couldn’t remember the name of played for the tenth time that day, drying out your eyes and causing an endless headache. You were surprised you hadn’t at least gotten a stomach ache from all the Tylenol you’d been taking. Someone knocked at your closed bedroom door before gently opening it.

“Y/n,” Your mom squinted through the darkness of your closed blinds and at the glowing computer screen. “There’s someone here to see you.”

With your back faced to her you couldn’t say anything other than a low, “Oh.”

She left for a bit as you continued to lay there, helpless almost dead. Thinking about death is something everyone does up to a certain extent. Questions like: How will I die? What comes next? Are ghosts real? All normal.

But when you and people like you thought about death it wasn’t like when other people thought about death.

Suddenly, your door creaked open and you didn’t even have the energy to look back but you just knew. Hiro had looked around at your depression room and sighed. He hadn’t even been around you for more than thirty seconds and he already wanted to cry. This was bad- so bad. The boy gently crept up to your bed and sat down. You felt the dent of his body in your mattress and still didn’t move.

“How are you?” His voice was quiet.

You responded barely above a whisper, “Fine.”

“When’s the last time you left this room?”

You didn’t even reply. At that moment, breathing was too much work. Having to think about the air going through your lungs and exhaling it out was a chore.

Hiro leaned over your body and shut the laptop closed before moving it off your head and placing his body in it’s spot. You two were now face to face, laying on your bed like the lovers of valdaro. It was bad this time and everyone knew it. Guilt had been eating him alive since he read the shift in your texts. How could he enjoy himself at this expo while you were there suffering?

“Did all of this happen because I wasn’t here?” He whispered.

You grabbed onto his hand. “No. I’ve always been like this.”

“Do you promise?”

“I swear it.”

“But it’s never been this bad before. If I was here then-”

“You couldn’t have done anything.” You cut him off. “Hiro I’ve been like this all my life. And you shouldn’t feel obligated to hold yourself back because I’m not normal.”

Once while playing around at the park at midnight you told Hiro that a therapist you had said these episodes will wax and wane. In the good there will be bad and in the bad there will be good. But there would never be moment where it would just be good. You’d be this way for the rest of your life, sad, in pain, and left with a feeling of mania and worthlessness. And there was nothing he could do about it.

“Do-” Hiro’s voice started to shake and a tear from my eye scurred across his face. “Do I at least make it any better?’

The thought of making it better by being there would in turn make him feel a little less guilty about not being able to be with you all the time.

For the first time in a week, you gave him a weak smile. No teeth, just lips. Before you leaned forward and gave him a prolonged kiss. In return, he brushed your hair from your face and started petting your head.

“Yes,” You whispered. “You do.”

#baymax #big hero 6 #big hero six #hiro hamada #tadashi hamada #bh6 x reader #disney #fanfic #hiro hamada x reader #napakmahal

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mswyrr · 10 months

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“The Bear” 2x10 SPOILERS

“I don't need to provide amusement or enjoyment. I don't need to receive any amusement or enjoyment. I'm completely fine with that. Because no amount of good is worth how terrible this feels.“

This quote and the whole performance is one of the best examples I’ve seen in film/tv of the way anxiety and trauma can hurt internally enough that you’d rather try to be less alive--just cut off entire parts of life--than feel it.

He had two trauma triggers (Mom being invited and being in a situation that reminded him of the abusive chef) and boom. This hurts so much I don’t want to be here. I can’t stand being here. Michael killed himself; Carmy buries himself alive emotionally. That’s why he’s never had friends or dated before.

It’s a powerful depiction of mental illness and the like “was he being a jerk in x moment?” stuff doesn’t work for me. Because until he gets some help... uh, sadly, this is literally the best he can come up with to deal. It’s sad af but that moment where Sydney is like “well just don’t be shitty” and he’s like “oh, okay, I’ll just do that then” captures it: sometimes a person literally doesn’t know what better is and/or cannot physically get there because their brain/biochemistry is FUCKED and won’t let them any more than someone with an untreated broken leg can run a marathon.

And, sorry, no - Al Anon chatting with other family members of addicts is not anywhere near the same league as getting actual therapy. Though this show is right: a ton of Americans like Carmy work hard and yet cannot afford to access actual therapy. So they self-medicate with substances or engage in super fucked emotional numbing self-destructive behavior like Carmy is doing.* Other tools are literally out of reach - Which is pretty fucking ugly, huh? Though probably some of the right anxiety medication from an MD would help a fair bit if combined with the Al Anon meetings. But meetings alone cannot do it when there’s this clinical physical problem. Again: you can’t fix a broken leg with PT.** The PT comes after you’ve treated the physical damage.

*isolating yourself and denying yourself any joy in life is a form of self-harm

**and Al Anon isn’t even PT!! Therapy would be PT in this analogy and he can’t get to that because he’s broke

#my meta #the bear meta #the bear #carmen berzatto

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changenbirthenstein · 6 months

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Passing Grade

(TRANSFORMATION WARNING: Girl into Mermaid)

“What do you mean FAILING?!” I exclaimed, astonished.

If I was honest with myself, science had never really been my best topic. It had always seemed really cool, I’d WANTED to be good at it, but… even though I felt like I understood a lot of the classwork, I just couldn’t seem to do well on a single test, only getting a D at the highest.

Something always seemed odd with my papers, though. I could SWEAR I was getting the answers correct, but they always proved to be wildly off the mark, with no real explanation ever being given as to why it was wrong, or how I could have done better. I did well enough on in-class labs, but for some reason anything I had to turn in got totally panned.

I would have run it passed my classmates, but… well, I was somewhat isolated from most of my peers. I think it was because of my passion for studying aquatic life. There was so much fascinating life, in lakes and oceans, more than we had ever seen. So vastly different from everything that we knew on land, their experiences must be so different we couldn’t even hope to understand them.

But if I started talking about my interests, (and I didn’t have many beyond that…)I started getting excitable, talking too quickly for anyone to understand, I’d start getting flushed and breathless, and… everyone always starts laughing at me. So I stopped trying, stopped making the effort to make friends, immersing myself in my interests.

It was at times like this I regretted accepting my isolation. I couldn’t accept this grade, it would ruin everything. So I went to my teacher. Asked her what the problem was, if there was some way I could make up the grade. A smile so eager and vindictive met me that I was certain that I hadn’t failed for any honest reason, and this woman was entirely certain nobody would care if I told on them.

But what could I do? Just let myself fail? Even if I told my parents, or even the cops, they don’t have the power to change my grade. So, that weekend, I was in a sterile lab, naked and shivering, as all manner of unknown substances were injected into me, as my science teacher muttered incessantly. I could only assume it was her native language or something, whatever it was it definitely wasn’t English.

After it was over, I asked what, exactly, I was supposed to do. “Just let it all work its magic.” was the reply I got. “I’ll know if it worked by the end of the week. I’ll have those grades fixed for you by the time you come in Monday.”

Over the next week, I began to feel ill. Everything felt… wrong. At some point every part of me ached or felt out of sorts, and I began to get a strange, bloated feeling deep inside. That Friday, I began to get cramps, like I was having my period but… worse. Much worse.

I sat in science, biting my lip to stay silent as the pressure mounted and the squeezing, gripping pains mounted. Within minutes the woman who had forced me to help with her experiment had ordered quiet reading time, and called me out into the hall. Without a word, the science teacher gripped my arm, marching me through the school toward the pools.

Swimming season hadn’t begun, but there was always the chance some random people could walk through, as the pools were often used as shortcuts. Tugging me into the locker rooms, the wild-eyed scientist told me to strip, pulling out a two-piece bikini and helping me change into it.

It wouldn’t be the last time I felt exposed, humiliated, alarmed, or even the last time I would undergo an unexpected change before the day was over.

The cramps were getting so bad that I could barely stand when they came, and I could feel something pressing down impossibly hard. “It’s ok, all according to plan…” the manipulative scientist murmured soothingly, or at least in a manner she thought was soothing. Helping me stagger along as I panted, sweat running down my face, we neared the edge of the water.

Just before I reached the strangely inviting liquid, I let out a pained cry, another crushing pain overwhelming me. I felt something inside me give way, and suddenly a thick green goo began to run from between my legs, soaking my bikini and dripping down my thighs as I let out an agonized moan.

“What’s happening to me? I f-feel something…. Inside…” I begged, desperate to know what was going on, confused and scared as a bitter, salty scent began to permeate the air, the gooey substance oozing from my gender the source. “It’s… well, I didn’t want to upset you, but…” the woman who did this to me paused, taking a breath and gathering her thoughts as she started to help me into the pool.

“It’s… eggs. If I did this properly, if everything is working… You should have been gestating fish eggs. Or, well… a fish-like creature. It’s really quite fascinating, and knowing you I knew you would be thrilled to help, I just had to-“ “Ohhh there’s so much pressure!” I cried, as another contraction held me tight.

My cheeks burned with humiliation, tears welling in my eyes as I felt the need to bear down mounting. That explanation… all of this… I was pregnant. Even if my belly wasn’t very big, there was life inside me. I was here, in a bikini, about to give birth, with only this terrible woman to help. And worse, I was laying fish eggs. This was so much worse than I ever could have imagined, so much more shameful. I felt like I’d been sexually assaulted, my ability to create life being twisted to do something so abnormal, to give the gift of life to a bunch of animal babies.

I hung from the edge of the pool, resting in the shallow end, the water helping me feel lighter, making the contractions easier to deal with, even if they weren’t any less painful. “Just do what comes natural… you’re a girl, you were made to do this. And it’s not even like they’re proper babies… just eggs.” I opened my mouth to offer a scathing, bitter reply, only to let out a terrified cry as the first of my unwanted, inhuman children began to be born.

“It’s ok, just let them come… there’s nothing you can do to stop it now…” the deranged science teacher soothingly murmured, rubbing my back as my belly spasmed, the pressure within me spiking and the sensation of something pressing down on my cervix intensified. “I don’t want to do this, it huuurts!” I sobbed, the intensity of the sensations making this all the worse.

My teacher ignored that, instead telling me the one thing I wanted to hear least in the world. “Push. Push your babies out, come on, you can do it mommy…” Uttering another defeated groan, I held tight to the sides of the pool and bore down reflexively, opening my legs wide and feeling the first slimy egg slipping down my birth canal.

As it moved, a strange energy began to course through me. I’d felt it before, but nowhere close to this degree. “Something’s wrong! It… Nnngh… It’s my l-legs they’re… ahn!” “Shhh, don’t focus on that…” the treacherous woman cooed, continuing to run fingers along my spine. “The eggs. They need to be laid, for you AND for me. Everything else is secondary to that…”

I wanted more than anything to defy my teacher’s wishes, but the contractions wouldn’t stop, and my instincts left no room for argument. I felt my swollen feminine lips starting to bulge, the soft, goo-coated egg resting just behind my opening. My toes were curling, my legs were cramping, my knees and thighs burned and throbbed fiercely.

It was getting harder to hold my legs open, like somehow I couldn’t quite bend them as far as I used to be able to. My skin was burning and itching, and I could swear it looked like an odd rash was starting to appear beneath the water, spreading slowly over my flesh.

Then, once more, it was time to focus on laying the fish eggs that my professor had tricked me into gestating. I whimpered, feeling the lips of my girlhood bulging further, before slowly, painfully opening around the sticky, slimy membrane that made up my unwanted child’s shell.

My sensitive gender was sliding along my swim bottom, the sensation tingling up into my life-filled womb. It was a small pleasure in a world that felt tainted in every other way.

I could feel the fabric straining against my emerging offspring, pushing it back in as I stopped to rest. I had been so overwhelmed by my waters breaking, the sensations of labor and birth, I had completely forgotten to remove my bottoms. My cheeks burned as I realized I was going to lay this awful egg right into my clothing. But even as that sensation assaulted me, I was once more aware of the terrible wrongness coursing through my form, especially from the waist down.

My legs kept drifting closer together, and no matter how hard I tried I couldn’t force them apart. My feet were throbbing, cramping, my toes feeling like they weren’t just curling but… almost folding into my feet.

It was time to push, as the squeezing pain in my womb told me. I threw my head back, giving my all to getting this fish egg OUT of me. It was only the first of many, I could already feel the next one trying to squeeze through my cervix, but the one crowning was my main focus.

It slid forward as I struggled, my bottoms pressing further away from my body, the egg just firm enough to tug at the non-elastic fabric. And then… It was out. More greenish goo spurted from my sex and floated into the water, and my teacher hurriedly tugged at the string holding my bikini bottom in place, letting the egg float free as my clothes fell away, leaving me embarrassingly exposed.

“Hey, I wanted those, I don’t want anyone to see me…” I began, before realizing I was being ignored. The woman who tricked me into this was staring into the water, eyes latched on the small, luminescent ovum floating through the pool. Tears swam in her eyes. “I’ve done it… I’ve really done it… A real mermaid egg… I brought them back…”

“Wait…” I replied, stunned. “A mermaid? Like from the fairytales and stuff? That’s UNGH! Oh god the n-next one… nnnmmmph…” I went back to pushing, everything from my belly down pulsing with intense pain. Whatever was happening to my legs was getting worse, the weird rash looked like it was slowly spreading, and even my teenage slit was throbbing, feeling off. I tried to spread my toes as I pushed this time, hoping it would reduce the tight ache in my feet, but found I couldn’t. Indeed, they just seemed to curl tighter, become harder to move.

“Yes… a mermaid, just like the ones you’re thinking of. You’re not just carrying fish eggs dear, I’m using your body to form the eggs of human and fish DNA combined in a blend of science and something a touch less concrete. Just a dash of magic. I know, it’s hard to believe, but what else could have provided such perfect, flawless results?!”

This didn’t feel perfect and flawless. In fact, the more I thought about it… I looked down again, gasping in air after my latest birthing pain. That rash… the fact my legs were drifting closer together… And, now that I was looking down… my vagina. I could see it more easily that I should have been able to. Like it was shifting, moving up. I reached a hand down to my thigh, and gasped in horror.

I could feel them, under my flesh. The reason for the bizarre pattern appearing. Scales, resting just under my skin. And as once more I began to push, I could feel them pressing forward, starting to cut through their way out, little barely noticeable trails of crimson drifting from the wounds that formed as the textured coating at last started to make itself visible.

“No… nono, I’m a human girl, I don’t want this… please, do something, I don’t want to be a mermaid!” Panic built in my chest. I had to push again, but as I gave in to my feminine instincts I could feel the sensations within my legs intensifying. Pushing the mer-folk eggs from my body was causing the transformation to progress, but… there was no resisting, no denying my labor.

At this rate, I would be fully transformed in a matter of minutes.

“Help, please, I’m changing it huuurts…” I pleaded, feeling the next egg bulging as my vagina continued dragging along my body, gradually slipping forward and up. “You… oh my… you are, aren’t you?” my teacher asked excitedly, gently touching my trembling thighs as I struggled to pull them apart. “The magic part of the injections must be tampering with your DNA, making you a better host for them… Oh this is positively WONDERFUL!”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “N-no! It’s not wonderful, it’s horrible and I don’t want it and OHHH IT HUUURTS!!!” Another labor cramp, another instinctual push, and even as I tried to open my legs wide, they continued inching closer together, until at last they touched.

Immediately, the muscles began to spasm and burn, unbearable cramps racing through my legs as intense heat flared where the skin was touching. The malicious woman let out an excited gasp as she saw what was happening as I trembled at the terrible sensation. “I can hardly believe it… you’re going to become… oh my word… This is fantastic!”

As the manipulative educator excitedly noted my changes in a notebook withdrawn from a pocket, tears welled up in my eyes, escaping as I endured the awful sensations of my forced birth mingling with my changes. My thighs pressed harder against one another, fusing painfully as my toes curled impossibly hard, my feet flaring up as they started to shrink away.

Meanwhile, my feminine lips throbbed as the next egg came to a full crown. I could feel my girlhood sliding along my body, twitching and pulsing as it changed form. I looked down as my clit started to ache fiercely. My gender was losing definition as it moved, my labia thinning, and my sensitive nub flaring up as it shrank away. I threw my head back, screaming as my molten bead flared, my nerves letting out potent distress signals before dissolving into nothing, my poor pleasure button vanishing entirely.

I looked down once more to see that my formerly human gender had become a nearly invisible slit on the front of my groin, only visible because it was bulging forward slightly, another egg ready to begin crowning. As I struggled to process such an intimate part of me having disappeared, my vagina having become a fish-like cloaca, the rest of my body continued to eagerly take on its new form without slowing.

I once more had to push, more scales pressing from my skin as my teacher “oooh”-d and “ahhh”-d my condition. I could feel my bones straining, buckling, snapping and then dissolving away as my feet continued to shrink and fold upon themselves, my lower legs fusing as well. My feminine opening had become so much smaller, and pushing out the mer-folk eggs was much more difficult that it had been moments ago. I had to arch my back, holding the sides of the pool tight in order to open myself wider, now unable to spread my legs to help my labor along.

Little green plates were covering most of what used to be my legs, now looking more like an almost shapeless mass below my waist. Around my aching slit were softer, lighter colored scales, almost like it was my underbelly or something. With a final terrible stab of pain the remains of my feet finished withdrawing into my tail, and the last few gaps filled out with searing heat.

I could feel it now. I was so close to being done. The knowledge terrified me. Somehow, I knew once the changes finished… that was it. There was no going back. I would be a mermaid for the rest of my life, never to walk or run or open myself for a cute boy or… I sobbed, wanting the pain to end, but knowing once it did my fate would be sealed.

Another potent contraction forced me to throw my head back, crying out as I pushed, another strange egg popping from my new gender ax two terrible points of pressure blossomed into existence. Deep down, I knew what it was. Scales covered my tail, my vagina had been changed into a cloacha, there was only one more detail I could think of that I was missing.

I bore down, shamefully giving in to my instincts, rewarded with another squishy object starting to crown, and the feeling of my tailfin starting to push out. I looked down, seeing the thin substance unfurling like some sort of sped-up footage of a flower. The nerves flared to life inside my fin as it spread open, swishing gracefully through the water as I reflexively began to hold myself in place with graceful swishing of my new inhuman limb.

It was over. I could feel it. I had a tail now, something so many little girls had longed for, that I had longed for, wanting to swim with the fish I had always been so passionate about. I would spend the rest of my life like this, a freak of nature, only able to exist in the water. I was thankful that I at least could still breathe, and that the chlorine in the pool wasn’t toxic to me like it was to a lot of other fish.

I was still dripping with sweat, now a bit thicker and stickier than it used to be, coating my skin slightly as another gripping cramp raced through me. I may have finished becoming a mermaid, but there were still eggs in my tainted womb that needed pushing out.

Then, the bell rang. Panic flared through the terrible woman’s eyes, and she quickly began scooping up eggs and my disgusting amniotic fluid, snapping some pictures on her phone and inching toward the door. “Wh… ngh… where are you going?! You can’t l-leave me here like thIIISSS OHHH!” I once more had to give into the need to give birth, but could still hear the manipulative fiend utter a hurried “yes, well… you know… you are a MARVEL of science, but… I didn’t realize the time, and I didn’t expect you to change like this… I simply couldn’t bring you with me, too much noise, too clumsy… Don’t worry, people use this place as a shortcut all the time. Someone will find you, I’m sure. I… uhm… I just have to… go…”

With that, I heard running steps, and the door closing. I bellowed in effort and defeat, as I heard more footsteps from the other side.

They came in as another egg crowned. Everyone recognized me, and then they saw my new horrible tail, saw the child I was trying to deliver, the green liquid seeping from my laboring slit. I was babbling in a shamed panic, begging someone to get help, to get these eggs out, to somehow bring my legs back. Then, only to please, please look away as I arched my tail, sobbing that they not watch as, slowly, painfully, my inhuman gender parted with another soft fish egg.

I felt the need to keep going, the contractions overlapping as the last internal changes cemented themselves within me. I spasmed as the ovum popped out of my feminine opening, only to feel another already opening me. And another. And another. End to end, a stream of newborn mer-people streaming from my corrupted, genetically altered womb as all of my former classmates watched. Some frozen in shock, others laughing and jeering, some seemingly jealous, and a few squirming, clearly excited at what was unfolding before them.

Before any teachers showed up, hundreds of students were gathered around, watching their formerly human classmate laying egg after egg and begging for help.

My life as a human was over. I was a freak, my dreams ruined, with no idea how I was even going to live from here on, let alone how I could be happy.

#transformation #tf #egg laying #girl ti mermaid

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hxneyhxrts · 2 years

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Sun Bleached || Jake “Hangman” Seresin (part 8)

Part 7

note: not to be a broken record but you guys are amazing, my heart is so full. this is a pretty Gwyn-heavy chunk so here we go, sorry in advance. also there MAY or MAY NOT be another part posted tomorrow since i’ll be away from my computer all day but i’ll do my best soldiers. love you guys xx

warnings: explicit language, anxiety, very brief mention of death

Red

Two days.

It had been two full days.

Jake had not spoken to her even once except to tell her a quick “good job” after a particularly grueling series of drills. Beyond that, though, it was radio silent.

Gwyn had almost worked up the courage a few times to pull him aside and ask what was going on, but each time she opened her mouth to get the words out, she felt that tense air of isolation he had projected on to her for the past few days, and retreated.

Even her texts had gone unanswered. She had only sent two, just quick pictures of things she thought he might find funny like Coyote pretending to steal his helmet, but she had sent them only to be met with the taunting face of “delivered” and then nothing.

Even at their worst, when he had sought her out to scathe her and rile her up, he had still sought her out. She’d almost prefer that to this newfound cold shoulder he had thrust upon her so suddenly. And it hurt, she could admit that. Not just because she craved his approval as her squad leader. Because even if they weren’t together the way she selfishly wanted them to be, they were still friends. Not in the same loud and obvious way that she and Alec were friends, a relationship that had been forged through many late Summer nights and the intensity of finishing out the academy together. No, Jake’s friendship was different. His was Saturday mornings and Sunday evenings, socks on hardwood floors, sun bleached clothes left out on a laundry line for too long, cotton sheets that pulled off the bed corner with too much shuffling, the words “I heard a song that reminded me of you”, and every other little silly thing that just felt like Jake.

Everything that felt like home.

She could accept that she had messed up by letting her feelings develop into the absolute headache that they were, but she couldn’t accept that they weren’t friends. A sad, greedy part of her wouldn’t settle without him in some shape, however he would have her. She needed him in a way she hadn’t needed others before him, and if she couldn’t be with him, at least she could be close to him.

If he ever decided to speak to her again.

—-------

She hated her job. She did.

Top Gun had been hard enough, but applying everything she learned to real world simulations and fighting tactics was damn near impossible.

Well… not entirely.

Only when she was as distracted as she was.

Gwyn had made it through most of the dogfight unscathed, only by the grace of some higher power and Alec’s steady stream of “watch out!” every few minutes when she inevitably checked out again. But luck had run out once she made it to the final three, and Payback had gotten her before she had a chance to come to from wherever her mind had run off to.

“Gwyn, it’s fine,” Alec moaned, striding to keep up with her as she all but stomped across the tarmac back to the hangar. She was seething, angry with herself for letting this wild wave of emotions keep her from focusing in the air. It was not fine, not when it came to this.

She vaguely registered Jake and Payback dismounting from their planes, casually following behind them. She noticed Jake’s eyes cut to her briefly, even as he conversed with the other pilot.

Phoenix gave her a little wave from where she perched against a table in the hangar, and God everybody was here and everybody was looking at her. They saw her falling apart, they were watching her, and they just watched the absolute worst flight of her life. The best of the best and she had let herself be downed right in front of them.

“Gwyn, I’m talking to you!” Alec nearly shouted after her, and fuck, more eyes were turning in on her, and she hadn’t even fully crossed the tarmac yet.

“I don’t feel like talking right now,” she pushed out through her teeth that had clenched so hard she thought they might break. She needed to get inside and lock herself in the rec room for a bit. Anywhere, really, just for a moment to breathe. She could feel the physical weight of everyone’s stares as they bore into her, and God was there nothing else they could busy themselves with while she crumbled?

“You’re just having an off day. It’s not a big deal, Gwyn.”

She whirled on him, and it was as if the dam inside her had started to fracture. “Not a big deal? Is that what I should tell your mom when I let her know her son didn’t make it home because I was having an ‘off day’?” Panic coursed through her at the notion, and fuck they were still looking at her. She focused on Alec and his confusion and how it wrinkled his brow, but she could still see their curious gazes in her peripheral.

That internal dam fractured a tiny bit more.

Alec’s brow smoothed into a gentle understanding, and no, she didn’t want his understanding or his pity, she wanted to be left alone to figure this out. She wanted him to shout at her and call her reckless the way Jake had. She wanted him to upset her enough that it made her sharp, put her back on her feet so she could stop thinking about the tall blonde pilot who was still fucking watching her.

“Cheek, it was just a drill. You’re better than your flying today. I know that. I wouldn’t throw myself into your backseat every day if I thought otherwise.”

He didn’t get it. He didn’t understand what today meant.

She clenched her jaw, and turned. She couldn’t do this, not today.

“Gwyn!” Alec called after her, steps bounding behind her once more.

“I’m really not in the mood to have this conversation right now, Alec.” God why was it so hot today? Sweat was pooling above her lip and dripping down the back of her neck. Bob caught her eyes for a moment, flashing her a concerned look and Christ, they all saw right through her.

“Fine, walk away just like you always do. You’re getting pretty good at that, huh?”

If Gwyn thought the dam had fractured just moments ago…

This was it completely caving in.

She spun back on him faster than she thought herself capable of, and lunged at him. Hands caught her, several of them as she spat at her RIO. “Fuck you!” she shouted, watching as Alec recoiled slightly before smiling.

“There she is,” he smirked.

She was going to kill him. She pulled and yanked against the hands restraining her, aiming straight for Alec. To slap him or shout, she didn’t know. Her vision had gone almost white, only zeroed in on him and that stupid fucking smile he was wearing. He was baiting her. Riling her up enough to make her snap at him. He knew her better than anyone, knew what she needed sometimes.

It still didn’t make her feel good.

She thrashed again with renewed vigor until a stern voice cut through the shouts of those around her.

“Gwyn, enough!”

Jake.

She couldn’t look at him. Shame coursed through her at her behavior, and she settled down before she could make more of an ass of herself. Alec’s smile dissipated at her surrender, but it didn’t matter. She was already pulling away and stalking in the other direction.

—--------

In the end, it had been a supply closet she found her solace in. Time passed without her keeping track of it, and she only emerged when the sweat on her temples had dried and her flight suit became suffocating. From there, she slid down the corridor to the locker room where she isolated herself in a cold shower for much longer than she would willingly admit.

She was still tense when she finally pulled herself out from beneath the stream, but at least she was clean. At least she could think again.

It wasn’t right to lash out at Alec, and she knew that. He had been looking out for her in his own strange way. They fought, of course, maybe more often than people realized. But never like this. Never this intense or angry.

It was like she was on an island with her feelings, no one else around to see them or understand them or help her dissect them. She knew there was anger on that island with her, and maybe some confusion. Sadness for how she acted and how it had taken her completely falling apart for Jake to speak to her for the first time in days.

It just seemed unfair. To work for all of this so hard and screw it up over something as silly as her feelings. Unfair to Alec, who’d have to find another flight partner if she couldn’t get it together. Unfair to the team, who had welcomed her with open arms just for her to screw up at every turn. Unfair to Jake, who had only done his best to get along with her and created a monster out of her once she fell in too deep with him.

Maybe even unfair to herself, for closing herself off to all of these things until she had erupted.

She sighed. The day was long and awful, but in a few hours she could drag herself to a bar outside of the city and (now legally) drink away the lump in her stomach. She wouldn’t dare go to the Hard Deck, not when the rest of the team had all but conquered the corner of it. The last thing she needed right now was to face them and their questions and their concern.

She shoved her flight suit into the gym bag she had brought and made a mental note to throw it in the wash when she got home to rid it of the god awful anxiety sweat stench that had buried itself in the threads. She closed her locker with more force than necessary and went to busy herself for the next few hours until quitting time.

Maverick’s hand was still raised to knock when she pulled the door open.

“Mav,” she greeted, taken aback by his presence. The older gentleman smiled at her, but it was strained.

“Lieutenant Canadee,” he started. “Mind if we talk real quick?��

This was it. She was getting fired. Or grounded. Or having her wings stripped. She had fucked this up so badly that they were taking her out before she fucked it up further.

She thought about Alec and how hard he had worked and how many chances he had taken on her and how he was going to be stuck with some randomly assigned pilot who didn’t know the kind of dynamic he excelled under. She thought about her brother, the commander who’d have to answer for her and why she had been stripped of her rank and how it reflected on him.

She even thought about Jake and how she wished she could take it all back. All of it.

The cold bite of the necklace around her throat grounded her and tore her apart all at once.

As if sensing her worry, Maverick spoke again. “Nothing bad. Just wanted to check in.”

Her chest relaxed, but only slightly. She leaned against the doorframe in an attempt to look casual when she felt anything but. “Sure. What’s up?”

The captain glanced around the hallway before turning back to her and lowering his voice. “Everything okay? I heard you had a bit of a blow up with Shaw today.”

She swallowed. Of course he had found out somehow. “I’m good,” she croaked out. “Just got a little fired up I guess. Alec and I can push each other’s buttons from time to time.” She paused, trying to gauge the look on his face. “Today just wasn’t my day.”

Pete nodded, and there was that infamous understanding he seemed to carry with him like a weapon. Always seeing exactly what someone on his crew was feeling and sympathizing with them. “That’s alright,” he assured. “Happens to the best of us. Just wanted to make sure it wouldn’t be a problem moving forward.”

Gwyn bristled at the hint of warning she sensed in his words. “Of course,” she ground out. “It won’t happen again.”

The captain sighed, clearly picking up on her defensiveness, and settled his hands on his hips. “I’m not trying to get on you, Gwyn. Seresin just asked me to talk to you to see if-”

“Wait, Jake sent you?” she clipped, brow furrowing.

The older man’s mouth snapped shut as if he hadn’t meant to say anything. Her heart started beating in her ears. Blood swept across her cheeks, painting them pink.

Jake had sent him to talk to her. Jake had Maverick speak to her because he didn’t want to.

She was marching away from the other pilot before she could process the rage that enveloped her. She could hear Maverick shout after her, but she was too far gone, too angry to stop. Her feet carried her around the hallway corner and right to the men’s locker room.

She shoved the door in hard enough that it smacked against the wall, loud enough to startle the small group of males gathered inside. Her focus immediately snagged on Jake in the center row of lockers.

“You’re sending Maverick to do your bidding now?” she hissed, voice echoing through the small space and making Hangman’s mouth drop open.

“Gwyn,” he started in shock, and the sound of her name in his mouth after so many days of completely ignoring her only fanned the flame of outrage burning in her head. “This is the men’s-”

“You send Mitchell to talk to me instead of doing it yourself? I thought you were our fearless leader, Seresin,” she spat, pushing past Bradshaw who had tried to stop her advance with an arm around her waist. She shoved him off and glared at Alec who made to step in.

“Gwyn-”

“I’ll deal with you later,” she snarled at her RIO. Alec swallowed, but backed off.

“Guys,” Jake started, addressing the other men who had gathered. “Give us a minute, would you?”

The group shuffled out quickly, Alec remaining for a moment longer than the rest to look at Gwyn warily before he ducked out.

Then they were alone.

Jake’s fists were clenched. “If you think for a second, that I’m going to allow you to just walk in here and shout at me in front of the rest of my team, you are-”

“Would you have listened to me any other way?” she bellowed back, chest heaving with every breath. “You’ve been ignoring me for days! I get if you’re mad at me, but goddamn-”

“I’m not mad at you,” Jake interrupted, his posture stiffening. “I just-,” he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I just needed some space.”

Gwyn scoffed. This was ridiculous. He was trying to push her off again.

“You only need space from someone when you’re mad at them, Seresin.”

“Stop calling me that,” he hissed. His eyes held something like hurt as he regarded her closely. “Just stop.”

Gwyn’s hands flexed at her sides. She wanted to scream. She wanted to shout and say all of those terrible things she thought about him when they first met. Wanted to hurt his feelings the way he had hurt hers and leave him to stew in it the way she had.

“I’m sorry,” she blurted instead. Jake opened his mouth to speak, but she pushed on. “I shouldn’t have taken the plane out without checking in with you. I should've waited until the control tower techs got here, and I’m sorry.”

Jake scrubbed a hand down his face, looking every bit anguished as she was. “Cheek, I don’t care about the goddamn flight.”

“Then what are you mad about?” She was getting desperate now, her voice bordering on hysteric, and God she wanted to cry.

“I’m not mad,” Jake insisted tiredly.

“Then what is your fucking deal-”

“I think I’m in love with you.”

The air stilled. Time had stopped. The silence between them held its breath, too.

Gwyn’s mouth had parted, the words hanging in the air and it was like she could see them, floating in the space in front of her and mocking her.

I think I’m in love with you.

She couldn’t speak. She tried, but no words came out.

Life was cruel in the way it teased her. In the way it would whisk her through the last few days and give her this moment in a men’s locker room as the finale to her grief.

I think I’m in love with you.

Jake’s mouth thinned into a stern expression. “I’m sorry.”

And God, he was sorry? He was sorry for voicing the very thing she had been praying he’d give her for weeks now, and now that she had it, she could only gape at him stupidly.

It was everything she had wanted, and she panicked at how easy it felt to think about falling into him. How easy it would be to throw away her resolve and chase after this feeling headfirst and foolish. How easy it would be to wake up to him as golden sun poured in through the window and traced their silhouettes delicately.

It was that easiness that scared her. That had her throwing up makeshift barriers on all sides while her brain scrambled for something to say.

“Say something,” Jake pleaded, almost whispering.

She couldn’t. Not without giving in to him.

And giving in to him just wasn’t something she could afford to do.

Not when she had spent so many years pushing to be better. Not when Alec had faced months of mockery for tying himself down to the only female pilot in the whole program, never once doubting her to get them through it. Not when Mo’s eyes had lit up when she finally told him about her stories from Top Gun, and her dad had nearly wept with pride. Not when Jake had spent years perfecting his flying to get to where he was, and throwing herself into the middle of it would surely wreck it. All of it.

Gwyn had the mental image of a carefully constructed tower, wobbling and shaky, but still standing on the back of her work, every building block relying on the next one. She saw it nearing collapse as Jake’s every word chipped away at the foundation of it, and how it would all come tumbling down if she let it.

So no.

She couldn’t.

She opened her mouth to tell him as much, but still, no sound came out. She swallowed. Once. Twice.

Then she turned on her heel and left without another word.

—--------

This hurt so much worse than any breakup she had ever been through. Worst of all, this wasn’t even a breakup, not really. This was her putting an end to her foolishness.

She wished she could be a fool.

Gwyn wanted nothing more than the privilege to do away with all of it and call Jake. She’d call him and apologize and he’d laugh and then they’d be fine and she’d have everything she really wanted.

She didn’t.

She wrapped herself in an old quilt her grandmother had made years ago, the fabric soft and worn against her skin, and took up her place on her couch alongside Disco. She paged through different movies, finally settling on some 80s movie about naval pilots her dad had loved and that had sparked her interest in flying in the first place.

Disco snored away next to her softly, and Gwyn had almost lost herself in the movie when a knock rang out through her house. With a sigh, she dragged herself out of her nest and trudged to the door.

It was Alec on the other side, a small bouquet in his hands and apology written across his features. He took one look at her and half-smiled. “Hey lovey.”

“Hi,” she whispered, clutching the quilt around her shoulders tighter.

“Can I come in?”

She was crying as she nodded, jerky and desperate for her friend, and he swept her into a hug while she wept into his shoulder.

He rubbed her back soothingly, shushing her cries gently and kissing the top of her head. “I know.”

He knew. Of course he did.

“I saw Seresin as I was leaving. I kinda figured…” he trailed off as her sobs heightened. “It’s okay,” he whispered. “I got you.”

He held her for a few more minutes, content to stand in her doorway while she cried, before pulling back to look down at her. Gwyn could feel how red and puffy her eyes were, and Alec was smiling at her when he spoke again.

“Tell me all about it.”

Part 9

taglist: @rachelccollier @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @the-winter-marvel33 @barbiewritesstuff @dilfsandtherapy @dempy @itevilhag @supernaturaldawning @katesmadness

#jake hangman seresin #jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #hangman top gun #jake hangman x reader #top gun maverick

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grippingbeskar · 2 years

Text

The Element of Surprise | Epilogue

Epilogue: The Smile

mando x fem!reader

series masterlist here

word count: 5k ish

warnings: swearing, minor sexual themes/alluding to mxf at the end,

a/n: omg. okay so it’s over like for real now. i can’t believe i’m leaving this lil series behind, but what a journey. I have loved every single second of it - thankyou all for ur luv and support seriously. weather u are reading this as i post or ages from now, just know u have made one girls life a whole lot happier :) love you. so much. also shout out to mando for being sexy as fuck!!

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

“I can’t believe this is real. Like, real life.” You say, probably for the thousandth time walking through an isolated part of the Naboo forest.

Just saying that makes you dizzy. You were on Naboo; the planet that forever seemed so out of reach. It was the place you used to dream of as a kid, and one you worked so hard to get to, fixing up a broken down ship on Tatooine. You never in a million years would have thought this would be the way you would get here, but you don’t think you could have dreamt up a better situation.

Din trails right behind you, one worded answers floating gently through the modulator as he directs you. He clearly has a destination in mind, because you have been turning in seemingly random spots for almost an hour. You don’t care, you would walk aimlessly through the entire forest; taking in the impossibly green trees, the soft crunch of fallen leaves under your feet, still thick and alive even after breaking off the branch. You can hear the low flowing of water somewhere in the distance. It is so serene; after everything that has happened in the past few days you could almost fall asleep right here if you weren’t so excited.

And nervous.

You were fairly distracted with everything around you, little squeaks and snaps of twigs sending your head spinning to find whatever little creature had ventured near, but it was in the back of your head. You were going to see him today. He was nervous too - you could feel it in the air, how he was on the day before he left. He isn’t particularly talkative with anyone but you, so you know his small answers and slow, shuddering breaths come from anticipation.

You, at his request, had put on that flowing red dress you stole on Coruscant, and you can feel his eyes burning a hole in the back of your head from how much he was staring. He hardly got the words out; a stifled “so kriffin’ pretty” mumbling through the helmet as he ran his hands down your body when you showed it to him. In any other circumstance you wouldn’t have made it off the ship - but this day had a promise at the end, one you couldn’t wait much longer for.

The kid was tumbling through in front of you, blazing a path as he scared away all the critters hiding in bushes. You were starting to smile at him, watching as he ran as fast as his little legs could carry him off to the right chasing something when two gloved hands came up over your eyes, plunging you into darkness.

“Di-“

“Shh. Keep your eyes closed, okay? We’re nearly there.” You nod, even though you want to suck in as much of this planet as possible, the only thing you want more is to be with him.

Your stomach was turning into knots as he began to lead you to the right, twisting and turning as if you were going underneath something. The sound of water was getting louder, and you felt the temperature drop a little, just for a second before Din stood you back up straight and turned left.

“Should of worn this dress all day. Every day.” You blush under his hold as he murmurs in your ear, the kids giggles off in the distance.

“You just like that you can see my ass when I bend over.”

“Mhmm. Nearly there.” His voice is a little shakey, and his nerves are somehow radiating into you. Stars - this was the moment you had thought about. Realistically, if you had never seen his face, never been able to have this moment with him, you would have been content. It wasn’t who he was under the mask that mattered to you, it was who he was. Period. He was everything you needed, and if it meant you could never look him in the eye, never seen his smile or know if his eyes close when he laughs - you would of been okay with that.

But now the moment is right here. Din stops walking, two gloved hands on the back of your shoulders as he puts you in position. This moment - all your questions are going to be answered, all the nights you spent wondering if he had a beard, how long his hair was, if he smiled more than you imagined. Everything would be laid bare, at your feet. Your knees were starting to shake.

“Okay - you can open your-“

“No! Wait - I need to-“

“My helmet’s still on.” He laughs, the slow trickle of water a calming background. You take a second to sink into the moment, hearing his laugh, how he spoke and how his voice was a little higher in pitch when he was smiling. The water sounded like a lake, maybe a small river, and in the distance you could hear trickling, maybe the mouth of the river to your right.

Opening your eyes, it would be the second most incredible thing you would see today. Din had led you through a small cave, cutting you off from the open landscape of the forest. To your right a tiny waterfall had formed naturally over smooth rocks, and you were surrounded by rocky walls, seemingly shooting up into the trees.

Vines were growing out of them - no, through them, and tiny little lights were interspersed into the rock background. Almost all the light from the day was shadowed by the giant rocks, so the light bugs glistened and casted a brilliant glow. It was dark enough to give the illusion of sunset, and the area was isolated enough to eliminate any possibility of a passerby, but you know Din had made a conscious decision for it to be light enough. Light enough to see him.

“Oh, Din.” You breathed, spinning around in your little spot. You wanted to lay down and stay here forever, melt into one of the cracks in the rocks and watch this place all day, how the water gently flowed between you and the other side of the cave, the echo making you feel completely out of the galaxy. Like it was just you and him. And the little baby, who was currently standing halfway down the river, trying and failing to catch fish.

He hadn’t said anything, just stood in front of you with his hands by his side. Waiting. When the pure awe of the place around you began to subside, you watched as the rise and fall of his beskar-plated chest began to get a little faster, and you brought your hands in front of you, twiddling with your thumbs.

“Hi.” You say and step a little closer, everything melting away but him.

“Hi.” He breathes out. “It’s - I thought you might like it here. Pretty.”

“It is.” You can’t look away. Not matter how gorgeous the scenery is, you know what’s coming, and you can’t look away. You take another step forward and have to lift your head a little to look at him.

“I meant it. I really like this dress.” His gloved hand comes up and runs a soft line over your collarbone, skipping over the small straps holding the dress to your body. No matter how many times you sleep next to him, how many lude things he whispers into your ear while he slides into you - you don’t think anything would have de-sensitised you to this moment. You’ve seen him naked, touched every part of his body and said things to him that make you blush to even think about - but here he was, standing fully clothed and telling you he likes your dress, and you were practically crumbling.

“I stole it.” You remind him, and he laughs again. “Is it okay that I’m nervous? Like - not because anything will like change - wait, it will change, not that this isn’t a huge deal to me but I just-“

“Hey.” Both of his hands come up to your face, silencing you. “It’s okay. We can do this as fast or as slow as you want. Or not at all.”

“No! I want to. Please don’t think I don’t want to.” Din nods, keeping your face in his hands. You relax, knowing as long as he’s touching you the moment hasn’t come and you can breath. “How does this usually go?”

“No clue. Never done it.” You huff out a laugh.

“Be serious.”

“I am always serious.” Rolling your eyes, your hands come over his on each side of your face.

“Please.” You whisper, and he nods. You think he tries to clear his throat and his spine straightens up. His hands shake ever so slightly underneath your own.

“I never - nobody ever goes, if it happens. I had only known of one time it happened, before I left. Both were Mandalorians, had been for life. They went off planet for a few days, and when they came back, their sleeping quarters were combined. That was it.”

“Seems… simple?” You don’t know what you were expecting, but it is almost fitting. Din is not an elaborate man. He wears the same clothes, keeps the same ship. Only spends credits where he has to. You aren’t either - years on Tatooine made you appreciate the small things. A huge ceremony doesn’t fit the both of you. This - being completely alone bar the kid wandering in the distance, this seems right.

“It’s whatever you want it to be.”

“We. We want it to be. You do still - you can change your mind, if you don’t want…” The very idea makes you want to burst, so your glad he swoops in and squashes any lingering confusion.

“I want you to see.” His hands drop from your face and you hold your breath.

“Wait.” He doesn’t move, just stands still, helmet never moving from your eye line. “I just want you to know that I - I don’t care what you look like. I mean, I do care, in the way that I want - want to see you, but it doesn’t matter what you look like.”

Din says nothing, but you see him swallow and the slightest nod moves his helmet downwards. He takes a deep breath like he’s about to go underwater.

“I’m going to…” His hands come up to his helmet and it all becomes so real. You never would have thought this would happen - you didn’t think this was a real thing. You can feel the butterflies in your stomach swirling and it’s similar to the first time you went into hyperspace, although you are really hoping you don’t throw up this time. “Are you - is that okay?”

“I want to see you, Din Djarin.” Without another second of hesitation, he takes off his helmet and the soft glow of the cave lights up his face.

He was beautiful. It’s the first thing you think. His hair was curly - you knew this because you have had it between your fingers a thousand times. It was squished down a little, but when he took his helmet all the way off and slung it under his arm, he shook his head and the curls fell out, brown strands only long enough to hang near the top of his ear.

Your eyes went down to his forehead, slight creases began to form at the facial expressions you have no doubt he can’t hide under the helmet. His skin was a little lighter than the rest of his body, but the same tanned complexion spread down his face. No freckles that you could see, not really. His face wouldn’t get a lot of sunlight, so you should have crossed that out.

You couldn’t look at his eyes. Not yet. Even now, when you had waited so long, you knew if you looked into his eyes you would get lost and not appreciate the rest of him, so you drifted down, seeing the hard line of his nose. It looked as if it may have been broken once or twice - probably in training, and your heart fluttered because it was a little crooked and so damn perfect you wanted to kiss it.

His jaw was strong. Hard. You have felt it under your fingertips but it hadn’t done him justice. Nothing would now that you can see him. His jaw was covered in a beard, short but noticeable. You wonder when he shaved last, and how you would get to see it in all its stages.

His mouth was its own entity. You couldn’t stare at it and not think about seeing it in action. Kissing your lips, your neck. Watching as he looked up at you and his mouth attached to your breasts, your stomach as he moved down. Watching how it was possible his mouth was so skilful between your legs. The idea of getting to see it, watch as he buried himself into your pussy, lips and tongue and teeth unwinding you from the inside.

Maker - it was his eyes next. You knew. It was like you were denying yourself - a lesson in delayed gratification. You couldn’t wait any longer though. It was the final piece of the puzzle. The real full mystery revealed.

He was staring at you. His eyes were wide - brown eyes - and he was looking at you. Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful. He couldn’t hide his reaction to looking in your eyes - you knew he wouldn’t. He can be so stoic and blank under that helmet but you knew he would be an open book under there. He’s never had to worry about someone reading him, until right now. You can tell it makes him nervous, but you hoped not uncomfortable. It’s then that you realise you’ve been staring for five minutes and haven’t said a fucking word. You go to open your mouth, but he interrupts.

“You don’t have to say anything.” His eyes flick up to you, then to the side once. Stars - seeing him like this. His face, every quick twitch of his eyebrow or when he blinks - everything is so fascinating you don’t register his words until you realise what this expression means. “I know it’s not what-“

“Can I touch you?” His mouth opens a little and you see a hint of teeth. A promise of a smile if you played it right. Your face was hot under his gaze, and he nods once. Keeping his eyes on you. His brown eyes.

You reach your hands up and pull him close to you, as if you need to examine every inch of him like he has done to you, the mere idea of any part of him not burnt into your memory physically painful. You run your thumbs over his eyebrows, and you give in to that urge. You lean in, and press a light kiss to his nose. He sighs, and you see it up close. His mouth kicks up on the right side just a little.

“You are fucking gorgeous, Din.” His eyes are still so wide, and at the compliment you can see him process it. Eyebrows come together, the creases in his forehead revealing themselves. You watch as his head tilts, and how his hair falls to the side when he does so. It’s all so overwhelming - he was so human like this, it was always your favourite part of being alone; how vulnerable he allowed himself to be. Him without his armour. Just Din. Perfect - beautiful.

You leaned forward to kiss him lightly. So light that it was hardly a kiss. Both of you let your eyes drift closed just for a second, but then you pulled back, taking his face in your hands and looking at him again. Etching him into your memory.

You go to tell him that you love him. That you have never loved a person in this way - you have never felt something this strong. You can’t put it into words, saying ‘I love you’ does not communicate the all encompassing feeling he emanates from you. You feel the Force inside of you twisting to the surface, and for a second you think it might knock you off your feet from the strength. Until you feel the warmth of it, and how it feels like everything you want to say.

You watch as Din sucks in a breath and you try to stifle the impact of your feelings as they rush around him, the Force sending him all the words you can’t find. You know it can be a lot - the kid has done it more than once, but you also know how much it can say - say everything all at once. You see flashes of him; every night since you met him and the days in between swirling together in a picturesque slideshow, and the warmth and safety that came from being by his side. You let him see; let him see every part of your soul like he is letting you see every part of him, so you can both bare the exposure of yourselves, because he wasn’t alone. Not now, now you had seen him, and neither had you.

“I see you.” You whisper and everything stops. You don’t know if you should kiss him or just keep staring at him. He decides for you, and presses his forehead to your own, keeping his eyes on you. His eyes. You don’t think you’ll get used to looking at them.

You don’t know how long you stand like that, just looking at him like he’s a shooting star that has stayed around for too long, wondering when he was going to disappear but trying to enjoy every second of it. You only look away - no, tear your eyes away when you hear a familiar squeal running up behind Din.

He turns his head and his hair flicks across in a sweep. It was thick and moved when he did. The kid had half a fish shoved down his throat, and by the time Din bent down to scoop him up, he had swallowed the whole damn thing. That’s when it happened.

Din smiled. A giant, toothy grin that seemed equal parts foreign and fitting on his face. His eyes almost shut when he laughed at the kid squirming in his arms, and it knocked the wind out of you. His whole face lit up. You imagined every time on the Crest when he laughed, that this was what was underneath that helmet.

“You have a nice smile.” You managed. It was not enough - nothing would be enough. Nice smile, no he had the most incredible smile in the galaxy and he deserved to know-

“No one’s ever told me that before.” He was looking at you, and the kid had gone still in his arms.

“You do. A - You are the most gorgeous person I have ever seen.” He rolls his eyes and the kid squirms away, running back down the stream. Rolls his fucking eyes. You think you might faint.

“You-“

“I’m fucking serious. You - Maker, Din. You’ve seriously been looking like this, this whole time?!”

“I guess I have.” He was blushing. Stars - your stomach was in knots, and a familiar heat began to swirl in your stomach. You wanted him to blush, you wanted him hot, wanted to be the reason his face rushed in heat; because you were making him feel loved.

“That is practically an intergalactic crime.” He laughs again, but quickly recovers and wraps his arms around the small of your back, pulling you close.

“I thought you might - might not… like- like what you see. I-“

“Din, it would never matter what you looked like. I told you-“

“I know, but -“ His eyebrows screw together. He was concentrating. You wanted to kiss his forehead but you couldn’t move in his hold. “When I first saw you - I always thought you were pretty. Gorgeous - I-I could hardly think when you were around. I just wanted - I wanted you to see me. And like it.”

“I can’t believe you.”

“What?” A curl falls in front of his face as he catches your eyesight. Wide eyes return your own, and you feel weak in the knees.

“You do this for me, take the most sacred thing about you and lay it at my feet, and you were worried about if I liked it?” You were smiling but a tear fell down your cheek. You could see the twitch in his cheekbone as he swiped it away. Minuscule details you would get to recognise now.

“Yes.” He replies simply, and you kiss him.

Slowly, but crushing. You close your eyes but you can picture him, those thick eyebrows and those fucking lips against your own. Somehow you pull away but he doesn’t let you get far, keeping you pressed into his chest. The only thing unarmored was his face - it was strange, but it was now your new favourite thing.

“I really want to say something but I don’t want to minimise what this means to me. You know that - that this is everything. That you trust me this much and-“

“I know. I- I felt in. In your Jedi thing.” Your heart swells, and you kiss him once more. “You can tell me anything, cyar’ika.”

“You are so fucking sexy.” He starts to laugh, you can feel it against your chest, and the unmodulated sound echos around the cave completely surrounding you. He keeps laughing as he buries his face into your neck. “You are.”

“Mhmm.” Your face was against his, and you didn’t have to keep your eyes shut tight or turn away. You could stare all you liked; unabashed.

“I am serious.” He just shakes his head and leans in to kiss you. “Sexy.”

“Please stop saying that.” He smiles, kissing your nose, and you kiss his right back.

“Nope. Never. You are sexy - and you must be told.”

“Yeah?” He breathes and you are so enveloped in staring at him you don’t notice the change in his tone.

“So fucking sexy.” His eyes get - darker? No, that’s not possible. You have been watching his eyes since they were revealed and they remained that honey brown colour, but it was something about his expression. For a second, you think he might be angry - but then his hand snakes up between your bodies and grips your jaw lightly. He kisses you again, and you know what this is. You melt into it, and suddenly you are in the air, lifted into his arms and limbs wrapping around his body.

“I love you.” He murmurs into your mouth, and you all but moan when he says it.

“I love you.” You can feel his smile, and you pull away to look at him. “So fucking hot. I mean it’s unfair you look this good after having your head in a helmet all day.”

“That’s just-“

“If you don’t start taking my compliments, I’m gonna tie you down on the ship like I promised and show you just how fucking sexy I think you are until you believe it.” You bite his bottom lip after you speak, and you can feel the muscles underneath you tense. He groans and refuses to let you go, just turns and begins to walk through the exit of the cave, calling for the kid to hurry up.

You laugh as he starts to run, the cave entrance disappearing into the woods behind him, and his quickly shoves the helmet back on practically sideways as he sprints along the path. You were squealing in his arms, and yelped every time he jumped over a branch or changed direction. The kid was close, just in front as he zipped through the air finding the ship quite a while before you both did, you still clinging to the back of Dins armour.

As soon as you reached the ship, you saw the kid was already passed out on the floor. Din bent down to place him in the crib, still keeping you in his arms before racing up the ladder nearly knocking your head off in the process. He took you straight into your shared room, a tiny little hole in the wall that held everything you kept dear. Well, it did as soon as Din carried you inside.

He laid you down, and took off his helmet first. Usually, it was the last thing to go, and you were already in darkness when it happened. You have never actually watched it happen, how he has to click off a few latches underneath the sides before it comes off, and the hiss that you always hear isn’t so much a seal, but the air coming out from inside.

It doesn’t take long for you to both be completely bare in front of each other in the broad daylight of Naboo’s sun streaming in the small window. You can’t take your eyes off him the entire time, and you make good on your promise of making him feel sexy. Loved. Wanted.

You spend hours there, learning his facial expressions when you go down on him, and watching how he lets go completely under your gaze. He never blinks away, never hides his face - just lets you watch him like he watches you, in complete admiration.

When he finally slides inside of you, you savour the image of your hands on his face, his lips slightly apart and his eyes half lidded as he sighs your name over and over.

You tell him what he looks like, how good he is, how incredible he makes you feel until that redness comes back through his tanned skin and he’s shouting your name - not into darkness, but into the day, and when he kisses you as he shatters, it feels exactly how it should. Exactly how it always has and always will. Like home.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

taglist!! (thanku lovely ppl. u r all the best)

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#mandalorian fic #mandalorian x reader #mando x reader #mandalorian x y/n #mandalorian smut #mando smut #mando fanfiction #mandalorian fanfic #mando x y/n #mando x you #mando fluff #the mandalorian x y/n #the mandolorian x reader #the mandalorian

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skyloftian-nutcase · 2 years

Note

Legend and the flu? Except he's a sad boi who can't sleep unless someone tells him a story like his Uncle used to whenever he was sick

Trying to get Legend to accept story time is like trying to pull teeth... unless he just feels that bad.

(Click to read on AO3)

Legend hated his life.

Groaning, the veteran squinted and shoved his face into his pillow in a pitiful attempt to alleviate the sinus pressure in his head. His entire body was hurting like he’d been stepped on by an iron knuckle and then clubbed by a moblin so hard he’d be as flat as a painting.

Grumbling and moaning again, Legend rolled around once more in his bedroll, trying and failing to get comfortable.

The crickets were too loud. The fire was too bright. Everyone was too present around him, even though the entire group was asleep save for whoever was on watch.

This was day two. Hour thirty-nine. He’d kept count. Because every single second was agony.

Yesterday he’d felt a little under the weather, but it hadn’t been enough to really stop him. It hadn’t been until dinnertime that he’d finally accepted something was indeed terribly wrong. Warriors, Four, Time, and Sky had immediately honed in on him, essentially announcing his illness to the entire group. The captain had placed Legend’s bedroll near the center of camp and had told everyone else to go to the periphery, insisting on “isolating” so nobody else would get sick, and then brought him his dinner while Four sat at a distance to keep him company as he ate. Sky had loaned him extra blankets, and Twilight had supplied a bowl of water and rags, dabbing one on the veteran’s forehead despite Legend’s vehement protests.

Worst of all, Wild and Hyrule had climbed into the tree just above where Legend was situated, so they were literally hovering over him.

The camp had settled after Warriors disinfected everything with alcohol, soap, and water. Legend had been left to rest, but instead, he’d spent the entire night tossing and turning.

Much like tonight.

He just couldn’t get comfortable. He couldn’t relax. Everything hurt, he felt so utterly miserable, his chest felt heavy with congestion, and his stomach had been uneasy since breakfast. Although he’d thankfully not thrown up, it still felt like it was just teetering at the edge, as if his stomach were quaking with anxiety and debating if it should take the plunge or not.

Groaning for probably the hundredth time, Legend twisted again, now so entangled in the blankets provided for him that he cracked his back unintentionally, ringing himself out. It gave him a bit of relief, honestly, but now he was frustrated that his legs were stuck.

He hated being sick.

The grass crunched softly as it was pushed down by heavy footsteps. Legend squeezed his eyes shut in an effort to ignore it.

“Veteran.”

Sighing heavily, Legend twisted again, getting even more tangled, and saw Time staring at him. “You need something, Old Man? I’m a bit busy.”

“Yes, I see how busy you are,” Time noted, his smile softening the concerned crease of his eyebrows. “Would you like to try some tea? I know a special blend that I was given when I couldn’t sleep.”

“Oh, look who’s an herbalist now,” Legend huffed, frustrated and hurting and exhausted. He supposed he should be accepting, trying anything to actually get to sleep, but his stomach probably wouldn’t allow it anyway.

“I dabble,” Time replied nonchalantly, unphased by the barbs thrown in his direction. “What usually helps you sleep?”

Legend harumphed loudly, crossing his arms and looking away.

“If pouting helps you sleep, you would have already been out by now, Vet.”

Legend spluttered, “What?! That’s not—look, if you have to know, my uncle used to tell me stories when I had trouble falling asleep!”

Oh. Oh, no. No, no, no he did not mean to say that out loud.

Great.

Yes, Legend did, in fact, hate his life.

Time hummed thoughtfully, and Legend heard him settle against the tree beside him.

The veteran hero knew where this was going. “Old Man, I swear to Hylia herself that if you so as even think about telling a story, I will torture you for a week.”

Time raised an eyebrow. “Is that a challenge?”

Legend didn’t know what to say. He’d seen the man be silly once or twice, but it still caught him off guard. And to be honest, he was too sick to put up any more of a fight than that.

Sighing in defeat, Legend buried his face into his pillow.

“Well,” Time rumbled, and Legend already felt the tension in his shoulders relax at the softness of his voice. “I do know one tale that I loved to hear. It’s a story of a brave Kokiri who saved a Hero.”

Kokiri. That was… wasn’t that somehow related to Time’s world? Wasn’t he from a Kokiri Forest or something like that? Legend’s head was too filled with fog to put it entirely together, and Time was usually too enigmatic to know much about him anyway.

“Long ago, a Hero chosen by the goddesses was dying,” Time started softly, and Legend felt his skin tingle as his body settled heavily into his bedroll. “He was cursed in his blood, a terrible disease that only a sacred fruit could heal. The fruit grew on the Great Deku Tree, but the Hero had no way of getting to him. The goddesses ruminated on what to do and decided to select a Kokiri for the task.”

Time’s voice continued on, and Legend felt a small smile play at his lips. Memories of many years in the past flooded him, warming his heart and stilling the tremors in his body. His lids grew heavy, and he turned his head to the side facing the elder. As his body relaxed and sleep finally, finally overtook him, Legend let out a relieved, content sigh.

The next morning, Legend awoke still feeling feverish, but the body aches were gone. It was amazing the difference a good night’s sleep could make. He turned, squinting at the sun high in the sky and realized that he’d somehow gotten a cloth over his eyes to block out the light.

Looking around, the veteran first caught sight of Warriors, who was sitting against the tree beside him. The captain was reading a book, though the veteran couldn’t discern which one it was. Legend stared at him for a moment before the captain noticed his scrutiny.

“Good morning,” Warriors said warmly, settling the book on his lap.

“I thought I was supposed to be isolated from everyone,” Legend remarked dryly.

Warriors shrugged. “I’m a fair distance from you.”

“Don’t you have something actually useful to be doing?”

“Reading is useful. Broadens your mind and lets you relax.”

“I know that. But it’s you,” Legend said. “You’re the captain, you should be patrolling or planning our next attack or something.”

The captain smiled. “My duties include making sure everyone is alright, too. Now relax and close your eyes. You were sleeping well.”

Legend sighed, coming up with a few snarky responses, but he choked them down. Warriors was being… too nice for that kind of venom today. He tugged at the bandana, raising an eyebrow at the captain. “Was this your idea?”

“Smithy’s, actually,” Warriors answered. “Best use it or he’ll lecture you.”

Legend huffed a laugh. Warriors was probably right, that would be something Four would do. Stretching some of the remaining soreness out of his body, Legend drank some offered water and then pulled the bandana over his eyes once more.

Maybe he didn’t hate his life, after all.

#occasionally Legend can put his dramatic nature aside and just let others take care of him #but I guarantee it won't last long #the instant he gets some more sleep he'll be back at it #and that'll tell everyone he's feeling better #you ask skye answers #ask game #writing prompt #sicktember #linkeduniverse #linked universe #lu legend #lu time #lu warriors #writing

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fire-emblem-drabbles · 2 years

Text

Pairing: Yandere! Lif x reader

Prompt: “You have no idea how much I’ve been holding myself back for you.”

Description: Surely it wouldn’t be a mistake to grow close to Lif. Even if he admitted to some less than healthy feelings, that was okay as long as the two of you were willing to work though them, right? Isn’t that right, dear summoner?

Content Warning: yandere, unhealthy relationships, Sydney’s self indulgence, otherwise just two mentally ill idiots goading one another’s bad ideas, ask to tag

Rating: sfw

Word Count: 1831

Notes: Hi, not dead! Also, still loving Lif. I wanted to write something more unhinged... but ugh I love Lif so much I was like “wahhh the summoner could never hate him!!!” so. there’s that. so its kinda back and forth but hey, it’s something?

Edit: lmao I forgot to link it before but the prompt was taken from this list <3 thank u vanny my beloved

~*~

You never thought it would be a mistake to grow closer to the heroes in your charge. Even some of the more… villainous among them couldn’t act out on there less than friendly urges thanks to the magical contract used to summon them. Time and time again growing closer to heroes actually proved to be more than worth it, both on the battlefield and off it. Some were more open to it than others, of course, and who could blame them for that? It was a strange new world and you didn’t blame them for trying to find sanctuary in those that had came from their same world. Still, you tried your best to give everyone the time and attention they deserved. Some maybe more than others, even.

You never thought it would be so hard to get Lif to open up though. Perhaps that was ignorance on your part, thinking you knew Alfonse—knew him so well. Even being the same man, they had litteral worlds of difference experiences between them. Still, you wanted to know him better, wanted to help him even if he didn’t think he deserved it, if he fought against you at first; you really thought his warnings were just to try and push you away, to try and isolate himself more and continue trying to be a self fulfilling prophecy. It’s really a shame that you didn’t let that happen, that you had to wiggle and worm your way closer to him. Maybe if you had listened, this wouldn’t be happening. It’s really your fault, then.

At least, that’s what Lif keeps telling you.

Silly summoner, don’t you know? None of this would be happening if you kept your distance like he told you. Lif was only so strong a man, there was only so much he could do to stop himself. But there you went, foolishly wearing down his already thin will (at least, when it came to you). Certainly, it was only a matter of time until something like this happened but your actions certainly expedited the process.

“You have no idea how much I’ve been holding myself back for you.” His voice is a low whisper against the column of your neck. He inhales sharply after the words, the heavy breath that leaves past his mask after tickling you in not an entirely unpleasant way. Still, your hair stands on end, too afraid to speak as Lif pins you again the door of your own room. After another heavy moment, he speaks again. “I wanted to be content just to be near you… to watch as you lived your happy life from afar. But…” His voice draws to a small sigh. “I failed to consider how much you would try to involve me in your life.” You try to speak.

“I just wanted--” He cuts you off, voice a little louder than before.

“You didn’t listen to me.” Red eyes lock with yours, ink dark bangs ticking your skin as he presses his forehead to yours. “I should have known, though. You’re too sweet to stay away.” A bitter laugh leaves him, one that has you frowning despite the situation you found yourself in.

“Because I care.” Your voice is soft. You all the sudden find it difficult to meet his gaze, though there’s not much else you can look when he’s leaning over you so heavily. “I… didn’t want you thinking that I didn’t.” Its all you can say.

“Were you really that blind to it? How I held myself back from you?” He softens ever so lightly.

“I…” You frown softly. “I don’t think I could have guessed this from how you acted, no.”

“You always were so innocent.” His raises his free hand, armored fingers ever so gently tracing down your cheek. “I… didn’t want you to see this side of me. As Lif I’ve done horrible things but… I still never wanted you to know the terrible, jealous man I’ve become.” The hand that just caressed you so gently now clasps your hair in a tight grip. Not enough to hurt you, but just strong enough to give you the barest hint of the depths of his feelings. “Every day I fought the urge to keep you all to myself. I know I’m not the only one who needs you—wants you by their side.” Your feel the heat reach your cheeks. “But I know I’m the only one whose watched you die before, that’s failed to protect you.” His forehead is still pressed to yours, but clawed hands now grip your shoulders. “I don’t deserve you.”

“Lif…” It’s hard to find the right words to say. You struggle against the hard lump in your throat, trying your best to speaks. “I know I can’t changed what happened in your past… but I’m right here, right now. Whether you think you deserve me or not, I’m not going anywhere.” Hesitantly, you move to wrap your arms around his neck. You move slow, giving him ample time to move away from you but Lif is still, letting you encircle his neck in a soft hug.

“_____…” His voice speaking your name is the softest he’s spoken all night. Despite you moving to hug him first, he still moves his arms around your waist slowly, as if afraid in any moment you’ll disappear or pull away. You do no such thing, instead only hugging tighter again him, trying to convey what your words can’t say. There’s a long silent moment as he gently rests his head atop your own. You finally speak again, pulling away just enough so your voice isn’t muffled against his chest. You don’t miss the way his arms seize tighter against you for a moment.

“I can’t claim to understand what goes on inside your head but… I’ll be here, with open arms, to accept your feelings, no matter how strange you think they are.”

“They’re not pretty.” You can feel his heavy breath blow some stray hairs atop your head. “They can be dark… they scare me sometimes.” You don’t think you can recall a time Lif has ever been so open, so vulnerable with you. “Why do you try so hard for me?”

“Because I want to.” When you pull away this time, Lif lets you go, though his arms still rest on your waist. “I want to be a part of your life, good and bad, because I care.”

“But do you care about me like I care for you?” He holds your chin with one hand. His other gently places down his mask on your desk. You stare in awe for a moment at him, taking in the shape of his lips and the eerie glow of his skin.

“I,” It was hard to speak with the sudden pounding of your heart. Lif moved closer to you, face mere inches from your own.

“Do you love me like I do you? Would you accept these feelings of mine?” There’s little you can do to stop him from tilting your head one way. “Please…” His whispered plead is a ghost against your lips as you tremble in trepidation. You don’t stop him as he presses his lips to yours. Their softer then you ever would have guessed. You feel your eyes flutter shut the moment he pulls away. You hesitate to open them for a moment, too scared of what emotion you might see in his eyes. Why did he feel so dangerous all the sudden? You felt as if admitting your affection for him would seal your fate in some unforeseen way. As if for some reason now, you should heed his previous warnings. But where would that leave you, when here and now, Lif has done nothing but prove how much he trusts you and is willing to be vulnerable with you. Why deny him now? Opening your eyes, you respond to him.

“I do.” Your voice is a whisper, afraid to be heard. “Of course I love you.” The words feel as if they’re set in stone as you see a smile grace his lips. “I told you, I would accept your feelings no matter what.”

“I know,” His eyes soft as he looks at you. “Hearing you say it aloud though…” He closes his eyes a moment. “It’s nice. It… makes this a little easier.” Its your questioning look that causes him to let out a little chuckle. “I tried warning you _____… but now that I have you to myself, I don’t plan on sharing you.” His words, though kind of unsettling, cause you to let out a little giggle. Given the circumstances you can’t help but feel a little giddy, even.

“Now you’re just being silly.” You meet his face with a grin, though it falters when you see how serious his face is. “Lif…?”

“Why do you think I told you to stay away.” He holds you close again, careful of his armor. “I know I’m a selfish man. I want to hide you away from the world and keep your warmth all to myself.” Again, a thrill runs up your spine at his words. You know you should be alarmed but it’s so nice knowing how much he wants you. “There are many others who are as undeserving of your kindness as I am… I hate to think you treat them as you do me.”

“No,” You say quickly. “You’re the only one I’m so…” Your nose wrinkles as you try and think of the right way to say this. “You’re the only one who’s this special to me.”

“It makes me happy to hear that.” He squeezes you again. “You shouldn’t indulge me so much, lest I let my greed guide my darker thoughts.” There’s a dangerous glint in his eye. Though, you never much knew how to listen to him.

“That’s okay.” You smile. “I won’t let it get that far. I promise.” Again, he smiles, and you try to commit the look to memory.

“So you say, but look at you now.” Your eyes widen as you realize Lif (of all people!) is teasing you. “Don’t look so excited when I say these things…” He looks to the side all the sudden and you swear, you see color dust his cheeks. “You don’t know what is does to me.”

“Sometime in the future… I may not mind.” You really should keep your mouth shut sometimes but you can’t help the butterflies you feel as his eyes widen.

“_____…” He pulls you in suddenly for another kiss, this one much more impassioned than the last. As he pulls back from you, his face looks downright wicked. It causes you to pause for a moment, to truly take Lif in before you. “You really have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into, do you?” Your left wondering what he means as you try and collect your thoughts. “There’s a reason I warned you.”

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere lif x reader #lif x reader #fire emblem #fire emblem heroes #fe lif #hi its me down in the tags #if u see this my coms are open #hmu ;)

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miitgaanar · 1 year

Text

@soartfullydone asked: You/Tamlin: a kiss after one muse has killed for the other

This turned out to be MUCH LONGER and more involved than I intended. Oops. So it gets its own post lmao

***

The halls of the Spring Court were still and quiet. Almost desolate, as they were wont to be as of late. The quiet chatter of the guards no longer echoed the halls, the brilliant birdsong muffled to distant musical notes on the breeze, the vibrant colors of spring that once sparkled in the sunlight dulled to muted shades of green and pink and blue.

Life itself seemed to have been leached from his home, leaving Tamlin bereft of the usual comforts that helped to quell the racing thoughts overtaking his mind. He was alone, isolated, even—though he knew this to not truly be the case.

Tamlin stood facing the windows of his study, the ever-present cool breeze of his court drifting gently through the curtains, making the translucent fabric dance to a song he could no longer hear. A lock of hair fell out of place, displaced by an especially strong gust. He quickly reached up to tuck it back behind his rounded, mortal ears, unable to bear the sight of the now dull, near caramel shade of his once golden hair.

It had been months since Eris had stripped him of his immortality in exchange for Cassandra’s life, and yet, above all else, it was the quiet that left him the most unsettled. He felt both blind and deaf to the world around him, vulnerable in a way he never thought possible. He knew his guards still roamed the grounds, chatting idly as they went about their rounds; he knew the birds still sang, cheerful and careless as ever; and he knew that his court remained vibrant and bright, the magic that sustained it holding fast despite his folly.

He was the one who was different, he was the one who had freely handed over his immortality—relinquished the magic that came with being the High Lord of Spring—and left his court leaderless and defenseless.

Tamlin sighed heavily, his hazel eyes staring out at the manor grounds unseeing. It was bad enough that his people were left without a High Lord, but those closest to him now had to take on the burden of ensuring the Spring Court did not suffer any more than was necessary. Lucien had stepped in to share the burden of leadership, hopeful that at least the presence of a High Fae would help to deter Eris from launching his invasion just yet, as well as quell the unease that rippled through his subjects. Elizabeth was hard at work searching through their oldest texts for a way to reverse Eris’ spell, determined in her entirely human way to unearth the secrets of the old, dark magics Eris had utilized.

And Cassandra…

A sharp pain wound through his chest, tightening like a noose around his newly human heart. He had sworn that he would protect her, that she would be safe in his lands from any and all who would seek to use her powers. He had failed her, completely and utterly, and Eris had used her to usurp his father, to draw Tamlin out of the confines of his court and into the land of eternal Fall.

And then Eris had killed her, and in his desperation and rage and grief, Tamlin had paid the ultimate price to bring her back. Just as the son of Autumn had wanted.

Another sigh escaped him, his hand flexing out of habit as the embers of his rage sought an outlet. Claws no longer lingered beneath his flesh, ready to rip into the nearest threat and rend skin from bone. Instead, his nails were now short and fragile, all in various states of broken and chipped.

He scoffed softly. Useless. Even as an immortal and powerful High Lord, he had been unable to protect the woman he loved, what could he possibly do now to protect her from the other High Lords? Rhysand remained only too quiet, sequestered in the north where Tamlin’s scouts were unable to reach. And Tamlin could not rely on the other seasonal courts to stand by him, not with Autumn’s open declaration of war.

He had failed his siren, his people. And they now stood alone against the might of whatever court decided to move against them first.

Tamlin finally moved from the window, the joints in his knees cracking from being locked in place for too long. He frowned, but tried not to dwell on it. He didn’t need another reason to despise his newly mortal existence.

The floorboards were quiet beneath his boots as he left his study, though he knew anyone nearby likely heard each step as clearly as if he stomped on the aged wood. He hated being unaware of his own presence, unable to tell what was truly inaudible and what was as loud as the crash of thunder. He was a hunter by nature, and yet he now walked through these fae lands as their chosen prey.

The halls were mercifully empty as he wandered aimlessly, his eyes downcast. He couldn’t stomach how the manor’s staff would pointedly avoid his gaze as they went about their duties, choosing instead to offer him a cursory bow before returning to the task at hand. It broke something in him each time, and a part of him knew that it was pity that left them unable to meet his eyes as they passed. He wished that they hated him, wished they cursed his name and his mortal existence. He deserved it, after all. He had failed them as surely as he had failed Cassandra.

But pity? To know they pitied him and his shortened life was a worse fate than death. Eris knew that, and had likely hoped for it.

Tamlin turned a corner, his eyes catching on the faint flutter of a cloak at the end of the hall before it disappeared around the bend. He raised a single eyebrow, a frown pulling at his lips. It could have been a shadow—his eyes played many a trick on him these days, seeing things in darkened corners that simply weren’t there—but the sun was bright today, and the shadows were few.

He followed on silent feet—or at least what he deemed silent—avoiding what floorboards he knew creaked at the faintest application of pressure. He reached the end of the hall, unsurprised to find no one there. He paused for a brief moment, listening.

Nothing.

Tamlin straightened, a frustrated scowl pulling at his lips. He was acting like a fool, prowling through his own manor like a thief in the night, intent on catching prey that did not exist. That hunter’s instinct he had prided himself on seemed to have left him utterly. What use would he be in battle if he was reduced to chasing shadows and phantoms through the halls of his home?

He was about to turn back the way he had come, despondent and dispirited, when there came the soft creak of a door being opened from somewhere behind him. He spun around, prepared to see one of the maids exiting a guest room with linens to be laundered, only to see a fae he decidedly did not know slip through the doorway and lock eyes with him.

The fae had the appearance of a bat, with a pushed in, flat nose and short snout that revealed rows of sharp, needle-like teeth, but stood tall and hulking, rivaling even that of Tamlin’s build.

With a flap of his great, black wings, the beast rushed Tamlin.

Instincts that Tamlin had feared left him kicked in, and he dropped into a roll, barely dodging the creature. The fae shrieked in frustration, pulling a long blade from a sheath at his side.

“I was sent to find the siren,” the fae hissed, “but the fallen son of Spring will do.”

The creature swung his blade, his movements almost too fast for Tamlin to follow. He managed to duck the first swing, but the fae fluidly transitioned into the second, and cut upward from the hip. Tamlin stumbled back, but the tip of the blade pierced the flesh of his stomach, cutting a long line from the center of his abdomen nearly up to his right shoulder.

A pained yell was ripped from his throat as he fell back onto the plush, forest green carpeting that lined the hall. The impact knocked the wind out of him, and he struggled to take in air as he attempted to push himself back to his feet. Searing agony ripped through him at the slightest movement and his arm collapsed beneath his weight, leaving him broken and bleeding upon the floor as he stared up at his attacker.

“Rhysand has yet to make his move,” the fae spat as he advanced, those bat-like features pulled into what Tamlin could only assume was a derisive sneer. “But Eris grows impatient, and seeks to hasten the pieces on the board. The siren behind the Night Court’s borders would do nicely.”

Horror flooded Tamlin, his blood turning to ice in his veins. No. Not again. Not now. Not after everything he had done to get her back, to bring her back.

Please, no.

The fae raised his blade, those sharp teeth glinting in the afternoon sunlight, as he made to finish off the disgraced and forgotten High Lord of Spring.

“Tamlin!”

A voice broke the heavy silence, and both Tamlin and his attacker looked to the end of the hall. Cassandra stood there, a gown of the deepest ocean blue pooling around her feet, her burgundy hair a wild halo around her pale face, her brilliant green eyes widened in horror.

The fae turned from his prey to face Cassandra, and the blood drained from Tamlin’s face.

“Run!” he cried out, his voice cracking as desperation flooded him.

The intruder twirled his blade, fully intent on his new mark, and Tamlin struggled to get to his feet once again. Pain lanced through him, his blood pooling beneath him at an alarming rate, and he fell back to the floor in a heap.

No. No, no, no, no…

Tamlin looked towards Cassandra once more. She had not moved, her eyes rapidly flickering between himself and the monstrous fae that now advanced on her. Why wouldn’t she run? Why was she still here?

“Cassandra, go!” he tried once more, but she remained rooted in place. She did not move an inch, simply holding her ground.

He thought it to be shock, the horror of the scene keeping her locked in place, but then he saw her eyes, and he realized that the horror he had seen in them had fled. In its place, a fiery anger he had seldom seen in his wild halfling had taken root.

She breathed deep, her features a mask of deceptive calm, like a sea in the moments before a raging storm.

She opened her mouth, and a voice of the most ethereal nature filled the halls of Spring.

Tamlin froze, watching, distantly noting that their attacker had also stopped in his tracks. It was difficult to focus, to keep a hold of himself, but through the haze of her song, he watched as the fae dropped his blade, seemingly in a daze.

Cassandra continued with her song, keeping the fae under her thrall. Each note seemed to echo eternally, evoking images of lone ships lost at sea, seeking safe harbor from the crashing waves. He watched as she walked forward, approaching the bat-like fae, and bent to pick up his discarded weapon. It seemed so much larger in her hands, so out of place.

And without once pausing in her continuous, haunting melody, she lifted the blade, and slit the fae’s throat.

The intruder fell to the ground with a dull, wet thud, his head only just barely still attached to his body, and the song abruptly ended.

“Tamlin!” Cassandra was suddenly at his side, her green eyes wide with panic, her skin spattered with fresh blood. “Tamlin, look at me. Hey. You’re okay. Just hang in there.” She ripped off a piece of her lovely blue gown, the fabric already bloodstained and ruined, and pressed it to his wound.

His eyes drifted to the now dead fae and the still growing pool of blood that ringed his body, before he once again met her gaze.

“I’m so sorry,” he breathed, his hand weakly lifting to brush the blood from her cheek. He simply succeeded in smearing it, like a macabre imitation of human cosmetics. “I’m so, so sorry.”

Cassandra’s face twisted into a look of utter befuddlement. “What? Why?”

“I should have protected you,” he said softly, each word laced with grief. “I promised to protect you.”

Her confusion morphed into a grief of her own, and she shook her head. “I’m only here because of you,” she said. She leaned forward, pressing her lips to his. It was a gentle kiss, one born of a quiet promise whispered into the dark. As she pulled away, she pressed her forehead to his own, looking into his dull, hazel eyes without hesitation. “It’s my turn to return the favor.”

#a court of thorns and roses #tamlin #acotar #tamlin x oc #soartfullydone #otp: the songs the siren sang #writings from Mandalore #writing prompts #AU: Fae Court Book

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giftedverse-confidential · 9 months

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Joou Hitsugaya |Splendor

Joou Hitsugaya, known professionally as Luxurious Heroine: Splendor, is a Japanese Hero, businesswoman, and fashion designer. She is signed to the Heroes Association and operates her headquarters in Sao Paulo, Brazil. She is the current president of Takarano Incorporated after her father retired.

Description

Joou is a woman in her late twenties with curly hair, dark brown eyes, and full lips. A common trait among her family are their two beauty marks-- one near the eye and the other near the lips. She was born albino, which makes her look even more different than she already does. She has a curvy body with wide hips from having three children.

Joou never wears the same hero costume

Personality

Joou can be described as a diamond; beautiful but cold and hard. She freely expresses her opinions and independence without regard for what others may think and/or say. She's built up a reputation for being her "own best friend" as she shows great confidence in both herself and her abilities. Joou's unapologetic in who she is and what she stands for.

On the surface, Joou is the perfect businesswoman. Ambitious, straightforward, and strategic with boundless intelligence. Joou's what the definition of "girlboss" should be. Many in her field look up to her as what they should be like and aspire to reach her level of success.

While she is really like that, it's also a mask to hide who she really is.

Joou is extremely hardcore when it comes to keeping people outside of family at an emotional distance. Not because she hates people or is emotionally stunted, in fact quite the opposite-- it's her defense mechanism. She has trust issues that run so deep that not even Joou knows if she'll ever be able to recover from them. It has earned her a reputation as a recluse.

Joou carries herself as mature and levelheaded while on duty as a Hero. She deals with criminals accordingly and humanely as possible. She stays focused on her mission and doesn't let many things distract her.

Though she has her own critiques of her job: she's a vocal opponent of the heavy emphasis on brute force rather than strategy and technique as well as all the "public duties" that come with her contract.

When around her family, Joou shows a much different side of herself. A warmer, more open side of herself that many don't see. Joou is a loving and caring mother to her children, and a good wife to her husband Irefumi. She is especially close to her younger sister Hime and does her best to be someone that Hime can aspire to be.

History

Joou was born Joou Takarano to Fan Zhìháo, a Taiwanese businessman, and the heroine Glitz (Kimi Takarano) in Japan. The eldest of two children, Joou lived a life that many dreamed of as both of her parents were very wealthy-- her and her mother being descendants of the Takarano clan.

However it was no dream for her not only because of her mixed race heritage subjected her to bullying and ostracism by her peers, but also her albinism. To make matters worse, her body made her even more of a target after she hit puberty.

Wanting their daughter to have some semblance of a normal childhood free of bullying, Zhìháo and Kimi sent her to live with her aunt Shiho and uncle Keizo who were residing in America at the time.

While there, she gained a new perspective of protecting herself by distancing herself from others. She realized didn't need to others to know or value her worth when she could do that herself; thus adopting her philosophy of being able to only rely on oneself when others reject you.

During her stay, she was homeschooled before returning back to Japan shortly before middle school. Upon returning home, Joou went on the defensive and began isolating herself from other kids. She knew people didn't like or respect her but kept her head high and carried on. Joou became entirely self sufficient, making her stand out from other students.

Joou has always wanted to be a hero, but her interest was never too strong until one day. A teacher made a comment about her Gifts lacking force and strength, implying that Joou could never become a hero with her powers. Those words made her realize that most heroes relied solely on power instead alternatives. It also drove her to train and hone her Gifts by relying on techniques and strategies rather than sheer force.

Eventually Joou enrolled at the same elite hero college her mom went to on Eden Island. During her freshman and sophomore years, she was briefly engaged to another student there but broke up with him as she wasn't attracted to him romantically.

At one point during her sophomore year of college, Joou had began to see her body in a positive light after so many years. That ended, however, when someone leaked explicit photos of her to a magazine and they ended up on the front cover. Enraged and humiliated, Joou transferred to another school in her home of Japan and never returned to Eden Island. She finished her heroic studies there and graduated with full honors.

After graduating, Joou signed on to the Heroes Association and took the codename Splendor in reference to her Midas Touch Gift. She quickly rose to be one of their most unique heroes as she prioritized more technical skills rather than sheer brute force.

During an undercover mission at a jewelry auction in Brazil, she met her future husband Inkstain (Irefumi Hitsugaya) and eventually married him.

Relationships

Irefumi Hitsugaya | Inkstain

Irefumi is the love of Joou's life and the first man she's ever been romantically attracted to. Despite standing on opposite sides of heroism, they love each other dearly. Irefumi is the first to see that Joou isn't just a body, but a person with her own goals, ambitions, and thoughts. He's also the first person to treat her with genuine respect, something Joou never experienced before.

In turn, Joou provides them with love and support by adopting a few of their punk beliefs. This is her first real relationship so she's quite nervous on how's she being a good wife to Irefumi.

Joou has no desire to keep her relationship a secret from her bosses, and they don't have a choice but to accept lest they want to incur the wrath (and lawyers) of her family.

Hime Takarano

Joou and Hime have a lot in common: they're both ambitious, strong willed, and intelligent. Hime is the more social one, however, so her older sister doesn't have to be.

It obvious that Joou wants to be a good role model for her younger sister seeing as she herself didn't have many growing up. She makes it known that she's proud of everything Hime has accomplished so far. Everytime she talks about Hime, it's always with loving pride and respect.

Fan Zhìháo & Kimi Takarano | Glitz

Joou has nothing short of love, respect, and admiration for her parents who worked hard and raised her well. She knew they did their best to give her the best life.

Gifts

Jewelry Manipulation/Midas Touch

Joou has the power to telepathically manipulate the properties of jewelry (i.e. hardness, luster, etc). This includes being able to turn a pair of diamond earrings into mini lasers or turning a necklace into a makeshift flashlight. She later awakens the ability to transfer their properties onto herself whenever she is in gem or metal form.

Midas Touch, Joou's primary Gift, allows her to transform jewelry of all kinds into any weapon she desires. Despite being a rather weak Gift on paper, Joou has found ways to maximize its abilities thanks to her usage of techniques and strategies.

Ferrokinesis (Metal Manipulation)

Another one of Joou's major powers is her ferrokinesis. She can telepathically manipulate all metals as she pleases; though the sources must be external. While this ability is useful, it's also very mentally taxing on her so she rarely uses it.

Gemstone Mimicry

Splendor has the power to cover her body in a durable gemstone skin that she can breathe, eat, and even move in. This ability was awakened as a response to trauma. She can also adapt a certain gemstone's properties onto herself in this form.

Metal Mimicry

One of Joou's lesser used forms; she can cover herself in a metal skin that allows her to still function properly. The only reason that it's less used is because of how painful and draining the process of transforming into it is.

Technopathy

Splendor can physically "link" herself to any form of technology and control it as she wishes-- all with a simple touch. She can even override systems and inhibitors. When this happens, gold colored circuit lines appear on her body.

#oc: joou/splendor #oc profile #tag dump:#'the world is my kingdom. and you're just living in it.' - fashion #'diamonds are forever; meaning that i am forever' - powers #'i wouldn't say i'm blessed. more like good genetics' - faces

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aronarchy · 1 year

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in your opinion, what should an anarchist and post-carceral society do about dyed-in-the-wool wrongdoers who *will* make the active choice to hurt people *deliberately* regardless of the societal conditions or measures taken to prevent harm?

(i'm not meaning to sealion here, i am just genuinely thinking about this question myself)

not really sure what you’re counting under “measures”—for example, taking a measure such as “killing them” would, obviously, ensure they stop hurting people. other things like (hypothetically) “isolating them w/no resources & no way out” would, also, drastically reduce to likelihood of them hurting people—no matter how much they want to & are willing to, if they don’t have the physical means, they can’t

though, I’m not in favor of things like imprisonment, bc to be able to lock up & hold someone like that already means you have some degree of disproportionate power and other things built and set up in place, and also it would be way overkill causing vastly more harm than needed which is bad

I struggle to imagine a world without any more prisons, bc I’ve never lived in one & our entire lives are saturated w/prison culture, tho there are some pre-carceral societies you could study; & personally tho I find it easier to think abt these things thru “what can I do right now,” bc it’s already a similar issue—trying to stop harm (a lot of harm happens in my life even rn), but w/o carceral apparatuses (also knowing that those can’t really help us with anything and are the harm, in similar ways)—and really anything we would do once we get to something that could be called a “post-prison” point is already what we’re doing now—or trying to do, tho the carceral state tries to prevent those things

& a key point abt that is that “harm” (esp in the form of abusive relationships) tends to not really follow a “community is in a position to stop it while it’s happening” in the first place, bc of how the entire society has a culture of silence built into it, & how tons of factors go into making these situations hard to escape or resist. & also how communities tend to suck at handling abusers even after they find out (lots of victim-blaming, not understanding how this stuff works, not understanding the risk etc). so w/, like, close interpersonal violence I’m very focused on improving the ability for victims to use self-defense, to escape, to cut contact w/abusers & decreasing the consequences for that, & helping us retake control of our narratives and decreasing tolerance for abuse & abuse apologia in general

there are also people, for example, I might come across near spaces I orbit rn & who are obviously not safe to be around (determined bigots, harassers, abuse supporters, etc) and a lot of the time I’m not in a position to do anything about that directly, but I try to spread knowledge abt right-to-not-interact-with-people-you-dont-want-to (for example), and awareness of how bigots & abusers/supporters use platforms and positions of power to enact harm, and making it easier for ppl to fuck off from them if they’re being toxic (think antifascist tactics, but including how they're applied on a smaller scale—focusing on preventing fascists from building power, denying fascism a platform from which to promote itself, interrupting the problem in its tracks before it can escalate to assaults or state takeovers)

every situation of harm/victimization is different, every manipulative/exploitative/abusive person is different, the treatment each gets from surrounding communities is different—but in general (if these things can even be said to be generalizable) whatever they are using to be able to cause the harm, whatever’s preventing ppl from doing effective self-protection, etc etc take care of that (& no one size fits all ofc but if it’s, like, a person who targets ppl in certain types of communities for attacks then a great first step would be removing them from their projects and disassociating from them and informing other at risk communities abt them)

#ask #profiction-monika #proship-kai #ramble

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tomasperez · 1 year

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[ peter gadiot, cis male, he/him ] - was that tommy perez i saw by the lighthouse today? i heard that the thirty-five year old who has been in nightrest for his entire life and works as the owner at mike’s auto service has a reputation of being protective, but also sardonic. they reside in low point & people in town usually associate them with t-shirt sleeves rolled up, looking completely unimpressed, and the quiet static of an old radio. let’s hope the killer doesn’t go after them next.

tw: car accident, death, infidelity

Born and raised in Nightrest as the eldest of three children, the Perez family were always tight knit growing up. Their parents worked exceptionally hard to provide a good life for their kids, which ended up in a latch key situation where the trio were left home alone fairly often.

Tommy absorbed the third parent role early on and excelled at it, straight up would’ve fallen on a grenade for his younger siblings if given the chance. Especially his middle brother, Antonio. Thick as thieves from the jump, it was near impossible to find one without the other following behind in close succession.

However once they hit adolescence, their dynamic shifted. Though he made various attempts to keep his brother out of trouble as best he could, Antonio fell down the wrong path and struggled for a long time. Late night calls from jail, subsidizing rent, his life spiraled pretty quickly until not even Tommy could rescue him from himself.

The car accident brought everything to a screeching halt, quite literally. Whether Antonio walked into that street knowingly or otherwise, the end result was still a closed casket funeral and a lifetime of unspoken words. Caretaker until the end, Tommy blamed himself for not doing more and the guilt gnawed relentlessly at him.

Eventually he found solace in his friends, and unfortunately, their partners as well. Grief blinds like a smoke cloud and he hadn’t realized the depths of his own haze until Jesse walked in on Tommy finding comfort in his girlfriend. Naked. Kaboom on that friendship.

Already prone to isolation, the compounded misery of both losses made him pull away from his friends and family entirely. Although he's way less self destructive than his brother, Tommy does struggle to process the complexity of his own emotions so perhaps that’s just as bad.

Anyway, he's kind of a dick and has made a couple Bad Choices™️, but he's also incredibly protective, generous, and a solid guy beneath all the gruff.

#nightrest:intro #car accident tw #death tw #infidelity tw #garbage boi

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idjaa · 2 years

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this blog still gets a surprising amount of traffic. you might notice i never post on here anymore, and that’s because i’m doing great. i used this tumblr to express my feelings at the loneliest and lowest times in my life and it served its purpose, but its time is over. i hope this message can find some purpose for you.

they say “it gets better” and it sounds like a load of shit. i thought so, back when i was in that really dark place. i have half a dozen posts where i blatantly say so.

it’s odd how my entire mental deterioration and multiple near-death experiences are just documented and preserved for you all to see. i don’t relate to most of those things now and it’s horrifying to see them and to know that i felt that way. yet i’m keeping it all up, and maybe in this sad internet neo-archeology we can unpack the story of while things can be so so terrible, they also do get better. i am proof.

i don’t even think of that time as the same version of myself. i feel like i was reborn, or maybe i came alive for the first time, and had to learn everything anew. i felt like i had to meet a lot of people for the first time again and i was able to realize how many people cared about me. (meeting your friends again means being able to relearn all the things you love about them, which is a plus.) i had to learn what i loved to do, and boy do i love to do things. i’m doing my hobbies again. i love having hobbies! i love feeling accomplished after a day of writing my book or running or taking photos or being with people that i love. there is no greater joy than going to sleep with a smile on my face.

i’m afraid of dying again. i’m making plans for my future again. i’m looking forward to growing old and wrinkly and wise and having so many fond memories to reflect on. at the same time, i am so happy to be alive right now as myself at this age and to be able to make those memories. for the first time in a very long time- maybe even the first time ever- i am living and not just surviving. i am alive and it is all so beautiful. the joy of simply living for all of these sunny days is almost worth the years of isolation and struggle. almost.

i’m sure that i might be over-romanticizing this all a little bit. what is fresh and new and lovey to me might just be what regular, average life is like. but if that’s the case, i can’t be over-romanticizing after all because i think that human life is the most lovely thing that could ever be. no amount of romanticization could ever do it justice.

everything isn’t rainbows and sunshine, though. there are bad days. there are bad weeks. i just got through having a miserable week. but they are so rare and they pass. days can be bad, but life overall is not. life is beautiful with all of its ups and downs and lefts and rights. i don’t think i could stand a life without bad days. the path winds in a million different ways but it still goes towards the same ending. when that ending comes, many decades from now, at least i can say that i know what it’s like to be alive.

and so should you. each day i spent alone and turning to this godforsaken website for help i was still being here and that was enough. being here and talking about how i was doing was enough. every action is it’s own small step towards where you will be in life, and i promise you that life is the most rewarding thing about living. i know that it’s hard to keep pressing on but just wanting to be here is enough. please talk to your friends or a counselor or anyone. one day your tumblr will be inactive and barren and you will smell the flowers and smile. and if you’re reading this, i love you.

#my posts #if tumblr user idjaa can find joy then so can you #positive words #positivethinking #vent meme #just putting that there to distract y’all sad people #depression memes #and no this is not a manic episode dw i thought so too #but I can confirm #sometimes life just does get better

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8054yamato · 4 months

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01/10/2024

I have shut myself in for nearly an entire month. This is not normal behavior. The only time I would go out is to use the bathroom or get water. Otherwise, I am permanently in my room. I have not been going to school either. The week prior to Christmas break, I did not attend a single day. As of now, the break had already ended since Monday, yet I have not went to school.

I told myself: "it is not all that bad. I can focus on myself more."

Boy, I was wrong. I broke my fast, I have been completely unproductive. I have done nothing but be a couch potato. My mind is fucked up and I do not know what to do.

The fast will still continue. The estimated time arrival will just be pushed back. I do not want to do the calculations right now because that requires thinking. I have been thinking far too long and hard during the times I have isolated myself from everybody.

I do not know what to do. I will resume school eventually, but I am pretty much guarenteed to not graduate high school. I will enlist into the army and get a GED through there and will likely pursue college after my service.

Now, do I regret my tardiness and absences throughout my school year thus far? I can not answer that question in all honesty. I would have to ask myself if I would repeat these same actions if I did go back in time. The answer is likely yes. But that would mean I did not regret my shit attendance rate so far even though I feel like I do regret it. Can I have both? I wonder.

Likely, someone may answer that I do not regret my attendance thus far if I am likely to repeat the same actions if I were to go back in time. Logically, that sounds correct. I feel like it is off though somehow. I am not denying the fact that it can be true, but I am also emphasizing how it can not be true at the same time, though I just can not explain it. If I do regret it, why does the hypothetical contradict that statement? I am in a dilemna. If I do not regret it, why do I feel like it is wrong or off?

I do not know what to do with my life. Whether if I should end it all today or if I should work for a future that can achieve happiness is an ultimatium that I had been asking myself on a daily basis.

I love life, but why am I thinking like this? Obviously I should strive for my goals. But I feel so empty. I am not depressed, I am just pessimistic. I have not been diagnosed for anything, but I can not tell a single soul near me whatsoever. If I try to go to the doctor, I would have to tell my family. I can not go to a therapist because my pride is not letting me. I have trust issues as well so therapists and councilers are a no-go. Do I need to resort to drugs? Hell no. That would be breaking my code.

I am too tired to be thinking right now. I have been rambling for too long. My eyes are weak, my thoughts are gloomy.

おやすみ.

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llycaons · 7 months

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ep43 (2/3): the most beautiful and emotionally evocative scene ever shot in the snow

there she is :( arguments about her consent to being married and t being imprisoned for her entire life aside, she doesn't wear a headband. I wonder how she felt to see her sons wear it

of course he did 🥺 mama's boy

I love lqr but he has no idea how to talk to children about death. useless idiot piece of crap guardian. your child is kneeling IN THE SNOW. don't reprimand him, EXPLAIN

but he's holding hands with lxc 🥺 anyway this imagery kills me

yeah this little moment makes me inordinately fond of lqr even though it's like the bare minimum and also not even that. I guess I didn't expect him to even do this

and THIS line? oof, what a powerful mental image. what powerful symbolism. I wish they'd been able to incorporate it into the show, but rest assured the fics have it covered.

...though not as thoroughly as you'd think

another piece of information that's given long after the fact, but still slots into what we know and enhances the character

I will complain about lwj being underdeveloped but through this episode alone it's clear that he's not poorly written. his backstory, choices, and role in the narrative all make sense, are really interesting and powerful, carry tremendous weight, and are endlessly compelling. I mean, if you like him. obviously. but he has a short yet rich personal history that provides perfect explanations for why he is the way he is, and his character development springboards off of his initial personality, values, and motivations. it's narrow in scope, but quite deep, which is a hell of a lot more than hua cheng got

people laughed at lxc for playing flute 'at awkward moments' but that is so rude and insensitive. he was playing a mourning song for his mother. idiots

this line confuses me a bit. doesn't lxc know how passionate and messy lwj is? does he really think his brother is icy after knowing him his entire life? maybe he's just commenting on how different people view lwj differently

ah the classic <3 wwx should probably drink less but I think if you told him to give up emperor's smile in any universe he's start crying. it's symbolic now

this scene hit me SO hard. lwj with his hair down all informal. wwx, now more aware of how much lwj has given up for him and how deeply he trusts him, coming in slowly to this domestic scene. he's blurry, his back is t the camera. he's the unknown element in a quiet and peaceful scene. and he enters warily, like a wild animal, which is funny because he's been less openly cautious in the past when he has less reason to trust lwj

I guess now...being that deeply trusted and cared for is intimidating. and wwx isn't very good with sincerity or vulnerability. it's easy to imagine his earlier carelessness was hiding a readiness to cut and run at any time, back when he wasn't sure what lwj was doing or why. but now....but now

well, he's still shy

this scene is so nice and peaceful. lwj pouring drinks, handing them over to wwx. really simple and comforting. wwx hasn't had a home in so long. that got me choked up. with what happened at koi tower and what he's just learned, it's sinking in. he's starting to really trust. and that's hard for someone with his history! I'm really proud of him!

literally some of the most gorgeous shots in the show. there's talking about his past, exploring it, what he wants to do moving forward

his bitterness, his rejection of the rest of the world. his loneliness and isolation

THIS shot. this is my favorite in the entire series. legendary. wwx on his own out in the cold, distancing himself once again, lwj staying behind near the shelter but not leaving him

sideways allusion to the novel canon, where he WAS responsible for all of that?

also a post I remember pointed out that he lowered the jar of ES after hearing wuji start, and they claimed like wwx stopped drinking so much bc he heard wuji, but that wasn't what happened. he had already taken a sip and he didn't stop at any point during this scene

lwj playing wuji again, telling him he's trusted, that lwj will always be with him, that there's a safe and warm shelter for him, that he's loved. and he doesn't go in quite yet. he still has some thinking to do. he didn't have much time, back in his old life. he avoided things that might have hurt him. he kept running

and that's why it's so rewarding to see him sit down and acknowledge his hurt, and his isolation. something something you don't realize how bad something is until you're relieved of it. now that he's in a safe place, wwx is able to process some of those feelings. maybe break down over them, though he doesn't in this scene. it's a start

I really love this entire scene, not just for being visially stunning and for allowing wwx a tiny bit of processing, but because it presents yet another microcosm of wwx and lwj's dynamic postcanon. wwx wary, wandering, exploring his feelings. lwj steady and warm and welcoming, keeping a place at the table for him when he's ready to come in, and reminding him he's still cared for. it's beautiful. it's exactly the kind of support I love about the relationship

oh yeah and the soulmate telepathy that never got explained

yesss they said soulmate!!!!

this line does confuse me a bit. I assume that lwj trusting in wwx = wwx having that clear conscience bc he trusts lwj to judge righteously, but in that case why is lwj the one to deliver this line?

his I'm sorry and thank you is very nice and I treasure it dearly, but almost nicer is this smile from him. just so much fondness and warmth in it. I wouldn't call it bedroom eyes, but I can tell why people do

we can very vaguely can see wwx doing SOMETHING as the camera pans away and it probably is him untying his sash or taking off his robe because I don't know what else would cause such a flurry of black material. again I don't think they did anything more this night (their dynamic is exactly the same the next morning, for one) but I can appreciate why people think they did

and on to part three! YOU KNOW WHO'S COMING!!!

#cql re-rewatch

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