#Writing: Lean on Me

[canis-or-cannotis-lycaon]

TIMING: About four days after ‘Pulled from the Edge’ LOCATION: Gael’s House PARTIES: Ren [@ironheartedfae] and Gael [@lithium-argon-wo-l-f] WARNINGS: Child Abuse/neglect (past) 

SUMMARY: After a week of resting up at Gael’s house, Ren has a crucial decision she needs to make

Had it been four days or five? Gael wanted to say he lost track since the altercation with the mutated turtle Ren insisted was called a ‘Vodnik’ but it was difficult for him to lose track of time unless it was ripped from him during one of his sleepwalking ventures. It had been four days. The rain, while still persisting, had lightened up but that meant that regardless of how long she wanted to stay, he had come to an agreement with the girl who took up residence in his spare room until it was gone at least. He occupied his kitchen now, having texted her when he was out and about picking up some groceries - Gael didn’t know what she meant by ‘creamy with potatoes but not chunky’ but after doing a little bit of research he figured she was talking about… cream of potato soup. Somehow he didn’t think she would object even if it wasn’t the right dish but he couldn’t say he wasn’t about to try to make it for her. “I’m home!” He called through the house, leaving his shoes in the entryway next to the wall behind the door as he carried his couple bags of groceries in. The past week had seen him being more domestic than he had been in a while between gently tending to her if she needed it (though she was very independent) and Elias coming and going with his job and other activities, but he realized that he didn’t really mind it - he still had his own job and things to do, he just came to the conclusion that he didn’t like living alone. He felt… vulnerable when he was alone. Loosely speaking of, as he set the bags down and put the cold items in the fridge, he tilted his head as he heard a rhythmic pattern coming from the spare room - he was used to Ren not greeting him even if he announced his arrival and departure but he could hear something unusual this time. Licking his lips and looking at the wall as though he could see through it for a moment, Gael left the rest of the groceries where they were and he made his way around until he stood in front of her closed door where he knocked thrice gently. “Ren?” He called through the door gently. “Are you alright?” He asked, wondering if it was something he said in their messages to each other - she had abruptly stopped responding and he hoped he hadn’t said the wrong thing.

____________ Panicky pacing back and forth did not actually seem to help with the situation brewing inside Ren’s mind. The tidal shift of a pleasant conversation to one that sent the young fae into a tizzy about being fae (again) was making more than just waves. The nymph had been too wrapped up in her own thoughts to realize that she’d been verbalizing some of them aloud. In a way that was fine to do when she lived on her own, far removed from other people who might see or hear. She kept reading and re-reading the conversations. Trying to parse through what was right, what was dismissable, and what that meant she should do now. 

Did he know? Should she tell him if he didn’t? More and more queries swirled into the storm, a rising tempest of endless questions that spiraled and fractaled out into more and more uncertainty. Distrust in herself, in all the things she was taught growing up, and how little they seemed to fit into the real world. One thing was persistent, above all else. Darya had never accounted for the kindness of strangers. Never thought or maybe realized that those who were not wardens would just see Ren as a young human girl. It felt like lying. Is a lie of omission still big enough of a lie that it counted? Whether it was binding fae magic, or just the after effects of panic, Ren was feeling sick to her stomach.

A voice called out. Not just any, Gael’s. The source of both so much comfort and on the equal and opposite side, stress. Not directly anything that he did, just… Potential energy. Right now (if Ren were any type of physicist) she’d say felt like she was sitting at the apex. The highest part of the parabolic swing. A dizzying view of every possible horizon. Hazily laid out before her through a deep fog of context she just did not have. She trusted Gael. It’d only been a few days, weeks verging on months if you counted his online council as well. But there was something to it. 

Are you alright? 

Simple enough question. Simple enough answer. Ren didn’t know where to stand, mentally or physically. Feeling at odds with herself in any position she found herself stepping to. So she retreated to the bed. Buried her face in her hands, and her hands in her knees, only then answering with a ragged; “No.”  ____________

The chemist remained silent, lowering his head as one of his ears faced the door in anticipation for the response. In the few short days Ren had spent at his house, he felt as though he had learned a few crucial things about her, even if they were from his own interpretation and experiences in life so he wasn’t surprised when she answered with an honest and simple ‘no’. It was obvious when Gael thought about it - even if she wasn’t just pacing, he could hear her muttering to herself, possibly either engaging in a hypothetical, using herself as a soundboard or a mantra she used as a coping mechanism. “Okay,” He said just as gently and he turned to look at the door this time, dancing over its features as he mind wondered which scenario this was. “May I come in?” Gael asked slowly. “Or would you rather have some space?” There were too many variables in his mind and while he didn’t know what was going on, he was also unwilling to make the wrong call based on what little information he had. He also wasn’t even sure if he should be asking but having grown up with four sisters, he certainly knew better than to open a door on an unexpected female. He could figure out where to go from there but as of right now, he still patiently waited on the other side of the door, her muffled response sticking onto his mind.

____________ Shivers sang sweet siren songs of silence beneath her skin. Beckoning the nymph to remain in comfortable distance, to ignore the stirring in her heart and not admit her sins. Because that’s what she believed it to be. Ren was born fae. Born wrong. Born evil. There was no baptism of light or healing that could stop that. She’d been raised as a shield and a sword, but now she was being grafted into a position of personhood. Being asked to think of herself as more than just her mission. It was a fine, fine line to tread. One she was not so sure she wouldn’t fall from. 

Accept help, betray her mother. 

Deny it, lose whatever this was. 

A group of friends, marked and bound by death, fire, and an oath that Ren had escaped from sharing. A detective who’d seen past the girl’s inability to take anything on principal and gave her a job to earn food and respite. So many people online and around town who’d offered a helping hand, a bit of advice, jokes and information she’d never even hoped to learn before. 

A man who, without asking or wanting anything in return. Tended wounds, made food, gave her shelter, clothes, and a bed. A real fucking proper comfy cozy bed. Said she could stay as long as she liked. 

He wanted to know what was wrong, and she did not want to lie. Ren felt sick at the thought alone. Her heart heaved with the heaviness of it all. It was a marathon to lift her head to the back of the door. To the strange scratches and where she couldn’t see beyond it, Gael. 

“You can… come in. There is… talk we must have. Before you… make dumb decisions without knowing full consequences.”  ____________ More pause lent itself to the breath Gael hadn’t realize he was holding until she gave him a response through the wood. Granted, the ‘yes’ was followed by a vague utterance that he wasn’t sure what to make of but that wasn’t on the forefront of his mind. “Okay, I’m coming in,” He announced as he slowly, gently opened the door to see her curled into herself on the bed, her freckled face regarding him as he crossed the threshold. She was upset, that much was clear but Gael wanted to figure out why. And if she wanted to talk, regardless of whether or not it was to keep him from ‘making dumb decisions without knowing the consequences’, then he was more than willing to talk though part of his mind started racing - did she get some idea that he was keeping her with an ulterior motive? Did someone else tell her about his brain injury, about the sleepwalking? “Talk to me, little fern,” He closed the door though it didn’t latch, letting her know that while they had privacy he wasn’t creating an obstacle to make it more difficult for her to disengage. “What’s going on?” He opted to sit on the bed near her, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees as he kept his dark gaze on her young face, the face that he’d seen gripped by animal instinct, the face that expressed curiosity and confusion, the face that he’d seen smile and heard laugh. 

____________ Once again her skittishness, her inability to interact with things in a normal way was only greeted with compassion. And god, didn’t that make it so much worse? Ren screwed her eyes shut. Knowing the next part was going to be too much for her to see. Was there a limit to his kindness? To the way he ‘liked to view things from other perspectives’ or however he’d phrased it? Her throat was tight. Dry. She’d barely said anything and she wanted to stop already. 

The bed bent with the new weight, not by much, but enough to tilt her small frame slightly toward him. Enough that her shoulder brushed against his and added another thing she felt bad about how nice it was. To have someone nearby. Someone who cared. Probably too much. 

“There are–” A start. Hoarse. Ragged. “Things you do not know about me. I am not–” Not human, not good. “I am not who you think I am, not what you think I am.” Did she even know what that might be? Ren swallowed again, but it did nothing for the lump still sitting heavy at the base of her neck. The way Emilio reacted was different. He was different, he was a hunter. He knew about the supernatural world, and Gael was still calling the vodnik a mutated turtle. Made it all the more difficult to discern where this all could land. 

There was a voice in her head shouting that he should be disgusted, and another quieter one that knew it would break her if he was scared. But she couldn’t just… not. Ren knew that she couldn’t keep accepting warm rooms and freshly made food if it meant keeping something this big from him. Not if she was going to freak out every time something brought it up. It was better to rip off the bandaid. Sear the wound tight. At least she’d know where she could stand. 

____________ Her skin touched his and while her body temperature was still lower than what he was expecting, it was certainly better than the first day he brought her in from the situation outside in the rain. She was so light. Gael looked at her with earnesty, managing to soften his expression as much as he possibly could as whatever was burning her mind obviously had trouble getting to her mouth. When she did though, mentioning that she was neither what nor who he thought she was, his brow furrowed ever-so-slightly. He admitted that he didn’t understand what this meant - was she going by an alias? Had she taken someone else’s name that she assumed for herself?  …Was she actually a 40-year-old man with a condition that made her look like a young girl? That last one was obtuse but not… entirely outside the realm of reality, as unlikely as it was. However, as Gael asked himself these questions, rhetorical what-ifs, a new question formed inside and it wanted to stop all the other inquiries. What did it matter? It was a big enough deal to Ren to work her nerves up but honestly, it didn’t sit right for Gael to suddenly change everything he knew about her, everything he learned and adapted about himself for his temporary guest because of some information or a liar revealed. He had enough of an idea to know that she had killed before, though he couldn’t be sure if they were animals or people. HE’D killed animals… so she wasn’t the only one hiding a facet of who she was. How could he be such a hypocrite? Gael opened his mouth to say something but he was having trouble coming up with something sufficient enough, something to assuage the turmoil she might’ve been experiencing. “I can’t… pretend to understand what you’re thinking right now,” He said slowly, making sure his voice was calm and even. “But I’d like to help if I can.” He blinked and turned to look at her. “I’m not here to judge you or throw you out.” He rubbed his hands together, leaning slightly to give her a very light nudge. “I promise.”

____________ With substantial effort, Ren had almost brought her breathing to a steady tempo. There was even a moment of warmth and light as he nudged up against her. Right up until those words came out. If she were more like her kin, she could have twisted those words to make him keep her around. Force him into something he might not choose himself and that terrified her. 

The nymph loosed a bark of air that almost sounded like a desperate laugh. Tears began to prickle at her eyes and her cheeks turned red. “No. No-no-no, you cannot promise this. Please. There are things about this world you do not understand.” She was sinking further into herself. Probably making a mess of how coherent and audible her words were. Which was not great considering the potentially earth shattering news she had to break.  

“That creature was not a turtle because it was a thing called a fae. It is magic. I am–” There was a long, long pause before she next spoke up. “I am not human, Gael.” Confession out in the air, she dug her head down further between her knees. A stone to weather whatever would come next. Against everything, she found herself wishing his reaction would be negative. It’d be so much easier to navigate. She could leave. Escape. Never let him see her face again. 

And it hurt. These last few months had been the best she’d ever lived. This last week had some of the most comfort she’d ever allowed herself to enjoy. Ren didn’t know how to give that up. But she would. In a heartbeat, she would. More than anything else in the entire world, she did not want to hurt good people. People like Gael didn’t deserve to have monsters like her in their life. Problems waiting to happen. She’d wrestled enough with it when Emilio had so firmly set his opinion down. But she still couldn’t escape the idea that the fae inherently were bad. Something to be exterminated. And that meant her too.  ____________

Right as he thought he had more of this figured out, Gael found himself wishing he could go back to a few moments before, when he hadn’t said those words - ‘thank you’ and ‘promise’ were off the table. He didn’t– He didn’t understand. And evidently Gael didn’t know how true this was as he saw Ren’s emotions breaking the surface and the words that she said didn’t quite register with him at first. She had him until she mentioned magic, something called ‘fae’ (even though he heard Beau making comments about that before, as well) and that she wasn’t human. Not human, what did that mean? What was she talking about? He managed to keep the confusion off his face but he couldn’t keep his thoughts from starting to swirl around in his head. Alan had spoken about something like this, too. Beau, Alan, Emilio had mentioned things not as they seemed, Regan. Monty, Ariadne, even Ren’s lowered body temperatures… Maybe his face wasn’t as well-hidden as he thought as he thought more about everything that piled up with this supposed revelation that Ren wasn’t human. Gael blinked and swallowed a knot that had formed in his throat without him even being aware. He could rationalize this. She was… delusional. HE was delusional. But also… even if she didn’t accept his promise, he told her that he wasn’t going to judge or cast her out despite the doubts that suddenly pulsed through him about her, everyone else that he’d met that seemed abnormal… himself. And for a moment, his mind switched the two of them. Gael WAS human but he had this… condition and for that same moment, he pretended that he was telling someone else who had no idea that this was part of him what he did. That he killed animals in his sleep, that he stripped down and wandered around who knew where, that every once in a while with zero explanation or ability to change it, something ruptured from within him and made him do things. His gaze flickered to the deep gashes on the back of the door. How terrified he would be of the rejection, the experience so strong that he HADN’T told anyone about it. His was just a brain injury, a neurological rewiring that had him say and do things that he didn’t mean to. And maybe… maybe the things Ren was saying were similar. Gael exhaled and looked to Ren for a moment, softly, his brow knitted in empathy, and he reached up to wipe one of the tears from her face gently. “It’ll be okay.” He offered quietly, not sure how true that was but for the purposes of right now, with the two of them on the bed and neither of them quite sure how to traverse this sea that they found themselves in, he gave her his word. “Magic or no magic, I said I wasn’t here to judge you.” He followed up. “Human, not human… The rain will stop eventually but you can stay as long as you want.” ____________

Waves of heightened emotion crashed around her. As the only thing worse than rejection settled in, Gael did what he always had done. He was kind. A gentle thumb found her cheek, stopped the silent stream of tears and wiped them away as she flinched. God she wished she hadn’t. Gael didn’t deserve that. Didn’t need a problem like Ren in his life. He didn’t understand, not really. He was still saying it was okay. Still saying she could stay, for who knows how long. If he really meant it, if he really would be alright with it, she’d stay forever. She knew that. But it wasn’t that easy. 

If this had been an easier world, this conversation wouldn’t even be happening. Ren would be able to grapple with the fact that despite the image of her mother in her head, despite the fact that she so desperately wanted to believe that Darya had been a hero, she might not have been. Or she was, and that was worse. If she had the capability of compassion and care like Gael did, but she chose not to give it to Ren anyway. Because of who she was, because of who Ren was. Wardens couldn’t care for fae. 

So why did she take her in? 

Would Ren really have turned out to be a monster if someone like Gael had been there from the start? Someone who could teach her the right things to say, the right way to feel. Or at least someone who had even half a chart on navigating all these foreign emotions that came on so quickly, so intensely. A blade didn’t need to feel. Didn’t need to think. Didn’t need to question anything and everything the way Ren wanted to now. The way that each new unanswered query stretched out in front of her like a million fractals, each splitting off into more and more. All of them doubling down and forcing her to interrogate every bit of information she’d been fed her whole life. 

“You do not get it.” The words were unintentional. But they came out anyway. In the same way Ren’s mind refused to let Emilio in, let him just be okay with her as she was, she was doing it now too. Defensive. Anger was easier because it meant she didn’t have to sit in the chaos of the unknown. The unsorted. Her past was too messy for the future to hold anything good. She was not good. Gael had to see. Had to know. 

In her mind, there was only one way to do that. Something she hadn’t done on purpose pretty much ever in her life. Slip away the glamour, the fake facade that made her appear as something other than the monstrous thing she truly was. A horrible little bug, a pest. Skin shimmered away, replaced with a smooth green carapace, dotted with red splotches that almost resembled the freckles on her ‘human’ cheeks. Horns, antennae, segmented body parts and wings. Somehow even smaller than the form she paraded around in. Especially all curled up like this. 

“This. This is what I am. And it is not a good thing. This is why it is dangerous to say Thank You, to say that you promise to do something. When I say I am not human, I– I am a monster.” The last and only other person to see this shape had said so, but in a much kinder affectation than Ren used. To Nora, it meant companionship in their shared oddness. To Ren it meant she’d never be something worthy of trust. 

____________ She flinched, which Gael sort of expected though he kept his hand up for a moment before lowering it. The two were silent for a long moment before she said the simple phrase. ‘You do not get it’. His expression faltered slightly and he wondered what she would do if he told her that they might’ve been more similar than she thought. And then… Ren’s visage started to shift, shimmering, altering as though she were covered in glitter again. Gael subconsciously scooted away as the human he sat next to was slowly and effortlessly replaced by… what he could only describe incredulously as an insectoid with horns, wings, antennae. No longer was he sitting next to Ren the human, he now found himself beside a small… he didn’t even know what to call her. At first, Gael thought he must’ve been losing his mind though he couldn’t possibly explain what had happened, what was going on to betray his vision and a small, primal part of him wanted to escape, leap off the bed and out of the room so fast even he wouldn’t be able to process what was going through his mind. And yet… She spoke to him somehow, in some way, through her inhuman mandibles, and without thinking he snapped his eyes shut - his vision wasn’t reliable, he needed to hear her. Hear how she sounded regardless of manipulating him or what had happened to make him lose his mind. She sounded… “It’s still Ren.” Gael breathed. And he took another breath. Eyes still closed, he lifted his head and took another breath. Leaned into where Ren was sitting. Grass, earth… smoke. The scent on the sheets, in the room. Ren’s voice. “You’re still… Ren.” With his head turned to face her, he opened his eyes again and they rested on the small, insect-like form on the bed. “I… don’t get it.” He repeated her earlier sentiment. “But I also can’t… accept that you’re a monster.” He sighed.

____________ Well what the hell was she supposed to do now? Ren had laid out all her cards, played the final ace and– There was some fear. Perhaps it was just hesitation. So brief the young fae had not properly been able to catch, so brief compared to how it should have been, how it– No. No he wasn’t like that. Ren was starting to see the patterns. While sticking to everything she knew might have been the more comfortable path internally, even her stubborn mind could see that Gael was just… just too good of a person to reject her just like that. When a world altering revelation had been dropped in his lap he just… adapted. Took a few seconds to stop and think, then continued on the gentle path he was coaxing Ren ever closer to. 

The few moments where he had closed his eyes were easier, now he was just… staring. Not the intense way that Ren tended to adopt. No, it was soft. Confused maybe, but earnest. She didn’t know what to do with that. Nora had seen her, and said she was cool for being a monster. Gael was seeing her, and was confirming that she was still a person. Still Ren. The nymph’s shaking body was just about anything but still though. It was like the thoughts inside had physical weight, each pushing and prodding and wanting to be the first to break out. All of it together nearly short circuited the already overloaded mind. What was once a confident attempt to scare him off in some childish way, turned quickly to a horrid shame. 

The glamour returned. Just as quick as it had gone. Zipping up tight and locking away the parts of herself that she hated. Ren’s head turned too, looking away. Staring at the frayed edges of the rug, of where they met the hardwood flooring. Where she could trace the lines in the woodgrain and not think for just a split second of reprieve. 

“This is because you do not truly know.” Distant and choked up, all her teachings came bubbling to the surface and spewed out of her mouth. “Fae are terrible manipulative creatures. They kill humans for fun. They take your words and use them against you. If you say thank you to one they will bind you to servitude. If you say you promise to do something they can make you do it literally and forever. Fae are monsters.” 

____________ As effortlessly as it had appeared to his unreliable eyes, she had glittered back to her small, light, human form. He didn’t take his eyes off her as she did, instead trying to scrape his brain, to figure out how she had and what she did to get that effect; she wasn’t wearing a watch that projected holograms, she smelled and sounded the same in both forms, it didn’t look… uncomfortable. Well– Gael wondered if he said something wrong again, if he was just being foolish and trying to muscle past something that was intrinsically wrong. She avoided his gaze this time, looking at the ground and if he followed the path himself he could see a different set of scratches, the ever-present reminder of something inside him that he pushed down and hid, though he didn’t need to… fool anyone into accepting it. “But…” Gael swallowed again as his brow furrowed and he thought on everything she said. Monsters, manipulative like how she tricked him into seeing a different version of her even if everything else was the same down to the withdrawn behavior, word games. “But you haven’t done that.” He remarked slowly, lowering his head and though he didn’t search for her eyes again, he did scoot towards her, returning to where he was. He leaned forward once more - it was literally impossible for him to wrap his brain around everything that he saw so he was relegating himself to clawing at the parts that he could, about Ren’s tearful insistence that she was a monster. “You told me about the pitfalls,” He continued. “You helped my neighborhood. You’ve taken great care to make sure I haven’t… that you haven’t used any of my words against me.” He placed his hands together once more as his elbows returned to his knees. “So even if you are a fae, I can’t very well judge you as a monster like the ones you describe.” He licked his lower lip with a small nod. “So… not all fae are monsters.” Gael did look at her this time. “You’re Ren. You hate being told thank you because it means they owe you something and you don’t want that to happen. You like salami and cream of potato soup. You fought a vodnik and almost died just because it was the right thing to do and your laugh that day made me forget that it was raining outside. You can look like a human or an insect and you might be a fae but that’s not who you are because you’re Ren.”

____________ Each and every person who chipped away at the massive wall surrounding Ren’s heart had their own methods. Some worked really well, others not so much. Each made an impact though. Carved at the layers and layers of self hatred, of time spent digging herself deeper into an isolation so thorough that even on a good day Ren barely recognized herself outside of what she was ‘supposed to do’. 

Somehow though, he did. Gael saw the bits that surfaced. Saw her and not what she was. Ren’s brows knit together, slowly slowly turning to face him as he went on. All the things he’d noticed. All the things he kept. Parts of her she didn’t show anyone. Parts of her that her ‘mother’ never recognized. Even with years under her belt she’d never come close to this level of understanding. With a millennia of practice she might never be able to have this amount of compassion. 

“And that’s okay?” Tearful, barely audible. A second confirmation of things others in town had tried to impart. Her breath shuddered and slowed the hyperventilation she’d just come down from. Big green eyes looked into his, and for maybe the first time in her life, she felt like she was home.  ____________

He breathed evenly though he knew his body wanted to react to everything that had transpired in that bedroom. He breathed evenly because he knew just enough about psychology to know that someone else breathing in close proximity helped others. He didn’t know anything about fae psychology but she clearly experienced emotion like a human, ate like a human and feared like a human so how different was she really? In, out. In, out. Her eyes found Gael’s this time, sparkling with tears, emeralds on a face wide with so much emotion and a burden. A voice telling her that she was a monster. Someone had to have instilled this into her from a very young age. He wanted to wrap his arms around her, hold her and let her feel his warmth and heart but this was delicate, as was she so instead he gave her another little nudge as he sat back, the arm closest to her moving so that his torso was exposed to her. Gael blinked slowly, a smile widening on his angled features. “Of course it is, little fern.” 

____________ A foreign instinct wormed its way into her brain and pushed Ren forward. She found her head buried against his chest and her arms wrapping around. No more words, no more fighting. Tears flowed freely, but not necessarily out of sadness or anger. The world had spun on its axis, and the nymph was allowing herself to be held truly and wholly for the first time in her life. Darya would never, she could never do this. And she’d just as quickly kill Ren for being this soft. For going against her directive. For being a person instead of a thing. 

There was relief to it. The hug. The way she could hear the man’s heart beating, feel the vibrations echo from his chest into hers. Slowing down her heartbeat until the two of them were at least in the same range. There, Ren sobbed. For grief of time that could have been spent like this. A quiet somber moment, still filled with more happiness than she could even describe. It was hard to say how long she sat like that for. Just letting the worst of it rush out of her like a dam being released. Harder to say how long she would have stayed if she let herself. 

For now, it was over. The sudden break in facade patched up and died down. Ren shuffled back, still unsure of how this was supposed to go. She’d never cried in front of someone, not like this. Not this close, not this much. Tears were a weakness she couldn’t usually afford. It wasn’t like that here. She knew that now.  ____________

The older man was glad he had positioned himself in the way he did because while he wasn’t expecting it at all, one moment had flashed into the next and her arms were around him, feeling her face pressing into his chest, her body trembling with an overflow of emotions Gael wasn’t sure she’d felt in a long while. After an initial pause, he placed his hands on her in turn, feeling large compared to her small frame, one gently on her head and the other on her shoulder. Gael felt a pulse through him, a warmth that he hadn’t felt in a long time - when he held his sister’s child, comforting her as she cried from an injury. So inconsolable but he kept breathing, as he did now with a different child in his arms. Bug, human, fae, not, the limited time they spent together, his damned attachments that he formed way too quickly and without anyone’s permission including his own but he grasped these feelings, ephemeral though they felt sometimes. He wasn’t sure how long they sat there and honestly it was as long as she needed. He kept his embrace strong but loose for when she would want to disengage and as she did, he obliged. Gael’s shirt was soaked with tears but he didn’t even notice - what he did notice was her regulated breathing, her exhaust, the relief of having released everything she had, even if only for a moment. She pulled away and he offered her a gentle smile, the same one he’d given her from the beginning and the same one he had when he talked to her online as an anonymous individual online.  “I needed that.” He said after a small pause, not untruthfully. “...It’ll be okay.” And it would; she had his word, an unspoken promise.

#WR Writing #Writing: Lean on Me #Writing with: Ren #child abuse tw #child neglect tw #[past tw for both] #wickedswriting

[royalarchivist]

Ramon: So opinions on [Bagi]?

Fit: She's legit, we can trust her. We can trust her.

Ramon: Would you rather a dad or a mom [for me?]

Fit: Uh- I- no one! No one. Let's- let's get over to Felps' Square, Ramon. [They head to the warp at Spawn, then Fit hesitates] Um, wait- Ramon. [He pauses, briefly looks at the camera, then says in a rush] If I had to choose between the two, it'd be a dad. Alright, let's go. Let's go, let's go.

#FitPac #Hideduo #Ramon #FitMC #QSMP #Ramon driving the Hideduo bus today and frickin FLOORING it #I'm a slowburn enjoyer but I do love it when the Eggs are little bastards and tease their parents like this LMAO #If I have time maybe I can compile some of the Fit/Pac moments from today #Ok but this out of everything that's happened lately re: Hideduo stuff; this really warmed my heart #idk it just felt so... realistic? I dunno how to phrase it but something about it really made me go :') #''if I had to choose between the two it'd be a dad'' #man idk maybe this is just because that's how I write characters but that really spoke to me #both as a slowburn writer and as a demi-leaning person

[harbingersglory]

hii could i req an soft dom arlecchino x sub/fem reader?? something w a really needy whiny reader n maybe like a mommy kink or thigh riding IDK tysm for ur time !

{☆} characters arlecchino {☆} notes drabble, fem reader, sub reader {☆} warnings 18+ content

"Slowly, doll. We're not in a rush." Arlecchino reprimands lightly, squeezing your hips with just enough force to keep you unmoving on her thigh– she was still being gentle, but the subtle warning in her tone spoke to how easily she could push you against the desk and turn you into such a mess that you couldn't even remember your own name..just that you were hers.

But the barest hint of stimulation from her slacks pressed against your throbbing cunt had you twitching, barely able to form words. All you could think about was the scorching, twisting need building in your stomach, desperation for relief slowly climbing until you'd think she was doing this on purpose to drive you mad.

"Please– 'm a good girl, right? I've been good.." You choked out, only to be met with the rough, husky laugh echoing in your ear that made you feel dizzy with a rush of need, her nails gliding along the skin of your hips as she pressed you down even more firmly– you couldn't see her face but it was easy to imagine the crooked smile twisting her lips at the way you inhaled sharply and tried to buck against her thigh.

"Shh. I know, doll. I've got you, just relax." She murmured in that sickly sweet tone that always had your knees buckling, the raspiness of her voice sending shivers down your spine. It was almost impossible to relax with her so close, the notes of metal lingering on her skin despite how well she presents herself– but you trusted her, despite how you know you shouldn't.

"There we go. Good girl." Arlecchino's grip on your hips loosened just enough for you to move if you so wished, and oh did it take every ounce of restraint to not do just that..she hadn't said you were allowed to, and you weren't about to spoil her good mood by being a brat. Not tonight, anyway. "Do you want to cum, doll?"

The fervent nod you offer in place of words draws a laugh from her lips, one that is almost mocking, making your face flush in embarrassment– but the sudden tap against your hip makes your mind go blank to the point you forget it all together, focused only on the feeling of her thigh rubbing against your cunt as you bucked against her thigh, the fabric slick and wet against your inner thighs. You'd have half the heart to be embarrassed about that, too, if not for the sudden brush of her thumb against your aching, neglected clit. Just that small touch has you speeding up your movements, practically drooling as you whimpered like a dog in heat.

"That's more like it, doll. Such a pretty girl." Arlecchino hummed, her other hand trailing up your stomach, between the valley of your breasts and ghosting across your throat before settling on grabbing your jaw in a firm, yet almost tender touch as she tilted your head to the side just enough for her to pull you into a burning kiss. It left you lightheaded, grinding down against her thigh as she claimed your mouth as her own, her thumb still ghosting over your clit sporadically.

She'd spent so long teasing you, constantly touching you but never where you needed her, that you already felt like you were going to snap like a wire. She must've been in a really good mood, then, when she pulled away from the kiss with an almost predatory lick of her lips, yet she settled on pressing kisses to your skin rather then the usual sharp bite of her teeth as they sunk into the curve of your shoulder.

"Are you close? Go on. I want to see your face when you cum– you look the prettiest when you finally break apart, doll." Arlecchino mused idly– as if she wasn't talking to you while you continued to rub your aching cunt against her thigh, chasing your own release through shaky, strained breaths. Her thumb swiped over your lips, brushing strands of hair stuck to your skin from your face– at the same time as she swiped her thumb more firmly against your clit, creating a vicious contrast that had you both melting at the barest hint of almost softness from her and the touch of her hand between your legs, dragging you into an orgasm that leaves you trembling and, had she not shoved her fingers into your mouth, screaming, tears pooling in the corners of your eyes.

"All done, little doll. Take it easy." She murmured, voice so quiet you almost didn't hear it, thumb swiping across your cheek to wipe away the stray tear, her hands pulling away to settle on your sides. "You did well– good girl. Let me take it from here."

#genshin impact smut #genshin smut #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #minors dni #writing tag #arlecchino x reader #arlecchino smut #i considered the mommy part for half a second but i see arle as the biggest butch and i didnt want 2 swap it on the fly looks around #the projection is just a little too hard my bad. i am obnoxiously annoying abt butch arle... #n e way ough soft arle...........not done enough......arle being rough is a given bc shes Like That but like #soft....... #i am weak for a woman who can do both and switch on a dime #arle imo leans like. 80-90% towards rough but shes got a soft spot if shes in a good mood yknow.. #i wrote this at 1 am on like uhhh 2 hrs of sleep if it isnt good uhhhhh blame it on that lol #im just feeling it out rn anyway tryna get into writing proper smut again its been a hot minute oop #passes out and dies ough...................... #also did NOT spellcheck i just wrote it all in one sitting and called it a day i am gonna pass out now so if u see a typo.... #no u didnt #im not done yet wait a minute okay now just. soft arle got me okay. its rlly rare but shes good at playing nice okay #the appeal of arle is fucked up little creature but sometimes u want 2 be pampered i get it #OKAY im actually shutting up now passes out in the middle of the road

[minty364]

DPXDC Prompt #105

Danny knew he wasn’t from this dimension. He wasn’t sure how he knew but it was something that he felt deep in his core that was true. Something’s just didn’t feel right sometimes and it also felt like the things that were happening were off or wrong somehow. His parents on his 15th birthday came out to tell him that he was adopted and that just cemented the feeling that he wasn’t from here. He goes to Ghost Writers library to look for anything that could help him and he finds a summoning request, basically you can request that someone summons you as long as you’ve got a vague idea of who it is. Danny asks to be summoned by his birth father.

Pick anyone from DC to be his dad but ima go with Batman for this example just because it’s Bruce LMAO. Batman suddenly gets a piece of paper that requests him summon the Ghost King and while everyone is terrified about what such an entity want’s especially since it’s Batman. Everyone is further confused when a teen gets summoned and looks around the room at all the superheroes in awe.

#dp x dc prompt #dp x dc #dc x dp #danny fenton #danny phantom #writing prompt #Danny is adopted #Batman is Danny’s birth parent #I feel like most of my ideas lean heavily into crack fic territory #To be fair most fics I love wind up with heavy doses of crack in them #It’s just the way I am #You can fight me outside of a Dennys parking lot later I’ve got more ideas to think about #my asks are still open btw

[baldursgate3tempobsessed]

Past Astarion Meets His Future

This is a weird ass idea, but I'm doing it anyway. Some time travel fuckery. But the gist is: What if Astarion, decades before the Mind-flayers captured him, was on his last leg? Just on the verge of doing, what was at the time, his only way out. But what if something a little unworldly stopped him?

TW: Suicidal thoughts. M/F, me phoning it in with the dnd lore, Cazador is evil. Like, torture, physically and mentally, manipulation, literal horror shit. He's here so bad things happen to randos and our poor guy. I'm also using this as the backstory again for why Astarion can be in the sun in the future because it's so god damned convenient for drabbles.

~

Astarion watched the crowded bar with focused eyes, a feigned, relaxed smirk on his lips. But even with the acting, he could feel the smile on his face start to tremble, a tell-tale sign that he was truly on his last leg. It had been a long, horrible night, one that had no end in sight. Cazador was in rare form, demanding multiple warm bodies in the span of less than five hours. Astarion wasn't sure what had angered him this time, but he was taking it on the victims in a particularly savage way.

Twice already he had forced Astarion to stay in the room with the poor souls he'd brought back. And then Cazador... made him watch what he did to them. The monster truly had a knack for keeping them alive until the last possible moment. Beating them, assaulting them, laughing at their cries for help. He drank from them last, feasting on their blood until they were just on the edge of death before tossing to them ground. Then Astarion was dismissed with the order to find another.

He hated it. It was the worst part of his nights by far, not including when he was the one being tortured in their place. It didn't help that he always looked at their faces, full of terror and betrayal.

Why did he always have to look? It was a question he knew the answer to. It was because he did that to them. Perhaps not literally, but what was the difference? Astarion had led them straight into his hands.

That was all he did. His entire existence had been reduced to this. A slave, a rat, scuttling through the streets, only capable of inflicting the same torment on strangers. It was a hell that no one should experience, and one that Astarion had been in for nearly 130 years.

How could he continue like this? What was the point? He'd spent so long living on pure survival instinct, waiting for the impossible day where luck would be on his side. Where Cazador would kill the wrong stranger, where the possibility of his murder could become a reality. It was delusional, a poor excuse to continue clinging to this farce of a life.

But there was another option. There always had been. All he needs to do is wander off and wait for the sun to rise, and everything could finally be over. It's far from the first time he's thought about it. But Astarion is nothing but a coward. He'd seen the pure pain and misery of a death of that nature, your insides boiling from within as your skin turned to dust. It was horrifying, one of the worst ways someone could go. And yet... it was starting to seem like the only reasonable option he had left.

Maybe... maybe today would be the day, the first time he'd seen the sun in decades. And the last time he'd ever take a breath.

"Are you alone?" A voice asked, followed by a gentle touch to his arm.

Astarion turned, that same shallow smile instantly reappearing on his face. It was a man, one that was handsome enough for Astarion to probably not feel completely sick during the deed. Then again... he could always ignore them and go back to his final plan.

Or he could wait it out one more day, and pray for a miracle. Astarion nodded towards him, still slightly torn but willing to at least try. It's not like he could go home empty handed if things turned out that way.

"Come to my room?"

Well this was certainly easy. Astarion didn't even have to take the energy to bite out a subpar pick up line. He just followed the man to his room, a plan forming in his head on how he could convince him back to the manor. Not to mention his own escape if he turned out to have less than savory intentions.

The stranger shut the door behind him, sitting on the side of his bed with his hands folded in his lap, his eyes staring straight ahead. Astarion barely stopped himself from rolling his own. Great. A weirdo. What a lovely way to end the night, spending it seducing a complete freak. But Astarion had dealt with worse. He perched next to him, crossing his legs as he waited to see where this would go.

"I can see it," He finally said, his voice gravelly as he turned to stare at Astarion.

Astarion raised his brow, wondering for the first time if this particular prey had been partaking in some mind altering substances, "And what exactly are you seeing?"

"You."

Suddenly, the man was wrapping a tight hand around Astarion's wrist, his eyes shining with an unnatural green light, "You're close to the edge. Too close. My lord needs you breathing."

Astarion froze, equally parts horrified and confused at what he was alluding to. How on earth did he know his thoughts? What lord? Or the more likely reality; How wasted could one person be?

Astarion tried to pull back, frowning when he realized the grip on his wrist was iron-clad. He could feel a bit of panic start to swell inside him as he struggled, his voice rising, "I have no idea what you're talking about. Let go of me-"

"You must live," He said, the color of his eyes only getting brighter and brighter, near twin flames in the darkness of the room, "There is no other way. Kelemvor has work for you yet."

His confusion was quickly evaporating into rage. He didn't know what this thing wanted from him, nor why the god of death would have any interest in his life. But how dare he insist on Astarion's pathetic existence having meaning. He knew nothing.

His mask was slipping, his righteous anger spilling forth, "Let go. Before I rip your fucking arm off."

But he made no moves to back down. Instead he started to chant, an incantation that had Astarion officially panicking. Whatever magic he was using, it was powerful. Reality was shifting right beneath Astarion's feet, morphing into something different. The next thing he knew they were somewhere else entirely, his reality melting into something new right before his eyes.

The entire thing was so shocking that Astarion didn't even realize he was seeing sunlight. Without a single pain. He frantically looked around, the insane stranger's grip finally loosening as he twisted away. They were on a couch, in the middle of what looked like a brightly lit townhouse, voices spilling out of the other room.

Astarion stood quickly, a hiss escaping him, "Where in the hells are we?"

"Nowhere," The man said cryptically, his eyes still aflame, "Neither the present of the future. We are in nothing but a glimpse, taken and made for you."

That did nothing to answer his question. But it did make his mind go into more reasonable directions. This had to be an illusion, there was no other explanation for why he wasn't being burned alive. But an illusion of what? And for what purpose?

Astarion pinched the bridge of his nose, at a complete loss at what to do. He could try and kill him and pray that that would break the spell. But there was also the chance that he wouldn't live through an altercation with someone who could warp his senses so easily. Or perhaps this whole thing was a nightmare, a horrifying dream he'd cooked up after a night in the torture chamber.

Still at a loss, he settled on asking another question, "Then what is this a glimpse of?"

"Home," The man said simply before slipping off the couch. The cryptic bastard.

He started walking towards the next room towards the unknown voices; Astarion feeling helpless but to follow.

He lingered at the entryway, his eyes widening at the sight of a woman standing there, cooing at a teary-eyed child she had on her hip. They were right in her line of sight, but she had no reaction to their presence, instead calling out into the other room, "Did you find it yet?"

Another voice called back, oddly familiar as it groaned, "If I had, would I still be on my hands and knees here?"

Astarion stepped forward, more than ready to see if he could enlist the help of strangers for his predicament.

"They can not perceive us," The stranger said, interrupting the call for help that was on the tip of Astarion's tongue, "They are not real. Merely copies of what is, what will be."

"Lovely," Astarion growled out, his fingers itching to fight back against this demon of a man, "Now what in the gods' names does this have to do with me?"

"Watch and you will see," He said, his eyes blazing straight ahead, "The Lord of Death works in mysterious ways."

Astarion's theory of this being a torture-induced dream was becoming more and more believable. He didn't even bother questioning it, not when one more inane answer would send him into a tailspin. Instead he stared ahead, waiting for the moment he would wake up.

The baby was still squirming. Annoying whining sounds spilling from its lips, nearly on the edge of crying. But the woman still had a bright smile on her face, calling back "I told you we should have looked for it last night!"

"Well when she threw it across the room I assumed that meant it had fallen out of favor!" That same familiar voice yelled back, followed by an excited ah-ha! sound.

"Isabella's gonna have a fit, isn't she?" The woman sing-songed, bouncing the child on her hip, "I guess Mommy's going to have to let you start sucking on Daddy's hair again, huh?"

"I heard that!" The muffled voice called back, getting clearer and clearer by the moment. And then another man was walking into the room, grinning ear to ear as he held up a pacifier, "And I will not be forgetting it darling. Don't come crying to me the next time she's gnawing on your nose."

He leaned over to kiss the woman on the cheek before popping the pacifier in the girl's mouth, laughing when it instantly made her calm down. He was tall and pale, an elf with piercing red eyes and pure white hair.

No. It couldn't be-

"There. All better," The man sighed, his voice crystal clear in the calmness of the room, "She has quite the arm for a toddler."

It was a voice that Astarion knew, better than anyone else. It was his own.

Astarion watched, wide-eyed as his other self lifted the baby up in his arms, laughing as the child squealed around the pacifier, "She sure is cute for someone who can be such a brat. She takes after her mother doesn't she?"

The woman rolled her eyes, but she was still smiling. Almost like she couldn't help but do anything else as she watched the duo, "Brave words for someone of your nature. Not to mention how she's your twin."

"Nonsense. She looks just like you, we should have named her Tav Jr," Other Astarion playfully argued, taking his other arm to wrap around the woman's shoulders, "I'm only responsible for the corpse-like complexion."

Astarion stared at them, in complete shock. He didn't-why would anyone or anything want to show him this? It didn't make sense. How would it be possible for him to be in the sunlight? Let alone to have a family. Astarion knew that this had to be a lie, there was no other explanation.

But that didn't stop his heart from aching from being forced to witness it. He was too shell-shocked to speak as he followed the duo to the other room, listening as his other self set the child in a crib, still cooing at her, "Auntie Karlach is coming over and you'll need your rest. How else will you be annoying together?"

"Astarion!"

He watched himself laugh as he pulled back, kissing her little forehead before murmuring, "Mommy only says my name like that when she has no comeback, isn't that right princess?"

"You're going to regret telling her everything when she can start talking," The woman, Tav, piped up from next to him, "I hope you realize she'll tell me all of your secrets."

Astarion rolled his eyes before pulling her against him, pressing a sweet and lingering kiss to her lips, "What secrets do I have that you don't know? Please, enlighten me."

What kind of cruel joke was this? Astarion, the real Astarion, had seen enough. He turned to the bastard that had sent him here, growling through gritted teeth, "Why are you doing this to me? Have I not suffered through enough?"

The man offered nothing of value, "We offer you what could be, if you can survive. No more, no less."

No. No, no, no. He wouldn't believe him. He refused to. There was no future for him. There couldn't be. I-It wasn't possible. Not with Cazador looming, not when he couldn't walk in the sun without being burned alive. And especially not when he couldn't even fathom letting himself care form someone enough to have a family with.

But that's what was in front of him. He turned back, his morbid curiosity getting the better of him. Just in time to see the couple standing there, holding each other while they made out like teenagers.

"I love you," His other self sighed happily, the words free and unbidden from his own lips between kisses, "More than anything my sweet."

"With one exception?" Tav asked, her arms wrapped around his neck.

Astarion laughed, nodding towards the crib with a knowing grin, "With one exception."

Astarion stared at them, a horrifying feeling starting to grow in his chest.

Hope.

It's the greatest betrayal he could give himself, an eternity's sentence to his own personal hell on the delusional belief that something better would come. He couldn't give in to it. He wouldn't.

But the question still escapes his lips, "How long?"

"Seventy years until you meet," The stranger said, "You must live to see it. Five more until you're here."

Astarion watched, wide-eyed as the alternate reality started to fade, the stranger's eyes becoming more dull and human-like by the moment. He stared until the last possible moment, trying to commit it all to memory.

But it was difficult. Like thoughts he couldn't quite grasp, slipping through his fingers. Something wasn't right.

"Will I remember this?" He asked, even though he was already on the edge of forgetting.

"No," The man said simply. They were back in the room, sitting on the bed as though nothing had happened, "But you'll remember the hope."

It was the equivalent of a curse, one that Astarion could barely fathom as magic twisted his memories. But he could feel it there, festering in his heart. The yearning for a new life, stronger than ever.

Astarion left Shar's Caress that night feeling dazed and confused. He barely managed to drag a wasted loner back to the manor with him, preying on him in the back aisles. It was startling to think that he'd almost forgotten his original mission considering the consequences. But whatever happened had... done something to him. Something that he couldn't quite name.

But he didn't see the sun that day. Or the next. Or the day after that. Instead he continued to struggle, to suffer at the hands of his sadistic sire with no end in sight. Not until years and years later, when the worst and best thing to ever happen to him occurred. He was kidnapped by mind flayers, but gifted with a disgusting parasite that allowed him to live in the sun.

It wasn't ideal but it was better than being under Cazador's thumb. Not to mention how he found companions relatively quickly. It had been pure luck that you stumbled upon him, even luckier still that you were the type to forgive a man for having a knife to your throat.

He was happy to accompany you. He was happy to do whatever it took to increase his chances of survival, frankly. It helped that he felt... strangely drawn to you. You looked oddly familiar. He didn't know how else to describe it, but it was almost as though he'd met someone from a past life.

#astarion #astarion x reader #baldur's gate 3 #astarion x tav #what kind of christmas carol fuckery is this? #I'm having a kids moment #but hey isn't writing where you can explore the things you don't know if you want or not yet #heavy leaning towards not because my ass isn't locking down an astarion man #time travel? #what is this #idk #practice writing dont judge me #queue

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

AGH FASHION DESIGNER SUGURU AND MODEL SATORU W A NEW INTERN DESIGNER UNDER THEIR WING 😞😞☹️ - 🌺

WAHHHH I LOVE THIS 🥺🥺🥺 the pining and flirting and slowburn of it all… model!satoru and his favorite designer suguru geto, both of them undeniably skilled and born with an eye for fashion….. well-known and adored……..

designer!suguru who gets tasked with showing you the ropes, who’s always so patient and kind despite your inexperience. diligent with his teaching but also so laidback, so easy to talk to… he looks intimidating, but he’s so polite that you can’t help but swoon a little. and he admires your enthusiasm so much…… grows fond of you soooo quickly bc you’re just such a breath of fresh air compared to the divas he’s forced to work with all the time. he thinks you’ve got real potential and he wants to nurture it.

and ofc you end up running into model!satoru eventually…. bc he’s always hanging around suguru whenever he gets the chance. and he’s maybe a little jealous that you’re hogging so much of his personal designer’s attention, but… he also thinks you’re so cute . T_T like a little puppy following suguru around… so excited to be apart of something you’ve dreamed of for so many years……… he looks into your eyes and sees the same sparkle he had before he made it big, and it makes his heart race.

yeah . i’m just thinking abt the peaceful coffee breaks with suguru….. how he’d insist on paying for your drink, ”since he’s your senior” (he wants to be your favorite </3)…… and how he’d just be so protective over his little intern. don’t get me started on the close proximity with satoru when you’re taking his measurements, the glance and smile he sends your way during an impromptu shoot… the way he always calls for you with a sweet coo of ”how’s my favorite intern doing today?”

😔😔😔 yeahhhhhh. they make me feel ill.

#thank you 🌺 anon my beloved….. i am kissing your beautiful brain #😭😭😭😭 now i kinda wanna write this oh no #my anons keep making my wip list longer this isn’t fair T—T #(i love you all very much) #NO BUT THIS IS SO BIGBRAINED IT’S INSANE #fashion designer!sugu the loml…. model!satoru just feels so natural too #i think they’re both very mature!!!!!!! #there are some aus where i think satoru would lean towards his more bratty hs self #but here i feel like he’s similar to the way he is in canon :3 just. silly and goofy and passionate abt what he does #AND very fond of youth. of people with lofty goals and dreams and starlight in their eyes #(<- has gotten carried away) #YOU GET IT THOUGH i know you’ll see the vision 🌺 anon 🫂🫂🫂 we’re holding hands #i need them both #need suguru to buy me expensive coffee while satoru feeds me pieces of a pastry #for some reason i keep thinking of coffee breaks i might. just be hungry 😭😭😭 #ask tag ✩ #🌺 anon !! ✩ #geto x reader #gojo x reader #stsg x reader #satosugu x reader #gojo satoru x reader #geto suguru x reader

[inoreuct]

would you agree that we all need more Sanji getting nosebleeds over Zoro in this fandom?

YES *pelting down a hill waving the proposal for this in my hand like a madman* YESSSSSS

the first time sanji gets a nosebleed over zoro is his clue-in that oh. i’m not straight, am i. the swordsman’s doing a bench press (shirtless, as always) as sanji walks by (and sanji sneaks a look, as always, because who wouldn’t?) and when he glances over the plates he has to do a double take because what the fuck. zoro’s pressing more than twice his body weight. zoro’s repping more than twice his body weight. he’s just registered that maybe he’s stared for a bit too long when he feels something warm and wet on his upper lip, iron dripping over his mouth, and he books it for the galley.

he slams the door shut and presses his back against it before he slides to the ground and screams into his knees because what. the fuck. it’s not even that he’s getting hot and bothered over a guy; it’s just that the guy’s zoro. he’s not supposed to get nosebleeds over zoro.

but he does.

and it gets worse.

zoro walking around shirtless on deck? nosebleed. zoro re-tying the sails and just hanging on with his legs around the mast? nosebleed. zoro strutting out of the shower door, damp with steam and hair dripping wet and a towel around his waist? nosebleed. zoro tsking irritably and grabbing all of sanji’s food and packages from him to haul the whole lot over his shoulder? NOSEBLEED.

and not even that. he starts getting breathless around zoro and his chest hurts. he kicks zoro back while they’re sparring one day and the swordsman grins, feral and unrestrained and all challenge and teeth, and sanji’s heart spasms so hard that he actually wonders if he’s about to go into cardiac arrest. he’s barely twenty, he isn’t ready to die— much less because of some stupid marimo. chiselled abs and a nice set of biceps are only worth so much of sanji’s dignity. he twists and smashes the sole of his shoe right into zoro’s pretty face.

still, it gets so, so bad that he’s elected to just. avoid zoro completely. he’s sneaking around corners and running across open expanses ducked low like some kind of goofy thief and he knows it’s so fucking stupid but he doesn’t. he doesn’t know if zoro likes— no. he doesn’t even think about it. there’s no way, and if he gives himself false hope he’ll just break his own heart. he doesn’t know if zoro likes men, or anyone, much less him; nobody in their right mind would, not really. he's nice to have but not to keep and he's come to terms with it.

…until zoro corners him in the galley and demands to know what the fuck’s going on.

sanji stays facing away, slowly washing the dishes even as his heart pounds so hard it hurts. he is painfully aware of the way zoro’s seething like an over-boiled kettle in one of the chairs behind him, arms crossed over his stupidly broad chest and stock-still because he never, ever shakes his leg even though sanji knows he wants to.

his sponge squeaks across ceramic. the water’s warm against his fingertips, and his eyes flick up to meet his own reflection in the porthole window; he looks… well, he doesn’t know. scared, maybe. nervous. his mouth is thin, eyes wide, cheeks flushed, a shudder running its fingers down his spine even as his heartbeat thumps between his ribs and god, fuck, it aches. and he knows. he looks himself in the eyes and he knows that somewhere along the line nosebleeds had turned into falling in love and he was the stupid idiot who had just let it happen because he was too weak to pry zoro out of his thoughts.

his gaze flicks down sharply when he hears the sudden scrape of the chair, and zoro spits, “look, i can’t fix whatever i did wrong if you don’t tell me what it is.”

sanji’s heart throbs. “what?”

he can hear zoro’s scowl. “what, what? i obviously did something. you’ve been avoiding me like the plague.”

the cook almost laughs. he bites it down and swallows his words, salty-sweet at the back of his throat. guilt nips at him; zoro’s his rival and and his personal annoyance and a blockhead but he might also, maybe, just maybe, be sanji’s best friend. and sanji hasn’t been very fair to him lately.

he swallows again, clears his throat silently. “you didn’t do anything, marimo,” he murmurs to the plate in his hands, trying for airy and getting more somewhat vaguely strangled. he coughs. “just forget about it. sorry i’ve been weird.”

sanji will deal. he will, somehow; he’d been careless and careless is dangerous and for perhaps the first time in his life, he has too much to lose. he’ll squash his heart into a box and lock it down tight like he always has and it’ll hurt, but when does it ever not? he mentally declares the matter done and dusted as he shakes off the plate and gently sets it on the drying rack.

his lungs hitch as a callused hand cups his elbow.

zoro pulls him around. he’s too weak to resist. the edge of the sink digs into his hip as stormy grey eyes scan his face and zoro looks tense, his jaw set in the way it only is when he faces off with a particularly vexing foe.

“did i not look happy enough at dinner?" he asks, and it could be mockery but it isn't, not with that edge to his voice; not desperation, but damn near. like filter paper burning its way to ash. "was it my clothes on the floor? my boots on the bed? what?”

sanji can't stand it anymore. he looks away, tries to twist out of the invisible bonds zoro has him trapped in, but fingers looped around his wrist are all it takes to make him stay and fuck, fuck, he's so fucked.

"sanji, what did i do?” zoro breathes, brow furrowed, voice too near and too damn earnest, and sanji's throat bobs as he digs the heel of his palm into his eye.

this isn't how it's supposed to go. zoro isn't supposed to care. zoro isn't supposed to be standing here in the galley saying his name in that tone of voice. a hand carefully pulls his own away from his face, and zoro doesn't fucking let go, and sanji feels too much like he's been stripped down to the bone.

"i know," zoro continues, gruff like he doesn't know how to be anything else, "that i upset you. so would you please tell me what i did so i can fix it?" he bends lower still, ducking to try and catch sanji’s line of sight but sanji just can't look at him. "i'll fix it, i—"

"you can't fix this." the words are out and in the air before he can stop them, and a bittersweet smile curves his mouth. "there's nothing to fix, so you can't fix it. just let it go, alright?"

zoro wants to argue. sanji can tell. but the swordsman lets out a measured exhale after a long moment and pulls back, face carefully neutral. "at least tell me what's going on, cook."

sanji looks down at his feet. "...i can't."

"like hell you can't," zoro replies immediately, and it's such an abrupt reminder of their normal banter that it wrenches a rough noise from sanji's chest. "i was the one who held your hair back after you had, like, seven margaritas too many. don't think you could tell me anything worse than the experience of trying to stop you from falling into your own puke."

"oh, jesus fuck," sanji swears on instinct, then laughs. it's unfortunately hollow. "that was one time, asshole."

"one time too many," zoro hums, raising an eyebrow. "so you gonna tell me what's going on, or do i have to make it a captain's order?"

sanji grits his teeth.

"i will drag luffy in here, i don't care—"

"fucking—" he holds his breath, flipping around to white-knuckle the edge of the sink and letting it out slow. "fine. you ever loved someone, marimo?"

"sure." zoro shrugs easily, crossing his arms as he looks out the window. "kuina, but i think i learned to love her memory more than anything else. luffy, nami—" a near-unnoticeable flutter of thick lashes. "you."

sanji exhales through his nose as he rocks back on his heels. squeezes out air till it hurts. "you know that's not what i meant."

"what did you mean, then?"

he turns to look at where zoro has settled lazily against the counter, the moon turning his eyes to silver. "I mean the kind of love that makes your blood race. that makes you want more even when you know you'll never take more than you're allowed. the kind that makes your heart hurt so badly you feel empty without it."

the swordsman's face is unreadable as he tilts his head slowly. "i did say i love you."

it hits sanji like a bullet. he sucks in a sharp breath, and his throat burns as he turns away and tries to stop his shoulders from heaving up. "don't fuck with me, zoro. not about this."

it feels rather like a cruel cosmic joke. he's so near yet so far, just one step away with a gauzy curtain between but he can't touch it. he won't. he's got too many things on the line and yet he can't even name one of them.

"hey."

he squeezes his eyes shut against the burn of salt that shouldn't even be there, and look at that. little sanji's gone and broken his own heart again.

"hey," zoro tries again, more insistent, one hand hovering in the space between them and sanji feels the pull of it like a magnet.

he doesn't turn away as it cups his cheek. doesn't run as fingers slide through the short hairs at his nape, a thumb behind his jaw. his lashes are damp. it is everything he wants and everything he cannot have and he can't—

"look at me."

"i can't," he breathes, lungs rising fast and shallow. he's afraid to open his eyes. he's afraid of what he'll see.

"yes, you can." zoro shifts closer and another hand joins the first. it's big and rough and warm and he holds sanji's face like he's the moon herself. "look at me, curly."

he can't.

he does.

zoro's gaze is almost painful to meet straight-on with how intense it is. he seems to realise, face softening as he leans closer, closer, posture loose enough that it would be no problem for sanji to shove him away. "you love me," he breathes. "yes or no?"

sanji's heart stops. his tongue is clumsy in his mouth, his brain a mess of yesnoyesyesnoiwon'tican’tido—

"don't think." zoro's voice cuts through the haze as he shakes his head slowly; a sword through smoke, silver-bright, singing in the air and leaving silence. "don't think. you love me, yes or no."

the galley swims around sanji as his vision blurs. he feels his tears spill hot down his cheek, knows the way zoro aches to brush them away and yet stays still. he opens his mouth and it feels like stepping out of the only shelter he's ever known; he is an open fucking wound and he's raw and everything hurts, everything but zoro. zoro. zoro. "yes."

just one word, three simple letters, and still it feels like damnation; if he'd never said it he could deny it but now it's real. the swordsman relaxes, shoulders dropping enough that his forehead brushes sanji's, and sanji tracks the way his throat bobs. the way steel-grey eyes flicker over his face, molten in the light of the electric lamps and the moonlight spilling through the window, gilding zoro like something out of a dream. a fairytale sanji read as a child until the edges of the pages fitted familiar to his thumbs as his little hands reached for a happy ending that was never meant to be his.

he shakes, now, as zoro reaches up to run tentative fingers through straw-pale hair. "let me love you. yes or no."

"i—" the sound that twists from his mouth is cracked jagged down the middle, unpolished as a common pebble picked up off the damn street. "you don't—"

"yes or no."

"i'm not what you want," he gasps, his face wet.

"yes or no."

sanji wants to break apart. because zoro sounds like he's begging, and he cannot fathom anybody possibly wanting him that much. he wants to scream and cry and claw at the walls until his nails break. he wants to shatter into pieces all over the floor without having to worry about putting himself back together. he wants. he wants, and zoro's looking at him with the closest thing to reverence he's seen in his life, and even that isn't enough for him to believe it. "i'm not what you want."

he can barely look at zoro. he can barely look at himself. the shame is clawing a pit into his stomach, and he lets it, feels every inch of it, because what kind of person doesn't know how to be loved? his breath catches wetly as zoro cups his jaw in both hands, tilting his face up, and once again sanji is too weak to pull away.

"you are everything i want."

the words are so fierce, so sure, and sanji is cracking apart at the seams. the stitches pulled tight by his own hand are unravelling and he can't stop it—

"yes or no."

zoro's breath ghosts warm across his mouth, fingertips in his hair, just far away enough for sanji to see the way his eyes are blazing and yet he waits. his thumb on sanji's cheek is the gentlest thing sanji has ever known.

"you'll get tired of me," he tries weakly, one last time for good measure, and zoro just shakes his head. the resolve in his expression does not waver even once.

sanji breaks.

"yes." the word scrapes itself out of his throat seconds before arms are going around him, and he sobs. lets the swordsman bring them both to the kitchen floor as he curls up in zoro's lap, fingers clawing into his white shirt, numb with how hard he cries because nobody, nobody has ever stayed. not without him getting hurt in the process. he pushes them away when he gets scared and they let him and then it becomes his fault when it all blows up in his face, but zoro's not leaving, and it's so foreign to him that he's shaking so badly and he can't stop.

a warm, heavy palm smooths over his spine and he lets himself be shifted closer, settles sideways as zoro wraps an arm over his shins and rocks them until his breathing evens out. the embarrassment hits like a gut punch; he knows he looks like a mess, face blotchy and hair everywhere and eyes puffy as hell, but zoro cards his bangs out of his eyes and looks at him like he doesn't care, and sanji turns away.

he feels... fragile. like he's made of tinted glass and spun sugar, like he'll cave in at the slightest touch. there is something melting in his chest and it drips down over his ribs; pools fresh as a river in spring, offset by the grounding presence of zoro's hands on his skin. "don't say i didn't warn you," he mumbles, masking his very real fear behind a layer of watery bravado as he hides his face in zoro's shoulder, and of course, of course zoro sees right through him.

the swordsman's thumb traces the swirl of his eyebrow before zoro rests his chin on top of sanji's head. "i don’t listen. you know that."

you know me, is what goes unsaid, and sanji doesn't deign to reply. he buries his face into zoro's chest and breathes in the smell of steel and sword oil and— he sits up slightly, eyes narrowing. "you've been stealing my deodorant, yes or no." the way zoro stills momentarily is a dead giveaway, and he yelps when the swordsman flicks his forehead.

"would you rather i be stinky?" zoro scoffs, rolling his eyes gently as sanji settles back down with a huff.

"you still are stinky. if we're gonna be together i'm expecting you to shower at least once every two days—" zoro groans, and he powers through, raising his voice, "—and if you aren't fussy i'll let you shower with me."

the way zoro instantly stops complaining cracks a laugh out of him. it's weak and watered-down, but it's a start. zoro's hands slide back into his hair and he hums as he lets his eyes fall shut.

the moon's full tonight. their ship rocks gently, and sanji gets comfortable; zoro's warm and solid and happens to make a perfectly respectable pillow. the thought that he can have this now sends a thrill through him.

he's not a fool. he's not optimistic when it comes to this. when it comes to love.

but with zoro's thumb rubbing mindless circles against the side of his thigh and a kiss pressed to the top of his head, he's got a pretty good feeling about this time around.

#er. this dragged me down the hill and i let it #this got so off-topic anon i apologise #but to be fair even after they start dating sanij gets absolutely HORRIFIC nosebleeds #like hello?? that man is hot as hell?? and he's MY man??? good lordy #cue him leaning against the wall in a dramatic swoon and yelling for zoro to catch him #(zoro does not catch him. sanji falls on his ass.) #(he does get a forehead kiss before zoro walks away cackling though so. a win is a win!) #black leg sanji #zosan #one piece zosan #zoro x sanji #roronoa zoro #one piece zoro #one piece sanji #one piece #ino writes #ino's ask box #sanji's issues deserve a tag of their own #my habit of segueing from chill fun rambling to emotionally damaging content should be studied. jesus christ.

[iwritenarrativesandstuff]

Killua and the Power of Wishes

Okay going to try and make this coherent because the amount of wish association all through Killua's character development makes me want to chew plaster.

As a fair warning, this analysis ended up being long as hell, and I didn't even include everything I could've said. This is also just one lens to analyze Killua's story arc with, and I feel there are other valid interpretations of some of these moments. This is just one of mine, so keep that in mind please.

One last warning that this analysis does discuss emotional manipulation and abuse, as is par for Killua's background.

Let's set the stage with one important piece of info: Killua's birthday.

Killua's birthday is July 7th, the same day as Tanabata. Tanabata is a folklore-rich festival where according to legend, the two lovers, weaver Orihime and cowherd Hikoboshi, represented by the two stars, Vega and Altair, are allowed to reunite once a year after separation. A popular custom of Tanabata is to make wishes by writing them down on tanzaku, then hang it on a bamboo tree so that the wish might one day come true.

Tanabata is also known as the Star Festival. Please keep this in mind, because I'm going to come back to it.

To finish setting up the lens for this analysis, I'm going to need to dig into the game-changer scene for Killua's early characterization - his confrontation with Illumi at the end of the Hunter Exam, and specifically, the exact nature of Illumi's manipulation of him.

I say "game-changer" because it really is - up until this point, it's kind of fair to not fully know what to think about Killua. Certainly, he seems excited to hang out with Gon (he approached him first, after all) and he's friendly enough, but he's also arrogant and claims to be motivated mainly by boredom. For all intents and purposes, Killua seems set up to be Gon's dangerous yet charismatic rival... but then this scene happens and it completely turns it all on its head.

Because Killua may have mentioned his family was controlling before, but he seriously downplayed the severity of it - likely because he has no point of reference for how awful his situation actually is other than it makes him feel bad and trapped. Illumi's appearance immediately shifts our understanding of Killua from runaway murder kid with annoying murder family to straight-up victim of emotional abuse, and dissolves his cockiness instantly to terror.

What does all this have to do with wishes? Glad you asked. Let's look at some of Illumi's dialogue.

[ID: A screenshot from HxH episode 20 of the 2011 anime. Killua looks up, sweating and conflicted, as Illumi tells him "You don't want anything or wish for anything." End ID.]

This is the crux of Illumi's (and the family's) control. Killua's desires do not align with the family trade. They must be excised from him.

When Killua insists that he does have something that he really wants, Illumi says "Tell me what it is you want", in a mockery of a certain other sibling who would have helped fulfill this wish - Illumi asks only so he can completely dismantle it. And Killua isn't even really surprised at Illumi's words, just heartbroken. You can tell this isn't the first time this sort of thing has happened.

Killua states his wish quite fervently; he really means it. But his words are not rebellious, nor cathartic. Instead, he answers Illumi quietly, as if fearful or ashamed, almost reminiscent of a sinner's confession.

[ID: Two screenshots from HxH episode 20 of the 2011 anime. In the first Killua looks down with a troubled expression, saying "I want to become friends with Gon...". In the second, his face is hidden as he stands with hands clenched at his sides with a spotlight on him. He says "I'm sick of killing people..." End ID.]

It's such an innocent, simple want.

And Illumi proceeds to make him feel like even something so simple is harmful and selfish of him... not to the family, but to Gon.

In a matter of a few minutes, Illumi breaks down Killua's wish by:

Acknowledging this desire, but twisting it into something that will inevitably fade over time, thereby causing Killua to doubt his own conviction and feelings -> "Gon is a novelty, a radiant presence who has piqued your curiosity. No more than that."

Acknowledging that Gon is someone important to Killua, and undermining this by telling him that by his very nature, he will eventually bring harm to Gon, which makes him feel as though Killua cannot trust himself to be a good friend -> "If you try to be friends with him, you will one day want to kill him... because you are, by nature, a murderer." (As a... delightful... bonus, this is also apparently how Silva and Illumi justify their treatment of Killua to him - "This is the essence of your existence and we taught you accordingly." Like they adapted to Killua's nature, instead of them molding Killua into who they wanted him to be.)

Delivering an ultimatum - to fight Illumi and win, or else Gon will die - that Killua is doomed to fail due to his upbringing and the needle in his head. Since Killua doesn't know about the needle, he assumes this is his own personal failure, something Illumi feeds into -> "You're just not qualified to make friends."

And it's the last point that breaks him. The first two shoot down Killua's present wish, but the last proceeds to shatter any hope he might've had of wishing for anything similar in the future - he has told him that his desires are weak, temporary, inherently dangerous to those around him, and worst of all, aren't enough on their own for him to deserve friendship and love from others. And the clincher: Killua feels like all of this is his own fault, that there is something inherently dangerous and wrong with him!

So, it doesn't even matter to Killua anymore if he fails the Hunter Exam. To him, he just failed the only test that mattered.

10/10 manipulation, Illumi. Fuck you, seriously.

Killua's character arc is mainly his quest and struggle to refute Illumi's arguments and to shake off the manipulation and the ways in which his family have molded and controlled him. And by far, the most difficult part of his conditioning to shake off is this idea that he is undeserving of anything more than what he is already given.

It's almost like the family has drilled it into him that wishes are dangerous. How interesting.

Thankfully, however, there are two parties to Killua's wish here - Gon, too, is a part of it, and it is not simply his reciprocated desire to be Killua's friend that saves him, but also his recognition of Killua's situation for what it is (notably, when no one else correctly identified the true issue).

"You know it wasn't his choice. You manipulated him, kidnapping his spirit!"

The ensuing Zoldyck family arc emphasizes that Gon is 100% correct: the main hold Killua's family has on him isn't physical - it's all emotional.

Killua breaks one of his shackles when Milluki threatens to have his new friends killed, but he only breaks the rest when Zeno tells him he's free to go. So, if Killua could break loose at any point, was this still a rescue like Gon said?

Well, yes - just because he absolutely could've broken out physically at any time, that does not mean he could just leave. That's the nature of situations such as this - it's not as simple as "just leaving". Support is necessary, as is actually having something tangible outside the situation to go to - otherwise there is little point to leaving at all. Gon (and Kurapika and Leorio) showing up to free Killua showed him that his wish was reciprocated and allowed him to break one cuff - this is the start of his journey, but he still has a long ways to go. Notably, he again hesitates and closes off when Silva asks what he wants.

[ID: Three panels from HxH chapter 42. In the first, Silva asks Killua "...would you like to see [Gon]?" Killua's expression is complicated in the next panel - he's closed off and uncertain. Silva continues "Be honest, Kil... what do you want?" End ID.]

Killua will backtalk and casually break his shackles and death glare his family... but he's too fearful to voice his wants aloud.

And once again, asked by his father what he wants, he is subtly set up to fail. His wish is granted, but made conditional - "Do not betray your friends", something Killua is regrettably set up to do by virtue of the needle in his head that he, again, doesn't know about. Silva fully expects him to fail and come back home, disillusioned, believing it's his own fault due to his "nature", and trusting in Silva still as a "reasonable" figure in his life.

This condition placed on his friendship is what drives much of Killua's fear and insecurity with regards to Gon for much of the series - the idea that Killua has to earn his right to friendship, and that if he doesn't, he will lose it, one way or another.

It really makes me wish that Killua had actually gotten to hear Gon's views on friendship from the beginning of the Zoldyck Family arc, because it entirely refutes this entire philosophy. He even outright refuses to go through the Testing Gates at first, purely because he thinks the sentiment of needing to prove yourself just to be friends is completely outrageous - he only relents because there is no other way.

[ID: Two screenshots from episodes 21 and 22 of the 2011 HxH anime adaptation. Gon looks up at Illumi and firmly states "[Killua] doesn't need to earn the right to be my friend!" In the second, Gon's face is seen in profile and close up as he asks "Why would you test your friends?" End ID.]

I doubt it would've truly prevented Killua's insecurity from manifesting even if he had heard this, to be honest - his issues with usefulness are very deep-rooted in his upbringing - but still, it would've been nice for him to hear, I think.

However, that's not to say that this exact sentiment doesn't come through in their interactions.

Gon, as Killua's friend, cares about what Killua actually wants and wants to make sure Killua knows that - and that's part of what makes the Whale Island conversation between them really important.

[ID: Two images, both of the same scene from HxH chapter 64, and episode 37 of the 2011 anime. In the manga panel, Gon has turned his head to look at Killua directly, who looks shocked and taken aback, to say "I like hanging out with you." In the anime screenshot, Gon has turned his whole body to face Killua, and says "I think it's fun to be with you." End ID.]

I see a lot of people chalk this up to just Gon being Gon, but it reads to me as much more deliberate than even his usual honesty. He's turned so he's looking directly at Killua, which is a sure way to make his words come across clearly. The lead up to this is Killua, again, not knowing or being able to vocalize what he wants. He doesn't have a goal to work towards like Gon, he only knows what he doesn't want - he's a mix of envious and admiring towards Gon, who knows what he wants and simply goes for it.

But this conversation makes it clear that they have a shared wish - they both want to be friends, and they'd both like to stay together. It's not about earning, to Gon, it's only about if they both want the same thing - mutual, not conditional. There's a nice almost call-and-response type dialogue here, where Gon asserts that he likes spending time with Killua (very directly lol), then shares that Killua is the first friend his age he's had. This prompts Killua to say that Gon is his first friend ever, and that he does have fun with him. And just like that, Gon replies "Then let's stay together!" and pointedly includes Killua's desire to find a goal in their, now shared, upcoming journey.

Overhead, a shooting star appears in the sky. A mutual wish is granted.

[ID: A panel from HxH chapter 64. The night sky is full of stars. In the centre is a shooting star. End ID.]

Hm. Stars. Remember how I told you to keep that in mind, all the way back at the beginning? Their association with Tanabata, making a wish on a shooting star, etc. etc.?

Well, buckle up because this star is going to make you experience so much sadness now.

[ID: Panels from HxH chapter 286. The first is a conversation between Killua and Meleoron where Killua asserts he intends to "go down in flames with [Gon]". When Meleoron looks concerned, Killua brushes off the declaration as a joke. In the second image, Killua is turned away, his outline pale, as Meleoron thinks "Why... did you looks so sad... back there?" The last image is a cloudy night sky filled with stars. At the centre of the panel is a shooting star. End ID.]

Yeah, it makes its reappearance directly after Killua has "jokingly" resolved to die with Gon if it comes down to it, after "since it means nothing to you".

I am assured, in Japanese, the word choice here is 心中 (shinjuu), the word for double suicide, where the intent is to die at the same time in the same manner in order to be reunited in the afterlife. The implication here is that Killua, having increasingly grown insecure in his place by Gon's side but unable to voice this, knowing that Gon is hurtling down the path of no return, thinks back to their conversation under the stars where they both mutually wished to stay together and, because he believes that it is no longer possible for him to help Gon, has resolved to stay by his side in death, and after it.

...holy shit, kid.

[ID: Two screenshots from the 4th ending of the 2011 anime. In the first, Gon and Killua stand back to back as meteors fall around them. In the second, they stand facing away from the audience towards a body of water under a night sky filled with stars - Gon throws a stone, which flashes in the air like a shooting star. End ID.]

And of course, here's the shooting star again in the 2011 anime's Nagareboshi Kirari ending, as well as it being the subject of the song itself and rather explicitly referencing that wish to go on a journey together, to stay together, because... Madhouse hates us. I guess. :'(

What started off as a simple wish for a friend deepened into a wish to always stay by Gon's side. This is largely good at first! Killua is able to explore and experience genuine friendship, to get a taste for freedom, and use the power of his fervent wish to protect his dear friend in order to rid himself of Illumi's needle. However, the more Killua wants, the more he traps these wishes in monologues within his own head and does not voice them aloud. Part of it is that he already feels he's been given much more than he deserves - seeing himself as a creature of darkness and Gon as light - but a greater part of the issue here is not that Killua is afraid to wish for things, but that he is afraid wishing without "compensation" will inevitably lead to horrible repercussions - namely, losing who he loves.

In order to feel worthy of staying with Gon, of earning his friendship, Killua works hard to help Gon achieve his goals, taking on the role of wish grantor, growing to do practically anything needed to support him for seemingly nothing in return - but that's not 100% true. Killua wants at least some appreciation, whether he admits it or not - it's a security thing, and it also clearly makes him happy, even if he's not great at accepting it. He insists in Chimera Ant arc that friends don't need to thank friends, but this declaration always read as very sudden to me or like a rationalization, and it's relevant to remember that this is at the peak of Gon isolating himself and self-destructing before his eyes, and Killua's own insecurity regarding his importance to him.

Killua might not mind doing things without thanks, but that doesn't mean he doesn't like to hear that Gon appreciates him. He clearly does appreciate verbal confirmation of their bond! We know this.

[ID: Two screenshots from the 2011 anime. The first is from episode 61. Killua smiles down at the ground with his hands in his pockets, the colours having gone soft and bright. The second is from episode 70 during the dodgeball match. Gon smiles determinedly in the foreground as Killua looks shocked next to him. End ID.]

Keeping all this in mind, Killua's story, or at least this part of it, couldn't have concluded in a better way than his rescue of Alluka, the wish grantor.

Now, I could probably write an entire other analysis on Alluka and Nanika alone, but for the sake of not making this any longer than I already have, I'm going to go through only a few points. Alluka is incomprehensible to her family because they make no attempt to understand her, with the exception of Killua. The only thing they do seem to understand, when explained to them, is the demands made after Nanika grants a wish - this, of course, fits neatly into their own predetermined views on "earning" and "punishment". However, beyond this, they make no attempt to understand her, and since her power is deemed dangerous and uncontrollable, she is locked away.

They are worried, first and foremost, that Alluka will bring harm to the family, and there's two ways in which this could be true:

As a function of failing to fulfill her requests, of course

Because she, just by existing, threatens the family's status quo

I stated at the beginning that Killua's desires do not align with those of the family business, and he's always apparently been more open to understanding others - he asks Alluka and Nanika questions to understand them, and treats them with respect, while his family are more so focused on subjugating anything that might be a threat. This is what Illumi tried to drill into Killua after all; never fight a superior opponent - everything is about assessments of relative strength, which leaves no room for open-mindedness or getting to know people.

Faced with a daughter who is clearly incomprehensibly powerful, and a son, the would-be inheritor of the family trade, who is showing a disturbing amount of willingness to befriend instead of retreat from her, the family made the decision to excise Alluka not just from where she could "harm" the family power-wise, but also likely to secure their control over Killua, who they then set about practically programming to not have any more wishes for himself, or at least to not be able to vocalize them without fear of loss or retribution.

The family's nickname for Killua is "Kil" or "Killu", which is deeply fascinating to me as a reader - nicknames are expressions of endearment, typically, and I actually don't doubt that here. Killua's family does love him, but their love comes with conditions. He must be molded into the perfect son, and every part of him that doesn't fit must be excised.

So: Killua's memories of Alluka are suppressed with the needle, and she is further cut from his life by dropping the "a" from his name (the Zoldyck children are named like a game of shiratori - Illumi -> Milluki -> Killua -> Alluka -> Kalluto). The nickname is also like a command or order "to kill", which is of course what they want him to do.

Saving Gon through saving Alluka and Nanika forces Killua to have to face down the last and hardest of Illumi's manipulations to shake, and that's the notion that a wish, that kindness and friendship and love, cannot be unconditional without severe repercussions - where the people he cares about get hurt because of him, something he cannot envision being forgiven for.

It's a little sad to me that after spending most of the series struggling against his family's teachings that they didn't lead to Killua betraying Gon at all, as he'd feared... but to him betraying Nanika, by sending her away.

Here is this little girl with a bloodstained past, incredibly powerful and dangerous and capable of amazing feats, treated as some evil thing by those who fear her. But she is kind at heart. Her true strength lies in healing, not killing. And she only takes commands from Killua.

Illumi thinks this is because Killua is the only one with control over her. Killua believes this is because she wants praise. They're both partially correct, but this is not the full reason Nanika does what Killua asks of her.

[ID: Two screenshots from episode 146 of the 2011 anime. In the first, Nanika smiles and says "I love Killua." In the second, Killua looks at her, stricken. End ID.]

Nanika loves him. Everyone has been trying to figure out all these complicated rules and conditions on her wish granting and why Killua is the one exception, but the answer is exceedingly simple. She loves him, and wants to do nice things for him so he can have his wishes granted. It's the only way she knows to get the love that she wants in turn.

Just like her brother, Nanika makes herself useful to earn love and appreciation from someone who accepted her when no one else did.

Even though he knows Nanika just wants to help, he still sees her presence as a danger to the person he sees as pure and innocent who must be protected. He sends her away because her "nature" is to be a threat to Alluka's safety, even if she doesn't intend to be. Killua's fear of Illumi and repercussions causes him to make a horrible mistake.

And Alluka tears into him for it.

[ID: A set of panels from HxH chapter 336. A furious Alluka glares and asks Killua if he made Nanika cry. When Killua stutters, she demands he apologize to her. End ID.]

You tell him, girl.

Oh hey, this looks a little familiar, huh?

"Apologize to Killua!" says Gon to Illumi after Illumi sends Killua away.

Nanika should not be the one punished for the actions of those trying to control her. She certainly shouldn't be forced to leave those she loves, or have to earn love from them.

And neither should Killua.

[ID: Three panels from HxH chapter 336. Alluka yells, tears in her eyes, "If you're going to protect me... you have to protect Nanika too!!" Killua looks shocked, then his eyes widen. End ID.]

It's interesting to me that this is the line that snaps Killua out of his fear enough for him to properly speak with Nanika and apologize. One party cannot receive all the protection, nor can the other only give and give limitlessly.

Killua makes it clear to Nanika when speaking with her that he will protect her, and that she doesn't need to earn affection from people by granting their wishes. He promises they will both be there for each other - Killua will praise her whenever she wants, and not just when she does something for him, but he also doesn't refuse Nanika's desire to grant his wishes. It's mutual, not conditional.

And on the heels of this "betrayal", Killua asks for what he never thought he could receive - forgiveness. And even though Nanika is clearly still very upset...

[ID: Two screenshots from episode 146. In the first, Nanika and Killua face each other, both of them teary. Nanika says "Kay." In the second, he has pulled her into a hug. Nanika is teary, her fingers gripping Killua's back tightly. End ID.]

...she doesn't even have to think about it.

I do think Killua still has a ways to go, but he is in a position right now to learn from his relationship with his sisters about balance - that love is not just selfless devotion, but also allowing those who love you to help you and make you happy too. I think that's what unconditional love is, in a way - supporting and working together with the people you love to make each other's wishes come true.

#oh my god this was supposed to be a brief write-up what happened 😭 #ugh i feel like this is a bit of a mess and there's infinite other little points i could've made or elaborated on or interpreted differentl #but i'm so tired lmao #anyways tldr fuck you illumi you suck #killua is a snarky little shit but he also has so much love in his tiny body and i think we should appreciate him forever and ever #this also accidentally turned into alluka and nanika appreciation. i love them #nanika sweet angel i love you so much i hope you get all the head pats in the world #ghhh i'm so scared this doesn't make sense anymore i've been working on it for almost a week #hunter x hunter #hxh #hxh meta #killua zoldyck #call me ace detective the way i am ace. and also a detective. #storyrambles #also that one scene where gon turns to look directly at killua and tells him he has fun being with him makes me jdfhbvsdjfbvh #he's so intense about it i start laughing. no wonder killua basically just went ??!?!?!?! and like. leaned back because i think i would've #done the same lmaoooo #it's very sweet though :') #argh. gotta post. i need to stop hesitating. let's go.

[royalarchivist]

Everyone this week: *lore, conspiracy theories, long conversations with Cucurucho, multiple attempts to summon the Binary Monster*

Spreen when lore:

#Spreen #ElSpreen #Cucurucho #Osito Bimbo #QSMP #(THIS IS A JOKE) #Spreen and Rubius have both been getting a lot of annoying fans / harassment the past few weeks #Spreen for not being a dad and Rubius because ??? people just don't like his Angel / Demon character. and because of dumb shipping things #But seeing Spreen leaning into the ''nope no lore for me'' joke cracked me up LMAO they've all got such a good sense of humor #Look at that smile he knows EXACTLY what he's doing #NO HESITATION #anyways he logged back on after like 2 minutes and talked to Cucurucho #I'm PRETTY sure he said ''ok guys I'm gonna order some food'' at the end there but not confident enough to write that in the description #Man really just ''NOPE''-ed outta there lmfao #He's also saying ''who's placing blocks?'' at the beginning

[siren-of-agony]

Answers to "please stop"

No.

I can't.

I won't.

I don't want to.

I don't know how.

I will soon.

But then how will you learn?

We're almost done.

It's almost over.

Ask me again!

Oh well, if you're asking that politely…

Fine. For now.

Only once I've come up with something more fun.

Only once you've come up with something more fun.

Or what?

I know you can go a little bit longer.

You know I won't.

I love it when you beg.

I hate it when you beg.

I'm so bored by your begging.

Not until you're too weak to ask me to.

But I don't have anything better to do.

I wish I could.

Alright! See? All you had to do was ask nicely.

I'm not doing anything.

What, exactly?

Just once more, I promise!

Just once more, I promise! (🤞)

You're doing this to yourself.

You wanted this.

You want this.

You know you made me do this.

Are you ready to give me what I want, then?

I will once you give in.

What will you give me in return?

Why should I?

You know there is only one way to end this.

You know there is only one way this will end.

(Answers to "it hurts")

#whump #whump dialogue prompt #whump dialogue #whump prompt #whumblr #i had 2 ppl request a part two to the it hurts one #and i couldnt come up w enough stuff i liked #so here #have this instead #I wrote this all down yesterday when i was trying to fall asleep and i kept coming up w new things so i just kept unlocking my phone and #writing stuff down #i thought i had way less than last time but it's actually much more #granted i rly leaned into the differences just slight wording changes make #also i feel like half of these would do so much better with some sort of term of endearment stapled onto theme #them #so when reading them just imagine some of them with a darling or a sweetheart or a honey tacked onto them bc that's how i imgined them #also if these writing prompts end up on kinblr again and someone accuses me of forgetting safe words just know i'm gonna break into your #house and put mustard in your shoes

[aqueerchronicle]

The Supergirl writers really had the opportunity to give the world the absolute best slow burn/star-crossed/friends to “enemies” to lovers arch imaginable and instead chose to coin the catch phrase “That’s what friends are for!”

At some point it stopped being queer baiting and turned into them being delusional about their own writing lol.

I will die mad about it.

#fight me on this I dare you #they spent half the time leaning into it and the other half trying to write themselves out of it #supercorp #supergirl #kara danvers #kara zor el #lena luthor #katie mcgrath #melissa benoist

[dlartistanon]

Inspired by @gloomspiral's Pozeidi and that one IRL story of the two Chinese fic authors who had a sort-of rivalry due to their opposing writing styles. And then one of them got tsundere when the other was sick and stopped updating

Pozy's outfit is also inspired by Chuzenji's doodles

#arknights #pozemka #dlarts #i can't be arsed to draw pozy's actual outfit #what if we were both pink and writers and eventually have homoerotic tension which stemmed from me roasting your book? #she criticizes heidi's prose because it's 'trashy' and romanticized #heidi writes fluff but is very serious and melancholy #advotya's writing is lean and sobering but she's rather ridiculous #it's okay; they learn more about each other :) #heidi thomson

[lord-squiggletits]

One of my favorite parts of phase 2 (and indeed one of the few moments I resonated with IDW Prowl) was when the neutrals were coming back to Cybertron and Prowl said that he refused to let Autobots be pushed aside and overruled after they were the ones who fought for freedom for 4 million years (the exact wording escapes me atm).

And I mean, that resentment still holds true even once the colonists come on bc like. As much as it's true that Cybertron's culture is fucked up, and as funny as it can be to paint Cybertronians as a bunch of weirdos who consider trying to kill someone as a common greeting not important enough to hold a grudge over.... The colonists POV kind of pissed me off a lot of times, as did the narrative tone/implications that Cybertronians are forever warlike and doomed to die by their own hands bc it just strikes me as an extremely judgemental and unsympathetic way to deal with a huge group of people with massive war PTSD and political/social tensions that were rampant even before the war?

Like, imagine living in a society rife with bigotry and discrimination where you get locked into certain occupations and social strata based on how you were born. The political tension is so bad there's a string of assassinations of politicians and leaders. The whole planet erupts into an outright war that leads (even unintentionally) to famine and chemical/biological warfare that destroys your planet. Both sides of the war are so entrenched in their pre-war sides and resentment for each other that this war lasts 4 million years and you don't even have a home planet any more. Then your home planet gets restored and a bunch of sheltered fucks come home and go "ewww why are you so violent?? You're a bunch of freaks just go live in the wilderness so that our home can belong to The Pure People Who Weren't Stupid And Evil Enough To Be Trapped In War" and then a bunch of colonists from places that know nothing about your history go "lol you people are so weird?? 🤣🤣 I don't get why y'all are fighting can't you just like, stop??? Oh okay you people are just fucked up and evil and stupid then" ((their planets are based on colonialism where their Primes wiped out the native populations btw whereas the Autobots and OP in particular fought to save organics. But that never gets brought up as a point in their favor)) as if the damage of a lifetime of war and a society that was broken even before the war can just magically go away now that the war is over.

Prowl fucking sucks but he was basically the only person that pointed out the injustice of that.

And then from then on out most of the characters from other colonies like Caminus and wherever else are going "i fucking hate you and your conflicts" w/ people like literal-nobody Slide and various Camiens getting to just sit there lecturing Optimus about how Cybertronians are too violent for their own good and how their conflicts are stupid, with only brief sympathetic moments where the Cybertronians get to be recognized as their own ppl who deserve sympathy before going right back to being lambasted.

Like I literally struggled to enjoy the story at multiple points because there was only so much I could take of the characters I knew and loved being raked over coals constantly while barely getting to defend themselves or be defended by the narrative so like. It was just fucking depressing and a little infuriating to read exRID/OP

#squiggposting #and like dont get me wrong barber wasnt trying to make cybertronians the bad guys or whatever #it's just a problem with his writing where like. he has A Message he wants to send #and so he uses the entire story literally just for The Message even if it involves bullshit plotlines #or familiar characters ppl were reading about for the past decade being shit on by OCs made up to fill a new roster #like barber's writing tends to lean way too much on a sort of lecturing tone #without giving proper care towards including moments where characters get to like. fucking express themselves and share their side #sort of like how barber couldnt be bothered to write pyra magna and optimus actually talking to each other during exrid #and instead during OP ongoing pyra is suddenly screaming about how OP is unteachable #even tho she never even tried to teach him bc she and OP never interacted bc i guess barber couldnt be bothered #he just needed someone to lecture OP so fuck making the story make sense or like letting OP get to say anything in defense #this is the infuriating part of barber's writing bc i think he has incredible IDEAS and was in charge of the lore i was most interested in #but most of the time his execution sucks and he's basically just mid with a few brilliant moments occasionally #or like he has a message about the cycle of violence he wants to convey #but his narrative choices trying to convey that theme made his story come off as super unsympathetic to the ppl who suffered #to the point where barber actively kneecapped some scenes that couldve been super fucking intense and emotional #in favor of the characters lecturing each other or some stupid plot to criticize OP #that time in unicron where windblade screamed about how this is their fault and then arcee replied that her planet is build on coloniation #shouldve happened more often than literally the last series of the ocntinuity. like goddamn stfu about your moral superiority #when your own sins are right fhere lol

[klazje]

i think karyn faro reads yaoi on the bridge

#she’s either a fujoshi or a lesbian to me #there is no in between tbh #i lean more towards lesbian #but her and hammerly do write bad fanfiction abt their coworkers (eli and thrawn) when they’re bored #star wars #karyn faro #commodore faro #thrawn #mitth'raw'nuruodo #grand admiral thrawn #thrawn trilogy #thrawn 2017 #thranto #thrawn alliances #thrawn treason #eli vanto #eli n vanto

[somdxr]

wanted to wait a little before i posted this but. oh well

#spam posting cause im sorta going cray cray #exams make me go koo koo guys!! #anyways yea i feel like they Would acknowledge how Stupid they were at some point #like post-bugsnax game #but i dont think their apology to snorpy would go. like that hELP #i've seen some fics explore it better than i did i just leaned towards the shits and giggles cause #im still not toooo confident on my dialogue writing for most all of the bugsnax chars #not confident on my writing in general but. bugsnax has me rambling n spewing writing wise hELP #mightttt. post them but they might just be a friends exclusive #sorry for ramblimg im sleepy #HEEELPP #somdxr draws #bugsnax #bugsnax fanart #floofty fizzlebean #bugsnax floofty #snorpy fizzlebean #bugsnax snorpy #bugsnax art

[writer-room]

I hope wherever Pixal is she's absolutely fine, not because I don't want to see my blorbos hurt, in fact I love when they get fucked up, but specifically for the comedy potential. Because knowing Pixal, there's a high chance she's already completely accepted that Zane has died for the 10th time somewhere and is probably in the midst of trying to find and revive him along with the other ninja. She's entered full "guess Zane's dead again time to cope by not coping at all" mode. She abandoned the grieving stage once she realized this was a common occurrence. The grind never stops, she hasn't seen sunlight in six months, and probably didn't even realize the realms Merged.

Zane, however, is very much not used to being on the other side of "this person I love might be dead or is otherwise missing somewhere". He's moping on the floor. Staring out the window like a victorian maiden. Longing for when his beloved will return from the war. The saddest, soaking wet kitten you ever did see. About to recite poetry at a moments notice. He's given sympathies as well as being mocked endlessly by his annoyed friends because yeah, how does it feel NOW, Zane? FEELS BAD DOESN'T IT

And then they just find each other at a store somewhere in the Crossroads like it's an average Tuesday afternoon. Do you see the vision

#ninjago #ninjago dragons rising #dragons rising #lego ninjago #lego ninjago dragons rising #ninjago dr #pixal #ninjago pixal #pixal borg #ninjago zane #zane julien #text post #talk #ideas #writing ideas #zane being physically pained every time he brings up pixal is angsty but also to me reads like a guy leaning against a window as it rains #or dogs when they give a big tired sigh after they lay down #pixal is just trying to make samurai x again and also find where her dad is. please let her find her dad #she clocks that theres dragons and shrugs like oh well. guess theres dragons now. no biggie #only when she needs new parts does she emerge and go OHHHHH THAT EXPLAINS IT i should catch up on this #and then as shes buying the part she casually looks up from her hood and zanes in his awful disguise w frohicky trying to get the same part #they just kinda blink at each other like. surely it cannot be this fcking easy. SURELY #it is that fcking easy and it would be HILARIOUS #cause zane still looks like he'd be in a great period-drama film and pixal looks like she'd fit in a grunge cyberpunk flick #to be clear this is a bonus for the other to witness