#but you'd have to be blind not to see his anger and grief because he does not hide it! it's central to his arc!

[gffa]

Have you watched the First Okiro's recent Star Wars video? He made a really interesting case about how TLJ Luke was a form of character assassination. When I saw the ask you answered about how Luke treasured Yoda and read the last paragraph, I thought maybe you'd agree.

https://youtu.be/r0I86ii2N_8?si=-oHY6dQsFBsSAfPv

Hi! Honestly, I pretty much refuse to watch any Star Wars video essays anymore because so many of them are anti-Jedi and I don't think it's fruitful for any of us for me to put myself through that, they don't gain anything, I don't gain anything, etc. So I have no idea what the case being presented in the video is, I'm only going on "character assassination" in TLJ and how I actually disagree. I mean, I think it was poorly executed in some ways, but that the basic concepts of it are ones I actually think are the best parts of the movie. My problems with TLJ's Luke story is that I think the extremity of it was too much, that him being on the island for six years without contact with anyone was too long for how I see Luke, as well as I think the structure of having Han die and not showing that deleted scene of Luke mourning his death, of having Luke interacting with Rey but making it all about Ben, none of that worked for me. But what does work for me is that the idea of overcoming pain and suffering is a one-and-done deal is just not how Star Wars or the Force works. Luke very nearly fell to the dark side in Return of the Jedi, that wasn't just put there for the aesthetics, that was something he was genuinely teetering on the edge of, he was raining hell down on Vader when slicing away at his arm, Sidious genuinely felt the anger and rage roiling inside Luke, he had to struggle to turn away from it and embrace what it meant to be a Jedi.

That's not a one time struggle--that's something characters face their entire lives. And if you include the Disney comics (which are really good imo), Luke struggles with loss and pain and anger after the defeat on Bespin, he has to struggle through not falling to the dark side again. And, hell, even MARK HAMILL says that Luke's fall down the reactor shaft on Bespin was akin to him basically trying to commit suicide because he was so devastated. So I think it's fair that Luke could struggle with that again later in his life, I think it's fair that after pouring everything of himself into building up the Jedi again, to have it torn down by someone he loved, someone that he may have bordered on attachment to (as Star Wars and the Jedi define it--love and attachment are not the same thing, attachment is the desire to hold onto something/someone so tightly because you can't live without it and thus you can't see it clearly, which I think I could believe of Luke, that he was so blinded by his desire for what he wanted for Ben that he couldn't be objective about him, just like he struggled with loving his sister so much that rage boiled inside of him when Palpatine threatened her and Luke's friends on the second Death Star), that he retreated because this felt so massive and he felt like he was the only one who could build this school and that he pulled these kids into this life. Like, it's fair that Obi-Wan struggled with Anakin's betrayal and cut himself off from using the Force on Tatooine, so I think it's fair that Luke struggled with Ben's betrayal and cut himself off from using the Force on Ahch-To--they both had to process that grief and it's not always a perfect path when it's someone you love that dearly and were so incredibly close to. Ultimately, the entire speech Luke gives is one that is DESIGNED to be knocked down, he is literally standing in front of the First Order and facing them down with his laser sword at the end of the movie, Rian Johnson literally says that it was Luke's personal failure, not the failure of the Jedi religion, and Luke finds his feet again. And that's my guy!!! The guy who makes mistakes, but is such a core of goodness and compassion and care for others that he eventually gets over these massive hurdles placed in front of him, and so that part of Luke's story worked for me. I'm just not wild about the finer details of how it was actually executed, even if I think it's fair to point out that Rian Johnson was handed a pre-existing situation that he then had to reverse engineer a backstory for with an extremely limited time to do it, because apparently THEY DIDN'T PLAN OUT THE TRILOGY AHEAD OF TIME for fucks sake.

[lewmagoo]

Leah I have a Rhett thought that I really wanna share with you but I dunno if you'll like it or not.

But.......

Rhett x wifey!reader adopting Amy as a baby after Perry left her in the Wabang General Store (Royal and Cecelia were probably rip-shit after they found out) and ever since then, Amy calls Rhett x wifey "mommy and daddy" instead of Perry.

rhett had tried to give his brother the benefit of the doubt. he'd tried to understand his grief. tried to put himself in perry's shoes. how would rhett feel, if he lost you? he couldn't fathom the thought of you not being in his life. the thought was nearly more than he could bear. he supposed he could cut perry some slack. but there was a nagging in the back of his mind. a feeling that something just wasn't right. part of him didn't trust perry. and he hated it. hated the fact that he had to question his own brother's morals. hated that it was even a possibility in his mind that perry had done something to rebecca. but it was there just the same, because he knew how perry could get. knew how terrifying he could be when he went into a blind rage. rhett had been on the receiving end of that rage many a time.

it had only gotten worse since rebecca disappeared. and now, perry was essentially a single father, with a little baby to care for. if he didn’t have his parents, and you and rhett looking out for little amy, it was almost certain that she would suffer from neglect. and that was what really angered rhett. when he looked at that little one, he was filled with only love. how could anyone disregard her existence? how could anyone neglect to give her the care she needed? it took everything in rhett to keep his mouth shut. he was tired of fighting. tired of riding perry’s ass over it, because his words always fell on deaf ears. perry was too wrapped up in his own grief to focus on his child.

but it made rhett so angry, because in the midst of it all, was you. you wanted a child of your own so badly. but your body would not allow it. no matter how many times you tried, no matter how many specialists you saw. your womb remained empty and your heart was heavy. rhett knew that you would be a wonderful mother. you would love and care for your child so deeply. so to him, it wasn’t fair that perry got to have a child that he didn’t even care for, when that was all you’d ever wanted. rhett saw the way you handled amy. you loved her like she was your own. except, she wasn’t. and the one line that you didn’t want rhett to cross was trying to take custody of that little one. “she should stay with her daddy,” you insisted. but even you could see that her daddy was not capable of being the father she needed.

but as time went on, it seemed that perry was slipping further into madness. he essentially stopped taking care of amy altogether, leaving you and cecelia to mind her. and the more time you spent watching over her, the deeper your bond with her grew. you were so attached to her, she might as well have come from your own loins. but she wasn’t yours. not truly. she was still perry’s child, and there were times when he insisted on taking her on excursions with him. you didn’t like it, but you had no choice but to allow it. you couldn’t very well bar him from seeing his own daughter. but then came the fateful day when perry left her behind in the general store in town.

you and rhett were the only ones home that day when the store owner, mrs. alban, called the house phone. you were just sitting down to eat the lunch you'd prepared after a long morning of guiding one of the animals through birthing a calf. when the phone rang, you were tempted to ignore it, but when it started ringing again just after you let it go, you groaned and stood to your feet, shuffling over to the phone and lifting it from the hook. "mrs. abbott?" she spoke. "yes. younger mrs. abbott. rhett's wife," you answered. "ah, well, i'm calling because it seems that perry left little amy all alone in my store. just walked out empty handed without a care in the world. i tried to find him but he was gone."

you turned to rhett, your eyes wide. placing a hand over the receiver, you hissed, "perry left amy all alone at the general store." he stood abruptly from his chair, sending its wooden legs scraping against the old linoleum. "what?" and that was how you found yourself in his truck, speeding toward wabang. "i can't believe he'd fuckin' do this," rhett growled, white knuckling the steering wheel. "well, i can believe it, i just don't want to." he was vibrating, rippling with rage that he kept in check, waiting to let it out at the right moment. you knew that moment would be whenever perry decided to show his face again. but for now, his only priority was to make sure amy was safe. and she was, mrs. alban had many children, and was perfectly capable of caring for the little babe in the time it took for you to get there. that didn’t stop you from running into the store and immediately taking amy out of her carrier, hugging her close to your chest.

“poor baby,” you hummed, kissing the top of her little blonde head. “i’m here, i’m right here.” you weren’t quite sure why you were moved to tears, but the emotion of the situation caught up with you, and you closed your eyes, trying to keep it together. you thanked mrs. albany, and then grabbed amy’s carrier and headed back outside, while rhett remained in the store for a minute more, asking a few questions about the situation. while you waited for him, you walked back and forth along the sidewalk, bouncing amy in your arms. she seemed entirely unbothered, in that innocent way that only babies can be. “i’m so sorry, sweet girl,” you whispered. “i’m sorry your daddy doesn’t care for you like he should. i’m sorry your momma is gone. i’m sorry…i’m sorry that i’m not your momma.” and that was what brought those repressed tears forth.

just as rhett came out of the store, you turned to him, the tears streaming down your cheeks. “this isn’t fair! i should be her momma! i would never do this to her. never! how come perry is allowed to have a child he doesn’t even care about, when all i’ve ever wanted is one of my own?!“ you wailed. those deep blue eyes you loved so much welled with his own tears, and he rushed toward you, pulling you into his arms. one of his large hands rested atop amy’s head. “i don’t know, baby. i-i don’t know.” then he pulled back, tipping your chin up. “but i do know that this ain’t gonna happen ever again. i’m not letting him put this baby in danger. we’re going to take custody of her.” before, you might’ve disagreed, might’ve told him it wasn’t right to take amy away from her father. but now, you didn’t care. something had to be done, and fast.

that decision plunged you into a drawn out production. although perry could not care for amy, he adamantly refused to allow you to take her. he went off the rails, to the point where you feared for your own safety, and rhett had to intervene to see to it that his brother didn’t hurt you. that moment in time was horrible. it scared you, and only solidified the fact that this man was not fit to be a father. the court recognized this as well, and soon, you were granted full custody of amy. that day was one of mixed emotions. but ultimately, when you went home at the end of the day, holding that little one in your arms, your little one, a sense of peace washed over you. she was not your child by blood, but in your heart of hearts, she was still yours. and she was safe, loved, and cared for by two people who wanted only what was best for her.

together, you built a life for your little family of three. you were able to take on that role of motherhood like you’d always wanted. and rhett? he relished in being a father. he protected and nurtured amy as if she was his own. although you had gone through so much to get to this point, it all felt well worth it in the end. as amy grew, so did your love for her. and you swore, along with rhett, that love was all she’d ever know. she would never experience a raised voice or a harmful hand. she would know gentleness and peace. and that was a promise you would keep for the rest of your life.

[mrsgravity]

That night

April/23 3:02

‏"Then I screamed at him and told him to break up because I was in a blind spell of anger, and then after I sat alone in my room that night I thought I'll cry as usual but I found out I had no regrets at all. I was quiet this time and discovered that I would be eternally grateful to myself for taking that step .. and this was my tragic end to my story with him"

A moment of silence passed as he focused his gaze on you, you thought he would console you or say he was sorry or something. But instead he snorted and started laughing a little bit revealing his teeth.

"Well done strong woman. Can I think this was the boldest thing you've ever done?"

You blew your mouth into disbelief "Are you making fun of me for deciding to get rid of him?"

"No" He restored himself and returned to his quiet smile. "of course I don't make fun of you. I'm just glad you left him after all these problems, I would've thought you'd die of grief with him"

You smile and manage your look from him

"Hey, you know you deserve a hundred times better than him"

"I know" you sighed and decided to ask him the same question. "What about you? Always seems to me to be the kind that has a lot of past or one-nighters relationships?"

He smiled and put his hand on the wheel. "I was, two or three .. the last one couldn't bear me for more than two years"

"No blame" you whispered sarcastically and he raised his eyebrow with ego. "At least I don't give them a chance to hurt me ten times"

"Shut up"

You played with your fingers silently, waiting to find the right justification for making your ex cheat and treat you indifferently. And all you were doing was giving him another chance and forgiving him out of love because he was your first love.

"He hurt me"

After you go silence, he put his hand on your thigh and started to squeezing it. "You started your life again long time ago and that's the important"

You smile at him and look at his eyes, which have shone through your darkest days for you. He was always here for you, little moments with him made you forget all your sorrows and problems, just simple actions from him that had much bigger meanings.

He never hesitates to meet your requests and desires. He was a conservative person, but in your presence he opened for you the doors of his heart. Always made you feel special in this world.

"Then you came"

"Tell me that I was much better than him"

"I can never deny this Trent"

He smiled again but with a confident and cocky smile, he loves when you give him the advantage in everything because he wants to win you always. Always.

He sighed and returned his hand to the wheel, asking where you wanted to go. All you've done in the last hours is drive around the city with a silent journey because he knows you like to stay long in the car and drown in your imaginations through the window.

"We can go home and sleep a little bit because it's late, you almost forget you have training tomorrow"

"I got no problem"

He run his car and get back to driving. And all you thought about at that moment was how much you accepted this man's advantages and flaws. Always in love with him and his actions in a way that's almost an obsession.

Why not and he is the first one to find in your grief before your joys?. All you wanted was for this moment to last so long to satisfy from seeing him, even a little bit because you miss him even in his presence..

Just because he's Trent. He could always win your heart more every time and this is the most beautiful era of your life with him. And it may be forever.

[x-authorship-x]

Hi🌻💜

22. “This isn’t goodbye.”

#22- "This isn't goodbye."

"Liar. You know it is."

There was nothing Shisui, for all his witticisms, could say to that.

They sat in silence for a while longer, looking down at the bustling streets below as their feet swung through the open air. If it had really been Ino's choice to be here, she'd have picked somewhere else. The communal Yamanaka gardens, probably. As it was, whatever Pein had done didn't quite align.

Eventually, Ino couldn't stomach the silence any longer. The shock had worn off, the rage and screaming, her fists beating against a chest warmed with the mimicry of life. The demand for answers, the frantic grapple for chakra she couldn't access and techniques she couldn't use to rip this illusion apart. The anger. The denial.

"It's not real," Shisui had said, soft as though that could have made it any less painful. Any less true. "But it's not fake either... not really."

A non-answer. Maybe, knowing her father and herself as well as Shisui's own skills, Ino shouldn't have expected anything less.

"A goodbye would mean we'd never see each other again," was the counter Shisui finally came up with.

Ino planted her hands on the pylon either side of her thighs and rolled her head sideways to look at her brother.

Her dead brother.

"You're telling me this is the afterlife."

Shisui pressed his lips together at that, abashed as much as amused, and his dimples carved shadows into his cheeks. He was both exactly the same and so different from how Ino had remembered him; photographs hadn't done the animation of his expression any justice, had made him look smaller when he was more of a size with her father, to say nothing of his voice and laugh. It was heartbreaking - or, if would've been, if Ino had allowed herself to linger on the thought - to realise that her memory had been so stunted. That she'd already forgotten so much.

Half her life had revolved around this boy.

Ino shook her head before he could respond, grim and stubborn in her conclusions. "It's not. If you weren't a figment of genjutsu or my own brain, then you'd tell me the truth. I don't have the answers, though, so neither do you."

Agony glinted in Shisui's dark eyes. Despite the blinding brightness of the noonday sun overhead, he wasn't even squinting.

"Ino-chan..."

Ino couldn't bear to look at him any longer but the idea of wasting these precious moments not drinking him in... Instead, a pitiful compromise with herself, she tangled their hands together and had to blink back tears at the illusionary warmth and strength in his grasp.

"If you were really my brother, you'd tell me why you died. You'd tell me the truth."

A hitched breath beside her. Another first.

Shisui had never cried in front of her, before. He'd been like that, sadness in glimmers that he was careful to shield her from. Wondering how much he'd concealed had only made the grief and guilt worse in the long term.

"But you can't."

Her voice was barely coherent now, thick with the tears that didn't fall but blurred her view of Konoha into a smear of sky and colourful checkers.

"You're not him. I won't see him again, you're here because I wanted to see you but that doesn't make it true... So, you're right. It's not goodbye. You were never here in the first place."

Her fingers were going numb from the vice grip Shisui had on her hand, clutching it between both of his and then bringing her knuckles to his forehead when she swung her hair as a curtain between them. Tears dampened her skin.

"I don't care if you don't believe me. This isn't your time, Ino, and I don't want to see you again for many years because you've got a whole life ahead. I'll see you after. But-" and, now, Shisui's voice was almost too thick to follow "-I want you to know that I never wanted to leave you. I'm so sorry, imouto, but I'm so proud of you. And, even if you don't believe me, I hope you don't doubt that. I hope you tell Sensei and your mom that I love them, that I'm watching, that I'll see them one day too."

Ino could barely breathe, it felt like she was choking on too much and too little, and then Shisui's arms were sliding around her shoulders and they were crying together, tangled. And they weren't outside any more, no longer suspended like guardians above the home that Shisui had adored, but perched on the counter of her mother's flower shop.

And, suddenly, it was all too much.

This was an unfamiliar hug, she'd been a child when her brother had died and now she was almost the same height, now she could grip him back and feel the shudder of his spine as he mourned everything beyond his reach. And it was the cruelest, most beautiful thing, to glimpse a perfect what-if and know, in your soul, that you'd never see it again.

Suddenly, Ino realised that she didn't care she was a Yamanaka, that she was training to be an Interrogator, that she was a Shinobi and supposed to look underneath the underneath, that she was never supposed to concede and blindly believe.

"You're here," Ino wailed, and it was something between heartbreak and utter relief. "Nii-san, you're here."

"It's not goodbye, Ino," Shisui agreed, even as everything started to fading, like mist slipping through Ino's arms and she couldn't hold him tight enough.

"Shisui-nii-"

"I never left you to begin with."

[vomara]

absolutely love how some of the people reblogging my post about aang’s trauma getting dismissed are the exact types of people doing the dismissing

[dorkus-mcdingus]

Could you do a fluff/crack request where the brothers ask MC if they would be friends if they had met in the human world and MC is like "absolutely fucking not". Personally, I wouldn't get along with the bros😭

Oof... That's gotta hurt but I'll give it my best shot

I Would Never be Your Friend if We Met in the Human World

Lucifer

- Completely understands

- He is aware of his rather intimidating presence

- If he met you up in the human world, he had a feeling that it would just be a simple hello and nothing more

- At least now, you and his family are on better terms because let's face it, all seven of these idiots adopted you as their younger sibling

- Though ngl, it did hurt a little but realistically, Lucifer's not exactly one to open up so easily to a stranger the first time he meets someone He's kind of that person that has to test the waters to see if he can trust someone before he feels comfortable showing his more vulnerable side.

Mammon

- The hotheaded tsuntsun tries to laugh it off but internally, he's in the corner making a hamster home

- Why wouldn't you wanna be friends with The Great Mammon?!

- But then he remembers how he introduced himself to you and how he acted towards you at the start and uh... Ehem. Let's not talk about it...

- At least nowadays his perspective really changed on you and you're someone special to him

- If you're not romantically involved with Mammon, you're his kid sibling whether you like it or not 😈

Leviathan (a bit angsty sorry 😅)

- Figures. Why would you want to hang around a disgusting otaku like him?

- All he does is sit in his room all day gaming, binging anime, and other stuff like that

- I N S E C U R E

- Okay someone please help him stop spiraling into his negative mindset because it's not gonna end well...

Satan

- Kinda gets it

- After all the last thing he wants is for you to get hurt when he gets angry

- However, even though if that scene were to happen, he'd still be just as polite much like when Lucifer introduced him to you on your first day at RAD

- Likely would meet you in a bookstore and would be more than happy to help you find a novel you're looking for

- However, Satan much prefers now. He's really gotten to know the person you are and just you being you, seeing you smile even, that's more than enough for him

Asmodeus

- Oh boy, enter the drama queen

- Definitely would be ranting that he's so pretty, and sweet, and that he has so much love to go around that he doesn't understand why you'd not like him in the first place

- News flash Asmo, a lot of humans are turned off by an ego the size of Jupiter

- If he had to pick that scenario and now, definitely now. You're the only person that saw through to him and never caved into his charms (thank you Lilith!)

- Honestly, because his powers didn't work on you it really drove him to get to know you for you and vice versa. However, please help him calm down... I don't think anyone wants to suffer through Asmo's wrath

Beelzebub

- As much as it hurt the sweet teddy bear of a demon, he completely understands

- Anyone would be absolutely intimidated beyond belief if they got a good look at this guy

- If it's not for his appearance, it's DEFINITELY his appetite or his strength

- But even if that were to come true, all he would want for you is to be happy and to be well-fed because hunger is a pain he never wants anyone to go through

- Thinking about it though, he's definitely glad that Diavolo brought you here. If you do need some consolation, he's happy to lend an ear and help you smile

Belphegor (this got really angsty)

- He REALLY gets it

- After all, you two didn't have the greatest first introduction

- He lied to you, deceived you, and then the cherry on top, blinded by his grief and anger with his sister's death, you nearly died at his hands

- If given the chance, he really wishes he could go back in time and change his actions. However, Barbatos did say that changing the past can have severe consequences on the present but at least you're alive in the present and you're well

- After all, you are the reason why he was able to let go of his grief when it came to Lilith. Not sure if you know it but you pushed him to change for the better and for him to let go of his grudge towards humans

[septembersghost]

I saw someone say that brian should've appeared to dexter in S5 after rita's murder, and it got me thinking about how I can see the draw of that concept and yet...actually disagree. rita's murder is so profoundly horrifying that dexter goes into shock. harry is silent. he doesn't appear to dex at all until he snaps and kills that guy in the bathroom, which is a response born of rage and such blinding grief that he doesn't know how to process it. he's running away (there's big foreshadowing for the original ending here, much as I disagreed with that decision at the time, the puzzle pieces of it were established), he's decided everyone is better off without him, this bloodshed is his fault and can never be rectified, and he's grappling with the fact that he loved her and never fully realized or expressed what that was. there is no vengeance for rita. trinity's already dead, and even then, in those last moments, he had the upper hand. he knew he won. there's nothing dex can do about it. it's already over. brian appearing would be rather useless because there's nowhere to channel that anger and despair. his inner representation of harry convinces him to turn around. dex says, "I thought you'd left me," because there's an internal schism. harry asserts, "they're not better off without you. you're not better off without them. you need to go back." the kids are still there. rita's funeral is happening. the point there - the purpose of the entirety of S5, really - is dex confronting his humanity, responsibility, the stages of that grief, the capacity he does have to care. saying "I love you" out loud. letting another person see him, and helping one another as they struggle through the dark.

and then here comes loss, repeating itself. rita's death, lumen's departure (which feels like a rejection, though I don't believe it's meant to be one), and the moment dexter begins to make another true connection, even a friendship, someone who understands and sees him, but found a different path and offers a shifted perspective to him, it is yet again brutally taken away. brother sam encourages him to show forgiveness and he does consider it honestly. he can't understand the level of monstrousness that would cause nick to murder the man who saved him, believed in him. he asks why. he tells him to turn himself in. it's when nick laughs in his face - so similar to trinity laughing on his table - that dexter snaps. "there's no light in you. there's no light in me." the chasm of that loss and meaninglessness is what calls brian out of the shadows. it's not that brother sam meant more than rita so much as it is cumulative, and altered circumstances. he had to deal with the human fallout for her sake. with brother sam, there's revenge to take and that rage boils over.

I haven't seen Nebraska in ten years and probably ought to save or refine these thoughts until after I watch it again, but there's a very clear line of purpose, internal confrontation, overcoming, and eventual sense of clarity that happens for him because of that resurgence of wrath and sorrow - brother sam is the chiral object to brian (that "brother" title is not incidental). he's someone who saw the blood on his hands, recognized its ruin, and turned from it to become something else. he acknowledges dexter's darkness, but believes in his potential light. brian encouraged him towards the red, unfettered violence. he wanted his dark passenger unleashed. dexter manifesting him, unchaining that piece of himself, and then purposely overcoming him is a powerful moment of self-recognition for him. that line I love - there must, by definition, be light somewhere. waiting to be found - can only dawn for him after treading into the murky depths and choosing to emerge on the other side. and that's always the battle he's fighting. is there a way to be human and feeling when you know you're a monster, when you were raised and molded into the belief that's indelible? can one's humanity survive that enormity of loss and that choice and culpability of violent destruction? can you grow your capacity for love and connection no matter how far down into the fathoms you've gone? how much does he desire and crave and even hope for a tether to more? is there reason to seek it?

michael said once years ago, "The really sad thing about Dexter, I mean, the TRAGIC thing is, it’s not really his indulgence in his compulsion that gets him into trouble. It’s his entertaining of the idea that he could have a human life. The more he does that, the more he affects and infects the people around him, and it’s heartbreaking.”

there's a quote I was discussing with a friend yesterday (who a while back brilliantly noted that dexter, at its core, is a frankenstein story, harry as the maker, dex as the result): "This is also the message of classic horror: if the monster learns appropriate restraint, it becomes an angel." the line is tenuous between the two. after all, there are many angels in the seraphim, including the angel of death.

that continual push and pull - the tides, rolling in and crashing out and on very rare occasion going still (a moment sailors call slack tide...it's a moment frozen in time, when all is calm and peaceful. the only downside to it is that it passes too quickly) - is the core of the story and that journey he's inexorably on. S5/6 get criticized a lot (imho unfairly at times, because his dynamics and growth still matter immensely within them), but I think they work really well in trying to explore that.

[raz-b-rose]

I've seen you mention Fullmetal Alchemist a few times on your blog. If you don't mind me asking, what was your first viewing experience of the series like? Did you have any favorite characters? Were there any character arcs you thought were written well? What scenes moved you the most? What do you think sets it apart from other anime series?

ok honestly, I had this all typed up...then my computer cliched and deleted it all and I had to avoid it for a few days lol. Thank you so much for your patience, I didn't forget. 

So now, here is a spoiler filled rant!

I was in the 5th grade when by bestfriend at the time introduced me to anime. Fullmetal Alchemist 2003 was one of those. Don't watch that one, only watch Brotherhood lol. They absolutely derailed Hiromu Arakawa's vision.

I found a few volumes at my local library and was hooked on reading the whole thing lol. Thats when I found out about the drastic differences around the two anime adaptations.  

Every time I re read/watch it I fall more in love with it because it's just so beautiful. She captures the essence of humanity so perfectly, the entire plot is just so beautifully written to manifest everything that makes life precious, valuable, unique, and that all of that is solely human. And that humans have limits.  

Like take her manifestations of the seven deadly sins. They are so raw and true to how those sins can manifest in humans. Like Lust, she is the exact opposite of how everyone has even personified the trait. She is not once drawn acting or posing provocative. Her honeytrap for Lust was her covered modestly, and behaving in a delicate manor, not somthing youd expect from a character named Lust. (I could do a full study on each of the homunculus if you'd like lol, I don't want to ramble about them here) 

The attention to detail she has mixing science and religious themes so effortlessly, (because they are never truly separate) is amazing. The first time I watched it, I loved the world she built, how the plot flowed so effortlessly, and every character is unique and adds depth to the story and human nature. 

As for my favorite character, that would have to be Scar 

He is just captures the power of forgiveness so well. 

His heart was over taken with nothing but recreating the destruction that ravaged his nation, family, and his own body, blinded by grief and hatred. He was so consumed by it, he targeted a child who wasn't even to blame for any of, a victim of the war himself. (great subtle nod to many politics and internal prejudice)  

It is through meeting Winry he is able to start to see the impact of his actions.

It is through Ed that he is able to see past his hatred, and see who he had become. 

It is through discovering the plot against Amestris, that he is able to put aside his pride to help innocents. 

It is through his brother he is able to find balance in himself and forgive everyone, the one thing Envy never though possible for humans. Forgiveness.

Envy tries to provoke him to anger, trying to reignite his hatred and need for revenge by pointing out everything Mustang and Hawkeye did during the war, only to be shocked by their ability to put differences aside and help each other. (something many people could stand to learn)  

Scar’s intracule point to the plot makes me cry every time. He is the most beautiful picture of humanity, the possibilities for change, and in my opinion, shows how God can move and change heart, redeeming even the most angry of people. Even people who committed vile acts disguised under the veil of good in their hatred. 

Scar learning to reconstruct his own heart, his people, and his friends nations, is the beautiful ending image to it all. How out of destruction can only bring rebirth, new growth, and change. Seriously love him so much. 

And I feel like every single character arc was so well done and completed perfectly, that nothing felt unfinished at the end. There really isn’t a character I dislike because they are all so well rounded and more than just their surface level ambitions and actions. 

What sets this series apart from other animes is how it approaches religion. You can see the harsh influence that Catholicism had on Japan through how it is written in many animes. She doesn't do that. it is written in such a subtle way, that it flows with the cultures and personalities of characters that it isn't their only personality trait. They are people with real emotions, real struggles, and really terrible things happening around them. It feels natural. 

And for my favorite moments, there are so many, but these are a few of them. 

This series will always be in my top ten, and I cant wait to start reading her other series, because this one just moves me every time, and in terms of a plot that can balance serious, funny, and moving, with no fanservice, nothing can ever compare. 

[megatraven]

👀👀👀 Tell me more of Zeus reincarnation instead of Hera (if you'd like of course!)

i would be THRILLED (and also i should mention it is an alex x mc au because of course it is)

After MC inherits Zeus' potential, it's kind of a shock to every Olympian that was in the know about MC's mother. That is- they expected the potential to pass to Josh, but it lands with MC instead.

There are little changes in her that follow, at first- she's a little easier to anger, and when she does get angry or upset, electrical appliances tend to short out if she's close enough. Static electricity tends to cling to her and she's constantly shocking other people- but it never hurts her.

Once she works at HERA (or ZEUS???? i still don't know about that one lmao), things get a little more complicated. She blacks out from time to time, and comes to either standing in front of the golden elevators, or she was at home and comes to halfway to the agency, not knowing how she got that far or why.

She hears Zeus' voice, too. For awhile it's rather quiet, and she learns to ignore it. She can only snap at the voice in her head so many times before a psych eval is issued, anyways, and she doesn't really want to even try to explain it.

Alex knows there are some odd things going on with her, but she doesn't tend to tell even them the whole of it. Alex themself thinks that the oddities are side-effects of her grief from when her mother died, because that's when it all started. They're not completely wrong, but they're off the mark too. They encourage therapy but she's been before, and it's never helped. Even in the rare moments that she does want to spill everything to someone, something stops her and stills her tongue.

Eventually, she learns what it is. Or rather, who.

The longer she's exposed to Olympus and remains in close proximity to it, the stronger Zeus seems to get, and the more he's able to wrest control of MC's body from her. She stops blacking out when it happens, because she's growing stronger, too, and she's often subject to watching Zeus try to maneuver her body.

It's terrifying! But gods dammit, she's not about to give up control to a god who's done nothing but give her problems from day one! Not to mention, she refuses to give up her life with Alex, her dream job, her best friend, her brother.... There's no way she's going to let him take any of that from her.

So she learns to fight back against him and his will to return to Olympus.

She fights against his control and her will and his are in a near-constant battle.

When it comes out to everyone else- by mistake, when she has no choice but to use Zeus' power to stave off a threat to not only Olympus, but the entire rest of the world- it gets.... a lot harder.

There are gods that vie for her attention and company in attempts to convince her to just let Zeus return, that she needs to or she's otherwise dooming the entire Pantheon, that she's being selfish and what an honor it is to be chosen by Zeus

And then there are gods that are, somewhat surprisingly, supportive of her and her struggle to remain herself.

Aphrodite, for one, cannot stand to see the child of one she held so dear to her suffer through Zeus' ire. Nor can she stand to watch her own child's heart break at the prospect of losing their love to the gods.

Hades, who loves his brother dearly but knows that this just isn't the way, and that an unwilling human should not have to face the consequences of a god reborn. He's often torn on what to do and stays out of it as much as he can, but he offers his silent support to MC regardless.

And, perhaps the most surprising of all- Hera. Their queen. Zeus' wife. Most have always turned a blind eye to her relationship with Zeus and thus are shocked when she refuses to vote against MC, when she stands beside her. She doesn't want Zeus to come back. Olympus has prospered in his absence, and on top of that, she cannot go against her very self and break MC's family apart any further. It was her ignorance that led to the death of MC's mother, and, subsequently, to MC having Zeus' potential. She refuses to let it happen again.

SO!!!! Hera decides to try helping MC on the down-low by working on a ritual that would allow MC to take on Zeus' power for herself rather than let Zeus overtake her.

And all the while, while ALL this Zeus shit is happening, MC is still working for HERA and fighting to make the world a better place for all involved and she's fighting to protect the Pantheon and to keep her relationship well and alive and to be herself. She's fighting monsters and half-titans and gods themselves and still dealing with Zeus on the side and it's hard but she doesn't have much of a choice, she just knows that she must keep going. Giving in isn't an option to her.

I'm not sure if this part will stay the same as I continue to think on the au, but at this moment I'd like to think that through all her struggling and refusal to give up and her seeking out justice- through all of it, she slowly convinces Zeus to let go instead. Through her actions and her heart, she is eventually able to show him that she is more than capable of defending those she cares about- those he cares about- on her own, and that Olympus is just fine as it is.

So maybe, he stops fighting against her at every turn. Maybe he starts helping her in moments where she really needs it. Maybe he decides that he doesn't need to return just then, and maybe he'll go back to sleep for some time. Or maybe Hera will figure out the ritual she wanted, and maybe Zeus will simply not resist and let his power finally return to Olympus while he leaves for a long while.

Whatever becomes of him, MC remains.

[scholarlypidgeot]

“You’re hurting me”

Todd half-dragged, half-carried me inside, his eyes everywhere but down to where I was half-walking, half-dangling. I tried to get his attention while I squirmed in his grasp and dug my heels in.

“You’re hurting me!”

If he heard me, he didn’t show any sign of it until we stepped back into the Embassy and the door slammed shut behind us. Even then, he more or less dropped me before stalking over to a window and peering out. There was suddenly something in his face I couldn’t remember seeing before, sharp and gaunt, with all his scars exaggerated by the other lines of concern and anger. He pulled the curtains shut just as I pulled myself to my feet.

“What were you thinking?” he demanded.

I was still too shaken to answer.

“Do you know what’s out there, Eva? Do you know what could’ve happened to you? There is a reason you’re not allowed to go outside all by yourself. Not at night. The Hunt- those people- won’t just not hurt you. They would have killed you if you weren’t careful. They could’ve killed both of us. Do you understand that? Do you understand the danger you just put us in?”

His voice had risen to echo around the mostly-empty embassy, and by the time it was a shout, it had become too much for me.

“I’m sorry!” I blurted out. I didn’t know what else to say. What can a child say when told something like that? “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m…”

I burst into tears. My arms still hurt from where he’d grabbed me. I was suddenly tired, suddenly aware of how late it was and how dark it was outside. I didn’t understand what he was saying, or what the nice lady outside was saying, or now even if she’d been a nice lady or a lady that pretended to be nice to do mean things…

He must’ve realized that he’d overstepped, because he knelt down beside me and gathered me up in his arms. He let me cry into his shoulder until there was nothing left to cry, one hand on my back, the other on the back of my head. When I finally pulled away, all of the sharpness had gone out of his face. He didn’t look angry anymore. Just tired.

“I need you to understand that you can’t do that again, Eva,” he said, quietly. “They could have taken you away. Or, worse, they could’ve hurt you. They could’ve used you to hurt me. And that wouldn’t be fair to you. Especially since you don’t know what’s going on.”

“But I want to know!” I said. “I want to do something.”

“Someday. When you’re older.” He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes and fell away again almost immediately. “If I tell you too soon you’ll get all caught up in it, and...and I might lose you.”

There was a bone-deep fear, and a premature grief, in his words.

“I care about you too much for that.”

I didn’t know back then that, real as his love might be, it could also be a very selfish love. But I did recognize how fragile he seemed when he talked about it, and I knew that, if I didn’t listen to him, he might shatter completely. There was nothing in the world I wanted less than that.

“I wouldn’t hurt you,” I tried to say.

“You are hurting me!” Todd replied, and then seemed to realize how harsh that must’ve sounded to me. “You could hurt me, Eva. You wouldn’t mean it, but- they could hurt you, and that would hurt me very much. Do you understand?”

“I-” I paused, and then leaned in to hug him back. “I understand. I’m sorry.”

---------

Intense childhood trauma? In MY novel? More likely than you think

@a-beautiful-crow @bespectacled-ghost @borgesperovago @distance-does-not-matter @irishironclad @mad-ad @ps-im-blind @redheadedbrunette @that-catholic-shinobi - if you'd like to be added to/removed from this list, please let me know!

Thank you for the ask! The list for this prompt can be found here. Feel free to send more!

[3d-wifey]

Reason for Your Smile

Pairing: Mirio x Reader

Word Count: 1,421

Warnings: Angst, spoilers for season 4

Synopsis: You comfort Mirio after the raid.

You bowed to the nurse that led you to his room. As you quickly stood back up, you hoped she didn't see how worried you were. But you weren't exactly subtle. You waited until she walked away before facing the door. The following silence in the hallway was daunting.

It was late in the evening, meaning there weren't many visitors. Just you and your nerves. A brief telling of the events had been given to the U.A. students and staff. Brief being the keyword.

Multiple heroes were wounded. And one was pronounced dead shortly after arriving to the hospital.

But, something that eluded everyone was, why? What was so important that so many heroes, and heroes-in-training, gathered and risked their lives for it? You did your internship with Mirko, so you were just as out of the loop as everyone else.

You hastily visited the others before coming here. Nejire had a few scrapes and bruises, but she was a tough girl, it was nothing she couldn't walk off. Tamaki, however, was a little worse for wear. You tried to talk to him, but the pain killers they gave him were crazy strong. You thought it best to let him sleep.

Physically, they would be fine in the long run. But, mentally, you wondered how they would fare. You wondered how Mirio would fare. Your heart had nearly taken flight when you heard he was involved.

You half expected him to poke his head through the door. He'd laugh at how easy it was to scare you and then apologize as you scolded him. But as the seconds ticked by, it became clear that he wasn't coming out and you'd have to go inside sooner or later.

You'd have to take the first step.

You slowly slid the door open. You didn't know if he was resting or not and you wouldn't want to wake him if he was.

You weren't sure what you were expecting to see.

Actually, that's a lie. You were expecting to see him in a body cast hooked up to a respirator, barely holding on.

But here he was. Hair down. Staring aimlessly out the window. Sitting on his hospital bed, bandages wrapped around both of his arms. You couldn't see his legs under the covers, but you would bet that they were bandaged too. The setting sun colored him a mix of orange and pink, like an angel.

He looked so tired.

He turned his head towards you as soon as you stepped through the door. You had been strong. Up until this point, you hadn't broken down once. Not when you heard that Mirio was in the Shie Hassaikai raid or when news of what happened to Nighteye got out.

But when your eyes met his, you couldn't hold back. The tears blurred your vision as you rushed forward.

"Oh, Y/N. I didn't think yo—" He stopped talking mid-sentence as you threw your arms around his shoulders. You didn't squeeze too hard, mindful of his injuries.

"Hey, what's with the waterworks? I hope you're not crying because of me." He said with a laugh, wrapping his arms around your middle.

Feeling his big hands on your back, supporting most of your weight, made the tears fall faster. The vibrations in his chest as he laughed. His smell. His hair tickling your nose. They were all signs that he was alive. He was still here with you. When his name was said on the news, you had feared the worse.

God, you were so selfish. You had come here to check on Mirio, yet, here you were being comforted by him.

You pulled back enough to see his face. He looked exhausted up close; the smile he wore didn't quite reach his eyes. You brought your hands up from his shoulders and placed them on either side of his face.

What had he seen?

Your thumbs rubbed soft circles onto his cheeks. You hoped that what you couldn't express in words, he could pick up through your affection. The longer you looked at him, the weaker his smile got, until the only things left behind were his watery eyes and quivering lips.

He shut his eyes and pressed his forehead to your chest. His grip on your hips tightened as his shoulders began to shake.

"Sir, he...", his voice was lower than a whisper, filled with the emotion he was trying to hold back. You had never seen him so distraught.

"I know." You brought one of your hands to the back of his head and laced your fingers in golden hair.

"My quirk...", his voices trembled as he took in a painful gasp. The information that the news had given was limited, but they definitely didn't mention anything about quirks.

Did he...lose his quirk? You had heard of it happening temporarily to Tamaki, but you doubted Mirio would be hit this hard if it was temporary.

He worked so hard to master it. He trained his entire life just to be able to use it and it was gone? Just like that?

You were speechless.

"It's my fault. If we had just taken Overhaul then and there like Midoriya had wanted, none of this would have happened," he shrunk in on himself like he was trying to hide his shame from you, "Eri would be safe, I would still have my quirk, and Sir..." He stopped and looked up at you, face contorted in grief. The look in his eyes scared you.

He looked so shattered. Devastated. There was anger in his heart. A rage, but not at you. It was directed at himself.

"I'm sorry. I– he left before I could apologize and I didn't tell him I was sorry," the beeps from the heart monitor picked up as his hands clenched the lapels of your school blazer, pulling you closer to him, "He has to know I–... God, how can someone just not be there anymore? How could anyone take another person away like that?!" His voice raised slightly, cracking with emotion.

"I–," You didn't even know how to respond. You didn't know the whole story, but it was obvious he blamed himself for what happened. You took in a shuddering breath before continuing, "I don't know."

There was a beat of silence between you. You weren't the best at offering comfort or doling out support. That was Mirio's expertise. That's what made you two such a good pair. You made up for the other's shortcomings. You opened your mouth and just let the words tumble out, in hopes that you could say something to fix this.

"I thought I had lost you. I ran out of the dorm as soon as I found out and, I'm sorry Mirio. I'm so sorry. You don't deserve this. I love you so much, you know that? Quirk or not. I'll always love you." You babbled, gathering him in your arms. You would have kept rambling if not for Mirio looking at you from under his bangs.

"You...love me?" He croaked out. Gaze focused only on you, eyes filled with vulnerability. You stared at each other, both of your faces wet with salty tears. It took you far longer than you'd like to admit to understand what he was talking about.

You said you loved him.

And you do love him. It hurts. Wanting to help him achieve his dream. Trying to put his feelings before your own. Wanting him to be happy, even when you weren't. Pretending like you weren't worried about him 24/7.

That was love, wasn't it?

"Yeah," you laughed, nodding your head "I do. My Lemillion."

The smile that covered his face was blinding. It didn't chase the shadows from his eyes, but it brought a smile to your own face. It made your body feel light and your chest warm to know your confession was able to bring him some type of happiness.

You leaned forward and brought your lips to his tear-stained cheek. You kissed him. Again. And again. And again. All over his face until you heard his bubbly laughter.

He was alive. He came back to you a little broken with pieces of himself missing, but you would be there with him. You didn't need him to say he loved you back. As long as you could hear his laughter. See his smile aimed at you.

For however long he would have you, you would be the reason he smiled.

[hughiecampbelle]

Vanish (Steve Rogers Oneshot)

Character/s: Steve

Word Count: 1,148

Tag List: @dontdowhatisayandnobodygetshurt @myriadimagines @lilyswritings @encounterthepast @writerdream22 @brithedemonspawn @lotsoffandomrecs @locke-writes @thedarkqueenofavalon @fangirlsarah16 @randomfandomimagine @amirahiddleston @diana-westmoon

A/N: 1.) I love him 2.) He looks very smexy in that gif 3.) I'm just writing for therapy I guess. It's not my best, but it's as good as its gonna get for the time being. School is killing me and idk, things have been lonely. It's frustrating and I feel stupid for both feeling all this and letting it get to me, y'know? Anyways, I quite like the storyline. I hope you like it too, and if you're feeling the same way, know that I'm always here if you wanna talk or vent or whatever you need :) Feedback is always appreciated 💜💖💜

Summary: No one understands why you did what you did except Steve

Gif Credit: @theavengers :)

FIC MASTERLIST PART ONE. / PART TWO. / PART THREE.

WANNA BE ADDED TO THE TAG LIST?

The job, the life, the take with little give, it tore you apart. Limb by limb, piece by piece, until there was nothing left to hold, to stand, to be. Nothing left. The cemeteries of others left for you to hold, to keep, to care. Flowers and rocks atop headstones. Never enough. Always demanding more. The city, the world, a cat stuck in a tree. Watching others wear their uniform with pride, with the ease and awe you could only dream of. A sense of grace, a caution with their words, an effortless way of existing. Why was it so hard for you? When had the Cape become so heavy? The flashing lights so blinding? The right thing so wrong? Slandered, overlooked, dragged through the mud. Your steps too quick, too slow, your decisions that not of a real hero, your motives questioned, your intelligence questioned, your entire fucking existence questioned.

No one could ever be proud. No one could ever say a goddamn thank you.

No wonder you turned out the way you did. Your name a joke in the media, the headlines, between the ones you called family. Up and left. Disappeared. Nothing, not even a note. As if you were never there in the first place. It was better this way. You wouldn't have to drag out your apologies, burden everyone by calling them in, or telling each of them the same story over and over again. You wouldn't be questioned, or guilted, or face any anger. Sometimes it was better to go into shock. Let the adrenaline take over. Numb their wounds, their hurt, their pain. Let them think and say what they wanted, you wouldn't be around to hear it. Abandoning your duties, your teammates, the entire world. You were at your breaking point, drowning demands, in expectations you did your best to live up to. But your best wasn't good enough. It never was. Sometimes it was better to live in ignorance, in bliss. They'd get to you eventually. Word would spread. You'd be turned into a villain. There'd be interviews, and press conferences, and a global search for the one who abandoned their post.

Let them waste their time, their breath, their effort, the same way you did.

He knew. He knew before it happened. The faraway look in your glazed eyes. The hesitation. The second thought. The flinching. He didn't know what it was, though. The tone in your voice unrecognizable, your words of someone else. You hadn't just lost those pieces of yourself, they'd been crushed, absolutely destroyed. You were giving up, caving in, believing what it was everyone was saying. And then, you were gone. A ghost. Expecting to see you as he turned a corner, catching himself wanting to call your name, ask you for advice, for help, for everything. Glancing at an empty doorway, swearing you were standing there, saying something that'd surely make him laugh. Instead there was nothing. The absence of something. The regret, the grief, the frustration at himself for not putting the pieces together. You spoke without words. Always had. A language he was still learning. Complicated, and delicate, the art of saying so much in silences, in unease and avoidance. He tried, he really did.

But he couldn't stop you. And he couldn't stop them.

Civilians like vultures, tearing your image apart. Media stars slandering you because there was no one else to stand up for you. Your good name shattered, bursting at the seams. Inside, and outside. You'd expected the push back. He hadn't. The rage, the annoyance, the name calling. Rash. Impulsive. Stupid. That's when they were being nice. Horrified you'd turn your back on them, never questioning why. This wasn't the easiest way to live, to exist. He'd thought about it a lot, but what else was there for him? Who else could he be if not a super soldier? You, though, you had options, you had wants and needs outside of a catchy alias and a photo opportunity. You were young, you had your life ahead of you. It'd be a damn shame if you let it go to waste. He fought with them as best he dould, hush their disgust, the disgrace, reminding them not too long ago they turned to you, called you one of their own, saved them more times than they were allowed to forget. Bitterness and blood on his tongue, he was tired of biting it all back. Couldn't they see they were part of the problem? They were falling into the same habits that made you want to scream?

He hoped you were happier there than you were here.

And you were. You were at ease now, at peace, choosing a path for yourself instead of following one that'd been laid out. No more secrets, no more lies, no more lives in your hands. You had one life to live, you weren't going to waste it being miserable. Going where you wanted, being who you wanted, nothing to hold you back. The urge to reach out never quite dulled, not even after all these years. You missed them more and more every day that passed. A call, a text, showing up out of nowhere. With ehat, though? An explination, an apology,ban awkward hug? Maybe too much time had passed, maybe you weren't allowed to call them your family anymore. To them, you were a stranger, but you never stopped thinking about them, keeping up with all their triumphs. Across each screen there'd be another report of the man with his shield or an iron suit saving the day. There seemed to be a new member with every report. Eventually, they forgotten all about you. The media, then, you assumed, the team, your name nothing more than a reminder that even if you played the part well, it didn't mean you were a real superhero. Let them think what they want, there was no use in changing their minds.

As far as you were concerned, you were the best of the best.

Sometimes he caught you in the faces of strangers, the acts of others, the smallest of details. He still looked for you, wondering where you were, where you'd gone, who you were now. You'd look different, of course, but maybe nothing had changed after all. Maybe he'd catch you there, like he hoped he would every time, in the doorway looking in, saying something that'd make him laugh. He still expected you next to him, across from him, in his life. If there was a way to contact you, he never pushed it. Let you come back your own way, on your own time, if you decided to ay all. That wasn't his choice to make. He'd never push you the way they did. He couldn't. You'd finally done something for yourself, he'd never do anything to ruin that freedom.

[toonformers]

Design number two, Optimus and Sentinel Prime, complete with height reference chart!

I redesigned Optimus but lets say for lore purposes, the technology for compressing Cybetronians to look humanoid has been developed even more and basically perfected.

But I wanna talk about Senti here, cuz there's some stuff to unravel here lol! So you may or may not remember (for those who don't know) when Naturae's life was destroyed, Sentinel scavenged the planet for survivors. No luck, he only came back with a seed and a note for Optimus from his lover, Shira, saying to take care of it and love it as Oppy loved her.

Sentinel wasn't very...keen to the idea of Optimus having an organic lover. However, he would help him go out with Shira and not be seen. He was willing to keep a secret, with the mentality of "This won't last long." And that mentality stuck with him, even after the news of Shira's death. Ultra Magnus' new law for all Autobots...

[Inside Fortress Maximus]

*Optimus is staring at the seed from Shira, and the note. He'd just compressed his body for the organic appearance and put on a vest with pants*

Sentinel: *slams door open* Optimus!

Optimus, surprised: Sentinel. I see you got the news.

Sentinel, angered: Yeah, I got the news. What have you done to your body? Why is everyone else supposed to do it?

Optimus: Ultra Magnus thought it would be a good way to appease the grief of others over the loss of Naturae and its people.

Sentinel, angered: Don't lie to me. I know you did this to mourn your little romance. What I don't understand is why you're making the entire planet do it!

Optimus: It's not my decision what Ultra Magnus passes as a law and you know it.

Sentinel, angered: But you very clearly influenced him. Don't deny it!

Optimus, annoyed: Fine, I won't. Happy?

Sentinel, angered: You still haven't answered why you want everyone to do this.

Optimus: ...The Naturians...they saw the world differently compared to us. Down to creation. They don't see machines or technology. They don't see sparks of energy or metal. They see life. What life is. What it can be. How it all connected. I want our culture to have that.

Sentinel, annoyed: Optimus, we are machines. We don't have reproduction or flesh or a fragile nature. We're beings who are forged. Built to last eons without a scratch. What differences us from any other machines is our sparks. That's what connects us. That's what makes us Cybertronians. The ability to have an AI so complex it's basically a soul. I for one and happy with that.

Optimus: Well, I'm not. I don't like this idea of "we're machines so we're better than everyone". Because we're not better. We have so much to learn. You especially.

Sentinel: *takes the seed away from Optimus*

Optimus: WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!

Sentinel: This is the problem. You spent way too much time around those organics. I should've separated you two as soon as I suspected your little fling.

Optimus, furious: It's not a fling, Sentinel! She was the one! Shira was the one I wanted to spend my life with! I loved her!

Sentinel, angered: You're judgment has been blinded! You didn't love her!

Optimus, furious: Oh, what do you know about love?! How could you know how it feels to have finally found the being you're going to spend the rest of you're life with, only for them to DIE and you living with the guilt FOR THE REST OF YOUR LIFE?! HOW COULD YOU POSSIBLY KNOW HOW THAT FEELS?!

Sentinel: *stares in shock and slowly gives the seed back*

Optimus: Thank you. Now please leav...Sentinel?

Sentinel, whispering: *approaches Optimus* How that feels? You mean how it feels to fall in love in the Autobot Academy? How you planned to confess your feelings after completing a mission that you were sure you were gonna succeed. Primus, with your baby brother and friend by your side, it's a guaranteed success. Then...she dies. Because the organics who lived in the planet you visited were hostile and numerous. You blame your brother for not letting you go back for her but deep down, you know. And you have to live with the fact it's all my.... *voice cracks* fault.

Optimus: Sentinel?

*Sentinel walks away silently*

[Hours later, with Ultra Magnus]

Optimus: ...and I haven't seen him after that. I thought maybe he'd gone to see you.

UM: No, I haven't seen him. It's strange. Sentinel is not usually the emotional type. I wonder where he could have gone.

Guard: *bursts through the door* Commander! An emergency! In the medbay! It's Sentinel Prime!

[At the medbay]

UM: Perceptor. What happened?

Perceptor: Sentinel Prime had locked himself in the room and repeatedly used the appearance compressor. I estimate he went in 6 times before collapsing and loosing consciousness.

UM: Primus.

Optimus, worried: Why would he do that?? Where is he?

Perceptor: He's undergoing some repairs. Unfortunately there have been some complications. Normally the compressor can be used once, twice for aesthetic purposes. More than that can damage the exoskeleton. Sentinel having gone in 6 times has caused himself severe internal injuries. Among them...his T-cog.

UM, worried: What's wrong with it?

Perceptor: It's been crushed to a scrap. And as you know, T-cogs are irreplaceable, due to its technology being mostly unknown to science. We've not yet mastered how to build replacement cogs. Unfortunately...Sentinel Prime's transformation ability...has been terminated permanently.

Optimus, shocked: No. Magnus!

UM, sad: Sentinel...

Perceptor: It seems he wanted to fully commit to the organic lifestyle. He didn't explain why. He only said "He needs this."

Optimus: I need to see him.

UM: Take us to him.

Perceptor: Very well.

[Sentinel's med room]

*Ultra Magnus and Optimus enter to see a thin Sentinel, trying on clothing. He turns and stares at his brothers*

Optimus: Sentinel! *hugs Sentinel, Ultra Magnus joins*

Sentinel: Heh. Didn't think you'd want to see me.

UM: Are you joking, you malfunction? What have you done?? Do you realize what this has done to you??

Sentinel: I know.

Optimus: Sentinel, why did you do this? You could've gone offline! Now your T-cog is gone! You'll never transform again! Why?? Why do this?

Sentinel: ...remember what I said earlier? About...the thing with...

Optimus: Yeah?

Sentinel: After that happened, I continued my studies like normally. And it's one of my biggest regrets, because I didn't take the time to mourn Elita One. I never fully recovered from the pain. Now you're going through the same thing I did. And instead of helping you during this time, I was mocking you. I shouldn't have done that. I'm sorry. And...to help you get through this, I decided to follow Ultra Magnus' rule. While taking it to a much...further extent.

Optimus, surprise: Sentinel....

Sentinel: Let's make this clear. I....dislike organics. A lot. But if you think this is what Cybertron needs to progress and what you need to feel better, I'll do it.

Optimus: Senti...come here, you idiot! *hugs* Thank you. You look great.

Sentinel: I know. *smirks*

[lesbian-deadpool]

Roses In A Storm

Part Two Of Three: One Last Mission.

Prelude | Part One | Part Two | Part Three

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Words: 4,203

Warnings: Umm... ha ha... ha. Anger, sadness, crying, grief (duh), betrayal ig, alcoholism/alcohol addiction, talk of dead bodies, threats... think that’s it...

Request: All you fuckers lol.

Summary: Sent to somewhere new. You discover something shocking.

A/N: I’m sorry?? (Just bullshitting my way through this, if I’m honest lol)

Ko-Fi

(Not my GIF)

***

"Gah!" you panted while you glanced around.

You were in some sort of house. It looked old, vintage old. But hey, at least the chair you were sitting on was somewhat comfortable.

"Well... I'm glad you finally decided to hear me out."

You yelled out in shock again, snapping your attention in front of you. And there you saw, Steven Strange.

Then you remembered why you were here in the first place.

"You wanted to talk to me about Natasha?"

"I want to talk to you about many things," he replied.

"Don't be cryptic."

He looked to the side, then back to you.

"As you know I saw fourteen-million six-hundred and five different futures..."

"Yeah, and we only won one of them. Yada. Yada. Yada. You're like a broken fucking record, with that shit," you snapped, "Get to the point."

Strange watched you for a moment, his eyes squinting slightly.

"Do you want a drink?"

"I-!" You stopped yourself from yelling. "Fine. I'll have a whisky."

"I think you've had enough. There's tea, coffee, or water. "

"Fine, coffee! It doesn't matter!" you yelled, "Now, say what you know about Natasha."

"We're not done yet."

"Enough with this cryptic shit!"

You looked down to your hand, where you were suddenly holding a steaming cup of coffee, just how you liked it.

"How in the...?" you whispered, mostly to yourself.

"Y/N." Your attention was brought back to strange. "I would love to tell you. I don't like to see you like this-"

"You don't know me."

"But still..." he said, "It's not good."

"You have no-" taking a breath, you began again, "Why am I here? What did you want to say to me?"

"I can't tell you. Or it won't happen."

"Ha!" you laughed sarcastically, "Like you'd jinx it-?" A brightness caught your eye in that moment, drawing your eyes over to it. "Is that the sun?" you asked pointing at the long window.

When had the sun risen?

"Yes, it is. Pay attention," Stephen told you, bringing your attention back to him, "Anyway, I wouldn't really put it that way. But yes. I would, "jinx it"."

"God," you breathed, shaking your head, eyes locked onto the ceiling, "This is madness."

"It does seem that way, doesn't it?"

"So, what? You wanted to talk to me? But you can't talk to me?"

"Well, not necessarily. No."

You sighted out of frustration, "So, what is it then?"

He sighed, leaning back slightly in his chair, as he rubbed two of his fingers and his thumb together.

"It's hard, for me to explain," he uttered slowly.

"Then try," you grit out. Your free hand, making a fist, while you brought up the steaming mug, for a sip. Then placing it onto the table, by your side.

"When I saw the future's," he began, "When I saw this future. I didn't just see us winning the battle. I saw all of it... until the end."

"The end of what? Time? The world? What?"

He chuckled softly. Shaking his head, he began, "No. None of that. You think that the end is us winning the battle. Defeating Thanos and his army. But it's not," Stephen paused, a far-off look overtaking him, "That was only half of the journey. We paused for a while there. To grieve-" You inhaled deeply, fighting he tears from forming in your eyes, for your lost friends. Lost love that never got the chance to bloom.

"-Regain our senses. Just breathe-"

"Breathe?!" you yell, the tears you had been trying so hard to fight off, welling up in your eyes, causing your vision to blur. "You think I've been breathing?!"

The chair you sat on scraped harshly against the floor, as you stood abruptly. Hand's balling into fists, so hard that you could see the whites of your bones through them.

"Every waking moment feels like I'm suffocating!" You did nothing to wipe away your slowly falling tears. You just continued to yell. "Everything that I did and didn't do, everything I could have done. Every. Fucking. Moment. I lost one of my best friends." You took a shuddering breath. "But, worst of all, I lost someone I loved- Love!" You corrected yourself, "With my whole heart. And I never even got the chance to be with her."

Stephen stayed quiet, sensing that there was more for you to say.

And there was.

"Because I was fucking oblivious- And fucking blind to see what was right in front of me, before. And now, because she's at the bottom of a fucking cliff," you cried, "And no one will let me go back to when she- She... y'know." You gestured around, unable to say the word you were thinking. But you knew Stephen understood you. He'd have to be a fucking idiot not too. "To get her fucking body."

You stood there. Just staring into each other's eyes. The pity in Stephen's eyes almost made you sick. Because you knew. You knew you were bearing your soul to him. Showing him everything that you had been feeling. If you were in his position, you would be filled with pity for the other person, too.

But it still made you sick.

You didn't want his pity.

You knew what you wanted. But you were smart enough to know that you were never gonna get it.

Yet... you carried on speaking. Because now that you had started, you couldn't stop.

"We had to bury an empty casket because of it. And everybody just seemed fine-! They were a-o-fucking-k with it! They were perfectly fine with leaving her body at the bottom of a cliff, to rot!" you roared out the last couple of words.

"They did that because I told them too," Stephen confessed.

You paused where you stood. Mind going blank. Just left processing his words. You had more to say. You had multiple essays worth of words, to say. And yet, you were no longer able to utter them.

Slowly. You turned your head to face him.

"You what?"

You could see the fear quickly flash through his eyes, before it disappeared, as you took a step closer to him.

He speedily made you pause with his words, again.

"I did it because her body wasn't there anymore."

"What?" you asked breathless and confused, "Where did she go?!"

"The moment that her heart made its last beat was the same moment that Barton was transported somewhere else, and the stone was in his hand. Her body vanished. She was moved to the stone."

"Wait." You raised your hands up to pause the powered man. Feeling like the air was knocked out of you. "So. So, you're telling me that she was in the stone?!"

"Yes. I am."

"How are you coming up with this bullshit?!"

"I have a very reliable source."

"Who-? I swear if you say "God" or "Jesus", or some shit, I'll throw you through the fucking window!" you yell, pointing to the long window behind you.

"No," he scoffed, with a slight 'ugh', "I'm not a man of religion."

"Then who then?"

"They don't wish to be known."

"Is it you? I bet it's just you, and you're making all of this shit up!"

"No, it's not me." He shook his head. "And none of this is made up."

Putting your palms to your forehead, you laughed, feeling like you were losing your mind, as you dropped back down into your chair.

"This is fucking insane. This is unbelievable, Strange. This shit is not possible!"

"Y/N," Stephen started, crossing one leg over the other, as he leaned forward in his seat slightly, "You worked on a team with a man who could transform into a giant green beast. Who is now both that man and giant green beast. You also worked with a man who was frozen for seventy years, a man who invented a flying suit, and a God. Then, later on, were teammates- And friends with a witch. You helped stop an alien invasion and another God. You battled against a literal mad titan. And eventually won. You have recently made friends with a man who can regrow his limbs, and have met the X-Men. Also, you are sitting here, talking to me. That, amongst many other things, I have not even mentioned," he rattled off, making you fee stupider with each and every one. Almost like the blindfold had been removed from your eyes. "Do you really think that your lost love being transported into a stone is really that crazy?"

"Well, I guess when you put it that way. Not really, no."

"So," he said slowly, leaning back, and weaving his fingers together, "As I was saying before. We have had enough time, to breathe- Or in your case, suffocate- And drink." You flipped him off for that. "Now it's time to get back to work."

You scoffed, shaking your head, "I don't do that anymore. I don't work for SHIELD. I'm not an Avenger. I'm a fucking hitman."

"I don't work for SHIELD or The Avengers either." Strange raised his hands in some sort of a shrug. "I'm just helping them."

"Yeah, well, I don't "help" people, unless they pay me now," you said, putting 'help' into air-quotes.

"Fine." Stephen nodded once. Which surprised you, at how quickly he had given in. "I know that there's no way that I could change your mind. But I'm not saying that there isn't someone who can."

"Oh, yeah?" you scoffed again, "Who's that?"

"Why don't you see for yourself."

"What-?"

And then you were gone. Again.

Falling through another one of Strange's portals.

And to your next destination.

***

You landed, this time on your back. On the nature covered ground, not on a cushioned chair. Staring up at the pale blue sky, dappled with white clouds. Instead of the vintage filled room.

You didn't think you'd ever get used to those portals.

The previous ones you had experienced were instantaneous.

This one, however?

You were falling through the portal for around twenty minutes.

"That bastard," you muttered, still star-fished upon the ground, "Making me fall for twenty minutes, just because he couldn't convince me to go back to SHIELD." You took a deep breath of fresh air, exhaling it harshly, "I think I'll kick his ass."

Sighing, you pushed yourself to your feet, brushing the dirt off of yourself.

You looked at the scenery before you. Trees, that were slowly littering the ground with their dead leaves, surrounded you. A lake with a small pier to your left.

Fuck...

You knew where you were.

Bracing yourself with another deep breath, you turned to face the place you hadn't seen int the last few months.

The lake house.

Pepper and Morgan's, home.

No longer Tony’s.

Did Strange really think that they could convince you to go back to SHIELD?

Well... maybe Morgan could. With enough begging and puppy eyes... but you didn't plan on sticking around long enough for that.

"You've been standing there for almost five minutes," pepper said, opening the door, "Strange send you?"

"Yeah. He's a bastard."

She chuckled, moving her head to the side, indicating for you to come inside. Before disappearing into the home, herself. Leaving the door open for you.

You didn't know what made you walk inside. You could have easily walked away. But you didn't. It might have been Strange and the things he said. And the things he couldn't say. Whatever it was. You just had the feeling that you had to go inside of that house. For whatever reason.

The home was the same as the day you stormed out of it. The only real difference being that a few of Morgan's toys littered the living room.

Pepper smiled at you from the kitchen, cradling a cup of coffee, as you closed the door behind you. And Morgan was nowhere to be seen.

She seemed to be handling all this, a lot better than you were.

That. Or she was really good at hiding it.

Before you could start your awkward sentence, you heard someone walking up the basement stairs. They sounded way too heavy to be Morgan's.

Was Happy here?

He could be.

But when the man arrived at the top of the stairs, with little Morgan in his arms. You were proved wrong, in thinking it was Happy.

You store at the man before you. A cold, composed look on your face. Unable to say a thing. Just letting the knowledge of this resonate in your brain.

Sensing the tense atmosphere, suddenly filling up the cabin, Pepper quickly took Morgan from his arms and left the room.

Leaving you alone with the man.

Leaving you alone with Tony.

***

"So," the man spoke, raising his arms, one f them being flesh and the other made form the same metal as the Iron Man suits, "Ya gonna give me a hug?"

That made you snap from your cold state, just watching the billionaire. Filling your body with rage.

"You fucker," you hissed, stalking closer to him. But never close enough for him to even consider touching you.

"Woah there-"

"Don't "woah there" me! I'm not a fucking horse, that needs taming!"

"I never said that you were," Tony said, raising his hands in hopes of calming you down, at least somewhat.

His hopes were for nothing.

"How fucking dare you?" you spat through your teeth, "I thought you were dead!"

Tears began to fill his eyes, guilt at not telling you he was alive, welling up in his body. It made him feel like he was drowning in it.

"You died! You were dead!"

The anger, thundering inside of you like a wildfire, quickly diminishing. Now you were only filled with sadness and betrayal. Tears, tumbling down your cheeks in salty rivers.

"You were dead!" you sobbed, walking closer to the crying man, "And I needed you!"

It was like the dam had broke.

You had cried before.

Of course, you had.

For Natasha.

For Tony.

But never like this.

Sobs. Guttural and hard, raking pain throughout your chest and abdomen at the actions. Muffled only by Tony's shoulder, tears soaking into his shirt, as you gripped onto him tightly.

He held you as you cried, looking up, trying to stop his own tears from falling in the quick succession that they were. His chest, bouncing as he held in his own sobs.

"I needed you here, Tony. And you were gone." Was muffled against his shoulder. "But you were alive all along, you bastard!"

He chuckled wetly when you hit the shoulder of his now titanium-alloy arm, when the anger spiked in you randomly before it fell again.

Tony sniffled. "I know. And I'm so sorry, Y/N." He clutched you tighter against his body. "But if it makes you feel any better, no one but Fury and Strange know about me- Other than Pep and Morgan, that is."

Your laughs sounded so close to sobs that Tony had difficulty telling the difference. But when you pulled away from his shoulder after five straight minutes of crying rivers, with a small, wet -albeit quivering- smile on your face, he knew which one it had been.

"You're a fucking asshole, have I ever told you that before?" you asked, moving a step or two away from the close proximity of his body. As you wiped away your slowly stopping tears.

"Only around a thousand times before." Tony shrugged, with a cheeky smile on his face. Both of you beyond glad that your best friends could pull a chuckle from you, even in your darkest times.

Especially in your darkest times.

"So, you gonna explain to me what the fuck happened?" you asked, "You gonna tell me why that Strange guy sent me here?"

Shit.

Strange was right.

Tony was one of the only people in the world that could convince you to go back to work.

Fuck.

Tony shook his head, causing your eyebrows to furrow.

Before you could voice your question. Tony beat you to it.

"You're way too drunk," he told you, "It's better if you're sober and have a level head- Or as level, as it can be." He gave a half-smile. "Let's get some food into you, and get you some rest. Then when you wake up, we'll talk."

Yeah, he was right.

And you knew that. No matter how much you wanted to fight him on that.

Your emotions had left you worn. So, when you weren't blinded with anger and sadness, you finally remembered how drunk you had been before Fury had "sent" you to Strange.

Lightly swaying where you stood, you nodded to Tony. You could practically feel the way the whisky was fermenting inside of you. It dawned on you that you hadn't even been able to finish the coffee, Strange had magically given you.

Yeah, probably should have finished that.

Your billionaire best friend lead you away to the kitchen, pushing you onto one of the stools by the island, as he began preparing you a sandwich.

And for the first time n a long time. You felt, at least somewhat, content.

***

The sun had far past risen by the time you flopped onto the guest bed and passed out. What felt like the next second, you awoke. Almost twenty-four hours later, at eight A.M.. Sleepily wandering into the kitchen, while rubbing at your eyes.

"Hey, there's the sleepyhead!" Tony called out with a cheesy grin, which was wiped off of his face when you ploughed into him, bringing him into a suffocating hug.

With how intoxicated, worn-down, and sleep-deprived you had been the previous day, you assumed you had dreamed that Tony was, in fact, not dead.

And fuck were you thankful when you saw him standing there, alive and well.

Gently patting your back, Tony whispered to you, "It's okay, I'm here. I'm here."

"I'm sorry," you muttered, pulling away, "I thought it was a dream."

"It's okay."

Tony pat your shoulder, gesturing for you to take the seat beside Morgan, who was just finishing up here breakfast.

You wanted to ask him why you were there- Why Strange had sent you here. 

And just generally what the entire fuck was going on.

But you knew that it wasn't the right time.

Not with the family Tony fought so hard for, in the same room.

So, it could wait.

You could eat the food, then ask him later.

After all, your stomach was rumbling for it.

"So, you ready to tell me what's going on?" you asked once you had finished eating your stack of pancakes. Thankful that Morgan was watching TV and Pepper was away taking a business call.

He sighed, placing both of his hands flat on the counter's surface, in front of you. Raising his head, looking into your eyes, he asked, "Basically?"

You said nothing. Just continued starring at him. To which Tony knew that he could continue.

"You've got to go back to work- Or at least work with everyone for a while."

"Why?"

"Well, cutting straight to the point. We can bring Natasha back. Strange hasn't told us how, but essentially that's what it is. He just can't tell us anything about it, or it won't happen. Which, if you ask me-"

"What?!"

Tony's words faded into the background noise, after he said, "we can bring Natasha back" causing you to retreat back into your mind. Before you suddenly snapped, cutting him off.

"What...?" Tony asked hesitantly.

"We can bring Natasha back?"

"Yes."

"Why didn't anyone tell me this before?!"

"We've been trying," Tony told you, "Hasn't Strange been trying to talk to you for months now?"

"Well, yes but- Why didn't Fury tell me this?! No! Instead, he had to go and, basically, send me on a wild goose chase!"

"It's Fury." He shrugged. "Technically I wasn't even allowed to tell you that. But hey, I figured it out. Strange never told me, so that's free game in my eyes."

"So, Fury doesn't even know?" you asked sceptically.

"He's probably figured it out. But no one's told him."

You sighed, slumping back into your stool. You already knew that this whole thing was going to exhaust you. Feeling it already seeping into your bones.

"Who else knows? Knows about Strange's "We're not done yet"?" you mimicked the wizard's words sarcastically, putting them in air-quotes.

He chuckled lightly. "No one. Just you, me, Fury, and Strange himself- Well, Fury's probably told Maria too, now that I think about it."

You hummed.

"So..." Tony said slowly, a knowing smirk on his face, "You gonna work with us, again?"

"Fine," you muttered, slightly grumpy that you had to do this. But you just kept reminding yourself that this was to get Natasha back. You could do this. And the fact that it made your best friend happy was just a bonus, "So. How do we get her back?"

"I don't know. We just have to do what Strange tells us."

You flung your head back in annoyance, "Oh, you've got to be fucking kidding me."

"Yeah, I know. I feel the same way." Tony rolled his eyes, thinking of the cryptic wizard. "But he did say, "we're almost at the end of the journey"."

"God, that guy is like Dumbledore," you mumbled, a smile overtaking your face when your friend began to laugh.

Things were quiet for a short while after that.

That is until Tony broke it.

"Y/N?" Tony asked slowly, gaining your attention, "I need to talk to you about something serious."

"Okay..."

The worst thing began to fill your mind. Was Tony sick? Were you about to lose your best friend just when you had gotten him back? Or was it Pepper? Morgan? Was it something to do with the mission you were now a part of? Something about Natasha-?

"They told me." Fury and Strange.

"Told you what?"

"How bad you got."

You looked away, hoping that if you didn't look at Tony then maybe you wouldn't have to talk to him about it.

But that was not the case.

This was happening.

And it was happening now.

"When was the last time you were sober?"

"I'm sober now," you pointed out, before adding quietly, but not quite enough that you would stop Tony from hearing you, "Well, mostly."

"Y/N," he said firmly. Which he had only done a handful of times with you.

"I don't know," you said, looking him straight in the eyes now, "Before your funeral probably."

"Y/N, it's been six months. You're really telling me that you've been drunk throughout them?"

"I guess I am." You shrugged, lifting your hands up as you did.

"You've got a problem, Y/N."

"I know I do," you breathed, no longer able to look at him.

"You helped me," Tony spoke, and when you finally managed to peer back up at him, you could see the grateful tears in his eyes. So fucking thankful that you had helped him with his drinking problem in the past, "Now it's my turn to help you."

"Does that mean I have to go to rehab?" you groaned.

"Yes. Here." At your questioning look, Tony continued, raising his arms, in that true Tony Stark fashion. "This will be your rehab. And Pep, Morgan and I will be here to help you every step of the way."

"Do I even need to do this?" you sighed.

"Yes," he said firmly, before his voice softened, "We're just trying to get you back on your feet. You can't really get Nat back while drunk off your ass, can you? And I know that you wouldn't want Natasha to see you like this, would you?"

Shaking your head with a contorted face at his words, you realised just how much you wanted to get better. For yourself. For Natasha. And for everyone else in your life.

You want to get better.

You just needed that push.

That manipulation tactic that Tony would no doubt use.

"C'mon, Y/N." He knew you were expecting it. That much you could tell by the smile on his face. "Do it for me."

And there it was!

"Okay, fine! But you're not allowed to use that again, for like another- Three years!"

"Okay!"

Just as you were making your way off of the stool, you hastily pulled yourself back, to tell him one last thing.

"And if this is all for nothing. If Strange is just using us to help him with something. And we never get Natasha back, at "the end of the journey"," you said sarcastically, "I'm killing him, Fury, and I'm ripping that metal arm of yours off, and beating you with it."

"Okay, that's reasonable!"

And with that, you walked from the room. Intending to sleep off your fast approaching headache. With Tony shouting after you, "It's titanium-alloy, by the way!"

Fighting off the hope of getting Natasha back. Just in case all of this was bullshit.

But none the less, even if you hated the fact that you were doing it.

You thought about the first thing you would say to Natasha.

'I love you, too.'

***

(Cross out = Couldn't tag)

Permanent Tag List: 

@imnotasuperhero, @veteranwerewolf95, @natasha-danvers, @marvelfansince08love, @higherfurther-romanova​

Roses In A Storm Tag List: 

@uglipotata72829, @enderman359

[not-from-the-absence-of-violence]

You'd break your heart to make it bigger, so why not crack your skull when the mind swells

“Something's not right about what I'm doing but I'm still doing it-- living in the worst parts, ruining myself. My inner life is a sheet of black glass.” ~Richard Siken

Moments in Leenik Geelo's life after losing his brother.

a/n: love that my first campaign star wars fic is just pure leenik geelo angst, i dedicate this one to @leenik-matagot thank u and also ur welcome <3 >:) 

content warnings for: canon typical character death and violence, suicidal thoughts, refrences to self harm, ptsd, trauma and just general grief and depression.

It’s the emptiness he doesn’t expect. When they were running out of the planet the numb shock passing into the unrelenting reality of the loss he had just suffered.

There is that night where neither him or Chartreuse say anything and it felt like his chest was going to collapse into itself. It wasn’t real, not quite yet but the grief that threatens to consume him whole had already set in. it was like a gaping open wound in his chest. Like shards of glass. Like he was dying, following Tony into an early grave.

Those days blur together but he remembers eventually when the pain wouldn’t stop, he remembers cristal clear the quiet desperate prayer he sent out to the stars he and his brother had once travelled together.

Make it stop. He begged. I will do anything to stop feeling like this someone, anyone, please make it stop, make it stop, make it-

Be careful what you wish for, they say, because eventually it did, and it left the broken being that had once been Nicky Geelo.

There was nothing, he hadn’t thought it possible before to feel nothing but it was there. He was but an empty black hole. What was he now, without his grief and pain.

Nothing matters then, when the world stops being something you experience, he stared blankly at the wall. A million thoughts hung around his head.

It was your fault. It should have been you. You have always been this useless. What are you now? What have you ever been?-

They droned on, it was like listening to static, they were there, they were his thoughts and he believed them, but there was no emotion tied to it. He wants it back, the overwhelming despair, the anger burning in his veins, the quiet background sorrow that settles into your bones.

The first time Leenik Geelo gets captured on purpose he doesn’t plan on coming out of it.

He had picked up doing jobs again because he had to, life didn’t stop even if it felt like it should, the loss of Venton was nothing on the greater galaxy, even if to Leenik it felt like the stars weren’t allowed to shine without him.

It isn’t quite like he consciously plans on getting shot, it’s just that he goes in with a half-baked plan, no plan B, no weapons and not really sure when the last time he ate was.

And sure maybe when they are marching him to the brig, blasters trained on him part of him wonders why it would be bad if they just fired.

It’s not quite wanting to die, as much as it is not seeing the point in living. As much as that the moment they truly are about to shoot him his fear finally kicks in and he feels awake for the first time in months.

How he gets out of that one he doesn’t know, it's like all the luck in the galaxy follows him when he doesn’t want it.

He stands there and picks at his suction cups absentmindedly until one starts to bleed, he stares at the blood dripping from his finger like it contains the answers to everything.

-

He isn’t prepared for the wrath that comes next, the vast nothing in his chest comes and goes but the only other thing he is made of these days seems anger.

It is directed at everything and nothing, his brother's killer, Traxx, the ceiling fan that is too loud, himself.He who couldn't help, he had insisted to take on a job they shouldn't have, he should have been the one to fall in Ventons place.

The first time he stuns himself he can almost convince himself it's an accident. He is in fact, shooting at the fan, but who is to say whether he knew that the laser would bounce of it and hit him in the chest.

There is a flash of blinding agony and then a final blissful nothing. He wakes up very soon after, with a pounding headache, dizzy and miserable.

He knows very well he should not do that again, he stares at his blaster and feels some sickening kind of fear of himself. He tries to avoid using a blaster for a while but it doesn't last long.

It's always an accident though, and usually when it happens people laugh at the guy who just got himself stunned.

That's good he thinks making people laugh.

-

Leenik Geelo doesn't know the name of the first truly innocent person that he kills.

Usually there is some sort of justification for it, in his mind at least.

At some point he is at a shoot out and he very well knows he could aim away from the civilians that have nothing to do with it.

He doesn't.

There he is met with sickening guilt, and an even worse sense of perverted glee.

He sees the disappointed face of his brother every time he closes his eyes.

The moment he is alone that afternoon he breaks down crying, falling to the floor of some ship.

What have you become Nicky?

He doesn't know. He doesn't know.  

-

It's Venton who should have lived, and so he starts dressing the part. it's easy to pass off the wig and the eye patch as simple eccentricities, people find it odd, people laugh.

Good. He thinks, it's almost better to not be taken seriously, no one seeing under the surface.

So easy some days to almost believe it's Tony who is staring back at him in the mirror. That he’s here with him at least. He doesn't know how to be himself anymore.

One day he simply forgets the eyepatch, he catches a glimpse in the mirror and panics. True awful panic, the one that causes you to stop breathing, your chest to hurt, your mind to start racing.

"I need to go get it," he chokes out.

"Jeez man, we have a job to do."

He is already running back already, his hands in fists shaking as he tries not to break into sobs in the middle of the busy street.

-

It is odd in many ways how much Venton had been to him. His brother, his work partner, his only connection to his home he had left behind.

Leenik isn’t good at planning, he isn’t very strong or agile or-

Together they were invincible and alone he’s just...him.

He isn’t sure whether he misses Rodea or his brother sometimes, tangled up together in a web of nostalgia.

There is so little that is left from the person he used to be now.

-

What exactly makes memories flood him like rivers is truly awful arbitrary, he hates it.

And like anything he hates inside himself, he fights it like a caged animal. He is holding onto the shards of himself so tightly, cutting his fingers with it, he is walking on his own broken glass.

It’s a perfectly unremarkable day on the Mynock, he struggles to open a container.

"You should work out more, Leenik."

He stares at a fixed point on the wall, he feels it, the helplessness, his brothers hand in his, he feels the way he can't pull them up because he isn't strong enough, good enough, such a failure-

"Leenik? You okay there buddy?"

Leenik snaps out of it, clearly looking at his surroundings.

"I am just self conscious about my strength alright," he says as he bats away Bacta's hand " Don't bring it up again."

Bacta looks vaguely worried but drops it, used to his odd outburst by now. Leenik goes to look outside at the stars that were supposed to be theirs.

-

Sleep and Leenik are at war. Every night is a battle.

The weeks, months even after he couldn't sleep. He couldn't without waking up to nightmares of every kind and every night he saw his brother die because of him in seemingly increasingly gruesome ways.

Not sleeping made being awake worse, made the colours sharper and the noise louder, made his already weak grasp on reality weaker. He heard Venton everywhere, knowing it wasn't him, his own head driving him mad.

The only sleep he knew was collapsing from exhaustion.

Eventually time passed and no matter how much Leenik picked at it the wound healed somewhat and sometimes he slept.

Nightmares were still common enough for him to be anxious every time bed time approached. So he read, indulged in the calming familiar anxiety repetitive formulaic fiction brought.

Sometimes he had good dreams about Venton, of beautiful summers in Rodea, about the best bounties they had brought in, soft quiet scenes of love they deserved to have.

He woke up feeling the emptiness worse those days, not being able to even look at himself in the mirror.

-

There is something so comfortable in not being him. Leenik picks up a million hobbies and drops them just as soon but dressing up he might just keep.

He’s good at it, it’s fun, most importantly for the rest of the crew, it's useful.

And if it also means that he gets to look into the mirror without having to bear his own face looking back at him, even better.

-

He falls into the same patterns over and over and over again. He can’t stop, like a derailed train, and it’s always him left to pick up the pieces of his mess.

Like pushing boulders uphill it soon starts to feel tedious, pointless, if you have to do it again every time.

He doesn’t know who he is without anymore, doesn’t know how to be whole, he doesn’t want to know.

It feels like he is a spectator in his own life as he sees himself grimly fall back into ruining his life in both small and big ways.

It’s too hard to mend it, he doesn’t know how to sow.

-

He had never thought of having children really, every day he didn't quite believe he was going to survive the week, much less enough to form a family.

The vornskr gets attached to him so quickly, it needs him, like Leenik once needed his brother.

So he names him Tony, the name feels like rubbing salt in the wound, something that is almost like comfort for him now.

I'll protect you he thinks,  even if I couldn't protect him.

-

He stares at the place where his arm used to be.

He can see it so vividly in front of him, Tony's arm a bloody mess dangling making it unable for him to pull himself up. He sees his own hand, the one he doesn't have anymore, not strong enough to pull him up either.

He stares at his arm and sits on the floor crying. The noise of the battle fading away to the background

Maybe I deserve this one.

-

Leenik Geelo has a family now, crammed into a small spaceship, full of unspoken issues and painful tension.

He holds on to it lightly, or pretends to.

The only way Leenik knows how to hold on is so tight it's suffocating, so loud it hurts, so pleading it is pathetic. He overcompensates in the other direction constantly, to the point where neither he nor the people he now loves know whether he cares about them or not.

He looks onto Tamlin who lost his mother, so small, so fragile. Now his responsibility too. Maybe he doesn't know quite yet what's to come for him, all the small ways loss cracks you. He is afraid of Tamlin in the same way he is afraid of his own true reflection. And as afraid as anyone is of his own children.

"What's the name of the kid again?" he asks and he can almost convince himself he doesn't know.

So many masks to Leenik Geelo, his name has lost meaning.

-

Everyone has a breaking point and eventually Leenik reaches his. As he falls to the floor crying, there are people there this time. To listen, to hug him, to comfort him. To share in his pain and not flinch as they see the worst parts of him. To hold his hand and pull him up as he starts the arduous climb from rock bottom.

He isn’t alone amongst the vast expanse of space anymore.

-

Time passes and loss never truly gets easier, but eventually one has to heal. Eventually he grows up and knows his brother wouldn't want this for him. More importantly he doesn't want this, not anymore.

Rebuilding yourself is a never ending process that often leads to hallways you had forgotten about, it's painful and thankless and while in it it never feels worth it. But it is, oh it is, when he is able to talk about Tony again and it doesn't feel like his throat is full of glass. When people can call him Nicky and it brings only the slightest twinge of melancholy, like pressure on a sore bruise. When he can go to Rodea again, a planet he had once thought he would never be able to bear to return.

Sometimes he still gets cut on his own shards, but this time he lets someone help mend it.

He can lay amongst the trees and for the first time lay his brother to rest in his mind.

"Goodbye Tony," he says, looking onto the millions of planets and galaxies above him, in wonder of how small he is compared to it all.

"I miss you." he says because it's true, he will never stop missing who had once felt like an infinite constant in his life.

"I hope you are well amongst the stars."

[katsukisbeatingheart]

adolebitque manet

breakups suck. and sometimes you just need to burn your ex's shit.

word count: 2573

ao3!

Ridiculous piece of crap.

You yanked the chain.

Pathetic promises.

You tore the letter.

And a long dead rose.

The stem twirled between your fingertips, and you didn't even flinch when a thorn along the spine left a gash in your index finger.

Typical.

It was however, enough for you to breathe deeply, and exhale—more over the case of everything they used to be.

Cheat.

Cheat. Cheat. Cheat. Cheat.

Liar.

Your bloody finger found the wasted tears before you did. Poetic, how they mixed and dripped over the broken pieces in front of you. A blood oath to break another blood oath.

How many years had you supported such a beguiling—bewitching feeling? All for naught, only to ruin by such a simple measure.

It wasn't simple though. It was so complicated, it was simple; and it was so simple, it was complicated.

You sneered at the contradiction of such a fact, of such a relationship.

You'd look back on this—hopefully in months time—and laugh at yourself for the dramatic wreck you came to be. Over one person.

One person, who had meant so much to you for so many years.

It had taken you weeks to even think about believing everything you saw to be true. It took another few to agonizingly collect each and every bit of each other, and begin destroying them.

You had strong encouragement from those closest to you, and they were very patient and kind with your struggling heart. Despite your best attempts to recoil, and pay for something you realized only you were probably invested in—they wouldn't let you.

Now here you were, in the middle of your apartment, ready to gather these things up and eviscerate them; but you couldn't do it alone.

The cardboard was flimsy, but it did the job. Sturdy enough to carry the weight of such useless trinkets with heavy price, you dumped and swept in each tiny, bloody bit as roughly as you could—quickly apologizing to the box, a reminder that it wasn't to blame.

You ghosted to your door, moving in a hollow effort to dispose of their evidence.

Softly cracking the door open and angling to look out into the hallway, you peered at your neighbor's doors; ears open, eyes wide for any sign of life.

Mina, Shoji, Tokoyami, Shinso, Izuku—

Your eyes flicked up.

Kirishima, Sero, and Denki are upstairs...

You had a wonderful, wonderful support system. The friends that lived in the same building, and the ones across town—but the more you sifted through your options, the more you couldn't bring yourself to bother any of them with this. No matter how small a request.

With the umpteenth sigh of the evening, your head lolled backward. Your eyes slid closed and your fingers rubbed at the ache settled in your neck. You peeked out of the corner of your eye, glancing down the right side of the hall.

There was only one more door facing opposite yours—at a diag to the fire escape window at the end of the hall, and you.

It was impulsive, and despite everything—your best option.

The two meter walk in your cement shoes felt like pouring a jar of molasses on a winter's day. Gathering courage to actually knock felt like pouring two jars of molasses on a winter's day.

It was inevitable, you decided—especially if he opened the door to step out only to find you standing there petrified in your own grief and nerves—and two gentle taps and a third slightly harsher, more desperate rap later, crimson red eyes glowered at you in annoyance.

"Oi. Do you know what fuckin' time it i—"

His abrasiveness grated to a humbling halt in the face of a wholy distraught you. He wasn't one to gossip, or even to put any stock into useless chatter of the sort; but even he knew you were keeping life together by pins and needles. And he didn't even need to have Ashido as a neighbor to know that, because he was looking at the tangled disaster right now.

Your shoulders shook, and the barely kept together bite of your lip with vacant eyes told him he needed to close his mouth and keep it that way.

He was generally coarse, brusque, and blunt—not stupid or blind.

You steeled your regard, holding a determined glint in your eye and a placating plead beneath it.

"Bakugo I need you to do me a favor."

"What is it."

"Burn this for me."

You held the box out between the two of you, handling it with a nauseating combination of disdain and care. Bakugo quickly brushed through the contents with a quickly baleful sweep of his eyes, and you were too numb to bother wondering why the hostility. It was enough you were baring such personal trinkets—yet thoroughly clichéd banalities—to someone of his caliber. You parts trusted him to suggest a certain modicum of consideration, and tiny parts trusted yourself to be too beaten down to care otherwise.

The regret at such irresolution toward your longtime neighbor and friend, ebbed away as he looked back up to you with a certain fire in his eyes. It warmed you abruptly in ways you didn't understand at all.

Bakugo jerked his head to the side, his body following along with it as he stepped aside to invite you in. You said nothing, catching your breath in a purposeful stride, ducking past his shoulder. You strode in confidently, but faltered not far from the doormat when you noticed how long it had been since you'd been there.

The lights were off, and the far wall—ceiling to floor sliding glass doors up one step, leading to a balcony looking over the other part of the city night lights—bled with the light of the moon, illuminating a living space shaped like yours, but not at all how you remembered it being from however long ago.

There were new pieces of furniture rearranged in a way that suggested the man was open to having guests—mostly Eijiro, Denki, Sero, and Mina, you figured. Matte black couch cushions, with silver finishings along the frame; a dark wooden circular dining table in front of the bar attached to the kitchen, right by the glass doors—a rather romantic placement, especially for him, you marvelled; deep brown cabinets with lighter hardwood doors, occupying the back right hand corner where the kitchen was.

You turned to glance at the potted plant and admired how generally... homey the place felt. Either Bakugo had been invaded by a homes and gardens magazine, or he had grown quite the honeyed eye.

Your admiration melted into remorse, quicker than the fondness came. You couldn't even remember how long it had been since you'd visited.

In hindsight, you immediately knew it was because you'd spent all of your time with...

I must've been a real shitty friend.

"What was that?"

His questions were coming out more as gruff statements, any inquisitiveness overrode by the demand for an answer. It almost made you smile, before, again, you remembered why you'd missed that so much.

You didn't even know you'd spoken aloud, and were too tired to avoid it now.

"I must've been terrible to you," you whispered.

You felt the air grow stale with awkward tension. Bakugo raised a hand to run through his hair, stopping at the base of his neck. He didn't know what to say.

But you did.

"I'm so sorry, Katsuki," you breathed. "I'm so sorry—I feel like I completely neglected you, and I'm only realizing this now, after I've come to you when I need something and I can't believe it's taken me this long to—to see that. You must feel so— so—"

Used. Ignored.

Cheated.

You clenched your fists, squeezing your eyes shut in suffocating reproach.

You turned to face him head on. You were going to deal with this with dignity—completely ready for the growling consequences and the scorching anger.

The thundering shouting.

Biting rejection.

Unadulterated hatred.

None of that came. Instead, Bakugo's eyes reflected with an intense sheen of pain—as if everything you left unsaid came swinging back to him in full force. Like he'd been repressing those exact accusations the entire time.

You wanted to scream. You wanted him to scream. You wanted somebody to scream.

It wasn't a scream, but his voice was indomitable enough to be.

"Let's fucking burn this thing."

Glass shattered, the dam broke, and you moaned once—exhaling a jagged breath of relief, anguish, and extreme adoration. The tears poured and you shoved them away with the palms of your hand, laughing and crying with a silent nod. Bakugo roughly pulled the box from your hands, stalking briskly toward the glass doors. He slammed them open, and you heard them rattle. You weren't afraid, though. He wasn't mad at you.

He dropped the container on the concrete floor with a harsh bang, and you didn't miss the crack of a frame breaking with a picture of you and them. You doubt he did either.

Bakugo held out his right hand—fingers down, palm up—to the box. You watched him with something in your heart, as he ignited. It was piercing, and brought back memories of special moves you worked on in high school. You'd seen him nearly blow his arm off trying to get this kind of precision, and now you'd see him on T.V., using it for hero work as if he'd been doing it since the day he was born. You remembered gushing about how amazing he was, every single time he managed to do something new.

Yes, Bakugo had used this move to best and save many people.

In an instant, flames shot straight for the box, and suddenly you were engulfed in light. Just like fireworks, the contents popped and crackled, and just like fireworks, you were completely mesmerized. The light from your little conflagration poured warmth over everything you could feel. You were positively glowing.

You bit back tears that no longer needed to be spent on the likes of them. You were the one who wasted away in the company of someone who never really cared about you.

Since then, you'd forgotten about the ones that really and truly did.

You looked to Bakugo, watching the shadows dance menacingly across his face. The ferocity, and damn near animalistic malice singed more than the fire he made did. Your eyes widened in surprise.

As if he felt you staring, he turned.

Fully.

Fully facing you with much softer eyes and an expression you knew that came from being a hero.

It was as if to say you're safe now.

You choked and let more tears fall, feeling a combination of cold and searing in light of the fire.

"Katsuki," you whispered.

For the first time in your life, you watched him hesitate. He stepped forward, looking so vulnerable as he tried to grasp for words. The space between you came to about a hand's length, and the heavy rise and fall of his chest vibrated along your skin. Bakugo's eyes clouded, and your mouth went dry with that feeling again.

"Marshmallows."

You blinked.

"...What?" You weren't sure you heard him right.

"Here," he began, taking your hand in his as he turned around and led you back inside. Bakugo didn't let go, until he set you at one of the barstools, to move past and dig through one of his upper cabinets. After a moment of shuffling, he pulled away to reveal a family sized bag of puffy white marshmallows, and a big bar of chocolate. He tossed the bag of sweets towards you, his mouth quirking into a little smirk.

The warmth you'd been feeling more and more since you'd got here exploded in your chest, and you felt it rise to your cheeks.

"And don't think I forgot—" Bakugo bent down and pulled open a bottom drawer. He fished something out that crinkled and reflected small bits of light, and smacked it on the bar countertop, right in front of you.

The childish squeal burst out before you could think.

"Cookies!"

Bakugo rolled his eyes and desperately tried to bury his bliss beneath an annoyed click of his tongue. He really missed you.

"What a fucking dork," he mumbled not-so-quietly under his breath. He could hide it all he wanted but you caught the smile in his voice anyway.

Bakugo's eyes glazed as he watched you giggle, and he—almost tentatively—grasped your hand again, uncharacteristic gentleness as he pulled you back outside.

You stared dazedly at yours in his—but mostly his—and wondered why the sudden touchiness.

In all honestly, Bakugo couldn't figure himself; but when he did pin the feeling—he might've just been scared to see you go again.

He handed you the collection of sweets, going to bring out chairs to sit on. You touched his shoulder and shook your head, grabbing a blanket you noticed stretched out along the balcony fence. You flicked it outward, laying it as close as possible to the fire—setting the chocolate, marshmallows, and cookies in the middle.

Looking up to meet his eyes, you patted the spot next to you. For the first time—in a long time—you watched Katsuki's cheeks flush. No matter how badly you wanted to be the one to do that to him, you convinced yourself that it was nothing but the cold of the night or the heat of the flames.

The boy dropped down beside you, holding out a skewer without making eye contact.

As a pair, you silently worked marshmallows onto the sticks, and held them over the fragments of your burning relationship.

"Hope we don't get poisoned or something, doing this," you broke the silence wryly, eyeing the disfigured picture frame and the horribly burnt photo inside of it.

"Not a bad way to go, really." Katsuki too, was looking at the fire, and you did your best to not linger on the implications behind that statement.

"Death by marshmallows," you tapped your chin thoughtfully, "I'll take it."

"That's not what I meant."

You looked away from your toasting sweet, and studied him with dinner-plate eyes. The curiosity and... desire, you figured, smoldered, and you were sure he stared back with intensity rivalling yours. The silence—besides the crackling of fire and melting of sour memories—pressed down on you and you were positive you could fall into him, and get lost and it would be okay—

"You're gonna burn your s'mores, dumbass," Katsuki whispered. You were sitting shoulder to shoulder. He smelled sweet.

The smile climbing its way to your face settled in under a slightly disbelieving laugh.

"Right."

Knees hugged to your chest, you drifted not too far from him, and focused on the flames.

"Hey, Katsuki?"

"Yeah?"

Inhaling with more than enough steadiness to still the ocean, you sighed, feeling more weightless than you'd felt in the last two months.

"Thank you."

With every second that burned by, you felt a sort of resolve subside and thicken—less like the cast iron chains that held you back hours and months ago, and more like a promise.

To yourself.

To him.

Bakugo Katsuki shrugged, and as he did so he moved the tiniest bit closer. His voice was quiet when he spoke.

"I'm just glad you're back."