#ok well assuming it's a place where all my needs are met and I'm given human-appropriate shit to do

[piffany666]

Ok just one more punk progeny won't hurt ~

Chapter 3: consent (part 2)

(Disclaimer: treasure and Bright eyes are the same person in this fic so just assume 3 things before reading, 1: Bright knows Porter is a vampire and vise versa, 2: I can't afford patrion but I do know what happend In the BA so if you have seen it just assume that they did bite each other they just didn't drink each others blood, 3: Bright dosnt know that Porter is a solaire. Got it? Ok)

TW. Mentions of mental health issues, abandonment issues and Foster care. Bright is ftm trans and uses he/him pronouns

Vincent and Bright had interacted before but not enough for Vincent to not feel nervous about talking to him. Especially about this.

William had told him what happened with Bright and that his answer was that he'd 'think about it'.

Now obviously Vincent wasn't going to sway him one way or the other,

But William had given him the vampire equivalent of 'dad's belt' for gossiping and causing that meeting with Bright to happen earlier than expected.

Besides, Vincent saw how egger William was to take in Bright so he just wanted to show Bright just how sweet this deal could be for him.

If he could just pluck up the courage to just walk over to him!

Just then, Vincent noticed Bright was stretching and groaning in a way that suggested he was stiff or in pain.

The perfect conversion starter.

"Ruff night?"

Bright turned his head towards him.

"Hmm? No actually, I had a great night"

He said this but still stretched out across the common room's couch.

Vincent knew what that meant, of course he did, he was Vincent!

"Yeah?~"

He didn't know where this 'small talk' was going but he was genuinely intrigued.

"Yeah. Went out, fully intended on getting wasted after a long and confusing day but then ran into some old friends and I hate getting drunk in front of people I know, so I got stuck as their double D-"

"Their what?"

"Double D, designated driver"

"Oooohh! OK continue"

"So yeah I got stuck, sober, then all of a sudden this guy comes up to me, lays it on real thick, so we started talking and I'm sure you of all people can figure out what happened after that"

"Wow good for you"

Bright hadn't told anyone this but he had met some of his and Fred's old friends from before....yeah.

You'd think they would have been a little bit concerned considering he and Fred had been 'missing' for ages now, but no.

When he finally sees his old 'friends' again....they didn't even care.

And yet, he still felt like he owed them for leaving and never coming back, so that's why he endured being their DD.

But a certain someone recently taught him that he didn't need to do that anymore.~

"He was also a vampire, which was kinda cool"

"Well I'm glad your mingling with vampires other than Sam and Fred"

There was a moment of silence between the two but then Vincent reminded himself of why he started talking to him in the first place.

"Speaking of mingling with other vampires, I heard about what happened with William"

Bright didn't answer

"And I also know I'm kinda what caused it so I came over here to apologise, it wasn't my news to tell, I'm sorry"

Bright's face went a lot colder than it was before but he still answered him, only he didn't look him in the eyes.

"It's cool, whatever..."

"Well I got the vampire equivalent of 'dad's belt' for gossiping about it so I thought I'd make it up to you"

Bright's face sofend with curiosity.

Vincent continued

"I thought it would be a good idea if I showed you what perks being a solaire Prince comes with"

"Wait-wait-wait!....Prince?"

Vincent held back a smirk.

"Yeah, William is the vampire king so becoming his progeny would make you a Prince, like me. I mean he's not your maker so you probably won't have the same level status as me or alexis but you'll still be classed as 'Prince'".

Bright eyes stared, starstruck. He remembered being a kid, running around with the "other girls" who were all dressed up like princesses, laughing and screaming with him chasing after them. He got yelled at for it later but he just didn't want to be a Princess.

He wanted to be a Prince.

And now, years later, literally after death,

He can be.

"Huh....I guess I never realised that..."

"Well It can be pretty cool, and since your considering it, I thought I'd give you a rundown on what it's like"

"What dose that mean...?"

"It basically just means,

Do you wanna go shopping with me?"

Vincent realised that this was a really long winded way of asking him that.

Bright then looked dead serious and got up from the couch, looked him in the eyes and said

"Vincent, I'm a gay, trans man who grew up with f*k all money

Of course I want to go shopping with you".

"Isn't she gorgeous?"

Bright looked In awe at the car Vincent was showing him.

He whistled

"Sweet ride"

"I know!"

He was smiling ear to ear.

"Wanna ride IN it?"

Vincent jingled the keys

"Can I drive?"

After Bright asked that, Vincent no short of belly laughed.

It took him a moment to pull himself together, but when he eventually managed to stop laughing he looked at Bright and coldly said

"NO"

Vincent opened the car and Bright slid in after him.

The sun had just gone down.

Bright still hadn't gotten used to the whole 'sleep-all-day-and-stay-up-all-night' deal. Usually he was a master at the 'stay-up-all-night' part but not so much the latter.

And considering what happened last night...let's just say he wasn't exactly 'Bright eyed and bushy tailed'.

"Could we get coffee while we're there (Wherever we're going)"

"Yeah of course"

Vincent wanted to avoid awkward silence as much as possible, he also genuinely wanted to get to know him, the real him.

Not the one Sam had told him about.

Besides

It could be cool...having a little brother.

"Sooo...your 'thinking about' being William's progeny?"

"Yep"

.....

"Can I ask why?"

Bright sighed

"Well it's like this, I hate being Sam's progeny, it sucks! Nothing I do is ever enough and whenever I get mad or frustrated that I'll never be as good a vampire as Fred HE gets mad at ME because it's my fault...its all my fault...

But it's not like I don't know that and it's not like apologising is gonna fix anything...."

Vincent took a moment to take all this in.

From what Sam had told him, Bright was just a punk with a bad attitude who couldn't accept the blame for what happened at wonderworld and was a jerk to everyone.

But that's not what Vincent saw.

He just saw himself.

Or who he used to be.

Bright had accepted that what happened was his fault, he just didn't think apologising would do anything.

"So...why not take the offer right away?"

He really didn't want to seem like he was trying to swing him one way or the other, he just wanted to know why he wouldn't, since he hated Sam and Fred so much.

"Because....im used to being passed around from person to person, I hate it. I don't want to be reminded of that feeling again. Especially if William at some point figure's out that I'm not the little broken kid he clearly thinks I am, cos to be honest,

I really am the worst"

.....

"What do you mean...your used to it?"

"Oh! I'm a Foster kid"

He said this much more casually than he did just previous statement.

That did make a lot of sense to Vincent though, and it did clear up a lot. However his reason for why he won't take up William's offer was... worrying.

But low self esteem was definitely something William could help with.

Most of Bright's problems could probably be solved by this agreement.

But that wasn't for Vincent to say.

"Well...im sorry"

"Don't be, its cool......your cool"

Vincent looked at him but he was facing the window

He chuckled.

"So what did you think of William?"

Bright perked up but then looked embarrassed

"Hes cool too..."

"Uh huh, hes been known to have this...power over 'troubled vampire youth'"

Bright scoffed

"I guess...there was just something about him that made me want to-"

"Trust him? Respect him?"

"Yeah! What's up with that?! Does he have like a....genetic dominance over other vampires or something?! I respect NO ONE THAT quickly!"

Vincent began laughing at his sudden outburst

"No, hes just kinda...like that I guess. It pissed me off SO much when I first became his progeny, but you don't seem as upset about it"

"Yeah well...its like I said

He was cool".

Vincent wanted to go on but by now they had reached the parking spot of their location.

"OK looks like we're here, get out"

They both left the car, Bright waited by the car as Vincent paid for the spot.

It looked like this was a regular spot for him

And probably Lovely too, thought Bright.

When Vincent came back from paying, Bright and him walked into the mall.

"So, coffee,"

"Oh god yes"

As soon as they stepped into the building, a Starbucks was waiting for them.

Bright practically ran up to it, put his hands on the counter and asked for a caramel macchiato with as many shots as they were legally allowed to put in.

When Vincent caught up to him he made his order and sat down at the nearest table, Bright joined him.

"So, based on that order I'm guessing the whole 'up all night and sleep all day' thing has been kicking your ass?"

"Keen observation, but aren't we suppose to not talk about that sort of stuff in public?"

Vincent shrugged then gestured towards their surroundings

"Bright, look around, it's getting late and no one is here! Besides vampires have....culturally been known to ummm not ignore covert but....bend the rules a lil"

"Huh...?"

"It's like that one bad stereotype that is completely true"

"Here are your orders guys!"

The batista gave them their drinks after they both thanked her.

They took a minute of silence just to indulge in their drink of choice.

Vincent was way more comfortable around Bright then he was before actually getting to know him.

From what Sam had said, he had assumed he'd be more....hostile....? But he wasn't, he was just like any other newborn but with the added angst of abandonment issues and god knows what else.

After Bright had taken a few sips he looked up at Vincent

"So what's the actual plan here? Like yeah we're at the mall but WHERE are we going?"

"Well I just thought we'd hit my usual spots, clothes shopping, maybe get some snacks and then head down to 711 or something"

Bright nodded.

"OK so basically everything you do with Lovely? Got it"

"Y-yeahh but please don't phrase it like that, it would be a lil weird considering who you would be to me if you agree"

Bright shot him a look of confusion.

"What do you mean?"

"Well" Vincent took another sip from his coffee "there's this general consensus that a mentor is supposed to act as a parental figure to their progeny, which means there progenys are kinda like siblings, at least that's how most of us view it...thats how I view it"

Bright paused. He had had many 'parental figures' throughout his life, none of them were ever permanent or knew how to handle him and his attitude.....why would this be any different?

He had also, as a result, had many siblings, but next to all of them were younger than him and if they weren't they were always older sisters.

He'd never had an older brother before.

"So...William's like your dad?"

"Yeah but just don't ever call him 'father' ok?"

Vincent seemed serious, it made Bright eyes a little nervous

"O-ok why?"

"He gets super defensive about how he's not a father"

"O-oh, yeah, right"

Bright's head hung a little but he didn't know why.

He didn't want another failed attempt at a father figure to be added to the list so why was he-

Vincent interrupted his train of thought when he tilted his head down to be at eye level with Bright

"But he IS like a 'dad' he will always tell you that".

Bright's head perked back up, still not knowing quite why

"But thats only if you agree that is now come on you can finish that on the way, I have a shopping craze that needs to be satisfied"

Bright got up, sipping his coffee along the way, then a smirk crawled on his face as a thought popped into his head.

"Hey you got turned when you were like 2 years older than me right?"

Vincent looked back at him, worried where this conversation was going.

"Y-Yeah why?"

The smirk got wider

"So do you shop at forever 21?"

After saying this he bust out laughing

"Oh you lil shit come here!"

Vincent said playfully.

He lunged for him but Bright ducked and ran, Vincent followed on.

There was basically on one there, it was like back in the old days when Bright and Fred would check out abandoned buildings together.

For the first time in ages, Bright didn't let that memory bother him, he just ran and howled playfully with Vincent on his tail.

And it was awesome.

After a while the two got out of breath, but Vincent caught up to him and not very hard and with little effort, pushed him to the ground.

They both just laughed for a moment, Bright still on the floor.

"OK OK you've had your fun, now come on, up"

He extended his hand towards him but he got up without it, not in any rude way Vincent just figured he didn't need help.

"So we ran past a couple of the shops I had in mind, wanna WALK back to them?"

"Yeah sure"

They went into the first clothing shop they saw and started browsing.

After a while, Vincent noticed Bright trying on a couple of accessories, chains, hats, shades ect.

"You thinkn of actually buying some of those?"

"Oh god no, some of these prices could pay for the second half of my surgery, I could never afford this!"

A smirk crawled on Vincent's face, he had been waiting for this moment.

"Oh, you think YOU'RE paying for these?"

Bright's head turned towards him so fast the shades he was wearing fell off his head and onto his face, covering his eyes.

He slowly lifted them back up then asked

"Come again?"

Vincent then reached into his wallet and pulled out what could only be described as a 'fan of credit and debit cards'.

Bright was flabbergasted.

"Dare I even ask? You aren't a stripper are you?"

Vincent gave a one note laugh.

"Ha! No no no this is just a solaire thing. What you didn't think Prince was synonymous with rich?"

Bright pulled himself together and stepped closer to him and sheepishly took one of the cards and went up to the desk to pay for the accessories he had on.

Vincent watched on and smiled to himself.

After no short of ransacking as many places as they wanted, the two left the mall but left the car where it was.

"Umm, what about your car?"

"Hm? Oh! Were just going around the corner"

It was pich black outside, when they turned a corner the only sorce of light....was the 711 stood before them.

It looked almost holy and it might as well have been with the way Vincent was gazing at it.

After a moment of watching Vincent bask in its glory, Bright felt a sharp pull on his sleeve and was pulled into the store.

Bright didn't exactly appreciate being pulled around so when they passed the threshold, he snatched his hand back.

"OK JD keep your pants on, it's just 711"

"I'm going to pretend you didn't just say that because I've enjoyed our night so far. Now follow me"

"OK but I can walk on my own"

Bright followed him through the aisle, 'freeze your brain' now firmly stuck in his head.

Coincidentally enough, when Vincent stopped, Bright was met with the infamous slushy machine.

"You literally dragged me here...for slushys?"

"No I did not 'JuSt DrAg YoU oUt HeRe FoR sLuShYs' I brought you here to enjoy some ice cold liquid gold, after a long and and eventful night! Now pick your flavour, come meet me at the counter and go outside so we can sit on the sidewalk and chill!"

"OK OK, gezz"

Bright picked up a cup and pressed the blue raspberry and cola flavours.

Vincent went round the corner to get more snacks so Bright did what he was told and went up to the counter.

Vincent came back with his 'supplies' and slushy in hand.

He paid and they both went outside.

Vincent took a big gulp (hehe) of his slushy and listened to the silence for a while.

Until Bright eyes spoke up

"Do you think I should do it?"

"Do what...?"

"Agree to be William's progeny?"

Vincent hesitated.

He did have a lot of fun today, Bright wasn't a bad kid and he could tell that William liked him a lot.

But this wasn't about him.

"Well...I know you and Sam don't get along, I also know that kind of person William is and yeah being a solaire dose come with its perks

But I don't think I should sway you one way or the other.

Listen, I know this must sound bullshit but when I was first turned by him, I was so much like you that it kinda scares me"

"Oh f*k off"

"No, I'm serious. I had the same realationship with William as you have with Sam. So if I were you, knowing what I know now, I'd stay with Sam....but I'm not you and I don't think that thats really what you want"

Bright sighed and took a swig of his slushy.

"Yeah well...I think I'm still gonna marinate on it, ask around a bit maybe get to know you guys better"

"That sounds good"

That's way more than I did, thought Vincent.

"It's so funny to me, you'd think me and Sam would get along better considering how much we have in common"

At first Vincent thought he was being sarcastic but then he thought about it, then he asked

"Wait.....what are you talking about?"

"Oh yeah I forgot everyone leaves this part out....

You know what happend in wonderworld right? Sam told you?"

"Y-yeah"

"Well...you know that he was turned by Sam and that Fred turned me but what no one seems to know or care about.....is that I didn't want him to. I wanted him to stop. I didnt know exactly what he was doing but I couldn't. Make him. Stop.

Who knew being turned without consent was a big 'no no' am I right? I only found that out after it happened. Anyway its getting late or I suppose early, I can finish this I the car, you coming to or what?"

Bright stood up and walked towards the car but Vincent just sat there trying to take in everything that was just said.

Why did no one tell him that? Why dose no one know about that?! And how long was it before he found out that that wasn't OK?....

All these questions flooded Vincent's mind but he snapped out of it when he saw Bright waiting alone by the car.

What could he possibly say after that....?

The car journey back was deadly silent. Vincent realised why he was so scared to talk to Bright in the first place. He was worried that Sam was wrong about him, scared that all the things that Sam seemed to hate about him were just the same things HE did back then, scared that William would-

"Oh man I love this song!"

His spiraling, intrusive thoughts were interrupted by the sound of "dear Maria count me in" and by Bright's excitement when it started playing.

Vincent began to smile, he let himself ignore what Bright said before and let the sound of his voice overshadow the sound of his mind.

Eventually the two were belting it out together, Vincent lowered his roof and Bright stood up in his car, hands up, still singing as loud as he could.

That crazy kid.

Taggs - @darlin-collins

(Also let me know if you want to be tagged in the next chapter)

[allmightluver]

**bnha spoilers** I'm just sat here with renewed realisation of what All Might is going through. 40 years. /40 years/ he held and refined that power and dedicated his every waking (and sleeping if Vigilantes is anything to go by) moment towards the goal of defeating AfO and creating a society in which people could feel happy and safe. And now as it turns out AfO is still alive, society is broken and he has given a literal piece of his soul to this young boy leaving himself with only phantoms

Yes. I don’t think people quite grasp what all he’s going through.

It’s been shown recently to us that some, if not most, heroes have underlying ambitions in becoming a hero. Whether for money, glory, fame, popularity, doesn’t matter. They’re ultimately in it for themselves. Toshinori’s intentions from the beginning have been the most pure- he wanted to be a symbol that people can look to and know things will be ok. A symbol of hope. This boy was only around 14 years old when he decided this. What kind of 14 year old sees the world that clearly? Sees that people have no hope, that a veil of darkness covers them. The only thing I can think of is- Toshinori did not have a good childhood. Something had to have happened to a boy that young to stop seeing the joy in life so early, and see the world’s flaws. Truthfully, I believe he was an outcast- due to his quirklessness. Most likely an orphan, perhaps abandoned by his parents, as we’ve never seen him have any family. I do truly believe Toshinori has been alone all his life. I don’t doubt more could have happened to him as a child before he met Nana. 

Some may argue that Izuku is the same age, and therefore it shouldn’t be that hard to see why Toshinori wanted to be a hero at such a young age. BUT, Izuku had someone to look up to, ever since he was a child of four years old, to inspire him to be a hero his whole life *cough cough* All Might. Izuku also was quirkless, much like Toshinori, and an outcast because of it (hence where I assume Toshinori was much the same). But ultimately, Izuku wanted to save people because he saw his hero do it. It really wasn’t until Izuku was a bit older, has been in UA, has been on rescue missions, has seen what the heroes see, that I think he’s truly realized how dark the world really is. Toshinori didn’t have that. He didn’t have someone to inspire him as a child, someone to look up to, a hero to inspire him to help others. At that time, heroes hadn’t become as popular as they are in present times. Toshinori saw the world for what it was, on his own, at a tender age. I think that day Nana ran into this blonde hair kid, she eyed him up, noticed his scraggly form, looked into those captivating blue eyes, and saw a man who’s lived through the world’s horrors- experienced the worst it has to offer-, and wants to save everyone he can from the same fate, all in a 14 year old boy. 

Then after only a few short years with the woman he saw as his mother, she’s killed in front of him because of his own weakness- he wasn’t strong enough yet to protect her. The only other person his life, Gran Torino, literally abused him. He beat him to a pulp, taking his own emotions out on a teenager, and I doubt Toshinori said anything of it. He probably thought he deserved it. He’s still afraid of Gran Torino to this day, remembering the beatings and expecting more for his failures- even if he doesn’t know what they are surely he’s at fault for something, but he’s the only person who’s stood by his side for this long. Even while at a distance, and spouting nothing but criticisms along the way. But Toshinori had to put aside his own emotions to be that hope for everyone. He left everything he knew to go to a new country on his own, to learn how to be a hero, to be that hope for someone.

Vigilantes showed us just how hard he worked. Toshinori literally stayed awake with no sleep for days on end- 3 in the chapter I’m referencing- because people needed help, people needed saving, and no one else stepped up. He fought villains, rescued civilians, repaired damage, cleared rubble, (even accept and eat food that was against his dietary restrictions after his injury) whatever the public needed, all while draining himself further. He worked himself to the point of exhaustion because he had no help, once literally falling asleep while mid-leap across the city because he simply could go no further. 

^^These happen in succession of each other^^

No one stepped up to say “Hey, Mr. Number 1, you’ve been working hard lately. Let me help you!” No one tried to take over his position. Even the Number 2 hero, Endeavor, never tried to take some of his burden. His only goal was to try to be better than All Might in terms of power- he was never trying to be the hero that the people relied on All Might for. Everyone relied on him when things looked grim. He was the back up plan. And all of this happened before Toshinori’s injury. 

The only thing he ever wanted to do- help people- he can’t do (at least the way he’s always known how to). The ability to save people has been taken from him in the most gruesome way. He was finally able to fight the man that killed Nana, and in a rage that I’m sure echoed with all of the emotions of the previous users, he smashed that man’s head like a grape. But not without consequence. Several organs are gone. The pain is excruciating. He wears that man’s mark on his body for the rest of his life, never truly able to rid himself of the filth.

Then we have Nighteye’s betrayal. The man that helped him as a sidekick, the man that grew to be his only friend. Now some people may ask why Toshinori flipped like he did to Nighteye looking into his future when he was concerned about him making it through his injury. What I believe is Toshinori didn’t want to know when he would die (and really, who does). Now he knows he’s on a time limit, knows the clock is ticking. Time is running out to keep the world at peace, and with him as he is now, how long can this go on? 

I think the betrayal, doing something that Toshinori specifically asked him not to do, is what hurt the most. How can he trust Nighteye anymore? He already can only count on one hand the people he can trust, let alone befriend.

He’s wasted away into a skeleton, a shell of the man he used to be. He can’t over exert himself without his only lung bleeding in protest. It’s canon in the side books that he really doesn’t eat much, which isn’t good for his diet without a stomach now (he’s supposed to have several small meals a day). He is quite literally punishing himself by starving. (Granted, he doesn’t feel hunger anymore.) He’s a sick man, beyond medical help at this point. They can only stabilize him and hope for the best. For five years now he’s in constant pain, every day. He loses blood like sweat. Surely his veins are bruised and collapsed with how many times he would have needed to be hospitalized. Whether from losing too much blood, being too dehydrated or starved from “forgetting” to eat, or an organ failing as body continues to fall apart. “...even as my body rots and grows frail...” - Toshinori People are bound to stare at him as he walks down the street. A tall, willowy, skeleton with a grimace on his face and blood stains on his clothes as he coughs up more into his own hands. There would be the ones who outright ignore him when they walk by, the people who offer pitying smiles and sympathetic glances or just outright stare, and then ones who are afraid of his appearance- children screaming at the mere sight of him and running to their parents to hide from the monster. Each one is another knife in Toshinori’s side, an ache in his chest. If only they knew who I really am.

Losing Nighteye took a toll on his hero work as well. Mirai was a huge help in the past, and took care of all Toshinori’s paperwork, while also reminding him to take care of himself. Without him, Toshinori was even more buried beneath his responsibilities. Plus, now he was on a time limit. He even snapped briefly in his first meeting with Tsukauchi, accidentally revealing himself as All Might because he was under too much pressure, and telling the detective he literally couldn’t handle doing everything by himself (who graciously took over the paperwork side of things for him). 

He was living a double life now, having to lie to people left and right about who he was while in his small form, about how he became so sickly, why he was here in the first place who the heck is this skinny old guy. Surely he had multiple visits to the doctor while continuing to repair the damage done by AFO (there’s a limit to how much the body can handle at once. And things I’m sure continued to fail as time went on). Then he would be bedridden for as long as the doctors could keep him strapped to a bed, until he couldn’t take the people’s cries for help any longer, and would jump into action. (It’s also revealed he has something of a super hearing- able to hear danger- which may have been a form of danger sense of OFA that was never fully unlocked?. Either way, he surly could sense disasters happening while he could only lay and heal from his latest surgery. Those poor doctors must have had to re-stitch him several times). People blame him for not preparing society for his retirement, that he failed in passing on the torch so to speak, but in reality he did everything possible to keep society from falling for 40 years, doing all within his power just to keep things afloat. He is only one person. One human being, he can’t do everything despite trying to. Society failed All Might.

People blame him for not being a good teacher. He didn’t exactly have the greatest teacher himself to learn from. He’s never had to teach anyone anything, he just punches! He’s learning. And for his own credit, he’s an incredibly wise man, he has years of experience under his belt, and an intelligence score of 6/6, scoring up there with Nezu! He may not always have the right way to bring something up, but he’s doing his best. Yet even he blames himself for Izuku not being able to control his quirk better. Every time the boy hurts himself, it’s just another tally on the chalkboard of Toshinori’s failures. He himself knows the boy deserves better, better than him. Useless. Pathetic.

Then his friend from America, Dave, essentially became a villain trying to preserve Toshinori’s legacy after Toshinori told him about his injury. Dave went behind his back, threatened people, injured people (pretty sure people died), all for Toshinori’s sake. Something he didn’t want to begin with. Having to put your only other friend in jail for trying to help you surely couldn’t have been easy.

Oh, by the way? All For One isn’t dead. All Might will fight him again, publicly, have his weakened form exposed to the world, and have his own emotions toyed with as he finds out about his master’s grandson in the villain’s hands. Would Nana hate him for leaving her son alone like she’d asked, and dooming her grandchild to be raised by the greatest villain? Could he have done anything to save him? But Toshinori isn’t allowed to feel, he has to smile and push his own feelings aside once again, because there’s a villain to be fought, and only he can fight him. Despite coming out on top, he’ll have suffered severe head trauma, broken left arm, destroyed right arm, and several cuts and bruises that are sure to scar. And then, his quirk, the only thing that’s been allowing him to help people, the gift given to him that he carefully held for 40 years and molded into his own until his very consciousness was permanently carved into it, blows out like a match in the wind. And he’s done. Used up. Empty. Broken. Hollow. Alone, again.

He overhears his student, Bakugo, admit that he blames himself for All Might’s retirement. If he hadn’t been captured, All Might wouldn’t have had to save him, and he wouldn’t have had to fight AFO. Of course Toshinori knows that’s not true, his time was about to run out anyway. It would have happened one way or another. But how can he explain to this child that he wasn’t the cause of his hero, the world’s greatest hero, fighting for his sake, bleeding for his sake, being forced into retirement to keep him safe. Every time Bakugo sees the bandages covering Toshinori’s body is another reminder of the pain and sacrifice Toshinori willingly gave to keep him safe. Toshinori wasn’t held when his mentor died. He wasn’t told it was ok to be sad, that grief and mourning was a natural process, that it takes time to heal. He wasn’t told it was ok to cry. Instead his feelings were beaten out of him as he wondered if Gran Torino blamed him for Nana’s death. He already blamed himself How then, does he comfort a child mourning for him? For what he lost.

And then he gets the call to come to the hospital. Mirai, Nighteye, his old sidekick friend, has been gravely injured, much like he himself was only a few years ago, and most likely won’t survive the night. And to his horror, Nighteye is happy to see him, smiles at him, says he doesn’t hate him for what happened, only wants Toshinori to be happy. He can’t accept that, at least let him apologize, reconcile his sins before it’s too late! But it is. Another fractured piece of his heart gone.

Of course, seeing your students beat up and their arms completely destroyed must have hurt. Instead of being able to save these kids, they’re the ones that hurt themselves to save everyone else. And if Bakugo had kept OFA, things could have been very different (especially with what we know now of OFA and people with quirks). Toshinori wasn’t mad at Izuku for transferring it away, he’d never regret choosing Izuku, and I believe he still would have stayed by Izuku and Bakugo’s side should it have stayed in Bakugo, doing whatever he could to help.

As he tells Aizawa, “I’ve decided to live,” -that statement seems so melancholy, besides obvious reasons. It sounds more like another task he has to accomplish. He didn’t die he was supposed to die with the AFO fight, and now the whole life he lived is over. The world has no use for him anymore. If not for Izuku, he’d have nothing left keeping him here. But because his boy made him promise to live, he’ll do so. Though it almost seems like he says those words with regret. “I’ve decided to live.” Not, “I’m going to live!” “Nothing can kill me!” “I won’t go down without a fight!” No. “I’ll live if I have to, only because you asked me to.” The man is obviously and outwardly depressed. He has so many things against him. No doubt has severe PTSD, anxiety, among others. Not to mention his own physical health. Every day hurts. It’s painful to be alive. Why would he torture himself if he doesn’t have to? For you, my boy. You’re the only thing keeping me here. The only light in my dark world.

He tries to help Izuku find out the previous holder’s quirks, to help his boy in any way he can now that he’s worthless, and goes days on end without sleep, running his body into the ground. He even forgets Christmas. Only to find that by giving the boy the same gift he had received, he may have just doomed him to an early death, among psychological torture (danger detection). (Granted, he really doesn’t know how everything works, and he’s afraid to talk to anyone about it). His boy could live only half a life.

It’s only been a few months since he retired, and society has fallen into shambles. People are blaming him. People are dying. He watches helplessly as his colleague fight his fight for him, and end up battered, bruised, crippled, dead. He students, his boy, battle the monster he should have killed. Children are bleeding. This shouldn’t happen. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Is everything he worked for, everything he fought to protect, to build up, to inspire, is all for naught?! Did he live a foolish dream and doom the world? Was all the the friends he lost, tears he shed, the organs he destroyed, the pain he endures on a daily basis from the hole in his side, and the blood he continues to bleed every day, for nothing? The public, the ones he protected for so long, mourn his absence, but surely there are those among them who also blame him. The statue from his last fight in Kamino one that he never asked for was decimated in a mock of his catch phrase- the one that was supposed to give hope.

Now he can feel his own vestige speaking with Izuku in the OFA realm, even with out OFA in his own body anymore. His clock as nearly reached it’s limit, Nighteye’s prediction is due any day now. The only thing he wants is to see his boy smile at him, to give him some shred of hope. Yet the child remains unconscious, and Toshinori can’t even hold his hand from the bandages covering his arms. Will he still be able to fight? Is there any coming back from this now? Did I break him?

With all Toshinori has been through, I’m honestly surprised we haven’t seen him just outright break down. Anyone, anyone, else should have crumbled under the pressure of holding up the world for 40 years alone. And instead of being able to pass it on to someone when he can no longer bear its weight, it simply falls to into the abyss. People don’t credit All Might enough for everything he’s done. Most don’t realize the sacrifices he’s made. His character is so unbelievably profound and deep, it’s more than just the “I am here!” people focus on. He’s a deeply troubled, layered, complex character. And I can’t find fault within him.

[ask-voreganronpa-boys]

Can you do one where Nagito is hiding his s/o in his mouth from someone and he accidentally swallows them? (Preferably after the game)

Love your work!!! :D

hehehehehe >:), time for Mod Moon to work her magic....

"Hey Y/N? I could've sworn this bottle was almost full, did you drink some?" You heard Nagito ask, a slight worried tone laced his words. His voice seemed louder than normal, but you shrugged it off and assumed it was because you were just groggy, you had only woken up a few moments ago after all. Nagito had allowed you to spend the night at his place last night since you usually had trouble sleeping alone. And as usual he insisted that you take his bed and he'd sleep on the couch, even though there was plenty of room for the both of you in the bed. You rubbed the sleep from your eyes and mumbled back to him, lazily trying to find the top of the bedsheets to poke your head out of.

"Whaaat bottllle?" You asked, but instead of a reply you were met with silence. You heard footsteps approach the door before Nagito called out again,

"Y/N? Are you in here?" He called, turning the doorknob and stepping inside the bedroom. You grumbled in frustration, at both your inability to find the edge of the bedsheet and that your sleepy mumbling wasn't heard.

"Yeeeeeeessss I'm heree, whaat do you waaant?" You groaned loudly, obviously frustrated. A jumble of curses were mumbled at the blanket, with about 100 more popping into your head each second.

"Y/N...?" You heard Nagito say, clear confusion and worry present in his voice.

"uuuuhhhgg, whaaat do you waaan-" You were cut off by the feeling of sharp cold air attacking your bare skin and a blinding light as the covers were suddenly yanked off of you. Once your eyes adjusted to the light you could make out Nagito's face looming high above you...

Wait...

That wasn't right...

Something wasn't right...

A glance around you confirmed your suspicions. Something was definitely wrong. Everything was huge, or rather, you were really small. Your gaze snapped back up to Nagito as an odd, choked sound came from his throat. You saw his already fair complexion grow sickeningly pale.

"Ah-aha ha. Well I guess that answers my question..." He choked out, a nervous laugh escaping his lips along with his words. You were too stunned to speak. Frozen in fear, you could only watch with a crude mix of horror and despair as gigantic hands slowly lowered down to you. Nagito shakily cupped his hands around your tiny form, trying his best to stay calm. He took a few deep breaths before finally speaking again.

"That bottle was supposed to have a concotion that would have a similar effect to an energy drink, but take much less of a toll on my body. Hajime mixed it up for me. But this morning-" his breath hitched in his throat and he took another deep breath. "this morning I got a very frantic text from Hajime. He... he first asked me if I drank any of it, because he had supposedly given me the wrong bottle, and the one i recieved was quite dangerous to consume. I can see why now." You could see Nagito was trying desparately to hold back his anxieties. He was clearly stressed. You on the other hand had calmed down significantly, you weren't afraid of Nagito hurting you, in fact you knew he would do everything in his power to make sure you didn't get hurt. But you could tell he didn't think the same. You placed a gentle hand to one of his fingers

“Hey, don’t worry Nags, it’ll be fine I promise. Once this stuff wears off I’ll be back to normal.” You said, hoping that would reassure him. But of course Nagito’s anxiety had found a way around that one.

“But what if I hurt you? Your so small! You could fall, or someone could step on you or—“ you cut him off before he could continue,

“I’ll be fine, I have you! Plus it’s not like this can last forever.”

“Ok, but for now can we keep this a secret from Hajime? I don’t want him to worry, he has enough to do as it is. His talents are needed elsewhere.” Nagito suggested. You were glad to hear that he hadn’t made a single self-deprecating comment in that sentence, it looked like he was getting better about that. He eyed you, waiting for a reply, so you supplied one with a giggle,

“Yea sure, but it’d be easier to keep it a secret from everyone while we’re at it. I don’t like the thought of other people seeing me this venerable. I trust you, but I’m not sure about others…” you trailed off and you saw a brief sparkle in Nagito’s eyes at the idea of you trusting him with something like this.

“Of cour—“ for the second time today Nagito was cut off, this time by a knock on the door. No doubt that was Hajime. A distant voice was heard, confirming that it was indeed Hajime.

“Hey Nagito? Uh, you ok? Your door’s unlocked, so I’m coming in.” And with that the sound of the door opening shot Nagito into panic mode. You watched as he glanced around looking for somewhere to hide you. His eyes glazed over for a moment, before he looked down at you with a concerned gaze. He whispered a ‘sorry’ before you were flying upwards, his hands carrying you right up to his mouth.

You landed on his tongue, and his teeth snapped shut behind you. You were still reeling when Nagito turned his head to face Hajime who had just walked in.

“Oh, thank god you’re actually ok.” You heard the brunette say. Nagito kept silent for obvious reasons, but you felt him nodding hesitantly.

“Okaaaayy…. Uh where’s the stuff I gave you? I uh, I have the actual energy drink right here.” Hajime said, clearly confused by Nagito’s unusual silence. A few more bras of silence proceeded that one (most likely Nagito trying to point Hajime in the direction of the fridge), before Hajime spoke once more.

“Oh… in the kitchen?”

Nagito nodded again. You heard footsteps start walking away before Hajime turned on his heels and faced Nagito again. It was then that Nagito jolted a bit, and you began to slide slowly towards the back of his throat. You looked around in a panic for something, anything to grab on to as Hajime spoke his next words.

“I tried to ignore it but honestly it’s just unsettling. Your super quiet today. Are you SURE everything is ok? You definitely look a bit more pale… wait are you gonna throw up?!” You could tell from the brunette’s words that Nagito was panicking also, but his desperate tries to pull you back up into his mouth only caused you to slip farther down until eventually…

*gulp*

Nagito was breathing heavily, his eyes wide, and Hajime standing in the bedroom doorway, with a very scared, and concerned look on his face.

“Hah… hah… yea, I’m fine!” Nagito smiled, still panting. His small smile hid his true thoughts.

Holy shit, he just swallowed a person. He fucked up so bad.

“Ok, if you insist…” Hajime said hesitantly, before walking out and over to the kitchen. As soon as he was out of eyesight Nagito slapped a hand to his stomach. He breathed a sigh of relief when he felt you jolt inside. You were ok… maybe… hopefully this wouldn’t scar you for life or anything.

You heard Hajime say a brief goodbye before the door shut behind him, and immediately Nagito began panicking.

“Y/n I am so sorry, are you ok? Please forgive me, my worthlessness and stupidity truly are despairing…” he trailed off. You on the other hand became increasingly more concerned.

“Nagito, stop with the self-deprecating stuff I’m fine, I promise.” You told him, finding a comfortable spot to lay down in. It was warm, and there was a faint glow of green from the inside of his stomach. Upon closer inspection you could see that the walls around you were extremely malnourished, and you felt sorry for him.

“Are you sure? Do you want me to spit you out? You probably want me to spit you out that was a stupid question, who would want to be in a stomach, especially a disgusting one such as mine.” Nagito rambled, the self depreciation coming back in full force now, it was a bit concerning, but you could work on that later. You needed to calm him down and reassure him everything was ok first and foremost. You placed your hand against one of the walls of his stomach.

“I’m fine I promise. It’s actually really nice in here, can I stay here for a little while? Maybe I could get some more sleep in, if it’s on with you.” You admitted, making sure to ask for permission, it was Nagito’s stomach after all, he was in control over his body and what made him uncomfortable.

“Really? I never would have thought that anyone would want to stay in my disgu— in my stomach. I’m ok with it if it makes you happy.” You felt one of the walls cave in some as Nagito pressed a hand to his stomach from the outside. You smiled, happy to finally fall back asleep in the safety of Nagito’s tummy. You’d have to ask Hajime for more of that concoction later…

Hope you liked it anon!!! :D, i had some fun with this one!! Sorry it took so long tho!! I’ve been SUPER BUSY and I’m literally finishing this drabble up in bad before I go to sleep lol. I actually started it a while ago so I had a good chunk done already and it was really only. A matter of finishing it up!! :),

Have an amazing day/night/whatever, and happy reading!!!

[ravenadottir]

hello!! adhd anon back 👉👈

do you think any of the LIs would be into a non-binary mc? how do you think that would go?

the li's and a non-binary mc:

important: i want to make an observation, because otherwise the way i explained things might not come across the right way. some people are alive in this world and have no idea that non binary identity is a thing. so if you're really used to it, sometimes you might forget that others have no idea about most things you know, so keep that in mind.

*cuts to me explaining it to my grandmother and seeing her face getting the most confused i've ever witnessed*

so i need to take some of the islanders under consideration about the possibility of not knowing anything about it as well. i'm generalizing some of them because well... it's all i can do. we don't have the canon information so i have to assume based off the things and the way they say certain things. alright, back to the post.

i can see this going a few ways, because not all of them are even familiar with gender and what it means, like gary, hannah, marisol, rahim, and bobby. they come from a traditional place and might not even know that non-binary is part of gender and identity.

priya comes from an indian background (remember the nod to the 'uncle' culture she talks about with arjun?) and the vedas touch on the existence of non binary individuals (according to my research but i could be very wrong). she might understand it but not have vivence with enby people on daily life, so it might be new to her. but that's assuming priya is hindu and that we don't know for sure. either way i think she would take a while to understand and actually comprehend what being non binary means, because it's not a part of her daily basis.

marisol to me is a wild card. on one hand, hispanic family (maybe? since they called her a spanish girl, so she's at least hispanic and we can't confirm if she was born in spain or not), i can say for sure it feels like the concept is almost lost to older families. my father is spanish (born and raised in barcelona) and he had a hard time comprehending when i told him i'm genderfluid. he wasn't closed up to it but it was HARD to take the male/female formula out of his brain. marisol might've never come in contact with enby people before because of how she moves every day, and where she goes. everything about her seems very traditional, her fashion sense, her hair, her choice of occupation, even the way she speaks... on the other hand she seems very interested in psychology and might know stuff about gender. I DON'T KNOW, OK? like i said, she's a wild card.

the others might still think gender and sex are the same thing. once they learn what it means they might struggle with remembering mc's pronouns are not she/her, but that's because of their upbringing.

it's not that they don't accept, it's just the idea of binary identity being so intrinsec it takes a while to truly get there, but i think they wouldn't object dating someone who's enby.

henrik, noah, lucas, carl and kassam understand gender. they know it's completely separated from sex.

henrik might be non binary too (an anon brought it up and i think it's almost canon for all of us, henrik stans). and you know, as he said, he was looking for a connection. not a girl or a woman, a connection.

kassam is in music and he travels all the time while on tour. he comes in contact with a lot of people and he must've met several artists who are non binary. it's not unknown to him.

carl i think understands gender because of sci-fi. it's kind of an ethereal concept when i say it like this, but that's how i understood what non binary means when i was much younger, and it was easy to know when people told me they were enby. since carl grew up on the same culture i believe that's how he learned and it's not unknown to him.

lucas was left alone in school, and given the way he talks i can only assume he's educated on several subjects, including this one. we have no clues in the game but he seems to not only be intelligent academically speaking but also humanitarianly. working in his area, with athletes, must be a good doorway to learn more.

noah. he reads a lot, and absorbs what he reads. no doubt in my mind that he's very familiar and doesn't care if someone is non binary. there's not much to say here, he just gets it.

lottie. she works in the beauty industry, so there's no way she doesn't know, understand or accept it. i reckon she might be in more contact with enby's than any other person in this list. and she doesn't give a flying fuck about gender i don't think.

[marsbutterfly]

Skyfall

Summary: When you are hired to kill the most dangerous mafia boss, things get a little complicated.

Wattpad Version! | AO3 Version!

|◁ II ▷|

“This is the end

Hold your breath and count to ten

Feel the Earth move and then

Hear my heart burst again”

7:34pm

The clock on your wrist tics quietly but in the silent room, it nearly sounds like bombs being dropped from above. Not a word is exchanged between you and the man sitting across the room but you know exactly what he wants.

In his hand rests a dark colored suitcase, you can barely tell until the light hits his belt ever so gently but you finally see the gun he’s been carrying.

You take a deep breath, getting up for your seat. The sound of your heels clicking on the floor fills the atmosphere as you walk towards him, the smirk on his lips is undeniable and you don’t understand what he has to be smiling about.

He stands up a second after you and walks in your direction, bumping against you and dropping his suitcase and the papers in his hand. In response, you throw on the floor the suitcase you once held. 

The man apologizes profoundly as you help him collect the papers on the floor. You say over and over that it is ok, while all the curious eyes in the room land on you. As you stand up, you hand him the suitcase you once had in your hand and he nods, thanking you for the help and apologizing one last time.

You begin to make your way back to your car, the smirk on his lips still engraved in your brain as a chill travels down your spine. “Why was he smiling?” You ask yourself not wanting to admit it but you are a bit scared of knowing the answer.

Though once you open the suitcase, you understand why. Inside, rests the pictures and information of your next target, the millionaire leader of an enemy gang. Though you don’t enjoy taking sides, you’ve been paid a large amount of money to take her out, more than you have ever made.

The war between these two gangs has been going on for the longest time and you have killed enough people on both sides to earn a fair amount of enemies, but this time you couldn’t help but feel a sinking hole opening in your heart.

Hanji Zoe has always been the deadliest member of the underground group. Her kill count is even higher than yours, at least 500+ heads under her belt. They say her torture methods surpass even the ones they use in hell.

She’s known as the Devil herself.

“For this is the end

I've drowned and dreamt this moment

So overdue, I owe them

Swept away, I'm stolen”

8:15pm

Your keys unlock the heavy doors of your house and somehow the marble floors feel colder than ever. Your shoes rest in their designated spot by the coat holder and you throw the suitcase on the couch.

Two cups rest on the counter near the bar area inside your home. One of them contains what you assume is whisky, due to the color and the amount of ice in the cup, it has always been her favorite after a work day.

The lipstick marks are fresh meaning she has just now gotten home. Upon paying closer attention, you realize the shower is on and steam is coming out of the bathroom. You think about joining her but ultimately decide to have a drink first, trying to forget about your next target.

Gently, you take two rocks of ice and place them in the clean cup specifically placed out for you. Pouring yourself a single shot of whisky, you walk towards the balcony feeling as the cold air of the night hits your face.

You knew this day would come but you hoped it would take longer. 

Deep in your own thoughts, you don’t realize the water has been turned off in the bathroom and wet footsteps approach your body.

It’s not until her wet arms wrap around your black dress that you realize you are no longer alone. Her face is buried in your back and you can see steam leaving her arms as the hair on her skin stands up.

The tattoo of your initials on her hand still brings butterflies to your stomach. The memory of the night she got it is still one of your favorite moments you spent together, especially since it was after your first date and she told you she knew you were the one.

“I missed you.” She says, placing a kiss on your skin. You can feel as her breasts are pressed against you and a gasp leaves your body.

“I missed you too.” You reply, a disobedient tear rolling down your face as you chug the contents of the cup in your hand.

“What’s wrong?” She asks, placing her hand on your waist as she turns your body around so you can face her. She is a few inches taller, nothing too extreme but enough to make you look up at her gently.

Her thumb brushes the tear on your cheek before rubbing it above your lips. You take a deep breath, gathering the courage to tell her the news you just received.

“You are my next target.” You say and Hanji nods, a sad smirk on her lips.

“Let the sky fall

When it crumbles

We will stand tall

Face it all together” 

9:00pm

The brush goes through her hair with ease for the first time, as if she took care of the tangles in the shower already knowing what the news you were bringing would be. After shower moments were the ones where Hanji was the most vulnerable.

She would simply close her eyes and appreciate the attention she’s been given as she fades in the echo of your voice. You hum a melody quietly, Hanji’s favorite song in the hopes to bring her any comfort at all.

Your tears drip down your nose onto her scalp as you put her hair in a ponytail, attempting to help her get ready for the party she will be attending in an hour. At the highest floor of the second tallest building in the entire city.

“How are you going to do it?” She asks, lighting a cigarette and blowing the smoke up in the air while trying to make rings out of it. You giggle, touching her shoulders before sliding your hands down her arms.

You notice the goosebumps rising on her skin and can’t help but smile at how she reacts to your touch. “Must we talk about it?”

“I need to know.” She replies and you nod, sighing heavily while finally agreeing to talk about the elephant in the room.

“I’ll be on the roof of the Paradise building. I am pretty sure they will send someone to watch me do it.” You begin, spraying the bottle of perfume around her and noticing as the drops of liquid fall on her tan skin, masking the smell of the cigarette.

“But they might not.” She says and you shrug your shoulders.

“They might not.” You say quietly.

“I wouldn’t expect any less from this city’s top 1 assassin.” She says, taking your hand in hers and planting a soft kiss on your palm, leaving behind the red mark of her deep colored lipstick.

She stands up, allowing the robe to fall to the floor and reveal her naked body. You can’t look away from the perfect shape of her breasts, the line that goes through her abdomen from a previous surgery and all of her battle scars.

“Make me yours one last time.” You say, pulling your shirt above her head as you expose yourself to her and she nods, a devious smile curling up on her lips.

You see a few old bullet wounds, some healed while others are still healing. Every single one of them tells a story about who she is and how she has lived her life but your favorite story has always been the one of how she lost her eye.

It was three years ago, the day you met. How could you ever forget?

“Let the sky fall

When it crumbles

We will stand tall

Face it all together

At Skyfall”

Since you were a teenager, you’ve been good at killing. First your shitty parents and every family member who sided with them, including your own brother and sister. Finally being able to control your life, you decided to make a living out of it.

This career put you through college where you earned a chemistry degree, learning how to mix your personal kinds of poison, some of which no one has ever even heard of which makes it hard for the police to find who was responsible for it.

At first, you would go for basic targets: rapists, animal abusers, anyone who dared hurt another soul but word got out of how excellent and quick you were at your job and your number of clients tripled and your name was in everyone’s mouth.

One day, you got a call from a blocked russian number. A smile creeped on your lips as you heard a familiar voice over the phone, Erwin Smith. The man who gave you a chance to grow in this life and made you who you are today, your mentor.

“Y/N, I’m dying.” He says, his voice is faint and you notice his life force is fading away. 

“I can tell.” You reply trying to lighten the mood and he laughs.

“Will you still work for the next boss?” He asks, coughing out a liquid which you could only assume was blood. 

“If that is your dying wish.” You respond and he hums in agreement over the phone, “Then yes.”

Later that week, two men showed up to your house to escort you to Erwin’s funeral. The rain poured over his coffin, hiding away the tears of those who loved him.

Surrounded by at least five men sat a woman in a black coat, her eyes looking in your direction as she took the cigarette to her lips. The tattoos on her leg on display for anyone to see, you could’ve sworn she was silently flirting with you.

And in a moment of weakness, a car drove by shooting up the place completely. Of course they were received with a buffet of bullets as well, but nearly a third of the people around the casket were now dead.

As a bullet makes its way towards you, the brunette with danger in her eyes rushes forward to protect you only to receive the bullet with a glass platter. Needless to say, an uncountable amount of shards found their way into her eyeball.

While she bled in your arms, you tried to make sure she remained awake.

“What’s your name?” You ask and she smiles, bringing your hand towards her lips and licking your thumb with a palpable sexual energy.

“Hanji. Hanji Zoe.” She replied, “The new boss.”

“Skyfall is where we start

A thousand miles and poles apart

Where worlds collide and days are dark

You may have my number, you can take my name

But you'll never have my heart”

10:05pm

Once you are finished redoing Hanji’s hair, she stares at the closet before finally picking out a blood colored suit. No shirt underneath, she places the blazer right above her nipples, only enough to cover them while allowing the rest of her breasts to be exposed.

You on the other hand plan to dress yourself in a completely black outfit hoping to blend into the darkness of the night. Luck was on your side for there were no stars to brighten the sky, allowing you to take complete cover.

As far as you know, nobody is aware of your relationship with Hanji, not even her subordinates. Keeping business away from your private life has always been a priority, even before you committed your first paid killing.

She places a final kiss on your hands and one of your lips, though it does not feel like a goodbye and you sadly accept any kind of comfort you can find.

When her car is out of view, you decide to go up and take a shower by yourself. You wanted to decline this job, to throw everything away: your reputation, the money and simply run away with Hanji to a place where you could live your lives.

But you can’t. Before even knowing who your targets are, you are always made to sign a consent form and if broken, it would cost you your life.

The warm water hits your face and you can still smell Hanji’s strawberry shampoo in the air mixed with the fading smoke of her cigarettes. You begin to remember every shower you spent together, every kiss you shared at the most exquisite places around the world.

Hanji always knew how to make you feel like the luckiest girl in the world. Eventually, you can no longer if the water streaming down your face comes from the shower or your tears.

As you finish your shower, you begin to get ready. The black outfit had never been colder and the unsettling feeling at the pit of your stomach still remains. While putting a mask above your face, you look at your rifle.

It has your initials and Hanji’s secretly carved on the side and on the other it has the date you started dating. A good luck charm, as she liked to call it.

Tonight will be a fucking awful night.

“Let the sky fall (let the sky fall)

When it crumbles (when it crumbles)

We will stand tall (we will stand tall)

Face it all together

At Skyfall”

1:53am

Hours have passed since you've been sitting at the top of this building by yourself, looking through the binoculars at the party happening not too far away.  In the end, they decided not to send anyone to watch over your shoulder as you do your job.

The richest and most powerful people in town were all attending and, even though they wore masks, you could still tell exactly who they were. The years of analyzing and recognizing targets from afar has given you the extraordinary ability to identify covered faces.

By the bar, you see her as she rests her arm on the glass top. She looks beautiful. Her whiskey brown eyes match the liquid in her cup as the black mask covers her features. For a second, you could’ve sworn she looked directly at you.

The instructions were clear: at 2am, a single bullet should be shot directly to her head, killing her instantly. So you position your gun, looking through the lense as Hanji disappears in the crowd for a bit before returning to her usual spot.

You sigh, stopping the tears that attempt to cloud your vision. Your finger slowly moves towards the trigger, as if time itself is desperately trying to stop you from killing your loved one, but it doesn’t matter. No one could stop you now.

Counting the seconds, you make sure the shot to her head is clear and you pray she won’t suffer at all. “Goodbye, my love.”

Time nearly stops once you pull the trigger. You watch closely as the bullet goes through her brain and blood splatters across the clear counter causing every person in the room to desperately run for their lives, not knowing they are all safe.

Only one man stands in the room and he raises his glass at you for he is the only one who knows no more shots will be fired. The asshole who hired you to kill the love of your life. Fucking Zeke Yeager.

With every ounce of your body, you decide that killing him isn’t worth it. He deserves to live to suffer in the future.

You bring your body back up, beginning to disassemble your rifle. It takes you less than a minute to be on your way and you can hear as police sirens approach the building in front of you.

“Where you go, I go

What you see, I see

I know I'd never be me

Without the security

Of your loving arms

Keeping me from harm

Put your hand in my hand

And we'll stand”

Finally getting back to your house, you throw the bag containing the gun on the couch before plopping your body right beside it, a long sigh escaping your lips.

Your eyes then notice the packed bags, all ready to leave as soon as possible. The clicking of heels comes from the other side of the house and you smirk, rushing your thumb through your lips.

“I feel bad for the lady you hired to die in your place.” You say, turning around and propping your chin on the back of the couch.

“Would you prefer if I had died in her place?” Hanji asks, rushing her hand through her freshly shaved head in an attempt to get rid of any hairs that still remain attached to her.

“Of course not, love.” You reply, walking towards her before taking the glass of wine from her free hand.

“Hanji Zoe is dead and the witness to it is Zeke Yeager himself.” She says, a devious smile on her lips.

You can’t help but link your mouth with hers, tasting the delightful mixture of alcohols she has had tonight. Her hands travel through your body, exploring every inch of your skin before gently brushing against your inner thigh.

You gasp gently, nearly melting in response to her actions. God knows you want to melt but you don’t have time.

“It’s 4:25am, the plane leaves in 35 minutes so we should go.” She says and you nod.

You grab one of the packed bags plus your rifle and she grabs the rest before extending her hand to you, hoping to walk away from this life with you by her side but not before staging your own kidnapping and death, everything so no one would ever look for either of you.

Once done with arrangements, she smiles. 

“So where are we going to make our new home?” You ask.

“My home is wherever you are.” She replies and you feel your cheeks getting warm before she continues, “But I was planning the Carribeans.” 

“Fuck yes.” Is all you say and she laughs, squeezing your hand as you both say goodbye to the apartment you’ve shared for years. Leaving behind a life of danger to live together in the house of your dreams, far away from all the negativity.

Just you and Hanji. And maybe a few cats and dogs along the way.

“Let the sky fall (let the sky fall)

When it crumbles (when it crumbles)

We will stand tall (we will stand tall)

Face it all together

At Skyfall”

[eddies-weirdo]

Not Your Loki (pt3)

Pairing: Loki x female reader

Summary: After what feels like a million years of jumping through timelines, you finally think you found the one with your Loki. Unfortunately the Loki you find isn't yours and has been heartbroken and defeated by another. Do you still help him?

Warning: cursing, mention of death, sadness, grief

Loki quizzically looks across the table at you after you pause the reel. "Why did you pause it?" "The only things left are some memories I'd rather not revisit at the moment" you explain. You look through your bag for your notebook and tempad to start figuring where you need to jump to next. "Ok so if I'm going to help I need you to tell me what happened. Did she kill him? The man who remained?"

"You didn't show me the rest" he says with a smirk "so I'm not going to work with you". Is he really doing this you think as you pinch the bridge of your nose, is he really doing this now. "I said no and that means no Loki Laufeyson".

"But that -"

"No."

"How am I-"

"No."

"How do you expect -"

"I SAID NO LOKI, END OF DISCUSSION."

You look up realizing you let your anger get the better of you, "I'm sorry Loki I didn't mean to raise my voice I -". His face is a mix of surprise and worry. "I didn't think you had that in you." "I - I'll be right back" you say as you walk outside the interrogation room. Walking across the hall you stand with you head against the wall. Why did I do that, why, I haven't seen him in decades I- he's not even my Loki why am I worried. Oh Norns what have I done, now I'll never be able to -

Loki watches you leave and waits for the door to close behind you before moving from his chair. He goes to your side of the table to look over the notes you've written down from over the past few weeks of jumping. "Interesting, she somehow knows everywhere I've been". He sees the doodles of the variants you've met, people you've helped, recipies you've been given, and the friends you've made along the way. "She's really been on her own adventure all this time? For me?". He looks over at the orange round computer, double checks that you haven't walked back in yet, then presses play.

The projection picks up during the confrontation with Thanos. Instead of just him and Thor however, you're there as well in beautifully made leather armor similar to his. Instead of green though you had chosen a dark gray leather. He watches as he sees himself freeze with a dagger pointed at Thanos. He then sees you running at Thanos with a sword you'd picked up from a guard. "NO" he hears you yell. Thanos laughs and looks back to Loki, "Yours I assume? She'll make a fine trophy". He sees the fire in your eyes as you put everything you have into attacking Thanos, but it wasn't enough. He sees Thanos freeze you as well. "Leave her out of this" he hears himself say "let her go!" He then hears the same crack from before, and sees his lifeless body fall to the ground. "No resurrection this time" he hears the mad giant say. He then sees you somehow break from the giant's spell with a great scream "NOW IT'S YOUR TURN" and attack with everything you have but the giant tosses you aside like you're nothing. He sees the giant leave, while you and Thor weep over his broken body. He sees you trying to carry him out, "No we must leave him y/n, we have to save ourselves" you hear Thor say. The look you'd given Thor was enough to silence him and help you. The scene then switches to a funeral. Thor is placing a simple marker on a hillside in new Asgard, the rest of the remaining Avengers surrounding him. Loki sees that your eyes are red and puffy with grief, and your skin hollowed by lack of sleep and sunlight. Nat is holding your hand tightly for support while you look on ahead, with no tears left to cry. Then the reel ends suddenly.

He catches tears falling on his own face, when he jumps at the noise of you speaking behind him after you silently reentered the room. "A part of me died along side you that day" you say "and I don't think I'll ever be able to get it back." Tears are falling from your eyes as well. Keeping eye contact with him, you continue. "I broke the sky and tore apart the stars to try and find you. I couldn't and still can't accept that this was your end ... our end". You wipe your face with your sleeve. "Do you believe me now when I say I want to help you? You big dummy." Suddenly Loki comes up to you and gives you a tight hug. Holding you he says, "I hope this is ok". You place your face on his chest and he lets you cry it out. "I'm beginning to see why I chose you as my wife" he chuckles. You take a step back so as to not over step his boundaries. "Well you did tell me you liked my cynicism for some reason" you say as you both pull it together. You unhook the reel and show him the end of the film you had clipped off. "This is my way of reminding myself that I'm making my own future now, I thought my Loki would have found it poetic or something" you say while putting the reel back into the canister. He chuckles sarcastically "Oh extremely my dear".

You both sit down as you pull out the maps you've made and the rest of your notes on how you've found jumping time to work. You roll up your sleeves "ok, ready to find your Sylvie?" He nods, "As long as you're ready to keep looking for your Loki".

Thanks for reading! Should I make this into a series?

[ithebookhoarder]

Can I get 83 off the angst list with Javier??? It's: Stay there I'm coming to get you

100 ways to say ily Prompt 83: “Stay there. I’m coming to get you” (Javier Peña x F!Reader)

A/N: Ooo, right in the angst. Let’s get to it! I also assume you meant this prompt list rather than the angst one as that’s only up to 20 ;) Don’t worry. I got you tho! I hope you like it x  Apologies for my terrible attempts at Spanish, so let me know if I got any of it wrong.

Warnings: Swearing, violence, blood, references to death (let me know if I missed anything)

Masterlist:

-------

“Javi?”

“Y/N?” 

The sound of his voice was soft as you held the phone to your ear. You could hear the soft echo of music playing in the background telling you he was definitely at home. 

Why wouldn’t he be, given the hour? It was the morning. 3 am to be precise. He should have been asleep. You should have been asleep, but no, you’d had to chase this lead alone. Like an idiot. A strong willed idiot who should have known better. 

But no. The idea of being able to catch one of Escobar’s top employees had been too tempting an opportunity to miss despite the fact the ambassador had said otherwise. In fact, he’d said fuck no, telling all of you to wait it out and get another source to confirm it. 

Apparently a friend of one of Javi’s ex informants wasn’t what they called reliable... even though she had direct access to the people supposed to be gathering tonight at the club you’d been staking out. 

Two hours you’d watched from your car, having snuck out to do so. If Javier and Steve had wanted to behave for once, then that was their call. They could stay and fill out paperwork to their hearts content. 

You didn’t need them for what was supposed to be a routine stake out and observation mission. 

Or so you’d thought. 

The fact you’d been made by one of the gang about thirty minutes after you’d entered the club had put a pretty big dampener on your plan. You hadn’t noticed as they’d arrived, recognising you after you’d almost caught them at a raid only days ago. 

The sicario had slipped away, managing to leap across one of the roofs as you’d chased them across. Had Steve not grabbed your arm and told you it was too dangerous a jump to risk, you’d have followed. 

But here he was, back and ready for payback... and he’d been quick to point you out to the others surrounding him. 

You knew it had been risky to be here and unfortunately, you were proved horrifically right. The fact you’d got away was a minor miracle, even if you were now bleeding. Badly. 

Damn bullet had missed but the graze was agonising, causing you to wince as you clutched at your side, trying to stem the bleeding as best you could. 

“Javi... I messed up.”

“Y/N, hermosa. What is it? What’s wrong? Where are you?”

His questions were relentless, firing one after the other as he detected the fear in your voice. The pain and regret too. 

“I’m ... I’m in an alley... by Fiebre... I’m sorry...”

“No, no. Don’t be sorry. It’s ok,” Javi soothed, panic underlying each word. You could hear him clattering about, most likely grabbing his keys and rushing out of the apartment next to yours. He didn’t need to ask to know what you were doing or why you were there. He knew you too well. He also knew you wouldn’t be calling like this if you weren’t in trouble. Trouble serious enough he had to get to you. Fast. “I’m on my way. Just stay there. I’m coming to get you.” 

A tear rolled down your cheek as the air suddenly felt a lot colder. Like Javi had just turned on the stupid faulty AC unit in your apartment, like he always did when it got late and he was staying over to look over material or keeping you company. 

God. What you’d have given to have him there to hold you right then. To wrap his familiar leather jacket around you like he always did when you forgot a jacket of your own, still forgetting that the hot days often fell into cooler nights. 

You longed for its touch, its scent, its comfort as you stared at the sky and prayed you lived long enough to regret this. 

“Fuck.” Your car was just down the street. You were so close but you didn’t know if you had the strength to make it there. “Javi... I’m bleeding... the bullet... it hit my side... it won’t stop.”

“Y/N, baby. Listen to me. We’re coming. Steve and I. It’s gonna be ok. Just keep talking to me, ok? Put pressure on it and don’t fall asleep. You hear me?”

“Javi-“

“I’m fucking serious, hermosa. You hear me? You better keep your damn eyes open long enough so I can look at them when we get there, and you make some stupid wise crack about all this.”

A car door slammed. Voices rang out over the line. You could hear an engine start. 

“Javi... I love you... I really do...”

“Y/N? Y/N?”

His voice sounded desperate, terrified even, as you faded away, failing to reply. You simply felt the edges of your vision beginning to dim and the inevitable pull of sleep tugging you toward an abyss you knew there would be no coming back from. 

You couldn’t fight it any longer.

A single tear trickled down your cheek and you felt the phone drop from your hand onto the cold concrete beneath you. 

“I’m sorry.”

——— 

“-y tienes suerte de que te quiera mucho. Odio los hospitales. este lugar es jodidamente horrible. No puedo dejarte aquí solo. no cuando te vas a despertar en cualquier momento. ¿Me escuchas? Tú vas a-“

The voices were coming in waves, washing over you and disappearing just as quickly. 

It was hard to try and hold on to, even if you wanted to. This voice in particular was soft and tempting, familiar even... Coaxing you in over and over every time you slipped back into the darkness that was so warm and soft. 

You’d always been a deep sleeper, slamming your alarm harder than necessary whenever it tried to wake you. 

Now was the same... even if you knew it shouldn’t be. Even if you felt odd, like you were supposed to be somewhere and you’d forgotten... 

But where?

“She should have woken by now-“

“Javi, calm down. She’s gonna be fine. The doctor said so. She just needs to rest. Have a little faith in her. She’s tough. She’ll pull through this.”

“But if she doesn’t ... Steve, I can’t...”

“Hey. Look at me, Peña. It’s gonna be alright. Now come on. Connie said she’d bring some clothes for you...”

There they were. The voices again. 

Somehow, you knew that they were trying to pull you back to wherever you were supposed to be. 

To the aching you felt. To the mechanical beeping you could hear. To the painfully bright lights hovering overhead. 

To the weight and warmth of someone’s hand holding yours. 

To the familiar face pressed against the bed as he slept, holding you hand tightly as if scared to let you go. 

“Javi?” you croaked. 

Like that, he was awake. 

You worried he’d have whiplash, he sat up so fast, eyes wide in disbelief as he realised you were awake. “Y/N? Oh, thank God!” 

“Y/N?”

“Steve?” you rasped, noticing your other partner as he leapt out of his chair in the corner of the room. The relief was clear as he smiled and hurried to the door. 

“Thank god. I’m gonna grab a nurse.” 

“Ok.” You smiled and turned to Javier who was still holding your hand tight, watching you with bloodshot eyes. “What... how long was I-?”

“Three days,” he whispered. “You really scared me there for a second, hermosa. You... you lost so much blood and they weren’t sure you were gonna make it.” 

“I’m sorry.”

The sight of tears in his eyes was more painful than the bullet hole that was currently sending white hot agony shooting through your side. You’d never seen Javi so torn up before. Never. The worst was when he’d sit silently and smoke for hours without even moving. 

As much as you hated that, you’d take that any day over this. Knowing you were the cause. 

“No. Don’t be,” he dismissed swiftly. “I mean yeah, I wanna shoot you myself for running off and pulling a dumb fucking stunt like that but I get it... I really do. I’d have done the same thing. Hell, I have done the same thing. I just wish you’d asked me to come. Or even Murphy. We would have.”

“The ambassador had his eye on you after the raid this week,” you protested weakly, wincing at the pain in your side as you tried to sit up. “I couldn’t risk you or Murphy or your jobs like that.” 

“Fuck our jobs.”

“Javi -“

“No, hermosa. Listen. I mean this. You come first, understood? Always,” Javi snarled, kissing the back of your hand. “I love you and I mean that. Life isn’t worth it without you. This job means shit all without you. You come first? Ok. Always. Seeing you lying there with all the blood on you... it made me realise a few things and this is one of them. I don’t want a life or a future without you in it.” 

You couldn’t help it as the tears began to flow again, your heart swelling with love for the man in front of you. You couldn’t help but reach out and brush your fingers through his hair as you’d done so many nights before. 

“I love you too, Javier Peña.”

“Good. Remember that when Steve gets back and starts ripping into your ass,” Javier teased, lightening up now that your were awake and talking again. “I won’t be able to save you then, carino. Sorry. Sicarios are one thing, but Murphy? He’s almost as terrifying as Connie.”

Oh fuck. You’d forgotten about Connie. Oh she was gonna kill you. Big time. 

That woman was the biggest mother hen you’d met in your entire life. She’d also probably have your ass on house arrest for the rest of your life after this stunt. 

“Shit,” you whined, dropping back against the pillows. “It was good while it lasted.”

“And good thing we get to do it all again another time,” he hummed. “Just ... not for a while, ok? Not until you’re on your feet.” 

“You mean, not until Connie says so?”

Javi didn’t even flinch as he nodded, deadly serious. “Yep. 100 percent.”

------

Translation: “and you are lucky i love you so much. i hate hospitals. this place is fucking horrid. i cant leave you here alone. not when you are going to wake up any minute now. you hear me? you are going to-”

[dolokhoded]

me starting to actually write this even though it still very obviously has some plot wholes

that ralbert au where race commits war crimes

i think it's really cute

so pulitzer is the big bad guy here for i'm basic reasons

has created some,, weird ass dumb ass evil empire

destroyed a couple towns

caused some battles

divided the world

y'know. stuff like that.

starting off with some spicy unfinished plot 🤩 but lbh it doesn't really matter anyways we're all just here for ralbert

anyways, race and al's families? pretty big part of that.

they're both supposed to take over their fathers' jobs when they grow up

said jobs basically being,, in charge of,,, unleashing people to raid entire towns and burn them to the ground

they grew up side by side, have always been best friends, never seen without each other

but understandably when they started growing up and understanding what was going on around them it,,,,,,, troubled them

and they dealed with it Very Differently

albert did Not like it

he was angry, and he was sad that this was what he was supposed to become and he was already never close with his family so it wasn't really hard for him to decide he didn't want anything to do with them anymore

race,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, okay look

deep inside him race knew what was going on was,,, s o wrong

but race was also from a big tight family, it was so much easier for him to just,,,,,, shut all of that out and pretend he was just doing what was better for them

it was hard for him, it was his family

still you can understand how well it went for them when albert left and race refused to go with him

they were 17 at the time

people against pulitzer's whole thing were obviously not very,,,,,,,,, well appreciated?

the moment albert ran away he was art of the defiance. he was a traitor.

but he was also still dasilva's son and they wanted them on their side, so they wouldn't seriously hurt him

doesn't mean they stopped looking for him

he shared an apartment with romeo and finch for a while, it was in a pretty lowkey neighborhood and they covered for him

and through them he met the rest of the newsies :) who actively helped in trying to help people who's homes were destroyed by pulitzer

there were people actively fighting him too but the newsies were mostly in charge of that

well, until albert and his non-existent impulse control arrived anyways

cause look,,,,, race was being trained for a reason, and eventually he took over

so when you see this ur ex-best friend who you're in love with but have a lot of repressed feelings for, both good and bad, that you decide to dump in the 'im angry' pile and just pretend you hate him and no longer care about him,,,,, fighting occurs

and there was a bit of controversy about albert joining them because "it's the dasilva boy romeo he was specifically trained to kick our asses" but that slowly turns into "yea ok he's very legit but for the love of god someone s t o p him the next time he tries to kiLL SOMEONE-"

that's a hyperbole, of course. even as rivals, albert wouldn't kill race. he barely even hurts him.

if anything, he even kind of looks out for him

he knows he's not supposed to but somehow he still can't bring himself to let race get hurt

besides let's be honest, most of their encounters are just an excuse to bitch at each other, they'd never do anything they know would seriously hurt the other

they know each other pretty well, they grew up together, they know each other's strengths and weaknesses

which is a pretty big advantage for them, honestly

enter,,,, albert dasilva's galaxy brain and the newsies' favorite game

Is Albert A Strategic Genius Or Is He Just In Love With Race

"no i've got this i know race!! i can use that against him!!!! i can guess his every move!!!! that's how well i know him!!!! i can recognize him in a room of like a billion people!!!!! it's my ultra strategic mind!!!! i can tell the sound of his voice from miles away!!!! it's because im so invested!!!!"

specs is like "in the mission or in race"

and albert is like "WHATEVER ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT IT'S MY STRATEGIC MIND"

"I AM A MACHINE SPECS"

"you're chronically dumb"

"S T R A T E G I C M I N D."

albert really came in like well race's plan's gonna be ruined cause IM IN LOVE WITH HIM >:) what a fuckin loser

all this aside,,,,,,, albert never stops trying to get race on their side .

now RACETRACK,,,,,,,,,

we have a WHOLE LOT of being an asshole as a defense mechanism from this boy

in race's eyes, albert abandoned him

in race's eyes, he was given up on. he just wasn't enough to keep him there.

he can't see anything but that and never in a million years would he bring himself to believe albert still cares about him

he'd be getting his hopes too high and letting down his guard, and he can't afford to do that.

race doesn't notice albert trying to help him, he doesn't notice albert very carefully avoiding injuring him, he doesn't notice how albert will never say anything that would hurt him

albert's always protective of race, regardless of if he's beside or against him

which leads us to how once race eventually does get hurt, seriously hurt, literally no one bats an eye when albert returns with race unconscious, demanding they get him help

which they do, cause albert has not shut up about race for like one second, the newsies might as well know as much about him as albert did

naturally when race woke up he,,, had questions

and then he saw albert

he was sat on a chair next to him, sleeping

and this is the first time he's seen him like this in ages

and he gets a little chocked up because holy shit he almost forgot albert was,,,,,like,,, a person

and it wasn't necessary to only see him when fighting

he still had a life and friends and people he loved and he wasn't just this dude who left them because he didn't give a shit about anyone

he could genuinely care for people and he could love people and race just remembered how much he wished he could be one of those people

and how much he wished he could be albert's favorite person again and just sit and talk and laugh with him like they used to

cause that's a part of albert he'd forced himself to just forget about

and then al wakes up and he sees him looking up at him and he's like

"how're you feeling"

and then he's sad cause it's much harder to know albert is a good person with real feelings and he's capable of loving so much and race thinks he's just one of the people who will never get that side of him and he just

"fuck off"

they fight

because of course they do

they're not really sure on what terms they are at this point, and there's so much they need to get out there

at first race is just,,,, stubborn

he won't listen, he demands they let him go back

"we can just let you go, idiot, i shouldn't have ever brought you here in the first place!"

"then why did you?"

and al just shrugs it away as if he hasn't been in love with him for years and would never forgive himself if he left him there to bleed

they just go yelling at each other back and forth for a while until inevitably albert's non-existent impulse control makes his return

and he,,,,, very angrily tells him he loves him

and everything just stops cause that's the one thing race though he'd never hear him say again

and race is literally holding his breath cause he's scared he'll ruin it if he moves in the slightest and it'll all turn out to be in his head but it's not cause when he tells albert he loves him back he's still there and he just,,

takes race's face in his hands and kisses him so softly it's like they weren't just screaming at each other's faces

romeo just fuckin pokes his head in like "i heard yelling but i also heard i love you so i'll assume some of those unresolved feelings were let out and we're all ready to have a nice long healthy chat, yeah? :D"

so they do

they talk. for,,,,,,,,, a long time.

needless to say, race stays

he loves his family and maybe he'll be back for them, maybe he'll help them but he recognizes what's the priority here

plus it's a little clearer now that he doesn't have all those feelings to worry about, and it's been a while since he was actually accepted and loved, which the newsies did instantly. it's pretty obvious where he belongs now.

this au still has,,,,, SO much to unpack, holy shit, but i decided to leave this post here cause,,,,, i can't do all of that now. i might at some point though, if people actually are interested, there's a lot of hurt/comfort from this point. there's the nightmares part which is v soft and i adore it, THERE'S JUST A LOT TO UNPACK. so yeah, i'm finally posting this, ralbert stans, come get y'all's juice.

[dindooku]

rating: E (swearing and violent themes)

word count: 6,572

tw - not explicitly said but can be interpreted as at suicide

And you thought that suddenly waking up on a planet in another Galaxy, only to be accompanied by a space wizard…a Jedi…was the greatest thing ever. Oh no… you were wrong. Granted, that was all great and everything, but it was no match for the fact that you were granted a lie in — a grand one at that.

You can’t remember the last time you let your body wake you up, not an incessant alarm clock or the hailing of bullets. It was weird, but definitely not un-welcomed.

You rolled over to face away from the wall, yawning and grumbling as the hands of sleep slowly lifted their trance. Slowly blinking open your eyes, you suddenly jolt up, remembering where you are, then crying out a curse at the now, new forming lump on the top of your head from the ceiling you’ve just head-butted. “Fuck—,” you mumble as you slowly roll out of bed, lightly rubbing your hand at the sore spot on the back of your head. You take a glance at your watch, 11:13 AM. Jesus, I really must've been tired. Placing your feet on the floor, you flex your toes and submit to the urge to stretch, grumbling again as the aches and pains of years of warfare click and pinch your body. You decide to wrap yourself up in the blanket Obi-Wan had given you as you trudge out into the front room.

But, it was empty, no sign of life. Surely Obi-Wan would’ve told you if he was going out, or leaving you? Either way, you make your way over to the fridge, hoping to find some scraps to munch on.

A sandwich catches your attention, and you quickly wolf it down without question. If it was Obi-Wan’s, you’d just make him another. He’d understand.

Peering around the room again, you test your voice, “Obi-Wan?” Nothing, “Obi-Wan, are you here?” Again, silence. Assuming he’s gone out, you decide it's probably best you get some fresh air, you’ve never been one for sitting around and doing nothing, so you quickly get dressed into a fresh set of clothes and head out into the temple.

Although you’d never been to a Monk temple or anything grandiose like that, you could only assume that this is what it would be like. The halls were quiet, but the occasional patter of footsteps or rage of children laughing broke the silence and tickled that sense of security that so deeply hides away in your chest. You aren’t used to being so…relaxed. For years your body has been on high alert, always assessing, reassessing, waiting for someone to attack you, to hurt you — yet here... you don’t even have to give defending yourself a passing thought. It’s just, completely and utterly calm, serene, balanced.

Before you know it, you’ve paced the halls for the last half hour and now you are stood outside some set of what appears to be... Dojos?

Glancing around again to make sure no one is watching, you gently place a hand on one of the doors, slowly edging it open. You chance a peek inside, but to your satisfaction, it is empty. You quietly step in, making sure not to make any noise as you close the door behind you. Stepping into the room, it is clear that it is some sort of training area, and upon further inspection your suspicions are correct. Around the edge of the room lay different pieces of equipment, which look like obstacles of sorts. You glance back around the Dojo, basking in the natural light that is pouring in through the high windows. The simple, creamy white walls are sturdy, but don’t feel overbearing, or claustrophobic — like before, it's just peaceful in here.

Letting your gaze roll over the room, you come across a cupboard in one corner. Making your way over, you make note of the soft floor beneath you, the cushiony fabric lightly hugging the soles of your feet, dreamlike. Reaching into the cupboard, you’re quickly met with the familiar array of weapons, although these are…different. Surrounding one edge, an array of combat and throwing knives sit comfortably among one another, along the other sits small staffs and odd-shaped objects you’ve never seen before. But in the middle sits a familiar sight, an odd, metal cylinder. Picking it up, you eye it for a second. It's constructed of metal and is about a hands length or two long. Along the bottom sits black, corrugated slats, and as you look up, a stainless steel-like tube makes up the main body to the top where it thins dramatically into a golden copper colour but is then fanned out into a large flat disk. In the centre of the cylinder, sits a red button. And, if you have ever learnt anything from horror or sci-fi movies, is that you should definitely not press the red button.

So what do you do?

You press the red button.

Instantly the room is filled with a violent blue and the electric hum of raw, static energy. The moment chills you to the bone, and the shock of such a marvellous, beautiful object stuns you. You absolutely, 100% could not have guessed that was what the red button would do. And, as if the inner child was pulling puppet strings within your mind, you slowly back up and wave the funny looking laser sword in front of you. The majestic hum of the blade tickles your eardrums, and you can’t help the intoxicating smile that is now riddling your face, scrunching at your forehand and around your eyes, the emotion of happiness and utter awe broadcasted by your innate reaction to such a feat of beauty.

You are transfixed.

But, you should know better, because as you turn around Obi-Wan is staring right at you — and he too is struggling to fight the fantastic grin gracing his face.

“So I see you’ve found my lightsaber,” he mutters.

“This..this is yours?” You whisper, still not taking your eyes off of the mesmerising blue blade.

“Yes, all Jedi have them, they’re called lightsabers. Unfortunately, I must ask for it back,”

“Yes, yes of course, sorry…I—I shouldn’t have touched it, I just, it—” you stutter out, trying to find a reason as to why you touched his stuff other than it looked cool.

“It’s quite alright, Darling, no need to panic,” he chuckles, reaching around you to switch it off so he could place it on his belt, “but I do believe we have some training to do, so…” he trails off, walking over to the cupboard to place the lightsaber back onto its stand, as well as removing his cloak, placing it neatly on the floor. He walks back over to you and places a hand on your shoulder. “Are you ok, my dear?” He asks, genuine concern now threatening to take over his grin.

“Yes…yes, I—I’ve just never seen anything like it. Its—,”

“Beautiful. I know,” he mumbles, giving your shoulder another tight squeeze to reiterate his point, “But, right now, I need to see you fight,” he says, quickly stepping back and getting into a ready position.

“…Fight, you want to, to fight me?” You ask, not quite sure whether he is joking or not.

“Yes, Dear. Loth-Cat got your tongue?” He chides, a smidge of sarcasm lacing his words.

Oh, ok, he wants to play.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to hurt you,” grinning back, you take a step back and calm yourself, standing broad and powerful.

“Hurt me? You could never, darling I’m a Jedi—”, But before he could finish his sentence, you’ve landed a nice, heavy thud of a kick to his chest, which sends his falling onto his back. That's odd, he thinks, I should be able to feel when she’s about to do something, I…what? Obi-Wan is visibly confused, and so you stop and crouch to the ground instantly, patting down his chest to make sure you weren’t too heavy-footed to start off with.

“I—I'm sorry, I shouldn’t have done that,” you say, panicking a little as you pat him down, checking for injuries or any broken bones.

“No—no, it’s me, I--I got distracted,” he mutters, still slightly put out at his inability to use the Force to predict your actions.

“No, I shouldn’t have—” but before you could finish, he’s gripped you by the ankles and is rolling you onto your back. Instantly you roll onto your front and scramble forwards, turning around as you both ready yourself into your respective fighting stances. Again, Obi-Wan lunged at you, but this time you dropped down, kicking your right leg out to trip him from behind. As he fell he grabbed your collar, bringing you down on top of him so that now you were straddling his hips. But, niceties aside, you were in full combat mindset and you were out to win — your body had trained for this for years, and every move was now muscle memory, you were practically a war machine now, designed and manipulated to kill.

So, you braced to the side, jumping back up again to the other side of the room. Obi-Wan followed suit, except — wait. His belt was gone, where…you had it. You had your right hand wrapped a couple of times in a loop, and your left was tightly gripping it as if it were a whip. And that's exactly what you intended to use it for.

Flicking your right wrist, you shot the harsh leather belt out, cracking it just a few centimetres away from the skin on Obi-Wan’s forehead, only then pulling it back, snapping it taut. The toothy grin that pinched at Obi-Wan's eyes didn't put you off like it should've, and instead had the complete and opposite effect, shooting a wildfire of intense heat surging to your core. You were enjoying this way too much, and by the looks of it... so was Obi-Wan, though he'd never admit it. So, you'd use this to your advantage, cracking the belt a couple more times, letting the buckle ting and snap at the pull of your wrist. It kept him at bay for a few moments, but only briefly. Eventually, he lunged forwards, aiming to land a punch as he bound towards you, but you twisted to the side, wrapping his wrist in his own belt. He twisted around, not hesitating to throw a punch to your right cheek. You should’ve expected that, you did just threaten to whip the man, but nonetheless, the thrill of a hard punch to your jaw woke you up. No stupid mistakes. The anger at your mistake was now bubbling, so you quickly wrapped the retreating hand he’d used to punch you into the belt, binding his wrists to yours. He let out a sarcastic chuckle as the realisation hit him — but so did you, both of you reaping the benefits of your...interaction. The smirk on your face grows a little wider now, the true fun only just beginning.

You shifted your weight harshly to the left, throwing him in a 180 to disorient and gain momentum. You then dropped to your knees, only to then twist and bring your entwined wrists above your head and then yanking hard, down over your right shoulder, bringing him onto his back; his head now facing you as his body was strewn away from your thighs. You quickly unwind his wrists, forcing the belt down over his neck to strangle.“Tiger got your tongue, Master?” The satisfaction in your voice over the play on words was clear. Oh, you loved proving people wrong, especially when they pretty much do it for you.

He gently patted your wrist to tap out, and you released him from the hold. Choking a little, he sits up and crosses his legs as he turns to face you, encouraging you to follow suit and do the same. You now both sat cross-legged opposite each-other, knees just lightly touching.

“Where did you learn to do that?” He asked, rubbing slightly at his neck, still grinning despite the discomfort.

“I—I had to learn it myself. In the army, you see, I was the only women in my training battalion, so I was always pitted to fight and train against men, who, if you take a look at me, were typically a lot larger and stronger than me — physically. So, to give myself a fighting chance, I had to play their weaknesses to my advantage,” you said, smiling a little towards the end.

“Go on,” Obi-Wan encourages.

“Well, typically the men would think that they’re going to win, simply because I’m a woman and they’re bigger or stronger than me, but I’m a lover of physics, so I used that to my advantage. They weren’t especially quick or agile, and often they relied on their brute strength to win fights — that's only so good if you can actually land a punch,” you say, harbouring an infectious smug grin as Obi-Wan realised what you were saying.

“Smart girl,” he says, returning your smirk with an equally fictitious grin of his own. And at the use of his words, you blush a little, ducking your head in an effort to hide your quite clear arousal at the specific concoction of praise.  

“Yes, well, I figured if I could avoid their punches and use their own weight against them, the odds were in my favour, you could say I would have the high ground... So, like when I took your belt, I used your momentum against you, which A, — means you end up on the floor or out of place, and B, — I use minimal energy to do so, harbouring your efforts to suit mine. It’s all just simple mechanics, really,” you joke, but pleased with your explanation.

“Good…again,” Obi-Wan says. And with that, you both spend the afternoon training, learning from one another, morphing and smelting your own techniques with his, and vice versa, to a point where you were working in complete unison.

_____

“Master Kenobi, you’re needed immediately in the Council Room, it is urgent—,” comes a voice, a smaller younger creature of sorts as they burst into the training room, catching you both off guard. They’re panting as if they’ve just finished running a marathon.

“Yes, yes, of course, I’ll be there right away. Thank you,” he commands, instantly retrieving his cloak and lightsaber from the cupboard. You follow his movements with your eyes, waiting for his instructions. He walks to the door and is halfway out when he stops, turning towards you.

“Well, come on! We can’t leave them waiting!” He says, waving his arm in a beckoning way to hurry you up.

_____

“Skywalker, you are to accompany Master Kenobi and Amy to the Mid-Rim planet to resolve the escalating tensions,” says Mace Windu.

“Go, you will,” Yoda confirms.

“Yes Masters, although, are we sure it is safe for Amy to be travelling with us?” Anakin asks.

“Trained, is she not, Master Kenobi?” Yoda asks, turning his head towards Obi-Wan.

“Yes, she is. It was evident from our training today that her skill set is…unique, and I feel as though the 501st and 212th will greatly benefit from her direction and expertise,” Obi-Wan assures.

“What do you mean unique, Master?” Anakin mutters, not bothering to hide the smirk on his face. And if looks could kill, Anakin would be facing an early grave as the sharpened daggers of Obi-Wan’s glare was enough to puncture even the most protected of souls.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan starts, cursing the younger man with just the use of his name, “Amy is very skilled in combat, and I feel as though she has more to offer us than what we can offer her,” Obi-Wan punctuates.

“Yes, I am quite keen to see this style of fighting myself, Obi-Wan,” Mace says, rubbing his chin in thought, “Maybe even an incorporation of Vaapad could be organised,” He adds.

“I can ask, although I am sure there will be no objection, Master Windu,” Obi-Wan returns, nodding slightly at the offer. He knows Vaapad would be incredibly beneficial to not only your own fighting style but also that of Windu.

“Midichlorian count, know she does?” Yoda asks, changing the subject to something of more gravity.

“No, I—I have not broached that subject yet. Her energy in the force is something I have never experienced, Masters, as I am sure you can sense it too. I feel as though if we inform her of her abilities, we may not be able to offer the right support or, the fact of the matter being, we do not know what powers she does have,” Obi-Wan says gravely.

No one truly understands what is causing your disturbance in the Force to be so…unruly. They understand that the force is not necessarily embraced on Earth and that the human race is not Force-sensitive. But that does not explain your unique signature. It is not like the usual signature a Force-sensitive may harbour, which is outgoing and pure. Their signature reflects their emotion, their current state of mind. For Obi-Wan, it curls slowly in a smooth, milky cloud of crystalline and sea foamy blues, caressing his form with every breath. However, yours is almost…reversed. Like the light isn’t radiating out from you, but into you — as if you’re sucking in and absorbing the energy as you move. You’re not a vessel to the force, as one would normally expect, instead, you are a drain. And even though the Jedi are encouraged not to feel fear, it is unspoken among the Council members that their unease is not uncalled for. You are dangerous, unhinged, and they haven’t the faintest idea what to do about it.

“Talk to her, you must, important her understanding, it is — only problems it will cause, secrecy will. Trust you Obi-wan, she must,” Yoda says, and the council room is silent. Everyone is contemplating the potentialities of this arrangement, but if anyone were to calm and train the unpredictable nature that is Amy, then it is Obi-Wan; the great negotiator of the Republic.

“Yes, Master Yoda, I will see to it that we have this discussion. To add…what are we to do of her training? Must we teach her the way of the Jedi? She will have to face trials, and as we all know, she is not attuned to the Jedi way,” Obi-Wan asks.

“Hmm…” Yoda ponders, his ears dropping and his attention shifting elsewhere, deep in contemplation, “Meditate I will, future uncertain, it is,” He says. And with that, he bashes his stick to the ground and the meeting is adjourned.  

_____

You’re waiting anxiously outside of the council chambers. You couldn’t necessarily hear what was going on inside, but the general energy was…stifling. It was tense, and more than one person was obviously displeased with the current situation. But, as the doors to the chamber swung open, it was quite apparent who was causing the tension.

Anakin and Obi-Wan storm off down one of the corridors, and though you know it is rude to spy in on conversations, you only wanted to see if there was any way you’d be able to help. That and the fact that you just couldn’t help yourself, the SAS recon training made your skin itch with the need to gather intel, so, you silently watched from afar, keeping enough distance to make sure they couldn’t see you, but just close enough so you could listen in.

“What kind of nonsense is this, she is not trained in the form of Jedi, she will get killed out there, Obi-Wan!” Anakin boomed, his frustration clear.

“She is more than capable of handling herself, Anakin, trust me when I say that she will not be easily intimidated,” Obi-Wan instructed, placing a hand on Anakin’s shoulder, bringing them to a halt just next to a pillar.

“Yes, Obi-Wan, I understand, but she has no idea what she is getting herself into, she’s from another Galaxy for Maker’s sake! Think master, if she is to come with us, she must know,” Anakin demands. Know what?

“Anakin, I know. I do not feel comfortable bringing her along with us on this mission either, but her skill set is unmatched - she has experience beyond her years and her expertise could be game-changing!” Obi-Wan pleads, shaking the hand that is gripping Anakin’s shoulder.

“Game-changing yes, but she isn’t a Jedi, Master—how can we trust her?” Anakin whispers, he knows he is asking dangerous questions, but he cannot rid the fact at hand, you’re dangerous, and he doesn’t want to trigger a chain of unfortunate events which, he feels, the two of them will not be able to control.

“Anakin, please, she must come with us. This is a test of sorts, we must see what she is capable of so that we can react accordingly. Keeping her locked up in the temple will not solve the problem, only make it worse. We must realise her potential before it becomes unhinged,” Obi-Wan mutters. Unhinged…potential? What are they on about?

“Master, with all due respect, I do not feel comfortable fighting alongside a ticking time bomb,” Anakin snarls, his brows furrowing at the idea.

“Anakin, I do not appreciate your tone. She is not as dangerous as you are making her out to be, your ill-received emotions will only make things worse. You must have faith in me, young one. We must trust in the Force, she was brought to use for a reason,” Obi-wan insists, lining his voice with a bit more force this time, making sure his point comes across.

“I suppose you’re right Master…but that doesn’t mean I am comfortable with this, she still has—negative potential,” Anakin whispers, removing Obi-Wan’s hand from his shoulder and turning to step away, “I just hope you’re prepared to do what is necessary if she were to Fall, Obi-Wan,” Anakin mutters before completely turning away and leaving Obi-Wan alone in the hallway. His shoulders slump, and you notice that this is the stance of a beaten, conflicted man.

Without wanting to startle him, you slowly make yourself known to the outside world as you cautiously step into the hallway, bringing Obi-Wan’s attention to you.

You can practically feel the tension rolling off of him, and if the look on his face didn’t say anything, you knew that Obi-Wan Kenobi was in need of a hug. You slowly strode up to him, maintaining the soft, but stern eye contact to make sure that he stood in place and just as you were within reaching distance, you grabbed him, pulling him into your arms and wrapping him tightly in your presence. You tucked your head into his chest and listened to the slowly decreasing beat of his heart. He tripped back a little, and a small gasp left his lips, but just as quick as he had moved back, he moved twice as quick into your embrace, tucking his head down and into your shoulder.

Obi-Wan knew this was wrong. He knew he shouldn’t be seeking console in others, and that as a Jedi he should release these feelings of anger and frustration to the Force, not rely on the comfort of others. But it just felt so good to be in your arms, and for you to be in his. He’d not felt the warmth of a hug in too long, and since Satine, he never trusted himself to ever let go if he found himself in one again — and he supposes now that he should have listened to himself because, as time slowly moves on, his resolve on letting go of you is quickly wearing thin. He chastises himself for being so open and flirtatious, for insinuating plainly devilish intentions, intentions he is not sure he will ever be able to allow to come to fruition, intentions he wants but knows he cannot get.

“Obi, talk to me,” and that just about cuts it. The sweet, muffled voice grabs him by the heart and corners him — the empty, hollow shell of his capacity to care and love others is now being forced open and the sand timer has started ticking. He knows now it’s not a matter of if, but a matter of when. And that realisation alone terrifies him. He can’t lose another, he can’t go through that pain again. Too many times has the sand vial been broken, and too many times has it been hurriedly repaired and glued together, only for the missing pieces to allow sand to trickle out and collect in pools, sinking into hollow feelings of despair and loneliness. But now, you’re here, and the tighter you squeeze, the less sand falls from his grip. And so, he understands, it’s you that is keeping him together, it’s you that is allowing his version of time to return to normal, to reverse the entropy of darkness threatening to consume his soul.

“I—I feel so conflicted Amy,” Obi-Wan mutters.

“I, I think you know what you need to do, and I think you know that you need to be a bit lighter on yourself, to trust your instincts a bit more,” you say, trying to reassure him that his feelings are not invalid, “Sometimes, Obi, following the rules isn’t always the right thing to do. We learnt this the hard way on Earth, we all flocked like sheep to cater the needs of those who demanded it, instead of looking at the bigger picture and fixing the problem at hand. You are a wise man Obi-Wan, and I have complete faith in whatever decisions you make, you must let go Obi-Wan, let go of the feelings that plague you so new ones can heal you,” And you punctuate your meaning by squeezing just that little bit tighter.

Obi-Wan sighs, you were right. He had to let go of those past feelings and focus on the bigger picture. Grieving is a natural part of life, but the whole purpose of grieving is to feel and let go. Holding onto the past will only suppress the future, and he knows what he must do, he knows what is right, he just hopes that he has the strength to do it.

You tug on Obi-Wan a little tighter again, before letting go. You move your head from his chest, but bring your gaze back up to him, holding onto both of his biceps, you sigh, “I’ve never been one for politics Obi-Wan, but I have spent my fair share working under those that rule. You have a choice in this, I did not have that luxury. Do what feels right, do what brings you comfort, do not sacrifice your own needs for the needs of others who would not return the favour to you. Sometimes... you have to be selfish.” You finish.

Obi-Wan lifts his head and just stares at you. Everything you said was exactly what he needed to hear, exactly what he’d been telling himself but refusing to believe. But, because the words came from you, unprompted and honest, he must do his duty and believe them. Yes, he must do what feels right. But what he feels right now is definitely not what he should be thinking, as his attention finds itself upon your lips.

He’s drawn like a ship in a Tracta beam, he can’t look away. He wants so badly to kiss you, to take that pretty mouth of yours for himself. He wants so badly to show you how he feels, to show his hidden, deep desires to seek pleasure in you.

And you gaze up at him, following his attention and realising that he too is thinking what you’re thinking. Your heart is practically soaring right now. Never have you fallen so hard for someone, ever. You are just under some sort of spell, both of you frozen in time and not wanting to crank the lever to start it back up again; like entropy has met its equilibrium.

That's when you find yourself leaning up, pushing slowly on your tiptoes to meet the invitation of his lips. Except you can't, because Obi-Wan has stepped back, and has decided that now of all times is to fiddle with his belt and reach into his pocket and turn on his communicator.

Hurt doesn’t even begin to cover it.

You get the hint. He doesn’t want anything to do with you. He just wants to wind you up, make you believe he wants you, and then leave you hanging, each and every time. Well, you’re not falling for it again. You know your way back to your quarters, and you know its best if you just leave without saying anything, making your way back to the privacy of your bedroom to seethe there.

But you don’t. You’re pissed.

“Fuck you.”

Obi-Wan freezes mid-conversation with Cody, who was just prepping the ship for departure tomorrow morning. His gaze cuts to you, eyes now alight with something you’ve never seen before, a darkened, slow-burning fire that all but fuels your own anger.

“Pardon?” Obi-Wan replies, sternly, almost inaudible. But you hear him all right.

“I said, Fuck. You.” And you punctuate each and every syllable.

“Excuse me, Cody” Obi-Wan says, and closes the top on the holo-projection, although his stare has not left yours throughout this whole interaction. Your heart is thumping now, to the point you fear it may actually pop out of your chest and run down the hallways due to the stress. But you're not backing down. You’ve been in some of the most dangerous, stressful situations one can imagine, and you didn’t back down then, so there's no way in hell backing down now. But, before you have time to counter, Obi-Wan has grabbed you by the arm and is hauling you down the corridors of the Jedi temple. You protest but punching and pushing at his grip — but its unrelenting, and the two of you just scramble against each other until you are yet again at the door to his quarters. The door slides open and he yanks you in, and just as the door closes you let all of your unbridled rage rear its ugly head. You twist out of his grip and kick him into the wall, bridging a few feet gap between the both of you. He recovers and goes to grab you again but you stop him dead in his tracks.

A feeling you’ve never felt before, something foreign, but…intelligent, alive, and very, very powerful. It's coursing through your veins now and it’s almost blinding you, and the familiar buzz of static clouds your mind and brings dark spots to your vision, but you hold out, you’re not done yet. You throw a hand out in front of you, splaying your fingers and forcing your palm in his direction, channelling all your anger and hurt in his direction, pushing him back up against the wall. Obi-Wan gasps as he is shunted back, the air in his lungs knocked out from the sheer blunt shock of your reaction.

Next, you grip your hand into a tight fist, and slowly begin dragging it towards you. Obi-Wan begins to choke, not from strangulation, but instead from the agonising pain of the force within him being torn and ripped from his control. You hold him there, in this complete state of distress, teetering on the edge of both yours, and his own self-control.

“Don’t ever touch me like that again, do I make myself clear?” You growl, your voice wavering and flickering a harrowing tale of hurt and anger.

“Y—yes…” Obi-Wan breaths out, struggling against the lingering pressure on his chest.

“If you don’t like me, Obi-Wan, stop leading me on. It is cruel.” Snarling this time, your emotions twist into excruciating hurt, the power you harbour intensifying and magnifying the bleeding ache of rejection.

“It's not that I do—don’t like you…I—Jedi are not…attachment is forbidden” he chokes, and just like a switch, the rage dims and Obi-Wan drops to the floor, gasping for air. He clutches his chest, but the pain is not the lack of oxygen, but more so the sudden influx of the Force surging back into his body. Like pins and needles in a leg, or a cramp, the feeling that returns is not unwelcome, but it is painful to say the least, even if it be temporary.

And that's when you realise what exactly you’ve just done. The guilt is unparalleled. It doesn’t matter if it is forbidden or not, it's the fact that he said no, he pulled away, and that your initial reaction was to act like a spoilt child and throw a tantrum, a dangerous, uncontrollable tantrum. The rage from before has slowed its pace, and now the heavy, leaded guilt sinks you to the ground. You have never reacted like this before. You’ve always had a close relationship with anger, but you’ve never let it rule you; normally you would embrace it and use it to your advantage, only to let the emotion slip away when the time had passed. But for some inexplicable reason, the moment he rejected you, you saw red.

“I—I’m, sorry, Obi-Wan, I’m so—sorry, I don’t know what that is, I’m so so sorry, please—,” You mutter out, still stuck in place. You gaze down at your hands and flex your fingers. Never have you done anything like that. But that isn’t your main concern right now, Obi-Wan is. You did this, this was your fault, now fix it. “Please, let me help you, I—I didn’t—,”

“Darling, it's ok, just, please…manage your emotions. I feel I am partly to blame for this too, I—I must explain myself,” Obi-Wan assures as he pushes himself up off the ground, brushing down his garments as a nervous response to the tricky situation he now finds himself in. He looks up at you and immediately his heart sinks. Your eyes are red and puffy, cheeks stained with tears, and you’re visibly trembling. He knows he owes you an explanation for his behaviour at the very least, “Why don’t we go and sit down on the sofa and talk this out, hmm?” He says, bringing an arm out as he cautiously steps forward, ushering you over to the sofa. You both sit, except you take extra care to sit on the opposite side of the sofa, leaving as much space as you can between each-other. You don’t want to hurt him again, and now you don’t even trust yourself to keep a tap on your own emotions.

You tuck your hands underneath your ribs and wrap around yourself, curling in. You feel so small now, so weak and miserable, it’s embarrassing. This whole situation is a complete and utter fucking mess, you’re a mess, your life is a mess. But you’re broken out of your self wallowing by a gentle hand, a lifeline, courteous of the ever-generous Obi-Wan. He pulls the closest arm out from its grip around you and pulls,  slowly encouraging you over towards him until eventually your head is resting on his lap and you’re laying out along the sofa. One of his hands sits along the upper part of your waist, where his thumb leaves small, comforting circles on your trembling ribs, whilst the other slowly soothes your hair in gentle, passive strokes.

Eventually, you’re calm enough to reason, and Obi-Wan breaks the silence.

“It is forbidden for Jedi to have attachment… attachment leads to feelings of anger and jealousy, and therefore to the Dark Side," Obi-Wan starts, but you cut him off.

"You don't have to explain yourself, it's ok, no means no and I'm sorry I read things wrong, and I apologise for my language, it was most rude of me to address you like that, especially whilst you were mid-conversation," you sniffle, trying your best to hide the cracks of nervousness in your words.

"Amy, it's...it's complicated. I accept your apology, although I am sure Commander Cody found it quite amusing--," but before he can comfort you, your heart drops. Oh shit.

"C--commander?" you mutter, hoping that you just heard Obi-Wan wrong and you didn't just swear in front of a senior ranking official.

"Yes, Commander," Obi-Wan reiterates.

Oh, Jesus Christ. You've really blown the boat out on this one, what a fucking idiot.

"I am so sorry, Obi-Wan, I--," you stop, not wanting to dig yourself into a hole you can't get out of. Maybe you should take Frankie's advice and just keep your mouth shut, "so much for a great first impression," you mutter out loud. You've completely blown it. The room falls silent now, and you slowly allow yourself to revel in the calming touch of Obi-Wan. You get it, he's just being nice, being the gentleman he has been born and raised to be -- but deep down you don't want things to be that simple; you want him to want you, you want these small actions and personal moments to have an ulterior motive; to be for you because he feels for you, not because it's the right thing to do, but because you want to feel worth something, to feel like a possession and not an object. You've been nothing but a number, a tool in the rigorous machine that is violent politics for over a decade now. You forbid yourself from luxuries like a social life or sentimental connections, but you're not home anymore, you're in a completely different Galaxy. But life is never fair you reason; because even though you're ready to start letting someone in, they are not even remotely interested in returning the gesture. It hurts, but when has life ever been anything but painful for you? Looking back on it, what has your life been? You spent all those years 'doing good' and serving others, only to never have others do good for you; what's the point in living life if it isn't even yours to enjoy?

Life is just a vicious cycle of hurt and regret, and now more than ever you wish you pulled your own trigger all that time ago.

Obi-Wan has been quiet for some time now, and, now you focus again on your physical body, you notice his hands have stilled, resting peacefully on your head and shoulder. You chance a look up to make sure he's ok, and you're glad you did because Obi-Wan's head was leaned over onto the side of the arm of the sofa, completely passed out from sleep. You couldn't help but smile at his peaceful form; a couple of unruly tendrils of golden strawberry blonde hair tickling his forehead, and the painful lines of stress melted away, giving in to the smooth, tranquil blanket of serenity. He truly was a masterpiece, and he didn't even know it. You knew this man didn't reciprocate his feelings to you, through either his own decision or that of the Jedi rulings, but it didn't mean you had to be cruel, so, you just relaxed, fully indulging in the company of one another in the seclusion of his apartment, away from prying eyes and judgement.

You could go through the hurt if it meant you could have more moments like this -- this was worth it. He was worth it.

[chikkou]

I'd ask this on your Lisa sideblog but you don't have anon on and I'm shy lol, but do you have any headcanons relating to Lisa the First? Like Lisa's views on religion, her relationship with her mother, if any of the various worlds we see mean anything?

hoh man i didnt even know anon wasnt on LMAO... ill turn it on after i post this!

also fuck YEAH i do holy shit i fucking LOVE lisa the first!! i know its sort of the black sheep of the lisa series, since it is a completely different type of game and was clearly austins first game, but i fucking ADORE it dude. the music - which he made ENTIRELY IN THE FREE TRIAL OF FL STUDIO BY THE WAY - is FANTASTIC, the art direction is actually pretty fucking incredible for an rpgmaker game that uses a good deal of basic assets, and the gameplay.... ok yeah that part is a bit lacking but its a yume nikki-style game be nice it was his first time LMAO

ANYWAY back to ur question. first and foremost, i think this is not even a headcanon so much as straight up canon, but lisa DESPISES christianity. marty is christian, probably catholic given the golden crosses everywhere, and he is a fucking scumbag hypocrite. lisa likely associates all of christianity with this line of thinking, as there is one room in the bile area where the melted martys (although i suppose we can just call them joy mutants now LMAO) simply stand in a circle surrounding one big cross. the role of the melted martys is up for interpretation of course, as is everything, but after playing the painful and seeing them described as “mindless sheep,” i think this is how lisa viewed them. so they likely represent other people that, to lisa, are probably just as sick and disgusting as marty

lisas relationship with her mother... i go back and forth on this one a lot. i can never decide if i prefer the headcanon that lisas mom died in childbirth, and so lisa never met her, or if i prefer that lisas mom was around for a very short time and then either left or died. the fact that she says “i didnt want to leave” at the end of the first leads me to believe that she most likely died. in either case, the memory of her mother was clearly important to lisa, as she wears her pendant through the entire game and its explicitly noted as being a gift from her. in either case, i think that the death/absence of the mother is heavily implied to be the primary cause behind martys descent into alcoholism and lisas abuse, since the white room strongly implies that marty did at one time sincerely love and care for her as a father properly should 

as for the meaning of each of the rooms, i think most of them are fairly self explanatory, but some of them are a bit more vague, so ill break it down in terms of how i see it (and ill put them under the cut because its long as hell):

martys house - this is the most literal one. pretty self-explanatory. the dark, yet vibrant colors and the ear-bleedingly loud tv are pure sensory overload, something lisa probably deals with on a regular basis. when lisa goes outside and it turns into a sky of marty faces, i think this is the transition into the psychological part of the game

the lobby - this is honestly just pure yume nikki ripoff LMAO... but if i had to ascribe a symbolic meaning to it, i think its probably a quiet and safe area for lisa to retreat to in her mind when she needs it, but even that eventually gets sullied as tricky rick makes his way there, too (and tells her hes “just waiting” when she talks to him). the majority of gameplay is lisa searching for items with which to kill tricky rick, who always abuses and disparages her whenever she talks to him, telling her she’ll never forget. as for the reason why... well, take one look at him and its pretty clear whats going on there. (the name is also a reference to richard nixon, whose nickname was... well, you can figure it out!)

the town - the bar area is 100% my favorite from this world; lisa clearly hates alcohol and anyone who drinks it, associating them all with marty, and that music... all i can say is YUCK. the entire section also consists of lisa having to give up something in exchange for what she needs to move on, and usually getting the raw end of the deal out of it (she gives one marty a banana, he gives her a banana peel in return). she does all that while avoiding a marty following her outside who repeatedly tells her “you cant escape,” and upon reaching tricky rick (who is atop a narrow, columnar, PINK mountain), it becomes pretty clear whats happening to her. 

the sea room - fucking marty spiders man. im assuming they represent the sickly feeling of crawling skin she gets when she looks at him or is anywhere near him, but holy GOD they are annoying to deal with. she kills tricky rick with pills here - we dont know what kind of pills these are, but i interpret them as sleeping pills, and given the rumbling music and the rapid cycling marty background, i wonder if he forced her to take these. marty is everywhere here, but the only one she can speak to is seen chilling on a raft of some kind. marty likely spent much of his time recreationally, i.e. drinking, so it makes sense why this would be here

the rope room - theres no symbolism here this is just pure comedy (LMAO). if i HAD to assign some meaning to this area, it would be that lisa likely is so despondent at this point that putting in effort to do anything feels utterly pointless, much like climbing this long-ass rope was

the white room - as i mentioned earlier, i personally believe that this area depicts the previous relationship between marty and lisa (and also has one of my favorite songs in the game). he is shown doing traditional fatherly things - he is no longer wearing sunglasses and is wearing a suit, meaning he was likely employed, and is actually smiling. he also spends time with her in a completely platonic, familial way. when she interacts with him, there is a little heart over his head. after lisa walks through the golden statues (which will reappear later), the entire world becomes filled with bile, and martys appearance returns to that of the other martys, but with an extremely warped, grotesque face. the item she needs in this area to kill tricky rick is found between two golden crosses.

notice that all of the items she kills tricky rick with - a razor, pills, and now a plastic bag - are things that a child could plausibly get their hands on; none of them are explicitly weapons. i think this shows both her age and how often she must have considered using those things against him. 

the bile room - probably my favorite area in the game, and also features what i consider the quintessential lisa song. this area really drives home lisas disgust with marty and with christianity as a whole - it almost certainly has the highest concentration of crosses, and it is also quite literally covered in wall-to-wall bile, dirty water, and disgusting houses. a lot of the most graphic sights, like the melting martys and the pond martys (no idea what to call them LMAO) are here, so i think this is pretty much the lowest circle of hell for lisa. marty gives lisa a freshly cut finger in exchange for a napkin here; im not necessarily sure what that represents, but i think the napkin was used by marty to masturbate (as he says “i needed that” after he takes it), so perhaps the finger is martys?

lisa kills tricky rick here in a cave that is not-so-subtly shaped like a penis, and gets a vhs tape in which he pretty explicitly states what is going on in the game; he even pretends like he doesnt know who lisa is at first, which somehow makes it even more disgusting. the fact that vhs tapes play a role here sort of makes me wonder if marty really WAS filming some of what he was doing, and given that lisa the joyful confirms that brad was forced to somehow participate in lisas abuse, that is.... horrific to think about, honestly

the marty tape - this tape just has the player (as marty) walk up to lisa and suited marty, who are having a tea party with a plastic tea set. they both get hearts over their heads if you talk to them. i think this drives home that he and lisa did once have a normal relationship, and perhaps theres some part of marty who misses that? theres a LOT of ways you can interpret this; having the player become marty really calls a lot into question.

the mansion - the room leading here has a marty staring directly at the player who informs lisa that she needs a sword to progress. unsubtly, the sword must be placed into the crotch of a womans statue. the mansion inside is beautiful and ornate, and easily the most gorgeous area in the game - and it all leads to what appears to be a proto-joy mutant marty, sort of looking like jabba the hutt. i dont doubt that this is intentional, given that jabba the hutt is associated with slave leia, and its not at all a far leap to call lisa martys slave. the golden statues of women, as well as many golden crosses, are everywhere in this area. its actually quite a large space with a lot of thought put into it, so im really upset that i cant figure out more of what it represents LMAO

the final area - lisa seems to go back to her actual house, but upon leaving her room and entering whether the living room would be, the whole area changes. she encounters herself in a blood red room, but when she talks to the other lisa, she turns into marty. i think this represents a clear question - who is lisa without him? IS she anyone? or is she just a vessel for him to do with what he pleases? she encounters a naked marty telling her to give up shortly after, and flees from him, but is followed by voices repeatedly telling her that she must accept her fate. i think this clearly show the mental state of lisas last days. she was tormented, eternally. she truly felt there was no escape from marty. even the background becomes nothing but martys face, over and over again, as the end screen flashes.

at the end text, she finds a video tape, and in the tape sees someone who is ostensibly her mother from behind. she apologizes for not being there for her, but when that figure turns out, its martys face that she sees. the sky turns into marty. the music becomes corrupted and overrun with pretty fucked up laughter. she tries to run, but marty is already everywhere. theres nowhere for her to run. and then the game is over.

note that the video tape comes AFTER the games end screen, which stops not long after the appearance of the naked marty. so i personally believe that the “game over” represents her deciding to take her own life, rather than just give up and accept her fate. by running from him into the blackness, she got away from marty the only way she could have. it is sad and horrible, but that is honestly the best ending that she could have gotten in this game.

the first is definitely not as good as the painful in terms of gameplay, that much i can agree on, but i really think people miss out on a lot by not playing it. i think its really crucial to see lisas life from her own perspective before you can see it from brads - after all, brad may have known more than anyone else about what was going on, but he did not experience it like lisa did. for brad, lisa is a symbol of his own regrets and failures, but lisa was a PERSON (well, in-universe anyway LMAO). she suffered on her own, with pretty much no one to help her, and then she suffered so much that she couldnt take another second of it. 

[macguires]

I'm so late but I sure hope you're still doing that ask meme because if you are I'm giving you Hannibal and Star Wars. Because I know you too well and I know you'd be waiting ;D - tattlecrimc

YESSSSSSS EDEN BLESS U (i’m assuming you mean this one bc that’s the only one i’ve reblogged recently)

i will ramble horribly on the hannibal one and i’m very sorry about it so i’ll leave that for last so i can put it under a read more

i should probably warn u that the only movie fresh in my memory is the force awakens so all of this is gonna be answered through a v tfa-heavy lens but ok

star wars

three favourite male characters: poe dameron, kylo ren & general hux (DON’T KILL ME i know kylo & hux are awful, the fandom paired w/ my pre-existing love for domhnall gleeson did this to me and i am v ashamed). finn, han solo, bodhi rook, cassian andor, chirrut imwe & luke skywalker are also v dear to me. listen i just have a lot of love to givethree favourite female characters: jessika pava (i’d better see So Much of her in ep8), phasma & padme amidala. & also rey! ‘Needs More Girls’ is my opinion on most franchises but especially star warsfavourite pairing(s): finn/poe, kylo/hux, rey/jessika & han/luke! i also like obi-wan/anakin in the sense that i don’t actively go looking for stuff abt it but when i do see it on my dash my heart does a lil “!!”notp(s): r*ylo is like one of the only ships on my blacklist so that probably tells u something. i’m also p Ew about rey with any of the villains, so that also rules out rey/hux & rey/kylo/hux which i see way too often all over the place. also you wouldn’t think snoke/kylo would be a thing but i’ve seen fics & i’ve seen art and i’ve like cried every single time, experiencing that was my tragic backstory and now i’m a jaded & cynical anti-hero who’s seen Too Much™least favourite character: snoke who’s like me: i’ll hesitantly say padme amidala? i saw the prequels when i was too young to be properly interested in them and i haven’t rewatched them yet so 99% of my knowledge is secondhand, but from what i’ve seen she’s the most relatable most attractive: jessika pava tbh, yet another reason behind me hoping she’s around a lot in the next movie, i am Absolutely in love alreadyfavourite moment/scene: THAT’S MY JACKET(also lowkey the whole starkiller/hosnian system scene, that was shot so impressively w/ the whole ~greatcoat blowing dramatically in wind~ and the brief reaction shot of the people on hosnian prime and the lights shooting across the sky and damn)favourite quote(s): LOTS

“so this is how liberty dies. with thunderous applause.” - padme

“if you live long enough, you see the same eyes in different people.” - maz

“mm. lost a planet, master obi-wan has. how embarrassing.” - yoda

“are you kidding me? i’m blind!” - chirrut 

“there’s a problem on the horizon. …there is no horizon.” - k2-so

“so you’re with the resistance?”“obviously. yes, i am. i am with the resistance, yeah. i’m with the resistance.”“i’ve never met a resistance fighter before.”“well, this is what we look like. some of us. others look different.” - rey & finn

“lieutenant, get back to your station!”“just look! we won’t survive. even hux is gone!” - rodinon

“through the ages, i’ve seen evil take many forms: the sith. the empire. today, it is the first order.” - maz

“where is my boyfriend? […] i like that wookiee.” - maz

ok right. now for my favourite thing in the world. the show i don’t shut up about. the universe to which my heart belongs

hannibal

three favourite male characters: will graham, hannibal lecter & anthony dimmondthree favourite female characters: chiyoh, molly graham & reba mcclane (also beverly katz. and freddie lounds. and abigail hobbs. and literally every other girl)favourite pairing(s): hannibal/will, margot/alana, reba/molly, abigail/marissa & jimmy/brian are the ones i pay most attention to, but i’m honestly also down for literally any other f/f ship u can imagine from this shownotp(s): there isn’t anything i would specifically call a notp, but i’m not a huge fan of will/alana or hannibal/alana i guess? just bc as much as i love will & hannibal, alana deserves 1000x better and i lovelovelove her with margot. i also dislike mason with literally anyone for what i would hope are obvious reasons. i also tend to be kinda cringey about abigail with will or hannibal in a romantic/sexual sense bc it’s made very clear that their relationship with her is parent/child and that she’s a teenager so it feels v creepy to meleast favourite character: i like them enough as characters but i’ll say francis dolarhyde & mason verger. bc everything mason does ever makes me feel vaguely ill and my first impression of francis dolarhyde was him stretching and grunting @ his mirror in briefs w/ Glistening Muscles and i was done with That and ready to move on in under 0.00002 seconds but it just….. kept happeningwho’s most like me: peter bernardone, abigail hobbs & s1!will graham most attractive: chiyoh! i was literally Gone from the second we saw her through will’s goddamn binoculars favourite moment/scene: literally every second of dark!will i am so here for that. every moment from when he attacked freddie in the barn and then. u know. ate randall tier with hannibal, the whole ~i’ve given up good & evil for behaviourism~ conversation and the knife exchange in the kitchen. also him bringing randall’s body to hannibal in the middle of the night like some dog looking for approval wtf. and obviously him & hannibal double-teaming & killing francis in the season finale and running the fuck away together and then coming back to eat bedelia like I JUST REALLY LOVE DARK!WILLfavourite quote(s): i have SO MANY. some of them i just think are gorgeous and thought-provoking, some i like for shippy reasons or bc they were super chilling or Ominous on a rewatch/paired with later context, and some i just find straight-up hilarious

hannibal: “i’ve always found the idea of death comforting. the thought that my life could end at any moment frees me to fully appreciate the beauty and art and horror of everything this world has to offer.”

hannibal: “the essence of the worst in the human spirit is not found in the crazy sons-of-bitches. ugliness is found in the faces of the crowd.”  

jack: “you remember when you decided to call hannibal?”will: “i wasn’t decided when i called him. i just called him. i deliberated while the phone rang… i decided when i heard his voice.”jack: “you told him we knew.” will: “i told him to leave, because i wanted him to run.”jack: “why?”will: “because… because he was my friend. and because i wanted to run away with him.” 

hannibal: “you cannot control with respect to whom you fall in love.” 

will: “i’ve never known myself as well as i know myself… when i’m with him.” 

hannibal: “when the fox hears the rabbit scream, he comes a-running. but not to help. when you hear jack scream, why will you come running?”

chiyoh: “you have a taste for it now.”will: “for what?”chiyoh: “harm.”will: “do you?”chiyoh: “i was violent when it was the right thing to do. but i think you like it. […] if you don’t kill him, you’re afraid you’re going to become him.”will: “yes.”

freddie: “i’ve interviewed enough serial killers to know one when i see one. […] a very specific brand of hostility. i see it every time i look at will graham.” 

gray: “there is no god.”hannibal: “well, not with that attitude.” 

hannibal: “hello! i love your work.” (YOU NEED CONTEXT FOR THIS ONE BUT I LOVE IT)

guest: “it smells divine!”hannibal: “it is! i say that without ego. i don’t require conventional reinforcement.” 

hannibal: “that may have been impulsive.”

hannibal: “a paradox.”alana: “freddie lounds thinks the two of you are a paradox. she sees something no one else sees.”will: “and what’s that?”alana: “that neither of you is the killer she’s writing about… but together you might be.” 

will: “i’d pack my bags if i were you, bedelia. meat’s back on the menu. […] ready or not, here he comes.” 

freddie: “what will understands is that if you can’t beat hannibal lecter… join him.” 

hannibal: “what’s the meat? veal? pork?”will: “she was a slim and delicate pig.”hannibal: “i’ll make you lomo soltado. we’ll make it together. …you slice the ginger.” […]hannibal: “this meat is not pork.”will: “it’s long pig.” (RIDICULOUS. now they’re both making puns while eating people)

will: “is hannibal in love with me?”bedelia: “could he daily feel a stab of hunger for you and find nourishment at the very sight of you? yes. but do you ache for him?”  

[adventurousrecovery]

You Wish

I was beaten and I let him. By the end of our relationship I was being called names, accused of doing things I hadn't done, constantly put down, and anything I did was never good enough. Our relationship ended and I had no idea who I was. I fell apart only to put myself back together. Five years later my ex contacts me via my artist page. I had recently changed the name on my personal page, making it difficult for clients and weirdos to find me. I am glad I did so. I finally enter into a relationship after 5 years and shortly after am contacted by my ex, who is now married with a kid.

(December 11, 2017)

Ex: Hey, Caitlin! How are you!?

Me: I am doing well. It's been a tough year with changes and losses, but has drastically taken a turn.

(December 12, 2017)

Ex: I'm sorry to hear you've been through some stuff, but I'm thankful things seem to be getting better! Listen...I was going through some stuff and stumbled upon your old gameboy. I thought you might appreciate getting it back.

*sends picture of the gameboy*

Me: Yes!

Ex: Awesome! Well I'm not sure what your schedule is like these days, but just let me know and we'll figured something out.

Me: I live in Terre Haute, but occasionally come south for the weekends and appointments. I will be down south this weekend, but not sure if I will make it to Eville on Sunday. I have numerous things in Evansville Monday and plan on attending AOC.

Ex: Ok that's fine. Just send me a message when you're in town and we'll work something out!

Me: Sounds good!

Me: Did you happen to find any cartridges that went with it?

Ex: Pokemon Special Pikachu is in it. If there were any other cartridges you had that are missing I'm more than happy to replace them. The kids used them...so there's no tellin where they may be at this point!

Me: Naw, that's fine.

( I only wanted my Pokemon cartridge because I was obsessed with it as a child and the most important of the few I had. I never contacted him. My weekend was so overwhelming with the introduction of my dog to my family while being reminded as to why I limit visits. I was so upset and anxious by being home that I thought it best to return to Terre Haute. I did not inform him. I didn't have to. I owed him nothing. I spent the week reflecting on how far I had come since he had broken up with me. I needed to remind myself of the person I had become.)

(December 23, 2017)

Me: I will be in Eville this evening. Is there a time that works for you?

Ex: Shouldn't matter too much. I have a house over by UE off walnut. Where will you be?

(Why mention the location of your house? Attempted bragging? Did he expect me to stop by, alone? Pffft....please.)

Me: I will be at AOC. I may also be somewhere before or after that depending on my sister and her choice place of meeting for Christmas exchange.

Ex: Ok just let me know when you're in town and we'll figure it out.

(His grammar and punctuation became sloppy compared to when he first messaged me. I did not respond, but 3 hours later he felt a need attempt to gain control.)

Ex: I'll just plan on meeting you over at AOC if that's ok

Me: Sure, before or after? The parking lot is jank because it is under construction so parking is on the side streets.

Ex: Probably before. What time will you be there?

Me: Hahaha no clue because I am currently making Christmas treats and it is not going well.

(The treat making not going well was true. However, I did know what time I would arrive, 6:30 when it started at 7:00. I needed time to compose and center myself.)

Ex: Lol it's all good. Whatever works for you is cool with me.

Me: I will try to be there 15 min early, but it is in the big building not the small.

Ex: Ok when does it start? 7?

Me: Yes

Ex: Cool

(3 hours later)

Me: I'm here. The entrance that faces Lincoln is open with the flag pole

Ex: What are you driving?

(Why did that matter? I kept my description minimal. The lack of lighting and parking on the side streets would make it difficult for him to locate my car.)

Me: My Pontiac, but I'm inside.

(I wanted it to be clear that I was not stepping outside. If he wanted to meet he had to put forth effort. I had contacted other members and informed them of his history and that we were meeting. They were there for safety. He arrived 10 minutes before the meeting. He brought his son and wife. Members acknowledged his arrival, greeting him with hugs though he hadn't been to a meeting there since we dated. I know because I was terrified I would see him there after we broke up. He avoided eye contact. In fact, he handed me my gameboy while having a conversation with someone else, not even looking in my direction. I thanked him. His family left. I expected more, but was happy it was over. I thought maybe he had changed was going to make an amends considering it is a 12 Step program. Nope. During the meeting, he further messages me and it took a completely different direction of weird while confirming his narcissistic personality.)

Ex: Hey listen...I wanted to stay and talk with you a bit, but you seemed upset. I didn't want to ruin your night or anything. Since I had the family with me I didn't think it would be best to stick around...especially if you feel any animosity toward me. I just wanted to give you your gameboy. Thought it might make you happy to have it back after all these years. If you're upset with me about something please let me know so I can do my best to fix it. Praying for you...and I sincerely hope you have a wonderful Christmas, Caitlin.

(He assumed I was upset, creating a situation that doesn't exist so he might wiggle his way into my life and feel better about himself. My happiness is not nor was it ever dependent on the return of my Gameboy. Therefore, there is nothing to fix. I mended myself.)

(Minutes later)

Ex: Can I call you or you call me when you leave there? I don't want there to be any unresolved issues anymore. I can feel there are. *gives me his number*

(That's a fuck no. I will not provide a means of further harassment.)

(2 hours later)

Ex: It's been 5 years. That's a long time to hold onto something. I can't make it better if you don't let me. I'm here when you're ready to talk.

(He thought about it for hours. What makes him think he has the power to "make it better"? It is clear that it is bothering him more than it has me. I was given 5 years of being single to rebuild my life and become the woman that I am. I am aware of his manipulative, sneaky, and narcissistic games. I have the advantage. I worked through the emotions surrounding our relationship. He jumped into another relationship before ours was over, distracting himself from whatever core issue is now currently eating at him.)

(December 24, 2017)

I received a message from my ex's wife via my artist page and personal page.

Wife: Good morning Caitlin. I hope this message finds you well. I read your blog and am saddened by the picture you've painted of (insert Ex's name here). He is a excellent father and husband, nothing like what you have depicted. (Insert ex's name here) has never spoken badly of you and only said that he ended the relationship between you and him because he didn't see a future with you and didn't want to lead you on. This was before I met him and I understand people make mistakes. But he is not the monster you make him sound like. The time you had with him was a fraction of the years we have been together. I have been in a relationship with him since August 2013 and while he has flaws like everyone, he has grown into a wonderful, god-fearing, hardworking man. You do not know who he is. While you were in his life for a season, you cannot possible know who he is now. I'm not saying that he didn't do anything to hurt you. What I am saying is he is not the same person he was when he first started recovery. We recently moved into our first home and while we were moving one of the kids found your gameboy. The only intentions Abe had were to do a kind deed in the spirit of Christmas. In no way was he trying to be malicious or cause you pain. (Insert ex's name here) is a changed man from what you knew. I urge you as a sister in Christ to forgive as Christ forgave us. He has moved on and is happy and that's all he wishes for you. I pray you find happiness and wish you all the best. Merry Christmas.

(While viewing this message I accidentally highlighted the conversation, emojis popped up while I attempted to scroll and hit the thumbs down. I did not know how to take back, but I assume it did not go over well for I received another message.)

Wife: Obviously you aren't at a point in your life where we can handle things like mature adults. I'm sorry to have wasted your time and mine. Either way, I hope you have a good Christmas.

Me: Due to the holiday I had the intention of waiting to respond, but because I am not technologically savvy, I accidentally hit a thumbs down and it was misinterpreted. I have and had every intention of responding, but due to the holidays I request that out of respect and consideration for all involved, we each take time to spend time with our families. Merry Christmas!

(First of all, why am I of any concern to his wife? Second, why is my blog of any interest? Third, for one to assume I have not healed or endured such a painful process is quite judgemental. Determining my happiness based on your life aspirations and experiences judgemental and close-minded. Healing, happiness, and truth are dependent upon the perspective of the individual to whom it matters most, myself. Lastly, my words are not untrue because they come from a different perspective. All that I have written is based on my personal perspective and experience in the time I spent with him. I would like to think he is a changed man and I hope to God he is, but the abuse happened. He did not lay a hand on me, but physical touch is not required to meet the criteria for abuse. I continue to see him as the person he once was for I never saw who he became. Why would I? Our relationship ended and there was no reason to reconvene and share stories. Abuse is a form of trauma and it took its toll on my mentality and I admit I am still affected by those past experiences. For example, I was driven by fear, paranoia, and convinced everything had an ulterior motive and that returned in my writing of this post. It doesn't mean it is wrong. I was shown what was not to be tolerated in a relationship and for that I am thankful for I have refused to settle for less than what I deserve. I did not deserve him. I deserved much better.

I spoke to my sponsor, as one does when such an issue might arise in recovery, and saw my part. I should clarify this posting is not a form of retaliation or intended to do harm, but is a personal perspective of true events. I know what I want and how I would like this to be "fixed" assuming that it can be or needs to. However, my request to my ex is recovery based without the influence of others and should be left at that. That request cannot be guaranteed and for me to take action in an attempt to force things to be "fixed" is handing my problems to God only to snatch them back again. I pray for God's will and his timing, that should the opportunity arise I be given the words to speak that others may hear to reach resolution.