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acescorazon · 5 months

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Title: Changes

Chapter: 8/?

Rating: M

Word count: 2054

Chapter excerpt:

Buggy would choose his own comfort over his pride and happiness a thousand times. He wants to live a comfortable, peaceful life. He doesn’t really have to like Mihawk, he just has to put up with him and pretend they’re friends. He wants the beatings and insults to stop, that’s all he wants. He wants to go back to being happy or being the closest thing to being happy like he was before Cross Guild formed. He needs this ally. He needs a cordial relationship with Hawkeye. He hates him, but he wants everything to just STOP.

Buggy forces one of his signature smiles across his lips, “Okay… Let’s give it a try. Yeah, let’s do it, let’s have dinner together. This will be good for us…” Just who is he trying to convince? Himself or Mihawk? The sentence just left his mouth, and he already feels a sense of dread rising in the pit of his stomach, but what else is there to do? Nothing seems like the right option, and he’s tired of having to fight with himself. He just wants it all to end.

|Ch1|Ch2|Ch3|Ch4|Ch5|Ch6|Ch7|

Buggy shouldn’t be reconsidering Mihawk’s dinner invitation right now, but he is. He’s stupid, right? This is just some ploy to get Buggy to let his guard down and then when he least expects it, Mihawk is going to attack him. No, wait…Mihawk doesn’t have to stoop so low and do that kind of thing, and he knows that. If Mihawk wanted to beat his face in, he could do it whenever he wanted to, he doesn’t need to put on an act and deceive Buggy…Yet, Buggy’s mind still has trouble accepting the idea of Mihawk genuinely offering Buggy his friendship, and instead continues to come up with all sorts of theories about how Mihawk is going to betray him and hurt him like he always does. Buggy doesn’t want to get hurt…

In the same breath, the same brain that is telling him that Mihawk is going to betray him and laugh in his face afterwards, is also telling him that maybe there’s a chance Mihawk isn’t lying. Maybe there’s a chance that Mihawk really does regret hurting Buggy. Maybe there’s an ounce of humanity in Mihawk, and Buggy just hasn’t really seen it outside of Mihawk’s training sessions with Buggy’s men.

Oh, but, then again, Mihawk really doesn’t deserve to be forgiven. He’s been so awful. He’s hurt Buggy time and time again, and he’s made him feel so worthless and less than human. He’s the one who made Buggy want to die yet somehow afraid to die at the exact same time. Buggy has never done anything to deserve this type of treatment from Crocodile or Mihawk, yet they’ve been treating him like a piece of trash since the very first day they showed up on Emptee Bluffs Island.

But…Maybe he should just accept this apology, even if it’s not one hundred percent genuine. Buggy’s so, so tired of taking a beating from his fellow members of Cross Guild and living a fucking nightmare, so maybe he should say he forgives Mihawk and move on, even if he could never truly forgive Mihawk in his heart. Buggy needs all the allies he can get right now, and if being Mihawk’s ‘friend’ means that the beatings will stop and he will potentially convince Crocodile to leave Buggy alone as well… Then maybe…Maybe accepting Mihawk’s apology wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.

Buggy feels so many things, so many conflicting things and he’s afraid to make a decision because what if he makes the wrong choice? He just wants his life to go back to being peaceful and happy. He knows that’s a little difficult right now considering his current status, but… he’d like to have as many good times as possible while he’s still alive.

Buggy has no idea how long he was just standing in the middle of the training grounds, staring at Mihawk, but it must have been long enough for Mihawk to decide that Buggy wasn’t going to make a decision on his own and try to gently urge him to join him for dinner. “I assure you, Buggy,” Mihawk says with a sigh, “I mean you absolutely no harm. I simply want to improve our relationship.” Okay, but how can Buggy take that for the truth? “I know you were unbelievably drunk when you told me all those things the other night, but I am not mad at you for speaking your mind. In fact, I respect you for having the courage to stand up to me.”

The mere mention of the other night when Buggy got piss drunk and then confronted Mihawk brings back embarrassing memories that leave Buggy’s face burning. Ah, that… he really should have apologized for that, but then he got ‘sick’, and plus, he doesn’t like talking to Mihawk…and then on top of all that Mihawk’s been so weird and confusing lately, so he never really got the chance to… uh…you know. Mihawk chuckles, and the sound of his laughter snaps Buggy out of his panicked thoughts, “You don’t need to be embarrassed or anything.” He assures him, “I needed to hear that, and I know that a simple apology can’t make up for all that I've done, but I'm sorry and I really want us to start over again.”

Buggy chews on his bottom lip. What does he do? This should be an easy decision for him. He should just tell Mihawk to fuck off… But, he’s struggling to say those words, and it’s not just because he’s afraid that Mihawk will beat the hell out of him either. This is stupid, why is he so confused? What are all these conflicting emotions and thoughts? Why can’t he just tell Mihawk that he doesn’t want to have dinner with him, nor does he want to forgive him, ever…?

What does he do?!

What does he do?

….

Mihawk seems just as surprised by Buggy’s willingness as Buggy himself is, “Ah! Really? Then how about we have our dinner tonight?” Wait, he wants to have that dinner tonight? Uh, wait, Buggy thought he’d have a few days to mentally prepare himself for all this, he didn’t think that Mihawk would rush into this whole thing like it’s nothing. Is it seriously possible for him to have a change of heart so quickly, and for him to actually be eager to be Buggy’s friend? God, Buggy hates this, he’s never been so confused in his life. He doesn’t want to say he liked the old Mihawk better, because he didn’t, but at least the old Mihawk was easy to predict. This newly changed and remorseful Mihawk is so… God, he’s weird, and that’s the only accurate way to describe him.

Buggy’s voice cracks slightly as he finally mutters a reply, “Uh, yeah…Yeah, that sounds good…” He tells Mihawk, but he’s lying. He doesn’t know how he can just go about his day normally when he knows that he’s going to have dinner with Mihawk later tonight. Mihawk smiles at him again, which only adds to Buggy’s feelings of dread and confusion, and after that, he tells Buggy that they can either eat together in the tent they use as a cafeteria on the island or that he and Buggy can go back to Mihawk’s tent and enjoy dinner and a glass of wine. Honestly, Buggy would rather eat in the comfort and safety of the cafeteria, where there’s a chance someone might be around at all times, but he also knows how his children are, and if Mihawk and Buggy are seen together in the cafeteria… God only knows what they’ll do or how they’ll react...

In the end, Buggy leaves the decision to Mihawk, and he should have known what option Mihawk would choose. An aloof loner such as Mihawk would obviously pick the comfort of his own living quarters over the chaotic and noisy cafeteria Buggy has set up on his island for all his men to enjoy, but he’s still a little surprised by Mihawk’s choice regardless. “Alright, I'll see you at my tent at say…Eight?” Mihawk suggests, and all Buggy can do is nod because what else can he do? He’s made his bed and now he’s going to have to lie in it, but he’s definitely not going to get drunk again, he’s really not the type of person who should be drinking…ever.

Buggy tries to relax and go about his day as he normally would, but the horrifying knowledge that he’s going to be having dinner with someone whom he’s supposed to hate and fear lingers in his mind, refusing to leave. He constantly wonders if he’s doing the right thing or if he’s doing something stupid that will result in him getting hurt or worse. Yet, he doesn’t want to go back on his word and tell Mihawk that he doesn’t actually want to have dinner with him because then what…? What if that pisses Mihawk off or causes unneeded tension to rise between the two?

Good grief, he doesn’t know how he’s supposed to be handling all this.

Eight o'clock approaches a lot quicker than he would have liked it to, and Buggy still isn’t mentally prepared for all this. Why is it that when he wants his days to go by quickly, they don’t? Instead, they seem to drag on for hours and hours at a time, always moving at a snail's pace no matter what Buggy does. But then, when he wants his days to slow down, they often pass him by in the blink of an eye. Is that not unfair? Buggy didn’t want to have dinner with Mihawk so soon… He needed more time to prepare for this...

The dinner his men cooked tonight happens to be another sea king, and Buggy’s so tired of eating beasts that look like they come straight out of fairy tales, but sea kings are the best thing for a booming island like Emptee Bluffs island, which has hundreds of mouths to feed now and is only growing in the numbers. Buggy grabs his food and a drink from the cafeteria, and then idles for a moment, unsure if he should really be having dinner alone with Mihawk in his tent.

He has to do this though, he has to get on Mihawk’s good side and start over with him. Things can’t remain the same between them, they have to change.

Buggy takes a deep breath and tries to calm his racing heart down a bit, slowly making his way towards Miahwk’s tent. He really doesn’t want to do this. He should just stand Mihawk up or send one of his men to tell Mihawk that he’s suddenly busy, but… he wants to live a good life. He needs to do this, and finally turn things around so he doesn’t have to live a life of constant fear… Who cares if he isn’t ready to forgive Mihawk yet or if he doesn’t want to forgive him at all? He should just shut up and do what’s right for himself for once…

It’s okay, everything will be okay. Mihawk said he wouldn’t hurt him, and he even said he’d put his sword away…It’s okay, everything is going to be just okay. Buggy seriously just needs to calm down and breathe. It’s fine, he’s fine. This is good for him. Maybe. Probably.

Buggy blinks and all of a sudden he’s in front of Mihawk’s tent, holding his dinner tray. He doesn’t even remember the walk over here, he just spaced out the entire trip as he tried to convince himself that what he’s doing is the right thing, and that maybe, just maybe Mihawk is being sincere… But then again, maybe he’s n—

Oh, for the love of God!

“Hawkeye?” Buggy calls out in a soft whisper, and when he doesn’t get a response the first time, he tries calling out to him again, this time with a little more volume in his voice, “Hey, Hawkeye, I'm here…!” he announces, and as soon as he gets permission to come into Mihawk’s tent, he takes another deep breath and proceeds to rip the band-aid off.

God, what is he doing?

#one piece #cross guild #changes #my writing

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ellewritesandrants · 1 year

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I don’t know why but the idea of a soulmate AU between Billy, Steve and Eddie captivates me, especially with the idea that Billy unknowingly gets Steve and Eddie to find out that they’re soulmates. Either in a modern AU where Billy’s a big fan of Corroded Coffin and Steve just managed to get a free ticket or something or in a canon AU where Billy and Steve are friends who want to smoke a little something so they buy from Eddie or Steve picks up the kids from Hellfire and one of them notices the marks match, I don’t really care how but I just want to explore the hurt and comfort of that.

Can you imagine Billy pining away, forever in love with the idea of his soulmate being the one who’ll save him from his situation given that’s what happened to his mom and he finds out that his crush is his soulmate but doesn’t want to tell him yet until he’s made something out of himself, until he’s deserving of love and all of a sudden, he finds out that his soulmate found his soulmate and it wasn’t Billy?

Imagine Steve happily dragging Eddie with him who already looks besotted with Steve and they show Billy the mark that he’s memorized from seeing it in the mirror thousands of times and as soon as he sees the smiles on their faces and the look of wonder in their eyes, he knows for a fact he can’t ruin their happiness. He isn’t selfish enough to do it even others would say he was and all he could do was pretend to be happy and smile at the happy couple.

Imagine Billy pulling away, either out of fear he’d inadvertently ruin their relationship or because he couldn’t stand being surrounded by what he couldn’t have and the kids weirdly enough noticing and trying to figure out what’s wrong. It doesn’t help that Neil’s always been bitter about soulmates and he loved rubbing it in Billy’s face how worthless everything regarding soulmates and soulmarks was. Billy used to be able to ignore it in the hopes of finding his soulmate but now, he knew the truth.

The kids come to a different conclusion, not realizing it was something regarding soulmates but instead, about Neil’s treatment of Billy. If canon, it would be El spying on Billy and seeing him being beaten into a pulp by his dad but in a modern AU, it would the aftermath wherein Max would ask Steve to come visit Billy and he drags Eddie along with him.

Either way, Steve and Eddie find out about the abuse that Billy’s been suffering through and the guilt that Steve felt was immeasurable for not seeing what his best friend was going through, too busy with being in love with his soulmate. With Hopper’s help, they get Neil behind bars but Billy’s a wreck and he needs people to take care of him.

Steve refused to leave Billy alone in the trailer while Max went to school and Susan went to work so he offered to have Billy move in with him and Eddie so they could take care of him. Since Steve only worked part-time and Eddie was in the same year as Billy and could drive them to and from school, it made a lot more sense than leaving him to his own devices.

Billy thinks he’s in a new level of hell as time goes by because getting to know Eddie and seeing everything he can’t have was absolutely painful and heartbreaking on another level. Being surrounded by their care and affection when he’s barely known it his entire life hurts on another level he can’t exactly describe but it’s a pain that hurts so good that he can’t exactly say no to it. His only saving grace is that his mark was casted over due to Neil’s last temper tantrum and there was no way that the boys would get to see it.

Months pass of Billy falling more and more in love with his soulmates who are already in love with each other and it hurts so good. Steve and Eddie never make him feel like an outsider the entire time he’s there but sometimes, his touch starvation reminds him of just how much he’d love to be squeezed in between them in any way possible.

Graduation comes and goes and Billy refused to let his father take his achievements away so he graduated valedictorian, dragging Eddie kicking and screaming past the finish line to graduate. Billy gets to make his speech, loudly supported by everyone and he makes sure to thank his newfound family for all of the support they’ve given him.

Of course, graduation wouldn’t be complete without a graduation party so they all get drunk and party in Steve’s house to celebrate six graduations especially Billy and Nancy who graduated valedictorian and salutatorian respectively. Both Jonathan and Nancy planned to go to the same college in Chicago while Robin and her girlfriend, Heather were heading to California soon. Billy had also gotten into the same college but he wasn’t sure about going because he’d be leaving so much behind, including his soulmates.

By now, Billy was in love with both of his soulmates and unbeknownst to him, they were both plently enamored with him and they’d been trying to build up the courage to ask him out. The party had been slightly delayed because Billy was getting his casts off about a week after graduation and they wanted to do shots, something that really wasn’t advisable with a cast.

Billy had planned to initially conceal his mark using makeup but a large part of him knew that it didn’t matter since Steve and Eddie were happy anyway so he didn’t bother. After all, both Steve and Eddie loved to show off their marks at every opportunity and no one gave a shit about Billy. Somehow, Billy had managed to keep his mark a secret from everyone but he knew Heather had some suspicions.

After some time, the drinking games start and somehow, Billy’s mark is revealed either in a dared striptease or by accident during a dare and it quickly sobers him up. He doesn’t notice at first but then Robin drunkenly pointed out that they had matching marks and the sober gaze of Eddie was too sharp for Billy to meet, instead choosing to run away, stumble to his car and hit the gas to the quarry.

It’s only there that he allows himself to breakdown and to mourn the end of what was a good friendship he had going on with his soulmates because he was sure they would want nothing to do with him now. He’s only just begun to run out of tears when he hears the telltale sound of Eddie’s van, meant to drive Nancy, Jonathan, Heather and Robin home later but was most likely currenly holding the last people Billy wanted to see.

For a moment, he considers running again but his Mama didn’t raise no coward, so he wipes his tears and stands his ground. Steve was a lot drunker than Billy was when Billy had left but it seemed he’d sobered up during the ride because he was clear-eyed when he was grabbing Billy and making sure that the blond wouldn’t run away.

Steve and Eddie trapped Billy in between them, in what seemed like a mockery of his fantasies only to have them play out right in front of him. Never in his wildest dreams did he think that his soulmates would tell him that they wanted him, that they loved him and wanted to take care of him and love him. Sure, it was after an argument about why Billy felt the need to hide but he had expected rejection or at the very least a mutual ignorance of his mark. He’d never considered it a possibility but the two were convinced to try and convince him to give them a chance.

After more than a few tears and attempts to get them to realize they were better off without Billy and his baggage, Steve and Eddie stubbornly managed to convince Billy to try with them. A few kisses convinced Billy to leave his car behind so that they could get it in the morning but for now, Steve and Eddie wanted him in Eddie’s van so they were sure he wouldn’t run.

The entire ride, Billy’s mind was trying to convince him that Steve and Eddie were better off without him, that he didn’t deserve this and that he was a fraud ruining a perfectly happy couple but Steve instinctively knew something was up and he’d had Billy laid across his lap with his hair being stroked to keep the bad thoughts away while Steve affirmed Billy of all of their feelings towards him.

Halfway through the ride home, Billy was asleep and Steve had no problem carrying the younger boy into their bed so that they could finally hold him the way they wanted to. Billy had long since told them of how lonely he felt in his room but as much as they had wanted to invite Billy to literally sleep with them, they hadn’t wanted to cross any boundaries.

Tonight though, all Steve and Eddie wanted to do was to fall asleep holding their newly found soulmate. Billy awoke to Steve’s warmth cocooning him and Eddie coming in to wake him with breakfast in bed. After a hearty meal, Steve and Eddie asked if they could court Billy to show him how serious they were about their feelings for him and Billy found that much like before, he couldn’t say no to his soulmates.

Months passed with Steve and Eddie constantly trying to prove their love of Billy who eventually concedes and moves in with them in the master bedroom. It isn’t long until having Billy in between Steve and Eddie is a norm and no longer a fantasy for Billy and he realizes just how much he didn’t let himself have when he hated himself. With Steve and Eddie’s love, they helped Billy realize he was always worthy of love, care and devotion and that they were ready to spend the rest of their lives together reminding him of that fact.

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove au #billy deserved better #billy hargrove deserved better #ellewritesandrants #billy hargrove angst #metalsandwich #metal sandwich #harringroveson #steddilly #stilldie #harringrove #mungrove #some steddie but endgame is harringroveson #billy x eddie #billy x steve #steve harrington #eddie munson

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ghostofskywalker · 5 months

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Hey! I really like your fics and I thought I could ask for something from your winter ficlets prompt list!

"I need your help, please" & my beloved Kix?

I don't mind about the readers pronouns, do what's most comfortable for you!

thank you so much, i hope you enjoy this!!

words: 1,023

summary: It becomes apparent that sometimes you need to ask for help, and it just so happens that this time the help comes from a handsome clone medic.

A Medic's Touch

clone troopers masterlist

Usually, when someone had a sling on their arm, they would have to ask for help, since many of the things they were able to do before were now significantly more challenging to do. But of course, you were never one to go by social conventions, and you had managed to convince yourself that everything was completely fine. Yes, you had broken your arm, but no, it wasn’t hindering your day-to-day duties.

Except for the fact that it was indeed hindering your day-to-day duties.

Things that used to be done without even a thought were now taking triple or even quadruple the amount of time, but you never complained. It wasn’t pride that kept you from saying anything, but rather a sense of worthlessness that you didn’t like to acknowledge. Things moved fast in the medbay of the Resolute, and even though you had been moved off active duty, you didn’t want to become a hindrance to the other medics who had more important jobs to do.

A large box of bandages slipped out of your fingers and fell from the very topmost shelf of the supply room, heading straight towards your face. Thankfully your reflexes hadn’t really been affected in the days following your injury, and you quickly ducked out of the way to watch the box clatter on the ground.

It made a noise louder than you would have liked, so you knew that someone would probably come running in seconds later, only for you to have to admit that you dropped the box and that everything would be fine. Sadly, your guess was spot on, and you had an embarrassed expression on your face as you turned to see Kix standing in the doorway. “Are you okay?” he asked.

“I’m fine.”

But your reassurance didn’t seem to get through to him, and his face still held an expression of worry. “What happened?”

“That box just slipped out of my hands,” you said. “I’m sorry if I disturbed you.”

“And you’re sure you’re okay?” he asked, completely ignoring the second part of your sentence.

“Yes Kix, I promise I’m fine.”

With that (hopefully) solved, he moved on to another topic you didn’t want to talk about. “What are you even doing in here anyway? Aren’t you on leave until your arm heals?”

Silence.

He was right, but you didn’t want to say it. “Not necessarily,” was how you chose to defend yourself, then quickly adding a “I’m just trying to help.”

“I know, but I don’t want you to hurt yourself more.”

“I won’t, I promise.”

He raised his eyebrows at you, and you knew the expression he was wearing. It was the one he used on the most stubborn of his brothers when they wouldn’t stop by after missions for necessary care, and yeah, you probably deserved to see it right now.

But along with the stare, Kix had another verbal weapon to use against you. “Isn’t it also time for you to change your bandages?”

You sighed. “I suppose.”

“Great! Then let’s head to one of the beds and I’ll get that done for you.”

“No, I can do it.”

Kix’s stare got even more intense (which was honestly something you didn’t even know was possible). “Are you sure?”

You stood your ground. “Yes.”

You expected him to put up more of an argument, but the clone medic just sighed and put his hands up, following you out to one of the stations in the main area of the medical bay.

You also expected him to stay, watching over your every move like a hawk, but he didn’t. As he walked away, you were struck with the sudden feeling that you would have really liked him to stay, but you did not have the time to deal with all that right now.

Immediately: you were faced with a new problem: the fact that you physically no longer had the range of motion to effectively change your bandage. This would be the first time you wouldn’t have help doing it, and you were completely wrong about being able to handle this by yourself. Kix was nearby, and you could tell that he was trying to keep an eye on you without looking like it. A sigh left your mouth as you caught his attention.

“What’s up?” he asked, feigning a nonchalant expression (as if he didn’t already know what you were going to ask).

“I need your help, please.” Your voice was small, but you finally admitted it out loud.

“I thought you were good all by yourself.”

The look on face was almost gleeful, but you knew it was all in good fun. Oh that kriffing idiot.

“Kix.”

Thankfully, he didn’t push the topic past that little joke. Immediately he started to change your dressing, making sure to take special care around the area that your bone had been broken in, and never once did he do something that caused you pain.

You watched him work with a rapt expression on his face, a slightly furrowed brow as he gently traced his hands over your injured arm. Once the sling was back on, he gave your hand a quick squeeze before letting go, and you were overwhelmed with the sudden urge to get up and kiss him.

You didn’t, of course. But you wanted to.

“That’s it!” he said, as he tossed your old bandages in the trash.

“Thank you,” was your sincere response. “It looks like I’m going to have to get used to asking for help sometimes.”

“It’s not a bad thing to do,” he said, a look in his eyes you couldn’t quite read. “I’m- we’re all here to help you.”

You chose to ignore that little stutter. “I know, but I never want to be a burden.”

Kix smiled. “Trust me, you could never be.” The doors to the room opened at that moment, and Kix rushed up to help whoever had just stepped in, but it was okay. You didn’t even know what you would have said had you had the chance, but there was one certainty in your brain: you absolutely believed him.

- the end -

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#winterficlets23 #kix x reader #kix x you #kix #clone trooper kix x reader #clone medic kix x reader #clone medic kix #clone trooper x reader #star wars x reader

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bird-inacage · 1 year

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Love in the Air: Sky’s Truth Scene

So the other scene I MUST absolutely do a deep dive on is Sky’s truth scene. This occurs immediately after the ambush aftermath. Before Sky had even stepped into the condo, he made a promise to himself that he would tell Prapai the truth. Because not sharing his past with Prapai was slowly eating him up inside. In this episode, it’s revealed that Sky was living in fear of what Prapai would think of him, of how he would react once he found out.

So Sky decides to tell Prapai that Gun abused him and essentially shares a short re-telling of what we saw in the flashbacks. This is Sky finally telling Prapai his truth, and the cause for this trauma. As painful as it is for Sky to share that incident with Prapai, its the final piece of the puzzle that allows Sky to impart why he is the way he is, to the man that he loves.

As Sky is telling his story, Prapai is incredibly gentle and quiet throughout. He constantly strokes the back of Sky’s head - provides his warm, steadfast presence and allows Sky to say what he needs to say. This stroking action is a gesture of comfort first and foremost. We see Prapai do this a lot with Sky, but it also acts as a coaxing action. ‘It’s okay, you tell me in your own time, take it easy, I’m listening.’

Then Sky says the part that upsets Prapai the most.

“I’m trash. I’m damaged goods. When I returned home, I was like a broken doll. I didn’t speak. Didn’t listen. I spaced out so much that my dad got worried.”

For Sky, these are his inner demons. These are the poisonous type of inner thoughts that have plagued him ever since the abuse. Thoughts that have been deeply ingrained on Sky’s psyche. This isn’t just about how he felt back then, its how he still feels now. And Prapai has seen facets of that first-hand. The fact that Sky says this with a self-deprecating smile, speaks volumes. It’s not conjecture in Sky’s mind, it’s a matter of fact. Like he’s admitting a shameful part of his own character.

As Prapai listens to Sky say these things about himself, it deeply, deeply hurts him. One, because it insinuates a degree of self-loathing that derives from thinking this was brought on by one’s self. That Sky still believes he was at fault for causing this to happen. Sky doesn’t say, ‘He’s trash, He’s damaged, He’s an absolute lowlife for doing this to me’, it’s ‘I’m the worst, I’m nothing, I’m worthless’. And Prapai cannot bear hearing Sky say that about himself. Two, that Prapai (who loves Sky so dearly), knows and sees that Sky is everything but those things.

Sky is sweet, he’s considerate, he’s loving. The Sky backstory really cemented my take on that Sky has always been an ardent child who wants desperately to be loved and to love. He just has so much love to give. And we saw evidence of this at the start of the episode. Sky is adorably clingy, he’s affectionate, he’s wanting. When he’s finally opened up to another human being, he showers them with his undiluted love and attention. And that earnest love is so distinctly palpable and wholesome. Sky truly gives his everything to someone he loves. Every ounce and every drop of himself he can muster.

Prapai remains silent, shaking his head in disbelief and seemingly taking this all in, but his eyes are screaming out. You can literally hear the thoughts in his head blaring, ‘No, that’s not true. None of what you’re saying is true. You’re the most incredible person I know. I love you so much. Please, please don’t say that about yourself.’ When you love someone else, you see all the amazing qualities they possess, the qualities that made you fall in love with them in the first place. To have your significant other say such awful things about themselves, knowing that there’s no easy way or quick fix to erase the cumulative years of self-hatred, is just unbearable. Loving someone isn’t enough to convince them to love themselves. Healing is very much a process that has to take place within oneself. Prapai knows this, and so he doesn’t deny what Sky’s saying. Because denying those things won’t dilute the impact they have on Sky. So all he can do is be heartbroken on Sky’s behalf. To mourn the Sky that could have been if none of this had happened.

When you hear stories in retrospect, aware that you cannot change the course of history, it can cause anyone to feel immensely helpless. Knowing that there’s nothing you can do to repair the past. This may also be a real point of fear for Prapai. It could have so easily gone a different way. For Sky to bear the brunt of that trauma and come out the other side - to be how he is and where he is today is nothing short of a miracle. There was always another possible trajectory in which Prapai never meets Sky. A version of events where Prapai doesn’t ever get to prove to Sky that he deserves to be loved and cherished. Where Prapai doesn’t get to do his darned best to heal and protect Sky. Prapai can now vividly envision how much could have been at stake, and how much could be have been lost. This wonderful love he may have never even known.

Then Sky asks, “Can I love you? Can I?” And this is such an fitting piece of dialogue that encompasses Sky so completely. He desperately loves Prapai, and wants to love him freely, fully. But he feels he has to ask permission. That little additional “Can I?” sounds like the child in Sky speaking. ‘Please let me love you. Please don’t turn me away.’ It almost sounds like Sky is additionally implying, ‘I know my love may be a burden, but I promise I’ll be good and I won’t overstep.’ This links back to what Sky said last episode about Gun trying to programme Sky to be obedient. The fact that Sky even feels he has to ask just destroys Prapai, who has wanted nothing but Sky’s love. Who treasures Sky’s love above all else.

Sky asking if he can love Prapai can also be interpreted as - do I deserve to love again? Do I deserve to burden you with my baggage, with myself? Am I even capable of loving again (like a normal, undamaged person)? Akin to how Sky’s nightmares still plague him, Sky feels a huge sense of hopelessness over the shadow this has cast over him and his future. He has no idea when he will be free of this, if ever.

Every step of this conversation peels back another layer of Sky’s withered sense of his own self-worth. A chasm that Gun intentionally created. So Prapai is understandably tearful and devastated

And yet Sky, despite all this, is still the caring and considerate soul that he always has been. He asks Prapai why he’s crying and carefully wipes away his tears. Through all his insecurities and anxieties, Sky is still able to believe in Prapai’s good and Prapai’s devotion. He doesn’t want Prapai to cry out of guilt over something he could have in no way prevented. Because Sky is thankful. He’s immensely grateful. For everything Prapai has done for him. For everything Prapai wishes he could have done for him. It certainly doesn’t eradicate the past, but its a colossal comfort to Sky. It’s gives him strength to keep fighting.

Prapai goes on to emphasise that this isn’t about Sky asking whether he deserves to love Prapai, but Prapai can’t bear the thought of Sky loving anyone but him. Because Prapai loves him so much, he’s possessive and fiercely protective. He knows what a beautiful human being Sky is, and just how lucky he is to have Sky’s affection. So he also wants Sky affections to belong only to him, and to him alone.

I do believe that Sky finally sharing this with Prapai was clearly a huge weight off his chest. Yes, this conversation by no means ‘fixes’ the issues and trauma that Sky is still working through. But Sky and Prapai are taking those healthy first steps to allow Sky to begin healing properly, thoroughly. And that begins with acknowledgement, transparency, and letting go.

#LITA #love in the air #love in the air series #love in the air episode 13 #LITA finale #LITA meta #LITA analysis #prapaisky #paisky #prapai x sky #sky x prapai #yes i have a lot to say about this scene too #i love sky so much

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winchestergirl2 · 8 months

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August Reading Recs

To show some love and appreciation to all the amazing writers here on tumblr, here are all the fantastic fics I've read this month. 💖

Many of these fics and blogs are 18+ only, and NSFW please heed the author's individual fic warnings and requests regarding no minors. I am not responsible for your media consumption.

2023 Reading Rec List

The Boys

Soldier Boy

Break Me Down Part 17 | The Epilogue @zepskies

Authors Summary: You’re a private investigator by trade, but now you happily sit at a desk — leading a surveillance team at Supe Affairs. After managing to end Homelander in New York, Soldier Boy escapes custody. You are recruited for the manhunt, joining Butcher’s team.

Truly, you joined the S.A. for the right reasons. But after you become his accidental hostage, Soldier Boy will break down every single one of them…

Love Actually Part 1 @zepskies

Authors Summary: Ben gets in late on Christmas Eve with a Grinch-like attitude, but you’re determined to force some holiday cheer into his system.

Love Actually Part 2 | Part 3 @zepskies

Authors Summary: You and Ben steel yourselves in order to meet your crazy family for Christmas dinner.

Supernatural

Dean Winchester

The Widow @pink-sparkly-witch

Authors Summary: Sam and Y/N are happily married, but everything changes after a fatal car accident leaves her a widow. The Winchester motto: “Family Don’t End with Blood,” takes on a whole new meaning for Y/N as she navigates her new normal with the help of her brother-in-law, Dean. But what no one can tell her is what happens when she falls in love again.

Escape Chapter 58 | Chapter 60 @soaringeag1e

Authors Summary: A serial killer is reeking havoc around Lawrence, Kansas, and Detective Dean Winchester is getting really sick of finding more and more bodies. But one day, he gets a call about another victim. But instead of the location of another body, he gets news that this one escaped the hell of this mans actions.

The Fallout @justagirlinafandomworld

Authors Summary: When Sam meets his true Omega, you fear your time with the Winchesters is fated to end. Before they can hurt you, you decide to distance yourself. But Dean isn’t willing to let you get away so easy.

Welcome to Being a Girl @negans-lucille-tblr

Authors Summary: When a spell puts you in Dean’s body and Dean in yours, there’s more than one problem that arises.

What A Girl Wants @writercole

Reckless and Raging @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior

Authors Summary: Y/N knows she made a mistake, but Dean’s fury at her isn’t making it easy to admit to. But why is he so completely furious?

Hold On, I'm Coming @ravengirl94

Authors Summary: When a freak accident lands you in some trouble, the local fire department and a particularly handsome firefighter come to your rescue. Dean Winchester catches your eye immediately with his charm and kindness, but being Chief Singer’s daughter could cause some serious problems. You and Dean have a choice to make: defy your father’s wishes and face the consequences, or go your separate ways...

Stood Up @justkending

Authors Summary: You haven’t had a date night in a while, and an old hunting companion calls you up for drinks. Sneaking out from Dean and Sam questioning you, you make it to the bar only to realize you’ve been stood up. Coming home you feel defeated and worthless. Lucky for you, you have someone who thinks you deserve better.

Sam Winchester

Untitled Sam drabble @girl-next-door-writes

Tell Me @thinkinghardhardlythinking

Authors Summary: Sam wants to know what the reader wants him to do to her in bed

This Is Crazy, Isn't It? @katelyn--renee

Authors Summary: The trio enjoy a night out in Las Vegas. Things don’t go quite as expected.

Untitled Sam drabble @supernaturalfreewill

Sam and Dean Winchester (no pairing)

Bar Fight @impala-dreamer

Smallville

Jason Teague

Kiss Me First @mind-empty-just-fictional-people

Authors summary: you keep a student after class to work on their late english homework, but coach teague wants his star quarterback at practice

#winchestergirl2 reads #winchestergirl2 recs #fic recs #soldier boy fic #soldier boy x reader #dean winchester fic #dean winchester x reader #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester fic #jason teague x reader #jason teague fic

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totallynotandie · 1 month

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A Lot’s On My Mind

Or, my rewrite of MH where Brian doesn’t die (It’s worse than death!)

God, he hopes Tim will understand.

It's the last thought The Hooded Man has before his head hits the concrete, the pain isn’t as bad as he thought it would be but the squishy feeling of the back of his head makes him feel sick. He focuses on Tim instead, almost missing the sight of his old best friend peaking over the balcony. He wants to know how he’s thinking, but the nothingness is too welcoming. He’s wrapped in it like a blanket, wrapping him up until it covers his eyes and he can’t do anything but sleep.

He can finally sleep.

The nothingness is still there but he knows he’s somewhere else. A place he has escaped time and time again but only really remembers when he’s there.

The Ark.

The last place he wanted to end up after that stunt. He can’t find it in him to stand again despite the pain being gone.

Everything Is Normal.

The sky is so dark that he can’t tell if he’s closed his eyes or not and the thought makes him so tired. He just wants to sleep now but if he is still alive then he needs to leave this place. He doesn’t want to know what would happen if he let himself drift away here.

Food For The Ark.

The thought hits him hard enough to make him fling upwards, the motion causing his head to spin. He brings his hand back to assess the damage, cringing at the squishy feeling of what could only be blood and deciding not to look for his sanity.

Everything Is Fine.

He decides that it's probably a concussion, not the worst thing he has dealt with and it won’t be the last - probably. He’ll have to worry about that after he escapes. He digs a flashlight out of his hoodie pocket, using it to at least see the ground in front of him.

The Hooded Man pushes himself to his feet, stumbling over his lanky legs while fighting the blurry vision caused by his small headache. That was the one thing he enjoyed about The Ark - its ability to at least numb most of the pain. His normally dry throat didn’t burn while he breathed, he almost felt like he could speak clearly if he tried but what was the point when there was no one to speak to?

A part of him missed talking, he remembers never being able to shut up when he was younger and made acquaintances everywhere he went. Everyone knew him- or at least knew he was a friendly guy. He was never alone, always having someone there to talk about the latest shitty movie or any other pointless thing that mattered at the time. But he was alone now, alone and staring down into a dark hole that seemed to go on forever.

Maybe a fall from there would work better.

He turns away from the hole and is met with the sight of someone else lying on the ground.

Jay.

By the looks of it, there's nothing left but a shell - A broken mind.

There is nothing he can do for him now and so he walks away. But the darkness swallows the light and causes his flashlight to be worthless.

Keep moving.

He can’t stop, he has to get out, he has to see them again.

His flashlight works enough to land on The Operator's blank face.

He is falling- no, he’s sinking in the water now. It's cold but that's the least of his problems with all the worries running through his head. He doesn’t want to die, he just wants to get away from its influence. He misses being normal, he misses his friends- He misses his mom.

He couldn’t stop himself from mourning a life he could no longer have- it infected him with something incurable, something that was going to always come back. The tears mix with the water while he thinks of the worst.

This is where I should stay now. Away from anyone I could ever hurt again. Away from-

He knew that white mask but he couldn’t bring himself to reach for it. He hadn’t seen Tim use the mask for months now. Had he been able to break away from it? Was he thrown down here to be taunted by it? Or was this just where things went when they weren’t needed anymore?

That made the most sense to him- what would he even do if he came back? He already proved time and time again that he didn’t have the guts to kill someone. That’s how Alex kept getting away from him and it made him feel like the biggest dumbass between the four of them. But he tried to fix that but helping in other ways- he tried to tell the others everything he knew, But no matter how hard he tried it only came out in riddles or code.

This was the clearest he’s been able to think in a long time.

He finally makes it to the end of the water but there's no ground, like a flipped image he falls through like the sky was just one big pond. He feels like he’s falling forever but he can’t bring himself to open his eyes. Wasn’t all this supposed to end the last time he fell? It made his stomach churn in the way it does when he sees blood just thinking about what a big splat he’ll make.

But he’s laying face first in the grass now and he doesn’t remember landing. He can’t even remember if he was falling anymore- was it just messing with his head? The air smells better here, smells familiar but he’s too busy collecting himself to connect what it is.

He rips his mask off after pushing himself up to sit on his knees, looking around dumbfoundedly at the familiar scene before him.

He was home.

But he shouldn’t be, dead people don’t get to return home.

But he also couldn’t ignore how…alive he felt. Like a video game character who just used a health potion. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt this good, even before The Operator he would always have something sore- a hangnail or a mosquito bite. It felt unnatural to feel no pain. But he could still feel- he felt his knees getting damp from the grass, the warm night air on his face, the cool feeling of breathing it all in.

He was home and he was…free?

Brian could still think clearly like he was in The Ark but the world in front of him was full of color. He was in the backyard of the house he grew up in, the house his mom owns.

I haven’t seen her since that morning I left to shoot with Alex...

The day Brian died The Hooded Man took his place, but Brian is back now and he misses his mom. He’s quickly on his feet and walking towards the back door, ignoring how the door is painted a different color. The familiar white is replaced with red and the chicken sign she always had hanging on it is gone too.

It doesn’t matter, people change and so do the things they own.

He doesn’t have a key, but years of accidentally forgetting his key somewhere made him learn how to learn how to pick locks. Luckily he remembers that he already broke the lock on one of the dining room’s windows when he was still learning. Deciding to work smarter, not harder, he rounds the house and tries to open the window.

It’s Locked.

It looks like his mom fixed it but he’s still able to pick the lock. It slides open easily and he still expects Cooper to run up and greet him- probably waking his mom with his barking. But all he hears is the ticking of a grandfather clock that he doesn’t quite remember his mom owning.

It’s been like, 6 years? I’m probably just isn’t remembering right.

He pulls himself in, his feet muffled by the new white carpet that his muddy boots soiled. He’ll have to clean that up later because he’s too distracted by all the new changes his mom put into the house while he’s been gone. The dining table stayed the same but where it normally had fresh flowers it now held some piece of modern art, he’s unsure what it’s supposed to be as it just looks like a white cube with more cubes flouting off it.

She sure has gotten some weird tastes since I’ve been gone.

He chuckles while he picks it up, flipping it around in his hand to look it over. He cringes at the mud that he leaves on it and decides it’ll be a better surprise if he cleans up his mess before she wakes up. The broom closest is where he remembers it, but the products in it are more expensive than he remembers.

Did dad start sending her more money?

He wonders, a bitter taste from the thought of his absent father whose only good came from the steady paychecks. Brian hasn’t seen him since he was 10, the last time either of them saw him while he gave his mother a wad of cash and flew off to Vegas. Brian thought he would have gambled everything away already, but it looks like his father took all of the familys luck.

He grabs some sprays and realizes the rags aren’t where they usually are. Looking around again he notices that the familiar tan wallpaper is now gone and replaced with an off-white paint, making the whole room brighter. Something about it made Brian feel sick, like he should be realizing something but his brain just wont let him.

I just need some water…can’t remember the last time I’ve had any.

He stumbles to the kitchen, trying to ignore his racing heart. He tries not to notice that he doesn’t recoganze any of the mugs, filling one up at the refurnished sink and chugging all the water down in big gulps. He repeats this a few times, not realizing how much he missed water even after having almost drowned 10 minutes earlier. When he’s done he leans back against the sink and lets out a sigh, basking in the feeling of being in his childhood home again.

But instead of smelling like breakfast food and cheap flowers it smells like artificial vanilla and pizza. When he opens his eyes he stares at the remodeled kitchen, unable to recognize anything from his childhood. He desperately tries to find anything familiar, pausing when his eyes land on the fridge.

Pictures of a family that looks too happy to be considered real replace his baby photos. He can’t help but to slowly walk towards it, pulling what had to be a stock photo off, letting the magnet hit the floor while he just stares at it.

This has to be some kind of sick joke.

“Put your hands where I can see ‘em’.” A man stands at the door in a bathrobe, a handgun pointing expertly at Brian's head. How long had he been staring at the photo? How is the stock image man in the same room as him?

“Why are you in my house?” His voice is deeper than he remembers but much smoother than it should be from not using it for the last 6 or 7 years. He keeps his eyes on the floor, hoping so desperately that it isn’t what he thinks is happening to him. Stuff like that only happened in cheesy movies.

“This ain’t your house, me and my family been living here for years.” The safety clicks and Brian looks up at the man, tears running down his face at a revelation that he was still desperately hoping to be false.

The older man stares at him for a moment, eyes widening before he slowly lowers his gun. “Wait…wait a moment. You’re that missing kid. Brian Thomas? We still have a paper up for you in the office.”

Kid? He had to be in his late 20s by now.

“What happened to my mom? Grace Thomas. She lived here.”

“Oh…kid.”

He didn’t need to hear anything else after that, a different kind of ringing filling his ears as if to try and protect him. But it quickly became familiar when he saw its face pushed against the dining room window, only slightly visible from his view from the kitchen and the off-duty cop in front of him. Thoughts that he knew now weren’t his filled his mind, thoughts of the stock photo family staining the stupid white carpet red.

How dare they live so happily in what was supposed to be his home.

He bites his tongue to try and ignore what the operator is putting in his head, but when did it get in the dining room?

Mom died because I wasn’t here to take care of her when she was sick.

He knows that. It doesn’t need to keep repeating it to him.

“What the fuck in that??”

Gunshots snap him out of it for a moment, watching the poor man in front of him desperately try and shoot at the creature and somehow miss every shot despite his close range. Brian can’t help but be a little impressed that he had the balls to do that, the thought had never crossed his mind.

There’s nothing left for me now, I might as well do as I’m told.

The gun is still in his pocket and while he knows that thought really isn’t his own he still can’t get over the relief he knows he will feel after he finally gets this all over with. Maybe it will finally leave him alone this time.

It’s not like his mom will get the chance to be disappointed in him now.

For the first time since he became The Hooded Man, he raises the gun with a clear head.

For the first time, He does as The Operator wishes.

#marble hornets #marble hornets fanfic #brian thomas #the hooded man #mh hoody #mh hoodie #tim wright #mh masky #marble hornets comic

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or0ch1maru · 2 months

Note

i have an idea for some angsty headcanons.

reader got into an accident/fight and got a brain injury making her loose some memories, ability to communicate, walk etc.

For a solid three minutes I was playing eenie meenie miney mo, trying to pick who I wanted for this lol. Soooooo tonight will consist of some angst with our sadistic bby who has a hard time expressing his emotions😩

Warnings?: argument, reader being called stupid, slight memory loss, raised tone of voice. Comfort but not until the end

Hidan x GN reader😘

•

•you cursed that shinobi, the one who caused you to lose some of your memories

•because now, you’re stuck in an uncomfortable argument with your partner

•it was rare that Hidan got upset with you, he usually got pissed off with Kakuzu, or an enemy when on a mission, but it still stung when his tone changed and he’d look away from you when speaking

• “it’s not my fault this happened..” you pouted, trying to defuse the situation.

•losing your memory and receiving a head injury was NOT your fault in the slightest. The rogue shinobi you fought against, did their research and knew your weaknesses.

•which was only one. Hidan

• “if you weren’t so stupid, we wouldn’t be having this conversation” Hidan retorted back. His tone shifted, being one full of frustration.

•this fight started when Hidan had mentioned plans you two put together a few weeks ago, but that obviously changed after your accident.

•the day came around and you forgot. He had wanted to take you out for a nice dinner and movie date. The two of you being so busy with back to back missions that you two barely got a full nights rests in the same bed before having to run off.

• “I-.” You would start, opening and closing your mouth multiple times before giving up entirely. Not sure what can help calm down your lover.

• “shut up.” He snaps over his shoulder at you. Tears begin to burn in the corners of your eyes. You’d wish he’d just tell you what was wrong but it’s not always that easy.

•being a member of the akatsuki, let alone dating one would always come with risks and complications.

•they all come from a difficult past, some worse than others. All coming with trauma and issues of some kind

•and you knew that, and it didn’t stop you from falling in love with Hidan. The most sadistic being of this entire group

• “please, just tell me what’s wrong.” You manage to say. Your tone soft, unlike your usual confident voice.

• “it’s nothing important.” Your grey haired lover begins. His tone laced with annoyance. Deep down he knows this isn’t your fault, and he tried his hardest not to let it affect him. Some days just being harder than others for him.

• “apparently today wasn’t special enough for you to remember. What kind of partner are you anyway?” Your heart drops, he doesn’t mean it. He’d never mean something so hurtful. Is what you tell yourself.

• “it’s not my fault…” you say again, the four words fall from your mouth through a choked sob.

•ever since your accident, you’d notice you would forget the smallest of things. Like where you placed the remote after you paused a movie or heating something up in the microwave, only to be reminded when somebody went to use it later on.

•but over the few weeks since you hit your head, the nagging feeling of worthlessness have hit you harder and harder.

•you felt like a failure as a comrade, a ninja, and as a partner. Just like Hidan said, what kind of partner are you if you can’t remember something so basic and easy.

• “get out. Just get out.” You cocked your head and looked at him, his back still turned towards you and you could see the strain he’s putting on himself to avoid looking at you

•which only made you feel even worse

•you crawled out of the comfort of his bed, nervously playing with the sleeves of your jacket as you walked towards the door. “I’m sorry..” the two words fall from your lips quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. But you were still loud enough that he heard you.

•you slipped out of his room without another peep, and disappeared into the confines of yours.

•over the span of a few hours, you’d gone through a range of emotions. Your cries turned to anger, cursing the person who caused this, to telling yourself that you’re okay, and then back to crying.

•sometime during this, you fell asleep, arms wrapped tightly around one of your pillows, wishing it was your boyfriend

•it was late into the evening at this point. Hidan had a lot of time to reflect on how he treated you. Feeling like shit, he opened your door, finding you sleeping. A small smile formed on his face at how cute you looked

• “baby. Love, wake up.” Your partners voice gently pulled you from your rest. You open your eyes, finding him hovering over you. One arm holding him up while the other sits on your waist.

• “I’m sorry. I was an ass to you.” Hidan’s usual gruff voice was soft, his voice a whisper as he finds his words. He lowers his forehead until it’s touching yours.

• “there’s no excuse for how I acted. It’s not your fault. None of this is okay? I love you baby.” He coos, planting soft kisses along your jawline before pressing his lips against yours.

•the two of you stayed like that for a while, snaking your arms around the back of his neck. The immortal flipped, now laying on his back while you straddle his hips. Hands planted firmly on his torso.

• “I’d understand if you don’t forgi-.” He starts, you cut him off by pressing a kiss to his lips. “Stop talking. It’s okay. It’ll take us time to get used to this. Just wish we didn’t have to, you know?” He nods, his eyes wide, full of patience and love as he looks at you.

• “just do me one solid okay?” He states, his hands palming the soft flesh of your hips and upper thighs. “If I ever, and I mean ever, speak to you like that again, I give you permission to smack the fuck outta me.” He finishes, a smile toying on the corner of his lips but his expression is firm. Letting you know he truly means what he’s saying.

•you press another kiss to his lips before pulling away to look at him. “Okay.” You say softly, giving him a gentle smile. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you to his chest. His fingers pressing into the muscles of your back, loosening all the knots and built up tension you’re carrying. A faint chuckle leaving his lips when a snore falls from your mouth.

#akatsuki #akatsuki members #hidan x you #hidan headcanon #hidan x reader #hidan naruto #hidan akatsuki #Hidan angst #hidan #Hidan fluff

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psychedelic-ink · 1 year

Text

Envy None

pairing: javier peña x fem!reader

genre: smut, hurt/comfort, minors dni

word count: 1.7k

summary: you're upset and Javier isn't letting you leave the office until you tell him what's wrong.

warnings: reader struggling with self worth/image & loneliness, a dash of self hate (reader), office sexromance, piv, praise kink, a bit of cum eating at the end but very mild

a/n: once again i'm begging javier to fuck the sadness out of me

“You just dont understand, Javi— And you can’t fucking understand,”

“Understand what?”

“Just leave me alone, please. I promise I’ll be okay tomorrow—Just…Just let me be for now,”

He doesn't move away, his gaze cold and his stance on the matter unwavering. His look unsettles you. The way he moves his jaw unsettles you. Javier makes you feel so tiny and weak and just downright pathetic compared to him. You’re not even angry at him, he’s just too stubborn to let you go. You’re just going through one of those days. You look in the mirror and see nothing but a worthless pile of bones and meat staring back at you. Someone who has no spark, someone who isn't interesting or fun– the eternal friend, the person to be called upon when something is needed.

And Javier, being the beautiful man that he is, just aggravates you on days like these. He can make anyone swoon as long as he sets his mind to it. He smiles, unleashes a compliment and it's done. He could make the word kneel with just his smile. To sit across from that and try to work made you despair. Now, he refuses to let you go, trapping you in the empty office with his broad frame filling the gap of the door.

“Please, just tell me what I did wrong. I hate seeing you like this,”

Your gaze threatens to soften. The crease between his brows is deep, worry crosses his face again and again, it comes and goes like waves. One moment his face hardens as if this is just a disagreement between colleagues, and the next moment he looks as if he’s going to start begging.

You blink and swallow down your admiration.

“Well, sorry to break it to you but most days I am like this, I just hide it better.”

“That gives me all the more reason to not let you go,”

His demand for the truth makes anger boil underneath your skin. You hate that he acts so attentive now, especially after months of you trying to bury your emotions. Never once have you thought about telling him—Someone like him would never go for someone like you. To be honest deep down you feel that he already knows but ignores it.

Your nostrils flare. You want him to feel your pain. It’s a nasty, vile thought. He stares at you patiently, arms crossed against his chest, and lips a thin line. The lights of the hall flicker.

“You want to know the truth?” you say, voice low and laced with venom. “I fucking hate myself Javi. I hate how I look, I hate how I am. I hate that no one cares for me and I hate myself even more for convincing myself that it’s okay that no one gives a shit. You’ll never understand what it is like to be locked in my head, drowning in my own emotions.” your throat tightens, tears burning through the edges of your vision. The venom becomes self pity, a silent beg for him to let you go. “Please just move.” you choke out, voice thickening.

Javier does indeed move, but not in a way that you expect.

He closes the distance, his warm hands cradling your cheeks, you feel the pads of his thumbs smearing the tears across your cheeks.

“I’m sorry,” he says, his voice cracking. “I—I didn’t know. I should’ve asked sooner,”

You want to tell him that he couldn’t have known, that it isn’t his fault. You also want to throw his apology in his face, challenge him, and say that it doesn’t matter what he says. But it does.

God dammit it does.

Your chest heaves, lips quivering as you suppress the need to break down. There’s a knot in your throat that prevents you from breathing properly, you try to swallow around it. It doesn’t go away.

“It’s okay,” he smiles sadly, thumbs still moving along your skin. “It’s okay. I’m here now and I care for you. I’m never leaving.”

He pulls you to his chest, and you find comfort in the scent of smoke, sandalwood and bergamot. You break down then. Tears flow freely, it burns. It burns so bad that it makes you cry harder. Hiccups and sobs muffled by his chest. You feel his hand at the back of your head, rubs at your neck as his other hand moves along your back.

When you finally break away —still sniffling and refusing to look at him— his fingers touch your chin and lift your gaze. Without a word he leans into you, his lips capturing your in a slow tender kiss. His tongue moves into your mouth slightly, as if he’s afraid to hurt you. The moment of his lips against yours is fleeting, he moves away but still close enough for your foreheads to touch.

“Tell me what you need,” his voice is thick.

You don’t dare to look away. It’s as if the world has disappeared, leaving only you and him in an endless void. He asked you what you needed. You’ve only really needed one thing.

“You. Even if it’s just for tonight, please be mine. Body, mind and heart. It hurts, Javi. It hurts so bad I don’t know what to do with myself anymore. I feel like a shell of a person,”

“You’re not,” he says, his lips brushing against yours. “You can have me as long as you need me. As long as I make you feel better, I’ll stay with you. You’re not alone, never have been,”

His words sound so tender and sweet. A nasty voice in the back of your head whispers that this is nothing but pity, that Javier can’t stand a woman —a colleague— being upset in his presence. And maybe it’s true, but Javier doesn’t allow you to address the voice in your head. He drowns the self doubt with his hands and lips. They skim over your body, your curves, his touch is healing, feels like sundrops on your skin.

Javier guides you into one of the empty rooms, his lips constantly on your like a man starving. He doesn’t turn on the lights of the room, the flickering of the fluorescent bulbs outside enough to paint the room in a moon-like gleam. He lays you down across the carpeted floor. His lips move to your neck, nipping at the sensitive skin. The sudden sharpness of his teeth makes you gasp.

His lips leave you briefly to push up your shirt, he cups you from above your bra. Your nipples pebble underneath his thumbs, he groans into your mouth, lips on you once more as he grinds his hips. Your breathing stutters, your heart beat loud in your ears. When he pulls back a string of saliva follows, he looks down at you, his pupils eating at the color of his eyes.

“Look at you,” he murmurs. “You’re so beautiful,”

His hands paw at your breasts again, feeling the lace underneath his palms. Tears flood your vision once more, your throat swollen with emotion. Seeing this Javier leans in, his tongue pushes past your lips and at the same time he pushes up your bra. He provides the skin contact you’ve been craving for. You feel the warmth, the callouses of his skin. Your body arches into his touch.

“Please,” you whisper, both hands laying idly on the floor. You want him to take you however he pleases.

When he’s inside you it’s the most beautiful feeling. His cock stretches you the perfect amount, reaching deep with every thrust. The curve of his nose is pressing between your breasts, his tongue circling one nipple and moving to the other. You hear him muttering ‘beautiful’ over and over into your damp skin, your clench around him and he bites you, a soft, yet sharp feeling that sends tremors along your skin.

“You’re so wet. So ready for me to take you,” he breathes and moves to your neck, his cock slowly moves in and out. “Thank you for letting me in,” he says brokenly.

Finally your arms move, they coil around his shoulders, hugging him tight as if he might disappear. The drag of his cock is heavenly, his hand reaches between your bodies, fingers deftly drawing circles around your clit. You whisper his name, it feels like a sin on your tongue. He asks for you to say it again and you do.

Your orgasm can only be described as shattering. You feel it in the tips of your fingers, on the tip of your tongue. You squeeze your eyes shut and simmer in the feeling of warmth and pleasure.

“That’s it, just let yourself go for me. You’re so good, so perfect—”

Your sudden moan drowns out the rest of his words, pleasure crawls up your legs to your stomach. He’s still fucking you, cock dripping with slick, he presses his lips against your ear.

“Tell me where to come,”

As much as you want to feel him deep inside, you want to feel him on your skin more.

“On my chest,” you breathe shakily. “On my tits—”

You briefly regret your decision as he pulls out, feeling cold and empty. But when Javier straddles your chest and starts to stroke himself only an inch away from your mouth, the regret is replaced with hunger. Soft grunts fall from his lips, his cock drooling over his fist, precum dripping to your chest.

Javier comes with your name on his lips. His thighs squeeze around the frame of your body, his breath hitching as his hips stutter forward. You feel him on your chest, neck, lips.

Wanting a taste, you stick your tongue out but before you can he crashes into you. Hungrily tasting you and himself on your mouth. He kisses you until your lungs burn for air, but you’re not one to break away, he is.

“Want you to be happy,” he says, words bleeding into one another. “I’m here for you. And whenever you call me, I’ll be there to make it hurt a little bit less, as much as I can anyway.”

You want to thank him but teats slide down your cheeks instead, the only difference is that you’re smiling.

a/n: honestly the more I think about it, the more I feel like this could act as a prequel to "pacify her" even tho that wasn't my intention sdcdcvd but anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed it! I was in my feelings again and javier always makes me feel better 💙

#javier peña x y/n #javier peña fanfiction #javier peña x reader #javier pena x y/n #javier peña x you #javier pena x you #javier pena x reader #narcos fanfiction #narcos fanfic #narcos x reader

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whump-me · 8 months

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Conquest, Chapter 4: A Valuable Resource

Chapter 4 of Conquest, a novel-length fantasy whump story about a timid royal clerk captured by the disgraced prince who needs their help to rule their newly conquered country. This series is best read in order. Masterpost here.

Contains: fantasy setting, nonbinary whumpee, male whumper, fearful whumpee, royal whumper, whumper POV, knife to throat, cultural differences, philosophy of gender

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Kezul

The prisoner was no longer drenched in blood and shit and vomit, but that didn’t make him that much more pleasant to look at. He was built like a sapling, and draped in layers and layers of clothing drenched in dyes so bright it made Kezul’s eyes hurt to look at him. His hair was pulled back in a single long braid. The style didn’t do him any favors—it exposed every soft curve of his weak face in unforgiving detail.

The creature kept his eyes firmly fixed on his own shoes—soft and thin things that wouldn’t have lasted five minutes on a battlefield. Kezul heard his breath catch with every inhale as he quivered like a blade of grass in a thunderstorm.

And here Kezul had thought Gyoras’s fawning had been intolerable.

But at least this one meant it. He wasn’t showing obsequious deference while snickering about Kezul’s soiled reputation behind his hands when Kezul was out of earshot. One glance at the prisoner was enough to tell Kezul that every quiver of fear, every catch of his breath, was born of genuine terror.

It was refreshing. At least one person in this palace had a healthy respect for him.

Kezul hadn’t expected respect to make him feel so disgusted.

But then, the creatures of Danelor were disgusting, all of them. Weak things, soft, like worms after a rain. And his father had sent him here because he thought Kezul belonged with them.

Maybe Gyoras had been right, and this prisoner’s best use was as an outlet for his anger. Staring at him now, he found it hard to believe this creature could be useful for much else, except maybe as a gaudy decoration. “Tell me,” he demanded, “why shouldn’t I kill you now and put you out of your misery?”

The prisoner flinched at the sound of his voice. His eyes—wet and glittering, a clear amber color that reminded Kezul of the steps outside the palace—darted up to meet his. The incongruity of it sent a jolt through Kezul. The prisoner looked too afraid to speak, and yet he could do what Gyoras had found so difficult, and look Kezul in the eyes. No doubt it came down to what he had been taught—the people of Danelor probably didn’t know how to show their rulers proper respect. Still, Kezul couldn’t help but see it as an almost shocking act of boldness.

“You saved me for a reason,” the prisoner said. “I don’t think you would have your warriors go to the trouble of bathing me just so you can kill me personally.”

Kezul wouldn’t have been more astounded if one of the palace rats had scurried up to him, knelt at his feet, and offered to serve.

The prisoner’s accent was atrocious, of course. The words sounded smooth and liquid in his mouth, like his soft lips couldn’t keep hold of the sounds properly. On top of that, half his verb endings belonged to some archaic scholarly dialect Kezul hadn’t seen since the lessons he had slept through as a child. But the fact that he was speaking the language at all stunned Kezul into silence.

“I did not intervene to save your life,” Kezul answered once he had recovered his composure. “Your life is worthless. What I did was preserve a potential resource. If it turns out the information in your head isn’t useful to me, you’ll go right back to my Wolves. Or else I’ll kill you myself.”

The prisoner cringed at the sound of his voice, and didn’t stop cringing until Kezul fell silent. In the name of the exalted Unmaker, how had these creatures ever survived long enough to put up any sort of resistance at all? If they were all like this one, they should have keeled over dead at the first sound of a war horn.

“How do you know my language?” Kezul demanded.

“It was part of my studies,” the prisoner answered in the same atrocious accent. “I can read, write, and speak fifteen different languages. I can understand another five passably well.”

“Hopefully you speak the others better than you speak mine,” Kezul said. “Training for what?” He leaned forward on his throne, fixing his eyes on the quivering prisoner.

“Diplomacy, mostly. As a royal clerk, I sat in on diplomatic meetings, and recorded what was said to the best of my ability. I had to understand foreigners’ speech well enough to avoid any dangerous mistranslations in my notes, and then translate the notes later into the languages of everyone who had attended. I also drafted trade and defense agreements, and the meaning of those—as you can imagine—had to be precisely identical between one translation or the next. No clerk wants to be responsible for starting a war with a careless stroke of a pen.”

He said all this without a trace of arrogance, as if he expected Kezul to take it in stride that a trembling beanstalk of a clerk might have the power to launch an army with the mistranslation of a word. Was this the world his father had meant to thrust him into? A world where the stroke of an overtired clerk’s pen could mean the difference between war and peace, between victory and defeat?

And he had thought the test had seemed impossible before.

Forget getting on his horse and riding as hard as he could out of here. He was half-tempted to set the whole damned country ablaze and be done with it. It would be easy to rule over a sea of charred grass.

He pictured his father’s triumphant grin in his mind. He clenched the throne’s carved wooden armrests until the contours of the smooth wood bit deep enough to bruise.

He would not run. He would not fail.

“You say you drafted these agreements,” he said slowly. “Do you mean someone dictated the words to you, and you determined the proper translations?”

The prisoner shook his head—a small, jerking motion. “We clerks would work out the details ourselves. It’s part of why our training takes so long—we need to understand enough of politics to handle that work on our own. The queen and her advisors have more important things to do than fuss over every word.”

Kezul’s eyebrows hit the ceiling. “Then the royal clerks had the power to set policy.” No wonder Danelor had fallen so quickly, if this one and those like him had been the ones in charge all along.

The prisoner shook his head again. “The queen or one of her advisors would tell us what the document needed to contain—although we would already know that, if we had paid attention in the meetings. Then we would go over it with one of the queen’s advisors once the job was done—or, if it was important enough, with the queen herself. But—if you will forgive me my arrogance—the queen and her advisors couldn’t manage those details as well as a trained clerk could. Knowing the precise tricks of phrasing to make sure the documents say exactly what they’re meant to say is part of what we’re trained for.”

This prisoner had a strange idea of arrogance. Not that Kezul was sure he believed what the prisoner said—surely the difference between one pen stroke and another couldn’t be more powerful than the word of their queen. Either their queen had been exceedingly weak, or Danelor was a land of superstitious fools who believed in the powers of magical incantations—so long as the words were written in a clerk’s hand and sealed with the royal seal.

But the creature in front of him, much as he hated to admit it, didn’t look like a fool. Kezul didn’t know what to make of him, truth be told. Based on Kezul’s first look at him, he hadn’t expected the prisoner to be able to stammer out a single terrified word. And yet he had spouted that lengthy explanation, and in a language not his own, all while quivering like a leaf in a storm. He had even pulled out the most obscure archaic phrases to drop casually into his speech. To the best of my ability? If you will forgive? And the stuffy and old-fashioned word documents, when the shorter and simpler term was used by everyone but the most pompous old academics. Kezul might have thought the creature was trying to show off, if he hadn’t looked so much like he wanted to melt into the floor.

Kezul didn’t know what to think of him. Only a few moments in his presence, and he already seemed to Kezul to be a child’s trick puzzle—a muddle of pieces that would never fit together properly. But if what he said could be believed—and at this point, Kezul had no other option but to believe him—he was an even better find than Kezul had hoped. This prisoner could well be the proverbial jewel plucked from the pigsty—a bit of good fortune dropped into his lap from the heavens themselves.

“Give me your name,” Kezul ordered.

The prisoner answered with a string of slurred syllables that made Kezul feel like he had spun in a circle while shaking his head rapidly back and forth.

“Say that again,” Kezul said irritably. “Slower, this time.”

“Miranelis.” This time, Kezul could make out all the sounds, but he still scowled. He couldn’t imagine saying all that whenever he needed to catch his prisoner’s attention.

“You’ll need to shorten it,” he said. “I’ll call you Mir.”

The prisoner, unexpectedly, flinched at that. “My people don’t shorten our names.”

A child’s trick puzzle, indeed. He had run rather than fought to defend his home and his queen. He was hadn’t offered the Wolves in the courtyard so much as a token fight. But this was the thing he found the courage to object to?

“You do now,” he said. “Your name is too long to use. You don’t want that to be the reason I can’t find a use for you, do you?”

The prisoner still looked unhappy about the situation, but he didn’t offer any more objections.

“And are you a man or a woman?” he asked. He had assumed man at first, but the longer he looked the prisoner over, the less sure of that he was. Mir’s slim build offered no clues, nor did the soft roundness of his face.

“Neither,” Mir answered.

And here Kezul had thought his eyebrows couldn’t go any higher. “You can’t mean to tell me you have nothing between your legs.”

“You didn’t ask me what I had between my legs. You asked if I was—” And here he dropped into his own language for the space of a few liquid words. “Or did I misunderstand?”

“I don’t speak your language,” Kezul snapped. “Say it in mine, or not at all.”

“You asked if I was a man or a woman,” Mir answered. “The mother or father of a child, actual or potential. Is that correct?”

He had dropped into those maddening archaic turns of phrase again. Kezul wished his father had sent along a scholar just to make sense of this creature’s speech. “I don’t see how that changes my point.”

“I renounced the possibility of either when I entered the service of the queen,” said Mir patiently. “I renounced all familial roles—past, present, and future. Son or daughter, brother or sister, aunt or uncle… you get the idea. Everyone sworn to higher service takes the oath—clerks, priests, soldiers, the queen’s personal servants…”

Kezul frowned. “You mean to tell me all the soldiers in Danelor are eunuchs?”

“Eunuchs? Doesn’t that mean you cut…” Mir turned faintly green. “No! It’s about our place in our family and our country, about being recognized as one sworn to service rather than to our blood relatives or the scholarly pursuits. It’s not about… that.” The prisoner looked down at his crotch nervously.

Perhaps this was another thing Kezul would have understood if he’d had the training Szorrol had denied him. He doubted it, though. “Neither, then,” he said, with more than a little irritation. He squinted at Mir and wondered if he could get used to the idea of seeing clerk in place of man or woman.

He cleared his throat and moved on. “How long have you been in your position?”

“Ten years in training,” Mir answered. “Another five in service.”

“They must have started you young, then.” Either that, or Kezul had unwittingly stumbled upon the location of the fabled Caves of Immortality.

“At seven years old,” Mir confirmed.

“And are you good at what you do?”

“Not as good as the one who taught me.”

They flushed a little as they said it. Their lips tightened at the corners in a look of quivering stubbornness. Was this another facet of the creature’s strange humility—that they could admit to having power greater than their own queen, but not to being good at it?

If so, Kezul didn’t have time for their scruples. He leaned forward. “How would you rate your competence at your vocation,” he said, “if your life depended on your answer?” In a quick motion, he grabbed Mir by the back of the neck. With his other hand, he drew his dagger from his chest sheath and rested the blade against the prisoner’s trembling throat.

Mir quivered hard enough that Kezul was afraid they would shake themselves right onto the edge of the blade and slit their own throat. And yet they still didn’t collapse in a mindless puddle of tears on the floor. Ridiculous—they should either embrace their own cowardice, as they so clearly wanted to, or show a little spirit and fight back.

Of course, if they chose this moment to fight back, they would get their throat slit. And then Kezul would be without his only information source.

Kezul was about to repeat his question when Mir swallowed hard and answered. The motion of the throat was enough to vibrate their skin against the freshly sharpened blade. A single drop of blood welled up.

“My teacher said I was the best they had ever trained,” said Mir, as if every word was painful. Or maybe that was just from the blade at their throat.

“Good.” Kezul released them, and was mildly surprised when they kept their footing. He slid his knife back into its sheath. “We’ll see if your teacher’s assessment of you is accurate. You said you were sworn to higher service. You will continue that service. As of now, you serve me.”

Mir blinked at him like a startled cow. “What?”

“I was taught how to conquer,” Kezul said. “I was not taught how to rule. You will show me how.”

Another slow, bewildered blink. “But I don’t… I was only a clerk.”

“And your clerks had more power than your queen, or so you said,” Kezul said impatiently. “Or was that a lie?” His hand drifted closer to his knife. “Do you know what the penalty is for lying to one’s superiors in Kyollen Naskor?”

A full-body quiver ran through Mir. “That’s not what I meant!” They took a breath. Swallowed. “That’s not what I meant,” they said in a slower and more even voice, even though every word was thick with suppressed strain. “We clerks have a very specific area of expertise. That’s all. We know more than the queen does in certain matters, but the queen doesn’t know how to till the fields either, and you would hardly say a farmer has more power than her because of it.”

“Certain matters,” Kezul echoed. “Would it kill you to talk like a living, breathing person instead of some long-forgotten ancient scroll?”

“What?”

“Never mind.” Kezul waved a hand. “Your specific area of expertise happens to be exactly what I need. I need to know this country’s politics. Its trade… situation.” His fingers waggled helplessly in the air. “Its relationships with its neighbors. Its… oh, I don’t know—that’s what I need you to tell me.”

“You want me to tell you how to rule my country,” said Mir.

“At last, you’re getting it. Good—if you didn’t have a brain in your head, this endeavor would be doomed before it started. I’ll have you brought to me every day. You’ll teach me what I need to know about your country, and in return, you will be kept alive and well-fed.” He thought back to what Gyoras had said about the farms, and amended, “You’ll eat as well as the rest of my army, at any rate.”

“You want me to be a part of your army.” A crease appeared between Mir’s eyebrows, quickly smoothed away.

“You know that’s not what I meant. Your command of my language can’t be that bad, if you’re throwing around phrases like if you will forgive. Are you trying to mock me by intentionally misunderstanding my words?”

“You want me to serve you,” said Mir. “That’s what you said, isn’t it? Maybe I won’t be holding a weapon, but it amounts to the same thing. I’ll be helping you win this war.”

“The war is already won. And I wouldn’t need your help for that, anyway. I know how to win a war.”

Mir shook their head. “No,” they whispered, almost too low to hear. Another terrified quiver rolled through them.

“What do you mean, no?”

Mir swallowed again. “You destroyed my country. You killed my queen, and the prince—a child—and everyone else I’ve cared about for the past fifteen years. Havedrial…” Mir let out a shuddering breath. “I won’t help you finish the job.”

It took Kezul a moment to remember how to speak. “You’re refusing me?” This pathetic creature? Gyoras, a trained Wolf, had barely been able to bring himself to stand in Kezul’s presence, and then only because he had been ordered to. And yet this tiny, trembling prisoner was saying no?

“And what if I send you back out to the courtyard with my Wolves?” Kezul asked in a low voice. This time, he almost managed to imitate his father’s rumble.

Mir quivered so hard Kezul thought they would lose their balance. But they kept their feet as they said, in a small but steady voice, “Then send me back.”

Kezul stared into the creature’s wide and glistening eyes, and found he couldn’t look away. This was the strangest breed of coward he had ever encountered. They would have made a fascinating curiosity, if Kezul’s birthright hadn’t been on the line.

Kezul drew his knife again. This time, he brought it forward slowly and deliberately, holding Mir’s gaze the whole time. He kept his spare hand ready to grab hold of Mir��s arm if Mir tried to run. But Mir stayed put. Whether they were making a brave stand, or were simply too panicked to remember how to use their feet, Kezul couldn’t tell.

“And if I slit your throat here and now?” he demanded.

This time, Mir’s voice was even quieter. The words were still surprisingly easy to make out, considering their accent. “Then do it.”

Kezul rested the edge of the knife against Mir’s throat. Mir didn’t fight. They didn’t run. One or the other would have made sense, but neither? What was this creature?

One sharp jerk of the knife, and he wouldn’t need to worry about it anymore. He already suspected this prisoner would be more trouble than they were worth. In the time it would take to persuade them to take back their refusal—or even begin to figure out how to persuade an alien creature such as this—he could find another resource to give him what he needed.

There had to be some other resource.

But if he was wrong, what then?

And besides, if Kezul killed Mir now, the only satisfaction he would get from it would be an end to this headache-inducing conversation and an extra bloodstain on the floor. That wasn’t enough. Kezul had saved them from the fate they deserved, and all they were asking in return was a simple exchange of information. Kezul could have understood that kind of refusal coming from a warrior. But a coward who had hid in a closet rather than die in defense of their queen? The only reason for them to choose death now was pure spite.

Such spite deserved to be returned in kind.

He tucked his knife away. “Then I suppose I’ll be forced to find another use for you. I imagine you won’t find it as pleasant as my first offer. Remember, you had your chance.”

Kezul didn’t know what precisely he was threatening yet, but from the way Mir’s eyes went even wider, he suspected Mir had a few ideas already. Good. Let their imagination to torment them until Kezul came up with something suitable. He was sure he could find something. And after a taste of what it meant to be his prisoner, maybe Mir would change their mind about what their spite was worth.

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Tagged: @suspicious-whumping-egg @halloiambored @whump-in-the-closet @whump-cravings @gala1981 @sunshiline-writes @annablogsposts @whither-wander-whump @seaweed-is-cool

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#whump #whump writing #whump story #whump novel #my writing #my writing: Conquest #fantasy whump #royal whump #nonbinary whumpee

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toointojoelmiller · 9 months

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please don't go: a last of us fic

after David / Silver Lake / post-episode 8

angst, Joel & Ellie bonding, 99% canon compliant

rating: mature - content warnings re: s/a, violence, gore, more

The best found father-daughter duo help each other recover, work through their trauma, stay alive - hopefully a satisfying fill in for things we didn't get to see after winter !

if you're after a long read here's one for you

work in prog! +100k words

ch 1 | ch 2 | ch 3 | ch 4 | ch 5 | ch 6 | ch 7 | ch 8 | ch 9 | ch 10 | ch 11 | ch 12

I'm no longer copying this over to tumblr because it got way too long and it's too much!!!! Read on ao3 for the updated chapters

please don't go: chapter 1

Ellie’s frantic eyes finally seem to focus on him, and he can see her body language shift immediately. The hard adrenaline fuelled tension in her muscles sinks away as her face falls into unsettling blankness – he didn’t think it was possible but she somehow looks even smaller. Her lips start moving but she isn’t saying anything. Only low, halting sounds, whimpers and soft gasps of air that slice into his gut with a hurt nearly as sharp as the sewn up hole in his side.

“It’s me,” he hears himself repeating. Never feeling more useless in his life, except for - it feels wrong to think of Sarah right now, with Ellie so immediately in need in front of him, but the image of her pink t-shirt soaked in blood swims up in his mind anyway, crystal clear even 20 years later, her heaving and jerking belly so small it’s easily covered by the width of his hands until it suddenly stills. He learned a long time ago that he’s helpless to fight it when this moment flashes back to him.

This is what is written in the stars for Joel - his girls, too good and too sweet to know better than to trust him until that mistake catches up and they pay with their blood. It’s what he deserves. But - he’d seen it coming with Ellie - he’d known he wasn’t going to be able to keep her safe - Tommy would have never let - why the fuck does he keep existing when he’s so goddamn weak, worthless, worse than - poison, ruining everyone he -

Ellie moves towards him and presses her face into the crook of his neck with more babbling - a word too this time, “He-” - and the weight of her, the warmth of her cheek against his is the only thing that could possibly bring him back into his body.

He feels his blood pound in his head as he wraps his hand up around the back of her neck – so impossibly small – tangling his fingers through her knotted hair, holds her against him like she’s made of glass. Her whole body is trembling.

“It’s ok, baby girl,” he says in a breath as he shuts his eyes, trying to keep himself upright against a surge of heartache. He hears the words as if someone else has said them, like they didn’t leave his lips – but immediately feels the truth in it. The wall he’s tried to keep up between Ellie and Sarah, the nothing-but-bullshit line he’s drawn to try to somehow separate what they are to him is gone. There’s no more pretending. She’s his to take care of – that’s how she ended up here shaking and bleeding, after all, isn’t it?

His penance for failing Sarah is a life sentence, but Ellie’s still here, in the flesh and breathing (he thanks the god he’s never believed in). She needs him present more than he needs to hate himself. There’s a future full of self-loathing stretching out ahead of him - time for that later. For now he just needs to get her safe.

“We need to leave, baby,” he says, clearing his throat as it strains from the lack of use. He feels the urgency as the words leave his mouth – they don’t stand much of a chance if more men are coming after them, and though he’d die before he let anything (else) happen to her, who would be left to take care of her then? He pulls back from holding her to look at her face again, eyes tracking over the hollow look in her eyes and the fresh blood splattered on her skin. He’s never seen anyone who needs to be taken care of more.

“Are you hurt? Can you walk?” He waits a moment for an answer that he knows isn’t coming. Ellie’s little fingers twist and pinch on the sleeves of his jacket as she holds onto his arms, but she’s still standing. He sees the moment the shakiness that he felt running through her body moves from invisible to visible, and on instinct he quickly slips off his pack, shrugging off his jacket to wrap around her. She’s swimming in it.

“I’ve got you, honey, let’s go,” he says as he shifts to her side, wrapping his arm around her as he begins moving through the snow. Walking again makes the ache in his side throb angrily and he clenches his teeth to keep from groaning out loud.

Ellie starts shuffling along next to him, thank fuck – he’s sure he couldn’t carry her now – but she’s unsteady. After a few steps she falls against his side, leaning her weight against him like she can’t stand on her own. He hates that he’s so weak he feels his body start to do the same. His brain conjures up an image of the skyline as they left the Boston QZ so long ago – two crumbling buildings fallen inward, holding each other in place.

Ellie stumbles and he tightens his arm around her to keep her upright. She makes a noise, half choking and half swallowing, sounding like the air is being pushed out of her lungs.

“It’s ok, I’ve got you,” he keeps saying. It’s all he can offer. “I’m here.” It’s not enough.

---

Going back along the road towards the suburbs seemed like a death sentence – they're moving so slowly, and clearly the area was within the boundaries of where the group they’re running from was willing to go. If anyone was coming after them it would be the first place they’d look. But the longer they push forward with nothing in sight the more he’s convinced he's made a mistake that will kill them.

It's near silent in the aftermath of the snowstorm, and it’s rough going along the edge of the woods with patches of snowdrifts occasionally blown so high they nearly have to climb their way over. They’ve both sunk down half way up their shins more than a few times and their wet jeans are freezing against their skin.

He doesn’t know how they’re still going. They’ve been moving for hours.

The only noise is the occasional whistle of the wind, and it’s not enough to cover up their heavy breathing and slow, shuffling steps crunching through the snow. It makes it obvious when Ellie starts to flag, the cadence of her steps shifting as her feet start to shuffle and drag more than stepping, and he tries to swallow down swelling, suffocating dread as he scans around them for somewhere to rest. Time is running out – the sun, he’s horrified to acknowledge, has started to dip behind the tree line. He’s hurting more intensely the longer they walk, and he’s sure Ellie is too. Her breath is coming in pants and whines – she sounds so young he aches.

When snow starts to fall again around them, softly first and then steadily picking up, he fights back the urge to start screaming.

They’re fucking doomed – their bodies are running on empty. They’ll stumble soon and find they can’t get up, and he won’t be able to do anything at all other than pull Ellie close to him as they wait to freeze to death. No sooner has the thought crossed his mind than Ellie crumples at the knees and his mind goes empty with terror. He tries to squeeze in the arm around her when he realizes she’s sinking but he’s too slow. She thumps down hard onto her knees on the ground and is only spared from ending up face first in the snow by the way her upper body slams sideways into Joel’s legs.

“M’ sorry,” she’s mumbling, he realizes in horror as he drops down with her and grabs her shoulders to stop her from collapsing. His wound is fucking ripping as he kneels. He tries to soothe her as she keeps trying to get words out.

“Sorry, I ca- I –” seems to be all she can manage before she falls back into silence. Her teeth are chattering and she’s weakly grabbing onto his pants as if to pull herself up, even as her lower body remains motionless. She’s too weak, too tired. She’s done.

Joel takes a breath, and then another, and another. His vision is tunnelling as he drowns in the fear. This can’t be it.

“Gotta get up, baby, we can’t stop here, gotta get you somewhere warm,” he’s saying, knowing damn well that no such place is around. Ellie closes her eyes and leans her head into him like she’s falling asleep. An angry sob catches in his throat.

He closes his eyes and leans his face down into the top of her head, breathing her in and out, sliding his numb fingers into her hair to hold her tight against him again, and looks around asking a miracle.

And finds one.

From the slightly lower vantage point, he can see just a few feet further into the trees, below the bottom branches of a cluster of pine trees, and there it is, undeniably - wood. Pressure treated. It looks like the edge of – a porch?

He shifts sideways to see more and really tests the limits of the stitches in his side – fuck, fuck, fuck – and he’s flooded with relief. It’s not a porch – just a couple wooden steps, leading up to what has to be the bottom of a door. A cabin? It can’t be more than 50 feet away.

“Ellie, look,” he croaks out, and she doesn’t move. He points. “Look, there’s a building – we just gotta get there and we can rest, ok?”

For a moment he thinks she’s still not responding, and she doesn’t turn to look where he’s pointing, but he feels a small nod as she moves her head, and she mumbles a quiet “’Kay” into his shirt.

He’s breathless with pride – she’s so goddamn tough, the strongest person he’s ever met – and the fresh surge of adrenaline is enough for him to stand and tug her up on wobbly legs, to tuck her back into his side and move them forward, foot by shaky foot, moving away from their almost-grave in the snow.

-----

working on transferring from ao3 to here but here's the ao3 link if you want more now - updates regularly on ao3 (36 ch so far!)

#last of us fanfic #joel and ellie #tlou fanfiction #ellie and joel #tlou fic #god I love Joel Miller #this whole fic is a love letter to Dad Joel so if you are a fan of that enjoy #joel miller #dad joel #silver lake #Joel angst #ellie angst #protective joel #ellie is a badass #Joel loves Ellie #Ellie loves Joel #please don't go #the last of us

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thebeautyoffanfics · 1 year

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HELLO HELLO!!!

can I have Hanako, Shijima, and Sakura with a s/o who feels like they have no purpose in life?? Let me explain more- s/o was supposed to die when they were young but survived and now they feel like death is going to get them eventually (s/o is a half supernatural so they can already see ghosts) so they almost give up?? Like they don’t do their homework, don’t try in school, doesn’t talk to friends, and will even skip days because they think it will be worthless in the end? (I can explain more if you want me too as well-)

THANK YOU IN ADVANCE<33

hanako x gn!reader , shijima mei x gn!reader , sakura nanamine x gn!reader

a/n : of course !! ahh i’m not sure how to add to this a/n , but !! uhm !! i love you dearly , i hope you’re alright , and i hope you enjoy this !!! i hope i handle the topic appropriately , and if you (anyone reading , or cherry specifically !!) feel like i didn’t handle it properly , please let me know <3 /gen

((also !! uhm !! i haven’t written for shijima or sakura in a loooong while , and haven’t read the chapters w shijima in them in a while , so i apologize if these are OOC ^^;

ALSO i’m sooooo sorry for how long this took ahh ,,, it also may be a bit short , i apologize for that as well <//3)) warnings : uhh ?? read the ask , and decide from there <3 (not meant in a mean way , just unsure how to specify that !!)

word count : 893

Hanako <3

Understands, possibly more than any of the others do. After all, he had been in a similar boat.

Though he didn’t like to admit it, not even to himself, his life had been full of thoughts like those. Willingly letting himself get hurt or bullied, simply because… well, call it “survivor's guilt” in a way.

Tsukasa had never been the same, yet Amane survived as normally as he could… he felt bad. He felt guilty, and he felt like things were pointless.

Seeing that in you made his heart ache in a way he couldn’t quite explain.

He isn’t quite sure how to bring it up, or if he should. He also worries that saying “I understand personally” would feel like he’s making the issue about himself. Therefore, he tries to avoid it, until he feels comfortable admitting it.

When you miss days, he sort of assumes that’s what’s happening. So, he’ll offer you hugs, letting you know that you were missed while you were out. Whether it’s helpful or not, he isn’t sure, and he doesn’t mind feedback.

If you decide to talk more about it, Hanako feels honored. It isn’t easy to open up about topics like that, so he listens with his full attention, and offers any support he can provide.

If he manages to find out that you’re not doing homework, or that your grades are being affected, he offers to help you with it! Doesn’t try and force anything, but lets you know that it doesn’t bother him at all!

(Maybe his help with homework isn’t super effective, but… it’s the thought that counts-)

He also tries to encourage you to… live fully, I suppose? He doesn’t want to seem overbearing, but he also doesn’t want you to let that feeling weigh you down. He knows how much potential you have, and he knows that there’s a beautiful world for you to live in-- even if it doesn’t seem like that all the time.

Shijima Mei <3

Once again, Shijima does understand, all too well.

Maybe not personally, technically? But she saw it in the living Shijima, and has that sort-of connection to that. While the living Shijima never grew hopeless… Number 4 hates to admit that, at times, she felt hopeless for her.

Since she understands how that hopelessness feels, she does her best to dispel it in you. While keeping up her empathy, she tries to encourage you to not give up.

It’s mostly gentle reminders, and occasionally the more “serious” talk (only if you’re up for it, and don’t seem uncomfortable). Things like “You had homework, right? Here, let’s do it together.” Or “Say, have you heard from (Friend’s Name) recently? I think I’d like to know how they are, so maybe you should check up on them.”

Will listen to you as often as you want to talk about it. It’s not uncommon for her to let you lay your head in her lap, as she draws, listening to you express any feelings that you need to get off your chest. During those times she’ll frequently give her input (if you’re willing to have it), and run her hands through your hair.

Unlike Hanako, she’s more open to sharing her personal experiences in relation to that. She isn’t sure if it’s helpful, but she does figure that knowing you aren’t alone can be reassuring.

Sakura Nanamine <3

Sakura struggles with very similar things-- the urge to give up on things, and the pointlessness that you grapple with is something she personally understands.

Out of the three, I’d say Sakura battles with Hanako on the “understanding the most personally” list.

However… unlike Hanako and Shijima, Sakura does struggle a bit to comfort you or show her care. She does it in her own little ways, but there are times where she wonders if it’s enough.

Sakura is always willing to listen to you. While she doesn’t give much input, she often nods, showing that she’s paying you her full attention, and occasionally hums a sincere “mhm.”

If she sees that you’re putting off homework, she’ll try and subtly encourage you to not give up.

“...I heard there was history homework. Shall I make tea, and we can look at it together?”

When she sees the times where you DO finish homework and interact with friends, she’ll offer you a small smile, and often offers you tea and sweets. She tends to struggle with words, but she does try and offer an “I saw you talking with your friends today… I’m proud of you.”

When you’re having more difficult times, Sakura feels a bit bad for her simple actions and struggles with words. Still, she does what she can-- for example, when you’re sitting next to her, she may use her hand to move your head until it’s laying on her shoulder, or play with your hair.

She rarely opens up about the fact that she relates, but it may be somewhat obvious to you. However, Sakura hates pity, and would much rather focus her time and attention on helping you.

(A part of her wonders a bit, if destroying the boundary will benefit you… she almost feels hypocritical, wanting you to live, yet working to destroy said boundary. Still, ultimately, she figures maybe it can’t be helped. She wants you to live fully, up until the day that goal is achieved.)

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hannahssimblr · 5 months

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Lucky Girl - Relationship Analysis

Evie & Dean

Dean first appears in chapter 2.2, and one of the first things we know about him is that Evie hates his guts. For some reason she really has it out for him, hating his clothes, his hair, his art style, his arrogance, the way he holds himself. We don’t get to see Evie’s first weeks of college, so the initial reason for her hatred isn’t ever really established, but we can assume that his critiques of her work during classes has been hurtful to her.

I think this is a moment where Evie becomes a bit of a contradictory character. On one hand, she feels insecure and lacking in confidence about most things in her life, and yet when it comes to her art she’s defensive. Though she may never admit it, Evie is used to being the ‘art girl’. She’s used to being more skilled than others around her, so entering college and being surrounded by people who are equally, if not more skilled than her puts her on the defensive. She’s uncomfortable with criticism.

Dean is an intentionally confusing character for the first half of part two. I really didn’t want anyone to really know what to make of him. Isn’t he just giving normal criticism? Surely there’s no need for Evie to be so rude to him, he’s really only trying to help. Yet there’s something about Dean that’s not quite right. We see through Evie’s eyes here, so we're supposed to be as unsure as she is about him. She can’t see what everyone else already can.

Dean shows some interest in Evie early on, perhaps out of pure curiosity. He claims that he doesn’t understand why she hates him so much, and gives her a talk about accepting feedback, telling her that she’ll never improve as an artist unless she’s willing to take on the opinions of others. He’s not wrong.

We get our first glimpses into Dean’s life in chapter 2.5 when Marnie and Fiona gossip about him in the bathroom. We learn he’s from a working class area. He’s been to college before. He needs to work evenings and nights in a pizza restaurant to afford his college fees. Hearing their sneering of him for these facts puts Evie on the defensive. She’s working class too, and so for the first time she feels camaraderie with Dean, a need to defend him from those who don’t understand his struggles in the same way that she does.

Later that night she encounters Dean on the landing while waiting for Marnie. He’s on drugs, though she’s not sure of it yet. He traces shapes on her palm and she doesn’t stop him, though is dimly aware that she’d be judged by her friends for allowing him to do this. Dean is curious about Evie now, and when his inhibitions are lowered he feels more at ease to touch her. The fact that she doesn’t resist is interesting.

Evie thinks about that encounter the whole way home and eventually opens up about it to Marnie, who immediately assumes that something weird and non-consensual was afoot. Evie tries to explain that it wasn’t, she didn’t feel violated by him. Marnie asks Evie if she fancies Dean, and she says she doesn’t, although she’s no longer sure if that’s true.

The following day, Marnie, in a pissy mood, texts Dean to tell him off about crossing Evie’s supposed boundaries. Dean responds to this by confronting Evie and then blocking her number. She’s incensed, appalled, how could he just block her like that? Doesn’t she mean more than that to him?

The blocking is particularly traumatic for Evie who is still reeling from her rejections by Kelly and Jude in part 1. The Christmas scenes have made her feel even more vulnerable, as Kelly has made a point of making her feel worthless. She cannot cope with the idea that Dean could so easily delete her from his life, so she goes to his workplace on New Year’s Eve and waits for him in the cold so that she can confront him.

This is one of Evie’s bolder moves, but she simply can’t stand for Dean to do this to her without explanation. She needs to know why. This is one of the most crucial moments in their relationship, as it’s a transfer of power. Unbeknownst to Evie she has shown him something very interesting about herself, through this action coupled with her frustration over his feedback in college - she has a need for his approval. Dean wins.

Dean insists on walking Evie home after their confrontation, and even though she says no, he does it anyway. They talk a little about themselves, and as they reach the door Evei has a moment of realisation - she thinks that he’s hot. He clocks this moment too and is curious about it. How can he use this to his advantage? Every moment with Dean feels a little strange to Evie, there’s something about him that’s different to other people, and by the end of part two we know what it is - he’s simply trying to read her, trying to manipulate her for his own gains, and he has been since the very beginning.

The two get closer in the following months, and slowly Evie begins to feel like his ‘favourite’ of the college group. One night in a pub, Dean admits that he’s most attracted to Evie out of all of them, and she’s embarrassed but flattered. He’s noticed that she’s special, and that’s food for her dwindling self-esteem.

Later on he opens up about his family life, which makes Evie realise that they don’t have as much in common as she really thought. She could never relate to the things he’s going through, and in fact, his problems make her feel childish and naive in comparison. He changes the subject to tell her that he thinks she’s hot, and takes total control over the conversation until he can steer it to a point where he’ll be able to kiss her. The kissing doesn’t exactly feel right or natural to Evie, but it’s fine. True love is an illusion anyway, not every kiss is going to feel right and perfect.

Dean is pushy with her when he walks her to her door, asking to come in, but she pushes him away jokingly. She’s uncomfortable but doesn’t want to admit it in case he thinks she’s immature. He doesn’t know she’s still a virgin.

Things go immediately sour at Evie’s birthday party when Dean shows up high after work. He’s a chef, and due to the stresses of his job he’s developed a mean cocaine habit - so has everyone who works in Primo. They weren’t buzzing around like efficient worker bees for no reason. Because Jude is with her, Evie can see clearly for a moment, as view Dean through his eyes. God, he really is a bit embarrassing isn’t he? He tries to sell Jude cocaine in the toilets, but clearly has no idea where he is or which way is up. Jude tells Evie that Dean was trying to do a line off the wall mirror, and later reveals that he turned the baggie inside out and licked the inside clean in a pathetic attempt to get a tiny bit more cocaine into his system. Shane and Claire are disgusted too, and Evie promises herself that she won’t spend anymore time with him. She’s done.

After several reconciliation attempts, Dean realises that he must do something more drastic to get Evie back, because he refuses to lose after putting so much work into her already. He buys her an especially thoughtful birthday gift and shows up on her doorstep to give her a heartfelt apology that he doesn’t really mean, but it works. He says he doesn’t want to be her boyfriend, but that he fancies her, so he’d like if they could just spend some time together. What does Evie have to lose anyway? It’s not like other men are interested in her, and as much as she still loves Jude, she’s convinced that he feels nothing for her anymore. She might as well get some experience.

Here begins the most difficult part of the story, as Evie begins to lie to those closest to her and withdraw from them so that she doesn’t have to admit that she’s dating a person that they all disapprove of. Through her isolation, Evie is more vulnerable to Dean now, who has begun to let the mask drop as his personal family situation has worsened. Evie gets the brunt of his bad moods now.

Dean is frustrated in the library scene in 2.16 because he doesn't have the mental bandwidth to study, nor the education, nor the time. He takes this out on Evie who feels compelled to try and make him feel better through encouragement, which doesn’t work. He gets angry with her for daring to try and give him advice, because he doesn't respect her at all. She’s stupider than he is, stupid enough to date him, therefore her opinions are invalid. He’s also frustrated over Evie’s reluctance to sleep with him. He’s been waiting forever and she won’t let him do anything with her. She still hasn’t told him that she’s a virgin.

He softens for a moment when he believes that she might relent to him in the library, but the moment she puts up a boundary he gets upset and picks a fight with her. They’ve likely had this argument several times now, but Evie is just not ready to have sex yet. He makes her promise to do it with him the following week when her house is free, and she agrees, mainly, as she reveals later, to just make him shut up about it.

Obviously it goes badly - Evie is nervous and Dean is disappointed, but I’ve always felt like he had enough chances to understand that she’s not as ready or experienced as she says she is. As soon as she turns on the TV he really should have figured it out - I mean, he probably did but didn’t care. She won’t even look at him for fear of what might be set into motion, but Dean does his best to make her feel comfortable in the ways that he knows how. Another sign she’s not ready is when she turns off the light in the bedroom, and he has to ask her to turn it back on so that he can see her. Evie is naive, she doesn’t know how it goes, and perhaps is used to sex scenes on TV taking place in the dark. She also is horrified by the idea of being naked in front of him, but she does it anyway. Might as well get it over with.

Of course, she’s not in it, and Dean can tell. He gets frustrated with her and leaves quickly after, giving her an excuse. Evie of course, detects immediately that something is wrong and blames herself for it. She reaches out to Claire for comfort but then quickly remembers that Claire isn’t supposed to know about this. She calls Jude, but doesn’t mention what’s just happened.

2.18 - 2.20 really are Evie’s darkest moments in the whole story. We see things reach a point of despair with Dean, whose thinly veiled respect for her has vanished by this point, as we see in the scene where he horribly berates her in the artist studio. Claire is upset to learn about her lies and leaves her to deal with everything on her own. By the time the summer comes, we know that Evie is drinking to excess, going out to nightclubs as often as possible and sleeping in until noon. The fact that Dean is just using her for the convenience of her apartment and her body is completely clear - and he’s ground her down to a point where she just lets him do whatever he wants to. He doesn’t even have to be nice to her first.

Throughout these fraught moments with Dean, you can see that Evie is still trying to grasp at any semblances of interest he might have in her. She tries to ignore the horrible vibes and joke with him, start conversations, even gauge his interest in her weekend plans by bringing up Jen and Jude, but he doesn’t care.

Readers often found the part in chapter 2.19 where he criticizes her untidy room to be pretty shocking, I think. He says that one day she’ll marry a man who’ll buy her a house, and he’ll think she’s ungrateful if she doesn’t keep it clean. I think this is a particularly horrible thing to say, because it implies he feels sorry for whoever that man is, and that he, Dean, will already have nothing to do with her by that point. She’s just a notch on his belt. He lets her know this fact in many different ways, but Evie doesn't really care anymore - it’s not like anyone else likes her like that.

Of course, chapter 2.19 is also where Evie takes her anger out on Jude, who says he’s just trying to help (I’ll revisit this scene later!). I think that in some ways she blames him for what has happened to her, because if he had just loved her back then she never would have ended up with someone like Dean. She’s upset because Jen laughed at her for dating Dean, as though her life’s decisions are a joke, and when Jude laughs along it’s the final nail in the coffin. She tells him they cannot be friends, and isolates herself from the last people who really care about her.

I revisited this period in Evie’s life a lot later on in 3.25 in that conversation in the cabin with Jude. The purpose of that was to create a sense of uncovering something repressed. Evie wasn’t truly ready to think about the things that were happening to her in part 2, and the only way she could deal with them was to dissociate. Things really were worse than she told herself they were, which is why Jude is so shocked at this moment.

She mentions the constant partying, the drunken sex that she doesn’t remember, the insults thrown at her from Dean all of the time, and the ways that she ultimately came to believe what he was saying to her as he tore her already fragile self-esteem to shreds. I think it makes extra sense why she was so dead inside during the finale of part 2 with this additional context.

The pool party chapter goes as it goes… we see the final stage of all of these toxic relationship dynamics. Evie is thrilled that Dean is being nice to her and kissing her in front of people, even though she knows that it’s only because he’s on MDMA. He blows up when she refuses to have sex with him in the gym and says she’s boring and stupid when she suggests having a conversation for once. He sneers at her and fails to defend her against Marnie’s passive aggression, and then eventually challenges her to do drugs with him, hoping that she won’t and that she’ll walk away feeling pathetic.

But it’s not like she has anything to lose anymore, which is why she does it, or maybe she just has some hopeful idea that he might like her more once she’s tried it. Obviously, the relationship ends the way that it does when Evie learns that he’s been sleeping with her ‘friends’ alongside her, and that they’ve known about it the entire time. He’s also been complaining about her and sharing intimate details with others, including the fact that she was awkward in bed and never gave him head. Innocent, sheltered Evie (thanks Marian) is genuinely shocked. She never knew that people could really act in these ways, that someone could care so little about her that they would betray her like that.

In the end, Dean doesn’t care anyway. He sees nothing wrong with his behavior, and in fact always saw her as fair-game because she was too naive to know any differently. His philosophy is that if a person is going to leave themselves open for manipulation, then they deserve everything that happens to them. He doesn’t see himself as the villain, he sees her as the fool. It’s her fault for developing feelings for him or expecting him to be genuine when he never claimed to be. I think this moment really illustrates the complete destruction of Evie’s worldview and innocence - she’ll never be the same trusting girl she used to be, because he’s ruined her.

I think the worst thing about this moment is that he isn't even bothered enough to match her anger, and is calm for the duration of the conversation, like maybe he’s had it before, he’s done this to other girls. He sneers at her for her emotions and thinks of her as weak. When she asks him why he bothered to do this to her, he shrugs and admits that he likes that she was young. He just wanted to get his hands on her and see what it’d be like. After all of her dreams of finding the perfect man, all of the messages instilled in her in childhood, this is what she got. A guy who was attracted to her youth and inexperience, as it brought him excitement to be the one to ruin her.

I do think they both lose here though, and they were both delusional in their own ways. Evie, for the reasons outlined already, but Dean because of his expectations of what dating Evie would actually be like. He becomes angry and frustrated to learn that she’s shy, awkward and self conscious in bed, and yet the sole reason he chose her is for that innocence. He wanted two opposing things all at once. A young, sexy woman who would allow herself to be guided and ‘taught’ by him, and yet he expected her to somehow know what to do. He’s furious, I guess, because porn doesn’t show this part.

In the end though, it really does hurt her more than it hurts him. Evie will go through the rest of her life with these scars, allowing them to affect her future relationships and her confidence and love for herself, whereas Dean forgets all about it. What’s implied is that he was so frequently on drugs in part two that he really didn’t register a lot of what was happening. We see this is 3.24 when they run into one another for the last time in a bar, and his memories of the time are garbled. Perhaps he’s just pretending not to remember to save face, but I genuinely feel like he forgets. It’s the final slap in the face, because he’s left a permanent mark on her and he doesn’t even remember doing it.

I guess the point is that that’s life, and the bad guys don’t always lose in the end. Evie must accept it and move on, changed forever.

#relationship analysis #this one is rough #also sorry if you haven't read part 2 because spoilers #he's a rat

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bird-inacage · 1 year

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Love in the Air: At the Mercy of Love (Sky x Prapai Confession Scene)

So the confession scene is easily one of the most important and pivotal scenes in Sky x Prapai’s storyline, and I have a lot to say about it. This scene left me quaking because it’s very, very layered. I’ve had to delve deep to truly try to understand the emotional perspectives of both characters in this moment.

From Prapai’s point of view, Sky has just attempted to ruthlessly hurt him, which was incredibly out of character. Prapai knows this isn’t his Sky. Knows Sky wouldn’t say and do things like that, but he doesn’t understand why Sky is saying this. And Sky is a person who comes with a lot of ‘whys’ that Prapai doesn’t yet have all the answers to. He decides not give up, because his love and concern for Sky far outweighs his own pain.

I’ve tried picturing how Prapai felt when he read those words in Sky’s notebook. The first few pages are sweet and endearing, Sky’s notes begin purely as a record of facts. Slowly those become more telling, more revealing in how much Sky values Prapai’s presence, but also how much good he sees in Prapai.

Up until this point, Prapai has been putting his everything into pursuing Sky, in the hopes that Sky may at some point reciprocate even a fraction. Even in the previous episode, when Prapai gets angry, he says, “I might be a psychotic stalker in your eyes, but please understand how worried I am of you”. Despite how assured he comes across, Prapai is actually very insecure about how Sky feels about him. He has no real grasp on Sky’s true feelings. Though he suspects Sky returns them, he doesn’t actually know for sure. Sky’s notes reveal that he’s taken note of every gesture, every act of devotion that Prapai has made thus far. Nothing Prapai has done has gone unnoticed.

Prapai must have felt overwhelmingly validated and touched, that the person he loves has equally treasured every single moment of his presence. All the effort, all the time he has poured into Sky, has been seen, and is absolutely worth it. But Sky wanted to keep all this hidden. He didn’t want Prapai to know. And that fact was likely going round and round in circles in Prapai’s mind, whilst he sat there in the dark - stewing, and getting increasingly angry and hurt by the entire revelation.

Which leads onto the part which devastated me. Sky insecurities, fears and anxieties laid raw and utterly unfiltered in excruciating, heart-breaking detail. Sky’s complete sense of worthlessness couldn’t be any clearer. Prapai knows there’s a shadow chasing Sky but he still doesn’t know what that shadow is. He loves Sky but Sky doesn’t love himself, and you can’t simply re-programme someone’s mindset like a switch. It doesn’t matter how much you love someone, that isn’t enough to convince them to love themselves as much as you do. Sky truly doesn’t feel worthy of Prapai’s affections, and so that entire final passage is Sky pleading, bargaining for Prapai’s attentions to stay with him. It’s the most agonised, distraught, desperate cry for someone to stay and not abandon him.

Sky is so determined to project a strong façade. To have his worst fears being read out to him by the man he loves, the man he thinks no longer wants him anymore - is like hearing the taunting voice of his demons being actualised through Prapai. An echo of what I assume his ex intentionally may have done to mentally torture him. This whole exchange proves to be downright unbearable for Sky, because his attempt to maintain any semblance of control or strength is utterly shattered. The only thing he could withhold from Prapai were his true feelings, in order to protect himself. Now Prapai knows everything. Utterly everything. He’s completely at Prapai’s mercy. And he promised himself he would never let that happen again. Sky, who is overcome by a vision of his worst hell, can only dread what comes next, that Prapai could use his fears as further fuel to hurt him.

Now my interpretation of Prapai’s response is that he is fundamentally still fuelled by anger (again out of concern and heartbreak for Sky). The tone he uses throughout is absolute admonishment, ‘You really thought that you could be the bad guy? You? Who were you trying to fool? Why were you trying to make yourself out to be the worst when I know you’re not? Why would you even try to get me to hate you, resent you, be angry at you?’ The fact that Sky even attempted to turn Prapai against him, to save himself from actually seeing Prapai do it of his own volition, is again a huge sign of self-sabotage.

We’ve seen Sky do this before. He’d rather try to hasten what he considers is the inevitable, taking the choice and control out of the other person’s hands. So yes, understandably Prapai is furious. He’s so helplessly angry because Sky tried to stop him from having any say, to stop him from having any choice in the matter. Sky jumped the gun and cut him off, and to top it off, tried to make Prapai completely hate him for it. To Prapai, what dealt the biggest blow, what was potentially the most hurtful, the one thing he could not accept - is even if Sky truly didn’t want him anymore, he has no right to take away Prapai’s love for him. ‘Don’t you dare try to make me hate you, when you have no idea just how much I love you. You are not allowed to take that away from me. You have no idea how utterly impossible that would be.’

Along with Prapai’s anger, is also fear. The thought that he may have never known, never heard these thoughts and feelings. The thought that he may have never found out, or been willingly told by Sky himself, had he not come across the notebook. Knowing what he could have lost, missed, passed by, had he not decided to persist. That Sky was going to take away his right to know. And the anger, pain and frustration at the thought that Sky would keep that from him. That one thing he values above all right now, which is Sky’s love.

Within Prapai’s tone, there’s also a degree of, ‘Why would you do this to yourself? How could you be so cruel to yourself? Do you even know how you sound? Why?’ Prapai hates the fact that Sky keeps bringing himself down. Sky’s self-esteem is already sitting at rock bottom and for some reason Sky (being his own worst enemy) only continues to reinforce this. I think Prapai reading out every word was a way of hitting it home to Sky, that there’s no way on this earth that he could ever convince Prapai or anyone else that he doesn’t care. Because someone so broken, so insecure, so desperate of love - someone who wrote those words, thought those words, could never.

I also believe Prapai’s hurt here stems from annoyance at himself. Annoyance that he ever, even if for one second entertained any doubt. That he ever thought badly of Sky, because this, THIS, is stone cold proof that Sky could never do anything capable of hurting him. Every word in that notebook is probably like a stab in the heart. And perhaps Prapai reading it out loud was to remind himself that he shoulders the blame. For not being able to get through to Sky, for not being able to be everything Sky needs.

Now, I think the almost interrogative way that Prapai reads the notebook whilst Sky breaks down is an attempt to tear down every wall and façade that Sky has remaining. We could see this as an act of ‘tough love’. Prapai has tried coaxing, and soothing, and being soft and gentle with Sky. But maybe the anger in this particular moment led him to try being blunt for once. Prapai so desperately wants Sky to be completely unshackled, unburdened, stripped down to his most basic fundamental. The Sky he was before all the pain was inflicted on him. The Sky underneath it all who wants him and loves him. The instant Sky confesses, Prapai’s face immediately smooths over like he’s finally gotten through. There’s an instant register of relief like ‘there it is, there you are.’

I feel like the purpose of this scene was to be a moment of catharsis for both characters. As much as I do feel Prapai went in pretty hard, I also recognise that he’s been dealing with a lot of pent up frustration, fear and worry, that he hasn’t been able to direct anywhere. And to the man’s credit, he has been incredibly patient and understanding with Sky thus far. He refuses to let any of it out on Sky, so all of that worry has been kept largely to himself. The revelation of Sky’s true feelings just unleashed all that coiled up tension. For both of them actually.

To date a person who is dealing with severe trauma is not for the faint-hearted. I’m really glad this was addressed, because trauma may manifest as instances of misunderstanding or miscommunication, that will inevitably cause issues, disagreements, and possibly fall outs in the relationship. Sky will always be prone to think and assume the worst. All those fears don’t just go away as soon as you’re in love. Their relationship is going to be a real challenge, there’s no skirting around that. I do think this was a great dose of reality for Prapai, because this was the first real instance where Sky’s demons have manifested into an actual obstacle. Before that, Prapai has always been pretty steadfast and unfaltering. This completely hit him out of left field, and he realised that yes, he can be shaken too. He’s not invincible. He can also be subject to doubt, hurt, and anger.

What I am really appreciative of is that this scene acted almost like a reset. It allowed them to be completely honest and laid bare. Now there’s no question to be had how they feel about one another. And that’s a good place to move forward from.

#LITA #love in the air #love in the air series #love in the air episode 12 #LITA meta #LITA analysis #prapaisky #paisky #prapai x sky #sky x prapai #this scene was delivering the feels HARD #such a different way of approaching a confession scene

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somekndofnature · 4 months

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Summary:

Inuyasha reveals something important to Sango and Miroku that shocks both. Kagome and Sango get some things off their chest.

Notes:

Hello all! Time for another couple of chapters. These next two sort of go together so I wanted to release them together. This is where the story starts getting thicc. So, I hope you enjoy.

For this chapter, there were a few songs that really inspired this chapter. First, is 'Walls (You Changed)' by Sick Puppies. I feel like this song is really important from Sango and Kagome's perspective, towards Inuyasha. And for those who were wondering about the music Inu is working on, this is one of the songs he ends up 'writing' in the story as he grows a little more. Second is 'Goodbye Apathy' by One Republic which is obviously chosen for Inuyasha in this moment. And the last is 'Torn' by Natalie Imbrugila which is also probably obviously chosen for Kagome.

Anyway... that's my music rant for now. Let me know if you like it.

AO3

Chapter 4: That Left Me On the Floor

Inuyasha was stunned into silence and could only watch Kagome’s shoulders tremble as she retreated towards the restroom, wheezing from the hole she’d punched straight through his chest. Each tear that had fallen onto her cheeks lashed his heart like a whip, drawing an answering warmth from his eyes. He had struggled to stay in place, compelled to drop to his knees and grovel on all fours, begging forgiveness. He knew that he had hurt her but…

You broke me.

Inuyasha bit back the whine that crawled its way up his throat and let his head fall into his hand, rubbing the gathered moisture from his eyes. Fuck , he hated seeing her cry. That was why he had always walked away; he’d never been able to take the shame that could—rightly—be placed at his feet for hurting her.

“Smooth,” Sango said from beside him.

Inuyasha scowled in her direction but didn’t respond; he had nothing to say in his defense.

Miroku sighed and pushed a hand through his dark hair. “Well, I guess that’s out of the question. It sucks, but I think we’ll have to find someone else.”

“No!” he growled, making their eyes widen. “It has to be her, no one else.”

Sango shook her head. “Inuyasha, I know you feel guilty for everything that happened but—”

“This isn’t about that!”

She raised a dubious brow.

He winced. “It isn’t just about that. It’s—fuck, you wouldn’t understand.”

“Try me,” she insisted.

Inuyasha shook his head.

“If you want any more of my help with Kagome, you’ll have to tell me why this is so important. Why does it have to be her? Why are you suddenly so eager to have her in your life?”

His ears lowered against his head; he couldn’t tell them. When Sango and Miroku understood what Kagome meant to him, the resulting guilt might bury him alive.

“Inuyasha?” Sango prompted again.

He hung his head, allowing a curtain of silver hair to hide his face as he whispered, “She’s my mate.”

He heard them suck in a sharp breath. Both had no doubt heard the same stories in school growing up. Great demons searching for their fated mate, the first glimpse of romance that their little minds were afforded. Inuyasha had been bored out of his skull just listening to them.

In the past, when the world was smaller, there was a reasonable assumption that this goal was attainable, that this mysterious person who made up your other half could be found, but on a planet of over seven billion beings, those odds slimmed considerably. A mate was someone to be treasured, and he had treated Kagome like she was… worthless .

Argh! The sound of that word gasping from between her trembling lips wouldn’t leave his ears. It twisted his heart, pumping an icy poison of regret through his veins.

“Wh-what? When?” Sango went silent for several seconds before gritting out through her teeth, “How long have you known?”

“From the beginning,” he replied, voice low. “From the first day I met her.”

“I knew it. I knew you were hiding something from me.” He heard Sango move but didn’t even brace as her fist connected with his cheek. “You ass!”

Inuyasha’s head whipped to the side, and he embraced the sting. He deserved her wrath on behalf of their friend, on behalf of fate, on behalf of everything he had scoffed in the face of, like a complete idiot. If it made him worthy of Kagome, he’d let Sango beat the hell out of him with a godsdamn smile.

“Nine years?!” Sango screeched. “Nine years and you… you were fuckin around, stickin your dick in anything that moved—”

“I didn’t actually do that.”

“What?!”

He shrugged. “I know it looked like I was always with a woman, but I just wanted it to seem that way. I didn’t actually sleep with any of them; I couldn’t. After being with Kagome, touching another woman felt,” he shuddered in disgust, “wrong.”

“Why?” Miroku asked. “Inuyasha that just sounds—”

“Cruel,” Sango interjected. “Why the hell would you do that to her?”

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “I was trying to push her away, to make her hate me.”

“Well, congratulations,” Miroku said with a hint of reproach in his tone. “I think you succeeded.”

Inuyasha’s head fell back, rubbing his hands between his spread legs while they jittered with tension. He was getting judgment from the pervert now?

“No doubt,” Sango agreed with a derisive snort. “You only made it worse by constantly falling into her bed, too.”

“I couldn’t help it!” He pushed a hand through his silver hair, scraping his claws against his scalp.

Her lip curled with disgust. “That’s pathetic.”

“You got me, Sango,” he snapped. “I’m a completely pathetic, sad sack, piece of shit. Happy now?”

“Don’t say any of that like it’s going to save you,” she said, placing an indignant hand on her hip. “You think just because you finally pulled your head out of your ass means you deserve a second chance?”

His shoulders slumped. “No.”

“You’re damn right! What you deserve is to watch her move on with her life…”

Inuyasha squeezed his eyes shut as a hopeless anguish ripped through him, but Sango continued without mercy.

“You deserve to watch her find a man who treats her with compassion and devotion, like she’s precious.”

Mine! His demon howled from the back of his mind until his temples throbbed.

Still, she didn’t relent. “You deserve to watch her build a happy life and at its end to be surrounded by a family who loves and treasures her.”

Inuyasha folded in on himself, a keening whine breaking past his lips when he could no longer contain his misery. Did he deserve to watch Kagome leave him behind forever? Probably… Was it something he feared with every fiber of his being? Absolutely…

Miroku cleared his throat, saving him from any further torment. “Sango, sweetheart.”

“What?” she snapped.

“I’m not entirely sure if this shame-fest is having the desired effect.”

She went quiet for a long moment, but Inuyasha didn’t raise his gaze from the floor, which he was hoping would open and swallow him whole. “What was the point of doing all that?”

“I told you,” he said again. “To push her away.”

“Yes,” she hissed. “But why the hell would you want to do that? Any other demon in your position would be over the moon and that should go double for half-demons. Most people don’t even think you have mates. So, why?”

Inuyasha took a deep breath before answering. Eventually he’d have to face the same question from Kagome, he better get damn good at answering it now. “I was a dumbass! I was young and stupid and arrogant and…scared,” he admitted.

“Scared? Of what?” Miroku asked.

“I wasn’t ready for something like that,” he said, looking down at his clasped hands. “I’m not good with women in general. How was I supposed to win this person who was meant to be it for me? And let’s be honest, she’s way outta my league; it didn’t seem like we would ever actually fit together. It felt like I was being set up for failure.” He scratched at the back of his head. “I resented it, being forced into this relationship that I didn’t even want or think myself capable of growing. It wasn’t supposed to be like that, anyway. We were just starting out; it was supposed to be all parties and music and groupies.”

“Sex, drugs and rock-n-roll,” Miroku said in a wistful tone.

Inuyasha lifted his hand, gesturing at him over the table. “Exactly!”

“Don’t lump me in with you,” he grumbled. “You took that entire thing to an extreme.”

“Exactly!” Sango mocked with a similar wave of her hand.

Inuyasha scowled. “You don’t get it. These instincts are overwhelming. It felt like I wasn’t in control of myself.”

“And copious amounts of alcohol and amphetamines made that better?” Sango asked in a disbelieving tone.

“Not exactly,” he replied, rubbing at the back of his neck. “When I was around her, it made it damn near impossible to control my impulses, but away from her… I was able to forget about it, I didn’t feel this constant need gnawing at me.”

“Yeah, but that wasn’t just your instincts or fate,” she explained. “It was you being infatuated. The mating bond doesn’t force you to want someone, it reveals who you’re most likely to be compatible with.”

“I get that now,” Inuyasha replied, his mounting frustration clear in his tone. “But back then it was just easier to blame it all on my demon side and push it away.”

She clicked her tongue. “You almost died, Inu. Was it really worth it?”

“How many times you want me to admit that I’m a dumbass?”

His ears twitched as Sango cursed. “You’ve made such a mess of this.”

“I know.”

“No, you don’t,” she replied. “Humans feel it too, you know? That connection, those bonds of fate. We may not be able to name it and maybe we don’t feel it with the same intensity, but it’s there. Imagine the pain, the betrayal she felt.”

“Please … stop,” he whispered, hiding his face in his hands. “I just want to fix it.”

“Sango,” Miroku interjected again.

She sighed. “Inuyasha, I don’t know if you can fix this. You threw a gift back in fate’s face; you’ll need a miracle.”

He finally worked up the courage to meet her eyes. “Then help me… please ,” he begged through clenched teeth. “I can’t do this by myself.”

She pursed her lips. “Fine, I’ll go talk to her, but you have to promise me that if I get her to come back out here, you’ll be on your best behavior.”

He nodded.

“And you swear that you’re taking this seriously?” she asked. “No more waffling back and forth, no more jumping into bed with her only to push her away?”

“Fuck no!” he snapped before deflating. “Look, I know what life is like without her and I don’t want to do it anymore. If Kagome’s really done with me, then I’ll accept that,” he admitted, “but if there’s even the smallest chance that I can win her back… I gotta take it, Sango.”

She took a deep breath and exhaled, her face softening just a fraction. “Fine, I’ll go talk to her, but I don’t think she’s any happier with me than she is with you.”

Miroku chose this moment to pipe up, “I could go if—”

“No,” Inuyasha and Sango cut him off at the same time.

“The last thing we need is your brand of charm,” she added before walking away, following Kagome’s path to the restrooms.

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

Kagome avoided the curious gaze of the woman standing at the mirror as she stormed into the bathroom, feeling the warm burn of tears in her eyes. She slammed open the door of the nearest cubicle and immediately rested her back against it, sucking in a shuddering breath. What the hell?

It was difficult to even parse out how she was feeling. All of her emotions clambered on top of each other, fighting for dominance: betrayal, rejection, grief, compassion, and even still longing.

This was supposed to be a no pressure reconnection with a good friend. She had been excited to see Sango again, to heal her relationship with a woman who was once her sister in many ways. She had been prepared for it to be a little awkward and uncomfortable, but this had felt like an attack.

She had tried not to resent Sango when her partnership with The Strays had fallen out and her friend had gone silent for almost a year. Inuyasha was Sango’s oldest and best friend, they were more like family. It made sense that she stayed to help him recover, to help him find his way back to reality. It still felt like she was choosing Inuyasha over her, though. While Kagome logically understood, it didn’t negate the disappointment at being so easily forgotten.

When Sango had finally reached out, she had started by apologizing over and over again. It had been difficult to deny her. They had stayed in touch during the next five years by text and the frequent phone call, but this was the first time since severing her ties with the band that she was supposed to see Sango face to face. Just a quick little stop over on her way home from vacation.

Kagome had been eager; it had been ages since she had seen Sango’s smile and laugh or felt the strong reassurance of her embrace. She had missed it and, on her way here, she had allowed herself to feel the deep loss, that hole in her life that the absence of her friend had left. And yet, she couldn’t help but feel grateful that Inuyasha had her support during such a difficult time, even if Kagome felt guilty that she couldn’t provide it. He looked… good, and, if not content, more himself.

Seeing him after all this time was such a shock. Inuyasha had filled out, his tanned skin was packed with more muscle than she had seen in a while, still tall and lean but healthy. He was magnetic; she hadn’t been prepared to steel herself against his appeal. He had the same irreverent, bad-boy look that had drawn her in the beginning, with the piercings, tattoos, and black jeans that barely clung to his slim hips, torn by his fidgeting claws rather than designer labels.

It had been Inuyasha’s golden eyes that tugged at her heartstrings, though. They had been full of the same pain and remorse that was reflected at her each morning in the mirror, as if he had suffered every day of their separation with her. Those invisible ties that had grown slack between them had bound her once more and with it came that same fierce desire to hold him, soothe him, and to allow him to comfort her in turn, a yearning that she didn’t truly understand.

She heard the doorway to the bathroom swing open and closed. “Kagome?”

Sango’s voice made her flinch, and she bit her lip as another frustrated tear fell down her cheek.

“Kagome, I know you’re in here,” she said in a patient tone.

She grit her teeth and flicked the lock, flinging the door wide open. “Of course, I’m in here,” she hissed. “I have nowhere else to escape. You made sure of that, didn’t you?”

Sango rolled her dark brown eyes. “That’s a little dramatic, isn’t it? You can leave at any time.”

“Not without making a scene,” Kagome grumbled as she stomped towards the sinks and grabbed a paper towel from the dispenser. “I’ve already made a hysterical fool of myself once today,” she said while leaning forward to dab at her smeared mascara. “Not exactly eager for a repeat.”

Sango sighed and took a step towards her. “Look, I know it was a shock to see Inuyasha—”

“Don’t.” Kagome whipped around to glare at her. “Don’t you dare come in here and argue on his behalf.”

“I’m not,” her friend replied in a shaky voice. “I’m arguing on mine.”

Kagome swallowed hard as Sango took another step closer.

“I know that I’ve said this before,” she began while staring at her hands. “But I’m sorry, that I abandoned you.”

“Sango, we’ve talked about this,” she said in a dismissive tone. “What you should be apologizing for is bringing him here with no warning.”

“I know but this is the first time I’ve seen you in person since Inuyasha…” She hesitated. “overdosed.”

Kagome pursed her lips as another tear fell from her eye.

“I didn’t want to choose sides,” Sango continued. “But then you left, and I-I couldn’t leave.”

“And I couldn’t stay,” she whispered around the lump caught in her throat. “You weren’t there. You didn’t see him or have to use your hands to keep his heart pumping. For a moment, the whole world became gray and dull, like life itself wasn’t even worth living. I never want to feel like that again, especially for someone who doesn’t love me.”

Sango stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Kagome’s trembling shoulders. “I don’t blame you for leaving.”

“I don’t blame you for staying,” she replied through sniffles. “I’m glad Inuyasha had you around.”

“He’s doing a lot better, if you’re wondering.”

Kagome pulled back with a watery chuckle. “I thought you weren’t here to argue for him.”

“I’m not,” Sango replied with a shrug. “It’s just that, even though I’ve watched his health improve, he’s become quieter, more withdrawn than I’ve ever seen him. I just thought this would give him something to live for again. And I know if anyone can make it happen, you can.”

“I don’t know, Sango.”

“Just give him a shot,” she replied. “You don’t need to commit to anything now.”

“So what?” Kagome said with a sly grin. “Just take the music and run?”

“Why not? We already had plans today, didn’t we?”

“You don’t think that’s a little rude?”

“Serves him right for how he treated you.” Sango ducked around her and took a quick glance in the mirror, dabbing at the skin under her eyes.

Kagome did the same before she felt a nudge against her shoulder. She met Sango’s reflected gaze.

“Remember that time in New York when we stole Inuyasha’s wallet and went to have brunch at the Ritz?”

She giggled. “How could I forget? Inuyasha was so mad, he made us pay for his meals for the rest of the trip.”

Sango rolled her eyes. “Sometimes, I wonder if he isn’t half-cat instead of dog. That asshole can sure hold onto a grudge.”

“Don’t ever let him hear you say that,” Kagome replied.

They shared a dubious look and melted into a fit of giggles until Sango’s gaze grew tender. She swiped a few strands of hair behind Kagome’s ear.

“See? There were some good times, too.”

“I know. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss it.”

Sango smiled and pulled her into another hug. “I’m really glad you came.

“Me too, the ambush notwithstanding.” Kagome paused and pulled back, loosely gripping her friends’ elbows. “Why didn’t you tell me he was coming?”

“I wanted to see you and I didn’t want you to cancel just because of him.”

She shook her head. “I wouldn’t have canceled. To be honest, I’ve been wanting to see all of you. I just didn’t expect him to be so—”

“Dickish?”

Kagome laughed. “No, it’s just… the way he was looking at me.”

“Like he’s head over heels?”

“Don’t say that,” she scoffed. “It’s not true.”

Sango’s gaze grew serious. “You have to know that he cares about you.”

“Not really, he never made a point of showing it,” she replied.

Her friend grabbed her by the shoulders. “I know he’s screwed up in the past, but Inuyasha’s changed, Kagome. More like the guy you fell in love with and less like the playboy rockstar.”

She looked down to study her nails and remained quiet.

“You do still love him, don’t you?” Sango asked.

Kagome hesitated to answer. She should hate him, everything she knew about being a strong independent woman told her so. Inuyasha had toyed with her affections, pulling her close only to push her away. He had used her, satisfied his lust within her body only to treat her with disdain. It was hurtful, but Sango wasn’t wrong. There were good times.

The moments when they were intimate seemed to exist in a universe of their own, outside of the way he treated her in the real world. Lost in each other, Inuyasha showed a new side of himself. He was attentive, generous, and focused solely on her pleasure before his. In those sweet hours, she had felt like all that mattered. It was only afterwards that he made her feel like a mistake and that contradiction had slowly chipped away at her self-esteem.

Things were different now, though. She wasn’t the same immature girl anymore. She owned her own business, managing several different well-known clients. She owned her own home, and had just paid off her modest sedan. She had even adopted a cat. By most people’s standards she was successful, but the wounds that she had incurred back then had left lasting scars.

Kagome didn’t open herself up to people anymore. She was friendly and polite, with many close acquaintances, but none that she considered actual friends other than Rin. She wasn’t sure she could count that one since technically she was family. Her love life was non-existent; she’d practically become a nun. No one had touched her intimately since… him .

Not that she hadn’t tried, but being in romantic situations with other men made her stomach turn. No one had touched her, held her, set her blood on fire the way that he did. It had been years since the first time they had connected in such a way, but she could still remember every detail. It was a well-trodden and comforting memory. From the first moment she was hooked; he became her drug, one that she had been in withdrawal from for the last six years.

#inuyashaxkagome #inukag #inuyasha fanfiction #inukag fic #modern au #rockband au #here with you #chapter 4

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blissfullyapillow · 1 year

Text

It's okay to make mistakes

It’s okay to make mistakes

Genshin Impact

Alhaitham x gn reader

wc: 1,309

Notes: Self indulgent hurt/comfort, fluff, a personal favorite (*´ω｀*)

Back to Masterlist A

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ♡　*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“If you have time to cry you have time to write.” Alhaitham’s words strike a chord in me, and I can’t help but wince as I quickly subdue my sniffles.

“..Sorry.” Is all I manage to murmur without my voice breaking.

I resume writing the hopefully eloquent academic essay I want him to critique. Although I asked Alhaitham to critique my paper, I’ve already heard others’ opinions on my work. The responses were… not what I was hoping for. I’m only getting started and I have minimal experience, but from the feedback I’ve received it feels like my actions are often misunderstood and my best efforts are in vain.

As I recall an encounter I had with a scholar earlier, I wince and internally scold myself for my foolish behavior.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ♡　*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“Why are you laughing?” The scholar asks me. “S..Sorry! I was laughing at myself for making such a silly mistake and-“ “I don’t care. Pay attention and don’t laugh in a situation like this. Laughing can be taken the wrong way.” I sheepishly nod knowing the scholar isn’t wrong, so I quickly quieted down and finished the task.

It irks me that the scholar is scolding me for laughing when I originally overheard the scholar laughing at me when I made a foolish mistake. Realizing what I did wrong, I joined in on the laughter and laughed at myself. So suddenly my behavior is wrong when you were the one originally laughing at me? I make sure to mask my frustration and continue listening to the other critiques the scholar has about my work. Figures, most of it seems to be due to something I lack.

I try not to get too down and finish hearing out the scholar before I’m excused. Although the critiques weren’t incorrect in any way and I’m only a beginner in my field of expertise, it still stings to know I missed so many things. I shake it off and take my leave. Hopefully Alhaitham can help me improve my work.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ♡　*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Just remembering the scene makes me cringe at my own misgivings. Even so, it’s a learning process and it’s okay for me to make mistakes. I just wish my mistakes didn’t make me feel worthless and unworthy of anyone’s time.

To make matters worse, it’s hard to tell which criticism I receive is constructive or not. It’s hard to tell due to the tone the Scholar used when they gave me information on areas I can improve in. I’m grateful for the critiques the scholar offered; of course I need to make sure I’m open to criticism in order to improve, but everything’s just… hard.

Despite the hours I’ve dedicated to my studies and learning, my lack of experience continues to remind me that I have a long way to go. It’s not as if I’m not improving, but it’s a slow improvement.

It's frustrating.

It’s like I’m stagnating while the grass continues to grow greener in other’s meadows.

I know I shouldn’t feel this way; I’m doing just fine for where I am now, and slow improvement is better than no improvement at all. Still, I can’t help but beat myself up and feel discouraged over the little errors I’ve made. Am I even making a contribution? Do my words matter? Is this the right career field for me? Maybe I should quit while I’m ahead and-

“Ow!” I rub the back of my head and turn around to glare at the offending rolled up stack of papers in Alhaitham’s hand. “I told you to stay focused. What’s with the dazed out look? It’s irritating me.” Alhaitham scoffs as he leans over me, his chest hovering over my back.

“This is all you’ve written in the past five minutes?” Alhaitham chastises me. As much as I appreciate Alhaitham’s straightforward attitude, I can’t handle it at the moment. “My apologies. I just need a moment.” I quickly splutter out a reason to leave.

I abruptly stand up, my chair scraping against the floor. The scribe of the Akademiya says nothing as I leave the room. As soon as the door shuts I look around to confirm I’m alone.

Of course I am. I was in Alhaithams’ private study.

I let myself slide down to the floor and curl in on myself.

I will not cry. I will not cry.

Thankfully I don’t full on bawl, but all it takes is a measly tear to escape my eye before I’m silently crying.

Okay, great. Yay me, crying! Right outside Alhaitham’s private study no less! Woohoo!

I release a frustrated sigh and allow a few more tears to escape before I viscously rub my cheeks and puffy eyes. I stand up and take a deep, albeit shaky, breath and re-enter Alhaitham’s study.

Alhaitham keeps his eyes trained on me as I walk back over to him. When I move to sit down however, he quickly pulls me back by my arm. I open my mouth to ask him what’s wrong, but he lifts my chin and looks into my eyes before I can say anything.

Dammit. He’ll know that I was crying, it’s obvious when I do. My eyes get a little red if you pay attention, and I’m sure my cheeks are still wet with my previous salty tears.

“I-It’s not what you think I I really just needed a break and…” I trail off when Alhaitham pulls me against his chest. His hand smooths my hair back as he gently scolds me. “I told you not to push yourself. You can’t improve if you hold yourself back. We all make mistakes, but it’s important that we reflect on them and learn. It may not make it easier to accept and acknowledge that you made the mistake, but it becomes easier with time. It’s okay, we’re not perfect. And we don’t have to be.” His tender words carry my sorrow with them.

I’m embarrassed by the choked out sob I let out before I’m weeping against his chest, but Alhaitham remains silent as he lets me cry against him.

I hate showing my emotions like this and being vulnerable, especially in front of a man like Alhaitham, but…

For once I don’t feel ashamed.

In the embrace of Alhaitham’s strong arms I feel loved and cherished for who I am, with all of my faults and all of my strengths.

Once I regain my composure and no longer feel the need to cry I quietly thank Alhaitham for being there for me. “Of course, it’s not only my duty as your boyfriend to be there for you but.. I also want to be someone you can come to and confide in. I know I’m not the best at this stuff but.. you can rely on me. Now, tell me who made you cry so I can kick their ass.” I guffaw at his sudden change in demeanor and his bold tone, and I burst into laughter when I catch the murderous glare in his stern eyes.

It’s this freeing kind of laughter that you only feel after you’ve cried your eyes out until you’re satisfied. No, nothing has changed after I’ve cried, but it will. With time. I will continue to work hard, and through my hard work and efforts I will see gradual self improvement and growth though the marching of time.

“Oh, Alhaitham. I love you.” I giggle as I wipe a tear from my eye, but this time the tear isn’t full of self doubt and worry. “Of course you do. I love me too… and I love you, I guess.” He complains when I smack his chest at his sassy remark, but I don’t miss the looks of relief in his eyes and the small smile on his lips.

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