silly blues

hiatus :(

[sillyblues]

navigation.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ blue! ✧˖*°࿐ any prns. 18. requests are closed.

also i may not reply nor reblog your rbs with comments but trust that i appreciate each and every note you leave all the likes, comments, rbs, all that i am kissing you all on your foreheads MWA.

masterlist ✩ request rules

[sillyblues]

the ocean and the wind. (1)

ੈ✩‧₊˚ synopsis: tonowari is the ocean and ronal is the wind. where does it leave you?

ੈ✩‧₊˚ notes: hihi! welcome to my first fic ever I’m so excited!! this is a short series ft. tonowari and ronal x you but this part particularly focuses on your history with tonowari. we’ll meet ronal next real soon and i can’t wait for that. i hope you guys enjoy this and see you soon!! also hi if some of you came across this before, i actually reposted this to a new account so that i can interact with y'all hehe

part 1 (here!) ✩ part 2 ✩ part 3 ✩ part 4 ✩ part 5 ✩ part 6 ✩ part 7 (final part)

Tonowari was like the ocean. Like the Way of the Water your Sa’nok has taught you multiple times, your memories of him had no beginning. You cannot remember how you first met or how you came to be friends. To you, he was always there beside you. Something that astonished you to this day, was a miracle that he had the patience for a wild child like you. From your blurry lines of childhood when he was still an heir until your adulthood when he has become an Olo’eyktan, he was still with you.

He is as gentle as the sea’s soft waves hitting your feet on a fine day, you noticed one day out of the blue when you were younger. As an heir to the position of Olo’eyktan, he was busy with his responsibilities early on. Every day, his early mornings would be filled with studies as his father would teach him the basics of his duties and his mother would teach him the basics of healing. At first, it made you happy for him. He, an Olo’eyktan heir, was finally starting his studies and it would be soon until he becomes one.

“That’s wonderful news, Tonowari!” You say as you hugged him tightly when you first heard the news. He returned the hug with a chuckle. You pull back quickly and looked at him with wonder and excitement in your eyes.

“I am so happy for you!” 

“I am glad to hear that,” He raised a smile, almost in relief at your words. “I thought you would be opposed to it since we would be spending time less.”

“Why would I? You would soon become an Olo’eyktan, the one who will lead and guide our people. It brings me great honour and pride to have my friend as the Olo’eyktan.” You scoffed lightly at his words.“No distance or time would change our friendship. Besides, I will have special rights in the future, no?”

He laughed joyously, his eyes closing for a brief moment before looking at your eyes so deeply. He wrapped his arm around you and rested his forehead against yours. “I hold no promises.”

You giggled. You squeezed his arm thrice.

“I see you, Tonowari.”

“I see you, [Name].”

Months passed by, and you two settled into a rhythm of your own. Him with his duties and you with your own. It was not long after Tonowari’s start of education that you had begun yours as well. Your Sa’nok saw your talent in arts, you had picked up weaving as a hobby after seeing her weave clothes for you and your father after a few times. You always sang and hum under your breath the songs of Eywa and the people. You found joy in dancing with the others. You never noticed these things about yourself but you were happy it did because if it didn't, perhaps you would have felt lonely. With nothing to do and with no one to be with.

You would never dare to admit this out loud, but without Tonowari, you did feel a bit lonely. You had made new friends as you were taught the arts of your clan with other students as well, but Tonowari is a different type of friend, you think. There is a difference between a day without him and a day without them, more so days without him and just a night without them as you would see your new friends the next morning, anyway. 

It was not like meetings between you two have become rare, but it was less than it used to be. Your eyes would meet each other's sometimes if luck would be on your side and your lessons would be shared, but even then, you two can only smile and wave for a bit as the teachers stop for no one.

You did not like this lonely feeling. There is a certain ache in your little heart whenever you think about him and you did not like it at all. You are happy for both on your journeys to become who you wanted to be but you are not happy with the distance and the time you thought it would not affect your friendship. Did it affect only you? Were you the only one who wishes for more time between you two? To be beside one another once more?

You are suddenly reminded of your lessons. 

“Everything belongs to Eywa. There is nothing that belongs to us for we only take what is given to us by the Great Mother. We are only lent Her divine creations. Borrowed.” Your teacher once said. “Selfishness is to take what is not yours. Greedy is to want beyond what is borrowed to you from Eywa.”

“Selfishness and greed corrupt your essences. It is not right to be this way towards our Great Mother for her gifts to us, which is why we must…?” He trailed off to let you and the other students finish his sentence.

“Always be grateful and thankful to Mother Eywa!”

You have done the opposite of what must be done.

Selfish. So selfish. When had you become so greedy? Shame filled your core but it did not erase the longing for him. You are horrified by this feeling. You did not want anyone to know. You dare not tell your mother and father about this, for fear of disappointing them or raising such a self-absorbed child. And you swore to yourself not to tell Tonowari especially because you knew him, perhaps he would not see you as egoistic as you are but he would be burdened with your useless wants.

In shame, you tried getting him out of your mind by focusing more on your studies. You spent more time with your friends, giggling with one another as you talked about whatever came to mind. You spent more time with your family, hearing your mother's boasts about you to your father while she tends his wounds after a successful hunt. You would then hear your father's childish cries as he clings onto to mother and you.

As you have grown closer with others, you have grown distant from him. Days turned into weeks of your successful avoidance. You have seen his figure here and there, but a glimpse of him is enough for you to turn away. In communal activities, you enter last as you begged your family to enter late.  You stay the farthest away from him and stay with your other friends and family instead. The ache in your heart comes back stronger as you ignore his hot-pleading and concerned gazes and attempts to go near you before you leave each time. 

Oh, Eywa, you begged, I am so sorry. Please forgive my thoughts and the ugliness I have borne in my soul.

Please let him know nothing of this.

Please do not let him see me.

It was early morning and you stood alone not too far from your clan in the sea with your feet touching its water. The sun had not risen yet so not many had woken up yet, allowing you to be alone. You did not like being lonely but here you are, awake in the early hours just so you could be by yourself. 

You tried to focus on the ocean. You closed your eyes and felt the soft waves hitting your toes, almost caressing them but you are reminded of Tonowari’s soft touches, his gentle pats on your back as he comforts you, on your shoulder as he tries to bring you back to reality, and on your head just because. You tried to think about the warmth of the water, but you are reminded of Tonowari’s warmth instead as he hugs and cuddles with you, as he holds your hand in your adventures, and as he simply stays right beside you.

You snap your eyes back open in a panic. Oh. Oh no.

You felt a touch on your shoulder and you whipped your head around as you breathe in a gasp. There, you found the subject of your shame. Your selfishness. Your horror. You immediately took a step back and further into the ocean, but Tonowari did not let you escape him as he quickly grabbed your arm. His beautiful pale blue eyes which were always soft like he was incapable of glaring stared deeply into yours. You look away in fear of seeing him. You did not want to know what he think of you so you looked away just as you have always done.

“[Name].” Not once have you forgotten his voice that was neither too soft nor too stern. It was just right as he conversed among the people of your clan. His voice was smooth enough for the people to easily approach him for anything be it troubles they faced or simple light conversation about their days. But now, it is low and thick full of shaky emotions you do not want to know hidden in his clear tone.

“Tonowari. Please, let go of me–”

“No. Not until you tell me the reason for your hatred towards me.” Hatred? What on earth was he saying? You turned your head and looked at him in disbelief. 

“What? I do not hate you, Tonowari.” You say.

“Lies. You are angry with me. You do not want to see me anymore. You do not want to be with me.” There is hurt in his voice. In just a few words, the defences you built carefully to shield yourself away from him had shattered. What was supposed to be anger, there is only pain and the same longing you have for him. 

“I do, Tonowari! I want to be with you badly! Eywa knows how much I missed you so deeply.” Your outburst surprised him greatly, seeing his eyes widen at this. 

“Every day, I wished for us to be together once more. I was always lonely without you. No one compares to you, your absence hurts more than no other. Eywa knows all I wanted was you.” You began sobbing, finally letting the truth out of your body. “But it is not right.”

You pushed him away but he never let go of your arms. He never did despite your insistence to be away.

“I was being selfish. It is not right. You are not mine to be selfish with. You are the future Olo’eyktan and I am nothing.” The shame burns hot. You wanted to run away and never appear again before him or your parents or your people. “So please, leave me alone and I promise not to be ever greedy once more.”

He was silent for a few seconds, but to you, it felt like a long time. Your heart raced in thoughts that he must have hated you now. Disappointed in you now. But his palm you remembered as smooth and didn’t know when it had turned rough, caressed your cheek ever so gently and you look at him, finally seeing him.

And oh, how beautiful he is.

The sun was rising. Its soft golden rays hit his big figure that had grown bigger than yours, that you missed in your avoidance of him. The sun highlighted his stripes markings that you missed tracing against his skin. His freckles glow so brightly. He held your hand with his free one and rested your forehead against his.

“I am Tonowari, and you are [Name]. Not Olo’eyktan, not nothing.” He says while staring at you. He squeezes your hand thrice.

“I see you, [Name].”

“I see you, Tonowari.”

Like the sea on a fine day, he is gentle. Like its waves hitting against your legs, his caresses on you are soft. Like its warmth, his’ comforts you with his presence alone. Like the sound of its water surging on the shore, he is neither too soft nor too loud, just enough for you to hear him completely. 

Like the ocean, Tonowari is gentle.

[sillyblues]

omg its been a long time since i finished this series anw this has been getting some attention lately so im reblogging for readers to find i miss avatar so bad I MIS MY BITCHESS UGHGUGAHAH let me watch the movie first hawl awn‼️‼️

[kikyoupdates]

The Quotev Situation

Hello everyone, it's Rin here. I'm sure that everyone is aware of the situation regarding Quotev. Kikyo's accounts have been deleted from the platform. I assure you that this is not of her own will and they were deleted wrongfully by Quotev.

Kikyo has been on the platform for a long time and has suffered many forms of targeted harassment and hatred from the quotev administration.

We ask that during this time you send an assertive (not aggressive) report to Quotev telling them about the issue and to please help Kikyo get her accounts back.

Her other platforms such as Wattpad and A03 are also active and you can find them here. Until the quotev situation is resolved, updates will be posted here as well as A03.

fanfiction wattpad original yandere stories wattpad a03

This situation has completely devasted her as well as her fans. Please support her in this time and follow her as well as bring this injustice to light. We also ask that you spread awareness and react/reblog his post so that everyone who has read her work can be notified. Please follow her wattpad and a03 accounts to get notified of story updates and join the discord server for updates regarding this issue.

Thank you so much for all the support. We appreciate every single one of you.

[yosefgaza35]

Hello my friends, I am Youssef's family from Gaza 🍉💔 Today we are living in a real famine. I ask you to help me with a donation in order to collect the price of a bag of flour, which has reached 300 pounds due to the famine. We need to buy it urgently. My children have not eaten bread for 10 days due to the high price of a bag of flour. We are living in the shadow of genocide and severe hunger. We are in a state of famine. I swear to you that my children and I are hungry. Please do not ignore me. I am in dire need of a donation to survive. 💔💔💔 My friends, if everyone who sees this post donates a little, we will be able to collect the price of a bag of flour. My campaign is successful. ✅️Vetted by @gazavetters, my number verified on the list is ( #591 )✅️ So that you can help my family, please everyone who sees this, do not ignore the suffering of my children. Be a reason to feed my hungry children. I would be very grateful for your help.🙏

Donate to Youssef and his family need your support., organised by Kirsty Watson

I am kirsty, I am from England, I met Youssef through volunteer work with Ebon… Kirsty Watson needs your support for Youssef and his family

[gazavetters]

قائمةالحملات الموثقة والمعتمدة

هام: غزة – لأصحاب الحملات الموثقة والموجودين في قائمة انتظار التوثيق

هذا المنشور يتناول النقاط التالية:

1. طلبات التوثيق الجديدة: الآلية المتبعة للتوثيق السريع.

لضمان السرعة والسهولة في إضافة الحملات إلى قوائمنا، مع الحفاظ على المصداقية في التحقق، سنعتمد أسلوبًا جديدًا في التوثيق، كالآتي:

كيفية تقديم الطلب:

يُرجى إرسال رسالة لحسابنا في @gazavetters تتضمن التفاصيل التالية:

✓ اسم صاحب الحملة (باللغة الإنجليزية)

✓ رقم الجوال أو الهوية الوطنية

✓ رابط الحملة

✓ جديد: صورة حديثة تجمع الأشخاص المذكورين في تفاصيل الحملة (لا يشترط ظهور جميع الأفراد، لكن يُفضل أن تكون الصورة تمثل نصف الأشخاص المذكورين في الحملة على الأقل). يجب أن تكون الصورة في مكان معلوم مثل خيمتك، منزلك، أو أي مكان له علاقة بتفاصيل الحملة. كما يُشترط وجود ورقة مكتوب عليها gazavetters وتاريخ اليوم.

ملاحظة مهمة : الاشخاص الي يرسلون صور مرة بدون ورقة ومرة ورقة لحالها .. يقراء هالشىء ١٠مرات

صورة حديثة للاشخاص المذكورين بالقصة في الخيمة او بيت او اية مكان يوحي ويثبت انك في غزة مع ورقة مكتوب عليها تاريخ اليوم واسم gazavetters في نفس الصورة والصورة بالاسفل اشبه للكلام الي مش مفهوم للبعض

ملاحظة مهمة:

يُرجى إرسال جميع البيانات المذكورة أعلاه متتالية في رسالة واحدة. سنعمل بسرعة كبيرة على توثيق الحملات المرسلة إلينا والموجودة في قوائم الانتظار.

2. القواعد والقوانين وضوابط الاستخدام السليم للتطبيق: لتجنب الإضرار بالآخرين أو الإساءة لأي شخص، وما يترتب على المخالفين من عقوبات. (على الأقل للقائمة الخاصة بنا، وسنسعى لتطبيقها أيضًا على القوائم الموثوقة الأخرى بالتنسيق مع أصدقائنا المسؤولين عنها).

وذلك لحماية الحملات وضمان احترام الآخرين وعدم الإضرار بالمجتمع الداعم، نُؤكد على الالتزام بالقواعد التالية:

1. عدم التعليق بطلب المساعدة في منشورات الآخرين:

لا يجوز استخدام منشورات الآخرين، سواء المتعلقة بفلسطين أو بموضوعات أخرى، لنشر تعليقات استغاثة أو طلب مساعدة. هذا السلوك يضر بالجميع، وقد يؤدي إلى حظر أصحاب الحملات أو إغلاق التعليقات على المنشورات، مما يسيء إلى صورة الحملات الفلسطينية عامة.

2. عدم ابتزاز المدونات الداعمة وغير الداعمة:

تلقينا شكاوى من مدونات أجنبية حول محاولات ابتزاز وشتم. أي شخص يثبت قيامه بذلك سيُعاقب بتدابير صارمة لضمان عدم تكرار هذه السلوكيات.

3. الامتناع عن الإشارة (منشن) إلى المدونات المُغلقة للتواصل:

عند الحاجة، يُمكنك ذكر المدونات في منشوراتك فقط وبطريقة محترمة، دون إحراج أو تهديد.

4. عدم نشر منشورات تهديد أو اتهام للمدونات:

لا يحق لك اتهام أو تهديد أي مدونة لم تستجب لطلبك.

عقوبات المخالفين:

في حال مخالفة القواعد، سيتم وضع ملاحظات بجانب اسم الحملة في القوائم، مثل:

"احذر التعامل مع هذه الحملة بسبب سوابق ابتزاز الناشرين".

"احذر التعامل مع هذه الحملة بسبب سوابق إزعاج الناشرين المتكرر".

"احذر التعامل مع هذه الحملة بسبب سوابق نشر استغاثته على منشورات الآخرين".

"احذر التعامل مع هذه الحملة بسبب سوابق تهديد الأشخاص".

ستُكتب هذه الملاحظات باللون الأحمر وبوضوح.

ملاحظة ختامية:

الالتزام بهذه القواعد يُساهم في تقديم صورة محترمة ومشرّفة عن فلسطين وغزة. كن داعمًا بطريقة تليق بحاجتك للمساعدة دون الإضرار بسمعتك أو سمعة بلدك.

list of vetted & approved campaign

Important: Gaza – For Verified Campaign Owners and Those on the Verification Waiting List

This post addresses the following points:

1. New Verification Requests: Streamlined Verification Process

To ensure speed and ease in adding campaigns to our lists while maintaining credibility, we are introducing a new verification method as follows:

How to Submit Your Request:

Please send a message to our account on "gazavetters" containing the following details:

✓ The campaign owner's name (in English).

✓ Phone number or national ID.

✓ Campaign link.

✓ New Requirement: A recent photo showing the individuals mentioned in the campaign details. (It is not necessary to include all individuals, but the photo should represent at least half of the people mentioned.) The photo should be taken in a recognizable location, such as your tent, home, or any place related to the campaign details. Additionally, a piece of paper with "GazaVetters" and today's date written on it must be visible in the photo.

Important Note:

Please send all the above-mentioned details in one message. We will expedite the verification process for campaigns submitted to us, especially those on the waiting list.

2. Rules, Regulations, and Proper Use of the Platform

To avoid harm or offense to others and to ensure fairness, the following rules must be adhered to. Violators may face penalties within our list, and we will coordinate with trusted lists to extend enforcement:

1. No Commenting to Seek Assistance on Others' Posts:

It is prohibited to use others’ posts, whether about Palestine or other topics, to comment with pleas or requests for help. This behavior harms everyone and could result in campaign owners being banned or comment sections being closed, tarnishing the reputation of Palestinian campaigns in general.

2. No Harassment or Blackmailing of Supporting or Non-Supporting Accounts:

We have received complaints from foreign accounts about attempts at blackmail or insults. Anyone found guilty of such behavior will face strict penalties to prevent recurrence.

3. Do Not Tag (Mention) Closed Accounts to Communicate:

If necessary, you may mention accounts respectfully in your posts without embarrassment or threats.

4. Do Not Post Threatening or Accusatory Content About Accounts:

You are not allowed to accuse or threaten any account that has not responded to your request.

Penalties for Violations:

If any of these rules are violated, notes will be added beside the campaign's name in the lists, such as:

"Avoid this campaign due to prior incidents of blackmailing publishers."

"Avoid this campaign due to repeated nuisance to publishers."

"Avoid this campaign due to prior incidents of seeking help in others' posts."

"Avoid this campaign due to previous threats to individuals."

These notes will be written in red and clearly displayed.

Final Note:

Adherence to these rules contributes to presenting a respectful and honorable image of Palestine and Gaza. Support in a manner that reflects your need for assistance without tarnishing your reputation or that of your country.

[sillyblues]

The strongest Jujutsu Sorcerer, Gojo Satoru, but also the weakest human.

Gojo can hollow purple a curse whenever and wherever and activate his domain one billion times a day, but he cannot stutter even a syllable out of his affections. He can wipe an enemy out without so much as looking at it in the eye or even lifting a pinky, but fuck, he can’t look at you straight in the eyes when you look at him with wide eyes and tilt your head. He doesn’t know what to do, only flushing red which he hopes you don’t notice when your pinky fingers brush against each other as you two walk side by side.

So he only does what he does best. Show off. 

You see that, [Name]? Didn’t even take a minute. Bet you can’t even do the same. Heh.  Well, what can I say? You’re weak.

So why don’t you just lean on me—

Hey. Where are you going?

Why aren’t you looking at me anymore?

[blasting-the-bee-movie-script-d]

It's with a heavy but hopeful heart that I watch Palestinian families fundraiser on here, slowly accumulating the precious little money to go around that they need to survive. However, not everyone is so lucky. A lot of Palestinians that have not had that kind of luck, that did not get early verification, that did not get massive platforms behind them from large bloggers, have approached me in my inbox, asking me kindly to do what I can for them. It kills me that I have so little to give myself, but I've seen this platform collectively raise enough to change someone's life. I've made a list of Palestinian fundraisers that are extremely low on funds, in the hope that drawing attention to people who have not been lucky at all can help turn that luck around. I know most of us can't possibly give enough to get all of these families safe in one go. But please, reblog this list. Pick one or two fundraisers, give what you can, and then keep track of it. Slowly, collectively, we can make a difference in these people's lives. Share and donate as much as you can. https://docs.google.com/document/d/178EGDFKkHlh3y4TMVX82kqgITHsqtoMdNccI2f_94Os/edit?usp=sharing

[komsomolka]

Low On Funds Palestinian Fundraisers

LOW ON FUNDS: Ahmed Halas fundraiser Maher fundraiser Mohammed Alwadiya fundraiser Mohammed Ayyad fundraiser Shady Samir Ashour fundraiser

!!!

[emanzaqout]

Dear friends, family, and compassionate supporters,

My name is Eman Zaqout, from Occupied Gaza, Palestine. I am contacting you at a really desperate and urgent moment.

Forced to flee with nothing but the clothes on our backs, now we are staying near a new displacement camp in the south, lacking access to sanitation, medical supplies, food and drinkable water. Over time, the situation here has become more dire and unbearable, without a source of income, without electricity, just destruction, bombing, starvation, and extermination that does not stop day and night. I am writing while feeling helpless and ashamed. I have never imagined that one day I would collect donations to get out of this crisis, to save myself and my family from death.

Please donate and share this with friends and colleagues and thank you for standing with us.

@nabulsi @90-ghost @ibtisamsa @fairuzfan @fallahifag @vakarians-babe @plomegranate @communistchilchuck @self-hating-zionist @thenewinquiry @kordeliiius @rizzyluke @bluebellsinthedells @northgazaupdates @northgazaupdates2 @just-browsing1222

[90-ghost]

Donate to Help my family survive famine and have secure life, organized by Mazin Fakak

Dear friends, family, and compassionate supporters, My name is Eman Za… Mazin Fakak needs your support for Help my family survive famine an

[sillyblues]

I hope you're doing okay, can't help but to worry about my favorite writer and how they're doing -🦇

hiiiiii bb thanks for worrying about lil ol' me im☹️😭, im trying to find some inspiration to write again so yeye im fine :DD i hope you're doing great anon ilysm take care!!! 🫶🏼🫶🏼

[sillyblues]

Hey, how’s your day/night going? And by any chance do you have a timeframe of when chapter one of the hidden pregnancy is going to be released? Have a good rest of your day/night!

hiii sorry for only replying now, been feeling bit burned out so im taking lost on you (and the same goes for all the reqs) slow for now. i might publish one in around two weeks or more but i can't promise you that. i really appreciate your support but i hope you understand my current situation :((

[sillyblues]

Please tag whether your readers are fem gn or male :////

hi! thanks for telling me this, i forgot to put a label on pecador but it's a gn reader i miswrote one pronoun. thanks for telling me this :)

[sillyblues]

Dude… conchata O’Hara is canonically abusive and neglectful to Miguel. If you’re gonna write for a character you claim to like at least know a little bit about them??

hello! first of all, i actually based the miguel o'hara i write in the movies with miles morales and not the one in the comics. no info about his parents was said in the movie so i relied on my imagination to fill that up. second of all, this is a fan fiction. and fan fiction most of the times is very different from canon if you didn't know. i am not going for the canon because if i was, then the miguel in pecador wouldn't be a mafia related murderer turned priest. third of all, if you're so obsessed with canon maybe you could think of it as another universe where the mom was actually nice? or go read the comics and not fan fics idk.

not everything has to be canon because i am not an original marvel creator nor writer. if you're so devastated about my inaccurate miguel o'hara, why don't you request a more accurate one to me? :))

[sillyblues]

‘pecador.’

synopsis— you bring the sinner out of miguel o’hara

cw— religious themes, blood, mild nsfw, 18+

“En el nombre del Padre,”

Miguel O’Hara was a sinner. Violence has always resided in his soul, along with anger that bubbled in his veins. It was evidently clear to him and everyone, even back then when he was younger. He could barely remember his first memories of joy with his mother nor a play with his brother, but he could remember vividly when he threw a punch at somebody who told him that he and his mother and brother were dirty.

And ever since then, he has not learned of a moment filled with peace. His father berated him and punched him as well because how dare he hurt the son of his boss. Because of it, his father had been fired, and they had no money anymore. But Miguel didn’t care. How could he when that little shit insulted his mother in front of him? He let his father vent his anger and frustrations on him. 

“Y del Hijo,”

But a mother’s love was great, and his own mother couldn’t bear to see her son getting hurt, so she tried to stop him. She took her in his arms and protected him from his father. But she shouldn’t have done that. He wished his mother stayed put in place and come to him when his father was done with him. But she didn’t because her love for him was great.

His father grew furious at the sight of his wife hiding his son away from him and in wrath, he hurt Miguel’s mother as well. The slaps and the punches and the hair pulls were thrown at his mother and he knew it was painful. He tried to pull away from her as his eyes were wide and tears streamed down. He begged his father to stop and asked him to forgive him, he sobbed as he said to him to hurt him instead, just not his mom. But despite it all, his father turned a deaf ear to his pleads and his mother’s embrace was tight just so he would not get hurt.

“Y del Espíritu Santo,”

His father’s anger was a large fire that evaporated away his family’s water of tears but Miguel’s resentment was a burning fiery hell only reserved for his father. His rage was molten and flowed through like lava and it pulsed within his heart and consumed his rationality. His fury blinded him and he didn’t know what he had done until he regained his vision momentarily back to see his mother crying.

“Miguel, escúchame,” his mother whispered to him with a tremble as she took the bloodied knife that he didn’t know he was holding from his arms. He looked at his hands soaked in red and furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

“My baby boy, thank you for protecting Mama,” she hugged him and rocked him back and forth as she sobbed. Like instinct, he hugged her back weakly. “I love you so much, I want you to know that.”

“Be strong for me and for your little brother, okay? He has no one but you. Take care of him and yourself, alright?” her soft voice was full of sadness and he desperately wanted to look up to her and comfort her. He wanted to tell her that he also loved her very much and he will but like a lullaby, her voice sent a wave of sleepiness and his vision darkened.

But he couldn’t help it and then, he fainted. When he woke up in a hospital room with his little brother, Gabriel, snuggled beside him, nurses and the police greeted him. There, he knew his mother killed herself.

“Amen.”

He took his mother’s words to his heart and swore that he would protect his brother. He did not let anyone take him or his brother or relied on adults because he trusted nobody. He appealed to the court at 16 years old that he could take care of himself and his brother. Fortunately, he was approved and he took multiple jobs to sustain their needs. He didn’t go to school, no, he didn’t have any time but he made sure that Gabriel did. He worked tirelessly sleeping barely 5 hours a day just to bring food to the table and have a roof over their heads. But despite his busy schedule, he made sure to be there on Gabriel's important days.

Years went by and they had formed a mundane lifestyle. And he tried so hard to keep it that way. But violence resided in his soul and the sinner in him was rekindled once more when his brother was found dead one early morning. He received a call when he was about to go to work and rushed to the crime scene when he heard the news. When he saw Gabriel’s lifeless body and the blood that pooled around him, the remaining hope in his heart was crushed and rage once more visited him and burned fiercely. The police ruled it as suicide as he was found in an alleyway in between buildings. But Miguel knew that it wasn't because of his brother who was so happy and talked his ear off about graduating and becoming a billionaire so he could support him and would never give up on life like that.

“Padre nuestro,”

Miguel decided to join the underworld where mafias and gangs ran about. He took jobs there not only for quick cash but to form connections and information. He investigated more about his brother's death and found out that he was bullied for a long time by a group of kids his age. Apparently, they picked on him because he was sorry for being dirty and a son of a filthy murderer. There was evidence on the autopsy that was not reported that he was burned, with cuts and bruises littered all over his body. A camera evidence that was also not submitted and was deleted (but luckily saved by the corrupt authorities who tried to keep it as a blackmail opportunity) showed that they pushed Gabriel to his death and they all laughed about it. Not only that but he wasn't their only victim.

Miguel felt so angry at himself and guilty that he didn't know that behind his brother's insistence on being covered up from head to toe, lies numerous wounds. Knowing him, he probably didn't tell him so he wouldn't worry about him. He wished he did. He wished Gabriel was a little more selfish and made him worry about him instead because he would protect him better.

With this, he took his time to learn more about the arrogant pricks that murdered his brother. He moved to a different city, to Nueva York, so that he had an alibi. He stalked the conceited brats who did the same to numerous people and their rich parents who didn’t give a shit whether their children murdered someone. He learned their routine. Their schedule. And when the time was right, he put a bullet through their heads one by one when they least expected it. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, come on man, I’m sorry,” they begged with tears and snot dripping, crawling backwards under his shadow. “Don’t kill me, please, I’ll give you anything.”

“Money? Do you want money? I’ll give you hundreds and thousands,” they always said the same thing, thinking that money was enough for him to forgive the suffering they had caused to his remaining family that they took away, the bruises and cuts on his brother’s body, the damage they had done on him mentally. “No? Half a billion? No, no! One billion!”

His jaw clenched. Pathetic pigs. He cocked and aimed it at them.

“No, no, no! NO—!” they stuttered and screamed but were cut off by the sound of a bullet fired by a gun with a muffler.

He wondered if they at least felt some remorse or at the very least thought about how Gabriel or the other kids they tortured and killed felt as they begged them to not hurt them. But he knew people like them, he had seen them countless times including his very own father. People like them didn’t care about anything or anyone other than themselves. These kids were just the same as them.

He made sure to clean up his tracks, deleted potential shreds of evidence, and made some story that would make their case solved and closed easily. He left the city swiftly and came back to his new home. With this, he tried to leave his old past behind and began his life anew.

“Que estás en el cielo.”

Miguel hated himself. He hated the fact that he killed his father which resulted in the death of his mother so that nobody will know that he killed him. He hated the fact that he was so ignorant of his brother's suffering that he had to be pushed to his death for him to realize that his brother was in pain. He hated the monster he turned out to be, always out for blood and killing people like it was nothing.

The sea of guilt and remorse suffocated him and he drowned himself in alcohol and women. The money he saved up which was supposed to be for Gabriel’s graduation gift was used on his vices. 

Day and night, his sins weighed heavy on his mind and not once, was he given at least a moment of peace.

“Santificado sea tu nombre.”

A knock snapped Miguel out of a trance as he smoked out of the window of his apartment. The wispy grey stench wafted in the air as he raised an eyebrow, wondering without much interest who could be knocking on his door. It couldn’t be the landlord as he just paid his month’s due. His past flings? Probably.

Knock. Knock.

He took another drag and inhaled as much as he could before he exhaled and extinguished it on the ashtray full of ashes and butts of leftover cigarettes.

“Alright, alright. I’m coming.”

He opened the door and found nobody, but a baby in a basket with a letter sticking out of the blankets wrapped around it. The sight of the baby filled him with anxiety and dread. He looked sideways, hoping to at least find who put the baby on his door but only the sight of closed doors greeted him. He had an inch of what was happening and he did not like it one bit. 

With a shaky sigh, he took the baby and cradled it in his arms. God, he didn’t even know its gender. But the sight of him made the baby giggle and coo at him and he bit his lip. Fuck. He opened the letter with his other hand and the words written on it confirmed his suspicions.

“It’s your baby, Miguel. You were the last one I hooked up with before I found out I was pregnant and even then, it was too late. She was too grown and I cannot abort her anymore. I don’t have any papers of her because I have no money and I can’t raise her.”

Miguel could feel a migraine forming and he rubbed his forehead. The baby must have found his distress amusing because it giggled once more and tried to grab his fingers. 

No. She. Not it. 

Fuck.

Miguel wasn’t ready to be a dad, he doesn’t even think he was suited to be one because he was a piece of shit but he took another look at her that was so snug and comfortable in his arms as she looked at him with wonder, he thought it wouldn’t be so bad to try to take care after her.

“Venga tu reino.”

A few years passed by and Miguel accepted his role as a father. He named the baby Gabriella after his late brother. He got into therapy and went back to work so he could raise her with no financial problems and so that he wouldn’t be a bad father to her. Gabriella was a handful child. He slept countless sleepless nights, often waking up early in the morning because she was crying. Sometimes it was because she was hungry, sometimes she just needed help to digest the milk, and sometimes there wasn’t any particular reason for her cries. But still, he cradled her in his embrace and sang lullabies to her softly.

It felt like it was just yesterday Miguel opened the door and found her on his doorstep. Gabriella has grown into a bright young child. She took after his looks as she inherited almost all of her genes from him. 

Oh, she was so lovely. She was the best of him, better than him and Miguel liked that because she deserved better. She made him believe that he wasn’t the worst piece of trash and that he wasn’t useless. She made him feel loved and he made sure she felt loved as well.

She was very much into soccer and he was so proud of her. He attended all of her games without a miss, winner or not. He was there with her by her side, teaching her how to be kind enough to not hurt anybody and allow herself to be hurt. He taught her to be emotional yet to also remain logical. He taught her to tell him anything yet also let her remain her own privacy.

Miguel loved her very much and she loved him very much as well. 

“Hágase tu voluntad en la tierra como en el cielo.”

But he was a sinner and there will be time that his sins would catch up to him. He understood this one day when he got home one afternoon as he got home after work and was greeted by his child, his precious baby, his Gabriella’s lifeless body in her blood.

The tears came fast and thick. He immediately cradled her into his arms and rocked her back and forth. He begged her to wake up, to open her eyes for Papa. To surprise him that this was just a prank. Or a dream. Anything.

Please, wake up. You can’t die yet. I haven’t lived the rest of my life with you yet. I haven’t seen you on your quinceañera yet or your graduation or the first time you get a job. I haven’t seen you get married or surprise me with grandchildren. 

I haven’t seen you live your life yet.

Please. Don’t do this to me.

“Danos hoy nuestro pan de cada día.”

Violence has always resided in his soul and with his daughter’s death, he committed his one last vengeance. He visited his old life once more. He got back with his connections and his trusted friends gave him whatever he needed in exchange for nothing and as their condolences.

The killers of his daughter were related to his previous crimes. They were related to the families of the people he killed and they decided to kill his daughter as their revenge.

And in return, hunted them all down. He hunted all families down and despite all the scars, all the sharp cuts, all the black and blue bruises, and all the bullets that pierced him, he never gave up and killed them all. Multiple mafia familias were down and he made sure that they couldn’t even think of getting revenge and that all they could do was bow before him.

“Hahaha, you son a bitch,” one cackled as he spat on him, “you deserve it all.”

“You heartless bitch, you’re the reason why all your family’s dead. Fucking cunt, you think you can revive them? Dream on.” he babbled his useless mouth on and wheezed.

“I know.” How could Miguel not know? For not one second that had gone by, he could never ever forget how he killed his family.

“Your death will not bring my family alive but it will make sure that any other families won’t be killed.” And with that, he pulled the trigger and let the loud sound of the gun resonate through the room. His head spat out red and some solids of his brain decorated the wall behind him. His blood dripped down and it joined the pool of the blood of the other corpses that lay dead in the room. The rays of the rising sun shone through the window and it gleamed on the pool of red. Silence filled the room and only the sound of his breaths remained.

Miguel’s eyes gave up suddenly and he fell to the ground on his knees with a harsh thud. With a tear, his shoulders loosened.

Finally. It’s over. Everything’s over.

Miguel should be glad that all of his enemies were gone and nobody would even dare to hurt him anymore but what does it all matter when everyone he held dear was gone?

“Perdona nuestras ofensas,”

Due to the rules of the underworld, the top dogs with Miguel O’Hara leading, their identities would be hidden and they would not be allowed to surrender themselves to the government as it could overthrow the black society altogether. Partly because of this, he turned to God and moved to a quaint town. He became a priest with the sole purpose of repentance and earning forgiveness for his sins. He didn't know if he was asking God to forgive him or his family who died because of him to forgive his carelessness in protecting them.

It was ironic really because he never really believed in God despite the nightly mass he, his brother, and his mother used to have. The words he uttered were redundant, merely sounds he couldn't understand nor tried to. When his mother died, he and Gabriel did the nightly mass in honour of their late mother. And when he died, he could only attend Sunday mass in the church with Gabriella because of the ache of missing his mother and brother yet still continue the tradition of being faithful to God. He wanted her to grow up good and kind so he taught her the values and morals of being a Catholic despite not fully believing in God.

A hypocrite, that's what he was and usually thought about as he led the mass during his schedule.

And he still was when a quiet mysterious woman moved into town. 

You.

“Como también nosotros perdonamos a los que nos ofenden.”

You appeared so suddenly out of nowhere in this town. He lived in the Church but in such a small town, words tend to spread easily. In just two days of your arrival, he already heard of a young woman who had just moved in. 

Miguel was a bit wary as this town barely had any people. Most residents were grandparents or older parents who were already retired and their children who left to move to the cities for bigger opportunities and education. He didn't know what you were thinking about coming here. Were you sent here by the underworld? No, it can't be. He was protected by his friends who ruled the underworld now. Did you have a past like him? Were you running away from something? He sighed as he shook his head. Then again, it was none of his business and it was most definitely not his right to pry.

The next Sunday was the first time he saw you. You sat there at the back, ushered by your neighbours, he presumed. In rows of people, you stood out so brightly. Your back was straight, there was elegance so blatant despite the plain clothes you wore. He met your gaze one too many times and noticed the way you hung onto every word he uttered.

And when the mass had ended he stayed around longer this time and talked with the locals a bit more. And without a doubt, your new friend introduced him to you.

“Oh good morning, Father O’Hara! Wonderful mass, by the way, I loved the homily, well, as usual, it really reflected my situation now with my son in college. Do you still remember?” Mrs. Lorraine greeted him with a handshake.

“Oh for God’s sake, Lorraine, yes Father still remembers that and I’m sure he appreciated that you love it. Don’t forget you’re here to introduce [Name] to him.” Mrs. Eleanor said, cutting Miguel off before he could even reply.

“Oh! Dear me, why yes,” with widened eyes, she laughed, “Yes, forgive me.”

“Father, this is [Name]. They just moved in here and I invited them to join the church.” she moved her body to show your figure and Miguel finally had a close look upon you. Your eyes stared at him and for a second, he felt like there were just the two of you. You looked at him with wonder and curiosity and Dios mío, you looked so innocent and he was reminded of the darkness that exists from within him. He felt like one touch and he could corrupt you easily. He clenched his jaw and furrowed his brow, desperately hiding any tremor in his composure.

“[Name], this is Father Miguel O’Hara. He moved into this town a little while ago and clearly, one of our only priests.”

“Oh, good morning, Father Miguel.” Christ, your voice was soft as a wind that tickled his heart. You held out your hand to him. “It's nice to meet you.”

“Good morning.” He nodded stiffly. He took your hand and shook it.

Even your palm was smooth and he forced the thought down to hold your hand longer.

“No nos dejes caer en tentación y líbranos del mal.”

You were kind. Endlessly so. You sponsored this town’s community event alongside donations to the church anonymously but everybody knew it was you. Everyone just decided to keep their silence to respect your decision in keeping your identity. 

You preferred to listen to others and learn more about them rather than talk about yourself. You always asked how everyone was doing and gave them gifts under the excuse of it being old despite it polished brand new. Whenever children or the grandchildren of the locals visited, you always stopped by their house and gave them little gifts as well.

Miguel had seen you interact with children multiple times whenever he was doing groceries and pass by at yours, he saw you giggling along with the children. He saw you reading books to them under the shade of a tree and rays of sunlight would gently decorate your faces and the winds would play with your hair. He saw you happy and the children happy with you as well.

And his heart throbbed at the sight of you each time but he swallowed the feelings forcibly down as his grip on the steering wheel tightened.

“Amén.”

He hated you.

He hated the way you invoke feelings in him. He hated the way you tempt him unknowingly and he cannot blame you to take any responsibility for the way you make him feel. He hated the way you make him want to sin again, to unleash the beast inside him he had caged for so long but for another different reasons entirely which was you.

He was a priest, someone who he tried so hard not to sin but you make him falter in his beliefs so effortlessly.

So he hid himself who had become a sinner once more just at the thoughts of you.

“En el nombre del Padre,”

But he was so weak for you.

After a mass one sunday morning, you asked him if you could have a talk with him just the two of you and somewhere private. Miguel knew he should have said no. He should have turned you away and pretend he has not been watching you from afar and from the corner of his eye. But he was weak for you and before he knew it, he let you in on his office room.

“Father Miguel, why are you ignoring me?” you asked so suddenly and he knew it was coming. He has turned away from you, pretending he doesn’t see you coming and would walk the other way. But he was still caught off guard. You leaned closer to him he could smell your delicious scent. He leaned away because his patience with you was just so little he might lose his hard-earned control.

“Pardon me, but you’re getting too close.” He said with gritted teeth and tight fists. You looked hurt at that. With widened eyes that were soon filled with dejection, you slowly rubbed your arm. Guilt flooded his being and as much as he wanted to apologize, he couldn’t. Any second with you drove him insane and he could only take so much of this. He didn’t want to lose his reason, his morals, his values as a Priest. He couldn’t bear to. But any more second with you, he just might lose it all for you. You bit your lip.

“Why do you hate me so much?” you whispered with small tears welling up your eyes and Miguel hated himself more. There was nothing more he wanted to do at the moment than to hold you and wipe your tears away himself. But he can’t. It’s wrong. Priests don’t get close like that to their fellow believers. 

“I don’t hate you—” he sighed as he looked away but you cut him off.

“Then why do you look away from me? Am I so undeserving for you to not look me in the eye? Am I so disgusting for you to get close to me? Am I so inadequate and worthless for you to treat me like you treat others?” you said harshly at him while tears slipped your eyes. You took a step at him with every word you said and he took a step back in every step you took until his back was pushed to the wall behind him. “So do not tell me that you don’t hate me when all you did made me feel like you despised my entire being.”

For fuck’s sake.

He grabbed your arm and turned your body, switching positions with his. He made sure to cover the back of your head so it wouldn’t hit the wall too hard and he growled under his breath.

“I do not hate you.” he said with gritted teeth. “I want you.”

Your eyes widened at that.

“What?” you confusingly and breathlessly asked.

“Every time I see you, there is nothing more than I want than to be with you. I look at your pretty face and I want to kiss you so bad. I look at your nice figure and I want to hold and caress you. I want you.” he panted silently, the words he never dared to even utter to himself outloud was finally out of his chest. And now that they were free, he looked at your eyes to see how would you react. Would you push him away and slap his face? Would you be disgusted with him you’d never want to see him anymore?

He would understand but he didn’t know if he could bear with your hatred.

“Then take me.” your hand encircled his neck and the other gently stroked his cheek.

No.

“I’m right here.”

I can’t.

“Show me you don’t truly hate me.”

It’s wrong.

“Show me how much you want me.”

In an instant, he captured his lips with yours as his hand slid to the back of your neck. At the touch of your lips, the hidden lust for you blossomed. He pressed his face to yours and yours closer to his deeper, his kiss burning so passionately and fiercely. You opened your mouth with a moan and he invited his tongue in, and he nearly groaned at your fragrance hynotizing him and your sweet taste that ignited a new kind of hunger for him. His tongue swriled with yours and together, they danced a dance that left him breathless.

He pulled away slightly and a web of both of your saliva disappeared. He stared at you as you panted. You looked at him pleadingly and your stare sent a rush of blood down in his pants. He wanted more and he knew you wanted the same.

And with that, he plunged to the roaring sea and its waging waves of lust.

“Y del Hijo,”

For you, he threw his title as a Priest and became just Miguel.

All for you, he returned to his origins and became a sinner once more.

“Y del Espíritu Santo,”

Each day and night, you invited him into your temple and he worshipped you. What once was just thoughts that tortured him became reality that gave him a glimpse of heaven. Your aroma engulfed him and filled his never-ending greed of you and your flavor satiated his endless glutton for you.

“Amen.”

As he finished his prayer, he stood up from kneeling and bowed to the Cross of the Lord. He fixed his clothes and the sounds of his footsteps against the tiles of the Church rang as he left with thoughts of you.

He wanted to hear your melody that was akin to the trumpets of the angels again. He wanted your soft and supple skin to be against his dark and rough ones. He wanted to be pressed under you with your legs on the either side of his head and your juices spill in his mouth. He wanted your warm cavern envoloped around him and to feel you come undone by him.

With a silent chuckle, he thought about how he tried so hard to not corrupt you by with his wicked thoughts only to be corrupted by you instead.

For Miguel O’Hara was a sinner and no matter how much he tried to change that, he will always be one. Violence has resided in his soul, along with anger that bubbled in his veins but time changed him and has now become lust that occupied his being along with the infinite greed and glutton that only wanted you.

[sillyblues]

UGH I'm so mad at spotify.... I looked through the hottest singles and you weren't there 😩😤😏

my face is so hot now STAIOSOSOSPAPPPP

[sillyblues]

(Hello I'm the one who had the spider bite pick up line and now I'm back with another, I hope you like this one too :3)

I am the moon and you are the earth and the center of my universe -🦇

wait this is so sweet awwhbxkzbLznzk

[sillyblues]

I am feral for the idea of hiding a pregnancy from Miguel, like the man literally doesn't know how to chill out... 💀

just saw this but yeah! honestly he terrifies me but at the same he makes me so mad which was like me half the time when i saw it in the theaters (the other half of me was PURRRIN at the sight of him my friend could attest to that LMAO) like he was out for blood with miles and even peter was terrified of him! i would be too! if i was pregnant with his baby i would never even think about telling him god knows what he'll do to me or my child i will NEVER even trust him with children again much less my own

[sillyblues]

Omg for that Miguel O'hara fanfic where the reader was called annoying. Can the reader return back to her dimension and Miguel is trying to contact her and sends someone to go check up on her. But the person comes back and shakes his head at Miguel, saying they weren't there so Miguel asks Lyla for the reader's location. She's in an alleyway or rooftop and she just tells Miguel she doesn't want to talk. Miguel brought the bear too, just to show that he does care about her and the gifts she gives him. You could change some of these ideas. :] -c

ੈ✩‧₊˚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: sorry this took me long to reply because i had to at least push a part of the preggo fic before i write this and this wasn't included on annoying part 2, i rlly considered this but the idea i had in mind with this was an angsty one and i wanted a happy ending for it so yeah :(( but still here's an alternate ending of annoying!

Miguel O’Hara was an asshole.

And he knew that of course, because he was the one who made this persona to protect himself from getting hurt. He had to be a real piece of shit so that he couldn’t get attached to anyone and wouldn’t get hurt if the universe inevitably ripped their arms away from his again.

But you. Oh god, you.

You were the reason why he had to wear a mask, a lie. You were so beautiful that his bleak world of loneliness was shattered with just a smile. Your voice brings back life in the void that resides in his heart. Your touch heals the hurting man that he so desperately tries to hide.

Like a moth attached to a flame, he easily got attached to you. And he hated that. He promised himself that he would not let anybody in and love anyone but God, it was fucking you. When he realised his mistake, he tried to be mean. He tried to regain and be in control of himself again (because he couldn’t get a hold of himself when it came to you) so that he wouldn’t be hurt ever again. He tried to ignore you despite his mind clinging to a word that you say and the urge to just be near you, to see you.

But when you fell from the platform, he was instantly reminded of his daughter, who disappeared into atoms and molecules, into thin air in his arms. He was instantly reminded of Gabriella, who the universe ripped away from his awms. His body reacted instinctively.

No. He had already lost her. He didn’t want to lose you again. 

Don’t do this to me. Don’t hurt me again.

In fear of losing you, he didn’t know he had hurt you. And when he realised it, it was too late. You ran away in tears, in pain that he caused and fuck, he was a piece of shit. He bitterly chuckled as he cried as he clutched the teddy bear you gave him. His tears fell on its fur, and he kneeled.

Miguel O’Hara was an asshole because he had to be one so that nobody couldn’t hurt him but when he had hurt you instead, he found himself questioning himself.

.

.

. 

Miguel knew you just as you knew him. When Peter came back to his office with no news of you, he quickly knew where you were. So he went to you himself instead and just as he knew, you were there on the rooftop of your apartment sitting with your back facing him. He clutched the teddy bear as he walked towards you.

His heart hammered against his chest and rang in his eardrums. His jaw was clenched and a part of him wants to hide forever but at the same time, he needed to apologize to you for what he have said and done. You did not deserve him but you deserved an apology.

But what if you didn’t want him anymore?

“What are you doing here, Miguel?” your hoarse voice snapped him out of his thoughts and he could hear the long time you cried and the pain that laced with it. His heart stung at the memory of him yelling at you once more.

“[Name]...” he whispered out your name and he was reminded of the days he thought of apologizing to you, days of saying your name as practised his apologies, and now that he was finally here in front of you, the owner of the name he desperately called out was in front of him, he didn't know what he was feeling. “I'm here to apologize.”

“You don't need to. It's fine. I don't really care anymore.” you said as you still looked ahead. his eyes widened at your figure that seemed so smaller than ever before.

“No, [Name], you should care. I was an asshole, a huge piece of shit and you didn't deserve that—”

“Last time I cared, I got shouted at telling me I'm annoying!” you snapped as you finally turned around and looked at him. He finally saw you but he didn't want to see you this way. He didn't want to see you hurting and in pain.

“I'm really sorry, please believe me, I didn't mean any of those, please.” he desperately begged and a part of him wondered how would his past self react if he knew of him for doing the exact thing he didn't want to do. If his past self saw him now, attached to someone enough to beg them to believe him, there was no doubt he would go insane. And he was insane. He was insane for all of this. He was insane for you.

“Liar,” your lip trembled and his heart broke at the sight of you crying again. “No, Miguel, you said what you needed to say and it's enough for me. I was a problem, I get it.”

“Let's just end this now. I quit. I give up.” your tears fell from your cheeks and he wanted to comfort you, to hold you, to wipe your tears. But he couldn't. The hopelessness in your voice destroyed him.

He caused that. He hurt you.

Miguel was only terrified of the fear that the universe would take you away if he got close to you and in his fear, he was the one that took you away from him instead.

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