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elphiej · 4 years

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Be My Light - Chapter 2: Her Devil, His Angel

*Pairing: Yoongi X Reader

*Genre: Mafia, angst, eventual smut, slow burn

*Warnings: Language, violence, reference to physical / emotional abuse, blood

Author’s note: Hi everyone. Thank you for sticking with me. I am also uploading Be My Light up on AO3 under the same username. I’ll link below. Please feel free to comment and let me know what you think or what you liked about it. I get really excited when I see what you guys like. I hope you like it.

Tag list: @lolalalooo @bangtan-sonyeonddaeng, @barbikatherine, @mrsfortune1306, @lovesick-heart0, @iamnamjoonsbxtch, @deathkat657, @deeepvibes

Chapter 2: Her Devil, His Angel

Almost there, you thought as you quickened your pace to your bus stop. Nothing had passed you on the road, so you were sure there was plenty of time before the bus arrived just beyond the construction. But with the morning you were having, you wouldn’t stop worrying until you were seated at the bench. You felt yourself smile a bit as you drew closer and closer to the shopping center; it was so large, and you were sure there were so many surprises lurking inside. You hoped it wouldn’t be too long before you could go in and find something special.

A black car went racing past you as breakneck speed, from seemingly nowhere, leaving you shivering from the blast wind that trailed behind. I must not be the only one having a crazy morning, you thought as your eyes followed the SUV’s taillights. As you passed in front of the construction zone, you saw the gate of the fence that surrounded it had been opened, leading to the paved entrance. Could the car have come from here? You stopped walking long enough to look around; nothing looked out of place, at least to you, and there didn’t seem to be any vandalism. Did they go inside? The chain on one of the doors had been unlatched and left hanging from the handle of the propped open doors. Or it would have been one of the workers checking on things and needed to leave quickly? You supposed there could be a lot of conclusions; instantly thinking something bad had happened just because of the gang activity wasn’t the best thing to ease your anxiety. It was best just to keep going. The bus stop was in sight at the edge of the fence.

Before you could sit on the bench, you heard a loud ‘popping’ sound from the building behind you. You wanted to say it was a car backfiring or a firecracker, but it was too rapid to be anything else. Ever since you had lived in Central, you learned how to tell the difference. You could hear some loud yells that sounded like it was coming from the other side of the building. But the shots were coming from inside the building. You should run away and hide somewhere safe; you know you should. And you started to back away, reaching for your phone to call the police. You heard more yells and footsteps heading your direction. There was nothing close by to duck into, so you hid yourself behind a trashcan on the other side of the bench. Peering around, you see two large men, both dressed in black suits, holding semi-automatic handguns. They were looking, wildly, up and down the street. You prayed they wouldn’t find you, not knowing what would happen.

“They’re not here! I don’t see a car anywhere! They must have got away,” one of the men said, out of breath.

“What did you expect after that fucking chase? Everywhere they ducked into was rigged with one of Vante’s traps! I can’t believe that fucker got in there and did all that with no one noticing him. My eyes are still burning from that pepper spray.”

“Tell me about it,” the first one replied, “On the third floor, he set off another smoke bomb and had trip wires all over the place. I almost busted my ass! He had every floor rigged with some kind of stupid trap. Yao went into an empty shop on the third floor and the security door came rolling down and locked him inside; they’re still trying to get him out.”

“Well, Vante and the blond are gone. And Choi’s going to have our heads. No matter how many traps we suffered through.”

“Maybe, but there are still the other two. I heard them chasing someone above us when we were pepper sprayed. Chen had said one of them was shot twice; there’s no way he’s making it out alive. Fairly sure it’s the youngest that’s still running around. Choi would be pleased if he could lay one of them out and get that secretive maknae they’re always protecting. If we can corner him and capture him, that teaches them not to mess with the Royals. Let’s go check around back and help corner the fucking brat. Bet he’s hiding in some stairwell.”

“As long as there’s no more damn traps…,” the other man trailed off in a low grumble.

The two men turned and ran back towards the side of the building. So, the speeding car must have been who they were looking for. No wonder they were driving like their lives depended on it, you thought. Whoever they were looking for must have wandered into a gang meeting? And there were more still in the building, hurt, being hunted down. You needed to leave, call the police, protect yourself. But you found yourself looking back at the building, and a thought emerged that really affected you. For much of the life you remembered, you had been bullied. You wished, back then, someone had stood up to protect you. Now, after all the therapies and hard work, you were trying to stand up for others like you. These gangs were nothing but bullies and the city was you, looking for someone to take a stand and help. You knew you were nothing compared to the men with guns and weapons, but there were people who needed help. The police would take too long, and you couldn’t stand the idea of letting someone die. Sometimes people need to do scary things to help people. Your father had always helped people; as a police officer he had ran into danger. You were a nurse; you could help them until the authorities came. All you needed to do was stay out of sight. Suddenly, the person Amber wanted you to be took over and that scared girl hiding behind the trash can disappeared, as you stood up and eased over to the open fence, peering around to see if anyone was there.

You pulled your phone out and called 911, quickly telling the operator what was going on; you were a nurse at Central Mercy, there was an active gang shooting with possible multiple injuries, and that you needed an ambulance to Central Mercy along with police. You hung up after the operator confirmed that they were on the way and to stay away from the scene. There was no talking you out of it. Someone needed to help before someone lost their life unnecessarily. The area around the open fence was clear of people, but from inside you could hear people were running around and yelling. You ran to the door, and slipped in once you saw the coast was clear.

Inside was dimly lit, and every noise echoed in the open concrete building. You couldn’t see anyone on the ground level; the noises seemed to be coming from the upper floors, where you could hear people yelling commands, breaking glass, and throwing things around. Whoever they were looking for must be hiding. You moved, quietly, into the open food court area, looking for some sign. This is stupid, you are so stupid, you kept chanting as you kept moving. On a box next to you, there was a crowbar and you snatched it up, holding it as if it was a bat. It may not do anything against a gun, but it made you feel a little secure as more shots were fired above you. There was a bunch of yelling; from the sounds of it, they hadn’t caught the young man the ones outside had mentioned. And you hoped they wouldn’t. But then, you heard someone yell, ‘He’s running towards the fire escape! Take him down’. It was quickly followed by more shouting, more shots fired, a scream, and the sound of glass breaking. As you made it to the fountain in the middle of the space, really wishing you would get out of there, you heard someone running. It was closer than the ones that echoed above you, and you could hear heavy breathing getting closer and closer. You crouched down against the wall of the fountain, gripping the metal bar tighter and trying to keep your breathing as quiet as you could. The footfalls got closer and closer, and they were not even steps like the two suited men from outside, and the breathing sounded labored and strained.

Around a corner, the owner of the steps came into your view. It was not a suited man, but a younger looking man with sweaty, blond hair, and a pale face. He was alone and swaying on his feet as he moved, with difficulty, towards the fountain. His breathing came in harsh gasps. He stumbled and hit the ground hard, hissing and struggled to get back up. From your hiding spot, you saw there was a massive blood stain on the red coat he wore from a bullet wound in his shoulder, with blood dripping from his limp hand. His other arm was wrapped around his waist and his black shirt seemed like it was wet, as well. As he tried to push himself up, you saw blood on his other hand, too. This had to be the one the two gang members were talking about, the one who was hurt. Instantly, you felt your heart break seeing someone so hurt. As he struggled to push up on his shaky arm, he tilted his head up.

Then, he finally noticed you.

Your eyes locked with his dark brown eyes. At first, he just stared at you, as if he couldn’t figure out if you were real or not. His eyes – you couldn’t help but think that they were so captivating and beautiful- kept searching yours for some kind of sign, like he was expecting you to turn into something else. But then, he realized that you were not a figment of his pain-induced imagination and that you were really sitting there. His eyes got bigger as he pushed himself to get to his unsteady feet, but his arm gave out and he dropped back to the ground. Some of the strands of his blond hair were stained red from an open cut at his hairline.

Before you could move to him, you heard someone coming. The young man heard them too and tried again to stand up, only to fall again. He turned his eyes back to you. His lips moved but you were so focused on the steps that you didn’t hear him. A man in a black suit, like the ones from outside, came around the corner. He looked around before his eyes fell upon the bleeding blond. The smile that cracked his face made your pulse race in your ears. It reminded you of the smile Daniel had shown you when you said you were leaving. The suited man let out a chuckle as he stalked over to the young man.

“There you are, you son of a bitch. Who would have thought you would have made it this far in your condition. Choi’s going to be so happy that he’s gonna get to finish you off.” He kneeled down next to his prey and fisted his blond hair, pulling him up to his knees. “And I’ll get such a reward for capturing you. And it’s only a matter of time before they catch your little friend. Last I heard, they cornered him on the second floor. He almost made it to the fire escape. I can’t wait to see your face when I smash his skull against the floor. After Choi has his own fun, that is.”

You couldn’t stop the gasp from escaping your lips as the mental image filled your mind. Two sets of eyes slid over to you. The suited man seemed startled at your presence and it took him a moment to fully process you. Slowly, that predator look he wore slipped back into place. He, roughly, released the youth and rose to his feet. His steps towards you were slow and heavy. And with each step, his well-tailored suit changed to a pair of worn jeans and a whiskey-soaked jacket. With each step, he became your ex as he stalked you against the wall of your apartment. Then back to the suited gang member with a gun in his belt. The edges of your vision started to darken and get fuzzy from panic. You pushed away from the fountain, trembling fingers releasing the only weapon you could protect yourself with, and tried to crawl away from his gaze. But he grabbed you by the ankle and dragged you back to his grasp. He grabbed you by the collar of your coat and crouched on top of you.

Just like Daniel had done after he backhanded you for asking why you couldn’t leave.

“Well, what do we have here? A little bitch who wandered into the wrong place at the wrong time, maybe? Do you belong to him? Or were you trying to play hero? What a fucking joke! You should have minded your own business! Now, I’m gonna have to teach you a lesson.”

You just couldn’t be the happy little bitch I asked you to be. You had to go sticking your nose where it didn’t belong. Guess I’m gonna have to teach you a lesson, Daniel’s voice echoed behind the suited man’s words.

“No,” you gasp, not sure who you were responding to, “please stop. I’m sorry!”

He pulled you up to your feet, fingers biting into your arms. “Sorry isn’t gonna help you. You’ve seen too much. I doubt the boss will want to keep you around for a quick fuck either; you’re not pretty enough for that.”

You should be thankful someone like me even wants to be around you. You’re nothing but useless. You’re not even good looking. Not even pretty enough to call a girlfriend.

Your heart was racing; all the emotions were flooding your mind. Suddenly, you were back in your old apartment wanting to leave to make everyone happier. Daniel was screaming at you, breaking down every shred of courage you had mustered to tell him you were leaving. His hands were bruising your arms as he was about to throw you against the coffee table when you moved towards the door. There was a crack echoing in your mind as your head contacted with the wood then the wall as he slammed you against it. No, this wasn’t happening again! But the suited man kept changing forms, both faces sharing that venomous smirk. You were gonna be a victim again, forever trapped by his words and actions.

You were useless.

“No!” You squeezed your eyes shut and brought your knee up as hard as you could, hitting him right in the stomach. The man stumbled back and it gave you enough time to reach down for the crowbar and swing it up. It connected with Daniel’s face as he moved towards you again. You swung it again, and it hit the suited man in the back as he doubled over. With a surge of rage that had been hidden within all the fear and anxiety, you swung again and again.

When the red in your vision faded, the suited man was on the ground, unmoving. You stared down at him, breathing hard. For a moment, you weren’t sure what had happened. Was he dead? How did that happen? The weight of the crowbar in your hand brought it back to you. You were protecting yourself the way you wished you had before. The suited man had triggered your memory so strongly that all that pent of anger Amber had always said needed to be addressed came surging out. You stared at the crowbar in utter shock. How did you do that? You glanced down at the unconscious suited man before you; you nudged him with your foot and let out a sigh of relief when he let out a moan. He may have been trying to attack you, but you really didn’t want to kill anyone. It went against your whole purpose of running into this hell hole.

Your eyes darted back to the bleeding man leaning heavily against the edge of the fountain. You dropped the crowbar, making a loud ‘bang’, and ran over to him, wrapping your arm around him and steading him. He, unknowingly, leaned his weight against you and his head pressed against your shoulder. You got a better look at his wounds; the cut on his forehead was long but not deep, and the gun shot wound in his shoulder was bleeding quite a bit. There was no exit wound, so the bullet was still lodged somewhere in his flesh. You reached down and moved his shirt from his side to see another gunshot wound, deep and heavily bleeding. He tried to push you away.

“What are you doing here,” he hissed at you through clenched teeth. “Get out of here! They’ll kill you.”

“I handled that one,” you said, nodding your head in the direction of the suited man, “didn’t I?”

“Barely. I could have handled him.” Was he seriously dismissing your effort? “A few lucky swings aren’t gonna save you from a gunshot. You need to get out of here. Just leave me here. They’re coming.”

You eased his limp arm over your shoulder, wrapped your arm around his back to his uninjured side, and pulled him to his shaky feet. “I’m not leaving you here. You’ll either bleed out or whoever is looking for you will finish you off. Come on, I’m gonna get you out.”

“You shouldn’t be in here. What were you thinking?”

“Are you really berating me right now? I am trying to save you, you know. From where I’m standing, my lack of skills would have fared better than you. Why are you here, anyways?

Despite his weakened state, the man struggled in your grasp, trying to push you away. “Are you crazy?”

“No,” you said as you lead the way towards the door, “I’m a nurse at Central Mercy. And I don’t like bullies. Just focus on staying awake, alright? I promise I’ll get us out of here alive. And when we do, I want the full explanation of who I just knocked out and what I got myself into saving you. Deal?”

“Whatever-“

“Look down there,” you heard someone yell from behind you, “I heard something! He couldn’t have gotten far.”

You felt the man flinch in your grip at the sound of the harsh voice. The sounds of heavy steps sounded like a rolling thunder in the wide space. There was no way you were going to make it out the door before someone noticed you, especially with the way the blond man was stumbling with each step. He was losing too much blood, and whatever headwound he had sustained had him straining to keep conscious. You looked around for something to hide behind. There were some boxes and crates but that wouldn’t be good enough. With the steps and voices getting closer, you made your way to one of the food service counters, and crouched down behind it. The thunder of footsteps seemed to patter off into different directions, but one could still be heard walking into the space. There was the sound of something scraping behind them. You braved to glance around the edge of the counter to see. At the fountain, right where you had hidden yourself a few moments ago, was a tall, well dressed man in a light blue suit. While he seemed the type to take care of his appearance, he looked crazed and disheveled. In one gloved hand, he held a gun while the other was a silver, ornate cane. His eyes were locked on the fallen man; This had to be the big boss based on his attire, you assumed. He made a noise of disappointment before turning his attention to a small pool of blood from where the blond had fallen. He dipped the edge of the cane in the crimson liquid, and brought it up to his eyes. At first, you worried he was going to taste it, like some modern vampire. But he smiled and started to walk forward, dragging the cane behind him, leaving a red trail. The way he stalked through the space you couldn’t help but feel a sense of dread. Your heart was beating so fast; this was beyond terrifying, but you needed to focus. You felt a shaky hand reach over and grab hold of yours. He gave your hand a reassuring squeeze. The young man, despite chiding you earlier, was trying to keep you from falling too far into your fear.

“I know you’re here, Agust,” the chilling voice called out into the space. “Come out, come out, wherever you are. Still have some fight in you? You did a number on my man. I should return the favor.”

The voice made a loud yell and a sudden crash exploded in the space. You brought your hand to your mouth to keep your gasp of surprise from alerting the walking embodiment of death. The man had brought his cane down upon the boxes you thought to hide behind, and smashed them. He kicked the shatter pieces out of his path and moved on, dragging the cane again. The steps were closer, and you figured he had come to one of the other food counters. You prayed he wouldn’t find you because you weren’t sure what would happen if he did. Suddenly, the blond let go of your hand and reached behind him. He pulled out a black, studded gun. You couldn’t begin to wonder what you had actually gotten yourself into. His hand was shaky too much and he pressed it into your hand before placing his over yours; was he intending to have you shoot him? Could you? Or was he using you as a steady when you were shaking just as bad as him? You stared at him with wide eyes, but he shushed you and moved your hands where he needed them.

“Hiding like a scared child? I thought you were better than that. But we have the same problem as before; you still have a heart. You should have let your boy die, Agust. Then, you could have gotten away to face another day. But now, you’re bleeding out. You’re gonna die. Unless I find you.” The cane hit against one of the counters and scraped across it. The sound made you shiver. The blond held you hand tighter, his finger against yours near the trigger. His eyes were feverish, and he was getting paler than before. The voice continued to move closer. “I’m gonna take my time with you. I’ll make sure you don’t die yet. It’s a matter of time before we find your boy. I want you to watch while I unmask him and break him. And I’ll remind you how it’s all your fault as I make him scream. Only after I break him so no one can ever fix him, then I’ll take my time with you. I’ll make sure to take pictures to send to your friends. I’ll make sure they know who they’re dealing with.”

The voice was so close now, you were sure he was only a few steps away. The footsteps stopped and you could hear the man taking a deep breath. Then, he was quiet. You were holding your breath, your lungs burning. The menacing man, then, took an audible sniff of the air. He did it again and again, as if he was a bloodhound. What was he smelling? Or was this just another tactic to try and scare them out of hiding. Another few steps and you were sure he was in front of your counter. The blond’s hand started to move, ready to use your hand to help him get a steady shot. The man beyond the counter started to lean over when-

“Sir!”

The man stopped and turned his attention away from the counter. “Chen, what did you find? Did you track them down?”

The man, Chen, came up to him. “No sir, the two escaped in a vehicle. They lost our men running through different levels and shops. They set up a bunch of snares and traps. I had men ready to chase them but Vante did a number on the cars. They’re long gone.”

“What about the boy?”

“We couldn’t catch him.” You felt the blond let out a sigh of relief. “He jumped through a window on the second floor.” That explained the broken glass sound you heard. “By time the men got out there, he had dashed into the alleyways and we lost his trail.” A cell phone rang, and for a moment, you feared it was yours, but Chen answered it. “Sir, we need to go. Police are on the way here. The men can hear the sirens. Someone tipped them off.”

“Damn it,” the man snapped. He slammed the cane against the counter. “Did anyone find Agust?”

“No, sir. He must have gotten out. The front door and gate are opened. He must have escaped. Maybe the two in the car swung back around and got him.”

“No, he’s still here somewhere. I can feel it. He’s too hurt to have gotten away from me. There’s too much blood splattered. He has to be close by.” The man took another deep breath. “Do you smell that?”

“Sir, I can’t smell anything. But we really need to leave. The police are close. Please, if he’s that hurt, he won’t make it until the police get here. You’ve won the battle, sir.”

“Unless there’s a body, there is no victory.” You heard as he started to move away from the counter. “Grab that idiot over there. Tell the men to get us out of here.”

You waited until the steps disappeared and the space was all quiet. In the background, you could hear the sounds of police and ambulance sirens coming closer and closer, and the fear you had started to ebb away. You glanced around the counter to make sure they were truly gone before dropping your hand and taking a deep breath. It was going to be ok. The young man’s hand slipped from yours and dropped to his side. Suddenly, your panic started to return. You dropped the gun and moved in front of him, tapping his cheek to keep him awake and checking his pulse. His eyes were glossy and unfocused, his skin so pale and cold. The blood soaked his clothes and wasn’t slowing. You shrugged off your backpack and stripped your jacket off, ignoring the chill of the space, and pressed the material against the wound to stop the bleeding. The man jerked and hissed but his body was too weak to fight it. The sirens got closer still, but it felt like an eternity for you to hear the rush of police calling out. You yelled out for a medic, alerting the police where you were and who you were. Then, you leaned close to the blond stranger.

“Hey, you got to stay with me, alright? I’m gonna get you out of here, remember? We’re gonna get you to the hospital and patch you up. But I need you to stay awake. Remember, you promised to tell me what I got myself into.” His eyes couldn’t seem to focus on yours and kept slipping closed. You patted his check again, leaving bloody prints. You reached for his hand instead. You squeezed it as he had done not so long ago, trying to bring his focus on you. “Come on, stay with me. Can you squeeze my hand? Talk to me? Tell me your name. Tell me how dumb I am for running into an active shooting scene. Tell me I’m a hot mess. Anything, just stay with me.”

His hooded eyes caught yours and he tilted his head to the side. He slipped his hand from yours and laid it against your cheek. “Angel,” he whispered, before his hand dropped and his body went limp.

#bts fic #bts imagines #bts mafia au #bts mafia fic #yoongi x reader #bangtan boys #ot7 x reader #min yoongi #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #jung hoseok #park jimim #kim taehyung #jeon jungkook #bangtan fanfic #Bemylight #elphiej

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fanfictin · 3 years

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self notes for Clone Wars series2

s2ep1 Holocron heist . Anakin and ObiWan are fighting on a planet, ObiWan pulls Anakin out the way of a crashing ship and they head out, Obiwan calling Ahsoka who refuses to retreat, they land in front of her, Anakin ordering her to get on. “Where’s Ahsoka?” anikan shes YOUR padawan “Following your teachings.” the disapproval “Is she winning?” “For now.” . In front of the council for disobeying, despite anikin’s light defense as her master, they give her archive guard duty. Meanwhile Anakin and Obiwan briefly discuss the setback then discuss and split up to search for an intruder. After reporting to each other, they join up to go through the ventilation vents after Cadbane. In the archives, Ahsoka persues and catches the disguised intruder and coms anakin to tell him so he and Obiwan continue through the vents to find the other, avoiding a bomb in a droid. They all convene and find something missing.

s2ep2 Cargo of Doom . on a ship, Anakin and Ahsoka with clones land on the enemy ship top and get in to find the stolen thing. In a room w droids and Bane the gravity turns off as they fight, then ahsoka goes alone after Bane while there’s a cave in at the hangar on top of anakin and the clones. Seperated from them, Anakin quickly wakes up and orders Rex gang back to a ship as he goes after Ahsoka who has been captured by Bane. With Ahsoka in danger, Anakin opens the thing for Bane before forcing his and ahsoka’s lightsabers and using them until the door is closed and gives ahsoka’s back to her. Running to Rex and the ship, Ahsoka convinces him a bit hysterically to leave rather than go after Bane. They scape back to the main ship. “You can’t be serious” / “I AM GENERAL THANK YOU FOR YOUR OPINION” the poor man is just doing his job anaking-pls-- ; and later “I seem to have misplaced my padawan” / “Of all the Jedi, why did I have to end up with SKYWALKER” Admiral or whatever pls. ObiWan is just as bad for one

s2ep3 Children of the Force . continuation. Bane reveals himself as a disguise trooper and makes his escape despite Anakin trying to get on the fighter to stop him. With younglings being kidnapped, gang set off seperately to save them, Obiwan finding but failing to catch Bane. Anakin and Ahsoka go to Naboo, the latter splitting off to find Bane and Anakin joining her in stopping him escape, tackling him to the ground a little roughly. Arresting him, jedi reconvene to interrogate Bane. Mentioning reporting, Obiwan amusedly tells Anakin to do it then while he and Windu go off. Anakin calls after him, bit worried, but they assage his concern. “This could be a trap, Master. Are you sure you don’t need us to go?” thats the softest voice he’s ever spoken in,, blesss worry boi . After reporting, Ahsoka and Anakin work on Bane’s small ship and decide to go to mentioned mustafar. Arriving, they sense and rescue the kids from some droids, escaping back to the jedi council to report and learn bane escaped too

s2ep4 Senate Spy . oh that. Was actually rather sweet with Padme and Anakin there. More amusingly, Anakin just exasperated that he has to report and he’s been ignoring ObiWan’s signals all night,, what a insolent padawan. Padme is spying for council on another senator, Anakin is in disguise to watch but really just be a bitch bc he doesn’t like this guy.

s2ep5 Landing at Point Rain . Anakin and Ahsoka join Obiwan and Mundi on a ship bridge, the former two smugly mentioning how many kills they had even when Obiwan isn’t amused bc they’re aleady late. They plan prep but ObiWan and Anakin just banter instead “Come now. What happened to all the enthusiasm I saw earlier.” “Don’t worry about us. You just make sure you get yourself to that landing zone in one piece.” the affectionate yet sarcastic yet smug way he puts his arm on obiwan’s shoulder- i fuckin-- “Yes, and I shall be waiting for you when you finally arrive.” and then lady who they’re STILL on call with just “gentlemen if you are QUITE finished we have a battle to begin” ahskjsfk everyone’s tired of these little shits . Gunships go down to drop the generals to fight, Obiwan on one, Anakin and Ahsoka on another, and Mundi also heading down. Anakin’s team is shot down so they get out to fight and advance on the surface. others are also shot and grounded, Obiwan’s team crashed. Cody tells Rex who tells Anakin that Obiwan is down and can’t help. “Great! The one time I actually ask ObiWan for help and he’s nowhere to be found.” “Hey. I’m worried about him too. But you have to keep your mind in the here and now or else we’ll never be able to help ObiWan.” bless . Rex’s clones find and get Obiwan and a tropper to safety, informing him of the situation and they decide to wait for the other two. Anakin’s team come across a giant wall that they need to get over. “Well this is anothre FINE mess you’ve gotten us into” “What?!Hey, It’s not my fault! You were supposed to study the holomaps!” “I DID! Remember, when i reminded you, about the giant wall, and you said, ‘Don’t worry Snips, we won’t be anywhere near that’!” you’re being SHOT AT and you’re still just bantering,, . Anakin and Ahsoka reach the top of the wall - still maintaning how many they each shot down - and with Rex’s help get explosive inside then jump off and avoid having it cave in on them. Eventually they all catch up to where Obiwan’s team are holding ground, and reunite with him. Despite sitting in some pain, Obiwan briefs them on the next plan, and Anakin and Ahsoka head out again to finish the fight. Done, Anakin helps Obiwan to the leaving ship as Ahsoka notes she got more droids down than him. On the ship, Mundi speaks up that he won to a bemused Anakin and smug Obiwan who didn’t understand it anyway

s2ep6 Weapons Factory . left on geonosis, a bickering Anakin and Ahsoka are joined by Luminere and her padawan barris to infiltrate the droid factory and destroy it. The padawans go off alone while a mildly concerned Anakin and Luminere advance their clones to fight the droids. Underneath, the padawans set about planting bombs, before they’re attacked. Above, clones fall back as Anakin and master plant bombs under the bridge and jump up to detonate them. That sorted, escape ships coming in but Anakin refuses to leave without the padawans, despite Rex’s VERY insistant “I SUGGEST you get ON ONE” he just wants his general safe,, bless. . underground the padawans hide in a tank as they blow up the place around themselves. Above, Anakin frantically insists they can find them and start searching. Trapped in the tank, Ahsoka tries to get her comm working, then they quietly hold hands. It works, and the top team dig them out alive. “I knew you’d come looking for me.” said the master “I never doubted you for a second.” to the padawan - But I also feel for Luminere’s quote: “If my padawan has perished, I will mourn her. But I will celebrate her as well through her memory.”

#sw #clone wars #star wars #liz clone wars notes #slone wars s2

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mxndwitch · 6 years

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Headcanon: Early life

These are my headcanons surrounding Wanda’s early years, up until Age of Ultron. Please note that this is MY version of events. You need in no way agree with me, nor adapt to my backstory, if you portray Pietro ( or anyone else relevant to Wanda’s past and affected by my headcanons ) and have a different idea. I just ask you kindly to drop into my IMs and discuss background thoughts with me, before interacting with Wanda. Please also keep in mind that my blog is MCU based and has no comic influence whatsoever. I personally have very little knowledge about the comics, so sticking with MCU canon is easier for me. If you write Magneto or anyone else involved with Wanda in the comics, please hmu for plotting before interacting. I am open to it, but it just isn’t my main verse.

EARLY CHILDHOOD & TEENAGE YEARS

Wanda and Pietro were born into a loving family. They didn't have much, but the majority of Sokovia was anything but rich, so they never felt like they lacked a thing. There was always food on the table, clothes on there bodies and love from their parents, so what else would they need? The one thing they realized quickly, however, was that Sokovia was not a safe place to be. Civil wars had plagued their home for many decades on and off, so their parents were no strangers to violence and sirens ringing through the night.

One night when Wanda and Pietro were ten years old, a mortar shell hit their apartment while they sat at the dinner table, instantly killing their parents. Another shell hit, but didn't detonate. The children were trapped for two days, scared to move, because they didn't want the shell to explode. They held onto each other and all they saw for those dreadful hours, were the words written on the deadly instrument: Stark Industries.

As orphans, the twins were moved into a state run orphanage that was entirely overcrowded and a cruel place to live in. No one actually cared about the children there. They were all being treated miserably, food was rare and they froze at night in their beds, because the heating was broken. Those months spent in the institution were probably the worst for Wanda, because she missed nothing more than the safe home they used to have and the love their parents had given them. Pietro and her were obviously close and it helped her a lot to have him by her side, but the cruelty of the teachers and staff members at the orphanage turned her into a timid, quiet and insecure little girl.

Pietro – the rebel of the two of them – one day decided that it was time to leave. He was done being slapped in the face over untidy beds and dirt on his hands during dinner, so he told his sister that they were going to run away. Wanda had mixed feelings about it, because where would they go? But she naturally followed him anyway, because they were two sides of a coin, always together and connected.

Since there was no family left to go to, they lived on the streets from that day on. It also meant, that Wanda's schooling ended at this point, something she came to regret immensely later on in life, especially when being surrounded by bright minds like Stark and Banner.

The following years were spent on the streets in a war zone. They stayed in their old apartment for a while, because the buildings damaged by bombs just remained uninhabited. No one made an effort to rebuild them, because Sokovia was far too poor for that. They moved houses a lot after their old home proved to crumble with time, being just two among many street kids in their small country. Pietro, who was always much better with people and knew how to keep them alive, was very well known among the other kids and always managed to find food and clothes for them. He knew how to work his charm and smug attitude to get what he wanted and if all else failed, he was good at stealing. Wanda didn't necessarily like that this was how they survived, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

Growing up in a war zone was hard on Wanda's rather gentle nature. They saw a lot of devastation, death and tragedy in the years leading up to their affiliation with Hydra. Although they both grew numb towards it over time, watching bombs fall and people being shot on the streets with little to no emotional reaction, their anger grew with the years, towards Stark, who supplied the enemies with weapons, towards America and everyone who was trying to tear Sokovia apart.

In the end, it was Pietro's idea to join Hydra. Wanda wasn't sure about their offer and had doubts, but since she went nowhere without her brother and wasn't going to let him go into any lab without her, she followed as usual – and came to regret that fairly early on. Hydra locked them into cells and started experimenting on them, which killed all other 'test subjects', except for Wanda and Pietro. Although this was by far the most frightening, painful and terrible time they went through, they still both developed a sense of belonging when it came to their tormentors, because ultimately this was supposed to help Sokovia. They joined in the naive, idealistic belief that it would rid the country of everything evil, that they would free their people and get revenge for a lifetime of misery, so Wanda didn't really want to see that they had been deceived and none of that was going to happen. With her new powers, she knew that she no longer belonged into the world of normal people anyway, so where was she supposed to go without Hydra? She saw no other way than to follow, until the events surrounding Ultron changed everything once again.

#heacanon #hc #wanda maximoff #mcu

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kalimarsdreamlog · 6 years

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Dream 239: Morgan and the Magic Bomb

There were a few elements of Fire Emblem: Awakening in this one, but it took place in modern times. Namely, I was Robin (don’t know which one as I was gender-confused, as is becoming more and more common in my dreams), Morgan was my child who came back from the future to fix the past, and the event(s) he was trying to prevent were at least indirectly my fault.

I don't really remember how it began. Thor was there. Then Loki appeared and I had to pretend I didn't know him, lest I make him my enemy. I did quietly whisper to Thor that Loki was there though. Thor, of all people, needed to know that he had escaped from Asgardian prison. I don't remember what happened next. Eventually Loki and I became acquainted. He had a /little/ bit of respect for me because of Grima's soul inside me. He could tell that I was powerful. Despite my power, it's not as if I could release and control Grima on command, so I really only had my regular dream powers plus a little dark magic that I didn't really know how to use.

Suddenly I was teleported to a place a few miles away. It was completely devoid of people, which was strange. It was the kind of place that should be bustling. It had an eerie feeling, so I started flying to find a place with people to get away. I spotted a small group of people meeting in a small grove of trees, and went towards them, only the bad feeling increased tenfold. I changed direction, going as fast as I could in the hopes that they wouldn't notice me.

Unfortunately, they did. Turns out they had set off some kind of magic bomb that would instantly vaporize any fauna it touched. Flora was fine, inanimate objects were fine. Clothes connected to people disappeared too, oddly enough. After setting off the bomb they returned to where they set it off to see the results; it was likely an experiment. This is when I was unfortunate enough to pass within the vicinity.

Because I had seen the damage and could connect them to the scene, I was a witness. They couldn't leave any witnesses. So they captured me and brought me to their base. Loki was also there, but he did not appear to be there against his will. Upon learning of my status as tactician and ability to use magic, they forced me to build them another magic bomb, this one bigger. It was dangerous magic I was working with, and I did not know a way to sabotage it that wouldn't result in massive death anyway. I had hoped to talk to Loki, (if anyone could help me escape, it was him, what with his craftiness and magic) but couldn't find him after initially seeing him at the base.

I asked them if there was any way I could contact even a single loved one and tell them to get out of town. I wouldn't say why or incriminate my captors in any way. But they said no. Well, that gave me even more reason to escape; if they wouldn't let me protect my family willingly, I'd have to do it by force.

I eventually escaped on my own. I was a master strategist after all. When I finally got out I had three goals: find Loki, get home, and get my family out of harm's way. I figured Loki could help me go into hiding, maybe even teach me some illusion spells. But there was more than just that to worry about.

The outside world was in chaos. As I was running away from the base and towards home, people were running the opposite direction in desperation. Then they stopped in horror. "There's another one!" One of them said, pointing at the sky behind me.

I turned around. In the sky was the giant face of Zeus. He threw down a massive lighting bolt from the overcast sky, setting a sizable section of the ground on fire. From where the running people came from, I saw Hermes angrily creating tornadoes and whirlwinds. All around gods started appearing in the sky, each raining down their fury in their own ways. I wondered if Thor or Loki would be among them. But I could worry about finding them later. In the face of destruction such as this, all that mattered was getting home and protecting my family.

My family consisted of Morgan, Randy, my mom, my grandma, and maybe a couple of other people? Like Randy's in-dream girlfriend. Chrom was there at the early stages of the dream, but by the time the dream took shape he didn't seem to exist. The dream's continuity had a little trouble with Morgan; at the beginning of the dream, he was about fifteen years old. At the end of the dream she was six. The gender-switch was likely in response to my own confusion, since in the game their gender depends on the player character's. I'm just going to stick to "he" to make this easier to read. Regardless, Morgan was my whole world.

I ran inside the next building I came across for shelter from the gods' ire. It was a very large superstore. I was still running and hiding from my captors, (trying to stay on the ground so as not to draw attention) so I was constantly on the move in an effort to not get caught. Two randomly moving objects are less likely to run into each other than one moving object and one standing still. I ran into one of my coworkers right as one of my captors burst into the store.

I had only planned on telling my family my plight, perhaps even only Morgan, as he was the most important. I'd calculated that if I was far enough ahead of the people after me, I could tell one single person without my captors finding out. If I could get just one person, just Morgan safe, it would be okay. However, with my captors hot on my tail and still being nowhere near home, I needed help. I hurriedly whispered to my coworker that I was trying to escape my kidnappers and that I needed a way out, NOW. He showed me the back door to the store that was only to be used for emergencies. I took it, but didn't get far. The girl who had followed me caught up to me in no time flat, cornered between her and several other people from what I'm going to say was the cult.

I realized I'd ruined my chances of protecting my family. The cult members had seen my coworker trying to help me; they knew I'd told someone the situation. Now I could no longer be trusted, and I had likely put him in danger as well.

Back in their clutches, I was forced to finish preparing the magic bomb. It was small in comparison to the devastation it would cause, small enough to fit in a backpack. The first bomb that they'd tested had taken out an area maybe a bit bigger than harmony park. My best guess was that this one would take out at least a square mile, maybe two.

At last it was finished. They prepped it to detonate, right there in their base. They basically said, "If you can get your family out of the blast zone, we'll let them live. Good luck!" And then Loki teleported them all away.

I was determined to save my family. I knew I was being selfish, but there was no way I'd be able to save everyone else. If I told the entire area that we were all in danger, the mass exodus would likely clog every way out of the vicinity and our chances of escape would plummet.

I took a motorcycle down the highway I had run down before. I finally made it home, telling my family to get in the car and drive like hell. There were two problems: one, everyone kept going back in the house to grab one last thing, wasting way too much of our precious time, and two, Morgan was nowhere to be found. Stressing how important it was to leave post haste, I abandoned the rest of my family in favor of finding him. I flew up and down the streets shouting his name, annoying a lot of people and making a scene in general. I didn't care though. There was a bomb about to go off and I needed to save my son.

I finally found him with his legs in splints. Apparently he had gone looking for me and had tried climbing something, likely a tree, for a better perspective and fallen. Someone else had helped him with the splints since he had insisted on continuing to look for me instead of going to the hospital. I thanked the guy who'd helped him and scooped him up, flying as fast as I could away from the cult's base.

Many miles later, I stopped at a convention center to rest. I was pretty sure We'd made it far enough.

There was a boom in the distance.

People screamed. I saw a wall of white headed towards the glass doors and began to panic. I'd underestimated the power of the magic I'd put into the bomb, the magic that came from Grima himself. I'd forgotten that I wielded the magic of a god. Desperate, I held onto Morgan and tried teleporting like Loki had. It was the worst-case scenario; I had to believe that I had the potential to pull it off. There was no other way. The explosion traveled faster than I could fly, and at the speed it was going I doubted it was going to subside anytime soon.

We warped five feet to the side. In any other situation I would be excited to see progress in a new kind of magic, but considering what was going on it was understandable that I had no such feelings.

There was no time to be disappointed. Out of options, I made sure Morgan was secure and flew at top speed to the other side of the convention center, fully intending to make it outside and fly for it as a last-ditch effort.

Unfortunately, it was a dead end.

I started to cry. I had failed. I dragged Morgan into the closest room and closed the door behind us. It was just us two in the room about as big as a donut shop. Morgan was scared; he didn't understand what was going on. I told him over and over that I was sorry and that I loved him so much. I couldn't make myself say anything else. Nothing else was important.

Then the room was filled with white, and I woke up.

The end of the dream was pretty upsetting. Parents are supposed to protect their kids, you know? And it was likely that the bomb was the whole reason Morgan came back to the past in the first place. Not to mention that we were both killed by the bomb I made! And I know that it's a dream and doesn't matter, but I feel like if I had just looked for Morgan in the first place instead of waiting around to make sure the rest of my family left the house, we would have made it. I'm pretty sure the rest of my family died anyway, so it wouldn't have made a difference for them.

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#dream 239 #dreams #Illustrated #morgan (fe)#robin (fe)#grima #loki #thor #fire emblem #marvel #fire emblem awakening #powers #flying #dark magic #teleportation

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pitviperofdoom · 7 years

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BNHA: Chance Meeting

Summary: Shouto looked at him again, this time really looking, and noticed for the first time that the boy was wearing a hooded sweatshirt in All-Might’s colors. He almost wanted to laugh; wouldn’t Father curse at that, seeing an All-Might hoodie in a crowd of people spectating one of his fights.

AU: Meeting As Children

July 5 - Day 1

Theme: first impressions

Quote: “Compassion for animals is intimately connected with goodness of character; and it may be confidently asserted that he who is cruel to animals cannot be a good man or woman.” - Arthur Schopenhauer

AO3

It was only a routine villain emergency response: some purse snatchers who panicked at the sight of police and turned it into a bigger deal than it should have been. Of course, “routine” was still a quirk-fueled brawl in the street, and hardly a place for a grade-schooler to be loitering, but if five years was old enough to start combat training, then this wasn’t that much of a stretch.

Shouto was hardly the only child watching the fight, of course. It was a minor skirmish, and there were police officers and heroes everywhere, not to mention the number-two hero himself, so it was safe enough. One man had his daughter up on his shoulders. One boy, not far from where Shouto stood, didn’t seem to have any parents with him at all. Shouto spared a moment of amusement when he saw that the kid’s attention was caught between watching Endeavor fight with open-mouthed awe, and petting a cat that had wandered up to him. In spite of himself, Shouto found himself envying the boy; at least this kid looked like he actually wanted to be there.

Shouto must have been looking at him too long, because a moment later the boy glanced over and noticed him. He seemed to startle at the attention, and Shouto turned back to the fight.

He thought that was the end of that, but a moment later, a voice startled him by addressing him directly.

“Isn’t he cool?”

Shouto turned his head and found the boy grinning at him, almost bouncing in place with excitement. The moment he had Shouto’s attention, he looked back to the fight, where Endeavor was subduing one of the attackers with single-minded efficiency.

“He’s pretty strong,” the kid went on. “Endeavor, I mean. His quirk’s so cool, but I bet he doesn’t even need it to fight. Don’t you think?”

It was perfectly polite, perfectly friendly, but Shouto felt instant discomfort twisting in the pit of his stomach. It still ached from a punch he’d taken that morning, without a drop of fire behind it. The bruise wasn’t anywhere that clothes couldn’t cover; when Father left lasting marks on him, they never were.

He didn’t answer.

“Um…” The young fan’s voice was quieter now. “So… who’s your favorite hero?”

Is it Endeavor? Shouto almost expected him to say.

“Mine’s All-Might,” the boy offered. “Endeavor’s strong, but All-Might’s the best. And… nicer.”

The knot of tension loosened. “…Mine too,” he said, quietly, though he knew his father was nowhere near hearing range. He looked over again, and found the boy beaming at him.

“Have you seen the video of his debut?” the kid blurted out in a rush. “It’s super old from years ago but it’s my favorite thing ever and I’ve watched it loads of times.”

Shouto nodded. “I, um. Used to watch his interviews a lot.”

“Just used to?” The boy looked crestfallen.

He regretted his wording almost instantly. “I mean, um… I’m not allowed to, anymore.”

“That’s awful,” was the reply, and he sounded like he meant it, like not being allowed to watch All-Might interviews was the absolute worst possible thing. Shouto looked at him again, this time really looking, and noticed for the first time that the boy was wearing a hooded sweatshirt in All-Might’s colors. He almost wanted to laugh; wouldn’t Father curse at that, seeing an All-Might hoodie in a crowd of people spectating one of his fights. It would have been funny, if Shouto didn’t know that Father’s anger was no laughing matter.

So instead, he shrugged. “It’s okay. Sometimes I can sneak.”

“That’s good. You know, I saw a video of one of his fights, from years ago—not as old as the debut video, not even close, but he was still really…” The eager All-Might fan carried on in that vein, cheerfully idle chatter, and the discomfort loosened further. Usually when people stopped to talk to him, they were doing it for the chance to talk to Endeavor’s son, the child of the Number Two Hero, and they talked about that and nothing else. But this boy didn’t seem to have caught on to who Shouto was, and… frankly, that suited him just fine. He’d take rambling about All-Might over “what’s it like being the son of the Flame Hero?” any day of the week.

The fight looked to be wrapping up, and the boy’s chatter trailed off. He was stretching on his tiptoes to see, while Shouto could barely pay attention. Endeavor’s fights were probably more enjoyable to watch for people who hadn’t been on the wrong side of one.

And then the first explosion went off. And the second.

Bad intel; it happened. Shouto knew it happened, because whenever Father set parameters during a training session only to catch Shouto off guard by breaking them, that was always the reason why. A good hero had to stay on his toes. A good hero must be ready for anything. A good hero trusted his gut, because knowledge could be sabotaged, misinterpreted, or just plain wrong.

Shouto had been standing safely behind the police barrier with the rest of the spectators, until explosions rang out and suddenly it wasn’t safe anymore.

For a moment his mind went blank. It wasn’t fear—at least, it didn’t feel like what fear normally felt like. But in the initial shock of the moment, Shouto had no idea what he was supposed to do.

It came back to him in bits and pieces: Stay away from the epicenter of the disaster. Avoid big panicky crowds, don’t get trampled. If there’s an area set up for civilians to take refuge, go there—but don’t get used to it. One day you’ll be a hero, and there’s no such thing as safety for a hero.

And above all, stay out of Endeavor’s way while he works.

Shouto ducked out of the way when a few of the spectators panicked and bolted. He could see where the explosions had happened; smoke was drifting from within one of the smaller buildings that lined the street, and people were fleeing. Already the police were rallying, directing them, trying to throw together another protective perimeter now that the situation had changed so drastically.

Endeavor was still busy corralling both his sidekicks and the half-conscious villains, as well as assessing the possible bomb situation. He barely spared a glance toward Shouto.

Shouto took a step to follow the flow of traffic, and that was when the smoking building started to come down.

More blasts rang out, and the building folded in on itself like a poorly-made cake.

Shouto was nowhere near the blast zone; most of the civilians were well out of reach of any shrapnel from the falling building. His father was leading the charge—he and a few sidekicks made a dash for the fallen building, where a pack of villains had emerged cursing and covered in dust, and a handful of other heroes went into one of the neighboring buildings. Shouto could only assume that someone had seen something to lead them that way.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw someone moving against the flow. Shouto turned his head, and with a jolt he spotted someone dashing back, skirting police and heroes, weaving through the fallen rubble in the street in the direction of the still-collapsing building. The All-Might hoodie was unmistakable.

The collapse of a building is a gradual thing; it doesn’t all happen at once. Shouto could still see bits of it tipping over and falling, sending more debris and dust clouds into the street. It was unsteady and hazardous to begin with, and the fight breaking out between the responding heroes and the villains who had demolished it in the first place didn’t help matters.

It wasn’t the kind of situation even Endeavor would want him near (yet) but the boy didn’t seem to care about the risk of having roof tiles fall on his head. In spite of the danger—both from the situation itself and the risk of his father’s wrath if he did anything stupid—Shouto broke free of the crowd and dashed after him. This kid looked seven—eight, maybe, if Shouto was being generous. Shouto himself was barely pushing nine, but he seriously doubted this kid had nearly four years of training with the number-two hero under his belt.

With one eye watching his surroundings, he nearly caught up just as the boy was approaching the edge of the rubble pile that had once been the street in front of the building, and Shouto’s mouth dropped open. It was the cat from before, a scruffy-looking brown tabby now covered in dust and looking properly terrified, hiding in what little shelter a chunk of roofing could provide it.

Shouto raised his eyes, just in time to see his father unleash a blast of fire right in their general direction. The other boy was too preoccupied with not having his arms clawed off to notice, so Shouto moved.

He reached the boy in two steps, grabbed him by his jacket, and yanked him down to the ground just as flames sailed overhead. A startled high-pitched yelp came from the other boy, but Shouto didn’t release him, not even after the heat overhead dissipated. Once they were in the clear, he started towing the kid back toward relative safety.

“Wait—wait!” The other boy fought him, wriggled free, and scooped up the cat before finally turning to follow him back. Luckily for his arms, the animal seemed to be too petrified by the situation around it to put up a fuss about its rescue.

They made it back to the new safe zone, both of them winded from their mad dash to safety. By now, the fight on the destroyed building was a one-sided mess, and the heroes that had gone into the other building were now emerging, dragging out what looked like more criminals.

“Th-thank you!” Shouto looked over, and found himself staring at a pair of wide, bright green eyes. “And… um… sorry about that. You didn’t have to—”

“What were you even thinking?” Shouto blurted out. “You just—there’s a whole fight going on! Fa—Endeavor almost fried you!”

The boy winced, clutching the cat against his chest like a shield. Now more disgruntled than terrified, the animal squirmed in his grip until he finally lowered it to the ground and let it go. It bolted like its life depended on it, vanishing around the corner.

“Sorry,” the boy repeated. “I just—I saw it back there, and it wasn’t moving, and I was afraid maybe it was hurt, or something fell on it, or…” His voice trailed off, and to Shouto’s surprise he saw tears gathering in the boy’s eyes. “A-anyway, thanks again.”

“It’s fine, don’t—you don’t have to cry about it or anything.” Shouto felt horribly awkward; he was good at a lot of things, thanks to Endeavor, but he was not good at dealing with someone crying in front of him. “Just—that was pretty stupid of you, running in like that.”

The boy shuffled a little, shamefaced. “Well, what else was I supposed to do?”

“I don’t know, just… not do that?” Shouto’s voice trailed off, and he shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. Truth be told, he was very glad that the cat was now running off somewhere else, far away from villains and bombs and falling buildings, rather than lying squashed in the rubble. And yet… “What’d you run in like that for?”

The boy shrugged. “I dunno, what’d you run in after me for?”

Shouto twitched. “I-I… you were too far away to yell, and I wasn’t sure anybody else saw you.”

The boy nodded decisively, as if Shouto had somehow proven his point. “Yeah, well, I didn’t think they could see the cat either. I didn’t see anybody else running after it, so I did.”

“…Oh.” Shouto searched his brain for some kind of response, and found none. “Are your, um, parents anywhere?”

“No.” The boy flushed scarlet. “I was on my way home from school… I should probably go before my mom worries.”

“Okay.” Shouto paused, wondering at the sudden feeling of disappointment. If the boy was leaving, and the fight was over, then that meant Shouto would have to go home soon. He didn’t quite want to go home, especially when out here, apparently, were friendly kids his age who rescued cats just because, who didn’t press him to talk about Endeavor, and who had interesting things to say about All-Might instead.

The boy paused. “Do you watch hero battles a lot?” he asked.

“Yes.” It wasn’t like he had much choice.

The kid’s freckled face broke into a grin again. “Cool! Maybe I’ll see you around again?”

“M-maybe.” Shouto could hope. Maybe a friendly face would make these assignments more bearable.

“What’s your name?”

“It’s To—” He stopped short. If he did see this boy again, then it’d be nice if he still didn’t know. “Shouto. My name’s Shouto.”

“Nice to meet you, Shouto!” Another bright smile, all white teeth and bright green eyes. “My name’s Izuku. Thanks for talking to me! Bye!” With that, he was gone.

Shouto held out hope, the next few times Father dragged him out to spectate. But the timing was never right, apparently. Eventually he lost count of how many battles had passed since he last saw the green-eyed boy who liked cats and All-Might, and he stopped hoping.

---

It wasn’t until years later—seven of them, to be exact—that he sat staring off into space, waiting for his first day of high school to start, and tuning out the shouting match between two of his new classmates, that a voice jolted him back to the present.

“Shouto?”

He started at the sound of his given name. No one called him that, outside of his family. Blinking out of his daze, he turned his head and found himself looking at bright green eyes and a dusting of freckles.

“It is you!” It was harder to recognize, without an All-Might hoodie or a frightened cat to give him away, but Shouto felt the tug in his memory all the same. “Do you remember me? O-oh, maybe you don’t, it was pretty long ago, and it was just one time, but…”

“Cat,” Shouto blurted out.

Those unmistakable green eyes blinked. “Huh?”

“You ran into the middle of a fight to grab a cat,” Shouto went on. “I remember.” He hesitated, groping about in his memory. “…Izuku?”

His new classmate beamed, and Shouto… wasn’t surprised.

It was almost funny, how thoroughly fitting this was. He wondered how he hadn’t seen it coming. A grade-school boy, running toward a collapsing building in a miniature battleground, to rescue a cat that didn’t even belong to him.

Where else would he end up but U.A.?

#tododeku week #tododeku #my hero academia #fanfiction #tales from the pit

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5hfanfiction · 7 years

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Amnesia Ch. 21

Lauren

With the way things went a few days ago, I didn’t expect for Camila to bounce back and act like nothing happen. She didn’t ask me anything, just like she said she wouldn’t. But she did talk to me and even laughed. We had very simple conversations and she didn’t exclude me from anything she would talk to the other girls about. It was like we were just band mates.

Not that it was a problem for me to just be band mates with her. First and foremost that is what we were. We were in a girl group together and we were here to work together. Fighting shouldn’t be part of that. Or kissing. Or seeing each other naked. Or having a relationship other than a professional one.

But…

Deep down, I knew I was in the wrong and I needed to apologize for my behavior the other day. I was playing a dangerous game with the way I was hot and then cold the next minute. If I kept this up, I would surely alienate Camila and that would cause damage not only to me but to the girls as well. They didn’t need to be thrown in the chaos Camila and I called friendship. It wasn’t fair to them to have to pickup the pieces. I’m sure they were getting tired of the same old song and dance.

With tomorrow being a day off, I suppose I could take the time to talk to Camila. Really talk to her this time and just set the record straight once and for all. Just to be fair to both of us. I’d have to ask her tonight before she made any plans that would take her away the whole day.

Having just wrapped up the show in Buenos Aires, all of us were in the dressing room getting changed. Except for Camila. She wasn’t here. I scanned the room once more trying to locate her but she was nowhere to be found within these four walls.

Quickly changing into something simple and packing away my stuff into my suitcase, I walked out of the room in search of the brunette. I ran into some of the members of the band. I asked one of them if they had seen Camila, to which he told me they had seen her walk off with Ash earlier. Thanking him, I walked off in the direction I assumed they would have gone.

My jealousy surged by hearing Ash’s name. She had been spending an awful amount of time with Ash in between the practices and the concerts. They had become inseparable. Just like we had been when I came back into the group.

Well no shit. You friend zoned her. What else do you expect her to do? Stick around and hope someday you’ll pick her?

I let out a frustrated sigh. The voice in my head was right. I couldn’t expect Camila to wait for me and expect her to not make friends or find relationships. I was pushing her to do that but keeping her as just a friend.

“So what do you think about this? I don’t know if it sounds right. Maybe it would sound better on the piano.”

I held my breath hearing Camila’s voice from the room I was about to pass. I stopped and leaned up against the wall so I could listen in on what was going on. It was not the correct thing to do, but I didn’t want to interrupt whatever it was that was going on.

“I think you could be right. Why don’t you try it? There’s one here and that way you know if you can eliminate the idea or use it.” I heard someone get up and their steps as they walked across the room. There was the sound of a chair being pushed against the floor of the room.

At this point, I could only assume that Camila was the one who had gotten up and was the one who was going to play the piano.

When did she learn to play the piano?

“Now don’t make fun of me. I’m still learning how to play correctly." Camila said.

"Don’t worry about it.” Ash told her. Well I assumed it was her since Camila had been with Ash the last time someone saw her.

Stay back, stay long, and you move on

I stress, come close, move on, please don't

Hello, how are you? How you’ve been?

Lately I wonder how it feels to steal your kiss

Nothing much, just fine I’m doing well

And you can read between the lines

But God, I fell

My knees buckled under me as I listened to Camila sing. The lyrics of the song struck a chord inside me.

I only told the moon, tonight up on the roof

I told her that I’m scared that all my thoughts they look like you

I only told the moon, about the way you move

I asked her to please tell me if you tell things to her too

I slid down the wall until I was sitting on the floor, my legs jello from hearing Camila sing. The lyrics were deafening. They were ringing in my ears as if a bomb had exploded in my head.

Silence, too loud

Say it, not now

So how are you? How you’ve been?

Lately I wonder how it feels to taste your lips

Nothing much, just fine I’m doing well

And you can read between the lines

But God, I fell

I only told the moon, tonight up on the roof

I told her that I’m scared that all my thoughts they look like you

I only told the moon, about the way you move

I asked her to please tell me if you tell things to her too

That I give it all to you, I give it all to you

I give it all to you, I only told the moon

Ahhhh

And another love song will play on the radio, you know

Ahhhh

And I’ll wait for the moon to lean in close and say

That she only told the moon, tonight up on the roof

She told me that she’s scared that all her thoughts they look like you

I only told the moon, about the way you move

I asked her to please tell me if you tell things to her too

That I give it all to you, I give it all to you

I give it all to you

She only told the moon, she only told the moon

The last chord of the song hung in the air until Camila released the sustain pedal.

Did she really think about our kisses? Did she think of all the moments we had just a few weeks ago? Is this how she truly felt?

What if this song wasn’t even about me or us? What if it was about some other girl? Did Camila have any other relationships with girls?

Oh God. Could it be possible? The questions floated around my head, making me feel sick to my stomach.

“What do you think?” Camila asked Ash.

“I think it sounds way better on the piano than on guitar.”

“I’m thinking the same thing. I’m also thinking I should change the ‘she’ to 'he’. I don’t know if I could be brave enough to keep it with 'she’.” I could hear the worry in Camila’s voice and I could just picture her biting her lip and her eyebrows furrowed from the worry.

“Do what you think is right. I haven’t known you guys for long but I do know that your fans will accept you if you were straight, bi, a lesbian or an alien. They love you guys for who you are. If you like girls, so what?”

“It’s not the fans I’m worried about Ash.” There was hesitation in her voice. “I’m worried about management…and my parents, especially my parents. Hispanics, they don’t accept…I don’t want them to hate me.”

“If they truly love you, they’ll keep loving you. Don’t stop being true to yourself just because everyone else says what you do or what you believe in is wrong.”

Up until this point I had never asked Camila what her sexuality was. It wasn’t a big issue for me if she was straight and bi-curious or a full on lesbian. Hearing her pretty much that she was a lesbian did come as a shocker. I never associated Camila and lesbian before, let alone placed them in the same sentence.

So the question of the hour was: is the song about me or some other girl?

“Thanks Ash.” There was a hint of a smile in the timbre of her voice.

“You’re welcome. Can I ask you something?”

“Yeah. Go ahead.”

“Is the song about Lauren?”

My heart stopped in my chest, my body seizing up from the lack of proper blood flow. I wanted to know, but at the same time I didn’t want to know. What if it wasn’t about me? It would kill me to know she had been or was in love with someone else.

I forced myself off the floor, my legs shaking as I put my weight back on them again.

I didn’t want to hear it. I couldn’t bear to hear her say someone else’s name. I took off, running down the hall and back to the dressing room where it was safe.

“Lauren! Have you seen Camila? We have to leave for the airport or we’ll be late.”

I pointed somewhere behind me, unable to find the words to speak to Dinah and communicate that Camila was down the hall. Pushing past Dinah, I made it into our “dressing room” to get my suitcase and other things.

“Lauren! Oh my… Are you okay? Why are you crying?” Ally was walking out of the room just as I was walking in.

I was crying?

I reached up and touched my cheeks. Sure enough my cheeks were wet with the tears my eyes were producing. I wiped away at them angrily; upset with myself for feeling anything towards Camila. Why did I care so much if she wrote that song about me? Why did I even care if it was about someone else? Why did I care if she found someone else and didn’t wait for me to figure out my life?

I was acting like a child over something that had never begun.

“I’m fine.” I told Ally, dismissing her worry for me.

“Are you–”

I cut Ally off waving my hand to stop her. “I’m fine.” I gritted through my teeth, my voice full of anger.

I grabbed my suitcase and my other things so I could leave the room and go to our bus so I could sit in the back by myself.

Ally stood by the door looking at me with concern.

“I’m fine Ally.” I reiterated for her. “Just…please.”

Reluctantly she nodded her head walking out the door before me. I followed out the door, briefly seeing that Camila and Dinah were huddled down the hall where I had been sitting. I stared for a second too long because Camila’s eyes caught me staring at them. The moment her eyes connected with mine, I flinched away.

My idea to talk to Camila so we could resolve our differences didn’t seem so great anymore. Maybe it was best to leave things the way they were.

___________________________

“I don’t understand this at all. I’m going crazy, you guys.”

“You’re never going to understand it unless you talk with both of them.”

“But that’s the thing Alexa. I don’t have the strength to talk to Camila anymore. And I don’t want to have this conversation with Lucy over the phone. It wouldn’t be right.”

“Well who do you want?”

That was the problem. Which was why I was up at 4 in the morning talking to Alexa and Vero on a three-way call so I could figure it out. I was pacing the room, something I had been doing since I

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out. Everything keeps pointing to Camila but… Then when Camil and I were kissing–”

“You and Camila kissed?!" Alexa screeched over the phone.

"Yeah. We spent like a week kissing and practically acting like girlfriends.”

“What?! And you didn’t tell us?" Vero screeched, almost as loud as Alexa had.

"I’ve been busy,” I defended. Truth of the matter was that I hadn’t really thought of telling anyone what happened. I only told Dinah and Normani because they had gotten it out of me and I didn’t really see a choice in the matter.

“Too busy to slip it into our texting conversations? You could have put it in there. Would have shocked the hell out of us, but nonetheless it could have been done." Vero stated.

"Ignore her. Tell us the rest of the problem and why you’re in this predicament.”

I sighed. “This next part doesn’t leave our group. Too many people know already.”

“Promise.” They said at the same time.

“I took Camila to my favorite spot and well I told her that if she wanted to be more, she could decide it for us. I didn’t have any reserves on what she chose. Well, while we were kissing I remembered something. I remembered kissing…Lucy…”

“What?!”

“Shit!"

"Long story short, I went to Lucy’s, kissed her and then she confessed she was in love with me. That she always has been. In my memory, she told me that she loved me too. Then I asked her about Camila and I to which she told me to go away because I always end up choosing Camila.” I stopped to take in a breath. “Then I went back home where Camila was waiting for me and I ended up telling Camila that I couldn’t be her girlfriend.”

As I was talking, I relived that night; from the anger on Lucy’s face to the heartbreak I caused Camila to the anger Camila eventually had to where we exchanged anger filled words. It was not my proudest moment.

Pulling myself out of my thoughts, I focused on Vero and Alexa to see what they would say. When neither one said anything, I started panicking. What if they thought I was an idiot?

“Alexa? Vero? Are you guys still there?”

“Here.” Alexa said.

“Same.” Vero said after. “You got your memory back?”

“No, just one memory.” More like 4 or 5 of them.

“Damn. That’s just bad timing on your brain’s part Laur.”

“I know. You don’t know how much I wish that hadn’t happened. Because of that I fucked up with both of them. I barely got Lucy to start talking to me again and I friend zoned Camila. But then I see Camila talking to other girls and I lose my shit. Just on the flight over to Peru, I was jealous of the flight attendant. Then today, I pretty much listened in on a conversation I should have never listened to in the first place. And to add on top of that, I heard Camila sing a song that may or may not be about me.

"She was discussing it all with Ashley–our guitarist for the tour; who I’m jealous of as well. One moment I’m telling Camila I want to friends and the next I’m doing stupid things like listening in on private conversations like some love sick puppy.” I finished my little rambling session, drawing in a deep breath to replenish the oxygen in my body.

“First of all, learn how to breathe babe. I don’t think you took a breath the whole time you were talking. Second of all, where does Lucy fall into this? All I’m hearing is about Camila. To me, that sounds like you’ve already made up your mind. And third of all, if you’ve already made up your mind, why are you still trying to figure things out?"

"That’s the thing! I haven’t. How can I make up my mind if I haven’t talked to Lucy? Is that fair of me to just choose and not give her a chance to make me lose my shit too?”

“Well, if you went on her Instagram, I’m sure you could find a way to lose your shit over her as well.”

“But that’s not the point, Vero. Lauren, you’ve got to ask yourself: why haven’t you been jealous of Lucy’s interactions with someone else before? Or been upset over her as you’ve been over Camila?”

“I was upset over not speaking to Lucy. I didn’t mean to hurt her. I don’t remember the moments in between. The ones between Camila and I or the ones with Lucy…except for that memory. Therein lies my problem. I’ve got like two or three pieces of a 500 piece jigsaw puzzle. Without the rest, I’ll never be able to complete it.”

“Then why not just use your heart?" Alexa suggested.

"My heart?”

“Yeah, the organ on the left side of your body? Does that ring a bell?” Vero asked me sarcastically.

“I know where my heart is.”

“Ask a stupid question…" Vero said.

I rolled my eyes.

"When it comes to love, I think the heart is probably your best guide. And like I said, it sounds like you’ve already made up your mind.”

I refused to believe I had chosen when I hadn’t even had a talk with Lucy. How could I just make a decision without having a full disclosure of everything? It wasn’t making sense. My brain refused to believe what my “heart” knew.

“I guess,” I said indistinctly.

“Why are you so stubborn? You always have to learn the hard way, don’t you?”

“It’s in my nature.”

Three sharp knocks to my hotel room door stopped the pacing I had been doing for the past hour or so.

“Uhhhh…someone’s at the door.”

“Isn’t it like 5 in the morning in Brazil?”

“Yeah. Let me see who it is.”

Apprehensively, I opened the door to my room. Before me stood Camila. A flashback of the night she came storming in when I had blown up on the girls at the club ran through my mind. This time was nothing like last time.

“Happy birthday Lauren!” She was holding a cupcake that had one candle on it which was lit. My heart skipped at beat.

I couldn’t help the smile that appeared on my face seeing her here holding a cupcake for my birthday. It was extremely thoughtful of her to be awake at this time just for me.

“Make a wish.” Camila held out the cupcake for me to blow out the candle.

I made a wish that I would soon figure my life out and blew out the candle to prevent any wax from getting on the cupcake.

“Guys? I have to go. Camz is here.” I told Alexa and Vero.

“Have fun with Camila, Lauren!”

“Bye!”

I threw my arms around Camila, thanking her profusely as I hugged her. With how impromptu my movement was she hardly had any time to move the cupcake out of the way.

“Thank you so much Camz.” I leaned back out of the hug, missing the feel of her pressed against me immediately. The feeling of her against me felt so good, it felt so right.

“No need to thank me. It’s what friends are for. Birthdays are such special markers in life that need to be celebrated. You taught me that.”

Right. We were friends. Friends didn’t think about how it felt to have their friend pressed up against them.

“Well they are. Birthdays are super important."

"And because you love birthdays, I have planned a special day for you if you’ll let me?”

Camila had planned a special day for me? She took the time to make my day special? Wow…

While Camila was acting like the friend she was supposed to, I was acting like some jealous girlfriend. I was overreacting and behaving atrociously.

I was the ass that Camila said I was.

“You didn’t have to go out of your way to plan something."

"I wanted to. You would have done the same for me.”

But I didn’t even know when her birthday was.

“I’m ashamed to say I don’t know when your birthday is.”

“And that’s okay because you kind of have amnesia which kind of made you forget.”

“Um…” It still wasn’t right for me not to know.

“So is it a yes?”

“Yes.” I blurted out before I could change my mind.

“Yay. I was hoping you would say yes. Now eat your cupcake so we can go. I’ve got a lot planned for you.” Her smile was radiant and it was real. She looked really excited.

I grabbed the cupcake from her hand, taking a small bite out of it. “Can I just make one small request?” My question came out muffled by the cupcake that I was still chewing.

Camila giggled while covering her mouth. “Anything you want Lo. It’s your birthday.”

“I want a cup of the strongest coffee possible.”

“I think that’s more than doable.” Grabbing my free hand, she dragged me out of my hotel room.

#UPDATE #series #non AU #camren #based on song #submission #Amnesia

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mouldedweapon · 7 years

Text

Recollections of a Forgotten Past (Epilogue)

Epilogue

{ They say a person needs just three things to be truly happy in this world:

someone to love, something to do, and something to hope for.}

― Tom Bodett

She was in her mother’s arms.

It was so soft, so gentle; it held her close like it was afraid to lose her again.

Why did you let me go, Mama?

She grasped those arms tightly, snuggling against her mother’s body.

A mother’s warmth, that was what she yearned for. Her lips curled up into a satisfied smile – everything else was forgotten. She smiled happily, blissfully. She hadn’t worked those muscles in such a long time, she was afraid they wouldn’t work for her anymore. For a long while, she was content in just hugging her mother and listening to her calm breathing. Everything was serene. And for the first time in a long time, she was happy.

Mama, let’s be together forever. She mumbled, burying her face into the nape of her mother’s neck.

It was then her body froze, her iron-made instincts screamed at her to get away. She jerked away, suddenly noticing that her mother’s skin had turned ice-cold.

Mama…? She asked uncertainly, staring into her mother’s eyes. In a second, those laughing brown eyes turned into deep pools of black holes, and her mother began to transform into something twisted.

She screamed, kicking as she backed away further and further from the monster which was transforming in front of her. Her mother’s limbs broke apart one by one, until no more than a stub was left; and her hair started falling down like leaves during autumn. Her skin changed into angry pink, and her face morphed and morphed until it looked like something strikingly familiar –

Mother…

“No… Get away, get away from me!!” She wanted to get on her feet and run, but somehow they turned into dead weight. She could only drag herself away from the figure who was calling her, her eyes already wet with tears.

Mother…. Why are you running away…?

“No… please…” Knowing there was no way out, she covered her face with her hands, her hands full of blood. And suddenly everything turned red, everything was painful, and everything was a nightmare.

She was the mother now. She was the one who turned her child away. She was the one who ran away from her son.

She had yearned for a mother’s warmth, yet she had never given it to her own son. She was hurt at her mother for letting them take her away, but that was the very thing she let happen to him. She had once blamed her mother for not protecting her, but she could not even protect her own son. It was not fair , she cried, she never had a chance, she never had a chance, she wanted to, but she just never had a chance .

The figure continued haunting her, taunting her, driving her to the corner where there was nowhere else to back away and screamed, and wept and accused her of everything she had ever accused her mother of.

And she sobbed, and sobbed, and sobbed.

*****

When she woke up, the first thing she realised was that she was lying on something soft.

It took her awhile to register that she was lying on a bed. She had almost forgotten how it felt like, and it was so comfortable she could forget about the pain for a moment.

It was dark, save for the moonlight shimmering in from the windows of the room she was in. She couldn’t move, so she tried to make sense of her surroundings using what she could see in her line of vision.

“You’re awake,” said the dark-haired teenager who was sitting on a chair near her bed. The shadows cast by the trees outside played across his face, obscuring his facial features from her vision.

Seven opened her mouth and tried to talk, but her throat was so dry she ended up coughing instead.

“Here.” Water was placed against her lips, and she managed several small sips. The young man then removed the glass and put it on the table again.

“Where–” She started, but the man in black shook his head and told her not to speak.

“You are safe now.” He said simply, giving her what she supposed, was a smile. It seemed like he was feeling rather uncomfortable, or more appropriately, awkward. It seemed like he didn’t know what to say or what to explain for his actions.

She couldn’t understand it either. She was more confused than happy at her survival. Why was it her who survived? Why did she survive, after she had decided to give up? Why was he there? Why did he save her?

All those questions remain unanswered, he did not give her any answers, and she did not ask.

After a few days of resting, she soon found out from the nurses that the young man’s name was ‘Emiya Kiritsugu’. Despite having no relationship to her and having no reason to save her, he visited her every day at the hospital, paid for her medical fees, asked the doctors and nurses about her condition.

She could not fathom why he would go to such lengths to help her. Being mistreated and tossed around for so long, it was the act of kindness that struck fear into her heart, her mind struggling to find a reason for justify his actions. She found none. Every day she waited for him to provide some sort of explanation, even as he only visited for a few minutes each day. She did not know where he was from, as he spoke her language with a foreign accent. There was no problems with communication, since he hardly spoke to her anyway. Yet, it was this man of few words that made her nervous - as if she was about to pay a huge price for the kindness she had received.

And she was anxious to find out what it was.

The day before she was discharged, he sat down beside her bed.

“I need an assistant.” He said simply.

Those four words seem to make everything fall in place. Seven nodded for him to continue. She was right, there was a price to pay. After all those days of guessing and waiting, she was finally going to hear it. Even though the doctors and nurses have been nothing but gentle and kind to her, there was always an underlying suspicion that they were going to do something awful to her after the initial caring treatment. She had never been treated like this before, and the confused soldier was simply at a loss of what to think.

“I am an assassin.” The man named Kiritsugu said. “If you are willing to kill for a living, I can train you.”

What surprised Seven the most was not that he was an assassin or that he was offering to train her.

It was the fact that he was giving her a choice.

She blinked, unsure of how to react. He was allowing her to say no? Wouldn’t that mean that everything he had done for her would be in vain? She had been ready to become a slave, to be sold, or even to suffer a worser fate, but all her was asking her was to do what she had been doing her whole life - to kill for a living. And she was free to refuse.

“Why me?” She asked, the questions finally pouring out of her mouth. “Why did you save me?”

“It was too late to save anyone else.” He shrugged. “You were the only one who was still breathing.”

Seven stared. His answer seemed to make sense, yet it left her with more questions. Why was he there? Why did he wander into a bombing zone? Who was he?

She kept her mouth shut. It was against the rules to ask questions, she remembered. Only she wasn’t in the barracks anymore. She was with a man named Emiya Kiritsugu and was about to become his assistant.

She wondered if he would whip her the same way they had if she asked him those questions.

“I will follow you.” She replied. She had a purpose now , she thought. She had nowhere else, no one else to go to.

Emiya Kiritsugu nodded solemnly. “What is your name?”

“511207.”

He frowned. “I meant your real name.”

Confusion swept across her face again. “That is my n ― ”

It was then she remembered.

Emiya Kiritsugu is his name.

Her name was a number.

I meant your real name.

A wave of panic rushed through her veins as she struggled to answer his question. She had a real name , she reasoned. She had just forgotten it because they were all commanded to forget their real names. But that wasn’t all, there were more things that she had forgotten. Her past. What was she doing before she arrived at the barracks? Where was she living? Who was she living with? Her family? Did she have a mother ―

Her thoughts were interrupted by a sharp sting that seemed to slice through her head. She whimpered, clutching her head in agony as pain engulfed her soul, blocking her from retrieving her memories. Like a blade, it sawed through her skull over and over again, the pain getting worse when she tried again to access her locked memories. Her fingers tugged at her hair as she curled herself into a ball, shaking and groaning as she forgot about Kiritsugu and the hospital that she was in, and everything in her world was pain, only pain.

She couldn’t hear Kiritsugu yelling at her, telling her to calm down. She couldn’t feel his steady arms on her wrists, trying to pry them away from scratching harshly at her scalp. She couldn’t see the doctors and nurses rushing in, lifting up her sleeve to insert a needle into her right arm...

As her mind slowly became numb, and her body lost all energy, she felt someone gently laying her down on her bed. Looking up with a rather hazy vision, she could somewhat make out the face of a stranger with dark hair, the man who saved her life, now her mentor.

“We’ll just have to think up a new name, then.” He said in a low voice.

Watching the way he tucked her in, the way he spoke to the doctors urgently about something that sounded like ‘post traumatic stress disorder’, and the way he looked at her not of pity, but of purpose…

She silently pledged her life to follow him wherever he went.

And then all was black.

*****

She was given a passport shortly after.

Her name was Hisau Maiya.

#my fanfic #recollections of a forgotten past #hisau maiya #emiya kiritsugu #reviews and constructive criticism are welcome!

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floraexplorer · 5 years

Text

Anxiety Stole My Love Of Travel. This Is How I’m Fixing It.

It’s a pitch-black night on an Estonian island, and I’m having an anxiety attack.

Just ahead on the narrow road, the light from Kim’s torch skitters over the gravel as she flashes it in an arc towards me. Her bike stays level and continues moving forward: she’s a good enough cyclist to easily maintain her balance with just one hand on the handlebars.

“Flora? Are you OK?”

My bike is snaking and wobbling all over the place. I’ve completely lost my balance. It’s as if cycling in the dark has caused my mind to lose all sense of what’s up and what’s down.

“… Yeah… I’m just… I can’t see…”

I strain my eyes in the hope of making out the grass verges on either side – but there’s nothing. No streetlights. No moon. Nothing but Kim’s torchlight far ahead, and the pitiful bike light clipped onto my handlebars. It gives off a watery glow which does nothing to reassure me.

I can feel the darkness closing in as my heart pounds, my mouth goes dry and the rushing noise in my ears reaches a crescendo. I’m trying my hardest to keep this anxiety attack totally internal. I really don’t want my friend to see the full enormity of it.

We’re twenty minutes away from the house. How on earth am I supposed to keep going in this state?

I never used to be this anxious.

It feels like a distant memory now, but I was once a much more relaxed traveller. I could arrive at airports with minutes to spare. I used to throw my stuff into a bag and not care if I’d forgotten anything. The idea of activities outside my comfort zone – hiking along narrow mountain passes, crawling underground, opting for adrenaline-fuelled activities – used to be more thrilling than terrifying.

But somewhere down the line, things changed.

If I’ve booked an early flight, I spend all night worrying whether I’ll wake up in time. When I board public transport, I worry if I have enough water or whether I’ll need the bathroom. Thoughts of terrorism and earthquakes are always in the back of my mind.

And although I’ve successfully done it copious times in other countries, apparently now I’m even anxious about riding a bike.

Read more: The most adventurous travel challenges I’ve ever faced

What does my anxiety look like?

According to my therapist, I have Generalised Anxiety Disorder. For me, that means dizziness, a speeding heart rate, a pulsing in my fingertips, a sensation like I’m almost outside myself – and usually a firm certainty that I’m in a lot of danger, or possibly going to die.

That stomach-plummeting sense of dread accompanies much of my time, and often it’s related to uncertainty. I can’t seem to handle surprises in the way I used to; like I’m interpreting anything unexpected as a immediate threat instead of its potential to be positive.

And so I feel anxious whenever turbulence rocks my plane; when someone looks suspicious; when I hear raised voices; when a group of teenagers are laughing too loud; when I hear a noise outside my door at night; when a stranger walks past me too fast.

What’s more worrying is when the anxiety suddenly happens out of nowhere, causing me to mentally take stock of what could be causing it. Anxiety begets anxiety, and it can be an exhausting BASTARD.

Where does this anxiety come from?

I’ve always been a somewhat anxious person, but it’s safe to say that my current GAD-level of anxiety stems from grief. It only recently occurred to me that before my dad was dying, I don’t think I automatically assumed every scenario would have the worst possible outcome.

But grief turns expectations on their head. If the loss of my parents, the worst thing I ever imagined, could actually happen – twice – what’s to stop everything else going wrong?

The problem is that, if left unchecked, this anxiety has the power to totally monopolise my life. Forget turbulent flights – anxiety could stop me taking public transport for fear of a terrorist bomb going off. Forget packing woes – anxiety can prevent me from leaving the house because I can’t decide what clothes to wear.

It came into startling clarity when a therapist illustrated how easily I could never do ‘anything’ again. If I allowed this anxiety to fully take over, I might as well hide forever in an underground bunker in an attempt to counter the ‘what-if’ situations which could possibly befall me.

How much of myself am I willing to lock away in order to feel safe?

Read more: The self care strategies I use to improve my mental health

How I deal with my travel anxiety

The first thing I try to remember is that it’s extremely common to feel anxious – particularly when you travel. There’s so much that’s new and confusing, from the language, food and climate to the unsettling sense of isolation.

It took me a long time to admit that I often felt anxious abroad, because I felt like I was betraying my blogging persona of being a ‘strong solo female traveller’. When I wrote about it though, I discovered just how many others felt the same type of travel anxiety as I did.

Here are some of the methods I’ve learned to combat my travel anxiety:

– Going to therapy.

I started going to CBT therapy regularly this year and it’s been a game changer for me. My therapist helps me identify what my main anxiety triggers are, and then we work together on methods I can easily use to combat them.

– Understanding my anxiety triggers.

I’ve learned that I do a lot of ‘predicting the future’ thinking which I then immediately assume will be fact. Same with polarised ‘black & white’ thinking, where I can’t seem to imagine a middle ground. The more I notice my thoughts going down these tracks, the more I can relinquish the habit.

– Establishing a routine.

After years of constant travel, keeping some kind of routine is crucial for me. It can be as small as getting up at the same time each day, finding a nearby cafe to get my coffee from each morning, or making sure I go for a run every few days.

– Outwardly admitting I have anxiety.

I didn’t realise how much this would shift things for me, but explaining my anxious thoughts with other people in the moment they’re happening often manages to pull me out of the process. Case in point: as we flew above Estonia and I felt the turbulence jolt through my nervous system, I told Kim that I was anxious – and she patiently talked me through it until I felt better.

Read more: Sometimes I’m scared to travel – but I don’t let it stop me

Facing my anxieties on Kihnu island

Unfortunately I know battling my anxiety is a long-term issue, and there’s always another challenge. So when we arrive on Estonia’s Kihnu island for their annual Ancient Lights celebration and Kim suggests we hire some bikes, I flinch inside.

My immediate thought process? “I haven’t ridden a bike for ages, I won’t be fit enough, I don’t want to, what if I fall off? It’s happened before…”

But one of the only ways to properly explore Kihnu island is on a bike – so I swallow my nervousness, and off we go.

Our reason for visiting Kihnu island is for their annual bonfire celebration at the end of August. At the turn of the season the Baltic countries traditionally light fires along the coastline, bidding farewell to the end of summer and welcoming in the winter dark.

Kihnu is sparsely populated. Only two hundred people call the island home, and they live in four little villages dotted amongst the countryside. There are no street lamps lit each evening. Residents drive their cars or cycle their bikes, and trust in their own abilities to navigate the night.

We spend the afternoon cycling in the sun, and I actually enjoy myself once I get back into the saddle. But by the time we leave the Ancient Lights bonfires to cycle back to our guesthouse, it’s close to 11pm. An indisputably dark night: a waxing crescent moon means there isn’t even the thinnest sliver in the sky.

The bonfire light is a distant memory as my bike swerves. I can’t stop my anxieties from multiplying. A car might come out of nowhere and run us down. I’ll veer horribly into the verge and crash and injure myself. Something – anything – unexpected and sudden and sharp and swift is going to happen.

And all of these anxious thoughts are whirling through my head at hyper speed like a crowd of bats at dusk.

My bike swerves yet again, and in the midst of knowing how scared and panicked I am, I nonetheless feel a firmer version of my own voice edging its way to the fore.

“Come on, Flora – it’s not that bad. Nothing’s actually going to happen to you.”

I try my best to throw my imagination back just a few hours to the forest we’d cycled through earlier. The impossibly tall pine trees; the soft light draped between the branches; the sound of the wind buzzing in my ears as I pedalled ever faster down the empty path. The extraordinary sense of exhilaration I felt – something I haven’t felt too often recently.

Buoyed on by this memory, I try to put aside the anxiety this darkness instills in me and do my best to reframe it. I switch on my phone’s torch, tucking it securely into my bra and facing it out towards the road. There’s still not much light, but it’s enough: the heaviness around my vision clears and I find my balance once again.

And as I push into the pedals and begin to move, I suddenly realise what I’ve been missing all this time. The sky above is lit up with thousands upon thousands of stars. There are too many to comprehend. It’s like flecks of white paint sprayed from a brush, or a thousand moths nipping holes in deep dark fabric.

I gasp, swerve, and nearly fall off the bike as I attempt to brake.

“KIM! Kim Kim Kim!!”

She turns, thinking something’s gone wrong – but what I’ve seen flying high above us is an absolutely surreal shooting star; a blinding brightness with a solid thick trail in its wake.

Anxiety can be your superpower (if you let it)

Someone recently told me that far from being a hindrance, anxiety is actually a superpower. Those of us who are constantly primed and alert, noticing all surrounding details, fully feeling everything possible – and even the self-doubt which constantly ricochets around our minds: it all comes together to make us ready for anything.

Don’t let the darkness stop you moving forward. Sometimes it’s there to be embraced.

And sometimes all you need is a bit more light.

[This stunning image is by Kim Leuenberger]

Disclaimer: I cycled around Kihnu island thanks to Visit Estonia, but I highly doubt they were expecting me to write about my anxious fears of falling off a bike. Nonetheless, it allowed me to think more deeply about this topic – and for facilitating a night sky I will never forget.

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