#the hurt the pain the confusion the bitter angry feeling I'm trying not to let take me over

[poisonlove]

Lust +18 | Jenna Ortega

Martina Smith, a university student passionate about soccer and casual encounters, follows an inflexible rule: no emotional commitments. Meanwhile, Jenna Ortega, a writer married to a successful but distant entrepreneur, seeks to revive her creativity by accepting a job as an English literature teacher.

In an intertwining of worlds, both women face the challenge of staying true to their principles, exploring the trials of life, love, and authenticity. On this journey, forbidden feelings might challenge their self-imposed rules, leading them to question the barriers they've set in their hearts.

This is a fanfiction and will have many parts.

"Alright… when do we make things official?"

I look at Jessica with a raised eyebrow, tired of her constant requests. I sigh and light a cigarette, closing my eyes to savor each puff.

"What are you talking about?" I mutter distractedly, letting the smoke slowly escape through my nostrils.

Jessica smiles with a touch of challenge, placing her hand on my abdomen and tracing her finger along my skin to my jaw. Her blue eyes meet mine, and her delicate gestures elicit sighs of pleasure.

"You know…" she whispers, leaning towards me to gently kiss my neck, "we've been seeing each other for a while."

"Jess…" I start with irritation.

Jessica is trying to elevate our casual encounters to a more official level. I don't want to hurt her, but my heart doesn't flutter when I see her, and I don't feel the classic butterflies in my stomach. Jessica only offers me shivers of excitement for her beauty and the extraordinary sex we share.

I extinguish the cigarette on the ashtray on the nightstand.

"Come on, Marty… the sex is fantastic." Jessica interrupts, smiling broadly. The head cheerleader of our school in Miami frees herself from the sheets to straddle my legs.

My eyes burn as I watch her slender figure, biting my lower lip at the perfection of her breasts. Jessica's touch on the rose tattoo on my right arm distracts my attention from her body.

"You said it right…" I begin, smiling slightly. "Sex is fantastic, why ruin it with a relationship?" I ask curiously, biting my lower lip with mischief.

"Because you know I want to be with you…" Jessica looks at me through her long lashes. "Be your girlfriend," she concludes, emphasizing the last word.

I scoff and lean my head against the pillow.

"I love you, okay?" She confesses, and my body tenses hearing these words. Instinctively, I make Jessica slide off my body, her eyes showing a mix of pain and confusion.

I grab my jeans from the floor and put them on quickly, buttoning them before pulling up the zipper. "Jessica, we need to be clear. I don't want anything serious."

"But… I thought there was something more between us." Jessica looked at me with teary eyes. The sheets wrap around her body as she gets off the bed.

"You misunderstood everything. Sex is what I'm looking for, nothing else." I say seriously, putting on the jacket around my shoulders.

"You can't treat people like this, Martina." Jessica looks at me with glassy eyes and trembling lips, her voice broken by my words.

"Sorry if I can't fulfill your romantic dream." I reply with a bitter smile.

Jessica, visibly angry, walks towards me. "Don't talk like that! I love you, and you're just a… a selfish jerk!" My eyes curiously observe her face, and then my face turns to the other side due to the slap I received.

"Screw you," she adds with a broken tone, and I just stay still, sighing loudly for her psychotic crisis.

"Enough," I take her hands and move them away from my body. "My idea won't change," I mutter distractedly.

Jessica lifts her face and looks at me with confusion, blue eyes reddened from crying. My hands rest on the sides of her cheeks, my thumb playing with the entrance of her mouth.

I lean slowly, and my lips brush against her ear, a moan unconsciously escaping from the depth of her throat. "If you can't continue fucking without seeing me as a girlfriend… maybe it's better if you find someone else," I smile against her skin and move away from her body.

Jessica looks at me with fury.

I quickly bend down, seeing a brush flying towards me. "GET OUT," Jessica breathes loudly through her nose, flushed with anger. "Damn daughter of…AHHH" the girl takes a notebook from the desk and throws it at me, but fortunately, it hits the wall.

I pick up the backpack from the floor and open the door.

"So… see you tomorrow?" I say playfully. Jessica opens her mouth in disbelief and grabs the lamp from the desk.

"I think that's a no," I quickly say, closing the door behind me, later hearing the sound of the lamp shattering against it.

"She's crazy," I say, smiling in disbelief. "But she'll change her mind," I say smiling maliciously, walking down the stairs.

I take out my phone and call Jackson, my best friend.

"Hey, sweetheart! How did it go?" Jackson's voice sounds excited, and I smile pleased. "Actually, I got slapped… but it was worth it," I say tilting to the side to let an elderly woman with groceries pass and walk out of the building.

"I called you…" I start hesitantly, "to ask for a ride, I know," Jackson concludes, laughing.

My eyes look at the surrounding environment, the cars passing peacefully on the streets, and the sounds of passersby exploring the city, increasing the lively atmosphere. A smile paints on my lips seeing a child walking hand in hand with his mom.

"Exactly…" I clear my throat and close my eyes, trying to push away the thoughts that were going through my head. "Did you also take the bag? I have practice in a bit," I bite my lower lip nervously.

"Of course, sweetheart," Jackson chuckles, and I roll my eyes at his comment.

"It's a shame you don't like football," I mutter, walking absentmindedly on the sidewalk, occasionally kicking a small pebble that was in the way. "I couldn't play anyway, I'm a man," Jackson laughs. "You have nothing of a man, at most, you like them," I comment, and Jackson sighs slightly.

"Come on! Move it," I smile hearing Jackson curse at someone honking incessantly.

While I walk absentmindedly on the sidewalk, lost in my thoughts, someone bumps into me, making me lose balance.

"Watch where you're going!" I exclaim a bit irritated, clutching the phone tightly. "Sorry, I'm really in a hurry. I hope you're okay," says the woman with a conciliatory tone, her gaze expressing a mix of apologies and concern.

"Okay, no problem," I reply, trying to hide my irritation. The woman quickly moves away. "Bitch," I whisper to myself, shaking my head as I continue my way. The city's frenzy continues around me, and my phone vibrates again, a sign that Jackson might be around the corner for the ride to practice.

After the collision, I sigh lightly, and as I walk away, I notice something on the side of the road, near a small tree.

I squint my eyes, curious, and approach. I bend down to get a better look and discover a bracelet with a heart. "How cute…" I whisper, selfishly thinking it might be a perfect way to make amends with Jessica. Maybe the owner despairs, but in the end, who cares? Life is full of opportunities, and this could be mine.

I casually tuck the bracelet into my hoodie. A car honks, and I smile seeing Jackson's perfectly restored 1976 Ford Torino.

I get into the car, and we start a conversation as we drive through the city streets.

"Do you have any idea how magnificent this Torino is?" I ask, admiring Jackson's car.

"It's a true beauty, I know," he responds proudly. "So, spill… what happened? You have a nasty mark on your cheek." Jackson absentmindedly points his hand towards me, and I nonchalantly fasten my seatbelt.

"I had a little incident with Jessica." I shrug. "She can't accept that I just want sex from her," I confess, and Jackson opens his mouth in surprise. "Well… can't blame her," he comments, raising his eyebrows, starting the car.

"But look what I found along the way." I quickly change the subject and show the bracelet. "Free! Not bad as compensation, huh?" I chuckle. "A girl bumped into me, and she lost it… but who cares," I comment timidly.

Jackson laughs. "Maybe it could be useful to patch things up with Jessica," I add with a smile. "Maybe," he comments absentmindedly, shifting his attention to the car window, admiring the external landscape.

We almost immediately arrive at our university's sports field after the short journey. The 1976 Ford Torino roars to a powerful stop, and I get out of the car thanking Jackson for the ride.

"Good luck with the training," Jackson wishes me with an encouraging smile.

"Thanks, I'll need it," I reply, closing the door. I walk quickly towards the locker rooms, hoping not to attract the coach's attention.

But just when I thought I had gone unnoticed, the coach catches me red-handed. "Smith… you're late," he says with a serious voice, staring at me with a stern look.

"Traffic mystery, coach," I try to joke, but his look clearly indicates that he's not amused. "For this, you'll do 5 extra laps around the field," he decrees, and my smile fades. I start running towards the locker rooms, trying to make up for lost time and prepare for training, now with an extra load of fatigue to face.

A message arrives on my phone, and I smile seeing that it's from Jessica.

"Hey… sorry for earlier…"

The only thing I think is that maybe this whole affair is resolving itself more easily than expected.

JENNA'S POV

My breath is short, recovering after the frantic run to make it to the interview. Anxiety tightens my chest, but there's a particular reason amplifying the tension: I've lost the bracelet my husband gave me for our fifth anniversary.

Harry, though not the most present husband, is a good person. His executive career keeps him away from home most of the time, and this distance reflects on our marital life. His professional commitments often make him an occasional guest in our home.

My mind is torn between interview anxiety and the regret of misplacing such a special gift. Additionally, my shoulder hurts from the encounter with a grumpy girl. As I try to catch my breath, I realize this day didn't start in the best way, but perhaps it will hold unexpected surprises that will change the course of things.

I take a deep breath before knocking on the door labeled "Principal West."

"Come in," the male voice inside calmly calls for me to enter the office.

I step in and look around, noticing the photos and trophies on the shelves. I quickly observe that the man is surprisingly well-dressed.

"Mrs. Robinson!" The man opens his arms with enthusiasm, smiling with all 32 teeth. "Please, have a seat." He gestures towards the empty chair in front of his desk.

I sit down, and the interview begins. "So, Mrs. Robinson…" Principal West starts, picking up my resume.

"I prefer you to call me by my maiden name, Ortega," I correct gently. Principal West nods strangely. "Why is the wife of a prestigious businessman in my school?" he asks with genuine interest.

The issue is that I'm recognized for my status as a wife, not for my skills as a good writer with a master's in literature. I don't bring up this fact, of course. "I desire this job," I murmur distractedly, playing with my fingers.

In reality, writing makes me feel stuck, and I need a break.

Principal West, with a polite smile, looks over my resume. "I must admit, Mrs. Ortega, that your resume is impressive, perhaps even overqualified for the position of English literature teacher at our school."

I genuinely smile, but with a hint of embarrassment. "I appreciate the compliment, Principal West. I'm aware of my academic experience, but I strongly believe in the importance of contributing to students' growth, regardless of my background."

The principal seems to reflect on those words, then changes the subject, asking about my previous experiences in the field of education. The conversation continues, and I try to convey the passion I have for literature and teaching, hoping that it can overcome any doubts about my excessive qualification for the position.

"Alright, you've convinced me," the principal stands up and reaches out his hand to shake mine.

I blink in surprise and reciprocate the handshake. "Does this mean…" I begin, and the principal smiles.

"Yes, you got the job. You can start tomorrow," he announces, and I genuinely smile, happy for the news. A mix of excitement and gratitude fills my heart as I realize that a new chapter of my life is about to begin.

As he's about to leave the office, the principal stops me. "And give my regards to your husband… I'm sure he'll be proud of you," he says with eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. "I will, thank you so much, Principal West." With light steps, I leave the office, carrying with me the enthusiasm for the new opportunity and the awareness that even my husband might appreciate this achievement.

I walk through the hallways, looking at various lockers, and sigh for the nostalgic memories those places evoke. I check my phone and decide to inform my husband of the news as I make my way through the corridors.

"Hey, Harry!" I smile hearing that he accepts my call. "Hi, Jen," he responds calmly, his voice distant as if immersed in something.

"I need to tell you something." I bite my lower lip, hiding the excitement. "Is it important? I have a meeting," Harry whispers weakly.

I sigh audibly. "I got the job," I say suddenly, feeling discouraged. "Ah, good," he responds absentmindedly.

My eyes lift from the floor, and I see our car parked at the entrance of the institute. "Did you come to pick me up?" I ask with enthusiasm.

"No, I sent Tom to get you," he answers calmly. "Now I have to go," he mutters weakly.

"I love you," I say with a soft voice and hold back tears as I hear Harry hang up without responding to my statement.

I walk towards the car and sigh audibly, my heart heavy with sadness. "How did it go, Mrs. Ortega?" the driver asks kindly, sensing my melancholy.

"Yeah, good. I got the job," I reply with a faint voice, trying to mask the disappointed tone I feel inside.

The brief conversation with the driver is just background noise as I settle into the seat. I look out of the window, trying to hold back emotions. The landscape passes in front of me, but my mind is lost in thoughts. A single tear wets my face, and I can't help but feel vulnerable. The joy for the new opportunity is overshadowed by the realization of how distant my marriage is.

[iheartkiri]

draco malfoy is an idiot. (1)

                        ✧˖°ʚ🍓ɞ♡

You stood in the library, your movements sharp and angry as you slammed books back onto the shelves. It had been a month since your blowout with Draco, and the feelings from that night still rained heavy on your mind. Clearly, it had been a mutual sentiment as the tension between you and Draco whenever you two unfortunately ran into each other was thick enough to cut. 

Your childhood friends, Blaise Zabini and Theodore Nott, noticing your mood, exchanged concerned glances with each other.

"What's up with you, Y/N?" Blaise cautiously asked, his eyes darting between you and the bookshelves. "You've been pissed off for weeks. Did something go down with you and Draco?" 

You spun around, your eyes flashing with a mix of hurt and anger. "Oh that jerk?" you snapped, your voice dripping with bitterness. "I can't believe I ever considered that loser my friend."

Theodore frowned, his eyes filled with confusion. "What did he say that got you so riled up? We know Draco can be an ass sometimes, but a month of you guys not speaking is a bit much."

You clenched your fists, the hurt and anger bubbling inside you. "You know what he did? He called me sensitive and said I couldn't take a joke," you said, your voice shaking. "He made me feel like my feelings didn't even matter to him, like I was overreacting. He didn't even try to see where I was coming from."

Blaise's eyebrows furrowed, his expression turning serious. “Dang that's a low blow, even for Draco. We know he can be a jerk, but a month of you guys not talking is a little excessive. What exactly happened during that fight?"

You took a shaky breath, the memories of that painful day flooding your mind. "It started as off as a stupid joke, but then he took it too far. I tried to tell him how he was in the wrong, but he brushed me off. He didn't care that he was hurting my feelings."

Theodore placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, his eyes soft with understanding. "I get why you're angry, Y/N. Draco can be thoughtless. But a month is a long time. Maybe he's realized his mistake and is too stubborn to admit it."

You shook your head, your eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I'm not ready to forgive him, Theo. Not yet. He really messed up, and I need him to understand how much his words hurt. I won't be the one to cave."

Blaise stepped closer, his voice gentle and understanding. "We get it, Y/N. Draco can be an arrogant jerk sometimes. But we also know he cares about you. Maybe he's too proud to admit he was wrong, but we can try to talk to him, see if he'll apologize."

You scoffed, your anger simmering just below the surface. "Don't bother, Blaise. I don't want anything to do with him anymore. If he's waiting for my apology he can wait all he wants. Besides, he must be 'so sorry' himself to let a month pass by." You added sarcastically, rolling your eyes.

Theodore squeezed your shoulder, his eyes filled with determination. "Y/N, we just want to help. We know you and Draco go way back, and we can see you guys really care about each other. We're worried, and we want to fix this."

 You shook your head, your eyes flashing with a mix of hurt and stubbornness. "There's nothing between us Theo. Not anymore. And even if there was, it doesn't change the fact that he hurt me. I'm not ready to forgive him."

Blaise and Theodore shared a worried glance, their faces grim. "We won't push you, Y/N," Blaise said, his voice gentle. "But we're concerned. We know you and Draco have a very....close relationship. We just want to see you happy again."

You sighed, your shoulders slumping in defeat. "I appreciate it, guys. I know you're trying to help. But Draco and I are done, and that's final."

As you turned away from them, your eyes landed on the books you had angrily shelved, their spines crooked and out of place. It was a reflection of the chaos inside you—a chaos that idiot Draco had caused and seemed to have no intention of fixing anytime soon.

Blaise and Theodore exchanged a meaningful glance, their faces filled with concern. "We'll give it one more shot," Theodore said, his voice unwavering. "We'll talk to him, try to talk some sense into that rascal."

You shook your head, a bitter smile on your lips. You knew there was no way they could possibly make Draco Malfoy apologize.  "Good luck with that. Draco's too stubborn for his own good. And even if he is sorry, he won't admit it. He's too proud for that."

Blaise placed a hand on your shoulder, his eyes filled with sympathy. "We'll see, Y/N. We know how to get through to him. And if he truly cares, he'll find a way to make things right."

And as you continued to shelve books, your anger slowly fading into sadness, you knew that Blaise and Theodore would do their best to mend the rift between you and Draco. But deep down, you weren't ready to forgive him, not yet. The hurt was still too raw, and the silence between you stretched on.

-

[dmitriene]

— whispers of solace.

summary: in trying to relax, you see something that you should not, and as a result it turns into more. content: simon ghost riley x gn! reader tags: fluff, hurt and immediately comfort, angry ghost, maybe slightly flirt. author's note: was thinking about simon a lot and tiktok didn't help me much so please enjoy this short work!) enjoy your reading) 🖤

 ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌  ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌  ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌  ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ «i'm drowning in the night»  ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌   ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌  ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌«when i'm like this, you're the one i trust»

As Ghost leaned against the base's cold, dimly lit hallway, his usual stoic demeanor was shattered, his hands shaking slightly, indicative of confusion in his normally controlled mind, memories of his past, life before the task force haunted him relentlessly, the gravity of his actions, the loss of his family and the darkness he had embraced scratched his mind.

Unbeknownst to Ghost, you, a member of the same task force, went outside the base to rest, the faint glow of your cigarette lit up the night as you exhaled a cloud of smoke, lost in your own thoughts, you noticed a figure on the periphery slumped against the wall, it took you a moment to understand that it was the Ghost, your Lieutenant and a man known for his aloofness and cold appearance.

You watched as he punched the wall, a gesture of frustration and pain, his mask obscured most of his face, but his body language was enough to convey his vulnerability, it was a side of him that no one had seen before, so after a moment's hesitation, you approached carefully.

— «Is everything all right, Ghost?» you asked quietly, genuine concern was evident in your voice.

He looked up at you, his bottomless brown eyes wary but tired as his lips parted as if about to say something, but there were no words.

— «Clean yourself up» he grumbled, trying to regain his usual composure

His tone was as scathing as always, a weak attempt to push you away, however, something in his eyes betrayed the facade he was trying to maintain, so you didn't move, stooding your ground, instead you took another step closer, your gaze didn't wavered.

— «You know, you don't have to go through it alone»

A joyless laugh escaped his lips, a bitter sound hanging in the air.

— «Don't pretend you know something about me»

You didn't flinch, your determination unwavering, your hand slowly reaching out, your fingers touching the fabric of his mask before gently cupping his cheek, the touch was hesitant, but your warmth seemed to seep through the barrier he had erected.

Ghost's body tensed under your touch as his head jerked slightly to the side, a mixture of surprise and vulnerability flooding through him as he tried to pull away, his pride struggling with his need for comfort.

— «I said.. I said go away»

— «I won't leave you in this state» your voice remained soft, unshakable.

His mask cracked and for a moment his hardened body trembled, the hand that was ready to push you away now hung in the air, not knowing where to run, as you continued to stroke his cheek, the tension in his muscles gradually subsided and his eyes closed by allowing himself to enjoy the simple comfort you offered.

— «You're not as bad as everyone says you are..» you whispered, your words barely audible over the night wind and background noise.

— «You are more than stories and rumors, you're human, and you're allowed to feel»

He let out a convulsive gasp, his shoulders slumped as if a weight had been lifted from him, his hand finally lowered, hovering hesitantly before touching your hand on his cheek.

For the first time in an eternity, Ghost allowed himself to be vulnerable, his mask intact, but the cracks widened to reveal the side of him he had suppressed for so long, his gaze meeting yours, brown eyes that were a mixture of pain, longing and a glimmer of hope.

— «You don't know what i was doing..» he confessed, his voice was a mere whisper

— «I may not know all the details, but i know enough, and i know that you are capable of change» you said calmly, smiling softly and stroking his cheekbone with your thumb.

You two stood in a dark hallway, a silent rapport arose between you, the Ghost's defenses crumbled and a bond formed in that vulnerability, your touch became an anchor that grounded him to a reality that was not solely defined by his past.

As the minutes dragged on, neither of you spoke, words seemed superfluous in the face of this suddenly found connection, and eventually the Ghost's eyes closed, weariness gripping his weary body as you continued to caress his cheek, your touch a source of comfort and reassurance.

In that moment, the Illusive Man allowed himself to believe that maybe, just maybe, he wasn't as incorrigible as he once thought, and you, constantly present next to him, were a beacon of light leading him out of the darkness.

Over time, the silence between you and the Ghost became surprisingly comfortable, the tension that had held him captive for so long continued to dissipate with each gentle touch of your hand against his cheek, as if your touch had the power to unravel the tightly twisted threads of his emotions, allowing him to withstand the pain. that he buried deep inside.

In the midst of the silence, the Ghost's thoughts whirled, he remembered the faces of his family, their smiles, the warmth of their hugs and their shared joy, but these memories were intertwined with the darkness of his past deeds, the lives he had taken, the decisions that led him to the path he imagined could not.

— «You can't save me» he whispered, his voice a mixture of resignation and deep anguish.

— «Perhaps not all at once, but you don't have to face it alone, we're a team, remember?» your gaze remained fixed and unwavering.

A fleeting smile touched the corners of his lips, causing the mask to wrinkle slightly, allowing you to recognize his emotion, a small crack in the façade he had painstakingly built.

— «Stubborn, isn't you?»

You chuckled softly, the sound like a soothing melody in a quiet hallway — «Only when it matters»

The Ghost's eyes fluttered open, his gaze following the flutter of blond lashes to meet yours with a newfound sense of vulnerability — «It's been a long time since anyone cared to try»

— «Well, get used to it, because i'm not going anywhere» you answered with pure determination in your voice.

He was silent for a moment, his mask of indifference slipped even more — «Why?»

Your hand slipped from his cheek to his chest, just above where his heart was beating under tactical gear.

— «Because there is more to you than the stern appearance that you show to the world, i see the pain, the struggle, and the potential for something better, Ghost»

A soft sigh escaped his lips, a mixture of relief and apprehension — «What if i can't change, if i can't do it?»

— «Then we will face it together» you stated firmly before continuing — «But I believe in you, Ghost»

His eyes never left yours, and for the first time the distance he always kept seemed to disappear, the corridor, the base, the whole world disappeared, only you two and the fragile bond that formed, the Ghost’s hand hesitantly raised, his gloved fingers touched your cheek in response.

— «Thank you» he whispered in a barely audible voice.

You leaned into his touch and your eyes closed for a moment before meeting him again in a soft whisper

— «Anytime»

With a sense of understanding, the two of you stood in the dimly lit corridor, finding solace in each other's presence, the Ghost's vulnerability drawing you closer, and in that moment, an unspoken promise of comfort, support, and acceptance hung in the air.

The outside world may have been full of chaos and danger, but within this corridor you found something of value — a connection that had the power to heal, correct, and bring Ghost out of the darkness that had consumed him for so long.

© dmitriene - my masterlist please, don't copy my works as your own, and if you want to post them somewhere else - contact me. reblogs, likes and comments are very much appreciated, thank you for reading! ♡

[cyllres]

Devil | JJK x Makima! Reader

chapter 00

The roar of the chainsaw fills your ears, a deafening, mechanical growl that drowns out all other sounds. Then, a sudden, jarring impact-the blade meets your flesh. For a split second, there's only shock, your mind struggling to catch up with what's happening. The world seems to slow down, each second stretching into an eternity.

Pain explodes through you, a searing, white-hot agony that radiates from the point of contact. It's as if a line of fire has been drawn across your skin, the burning sensation spreading outwards in waves. Your nerves scream, a relentless assault that makes every part of your body tense and convulse. You try to breathe, but the pain is all-consuming, each gasp of air shallow and ragged.

The sound of the chainsaw is still there, but now it's accompanied by another noise-the sickening, wet sound of your flesh being torn apart. The sheer intensity of the pain is overwhelming, drowning your thoughts in a sea of red. You can't think, can't focus on anything but the excruciating sensation that seems to consume your entire being.

You laid there, motionless, as blood trail all throughout your body. The taste of defeat is bitter, an unfamiliar sensation that sits heavy in your throat. The moment is surreal, your mind struggling to process what just happened. You lost. It's a simple fact, yet it reverberates through you like a discordant note, each repetition stirring something strange and unfamiliar inside you.

Your breathing quickens, the world around you blurring as a hot, churning sensation rises in your stomach. You don't understand what's happening. This knot tightens and spreads to your chest, making the wounds burn even more. You tried looking at who dared to hurt you. Only to realize it's Denji, but didn't you already tore out his?

You want to shout, to lash out, to make them understand that this wasn't supposed to happen. You were supposed to win.

This is anger, you realize, but the recognition does little to alleviate your bewilderment. It's raw and consuming, an intense, unfamiliar drive that demands action. Your body trembles with the need to react, but you're not sure how. For the first time, you feel truly angry, a power that seems capable of anything, yet you're left laying there, caught between the impulse to act and the struggle to comprehend this potent, confusing emotion.

-

You wailed. Intense emotions plague you. Feeling foreign emotions control you. You feel angry.

A few seconds ago you were fighting the Chainsaw Devil, thinking you've won, you let your guard down. Oh how utterly stupid you are.

You thought you succeeded in defeating the Chainsaw Devil, you tore out its heart, and finally took possession of Pochita.

You thought

You thought

YOU THOUGHT!

Only for Denji to strike you with a chainsaw. You hate it, a simple mistake is what cost you to get defeated. But it doesn't matter now since that you healed, it seems. It might be harder since Denji already have an idea on your true intentions but dogs are easy to work with.

'You could tame him again.' You told yourself.

You tried laying up from what seems to be your bed only for you to wail harder, noticing that your body seems heavier. Why are you even crying in the first place?

"Ara~ Y/n-chan is crying." You heard a voice said, you tried opening your eyes only to realize that the world around you is blurry. Not that you were surprised since it always was blurry. But it also seems that you couldn't distinguish the scent of what or who was carrying you. The person started coo'ing at you. Giving you light kisses making you annoyed, nuzzling at you.

The disrespect! You're the most feared devil! How dare this dog kiss you! You tried to push yourself away, only to stop hearing a voice.

"Jin." You heard an older person's voice, making the younger person cradling you hum.

"What is it father?" They started as they continued to rock you slowly. "If you're going to talk about her, I'm going to leave."

"Jin, how you wish to live your life is up to you... But leave that woman." *The older person paused. "You will die!"

"Don't say these weird things in front of Yuuji and Y/n." They answered. "They can unexpectedly stick with you, a baby's memories-"

"I know you wanted a child, and you weren't able to have one with Kaori-!" The older person cutted them off, raising voice a bit. "But Kaori die because of-"

"Father." Another person? walked in. Making both of them stop. "What are you talking about?"

-

Kape?

[jaylienpotter]

My brainstorm and theory for @sebbianas jegulus famous exes AU

This was before the last update, I had tried to analyse the different updates to find out what James did. Publishing now that we have the answer (read update 16 and 16.5). Spoilers below.

Evan: you broke up with him

Reg: well he didn't exactly try to stop me now did he?

Reg seems a bit bitter that James didn't put much of a fight

"James Potter loves him. (...)"

"Was [Regulus] even allowed to do anything with it? Did he even deserve that after breaking James's heart? James's beautiful, delicate, wholesome heart that Regulus stomped 5 years ago"

Regulus feels as if he doesn't deserve the heart he broke even if James hurt him first?

"They're hurting each other again. Just like those last few months before Regulus finally had the courage to end it. It felt like they were 19 again, trying to build a name for themselves, handling rejections and disappointments by turning on each other."

Okay so they were having a hard time balancing the work life and career stress with their romantic relationship, making me believe that whatever James did had something to do with work/career

"[James] has always been so genuine and sweet, how could [Regulus] have ever let this man go."

So it wasn't anything malicious (which was already a given but yeah)

"[Being friends] is all he can allow himself, it's all he can give to James because he's not going to be the reason James loses his career. Not again."

This! This is the thing that stuck to me the first time. Confirms my theory of it being connected to work. So James probably did or was going to do something (without telling Regulus) that would put his own (James's) career at risk (singing or acting idk). Sirius commented it with his brother, not imagining what would come from it. Regulus felt guilty about what his boyfriend was giving up for him, but also betrayed for not being told it was happening?

Remus: have you ever thought about getting back together with him?

"The one option Regulus would never consider. He doesn't trust himself with James Potter and he doesn't trust James Potter with himself"

Reg: I love him but I'm so scared that what happened before will happen again. I don't know if I can trust him not to do it again.

"The fear and anxiety it brought him, the confusion and the anger, and most of all the pain James has caused him. (...) Remus seemed to understand unlike Pandora who called him dramatic but proceeded to hug and comfort him, told him he understood and even went as far as to say he would have done the same thing."

Reg was anxious and afraid that James would/did do the thing. It brought him fear, which isn't a light feeling. He was angry at James for the decision (yet never said anything).

Remus: I can't believe he did that. I mean I can believe it, he's James but at the same time why didn't he tell you? Why did you have to hear it from Sirius?

Reg: he's an idiot, is what he is. I don't know what I will do if he ends up doing the same thing again.

Remus: he was 19 when he did that, Reg. He's all grown up now, you can learn to trust him again and you can start by actually telling him all this.

It's something that most people would have the common sense to not do, but since it was James, it made sense he didn't have that.

It was something immature, that James would have probably outgrown now.

"There's still a part in him that feels guilty and broken over what James has done, has he somehow driven James to that decision? Was it something he said or did that made James think he needed to do that? Or did James never truly trusted him before?"

It was a decision, something James was consciously thinking of doing (or did). Which was something that in Reg's point of view, shows lack of trust.

"He was scared. He has always been scared of finding out what led James to do what he did. If it was a reflection of his shortcomings, was his love not strong enough for James to trust him?"

Ok James DID do said thing. It happened.

Final thoughts:

James made a decision in regards to his own career and hid it from Regulus

He told Sirius (but not the other marauders), who ended up telling his brother (probably mentioned or by accident and didn't think much of it)

James doesn't know that Reg knows about it

Reg broke up from fear of James ruining his own career and from anger and mistrust of not being told beforehand

It's something that Reg must have been able to impact somehow, since he felt guilty for it

[natasha-in-space]

ohhh I really do love how you write Saeyoung! could I request something with Saeyoung with an MC that has chronic pain/chronic illness and is worried about being a burden to him? I'd really appreciate it. >< 👉👈

"Hey, Saeyoung? Don't you... ever get tired of me?"

His eyes widened as he sharply turned around to meet your tired gaze, like your words physically burned him in some way. You felt guilty for making him worry about you like this... But, you were getting so, so, so tired of bottling all of this up for so long. At this point, you were too tired to even care, and this thought alone only made you feel worse about yourself.

It was a twisted spiral of negative thoughts that you were helpless to fight against.

"What are you talking about?" Clear confusion seeped into his hushed murmur, strung together with the growing sense of dread that was slowly making itself known on his deeply concerned face. He was worried sick, you could see it clear as day. There was so much stress on his weary shoulders as it is, with both Saeran struggling to adjust in the hospital and the threat of the prime minister looming over you all as close as ever.

And here you were just adding even more to the problem with your stupid personal issues.

A frustrated sigh fell from your lips as you felt your eyes start to sting from the bitter angry tears threatening to run down your cheeks any minute now. You were such a burden, and you hated every second of it. He should really focus on much more important things than this. "It's just- I'm just nuisance to you right now, isn't that right? I'm always tired, always too sore and painful to help you in any meaningful way, and all I can do is just lay here and whine about my own hurt to you. Doesn't that get tiring for you? You don't have to baby me, you know. I can handle the truth just fine. Just say it as it is and-"

"Stop." Saeyoung interrupted you before you could finish this ugly line of thought, getting up from his seat at the monitor and quickly making his way over to you. You pursed your lips into a thin line, feeling too ashamed of yourself to look him in the eyes right now, as you turned your face away, hoping that he wouldn't notice your tears that were getting harder and harder for you to hold back with every passing minute. He kneeled down next to the couch on which you were laying down in, cautiously taking a hold of one of your hands, before he spoke up again.

"I never got tired of you. Not even for a single second. And I never would. I love you Y/N... I love all of you, your body and soul. You don't need to do anything to be by my side. It's only thanks to you that I ever got to meet Saeran again. If it weren't for you believing in me, for you holding onto my hand and telling me that I can hope for a happier future with you... If it weren't for you, I'd still be living in the shadows, never daring to come out and seek out the truth for myself. You're amazing Y/N. You're the strongest person I have ever met, and I would never, ever, think that you are too tiring for any of the reasons you that just listed. You're not a burden for letting your body rest. In fact, I'd be very upset if you were trying to push yourself over your limits for me... I have no problem with you being too tired to go out with me somewhere, if that's something you're worried about. Your company is what matters most to me, starshine. You don't have to be someone you're not in order for me to adore you, because I already do exactly that. With all of my heart."

You swallowed the lump in your throat, shutting your eyes as tightly as you could. He was telling you the truth, you knew that. You knew that with every fiber of your being, but your stubborn mind just kept on trying to find every possible loophole in his words that could lead you to a different conclusion, like your life depended on it.

Finally, the first tear slipped down your cheek as a silent sob wrecked your tense body, making you clutch onto his hand, going against everything that you just said to him before. Of course, you didn't want him to leave. In fact, deep down, you didn't want to be viewed as a burden by anyone, even if your cruel thoughts kept telling you otherwise. It was... so hard to distinguish your true and honest feelings at times. Just like minutes prior, when you let this darkness overtake your mind for a brief moment of time.

You felt Saeyoung's hand gently caress your damp cheeks, brushing away the stray tears, and you leaned into his touch, seeking out the warm comfort he had always provided you in your worst moments. Next thing you know, he's already placing light kisses on your knuckles, making your heart flutter to life as you wondered whether or not you truly deserved to have such an amazing person by your side.

As if he could read your very thoughts, he seated himself on the edge of the couch, bringing his face closer to yours and gazing deeply into your teary eyes. You whimpered, not knowing what else was there for you to say. So, he spoke for you, peppering your entire face in loving kisses in between his words. "I can't say that I understand what's it like to be in your shoes every single day, starshine. But that doesn't mean that I don't want to learn. You will never be a burden to me, I promise you that on God himself. You are my most priceless treasure, my angel, my starshine, not a burden. I know that it can be... hard to manage these ugly thoughts inside of your head at times. But, please, rely on me whenever things get too hard to bear for you. You are not alone in this. You can tell me if I'm being overbearing, and you can tell me if you need any help. We may have problems... But, it's okay. Because I want to figure this out together. How does that sound?"

All you could do was nod, feeling more tears slipping down your cheeks at such a heartfelt confession from him. You had no idea just how much you needed to hear this from him. It felt like a huge weight was lifted off your shoulders, and all you wanted to do was hold onto him and never let him go.

So, you pulled him closer, hiding from the whole world inside of his safe arms for a few fleeting minutes of peace.

"Thank you. That sounds perfect... I love you. I love you so much I can't even put it into words." You whispered, sniffing some of your tears away and trying everything you can to ingrain his promise into your mind, so that you would not forget it any time soon. "I'm sorry for being stupid..."

"You're not being stupid. In fact, I'm very happy that you shared your worries with me. It couldn't have been easy for you." He stated matter-of-factly, this time, placing yet another kiss on the top of your head. "Do you want me to stay with you?"

You hummed in agreement, wiping away the last stray tears and nuzzling into his shoulder. "Yes, please."

[jayden-the-brionne]

And so the ritual was prepared. The sigils drawn and the candles lit. The dusknoir spoke strange words and before Jayden knew he found himself somewhere new. Not his house. Or Noe Town at all. But...a black void? It sure seemed like a black void with far away white spots on the sky. Like stars but not quite.

"Just what is this place..." Jayden muttered

"Was going to ask you that as well, Jayden." Said a voice behind him. A voice he knew. He turned around and saw the ghost. Even now the spirit was in flames and he seemed quite angry.

"I told you to not try anything else yet you contacted a specialist at ghosts to deal with me. Honestly the only reason I didn't stop that was because I found that would be entertaining to see what the specialist would come with and fail miserably altought I never expected... This." The ghost said.

And talking about the specialist... The dusknoir appeared between the two of them.

"State your names. And what each one wish to win with this battle." He said as a matter of fact

"You really think I will do as you as-"

"You shall,Spirit. Unless you wish to stay on here forever."

"... Elroy." The ghost finally admitted

"I am Jayden"

"Elroy and Jayden. Before this soul battle starts it must be decided what Elroy wins if Jayden loses. For what Jayden wins is already obvious. His freedom from Elroy's haunting."

"... He can have my house for the rest of eternity."

"You're saying if I defeat you I get a place to haunt no matter what?" The specter smiled.

"Yes."

"Deal!"

The dusknoir gave a look at Elroy. Then at Jayden.

"Then... Let the fight begin!"

And he floated far above the two

Alright Jayden... It is time to use the one thing you have above the ghost... You know more about battling like a Pokemon then him... Jayden tought.

The ghost went after him ready to punch the sea lion Pokemon. But via aqua jet he went to the right, dodging the attack and came back to the left hitting the ghost with the water move.

That seemed to have been effective if the spirit being sent somewhat away was anything to go by.

"How... How did you make that hurt that much!?" Elroy asked confused

"Guessed since you were on fire that you would act like a fire type. Turns out I was right." He smiled

"You're telling me that just because I died on a burning house... I have to be weak to stupid water moves!?"

The ghost became angry and what could be best described as multiple flames appeared. Forming together into one great flamethrower move going towards Jayden.

Jayden tried to jump over the flames but that would not work as hoped. The flames did not hit him mostly but did hit the end of his tail

He gave a small scream of pain. It might be not effective but it sure was still strong enough to hurt

"Why are you even doing this!? The whole haunting thing I mean. Why make people suffer?" Jayden asked as he used bubble beam. Shooting the projectiles at the ghost.

Elroy mainly tanked the bubbles. Not seemingly caring for the move

"Why!?" He shouted. "Because if I had to suffer when I had done nothing then why shouldn't others!? Why shouldn't the world be unfair to them as well!? And you know what!? After I'm done with you I will go after those dumb kids you care for and that stupid cat you love so much!"

The ghost concentrated and on one of his hands formed a shadow ball before trowing it at Jayden. The brionne responded by using bubble beam once again.

The moves collided. A explosion happened. When the smoke dissapeared enough for Jayden once again to be visible his confused expression had changed to one that showed a mixture of annoyed and sad.

"I see... I tought you were vengeful... But no... You are just bitter. Angry." He closed his eyes. "I understand the world was unfair to you. But that does not give you a right to hurt others. I... Don't hate you. I feel sadness and sympathy for you."

He opened his eyes. Now showing determination.

"But when you decided to threaten those I care for... You went too far. You are not worth their time. And if you think I will let a bitter ghost even dare to waste a second of their time... YOU THOUGHT...!"

And then he said as loud as he could. With as much determination as he could

"WRONG!!!"

The waves of noise so strong that they functioned as a attack hitting the ghost and making him go to the ground. Jayden had learned hyper voice without using a tm!

For a moment it seemed that was it but the ghost then floated up.

"You are starting to get on my nerves, Jayden..."

"I am afraid I have news for you. You don't have nerves. And soon you won't even be able to say mistakes like that in front of me."

End of part 2

[becausegraf]

Okkkk so I just want to thank you for your ZJ posts and your insight because I, too, relate, and I've been VERY angry about it...and reading your posts genuinely helped me and made me go "...oh" and...be less...resentful? Bitter? Just a little... So thank you, truly, and I hope you find all the peace and happiness you need.

Thank you for this message, anon. I hope it's okay I share it here and give my thoughts, because it certainly got me pondering for a bit. For a while. MaNy WoRDs AleRt

There is something very comforting in people's ability to resonate with fiction, and how through it, we're able to discover and share things with each other, and maybe even not feel so alone and isolated with our woes and joys.

In fiction I found a treasure trove of experiences, jewels and shinies to keep with me even if in 'reality' I wasn't finding much comfort. Diving deep into stories and exploring characters and their world has been something I've found a lot of fulfillment in for as long as I can remember, and I'm proud and grateful to feel like I'm part of the collection of people from all over the world and all throughout history that simply have a passion for sharing stories.

Our real experiences, the emotions we get to feel per proxy through fiction, and the processing and learning that happens when you put it all together is a fascinating alchemy.

It's a little funny in this bittersweet way that I felt immediately curious about Zoraal Ja, and I couldn't but feel compelled to fill in the blanks because it felt just... incorrect, unfair, an oversimplification to leave his story summary as ending on 'whoah, dude sure went craycray, guess he was just a bad egg'. And then a week of pondering later, it clicked. 'Oh...' indeed.

Anger is an 'ugly' emotion that tends to earn scorn in turn, a frown inviting a frown, when other kinds of expressions of suffering are often received with a little more compassion or patience. A character showing fear and uncertainty, grief and depression, seems easier for people to connect to emotionally, as a crude pattern. It's 'approachable'. The same seems to apply to real people.

Frustration, resentment, confusion that furiously demands an explanation, defensiveness that does not ask for space politely but puts up its barbs...

In my experience, it's very easy to end up being painted as 'the bad guy', even if you're just reacting to pain that is caused by others, and all you really want is for things to stop tormenting you.

Anger often gets people to mistakenly assume you can't be hurt, that you don't deserve to be handled with consideration and care in the same way as someone who expresses their hurt as sadness, anxiety, exhausted helplessness. It gets people to assume you're untrustworthy, antisocial, unempathetic. An enemy, a problem, an ego to take down a peg or two.

It's easy enough to start believing that about yourself, too. That your anger is strength, proof that you don't need anything from others. That unlike those that cave in and run for comfort and beg for mercy, you have dignity, you can do it alone, you can endure what they crack under, you are Resilient.

When you're really just suffocating in a bell of isolation, without a mirror to see yourself clearly in, and it's all distorted and it's up to us to help ourselves, and we should be capable of it, we should overcome our own weakness, we should, should, should...

Zoraal Ja keeping people at arm's length? Good lord, I don't need to have anything spelled out to me to *recognize* this phenomenon, this invisible bear trap you can be caught in and if you dare to squeak in pain, all you'll get is people blaming you for being stuck in it in the first place. Like you deserve it, like you could've known better, like you could maybe first try being a little nicer to people, a little more... grovel-y.

The unfairness of it is *maddening*, and it can be so difficult to talk about because showing people these sharp and pointy feelings and letting out the storm of confusion often gets you stunned silence at best.

'I trust only in myself'

Oh, Zoraal Ja, there's no need for that but holy pancakes mate, I get it, I get it so well. It sounds like an obvious absurdity if you look only at the surface layer, but such feelings exist in real people, and real experiences cause such self-defeating beliefs to take root and grow.

The people that should be protecting us, loving us, supporting us... They don't, somehow it looks like they just can't, like we're immune to their help. The fuck are we supposed to do about that, huh?

Why does it happen? Fuck if anyone can tell you. Seems like a you problem...?

If you get rebuked enough times, you just stop trying, you stop expecting it to be worth the drag of trying and failing to explain. You show people that 2+2 = 4 and they keep asking why it's not 5. Fine, be wrong, then, I'm done fishing for understanding. I don't know why I feel the way I do either, but being told 'well you're just emotions-ing all wrong' is useless as hell.

We're in pain, bear it with the most stoic face we can, and when we let people a little closer, they can hurt us more out of sheer lack of empathy, ignorance, missing the signs and having no clue how they're just doing the same things as everyone else that makes us want to slam the door and go back to sulking alone. 'Misunderstood' is an apt term here - people suck at 'reading' it, and what they think they see is not the truth. Ah, but then we're the ungrateful meanieface jerk, eh. 'Yo, I'm just trying to be nice, what is your damn problem'.

People making us feel like I'm some kind of inhuman construction with a forcefield that makes people draw all kinds of conclusions about us *other than the reality as we feel it*. That's the problem tyvm.

But sometimes, through fiction, we get to see ourselves reflected.

We find others who stared and went '...hi there, familiar face', too, and we get to pile up what we've learned along the way about what's going on here, and learn from each other that maybe our experience is hardly universal, but we're not alone, and we're as human with emotions that can be understood as everyone else.

Some kinds of understanding are just trickier to find, and I'm glad that the fruits of my obsessive digging and scratching and biting at the issue have yielded me some insights that stilled my confusion and allowed me to slowly let go of the agitation of having no clue what's going on.

Funny, huh, how 'understanding' really is a fundamental pillar of coping. Once you start seeing the telegraphs, find out where the tooltips have been hiding, and you turn off the dazzle of effects that obscure the source of danger, well...

Let's say I've become a little better at dancing my way through content over time, and it makes me happy to know that some of my tricks are helping someoneone else find their feet a little easier, too.

Stay cool, fren, we'll be alright.

[impvrfectlyleni]

".... to include myself".

I came across a video yesterday that has been replaying over and over in my mind. Kerry Washington speaks about sacrificing self for others, and how it is inherently good to care for others and how they feel. She follows that by saying that what she is learning now, is to let herself be one of those people; to include herself.

I also ran into someone who was once such an important part of my life yesterday. He was with his partner and although the conversation lasted for maybe 2 minutes, the last words he said to me were 'I can tell that you're different. I can tell that you've been jaded and are carrying a lot of hurt from it, and I'm sorry for whatever role I played in that'.

Both of these things have been really running in my mind over and over. I think I always thought that you put good in, you get good out. Even when I have felt wronged, in some twisted way it's made me pump out more and more good (in the form of forgiveness, or being understanding, or letting things slide). But...there is no good coming out. I grow more and more bitter as the days go, and the version of myself that I am becoming, is calloused in a way that I never saw for myself. I have always been softer than most, more sensitive than most. I saw early on how that could lead to me being used and so I got smart and masked my softness under sarcasm, and as one of my favorite people likes to say, a whole lotta yapping. But what I never prepared myself for, was how I would feel when that exterior guard was down and I was vulnerable. There is a certain level of pain you feel when the soft and vulnerable version of you gets rejected. I have tried over and over to not let that change who I am and how I show up for people but truth be told, it shows up. The little girl in me is so confused right now, trying to understand what's so wrong with me that those who I accept in their entirety do not do the same for me. I am confused, I am bitter, and most of all I am so angry. I am angry that there is no grace extended for me. I want to say that I am angry at these people but truth be told, a lot of this anger is towards myself. I get angry because people's actions have brought me to a point where I am questioning everything that I thought I knew. Why do I allow it?

The world is big and there's so many fucked up things going on. But in my tiny little world, everything feels so wrong and so lonely right now. I hate that I've let my experiences change me and callous me, and I hate that someone who once knew me to be soft and gentle was able to recognize this change. Something has to change. The 'good' that I keep pumping out into others, I need to include myself in that equation. How I feel matters. How I view the world matters. The tenderness, understanding, and forgiveness that I extend to others, I have to include myself and extend it just the same.

[casspurrjoybell-28]

Alpha's Temptation - Chapter 42 - Part 2

*Warning Adult Content*

I wait there with my arms crossed as Theo walks across the lawn, giving me an awkward wave.

He still wears his dark sunglasses, the same as usual.

I feel like I've only seen his eyes twice in my life.

He probably knows what's happened between Daemon and I.

They are brothers, after all.

"Are you here to say 'I told you so'?" I ask him as he approaches.

He was the one who told me that Daemon would break my heart.

At that time, I didn't believe him.

But now... Theo lifts his shoulders in a shrug, running a hand through his hair.

"Well, did I not?"

"You did."

I watch him skeptically as he comes to stand in front of me.

"I told you that because I know my brother. It was only a matter of time before he'd do something like this," he says and then he's reaching out, pulling me into an unsettling hug.

Why the hell is he hugging me?

I push him back, slightly, looking up at him with confusion on my face.

"A-are you trying to comfort me? I thought you hated me, Theo. Don't you think I'm some kind of gold digger?"

Theo sighs, shaking his head.

"I misjudged you, Ash. I let my bias against Daemon pass on to you. For that, I am sorry."

"Really?" I raise an eyebrow.

This is weird. Very weird.

"Of course," he pats my shoulder.

"Sit with me."

He sits down on the steps and I begrudgingly join him, still absolutely bewildered.

It's quiet for a few moments as I wait for him to speak.

"Was Daemon good to you?" he finally asks.

"W-what?"

"It's a simple question. But you don't have to say, if you don't want to."

"I guess h-he was. For the most part," I say, telling the truth, despite the bitterness the mention of my mate brings me.

"The second part of your statement brings me to believe he wasn't."

"I mean he was g-good," I pause for a moment, thinking about whether this is really something I should be talking about with Theo.

But against my better judgement, I go on.

I have nothing to lose, anyway.

"B-but sometimes he'd get... angry. And there was one time when he got..."

I stop myself as tears rise, remembering the time he shouted at me that I was annoying.

"He got drunk. You can say it," Theo finishes my sentence for me.

"O-Okay," I sniffle.

"It was only going to get worse from there. Daemon is...damaged. He has no control and ends up hurting those he's close to. He lets his anger get the best of him."

I wince at Theo's words, can't helping the need to defend my mate.

"B-but..."

"He left you. Of his own will. He didn't have to go on that mission. He chose to. I would know, being the pack Alpha."

My argument stalls and I stare at Theo with sad eyes, tears spilling out.

Daemon really did that?

Just so he wouldn't have to see me anymore?

"He left so he didn't have to deal with the aftermath of ending things with you. What were you going to do, Ash, if years down the line he did this?"

"I d-don't know," I cry into the sleeve of my sweater,

"Maybe he had his reasons."

Theo wraps an arm around my shoulders, pulling me against him.

"You don't need him. No mate at all is better than a mate like him."

This is all very strange to me but I'm vulnerable right now and someone offering me comfort is better than nothing at all, even if it is Theo.

I cry into my hands, letting my head rest on his shoulder.

H-he's such a jerk," I sob, my chest constricting with pain.

"That's Daemon for you."

"I j-just don't get how he could leave me s-so fast. Like I w-was nothing..."

I continue to weep and Theo keeps his arm wrapped tight around me, silent as I let out all kinds of confessions about how horrible I feel and how mad I am at Daemon.

After awhile I calm down, hiccuping and wiping my face with my sleeves, my chest rapidly rising and falling.

Once I've fully stopped crying, Theo pulls back to look at me. I blink at him, not knowing to say.

My face is sore and probably extremely red.

I don't expect it when Theo lifts his hand, removing his glasses to reveal dark stone eyes.

I stare at them, an unsettling feeling in my gut.

Then he's reaching for me, and I sit there baffled as he caresses my face.

"He doesn't know what he had," Theo says, stroking my hair behind my ear.

"W-what?" I ask in confusion, recoiling from his touch.

"You have potential far greater than this, Ash. I see it. How devoted you are to others, how you stand up for what you believe in. That kind of heart is what I need beside me."

Theo complimenting my assets is probably one of the last things I ever thought would happen.

"W-where are you going with this?"

Theo takes a deep breath before he says,

"Be my Luna."

Silence.

My jaw nearly drops as soon as the words leave his mouth.

"You're joking."

"Does it look like I am?" he says in a serious tone, his brows lowered in a frown.

Shit.

From the look on his face, he really means it.

"Why would you ever... this doesn't even make sense! I'm still in high school... not to mention I'm your brothers mate."

Theo shakes his head.

"None of that matters. You are my mother's gift to me. I was bitter, at first because I thought she sent you for Daemon. But now I know she would never do that. She'd never give you to someone like him."

"She 'sent' me? What does that mean?"

Rose died before any of them knew I existed!

"That is all you need to know," he says, standing up.

"Think about what I've said. If you join me, you will never want for anything and you will rule this pack alongside me."

"A-are you crazy?" I ask in shock.

Theo shrugs.

"He is not coming back, my moon. It really would be in your best interests to consider my offer."

I watch in utter confusion as he walks back across the lawn, getting back in his car.

Did Theo just freaking propose to me?

That's what that was, right?

What is happening?

I go back inside with the strangest, most ominous feeling and can't help but feel a certain sense of déjà vu about the whole situation.

[self-destructing-sad-boi]

I talked to her daughter a few days ago. I'm so proud shes on hormones and that she had the courage to change her college course. I love her still

I'm bitter. I'm angry. I watched a Greys Anatomy death scene compilation the other day to cry. I'll never be over Derek's death

I never wanted to leave. I just didnt feel like I could stay

[i-like-sparkly-things]

Right in front of you

A Halstead!sister

Jay held a strong grip on your upper arm as he led you out to the school hall. "What the hell was that Y/N? Are you happy now? God.... I can't believe you cheated!" he sneered, "EYES UP HERE Y/N!! "

"I'm sorry" you sighed, locking eyes with Jay, silently praying that he would let this go. It was only one time anyway. It wasn't a big deal.

But he let out a hollow laugh, "Thirty percent, Y/N, THIRTY PERCENT. You're going to have to do better than a half-ass apology. What exactly are you sorry for? Huh? For cheating? Or being caught?"

Requested : Yes by @study-coffee-chicago : They found out she cheated on a test in high school...and Jay's the one who has to pick her up.

Warnings : angry!Jay (lots of it), alcohol, swearing, anxiety attacks

Note : I am so so so sorry this so longg 😭 I ended up so far away from the actual request kayela please don't block mee 😭 butt I've learned alot in writing abt active and passive voices and using more imagery Yayy!! I'm so glad that yall are ok with my grammar thank uu🥺

MASTERLIST HERE

The piles of homework and flashcards you needed to memorize had no end in sight, and now that Will was taking nightshifts along with his usual double shifts, and intelligence was tracking down an underground drug cartel, you spent most days alone, allowing your mind to engulf you.

Every time you sat down to study, you felt a striking pain in your chest. In mere seconds the air was sucked out of your lungs and you found yourself panting, desperate to get oxygen back into your body.

You would be surrounded by books and worksheets and you could swear the walls of your room were closing in towards you, trapping you in a sea of incomplete work.

You failed to follow the schedules and to do lists you had made for yourself. Staring at them, hoping the essays would write themselves.

All you needed, was a break. A moment to relax from anything and everything.

So when your best friend mentioned that her brother used to drink a little before he appeared for an exam, your mind was quick to catch on.

Last night you had borrowed a little bit of beer from Jay's stash of alcohol and took a few sips of it as you studied.

The more you drank, the less bitter it became. It was a weird, new sensation, but it worked nonetheless.

Except now, you were sitting in the girls bathroom at school, ramaging through your notes, trying to recollect what you had learned yesterday.

You saw what you had underlined and highlighted— names in pink and important dates in yellow—but your mind came up blank.

Flipping the pages you saw people in wigs, and castles burning to the ground —None of which you recognized.

A wave of anxiety rippled through you unable to comprehend your next thought —you were going to fail.

Your head was throbbing as you ran a hand down face, massaging your temples trying to calm yourself down.

You took out your water bottle that you had filled with beer and swallowed a few gulps, hoping that it would help you think straight.

You groaned, feeling the sting of alcohol at the back of your throat, popping some mints into your mouth, you ran towards the exam hall.

***

Your foot bounced on the polished wood floors as sweat pooled on your forehead.

You thought you were careful —only taking a peek from your friends answer sheet when Mrs.Ling's back was facing you.

Everything would have worked out if it wasn't for that kid sitting behind you. In a split second your teacher turned around, when he dropped his pen, to see you peering over your partner's desk.

Now you were sitting in the principles office praying that Jay wouldn't be the one picking you up.

You could already imagine his anger at you for pulling him away from his case, only to find you cheated.

Unfortunately luck was not on your side today.

You dare not look at Jay as he entered the office, letting out a huff as he sat down. You could feel the rage emitting him, tension filling the room, as he burned holes looking at you.

"I'll get straight to the point" Your principal started.

"Please" Jay growled, struggling to contain himself. He couldn't believe what he was hearing, when he got the call saying that you had cheated on your midterms.

You and Will were alike,at least he thought so, both good at science and math but weak at geography and history. Nonetheless you continued to secure good grades for the most part.

"Y/n here, was caught cheating from a classmates answer sheet. Our teacher caught her red handed. I truly did not expect this from you. These midterms cost thirty percent of your grade..... "

Pretty soon his voice was muffled like he was getting farther and farther away from you. His figure swayed in front of you as you squinted your eyes to keep him in the center of your vision.

" You are suspended, Mrs halstead"

Your eyes widened , your body choosing the perfect time to bring out what little beer you had taken when you heard those words, letting the alcohol mix with the adrenaline.

"WHAT??!! " Damn, alcohol really bought out your courage as Jay stared at you in shock at your audacity.

"Y/n, your lucky I'm letting you retake the exam. That's only because you've had a clean record so far. I strongly suggest you start preparing early Ms. halstead" your principal said in a firm but monotone voice that left you speechless.

Jay held a strong grip on your upper arm as he led you out to the school hall. "What the hell was that Y/N? Are you happy now? God.... I can't believe you cheated!" he sneered, "EYES UP HERE Y/N!! "

Oh god. Every now and then, the ground would sway beneath you, tiles shifting in your vision. But you counted your steps, carefully putting one foot in front of the other, not wanting Jay to find out what else you had done........ until now.

You tilted your head, only to be met with your brother's piercing stare but little did he know, now it made it infinitely harder to concentrate on your walking.

"I'm sorry" you sighed, locking eyes with Jay, silently praying that he would let this go. It was only one time anyway. It wasn't a big deal.

But he let out a hollow laugh, "Thirty percent, Y/N, THIRTY PERCENT. You're going to have to do better than a half-ass apology. What exactly are you sorry for? Huh? For cheating? *Or being caught?*"

***

You rested your head on the seat as Jay entered the truck, flinching, when he slammed the door shut. Your pounding headache was getting worse by the minute, as your ears started to ring.

You blinked a few times squinting to focus on the road ahead of you but the fast-moving cars and the loud horns made you feel like your head was going to explode.

"Y/n," he addressed you, much calmer now.

You forced yourself to turn to your brother, who wore a confused expression.

But the moment he saw your deshelfed hair and your cracked lips, a wave of worry crashed over him. What the hell?

The truck came to a stop at a red light and Jay immediately scanned you over "Y/n?" he grabbed your chin, his jaw dropping, as he came face to face with reality.

"Are you drunk!!?" he barked , steam basically pouring out of his ears.

But your pleading eyes and empty silence gave him the answer he needed. "Are you kidding me??" he snarled as he slammed the steering wheel.

Oh God no. A blinding pain ripped through your head when Jay's palms made contact with the hard plastic. You winched turning your head away from your furious brother, letting out a whimper.

Jay's eyes widened at the sound, his heart breaking, realizing the pain you were in.

If he was going to be mad at you or at least punish you, you needed to be sober.

He stepped on the pedal as the light turned green taking a few breaths, trying to calm himself down.

With the vice lords reclaiming their territory and selling uncut fentanyl, bodies were dropping all over the city most of them being kids.

Kids..... your age.

Every kid at the morgue, just reminded him of you. He saw parents sobbing, begging for their kids to come back but Jay new better. They were never going to come home. Ever.

So he made it a priority to catch these ruthless creatures. He made it a priority over his sleep, over nine hours shifts and unknown to him, over spending time with you.

"Hey , hey" he whispered, not wanting to hurt you again, "We'll talk about this later ok? for now...... just..... it's ok..... I've got you" here reached out his hand, the other still on the steering wheel, to slowly rub your back as you tried to breath through the pain.

" I got you"

***

Jay wrapped a hand around you allowing you to hold onto him for support.

Silently, he deposited you on the couch, laying you down. He knew that he wasn't in any state to talk to you. He needed to clear his mind from his racing thoughts and rueful images of dying teenagers.

His phone rang, indicating that the district was awaiting him. "Here" he reluctantly shook your shoulders "Y/n, I need to go ok? Will will be here soon"

***

Almost half an hour had passed and you were waiting for Will to get out of the shower. You'd heard Jay explain everything to him over the phone.

You thought about how disappointed he would be.

Will —being the nerd he was— always helped you with your projects and gave you pop quizzes during breakfast, before your exams. He taught you how to organize flashcards just like he did in med school.

Even through your blurry thoughts, the image of Will's betrayed face and embarrassed eyes, knowing you cheated, lingered on your mind.

Your body was all over the place. Tiny noises echoing through your ear. Your muscles simultaneously aching and loose.

You were shivering as you tried to curl up into a ball. Your body trying to hold what little heat it had within itself.

But nothing stopped your tears.

You felt water drops make their way down your cheeks forming small splotches of water on the cushion you laid your head on.

And you didn't bother to wipe them away.

Will more or less was in the same state you were in. There was a multi-vehicle accident on the highway and victims were piling in the ED. He was running from one treatment room to the other, waiting to get back home and crash.

Will walked over to you with a huge glass of water and an advil, gently  nudging you to sit up.

Your head still pounded, your eyes zoning in and out of the figure in front of you "Y/n, here drink the whole glass and take this" Will soothed, placing the glass and the pill in your hand "I—I'm sorry" You whispered, distracting yourself from Will's eyes.

Will knew he should be angry. Just like Jay was but he couldn't bring himself to blaming you, not until he had the full story anyway.

You looked so petite on the enormous couch, your legs folded on top of each other, arms shaking as you drowned the glass of water along with the Advil.

Your red puffy eyes and tear strained cheeks,were a contrast from your usual self. or he thinks. He's been pretty busy lately, so he's not too sure. " We'll talk about it later. I'm not angry. I promise"

He assured and was about to head to bed himself when you grabbed his wrist.

If he wasn't angry at you then maybe— just maybe—he would help you.

"Stay" You pleaded , the word falling from your lips just as easily as it had, many, many times before.

And just like before, you were met with Will's soft brown eyes filled with sympathy, ready to help. Ready—to be by your side.

He's slowly nodded climbing onto the couch, next to you. He wrapped an arm around you and you nestled into him, laying your head on his chest.

You found some comfort as he embraced you, talking you under his arm and encompassing you in his warmth.

Holding on to him, you hoped that he would take your pain away, just like he did when you were little.

***

Will woke up to an uncomfortable feeling of something —or someone—   tugging at his shirt.

He slowly opened his eyes allowing them to adjust to the light as he felt another a tug at his side. He looked over to you, but your eyes were shut, brimming with tears, your arm laid across his chest.

You were holding on to Will , using him as a lifeline, grounding you from the pain.

You felt a hand squeezing your own, stopping you from gripping the fabric "Y/n?" You opened your eyes to look up at will who had tears of his own, staring at the state you were in "it's okay, I'm here, I'm right here"

He encircles you, tighter than before, whispering soothing assurances into your hair.

***

With Will's help, the pain slowly subsides, allowing you access to your thoughts again.

You step out of the shower, into the living room and your eyes widen seeing Jay and Will sitting at the kitchen counter.

You didn't even hear Jay come in, but right now taking in his hardened glare, you didn't dare ask.

You knew what was coming and you didn't fight. You couldn't.

"So apparently we're cheating on our midterms now, huh?" Jay's calm voice made shivers run down your spine, starting to take rapid breaths.

"And apparently, someone thinks it's ok to steal alcohol from my stash" He gritted, never breaking I contact with you. "Do you think that's how the world works Y/n? DO YOU? BECAUSE LAST TIME I CHECKED YOU'RE STILL A FUCKING TEENAGER!!" He spat, his thoughts fuming towards your trembling body.

It was every dieing body flashing before his eyes, as the past months' agony slipped off his tongue.

"Jay" Will's voice was stern, giving a knowing look towards his younger brother and didn't bother to give Jay time to argue with him.

"Y/n, we need to know what's going on"

"With school, with tests with....... everything" he stated giving you a solemn look meaning every word he said, promising himself that he would do whatever it takes to figure out what had been going on.

You sucked in a breath weighing all your options. You didn't want them to think that you needed a babysitter or  that you couldn't take care of yourself.

You knew that they had their own problems to worry about but you couldn't take it anymore.

You hated it.

The feeling of your lungs collapsing, struggling to find air for your body, your stress skyrocketing anytime you sat down to study, never getting any thing done.

All day long you would constantly tell yourself to do your work. Every spare second is spent in making a list of things you want to do but when it was time to actually do those things, your mind wandered and emptied.

You took another deep breath, looking up from your feet, your eyes meeting your brothers.

You spilled the past months events from how alone you were all the time and not being able to concentrate to how you ended up drunk at school and cheating on your midterms.

Tears rolled down your cheeks as you your hands trembled. You stood crying in the middle of the room until you felt a pair of arms around you.

Will placed his hand at the nape of your neck as he stroked your back with the other "Breathe Y/n, just Breathe" He slowly pulled away leading you to the couch.

God, how he wished he could turn back time. Then he'd been more vigilant to notice the changes that had come over you.

You felt the couch dip on both sides but you intently studied your fingers, fumbling with the hem of your shirt and wiped the tears off your face. They were mad. No, they were furious. You knew it.

But for some reason, they weren't showing it. Maybe they were waiting-

"We're not mad"

You without your head around to look at Jay, furrowing your eyebrows in disbelief. Jay? Not mad? HA.

"but I am disappointed though, but that's only because you didn't tell us......

but stealing alcohol was bad too" he added, earning him a glare from Will.

"Y/n, what Jay means is— we could've helped with school . Homework . Tests . Anything, you name it. We will help" he assured, "But how do we know you need help, if you don't tell us?"

You sighed, taking in the weird turn of events that had happened before you. You had wasted all this time, trying to figure out all your problems out, when the answer was right in front of you.

A mountain of guilt now sat on Jay's shoulders, weighing down on him, pushing him deeper into a wormhole of 'if's'.

Maybe if he'd just been a little more careful, this wouldn't have happened.

Maybe if he'd stop and listen to you once in a while, this wouldn't have happened.

While trying to save kids out on the street, he forgot to care for the kid at home. You were his sister, and yet, here you are in front of him, barely keeping yourself together.

But that would change. Right here. *Right now.*

"Y/n," Jay started "If you would have told us how alone and stressed you were feeling.....I would've taken some time off... Maybe we'd watch a movie or something. All you had to do was ask...... And we'll get you the help you need, y/n. You good with that?" he questioned, his anger and frustration dissipating.

You saw your brother, the workaholic detective, wanting to put his job aside, for you .

You were more important to him, than his job—You realized.

" Yea... Yeah, I am"

Will stood up and got another advil with another glass of water. "and maybe you wouldn't end up drunk and cheating on your test" he smirked, crouching in front of you.

"God, I didn't think it would hurt this bad. I am never drinking again!" you smiled , as you drowned the pill.

"See now that's what I like to hear!!" Jay exclaimed, wrapping his arms around you, squeezing you into his chest. You squirmed, trying to get out of his grip, laughing, when you were joined by Will.

You know what? Maybe, things are going to be okay? Ya know?

__________________________

Read more of my fics here!!

Tagging : @girlandthemoon @herecomesthewriterwitch @megaliciab @meyocoko @alkadri-layal

[godmother-encanto-au]

Godmother Chapter Seven-Home

In which old superstitions are recalled and reunions are had.

…..

I have to say a quick thank you to everyone who has reviewed the fic so far, reviews go a long way to keep me motivated to keep writing, especially right now as I'm hooked up to a heart monitor and don't really feel like doing anything full stop. Feel free to ask any questions, though I can't promise a straight answer when I'm trying to build suspense.

…..

When Isabela was born, everyone in the village came to Casíta to congratulate the new parents and see the baby. Julieta would recall one little visitor for years to come.

Her name was Gabriela, she was about six or seven years old, and her family hadn't lived in the Encanto for very long. She smiled and waved at the baby like all the other children who had come to visit, until...

“Oh Gabita, isn't she beautiful?” her mother cooed.

“No.”

There was a stunned, incredibly awkward silence. Gabriela stared back at the confused new parents.

“Apologize right now,” her mother hissed.

“But my nonna said!” Gabriela insisted. “You can't say a baby is beautiful, it will make the espíritu jealous and they'll take the baby away and put a monster in its place!”

The mother groaned, wrapped one hand around the little girl's mouth and pulled her away.

“I am so sorry,” she said over Gabriela's muffled protesting. “Her abuela, she has her ways...from the old country, you know?”

The residents of the Encanto had ancestors all over the world, it was next to impossible to know what old country she was referring to. There were a variety of old superstitions and customs observed all over the village, some of them exceedingly strange. But they had dismissed it at the time, laughed it off as a funny story they would tell Isabela when she was older.

Julieta would recall it a few years later, in much unhappier circumstances. And she was recalling it again, in the days following the funeral, Gabriela's serious little face as she declared that a baby must never be called beautiful or it would be stolen away.

I should have listened to her, and not gotten so attached to my babies. It would hurt so much less.

She was stuck in a cycle of intense grief and cold resentment. She hadn't gone into the kitchen since the memorial, couldn't bring herself to cook anything. Food tasted like ash in her mouth, eating was an unpleasant chore. She spoke very little, for fear that she would lash out and hurt someone.

She was angry with her sister, who was regularly dissolving into crying fits, even though she still had three living children. She was angry with her own children and her niece and nephew, though she knew it was wrong, for failing to save Mirabel. She was angry with Mariano Gúzman for entrusting her daughter's fate to an inept, violent mob. She was angry with her husband for how he didn't seem to be as devastated as she herself was. She was angry with Antonio for carrying Mirabel's glasses around and refusing to put them away, dealing her a fresh wave of pain every time she spotted them hanging out of his pocket or clutched in his hand.

She held an icy bitterness towards her own mother, a bitterness that had built up over years of watching Alma dismiss Mirabel, push her to the the edge of the family unit and enabled them all to get so careless that a stranger was able to take her away. Even the Casíta earned her contempt, every corner, floorboard and window was a reminder of what she had lost.

Mostly, she saved her anger for herself. She hated that she had let her mother dominate how she brought up her own children, how reliant she had been on the validation from the community, how useless she had been in protecting her child. She hadn't even realized Mirabel was missing until the fire was put out, she turned that little fact over and over in her head. She failed to learn from the first time she turned her back for just long enough...

...and leave a monster in its place...

She really hated that shred of doubt that festered after so long, that Mirabel had never really been hers to keep in the first place.

She was staring out the window, tracing a path through a nearby cornfield and recalling that cold dread she had felt the first time...

“Julieta? Please, we need you to come out...”

This knock on the door came once a day. The villagers were starting to gather at the Casíta again, expecting the grieving period to be over and life to get back to normal. Julieta could see them from where she was, holding injured arms and loosely bandaged heads, helpless as children.

“Not today,” Julieta called back to her mother. “Maybe tomorrow.”

Alma sighed, loud enough to be heard through the door. It was the same response she'd gotten the day before, and would get the next day. The Madrigal gifts had not gone away, but they had definitely been weakened by everyone's mental state. The Casíta itself was in mourning, it did not move or react with the same gusto that it had before.

“The villagers need you, amore,” Alma called again. “I know how you feel, but you are letting them suffer...”

Good. Let them suffer like I'm suffering.

“Have them bring in a real doctor,” she retorted. “Like every other village.”

Alma's footsteps slowly shuffled away. Julieta had always been her best-behaved child, dutiful and placid and always willing to help. She had never talked back with such venom before, even in her teenage years when some rebellion was to be expected. Julieta knew that her mother had a hard time handling the change and a little spiteful part of herself was enjoying Alma's discomfort.

There was another window in her room, overlooking the troje, still scorched from the fire. Dolores was having a small struggle with Antonio, just as Pepa and Felix had been having since the memorial.

“Give me the glasses now,” Dolores demanded in a hushed tone. “You can't keep doing this!”

“No,” Antonio huffed, clutching Mirabel's glasses to his chest. “She needs them.”

“You are hurting your Tia Julieta, is that what you want? The glass is broken, you'll cut yourself...”

“No,” Antonio repeated. “No, no, no, no, no...”

He shook his head rapidly, crouching in a protective stance over the glasses. Several family members had tried to wrestle them away from him already, but he threw tantrums so loud and fierce that they gave up very quickly. It didn't help that his jaguar friend hovered nearby, waiting to step in to defend him if needed. He was a different child now, moody and combative.

Deep down, Julieta didn't really care that he held on to the glasses. She suspected it made everyone else uncomfortable to see them, but if he got some sort of comfort out of them then he was welcome to them. It was more than anyone else was getting.

…..

One of the great advantages of being raised in a magical house was that it was hard to be shocked or surprised when anything strange happened. The things Mirabel was seeing might have driven a normal person to madness, but she was taking it rather well, all things considered.

The residents of this place she had found herself in changed shape constantly, morphing between insect and humanoid form on a whim. They came in all shapes and sizes, wearing the guise of butterflies and moths that she recognized; pale green luna moths, red spotted monarchs, delicate glasswings, vivid swallowtails, dark mourning cloaks, giant birdwings, black witches, thin plume moths, along with hundreds that she didn't know. They fluttered over every available surface, skimmed across the water, and hovered as near to her as they could get.

They were mercurial little creatures, whispering and singing to each other and to her, sometimes having little squabbles over who got to sit with her. She had perched herself on one of the little islands, propped up against what could have been a very tall tree, and it seemed like she was holding a strange little court. The creatures brought her food, fruit and edible flowers, and even curved leaves full of nectar.

Mirabel couldn't say for certain how long she had been there; there was no sun or moon, or any indication of whether it was day or night. The only source of light came from the creatures themselves, who glowed faintly like tiny votive candles, and something far above them that passed by every now and then, like a golden cloud. For the first few hours (minutes? days?) she did very little but tear a few strips from her dress to wrap around her gunshot wounds and try to figure out what to do through a haze of confusion and probable blood loss. She drifted off to sleep on the island sometimes, the creatures covering her like a living blanket.

Strangely, she felt at home in this place. Being able to see everything clearly without her glasses was incredible, and she found if she waded through the water she felt less pain from her wounds. She felt no hunger or thirst, although she ate and drank everything the creatures brought to her (and was amused by watching three or four of them struggle under the weight of a single piece of fruit) and the air was neither too cold or too warm. The creatures tried to emulate her in their shifting forms, manifesting curls and wrapping flower petals around themselves like dresses.

When they spoke or sang, it was a mix of intelligible words and sounds along with clicks, whistles and rustling. Mirabel could recognize a word here or there, but mostly she just heard pleasant gibberish. They demanded that she sing to them in their fashion, and she obliged with a few songs she loved as a child. They were enraptured when she sang to them, and they echoed her for a long time afterwards, the sound trickling off into the distance.

Eventually, when she felt stronger, she realized she would have to find a way out of this place and back to her worried family. She addressed the creature that seemed to have the most sway over the others, a green birdwing that was wearing a pata de vaca as a skirt.

“Do you know the way I can get back home, by any chance?” she asked.

The birdwing blinked with its compound eyes, screwed up its little mouth and rubbed its chin. It consulted some of its brethren nearby with a series of clicks and whirrs. Then it grinned at her, fluttered into the air and gestured for her to follow.

Even with the pain dulled by wading through the water, walking was difficult on her bad leg. It had gone numb from the upper thigh down, so she asked the creatures if they could fetch her a cane to lean on. Moments later, thirty or so came crashing down from the expanse above them, trying to carry a long straight tree branch.

They floated alongside her, the birdwing leading them through the islands, singing a little marching rondo. How they could even tell where they were going was a mystery to Mirabel; there was no clear path, the water was still and as far as she could see there was nothing in the distance but more tiny islands. Still, they seemed confident of where they were leading her. A few of them carried little twigs as crutches in an imitation of her that might have been cruel if they had any sense of malice.

She tired easily, and stopped to rest often. Rain fell in sheets from above a few times, during which the creatures gathered to make a dome as a shelter for her. The rain carried a strange scent with it, something sharp and sweet like lime juice or palm sugar. If it wasn't for her dead leg, Mirabel might have tried to climb one of the tree-like structures to get an idea of her surroundings.

She had just sat up on yet another island for a rest when a hush fell over the creatures, they stopped their singing and marching and settled across the other islands, whispering to each other. Their glowing wavered, flickered, grew in intensity. Mixed in with the gibberish, Mirabel caught a few words she knew, repeated over and over.

...she is coming...she is here...

The golden cloud that had been swooping over them hovered in place, and then slowly it descended on them, growing smaller but more defined as it floated down. A body was formed, all long multifaceted wings and spindly limbs, a shining carapace, two long feathery plumes glowing powdery gold. A female torso, unnaturally long. Huge black eyes that reflected no light but burned from the inside out. Beautiful and terrifying in equal measure.

Mirabel froze on the spot as this new being reached for her with its needle-tipped limbs, her heart hammering painfully in her chest. A living god, a thousand times more dangerous than El Verraco, the tall man and all their cronies. And yet...

know you...

The being caressed her face, gentle as a kiss, and it spoke to her. Though its voice was mystifying, sonorous and rich as a stringed instrument, she understood.

My child.

I have missed you so.

I have been waiting for you.

She knew this being's face. Somewhere deep in her subconscious, she remembered and loved it.

Loved her.

The being pressed her head to Mirabel's, a kiss from a creature that didn't have a mouth. Under her skin, running through her veins, spots of gold began to glimmer like stardust, just about visible. The other creatures glowed too, pulsating in harmony with her heartbeat.

Welcome home.

…..

Dolores snuck out to the Gúzman house as soon as she was sure that everyone else had gone to bed, if not to sleep. She was weary of the grief in the Casíta, every moment filled with the sounds of at least one person crying in private. She could have handled that, but Julieta's lack of tears disturbed her. It was like that part of her kindly aunt had died along with Mirabel.

Mariano welcomed her with a warm hug and a gentle kiss to her forehead, although he might have preferred more affection from his fiancé he was always considerate. She considered herself a very lucky girl.

“How is everyone holding up?” he asked tentatively, pushing a cup of coffee in front of her.

“Pretty terrible,” she sighed. “Antonio's like a demon right now, he won't let go of Mirabel's glasses...Mom's a wreck, Dad spends all day trying to keep her from flooding the house, Camilo hasn't said a word to anyone in days...”

She trailed off, rubbing her temples. Mariano squeezed her hand with a wry smile.

“Isabela's holed up in her room and you can't get past the cactus grove,” she continued. “Everyone else is just trying to get things back to normal, me included.”

“There's not really a 'normal' after something like this,” he told her.

“I know, but the community depends on us.”

“That's your abuela talking. The community will find a way to manage, they owe you all some space.”

“I guess,” she groaned.

“Well, I have some news. It's not exactly good news, but you might get some satisfaction out of it. El Verraco is missing. He's probably dead.”

Dolores did get a little spike of satisfaction from that, she even managed a flicker of a smile.

“How? Was in painful? Please tell me it was painful,” she asked.

“Nobody knows,” Mariano shrugged. “Supposedly he went into the forest when the fire was out, looking for...well, you know. He hasn't been seen since. Los Brutales is completely disbanded.”

It wouldn't bring Mirabel back, but it was something at least. Dolores hoped with all her heart that the man who ruined her family had died screaming.

…..

The time that passed in the being's presence was a blur. She held Mirabel like a child and carried her far above the water, sheltered her from the occasional rainfall under her wings and lay beside her when she slept. She could not heal the wounds but she took the pain away with a single breath. Mirabel hadn't felt so safe and loved since she was a small child.

This butterfly queen (a childish moniker, but the only thing that occurred to her) held court with her followers, they echoed her songs and chants and glowed in patterns alongside her. Mirabel had heard these songs before, long ago, she knew that now.

She should have been angry, she thought. Here was the probable reason she hadn't received a gift along with the rest of her family, the queen's magic had blocked the Madrigal magic somehow. But that magic had rescued her from certain death, she didn't even have the will to question it. She couldn't even be sure that a creature so far removed from humanity could give a straight answer even if she did ask questions.

Eventually, the queen had to leave. She held Mirabel close to her before she ascended, turning back into the swooping golden cloud. The temptation to stick around until she came back down was intense, but Mirabel continued on her way, guided by the smaller creatures.

After a time, they reached a light coming from a door-sized gap between two islands. Peering through it, Mirabel was gobsmacked to see the little goat path that lead to the Encanto, on the very outskirts of the river. Many of the creatures said, clicked or whistled their farewells then and fluttered away, but a handful of them, including the birdwing, hovered around, waiting. She hesitated at the line that marked the end of the dark expanse and the beginning of the goat path.

“If I go through here,” she asked the birdwing, “will I be able to come back?”

The thought of never being able to see this place and its inhabitants again was enough to bring her to tears, but she was delighted when the birdwing clicked and whirred and nodded. In its strange way, it managed to tell her that they all wanted her to come back, and soon.

When she did step over the precipice, she was hit by a wave of pain in her injured leg and the loss of her clear vision. Suddenly everything was a vaguely green haze, and although she was fairly sure of the way home it would be difficult to navigate without her glasses. The birdwing, now fully in the guise of a butterfly, fluttered just in front of her, beckoning her along the path.

Gripping the cane and dragging her bad leg behind her, she set out for home.

…..

Elena had a job now, since she had turned nine years old and was deemed responsible enough to handle a task like finding wild growing fruit and reporting it back, but she was slacking off. She wanted to go see the fish in the river; her brother had told her he saw El Mohán lurking in the shallows, but she was certain he had just seen a particularly large catfish. She wanted to double-check, just in case.

She never made it as far as the river. She was stopped in her tracks by what she thought might have been La Patasola, the one-legged woman dressed in white that her brother had also told her he saw once. She had a cane, Elena could only see one foot under her dress, and there were butterflies floating around her face. Elena took a step back; La Patasola might drink her blood if she got too close.

“Who is that?” the ghost called out. “Rosa? No...Elena, is that you?”

It was weird that La Patasola would sound just like Mirabel Madrigal. She even kind of looked like Mirabel, but without the glasses. It was also weird that she knew her name.

“Elena, I can't see anything. Is that you?” the ghost called again.

“It's me,” Elena agreed. “Are you a ghost?”

“What? No...I'm alive, sort of.”

Everyone said Mirabel was dead (they didn't tell her how she died, just that she had and the Madrigals were very sad about it and wouldn't come out of their magic house for a while) but she did look mostly alive.

“What happened to you?” she asked. “Everyone says you died. Did you see El Mohán? Did he bring you to his palace under the water?”

“Yep, he sure did,” Mirabel said. She sounded tired. “Listen, I can't walk much, my leg is all busted up, and I can't see. You think you can run up to the Casíta and tell them I'm back? You do that for me and I'll fix your monkey's leg for you.”

It was definitely Mirabel. She'd promised to fix Elena's toy monkey shortly before she went missing.

“Okay, I'll do it,” she agreed, hopping up and down, now excited at the prospect of being the one to cheer up the Madrigal family. “They're gonna be so happy, oh man...”

“Can you ask them to bring my glasses? I'm totally blind right now...”

“Yep!”

She ran back through the village as fast as her little legs could manage, not even stopping when her mother called after her for skipping work. Although it was a sunny day, the Casíta was covered by a cloud pouring rain in thick sheets. Elena pounded on the door.

Luisa was the one who opened the door, plastering on a fake smile for the child's sake.

“What is it, sweetie? Do you need....”

“Mirabel's back! I saw her down near the river!”

Luisa froze. A sharp set of footsteps approached and the door was flung open. The Madrigal matriarch scowled down at Elena.

“That is a very cruel joke to play,” she scolded. “I'll be having words with your mother...”

“It's true! It's true!” Elena insisted. “I thought she was a ghost because I was looking for El Mohán because my brother said he saw him in the river and I said he was lying and she was there and her leg is busted up and she wants you to bring her glasses to her because she's totally blind!”

A few more Madrigals had trickled downstairs and were staring out at Elena, silent, their expressions stuck somewhere between hopeful and upset. The rain pouring down on the house slowed to a light shower.

“She said she'd fix my monkey's leg,” Elena offered. “She was supposed to do it before she went away but she never did.”

Luisa stepped outside, picking up Elena and throwing her up onto her shoulder.

“I'll go see what's going on,” she told her family. “If she's lying...”

“I'm not lying,” Elena insisted, punctuated with a little kick to Luisa's burly shoulder.

Luisa closed her eyes, tightened her grip.

“I'll be back soon.”

When Luisa set out for the river, the rest of the village had already realized that something was going on and were lingering at their doors, talking quietly. Elena could feel the tension in Luisa's shoulders as she was bounced around by her, running so fast her teeth chattered. She was unceremoniously dumped on the ground when they reached the riverbank to find Mirabel propped up against a tree.

“I know those footsteps...Is that Luisa?” she called out.

Elena would have thought Luisa would be happy to see her sister. Instead of cheering or something, she just stood there staring with her hand over her mouth and tears dripping down her face. Go figure.

“Dios mío...” she heard her whisper. “Is it really you?”

“I think so,” Mirabel laughed weakly. “Did you bring my glasses?”

Luisa swept her sister up in her arms, stopping short of a bone-crushing hug when Mirabel yelped a little in pain. She pressed kisses into her hair and cried so hard that the tears ran in little rivulets down Mirabel's shoulder. It was such a sweet thing to see that Elena didn't even mind when they left her behind on the goat path, speeding away towards home.

….

Notes: The superstition that you shouldn't call a baby beautiful is an old myth from Irish culture, the story goes that the fair folk will take a particularly beautiful child for themselves and leave a changeling baby in its place. It was most likely a way of explaining away things like autism, developmental disorders and disabilities.

El Mohán is a water spirit from Colombian myth, he supposedly lives in an underwater palace, steals fishing supplies from fishermen and his appearance is a bad omen that fortells earthquakes, floods and plagues.

La Patasola is a spirit that lives in dense jungle, has only one leg and tempts men into the forest so she can drink their blood.

[goji-pilled]

Okay @princekirijo you want an essay? Well here it is now, or as I like to call it Felix's "Asumari is great and this fandom has no fucking taste" rambling and infodump. Congrats fellas, thanks to Prince you ALL get an asumari essay. But before that I'll try to give you a rundown of Mari and Asuka. 

(I'm also so sorry for putting this long ass post on everyone's dashboard)

(Spoiler warning for Evangelion 3.0+1.0 Thrice Upon a Time!!)

Alright on one hand we have Mari Illustrious Makinami. Her whole deal? She's a walking ray of sunshine, literally lol. Unlike any other character in the Evangelion franchise she doesn't suffer from her trauma, she's quite literally the only healthy and functioning human being, she's just slightly leaning towards "batshit crazy" with the stunts she pulls 🤷‍♂️. Other than that she just loves living, she loves being with people, she keeps moving forward, stays positive and decides to live life to it's fullest even after she experiences loss and multiple apocalyptic events (Second Impact, Third Impact, etc.) and she really just embodies the joy of living. That's all there is to her, or at least all we know.

On the other hand, we have Asuka Langley Shikinami who is... well it's hard to explain what she is to be honest. She's part-German and part-Japanese and part of a line of clones specifically made with the purpose to pilot an Evangelion and later on be used as a sacrifice to trigger another Impact (ITS COMPLICATED I KNOW-) Asuka is, unlike Mari, very much suffering from her trauma. She doesn't have her parents and has a very deep seated belief that she's completely alone, which she says doesn't matter as long as she can pilot the Eva. She also very much wants to fight and kill angels all by herself, and it's seriously messing with her when she can't achieve that.

Now we get to the more interesting parts (hopefully this so far wasn't too confusing, then again it's Eva and even I can't fully wrap my head around it all LMAO)

In the second Rebuild movie (Evangelion 2.0 You can (not) advance) we get introduced to both of them, Mari's introduction scene (in the original English dub) has her pilot an Eva and singing about how she'll take the world on by herself, while in the third movie's (Evangelion 3.0 You can (not) redo) opening scene she's piloting the Eva again but this time it's together with Asuka (in her own Unit 02 though) and during that Mari sings about how wonderful it is not to be alone. It's nothing big yet, but it's a really cute detail me thinks,,, you know what else I love about them? They bicker and they banter and it's genuinely so fun to listen to shskdhsuwj

(For a quick catch up: During the end of 2.0 Shinji (the protagonist) triggers another apocalyptic event, the Near Third Impact, and was only stopped due to Kaworu (the guy in my pfp) stepping in. Also between 1.0/2.0 and 3.0/3.0+1.0 are about 14 years (without Shinji bc he's like comatose) where A LOT happens AND we learn in 3.0 that Eva pilots don't age physically bc of "The curse of the Eva"... honestly Eva is wild lmao)

Okay okay I'll get back to it!

So one thing that happens is that Asuka during 2.0 develops a crush on Shinji (girl why-), unfortunately things take a turn for the worse. Asuka had volunteered to be the testpilot for a new Eva (Unit 03), she seemed happy at the time and it was a really sweet build up with the "I can smile, I didn't know I could still do that."-line. And then? Then it turns out the Ninth Angel had infected Unit 03 (Angels are basically the Kaijus they fight using Evas btw). The thing goes on a loose and Shinji is forced to fight it (With Asuka inside mind you), he refuses and his father uses an autopilot to destroy Unit 03. And boy did it destroy the angel, well it and it crushed Asuka between its jaws (you can actually hear her scream btw haha pain :)).

Asuka survived though, but the whole incident cost her her humanity and she ended up becoming an angel herself/she took the place of the Ninth. But despite that, there's one person who keeps believing in Asuka's humanity, who fiercely believes Asuka is still a human and tells her as much.

Yep, that one person is Mari and she keeps holding onto that belief until the very end when Asuka uses her last resort, which is using the power of an angel (Doing so was a guaranteed death sentence btw). Mari's own words (in the German dub) were, "Princess, you're giving up being human…" AND IT MAKES ME SO EMO GOD FUCK

While I'm at it, Mari and Asuka are a fucking killer combo as a team. They rely on each other for support in combat, listen to the other's orders and advice. Especially in Asuka's case it's kind of a big deal that she so openly relies and counts on Mari's support. Like these two trust each other with their damn lifes!!! Holy shit!!

Guess what though, they also have nicknames for eachother. Mari always calls Asuka "Princess" or "(Your) Highness" while Asuka calles Mari "Four-eyes" / "Four-eyed chrony (idk how you spell that tbh RIP" Even better though, in the German dub Asuka calls Mari "Brillerella" as in a combination of "Brille" (German for glasses) and "Cinderella",,,,Cinderella and her Prince,,,Brillerella and her Princess,,, man, that was a gay fucking move of the translation team. Spoiler: I owe them my life.

Funfact: There's exactly two times throughout the Rebuild movies where Mari uses Asuka's actual name. These two times being when she watches Asuka "die" and be used as a sacrifice for Gendo's selfish plan and when later on she begs Shinji, "So please the Princess… Asuka needs your help!" And the best part? That wasn't even the first time she did that. The mentioned line came from 3.0+1.0, but she did that too in 3.0 with the, "At least save the Princess!" line (although her tone was much more...pissed, like she was really angry lol)

Remember the crush Asuka had on Shinji? Well due to the Unit 03 incident a whole lot of other shit got mixed into that and her feelings for him in general became really bitter (understandably so). Now Mari being who she is sometimes teases Asuka about said old crush but she really does want Asuka to get closure and sort that mess out. 

As an example for the teasing, in 3.0 there's a scene that goes like this (please imagine Mari with a literal :3 face while saying that):

"Unit! Are you back in the game?"

"I'm on it, your Highness. But first things first, how was our little puppy (Shinji)? Did he sit like a good little boy?"

"He's exactly the same! Same stupid face talking mayhem!"

"That goofy face of his, that's what you wanted to see? Riiiiight?"

"Shut up! I went there to bat him one!... And I feel better!"

There's also a very short bonus manga that was released in Japan for Thrice Upon a Time's release that has Mari trying to convince Asuka to come with her on the mission to get Shinji, given everything that follows, it's just another thing to prove my point. And the final bit relating to that is this:

"Feeling better now?"

"Yeah, I do feel better."

That's the exchange Asuka and Mari have after they talked to Shinji, it's nothing special but I think it's really sweet and this time Asuka actually sounded like she was feeling better instead of when she was screaming after she nearly broke pretty thick glass with her fist (If she had hit someone with that much force she definitely would've broken something omggg #violentimpulsesgang)

To get back on track though: I already mentioned it but during the second half of 3.0+1.0 Asuka "dies" (and honestly that entire scene is worth its own in-depth post because its just one huge parallel to The End of Evangelion), the point is: You can tell that the loss of Asuka honestly hits Mari hard. Not only because of how Mari screams Asuka's name but also because of her expressions. They're pained, like really fucking pained and Mari even apologizes to her that she has to fall back due to the fact that she's injured AND because eveything is going wrong.

After the events of Evangelion 3.0 these two got seperated from eachother, Mari was with WILLE (the organization both of them are with) and on board of Wunder (the ship WILLE basically operates from) while Asuka was in a Village full of (Near) Third Impact Survivors. When they do meet again it went like this:

Asuka, barely back, comes to the door and calls, "I'm back." And within seconds of Asuka stepping into their room after the door opens Mari already runs towards her, arms wide open and she says, "Welcome back, your Highness! Good job. I missed you so much!" And she says that while she literally nuzzles into Asuka,,,like,,,what the fuck gay people real!!! 

Best part? Asuka clearly has enough strength to push Mari completely away if she were uncomfortable, but she doesn't. Asuka merely wanted enough space to look at the room (because Mari managed to horde even more books lol) and play her game. During their entire renunion Mari keeps hugging her, and part of me thinks that perhaps deep down Asuka actually enjoys the feeling of physical affection.

Before we get to the last point though, let me say that Asuka and Mari have scenes in 3.0+1.0 that parallel Shinji and Kaworu's from 3.0. (Fyi Kaworu loves Shinji (yeah, like that, and 3.0 was basically them being gay as fuck for an hour) so like...do I even need to explain? 

And then of course there's also this, the "Take care of yourself, Princess…" line. That is the last time Mari talks to Asuka and as much as that line alone already is so much, it's Mari's expression in particular that kills me. Because this? This soft, almost bittersweet expression she has, as she basically says goodbye? Because she knows Asuka will finally be happy and safe? It just makes me feel so much actually. Man.

In the end it's a fact that Mari loved Asuka, wether that is interpreted as platonic or romantic by someone is up to them. But it is a fact that Asuka was loved enough that someone wanted to hug her, was happy to see her, to praise her, was hurt by her loss, wanted her to be safe, that someone told her "Take care of yourself…" Asuka was really and honestly so loved that someone would tell her, "I missed you."

But Asuka? Asuka was too hurt, too wrapped up in her own head to actually see how loved she was by Mari (and other people) that she genuinely believed she's completely alone and always will be alone.

It makes the "Take care of yourself" line hit even harder to me, because it's not only Mari's goodbye, but it's a goodbye during the one time Asuka allowed herself to be vulnerable and admit what she really wanted.

And honestly? All of this? Its makes me feel so many things and I just love them  so much man.

[philograce]

Just right

Paring: modern! Eren x reader

Warnings: angsty, resolution in the end, shouldn’t cry:,)

Summary: You and Eren were simply friends but new emotions cause him to build walls around his heart until you finally break them down.

Notes:: I don’t really like this one but I never post anything angsty so:3 anyway if any of you 23 babes wanna submit something go ahead!! I don’t think I really have to set smthn up but lemme know if I do.

Words: 1.8k

Proofread: NOOO well KINDA

It was frustrating. Stupidly annoying and dumb how much Eren could make you feel guilty without every saying it out loud. How your dumb attractive roommate could leave you flustered yet so utterly angry. The past six months it had been this way, simple glares and small actions he would do leaving you confused, yet Eren had his subtle ways to remind you of the strong bond between you two.

When you first met him around 5 years ago, both freshmen meeting each other through your mutual friend Sasha and the two of you instantly connecting, and both of you finding out that you were both looking for a place to live. So, naturally it made sense after a couple months of getting to know each other, that you would move in with one another.

Easily melding together, situating both of your schedules finding out that they were perfectly aligned, Eren was even a good cooker and you great cleaner. It was the perfect solution for the both of you. The other positive was growing closer to him and he growing closer to you.

That's why it confused you with this sudden silent treatment you were receiving from Eren. For the past couple months he seemed off, always too busy to be hanging out with you, never really talking to you unless other friends were around. If it wasn't for the strong emotions you felt with him you would've let it slide, but there were those unspoken new emotions and underlying feelings.

They seemed to start randomly and suddenly, little moments with him leaving your cheeks flustered and your heart beating, the tension seemingly thick between you two leaving the room feeling stuffed and overcrowded. You felt yourself caring for Eren more than a friend would, growing to like his presence with you at all times, and missing him when he left.

It was all simple signs of a growing crush, a innocent yet powerful crush that seemed to prevail. That's why it obviously hurt when Eren seemed to take a sudden dislike towards you. But you were scared and your insecurities got the best of you whenever you tried to confront him about it. You just left it, left the flame between you two to slowly fizzle out. Before all this you used to think Eren might like you back, everything he did showed signs he might, but now your brain kept telling you that was just how he was as a friend.

Now sitting in the kitchen, eyes strained from how long you were staring at the screen, trying to write an essay but your mind was constantly filled with him. Then the door jiggled and he walked in, keys hitting the ceramic bowl as he threw them in, his feet shuffling fully inside, arms moving to take his jacket off. You kept your eyes trained on your screen, not daring to look at him afraid of the glare he might be giving you.

"You're still up? You should head to bed." His voice deepening as it resonated throughout the small kitchen, flickering a single gaze up to his figure you noticed how disheveled he looked. His long dark hair lazily slicked back, eyes drooped and blown out, knuckles drawn with purple bruises and dried blood. It pissed you off, the state he was in and the sudden "caring" words he sent your way left your blood boiling.

Eyebrows furrowing together, you quickly shut your laptop moving out of the kitchen and away from him, at least that's what you tried to do before a hand grabbed your wrist yanking you back. "Don't walk away from me." His commanded, a sort of desperation laced behind the seemingly angry words.

You turned back, staring him right into his eyes noticing the confusion laced within, it seemed that every pint up rage and light night cries flowed out of you. "Do you hate me?" You didn't want it to go this way or ask him that question even, part of you wishes you just kept your mouth shut, but the look of complete anger covering his face only fueled your desire to know the answer.

In reality it seems like a simple question between two close friends, one that would usually be answered with an equally simple statement. But, this was different the sudden collapsing of a bond had been destroyed by the both you, leaving you both alone and bitter. It was also different because Eren was frightened and so angry and all kinds of confused. But most of all, he felt so alone even with you a couple feet away from him.

Eren knew this familiar feeling settling in his bones, the kind where he knew no one really cared that he was always going to be some wicked monster, always hurting the ones he loved the most. But he never wanted to include you in that pile, the pain stricken look on you face sent waves of emotions crashing down into his heart. He hated how you made him feel so much, so used to the numbness that would often consume him.

When he first met you, the first thing he noticed about you was how expressive your eyes were. How they seemed to tell your whole story, but he wasn't expecting you to be able to read him so well either. Used to putting on a pretend face and laid back attitude for the strangers around him, but growing closer to you that wall he built up was broken slowly and slowly down by your gentle loving words and touches. He loved it as much as he hated it, something new and exciting was building up in him but as soon as he noticed his feelings growing more and more attached to you, he brought them down and tried to bury them deep inside. He couldn't hurt the one he grew to love so dearly.

So when the tears filled your lash line, Eren felt his whole crashing down around him, he never wanted to cause you pain. He was just scared and felt alone before, you were this breath of fresh air for him letting him see above the high walls he surrounded himself with.

"I don't hate you." There is no need to hold his words back, but a part of him hesitated not because he was denying his hate for you but it was the complete opposite of that.  There was a part of him that was scared of what you did to him, he wanted to protect and the only way he knew how was by blocking you out of his life.

He catches the flicker of sparks behind you eyes, he tries to figure out exactly what they were trying to say. Did you believe him? Do you hate him? He pleaded with you in his head to forgive him, forgive him for causing you pain and ignoring you for so so so long.

"Then why are you acting like it?" You sneer, trying to get some sort of reaction out of him, you used to be able to so easily read his face and emotions but right now all his eyes seemed tried and dull. You were so confused, why had he been acting like he hated your very presence but now refused to now tell you the real truth. You were angry, and just wanted to break down right then the tears already threating to spill. Pleading inside your head for him to truly not hate you, but how could he not?

"I'm sorry." His voice was nothing lower than a whisper, barely falling faint to your ears but it still sent aches to your heart. For the first time in months you saw a shimmer behind his beautiful green eyes, the same look he would get when he felt extremely guilty and would continuously apologize to you. The small flicker of emotion was what sent you finally over the edge.

Salty warm tears fell down your face, you tried to stop them embarrassed that you were this emotional, but a single gentle thumb came to brush them off your cheek. His warm fingers caressing your face gracefully as he stared down at you, his warm touch leaving goosebumps to spread across your body. His eyes laced with concern but most importantly a lingering fear, a fear that he hurt you but an even greater fear you hated him.

"I'm sorry.....m'sorry..... m'sorry.... I'm-", his tall figure slumped forward forehead crashing against your shoulder as he rambled out a repeated apology. You stood there, arms slumped to your side as your brain raked around trying to understand the situation.

But, when Eren's hands leave your face and carefully made there way down wrapping themselves around your waist pulling you in, you suddenly feel the wet patch growing on the shoulder Eren's face was nuzzled into.

He felt your gentle fingers cautiously wrap around his neck, pulling him closer into you, the both of you realizing how much you missed each other's touch. You wanted to comfort Eren, but with your own tears continuing to swell up, words wouldn't dare to come out of your throat.

Now that Eren had you in his arms again, he felt foolish and so embarrassed with how he acted the past six months, more tears falling out of his eyes while he desperately tried to keep you close to him like you might run off. You had broken through the barriers he set up thinking it was for his own protection, it scared him that you would see his true self, the true self that he hated and was afraid you might hate. You were just happy to finally have Eren back into your arms, the love you felt for him never fading only building as you two sobbed into each others arms.

So, standing in the dimly lit kitchen with arms wrapped around each other, both desperate to feel the other skin again, it seemed that Eren could finally stop pushing you away and let you in. It would take a long time. It would take a lot of work and tears, but the payoff would be so worth seeing the genuine happy smile you'd seen so few times on him before.

A long hard conversation awaited the two of you, but for right then all that mattered was that both of your silly fears were crushed, the hate you two thought the other felt was gone and replaced with the warm flow of physical touch. Even if it was never spoken, you both knew that you loved each other and that's all that mattered.

[everyhowlmarksthedead]

❛ YOU ONLY LIVE ONCE ❜

✨ REQUEST: hermanikiiiiiii i wanted to request you the prompt number 1 with coco cruz!!thank you, love you muchisisimoooooo💕💕

✨ PROMPTS: “Wait, you love me? Like Garfield loves Lasagna?”

✨ MADE BY: Juls.

Gif credit: to my lovely @supervalcsi.

WORDS: about 2k.

❚❙ A/N: this writing hasn’t been edited, you may find some grammar mistakes, I’m sorry about that. If you find a description about body or a word out of place or something that makes you feel uncomfortable / unrepresented, let me know by a private message and I will change it delighted ❤

❚❙ JOHNNY ‘COCO’ CRUZ MASTERLIST.

❚❙ MASTERLIST.

❚❙ JOIN MY TAG LIST.

When you heard that Coco had been shot, your heart suddenly stopped. It was four days ago in some kind of dog's fight, as Chuckie told you at the scrapyard. Bishop needed someone to take care of him while they were investigating what happened, so you offered yourself without doubting it.

Much to your regret, you are only two good friends, even if you feel more things that you can't explain, about which you haven't talked with anyone. And thanks to your work in the hospital, you managed a room only for him, so he could rest as much as he wanted, as much as he needed. But your back hurts like hell after being sleeping on the sofa, close to the bed, just to make sure that you were able to attend to all his necessities for minimal they were.

These days there, you have learned a lot about him, about his curiosities, about his fears; spending his time awake talking with you to keep his mind entertained, to not think about the pain in his lower abdomen. Your mates took the bullet in a jiffy, but, normally, the sorrow remains for a couple of weeks. Luckily, he only complained when the hour of the next turn of medicines was close.

You have tried to not think about your feelings the time you were in the hospital, but it was impossible. All you wanted to do was to lie by his side on the bed, embrace him between your arms and kiss him, having to conform yourself with holding his hand and resting your cheek on the mattress. Your eyes have never left his eyes, not even when he was sleeping, on alert in case of an unforeseen because of pain, or an infection, or God who knows. You were really paranoid.

“You ready?”

Coco glared at you, slightly tilting his head. You had asked the same question five times in the last two minutes. Offering him a hand to secure himself, the mexican put down from the hospital bed, ready to leave and go home. Angel and Gilly had cleaned his house, even if you insisted to Bishop that you could do it. But he asked you back to stay with him till the next morning, so he wouldn't stay the night alone until they came back from the other side of the border.

Two knocks in the opened door brought you back to reality from your own thoughts, in the meantime that you helped Coco to wear his leather kutte. Directing your tired eyes to the entrance of the room, you found three Vicki's girls, happily waving their hands. Raising an eyebrow confused and your lips pressed, they came in without asking.

“Papi, we've missed you”. The latin and playful tone of voice from Mariela, as she swung her hips to your friend, gave you shivers.

In just one sight, your presence was pushed to the background. These girls hadn't even called to ask about his state of health and, now, they were there as if they did all the work you did —delighted, of course. Trying to keep calm, you put Coco's clothes into his bag, zipping it when everything is ready.

“No te preocupes, we take care of him now”. Carolina sentenced with contempt and superiority, grabbing his stuff ready to abandon the hospital.

“Yeah, mami. Go home and rest”. His words hurt. More than a bullet.

Preferring their company besides yours let you know that he hadn't taken in count what you did. And yes, you did it because you wanted, but you also thought that maybe could mean a step ahead. But it wasn't. Not saying a word, doing anything but a simple nod with your chin, you grabbed your bag to step out from there. Ashamed. Feeling stupid.

Two weeks have passed and Coco has come back to the clubhouse. This time you have been doing extra shifts to compensate for your lost days taking care of him, almost walking like a zombie from home to work, and from work to home. So, when Bishop invites you to a party in his honor, you decline it. You are too tired physically to assist and tired mentally for foolishness. What is the point of going to a party to see Coco having fun with those bitches? You have had enough after two weeks without receiving a single text to thank you or to know how you are. He hasn't even cared about the fact that you haven't shown up in the club for two weeks. That's the little he thinks in your friendship.

Zapping from one channel to another, you try to find something to watch. A movie, a tv show, whatever that helps to distract your mind, while you enjoy thai noodles with beef. Finally finding an action movie, you cover yourself with a cozy blanket, grabbing the cardboard box to start your dinner. The ringtone of your phone interrupts your calm, with Coco's name on the screen. At first, you don't want to answer, but he continues insisting for more than three long minutes. Hanging up and calling again. With a furious growl installed in your throat, you leave over the table your dinner to grab your phone.

“The fuck means you aren' comen'?”

He doesn't even let you say hi or how are you.

“It means that I'm tired and I have to work at five”.

“I don' think one damn beer reverses your sleeping schedule, Yo' Grace”.

“Fuck you, Jonathan. I've been working double shifts to cover the hours I was taking care of you in th—”.

“Nobody asked you to do it”.

Eyes widened and your heart racing. You can't believe he just said that.

“Yeah, nobody did. But your hermanos preferred to be on the other side of the border. Your putas preferred to be partying and sucking dicks in Vicki's. And your mamá sent me pal' carajo when I called to tell her what happened. I did it because I was your friend. Because I cared about you. Because seeing you there with… all those tubes was killing me. That shit continues giving me nightmares every fucking night. But you shit on that. You kicked me as soon as your putas came to the hospital”. You don't know when you have started to cry, more than because of the rage than because of the sadness. “I'm sorry if I'm too tired to drink a fucking beer, but my job is more important than a person who doesn't give a shit about me, who hasn't called or text me in two weeks, who only wants my company when no one else is around. Have fun in your damn party and fuck all those whores to thank them for picking you up from the hospital, but didn't care about how you were after being shot”.

Hanging up, you toss the phone somewhere on the table, wrapping your body with the blanket and lying down on the sofa. Trying to contain the tears, the only thing you earn is to cry bitterness. You can't understand why he only has noticed your absence at the party. What has changed? Probably it was his egocentrism working, wanting to be surrounded by a lot of people, not caring if they're his friends or not. But you're done being his lapdog.

About to fall asleep, the angry hits in the main door make you suddenly wake up agitated.

“Open up!”

The rage is consuming you again after hearing the strong mexican accent, taking three long strides towards it to receive him with your reddened crystal eyes.

“What the fuck 'you want now? Haven't you had enough beating myself up?”

“You're fuckin' dramatic”. He spits in your face, stopping with a foot the slam to his about to close the door again. “I didn't talk to you because you were working, bu' you didn't talk to me either”.

“Yeah, because you were served with your bitches. Go fuck yourself, Jonathan”.

“Don' call me like that again”. Coco grunts taking a step into your house. “You had to work, they came to cover your back”.

“Oh, please, don't make me laugh. They just wanted to have the credits of taking care of you, so you will expend more money with them. That's the only thing they care about you. Wake up from your world of fantasy, Coco. If you weren't part of the MC, you wouldn't be a shit for them; just another fucking soldier with a broken home”. You can't help but push his chest with both hands, driven by anger.

At first, he doesn't say anything. He looks thoughtful, being aware of the truth in your words. And it hurts that you have to be the one to open his eyes. The problem is that you weren't thinking while talking, pulling your gaze away from him and pressing your trembling lips, one against the other.

“I'm sorry”. You babble, cleaning your tears with the back of your left hand. “I didn't mea—”.

“But you said so”. Coco interrupts you with a husky tone of voice, bristling every inch of skin of your anatomy. “That's wha' I am without my kutte. An ex-soldier, a criminal, an outlaw. I spend my money on them because they take care of me, one way or another”.

“I did it too”.

“So, what? What you want? Money? Tell me an amount”.

Squinting at him, you can't help but chuckle with a painful and bitter laugh.

“I did it because I love you, not because I want your money”. You confess, knowing there's no going back. “I don't care about your money, nor your job, nor about your kutte. I love you because you make me happy. After all, for me, there's nothing better than a hug of yours, because you… you are simply amazing. You're intelligent, funny, loyal. And I wish that you could see yourself through my eyes, Coco”.

He, not saying anything, is killing you slowly. Barely breathing, you cross your arms over your chest to hide the fact that your lungs aren't receiving any air.

“I thought that after being shot, you realized you only live once. And that… after being those… boring days with me, you realized that you preferred the company of these other girls. The funny part of being alive. So I just pulled myself away”. Taking a small pause, you bow down your head, cleaning your tears again. “These weeks have been torture. I've written you a lot of texts that I haven't sent… and I've been a lot of times about to call you. But 'you know that… feeling when you think... the other person is not gonna answer you, because maybe is too busy for you? That shit has been destroying me”.

Hoping that Coco finally is going to speak, he remains silent. Looking at you openmouthed, processing all the information you have just give him.

“Can you, ple—please, say something?” You beg almost shaking.

“Wait, you… love me? Like… Garfield loves lasagna?”

Raising your eyes, pouting at him, you know that he's trying to make you laugh after understanding all the pain you have been through. Lonely. Without talking about it with anyone.

“I'm sorry, mami… I just… fuck”.

Cupping your cheeks onto his hands, Coco slams his lips on yours, tasting the salty tears you have shed because of him. The sloppy kisses bring some more air to your lungs, calming your racing pulse and making you feel less unhappy. As your fingers get intertwined in his shirt, crinkling under your grip, he urges you to walk backward so he can close the main door with a kick.

“God knows I'm so fuckin' sorry… Please, forgive me”. Coco's whispers brush your lips, keeping his eyes closed just like yours. “I'm gonna take care of you now, okay?”.

Nodding in silence, you place your arms around his middle back, hiding your face into his chest. His strong scent brings you back to life, while his arms wrap you tightly to comfort all the pain he has provoked you without knowing it.

“I just want you, ma'. No one else. Just you”.