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#i am a week late posting this my bad LOL
archivebottles · 1 year
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My piece for the @eurekazine was such a fun project to be a part of and leftover sales are open until 3/1!
[IMG ID: drawing of Edgeworth, Kay Faraday, and Ema Skye from Ace Attorney. They are standing side by side with kay punching information in on Little Thief. The background is Little Thief's window modeled after Windows 95's OS with windows of various clues from the case and games cluttering up the space. / END ID]
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I have found a beautiful perfect humble rock specimen that is light yellow with a weird dark yellowy brown lining, somewhat resembling a chunk of smoked gouda cheese... effervescent
#I am still very into trash collecting at the moment and even went out and got one of those grabby sticks for cheap and a little#bucket I can carry around and put trash in. so I am going on walks in nature a bit more (not really to enjoy nature but more to play the#very fun Real Life Hidden Object Point And Click Game that is 'hunt for bottle caps and cans' .. but eh.. whatever gets me out of the#house lol).. anyway.. some nature places near water will have cool rocks#Which I know you're not supposed to take them and I MOSTLY dont.. but every once in a while it's like... when else will I ever find a#gouda rock... I have cleaned up 4 buckets of trash today.. I have helped the environment.. mayhaps.. i could take a One Single Rocke as a#treate... ANYWAY. but yeah. I don't know the names of rocks but there's a rock that's a matte muted marigold yellow sort of#color and I call them 'cheese rock'. I'm pretty sure this one is of the 'cheese rock' species but it just has weird brown coloration#like maybe it got stained or something on one side of it. Most of the other cheese rocks have no markings. though sometimes there will be a#auburn reddish sort of hue on a corner or something.. hrmm.. curious. I also got a Beginner's Hobby rock tumbler and some supplies#so I might try polishing some of the rocks from my enormous rock collection. even though they're all street rocks I picked up from sidewalk#and stuff. I saw a video where someone put random gravel and stuff in a rock tumbler and none of them were Stunning Gems or whatver#but some still turned out cool enough that I would be pleased with the result... OUgh.. I want to post more I need to like do costumes and#sculptures and stuff and be Active On Social Media and think about my Future and Career and how it always benefits artists to keep an#active social media or etc. but I just feel so tired and bad lately. I think the summer heat waves have really exhausted me. I also have#been trying to make new friends + on a weird schedule so I've been socializing and also watching media too much. I notice I always start#to feel this kind of unsettled stress of not making any forward progress in my life if I do that for too long. like 'Okay this week I've#done nothing but meet up with two friends & watch like 10 episodes of tv and only worked on a few projects on the side.. this is HORRIBLE!'#(ppl who follow me here that I talk to on discord: this isn't about you! Im specifically just referencing being tired of introductory talks#with a new round of random strangers during my Friend Hunt. Just clarifying so it couldn't be misinterpreted as vaguepost implying that I'm#secretly bothered by talking to you or etc. lol.. anyway) . Which I know to MOST people 'I talked to a lot of friends and watched some cool#stuff!' sounds like a GOOD relaxing time but.. to me it is not ghhj.. Those are 'external' focuses on things outside myself which bothers#me if not moderated. Like.. i MUST retreat internally to work on my worldbuilding and my own thoughts and etc. at very regular intervals or#it will really start to bear on me too much. Brain Mandated Hermit Isolation lol. Just being too detached from my world and stuff for#too long feels increasingly bad. PLUS. every day I don't make tangible progress towards my goals is a day wasted that I could have been#investing in my future by working on novels/games/sculptures/actual career relevant stuff. Not even in a Capitalism way i just genuinely#enjoy Completing Tasks & feel miserable if I don't for too long. EVEN the media I'm watching I turn into A Task since I rank in a detailed#google doc list after viewing lol.. Like EW movie too boring on it's own. NEED to turn it into something I can categorize and analyze ghghj#LOVE to make things more complicated than they need to be. like YAAAY organizational tasks! yaay meticulous sorting!! BOO ''mindless fun''!
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kuroosdarling · 1 year
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going to be archiving a lot of my fics and cleaning up my masterlists later so i might make a lil tag or post to keep them safe somewhere <3 will add it to my tags soon!
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heybaetae · 7 months
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waratteiru · 1 year
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#hello#i've actually been active on twitter for the past like 5 years but lately all that website does to me is make me angry#these past few weeks have been walking down memory lane weeks and i was just reading through my tumblr and#those really are super damn good times man#and then i checked and some of my mutuals are still sparsely active here wow hello hi!!#a lot of my followed tags still have a good few posts in them too#ace attorney in particular has like the same amount of notes they did in 2015-2017?? damn#aablr you are still the best fandom community i have ever been a part of#anyway i am kind of considering going back here since my weeby self has been revived due to having to watch anime for work#but i'd need a lot of profile overhaul and also scouring for new people to follow#and clean up my following too maybe#so maybe once i have some free time#but i am heavily considering it#rly want to be actively fandoming again and the state of twitter currently just makes it not a pleasant place to escape for some fandom fun#maybe i'll start sparsely reblogging stuff before the overhaul bcs i just rly need to fill the void (sad)#i've actually been thinking of going back for a WHILE like since twitter's elon era#and literally one of the few accounts that still make me laugh on twitter is exaltiora the tumblr archivist#like the state of twitter is Literally That Bad...#and each time i see her post and laugh i always go like. Why am i not on tumblr#but anyways it's been a while since i've rambled in the tags like this and i'm starting to get carried away lol#either way#hello it's nice to see you all doing well#how do i do this again#shut up hika#ppl still do this right#i need to relearn tumblr culture LOL
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vaugarde · 2 years
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#can my mom like. please not jump to conclusions and be all weird about me#so bit of context for earlier post is that i was eating breakfast and i just woke up and my mom walked in and greeted my happily#and i just gave like a casual ''hey'' bc my mouth was full and she was like ''LOL wtf thats so rude! lets try again. hey!''#and i said hey again but tried to make it sound more chipper but failed bc im tired and she just groaned and walked into the other room#and we're supposed to go to the river today but shes trying to make plans to go today and tomorrow bc my aunt is coming today#and aunt has a tendency to try and keep people around for very late despite previousplans and my mom always goes with it#so she wants a day with just us. issue is i have to go into college tomorrow to do a meeting and i wanted to study#which. btw i told my mom abt earlier in the week saying id ask to attend virtually but she shut it down and INSISTED i go in person#and whatever plans we have dont matter so i should just go ahead and dedicate the day to schoolwork#so i remind my mom of this and suddenly shes like ''wtf. ur staying the whole day? cant you go for just the meeting and leave?''#which i didnt want to do bc the meeting is less time than the drive and she literally told me to stay the entire day#so i remind her and she gets frustrated and mad telling me i ''shouldnt limit myself and i should decide to go either today or tomorrow''#but probably should just study today bc ''well youre clearly in a bad mood for how u greeted me today so maybe you shouldnt come''#and basically ''come when youre in a better fucking mood tomorrow'' and like. well i WASNT in a bad mood i was just tired#but damn ok now i fucking am bc now youre getting mad at me for plans YOU fucking suggested i do#when i had a completely different plan at first that u tried to make out to be ridiculous#fucking hate it when she does this she also did it on vacation where she got snappy and passive aggressive and rude to me#bc she THOUGHT i was in a bad mood at the park when i wasnt. i just hadnt woken up all the day and wasnt talking#but instead of asking abt it or anything like that she got pissed and basically treated me like shit the whole day#and then when i confronted her she was just like ''ok we BOTH messed up i GUESS can we put it behind us''#it makes it hard to talk to her when theres an actual problem bc i try to communicate and she just takes it as a personal attack#so now i dont want to go out today just bc my moms being shitty and accusing me of not liking her sister (which ngl i really dont)#and yeah i dont want to stay out late when i did want to get at least one reading done today#but i had everything prepared and now i have full obligations to tomorrow bc she insisted i go ahead#and now shes acting like i did that to spite her#its so exhausting. probably gonna take like separate cars tho tbh so can leave even i f they get sucked in#and use the work as an excuse#echoed voice
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hagravenholm · 7 months
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The cold weather is nice. I miss Amoeba, I think just because I was able to go around this time of year and all the warm memories. Thanksgiving left me feeling drained. Thankful for my dad and Concha, thankful for at least the lessons learned. Thankful that all of it at least got to happen to me, even the bad parts bc I felt so much better back then, everything did.
I miss feeling that warmth of a home, I miss feeling like decorating a little place of my own was just right around the corner and I miss looking forward to that. With the company of another. Instead of dreading even the slim possibility. I miss knowing wherever it was I managed to get a place, it would be nice in an area I wanted to be in. I miss feeling like there was more hope for me to be able to find a good job in my field. It’s hard to have hope the way I’m living.
I miss my friends most of all and the times we used to share together. I miss feeling like I could plan a hangout with one of my closest friends and I had the chance to meet cool people who were nice and played all the same games as I did.
I miss feeling like valued or even just comfortable in a space of other people.
Anyways gotta go to work. I hope hope hope I can manage to fight and kill and beat the mental illness into submission for a huge work day tomorrow on finals. The executive dysfunction and brain fog and all of the shit it’s stemming from have been so awful to fight the longer the semester goes on.
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itsjustaninchident · 1 year
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I feel like an interesting prompt for Lando would be being with/meeting a girl he likes who isn’t an influencer or popular, just a regular girl who stays more private. (Me for example, a girl who lives in the middle of no where Texas, with a regular business office 9-5 job) lol
You Are in Love
Lando Norris x Interior Designer!Reader
socmed au
summary: seems like mclaren's driver is not available in the market anymore but the real question is, to whom?
warning/s: none
author's note: hello! I am so sorry for taking so long to respond to this request 😭 I didn't know how I would create this and I am still quite scared to take requests but here we are and I hope you enjoy it! A little warning I'm not very knowledgeable about America so I might have overlooked some things and I am sorry for that 😭 and also lmk~ I also chose interior designer as the career for the reader I hope you don't mind >< 🫶 Please request more!
Part 2
yourusername
Texas, USA
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liked by yourbestfriend, yoursibling, and 129 others
yourusername another tiring week but at least i get to be a passenger princess hehe :)
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yourbestfriend tell him to watch his back i CAN take you back 😏
yourusername dont worry bae im all yours 😉
yourfriend is this the london boy 🫢
yourusername well...
yourfriend when will we meet him👀
yourusername he's a little shy😆
yoursibling mom says she miss him more than u
yourusername i guess i have been replaced in the family now
landonorris
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liked by maxfewtrell, carlossainz55, and 320,478 others
landonorris another normal but lovely week
view 1,093 comments...
user1 this is so out of character of him😭
user2 fr why is this kinda lowkey of him to do though👀
user3 am i thinking what you're thinking
user4 is he yknow the d word 😭
user7 okay pack it up people he can have a life that does not concern us at all
danielricciardo 🤠
user9 what's with the emoji
maxfewtrell when will u be back here
user5 oh OH
user6 since when are you interested in architecture 🧐
user6 trying to connect shit...
user7 no you're not go get a life
user8 baes take all your delusional asses elsewhere 😭
yourusername
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liked by yoursibling, yourbestfriend, and 218 others
yourusername golf isn't as bad as i thought
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yourbestfriend am i really about to lose you to some guy who drives in circles???
yourusername nah still urs babe 😆😘
landonorris
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landonorris golf kinda day
view 305 comments...
maxfewtrell you got beaten up bad...
landonorris she was just lucky
maxfewtrell sure...
carlossainz55 i guess ill replace you as my golf buddy
user1 why are his pictures so boyfriend coded lately?
yourbestfriend that's really a nice pic i wonder who took it? 🫢
yourusername 🤐
user2 the comments from max and carlos😭 who's able to beat this man in golf😭 i need to pay my respect
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yourusername
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yourusername fun week in canada :)
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yourbestfriend I should've went with you!
yourusername definitely! 😭 It will be so much more fun with u around luv :'(
lilymhe hope to see you again !
yourusername looking forward as well! I miss u alr 🫶
lando.jpg
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liked by danielricciardo, carlossainz55, and 834 others
lando.jpg canada you were fun 😏
view 1,456 comments...
user1 DID HE JUST HARD LAUNCH?!
user2 I AM NOT SO READY FOR THIS
user3 i genuinely think he has no idea what he posted....
user4 LANDO WHO'S THAT IN THE 3RD PHOTO
danielricciardo mate I think you're not supposed to post the 3rd photo...
carlossainz55 she will definitely kill him
maxverstappen1 im here for it
maxfewtrell so much for being lowkey
this post has been deleted
lando.jpg
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liked by pierregasly, danielricciardo, and 234,598 others
lando.jpg canada you were fun 😏
view 5,405 comments...
user1 no way you're trying to gaslight us
user2 man really said nope not today
danielricciardo i saw nothing
carlossainz55 me too
maxverstappen1 me three
user3 twitter fans gonna have a field day with this 😭
to be continued...
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samkerrworshipper · 7 months
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togetherness | pt.2
part 1. | part 2. | part 3. | part 4. | part 5 |
longawaited and has been sitting in my drafts for weeks now cause i wasn’t quite sure if i liked the direction it’s gone in… but highliting different issues n stuff so i hope y’all enjoy! again i’ve edited this on my phone whilst reading from my kindle lol so not going to lie i’m aware that the editing could be shocking… there’s a few more parts sitting in my drafts so lmk if y’all want more
warnings: child exploitation, themes of sexual assault of minors, just general hurt with protective n supportive tillies
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“Now that we’ve settled that, is there anything, anything at all that you’d like to tell me that I could help you with?”
I gulped, there were about six things I could think of just off the top of my head. I was tentative though. I could feel tears starting to form in the back of my eyes as I tried to make the decision in my head.
“No judgement?”
Sam’s immediate nod in response was comforting and apparently enough to get me talking.
“It’s going to sound stupid and I don’t even know what you could do about it considering that I’m probably somewhere in the wrong with it as well.”
Sam looked like a mixture of intrigued and perplexed.
“Y/n, even if I can’t do anything about it, you look like you just need to get it off your chest, I can be that for you as well, just tell me what’s been bothering you so much.”
I sniffled and nodded at Sam, this situation was so abnormally vulnerable for me.
“You know that I was rough around the edges when I got here, I know you haven’t heard the whole story, to put it simply I went through a rough patch when I was 14 and 15, before I got here. I’d just had spine surgery, I thought that I was never going to walk again, let alone play football. I turned to a lot of things, drugs, alcohol, anything. I ran away when I was 14, I don’t remember much of it, just that when I returned home my parents had had enough and they sent me off to the AIS for Tony to train me. Anyways, I’m rambling. Somewhere along the road I sent some explicit videos, photos and texts to my ex boyfriend, graphic ones, there’s a lot of them. He’s been posting them on reddit and twitter and they haven’t gotten any attention yet but with all the media coverage and bad press I’ve had recently I’m worried they are going to be brought up and I don’t know what to do about it.”
Sam’s expression was one thing, completely deflated and shocked. She was typing furiously into her phone whilst she was listening to my story. It took a few minutes of silence for her to reply to me.
“First off I want to start off with telling you how grateful I am for you sharing that information with me, it can’t have been easy and you are incredibly brave for telling me. I’ve got some follow up questions that I need to ask, you don’t have to answer them, I’d just appreciate it if you could try your best, okay?”
I nodded quickly in reply to Sam.
“Okay. How old were you when you sent these videos and how old was your boyfriend at the time?”
“I was 14 or 15, he was in his mid twenties.”
“So that puts him in his late 20s or early 30s right now, if my maths is correct. Did you take these photos and videos or did someone else?”
“I took most of them but he took some.”
Sam nodded at me again.
“Okay based on that question I can tell you that this ex boyfriend of yours is legally in possession of child pornography, that’s an indictable crime. If you want this to well and truly stop then we can go up that path. I want us to talk about this with Tony, it’s ultimately your decision but I think it would be very sensible to take this up with him at the very least. Y/n, you have done absolutely nothing wrong, I need to stress to you how important it is that you understand that. No one is going to blame this on you, because it isn’t your fault, you are a victim of a crime. That isn’t something light. I promise you that I have your best interests in concern when I’m telling you this. I have to ask, have you talked to anyone else about this? Your family? A therapist? A friend? Leah?”
Leah Williamson, my arsenal team captain and my best friend/mom/girlfriend. I shook my head at Sam, I’d wanted to tell Leah, she was the only person I probably trusted enough to tell but I hadn’t seen her in weeks.
“Do you want to talk to someone about it?”
“I was going to talk to Lee about it, eventually. Just with her ACL and us being in different places it didn’t make much sense, plus this stuff is so fucking stupid I didn’t want to bother anyone with it, I’m sorry for bothering you with it, Ellie was right I’m being fucking selfish.”
Sam’s face was unreadable, it was clear she was pretty deep in thought. She sat across from me for a few minutes, in thought, before she stood up and walked around the table, sitting herself down beside me.
“Can I give you a hug?”
I nodded and relaxed a little bit as I felt Sam’s arm snake its way across my shoulders, inevitably bringing me closer to her and into her chest.
“Williamson would want you to tell her, she’ll probably be mad that you didn’t tell her earlier. You are not being a bother to anyone, you have human emotions and this situation you are in is a hard one. You aren't being selfish, you are asking for help, which is a very human thing and you very clearly need it right now, there is nothing wrong with that. Now, how about I call Williamson for you, I’ll see you if you can get down here? I’m going to call Tony down here, I’ll brief him and he’ll help, okay?”
“I don’t want to tell Tony, he’s going to be mad and he’ll probably tell me this kind of behaviour isn’t wanted on his team and then I’ll get sent home.”
I could feel the material of Sam’s jumper that she must have thrown on after training soaking up my tears, that was embarrassing.
“I know you don’t want to, and I can promise you that Tony is going to be nothing but supportive, you’ve done nothing wrong. There is nothing illegal about what you did, now or then. Tony is not going to send you home, I promise. Now, do I need to call Williamson or can you do it?”
Realistically I probably could have, but I really didn’t want to.
“Can you?”
Sam nodded at me immediately, which comforted me a little bit.
“I wouldn’t have offered it if I couldn’t. She should be in Sydney right now to watch the Lionesses play tomorrow night, yeah? I’ll talk to her and we’ll see what we can work out for you. I don’t have her number though, so can you call her on your phone and I’ll talk to her.”
I nodded quickly, shakingly pulling my phone out of my pocket and pushing it out onto the table. I very quickly pulled Leah's contact, I’d called her last night so it wasn’t hard to find. She was the only person in the world that I could talk to when I was at my lowest, the only person who actually cared about me. So last night, whilst I was mid panic attack, on Ellie's and I’s ensuite floor I called her and she’d talked me through it. I should have told her then, it probably would have saved me this whole interaction with Sam, but I hadn’t wanted to worry her anymore, so I blamed it on pressure of being selected to start this week and she’d accepted my answer.
We’d been texting most of the morning, her asking me if I’d gotten sleep and if I was feeling alright, I’d answered shortly with an array of 'yes', because I didn’t want to worry her anymore. I passed the phone over to Sam once I found her phone number and she clicked the call button before pressing the phone up to her ear and standing up from her seat, starting to pace between the seats.
“Hey Leah, this is Sam, Sam Kerr, from the Matildas. Look, I’m here at our Sydney training facility with Y/n, we’ve just had a pretty serious conversation with her about some problems that she’s had recently and I was wondering if you were around so you could be here for her.”
Sam pulled out her own phone again as I assumed she listened to Leah’s response. It amazed me as to how fast her fingers danced across her own screen, it was a different kind of multi tasking.
“Yup, Mmm. Alright, I’ll send you the address, it’s not far from you guys hotel from recollection. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate you being able to do this for her, I’ll see you soon and we can talk about it then.”
I gulped as Sam said her farewells and then hung up the phone before walking back over to me.
“She’s coming down, should be here in fifteen or so. She sounded worried about you, mentioned something about you having a panic attack to her on the phone last night and that she was concerned about you. I’ve texted Tony, he’s finishing up with Ellie and then he’s going to be down here. I’m going to get Steph to meet Leah downstairs when she gets here and she’ll bring her up, Y/n, we’re all here to support you however you need, alright?”
Me and Sam stayed silent in the room until about ten minutes later there was a distinct knock against the door.
“Sam, it’s me, unlock the door.”
Steph’s voice was pretty distinct, even through the heavy door. Sam stood up almost immediately, walking to the door and unlocking it before a grumpy looking Steph and a flustered version of Leah made their way through the doorway before Sam had the opportunity to relock it. Leah’s eyes went straight to my own, her whole facial expression was very controlled, she could command an entire room with that face, I knew from experience.
“Are you okay?”
Her words were directed at me, and only me. I pressed my tongue against my front teeth and lip, trying to decide how to answer the question.
“There’s some stuff that’s been happening that I haven’t told you, I’m not in trouble, or at least that’s what Sam is telling me. It’s some stuff from my past, when I was a kid. Explicit images and photos, on the internet, from when I was a kid. They popped up a few weeks ago, starting when I was in Spain with you before we came here. I didn’t bring it up because I thought I was at fault for it as much as the person who has possession of them. Sam told me that it isn’t, that I’ve done nothing wrong. I’m sorry, I know it was fucking stupid and I should have told you about it or not done it, I don’t even remember taking any of the photos or videos, it just happened and now I don’t know what to do because I don’t want it getting out to the public and I just, I don’t know how to deal with it.”
Leah’s face relaxed a little bit as I progressively talked and rambled. Once I was done she walked over to my spot, seated on one of the chairs and wrapped her arms around me.
“Hey, it’s alright, we’re going to sort this out. She’s right, you didn’t do anything wrong and you should have told me earlier but I am so grateful that you are telling me now, yeah? You are so brave kiddo, that’s child exploitation and whoever has possession of those materials is the one who’s in the wrong, okay?”
I nodded into Leah, Steph and Sam were whispering between each other behind us.
“You have to take legal action though.”
Those words made me feel like I’d been stabbed and my guts had been ripped out of my body cavity.
Leah let go of me very gently and pursed her lips.
“Because this isn’t going to go away if you don’t, and I know that you are strong but you aren’t going to be able to live if you know that this person who has possession of these materials is still out there. You’ve been checked out for weeks now, since before Mallorca. You aren’t going to check back into your life until this goes, I know it. I need you checked in, I need you to be my girl, not the skeleton of your own body that you inhabit as a coping mechanism when something bad happens.”
I think Leah would have said more if it wasn’t for the incessant knocking against the door that came again. Sam was the one who went to the door again, letting Tony in. He looked flustered as well, and a little bit worried. I’d known the man since I was 15, he’d seen me in some pretty interesting situations. Sam intercepted him before he could say anything, pulling him aside and giving him what I assumed to be the rundown of the last hour.
“I don’t think I can handle this getting out, it will, if I take legal action this is going to get out and then I’m going to be Y/n Y/l/n, the Matilda’s exploitative rookie and I’ll never be back here. My career will be over, Jonas won’t want me back, everything I've worked for will be done.”
Leah took a deep breath before wrapping her arms around me and working her hands through my scalp and hair.
“If you take legal action you will be supported, I’ll make sure of it. We are a part of a community of women that uplift us for everything you do, this won’t be any different. There will be some who judge, there is always going to be someone there to judge you. Y/n, you need to do this for your sanity, I won’t lose you to your mental health again, not like last year. Kerr has done the right thing here, bringing this up, it shows me that she cares a lot more about you then you think, it also shows me that she knows what’s best for this team and you. She wouldn’t be doing this if she didn’t think this was the best course of action.”
I nodded into Leah, trying to convince myself that her words were correct. Eventually, after Sam had given Tony the full rundown he sat down across from me, exactly where Sam had been beforehand. Sam and Steph both stood behind me and Leah, Sam’s arms resting gently on my shoulders, it was grounding.
“Sam’s told me about what’s happening. First of all I want to say how sorry I am that you are going through this, it’s not something that anyone should have to deal with, ever. Second of all I want to let you know that this team, this whole nation is in support of you. Look, it’s too late for me to take any action now. I’m going to get the police to come down tomorrow morning, you aren’t in trouble. I just think that they are going to have a better understanding of this situation than any of us could. They’ll come down, we’ll have a talk about all of this, they’ll ask the questions they need to. We don’t need to make any decisions now, we’ll talk to them, Sam and I will be there to advocate for you. After that we can make decisions about taking legal action and whatnot. Otherwise I just wanted to tell you genuinely, from the bottom of my heart how much we all care about you and value you here, we are all going to be here for whatever you need in the future, you are a valued part of this team and family and we are all here to look out for your needs, okay?”
I gulped, I could feel fresh tears springing to my eyes again. I was petrified of the police, to say the least, but Tony’s voice was so reassuring. He was the father that I’d never had and when I was 15 and he’d met me I’d been in a bad place, I’d needed him to be that figure in my life and he had been. He gave me a routine, gave me something to wake up for every morning. I probably wouldn’t be alive if it wasn’t for Tony. He’d given me a chance when no one else had been prepared to and for that I would always be in debt to him for.
“Okay, I’ll get in contact with the police, we’ll get a constable down tomorrow morning and we can have an open conversation with them about it, you are not in trouble, nothing is going to happen that will end in consequences for you. I think though that you need to head back to the hotel and get some proper sleep, your body needs it. So head back, don’t worry about any of this, because I’m going to sort it out and we’ll talk about it in the morning with a clean slate and mindset, alright?”
I nodded at Tony, I didn’t really have much to say.
“Thank you Coach.”
He nodded at me, before standing up and walking around to the other side of the octoval table and giving me a pat on the back.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, don’t worry about this anymore, it’s going to be okay. Get back to the hotel, we’ve got an early wakeup tomorrow.”
I nodded at Coach, watching as he left the room just as quickly as he’d entered it.
“I’ve talked to Steph, her and I are rooming together so we’ll switch, she’ll stay with Ellie and you can come and room in with me, I think we’ll keep it that way for the rest of the tournament.”
I looked over at Sam, nodding along with what she was saying. Leah reached her arms around me, a big bear hug.
“And I am here, I expect you to check in with me, at least twice a day. When you guys head off to Melbourne or Brisbane I’m not going to be able to be there, so I need you to stay in contact with me, okay? Anybody does so much as look at you wrong I want to be the first to know, okay?”
I nodded at Leah, half in fear, half in adoration. She was the only person in the world that I actually trusted in. Our bond had been forced, when I’d moved to London to play for Arsenal I’d been moved into the spare room in her apartment and in a very short amount of time we’d created a bond that extended beyond the realm of friendship. I loved her, she was the first person besides Tony to give me a chance and he was obligated to give me on, Leah had chosen to fight for me and to stick by my side even when it wasn’t easy, she was a good person, better than I was sure I’d ever be.
“We’ll drop you back to your hotel on our way home Williamson, it’s the least we could do considering you got here so quickly, can you just give us five minutes to grab our things from the locker room?”
Sam’s voice held no room for argument, she was insisting on giving Leah a ride home and Leah didn’t try to object.
“Please, call me Leah and if it’s no trouble I would really appreciate it. I can meet you guys down in the foyer in about five, I need to go to the loo, so whilst I’m doing that how about you guys go and get your stuff together?”
Sam, Steph and I all walked back down to the change rooms in a comfortable silence. It was when we actually made it back to the rooms that I realised I still had my boots on, the cleats that were spotless from not even getting any wear at training. The cleats that a few hours ago had seemed impossible to tie up. I made quick business of pulling them off of my feet, throwing them into my kit bag and pulling out the pair of Nike dunks that I’d worn in earlier when we’d all come down here for our match analysis. Sam and Steph both made quick work off slipping out of their training kits and changing into sweat pant duos that matched with me. After they’d gotten changed and refreshed we all grabbed our bags and whatever other things we had lying around before making our way down to the foyer.
Leah was waiting for us, tapping her foot violently against the marble floors. When she spotted the three of us out of the corner of her eye her stress ceased almost immediately. I’d learnt a lot about Leah in the amount of time I’d known her. One thing about England’s captain was that she was not as fearless as everyone credited her as being, she put on a brave face, a bloody good one, but she was just as human as everyone else and sometimes it showed, especially when she felt uncomfortable in a situation or she didn’t think she deserved to be where she was. I’d moved in with her initially just before she'd led the Lionesses to their victory at the euro’s, and at the time Leah had been a basket case to be nice. I think that was how we’d bonded, through our similar insecurities of not being good enough to fill the shoes that had been passed down to us.
“C’mon cap, let’s get going.”
Leah smiled at me and nodded. We’d been keeping our relationship under wraps for a few months now. Neither of us were insecure in our situation and we were happy to enjoy our private, happy and blessed life together. Plus we hadn’t really seen much of each other in the past month or so, being caught up with our obligations to our national teams. Leah was also very committed to her rehab and I couldn’t be there for every step of that so we’d spent some time apart. We’d both agreed when the new Arsenal season rolled around that we’d tell the team, but still keep it under wraps from the public for as long as we could. Neither of us were worried about the public finding out, I was out, had been since I was 14. Leah wasn’t officially but she’d also never dated a man and in the eyes of the female soccer world that pretty much means you're gay. It would come out when it did and we were prepared for that to happen.
We walked out to Steph’s car, piling all of our bags in the boot before Sam and Steph slid into the passenger and drivers seats whilst Leah and I both took seats in the backseat. Somewhere along in the drive her hand made its way to my own, resting gently on top of my knee cap. I interlocked our fingers and smiled up at her, this was the part of a secret relationship that I liked, getting moments just between the two of you that only the two of you understood. The sweet nothings. I felt my heart plummet a little bit as we arrived out the front of Leah’s hotel and I realised that I was going to have to say goodbye, potentially for a few more weeks. That was the suckish part of being a professional athlete messing around with another professional athlete, there wasn’t always a timeline on when you’d see each other next, sometimes it was just situational.
I made the call to walk Leah to the door of the hotel, when we got to the doors I gave her a hug, a big, long hug. She hugged me back, tightly. Leah was good at hugs. When we finally had to come apart I looked up at her, with my big green eyes and apparently she couldn’t resist because she reached down and honoured me with a peck. It was nothing more, a small gesture but to me it was everything.
“I love you okay, be safe, text me, call me. I am always here for you, don’t keep me in the dark on things that you think are going to burden me, they aren’t, call your therapist, please.”
I nodded at Leah, she was using her captain's voice with me that she knew I couldn’t refuse.
“When you get back to the hotel I expect you to eat some proper food, not of those bloody granola bars that you insist are nutritional, proper food. Hydrate, at least a litre of water. Sleep, you deserve to sleep, let yourself sleep. Call me in the morning and tell me how you are feeling, okay?”
I gulped and nodded at Leah, an action that I was becoming aware I might have done too much of tonight.
“Love you too, thank you for being here for me.”
“Anytime, I’m only ever one call away, now go home.”
I gave Leah one final look before walking back to the car, closing the door behind me only to be bombarded with googly eyes from the two co captains sitting in the front of the car.
“You and Williamson?”
Sam’s voice was the first one to break the sound barrier, it scared me a little bit.
“Yeah.”
I made it sound like it was a non fact, like every person on the planet knew that I was in the bed sheets of the Lionesses Captain.
“Fuck, I knew it, McCabe owes me fifty quid.”
Steph’s voice was steadier and surprised me a little bit.
“We all had bets, how long have you guys been together?”
“We’ve been dating for 6 or 8 months, fucking around with each other since I joined Arsenal so about a year or so.”
Steph’s eyebrows rose to the top of her forrid, obviously very surprised by my answer.
“You're trying to tell me that you and Lee have just casually been hiding a relationship behind closed doors for months.”
“I mean we’re roommates, it wasn’t that hard to hide, plus we just aren’t rabbits who need to fuck on every surface unlike Sam and fucking Kristie, I’m never going to be able to mentally burn the image of you two getting at it on the pool table after the olympics, that was fucking traumatic.”
Sam’s face had flushed, we constantly brought it up with her. After our bronze loss to the US in the olympics a lot of the team had gone out in celebration with the Americans, what I hadn’t expected to find that night when I’d walked into the room that I thought was the bathroom was Sam eating her secret girlfriend out on the table. It had messed with my brain permanently.
“Hey you're the one who’s always bringing it up, maybe you were secretly into it, secret fantasy between you and Williamson.”
I loudly gagged from my spot in the backseat, extremely displeased by Sam’s imaginative imagery.
“Nobody thinks that Sam, it’s just you and all of your lost brain cells.”
There was something so comfortable about the dynamic between Sam and Steph, something so sisterly and bonded. They were like family, they messed around with each other and pushed each other but they loved each other and the both of them knew that at the end of the day. They might not have been the closest on the team, they weren’t each other's best friends but they were family and that was all that mattered.
“Whatever you say Stephy.”
353 notes · View notes
hugmekenobi · 5 months
Text
Return to the Light
A Bad Batch Post S2 Oneshot
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Gif by @spacemagicandlaserswords
Hunter x femaleJedi!reader
Summary: Being separated from one another had taken it's toll and the search had been hard but in all the darkness, a glimmer of hope remains
Warnings: Mentioned canon-typical violence, swearing, my made-up timeline, limited use of y/n, some choice interrogation techniques, sad flashbacks, mentions/descriptions of torture, mentions of death, mentions/descriptions of injury and sickness, reader is not in the greatest of headspaces and takes it out on Lyra, talks of self-sabotage/sacrifice and self-loathing, my interpretation of all things Force, dodgy Star Wars medical techniques, slight manipulation/miscommunication, kissing, overall a pretty angsty time but there's some fluff sprinkled in
Masterlist for S1 and S2
Word Count: 18.2K (don't look at me, idk what happened lol)
Rating: 18+
Author's note: Huge shoutout and thanks to my friend @burningfieldof-clover who supported and provided many helpful tips as I struggled though this!! And its finally here! I am so sorry it took so long but I hope you all enjoy it despite the wait! I have another one planned to follow that hopefully will not take as long haha so I'm excited to get to work on that too! Also praying that by posting this, I can manifest a S3 trailer haha
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Nelvaan
Ever since the disaster of Ord Mantell and from the second they’d managed to flee; Hunter had been doing everything he could to find you and Omega again. He’d tormented himself with the various possibilities of what could be happening to the two of you. Every day he’d been apart from you both had seen him fighting with himself. Possible informants and Imperial soldiers he could cope with just fine, what had been proving to be a struggle was fighting the complete hopelessness that had overwhelmed him as the weeks dragged on with no sign or information on the whereabouts of either of you. Every failed lead had left the bitter taste of disappointment and there were times when he felt like he would be crushed by the weight each defeat brought.
Things had started to shift however when they came across the various wanted posters and holoimages of you that were strewn across the galaxy, particularly in the Outer Rim. So, when Echo had decided to do some work on his own and went back to working with his contacts within the Empire and reported back that you hadn’t actually been taken, he’d felt that flicker of hope he hadn’t been able to find for a long time and the plan changed. Echo would continue to utilise his allies in the search for Omega whilst he and Wrecker looked for you. Once Hunter had you back, the four of you would reconvene and find Omega.
To get to Omega, they needed your skills and… and Hunter just needed you but there were moments in the early stages of the search where it seemed impossible. Knowing you were out on your own helped with finding his way out of the darkness but knowing you were alive and finding you alive were very different things, the latter was proving to be incredibly challenging.
You may had stopped hiding what you were, but you were remarkably good at making an impression somewhere but still finding a way to go unseen. Every location they’d gone to, they’d been too late, and you appeared to have moved on. You never stuck around anywhere for too long and it was making things a lot harder.
The most recent trail of half-baked information he and Wrecker had followed had led them to this pawn shop- ‘Hidden Gems’. According to rumour, you’d been in asking about them, yet another piece of knowledge that only added to his frustration that they always seemed to miss you by a matter of weeks. Hunter opened the door, but the owner’s back was still turned to them as they pashed the threshold.
Kedrin heard the bell clang as the door opened and shut. “I’ll be with you in a flash.” He said as he finished writing up the recent sales. He closed the book and turned around with a salesman smile on his face, but that and his words of welcome instantly died on his lips as he saw who had walked in.
Immediately upon seeing these men, Kedrin was reminded of a description given to him a while ago by the Jedi everyone had been talking about and he did not want them here. He did not want to deal with this anymore. “Ah, well actually gentlemen, I was just closing up for the afternoon. You’ll have to come back.” He said, wringing his hands nervously as the bigger one split off and began wandering the shop whilst the one with the bandana stayed where he was.
Hunter leaned his back against the door and lazily played with his vibroblade. He knew by the beads of sweat on the owner’s brow and the anxious pounding of his heart that they were in the right place. “Where is she?” He asked, his voice low and hostile as he turned the sign from open to closed, his eyes never leaving the owner.
Kedrin retreated to behind the counter. “I um…” His throat was as dry as sand and he swallowed to get some moisture back so he could speak properly. “I don’t know who-” He cleared his throat again. “Who you are referring to. Perhaps-”
“There’s not point in lying to him. If I can tell you are, he definitely can.”
Kedrin’s eyes darted to the bigger one who had offered the advice, but he had to bring his attention back to the tattooed soldier who was staring at him with such cold and dark eyes that fear creeped up his spine, making his hair stand on end and goosebumps rise on his flesh.
“Where is she?” Hunter asked again as he pushed off the door and steadily walked towards the man.
“I’m- I’m afraid I don’t- don’t have the answer you seek.” Kedrin stuttered. As the soldier drew closer, Kedrin reached under the table and grabbed the blaster he kept concealed there. But, as he lifted it out, in the blink of an eye, the weapon was shot out of his hand and his head was smacked down and being pressed harshly into the countertop- a strong hand on the back of his neck reducing his struggles to break free to be no more than a pitiful effort. His resistance ceased altogether when he felt the sharp tip of a blade being pushed into the back of his hand and he cried out in discomfort as the metal broke the skin and blood began to spill from the cut but there would be no respite for him.
“Try again.” Hunter hissed as he brought his head down to the man’s level.
But all Kedrin could do was whimper in pain.
“She was here. We know she was here. Where did she go?” Hunter growled into his ear, applying more pressure to the point of the blade, ignoring the agonised yelp.
“I don’t know!” Kedrin protested in distress, his voice slightly muffled as his lips touched the cold material of the counter. He hated this part of the job, it wasn’t his fault he had access to other ports of information, it just worked out that way and for the most part he hadn’t gotten into too much bother. But ever since that Jedi woman had come to him with her threats, he’d vowed to himself that he would turn over a new leaf. He’d leave this element of his work behind, and he wouldn’t just be a pushover to whatever or whoever came in demanding his extra services. He felt the hand leave the back of his neck. He uneasily straightened up and tenderly analysed his injury on his hand but was grateful to see that it had felt and looked worse than it was. He took out a handkerchief from the lapel of his jacket and wrapped it up before he tidied his hair in an attempt to regain some calm and control over the situation. “Now, I ask that you leave this instance before I call the proper authorities.” He demanded, but he couldn’t shake the quiver in his speech which removed any forcefulness. He walked around the counter and gestured to the door.
Hunter ignored his requested. He simply took a step back and nodded sharply to Wrecker who cracked his knuckles and neck in intimidation.
Well, he could always start next week. “Wait wait wait! I actually might have something!” Kedrin back peddled fearfully as the larger one stalked towards him and grabbed him by the lapels of his jacket, raising him to his tiptoes. “My brother runs our partner pawn shop on Christophsis and he’s said there’s been Jedi activity there. Apparently, it’s been going on for a while now. Could be who you’re looking for?”
Wrecker glanced back at Hunter who signalled to him to drop the man.
Hunter silently turned on his heels and led the way out of the shop and back to the Marauder. He’d been powerless for far too long and had failed one too many times but that wasn’t going to happen anymore.
This time they weren’t going to miss you.
--
Christophsis
When the hour had finally got late enough, you grabbed your blaster and sheathed your vibroblade and made the final adjustments to your armour before you sneakily opened your door to dark and empty main room of the run-down apartment. You pulled your hood and mask up as you stepped out and headed for the exit.
You got as far as activating the panel for the door to open before the lights turned on.
“You’re going out again.”
You closed the door and huffed out an irritated breath. You swivelled on your heels to see Lyra standing in the doorway of her room. You tugged down your mask. “Yeah… and?”
“And I thought after the last time, you were going to take some time and-”
“You know I can’t do that.” You interrupted icily.
“You’ve barely recovered. I just think-”
“I’ve recovered enough.”
“It’s just one more night. If not for your sake, then do it for mine… please.”
“We’ve already settled here for you, didn’t we?” You retorted.
“After I begged you too! If it were up to you, we’d still be living on that hellhole of a ship and never staying anywhere for more than two weeks! And I don’t know if what we have right now is all that better!”
“I gave you an out months ago! Back on Ord Mantell and again on Corellia! You didn’t have to follow me!” You snapped angrily.
Lyra scoffed. “Corellia was when you finally deemed it fit to fill me in on the whole story after I saw you choke the life out of a man without laying a hand on him. I had known something was off in the weeks since Ord Mantell and then Corellia told me you needed someone. Forgive me if I wanted to stick around to try to help you!”
“I don’t need saving.” You said tightly. “And anyway, he got what was coming to him.” You said utterly uncaring with a simple shrug of your shoulders. “Now, can I go now? Are you done scolding me?”
Lyra looked at you imploringly. “Don’t you see what this is doing to you? You’re losing who you are and it’s-”
You couldn’t listen to the speech again. “I’m not doing this with you again, Lyra. Just go back to bed and I’ll be back later.”
Lyra looked at you in disbelief. “Later? Last time you said that I didn’t see you for three weeks and you came back tortured and half-dead! You’re no good to them if you die in the process of finding them!”
You just shook your head and lifted your mask and turned to open the door again.
“I can’t watch you kill yourself for this anymore.” Lyra said quietly to your back, her words laced with pity and sadness.
“Then don’t look.” With that, you stepped outside into the night.
--
Kirion stepped into the small kitchen in the back of his shop and sifted through the second cupboard. Instinct meant he didn’t need the light and he found what he was looking for.
“Trouble sleeping?”
Kirion yelped and dropped his mug. It smashed to the ground but that was not his concern anymore. The dark outline by the window was. “I don’t want any trouble.” His voice trembling.
“Do you know what they say about people who can’t sleep at night, Kirion?” You asked as you hopped off the counter, the yellow hue of the streetlights coming through the window illuminating your figure.
“N- no.”
“Plagued by a guilty conscience. The crushing weight of knowing you’re not doing enough, or you’ve gone too far can get to you. Or say, being a pawn shop owner intent on ripping everyone off for that extra bit of profit.”
Kirion cleared his throat nervously. He didn’t know how you knew that, but you’d gathered quite the reputation in the time you’d lived here, and he didn’t want you around. “Why are you here then?” He asked shakily. “Guilty conscience too?”
You laughed humourlessly. “You get the pleasure of my company because you have something for me.” Somewhere deep down, you had a different answer, but you wouldn’t allow yourself to bring that to the surface. It would get you nowhere.
“I don’t. I swear I-”
“Oh, this’ll go a lot better if you don’t lie to me.” You said, your voice hardening. You patted him roughly on the shoulder as you stepped past him.
“I don’t know if I have the information you’re looking for.”
“You know who I am?” You flicked the light on and waltzed into the storefront filled with clear glass cases with various pawned off items. Heirlooms, artifacts, jewellery, random items- all seemed to have a place here, whether they were genuine or not. You beckoned him to come in.
“It’s um kind of hard not to.” He wringed his hands anxiously as he followed you in and signalled to the front of the store. He took that opportunity to press the button under the table by the credit register.
You followed his stare and chuckled as you saw the backs of the posters in the front window. “I can sign one for you later.” You started scanning variety of items he possessed. “Quite the business you’ve got here.”
“Keeps-” He swallowed nervously. “Keeps the credits coming in.”
“Shame a lot of it is all garbage.” You smashed your elbow against one of the glass panels. “Anakin Skywalker’s lightsaber?” You snickered as you picked up the item and sure enough, you got nothing from it. “Please. Nothing here but a bunch of dressed up metal material and a design anyone with access to an old holonet could copy. Then again, you probably knew that, but it doesn’t stop you underpaying for it and then charging a steep fee for the poor sucker that falls for it.”
Kirion gulped as he watched you continue your assault on his store.
You shattered a few more glass panes with claims of ‘Jedi artifacts’ in them. “Some of this is just embarrassing. You actual convince people that this stuff is worth the price?”
“What do you want?” Kirion interjected swiftly as he saw you getting ready to break another one.
You paused your movement and angled yourself to face him. You mimed applause. “That’s the right question. See, you gave yourself away earlier, Kirion. I’d expect you to know who I am, but to know that I’m after information? You had no way of knowing that, not officially and it’s the fact that you do know, that makes you of use to me.”
“Of use?” Kirion repeated fretfully.
You stalked closer to the desk register, the broken glass crunching beneath your feet. “You run this place in a back alley and get everyone from all walks of life coming in here pawning off their shit that you then rip off, but I really don’t give a fuck about that. What I do give a fuck about is that you hear things. People will tell you their stories, the things they’ve seen and overheard in the streets or on their travels. You are a fountain of knowledge of the underground happenings in this galaxy. Or, at the very least, you know people that run in the circles that have what I’m searching for.
“I-”
You placed a finger on his lips to shush him. “Here’s how this will work: So long as you don’t lie to me, and you don’t call the Empire, I won’t hurt you and you get to keep your life. Are we clear?” You removed your finger.
“C-crystal.” Kirion stuttered, very much regretting what he’d done in the beginning of this meeting.
“Good.” You released a short breath. “Now, I’m looking for a group of clones. They don’t look like the ones you may come across these days, rare as that seems to be now. One wears a red bandana and has a tattoo on the left-side of his face. Looks like this.” You pointed to the white insignia on your top. “But it’s black. The other is tall and bald with a scar on his left temple and he’s blind in his left eye. Heard of anyone like that?”
“I don’t know. No one like that’s come here.” Kirion shifted his feet awkwardly.
You tossed your head back in aggravation. “I really don’t have time for this.” You summoned the Force and lifted him against the wall and started to compress his airway. “I told you; I don’t like liars.” You gave him a pitying stare as he couldn’t help but clutch desperately at his throat. “Wanna try again?” You relaxed your hold slightly to give him the chance to speak.
“Okay- they- they- could be- be- coming here.” He gasped.
“They’re coming here?” You double checked as you eased your grip and let him get his feet back on the ground.
Kirion panted as he felt the invisible hold around his neck loosen. “Yes, my other store got a visit from some men that match what you’re saying. The manager there told them there was a Jedi here and called me earlier to let me know they might pass this way. That’s all I know, please, get out!”
You narrowed your eyes at him because despite his now honest words, you could tell he was getting anxious, and it wasn’t all because of you now. It was then that you heard the familiar pounding footsteps grow closer and halt outside the front door. You released an exasperated sigh and tutted. “Kirion… I thought we had an understanding.”
“No- wait! I-”
You called on the Force and snapped his neck before he had a chance to finish his plea and a second later, you heard the door crash open.
“You’re-”
“Under arrest?” You finished as you watched Kirion’s limp body slide to the floor. You heaved a sigh and turned to face the squad of ten stormtroopers that were lining the rows and blocking the path between you and the door.
“Get-”
“On my knees? Place my hands behind my head?” You interrupted, boredom evident in your tone as you crossed your arms and leaned against the till counter.
The troopers faltered slightly at your blatant dismissiveness of them.
You pretended to look confused for a moment. “Now, I can never keep track of where the Empire is in that whole phasing out thing so I always gotta ask this- any of you got a CT number?” You straightened up and hovered your hand over your blaster. “It’s always much simpler when none of you do.”
“Last chance, Jedi!” One of them called out as they readjusted their stances.
You scoffed and rolled your eyes. “Yeah… you all say the same thing.”
--
You quietly walked into your place and pulled your hood and mask down, ignoring the sting of pain as the material caught on the cuts on the bridge of your nose and your lip. You ran your tongue along your mouth and could still taste the harsh metallic taste of blood as it continued to ooze from the wound. Your nose was also still bleeding so you turned on the dim kitchen light to find something to stop it.
“Thought you’d be outta here by now.” You commented cooly without looking up as you heard her door open, and the soft padding of footsteps walk towards you. You fished out a cloth and ran it under some cold water and wiped away the congealed blood on your face before you held it to your nose.
“We don’t have a ship anymore, remember?” Lyra reminded you as she sat by the small kitchen table.
You’d forgotten about that. After the two of you had found this place, you’d sold it to someone who claimed to have word from Hunter. Unfortunately, that had turned out to be a rather bad deal and it was your first experience of dealing with the Imperials stationed here. “There are transports.”
Lyra just shook her head at you. “You still don’t get it.”
“Don’t really see what there is to get. Just hop on the next ship outta here, I won’t stop you.”
“I care about you, dumbass. Whatever is happening to you, I can’t just leave you alone in it.” Lyra replied wearily. Part of her wanted to, she’d even started packing a bag this time, but after these months spent with you and especially after what you went through recently told her you were one step away from a full-on breakdown and whether you would admit it or not, you still needed someone.
You ground out a sigh and stared down at the floor. She kept doing this. She kept having that faith in you that you couldn’t see but you didn’t deserve it. She should leave, she’d be better off without you but you didn’t have it in you to give her that final push. So, you worked on freezing her out, pushing her away until she realised you weren’t good for her or anyone else. But she refused, she was still here with you, and you couldn’t fathom why.
“Did you get what you were looking for?” Lyra asked, deliberately avoiding asking the state of the people that had clearly got in your way tonight. She’d seen what you were capable of but found that living in as much ignorance as she could saved her a lot of trouble. That and reminding herself you were not yourself right now.
“Yup.” You rinsed out the cloth and got ready to move into your room.
“I need to check your stitches. You weren’t ready for a fight yet.”
You knew what she would find if she looked. “No, you don’t.”
“(Y/N), let me see.” Lyra caught your arm as you went to move past her.
You huffed out another irritated breath but took your armour off before you lifted your first layer over your head. “Knock yourself out.”
She pushed up your vest top. “Yeah, you ripped a few open.” Lyra winced as she saw the lines of blood secreting from the sore and irritated looking now open wounds on your back.
“It’s fine.” You said dismissively. The pain wasn’t bothering you. You needed to come up with a plan of how to know when they got here.
“It’s not. Sit down.” She insisted as she went for the medkit. She had gotten well-acquainted with the item over the months, the most recent incident in particular had really tested her skills.
You released a resigned sigh and sat across from her and let her start cleaning them and closing them up again.
“They’re coming here, Lyra.” You found yourself whispering into the silence.
Lyra paused her process. “You’ve been told that before. The same thing happened on Cermau a couple months ago and it didn’t pan out. You-”
“I know what happened on Cermau. This isn’t like that.” You said defensively. It had to be different. You thought to yourself. You weren’t sure how many more dead ends you could take.
Lyra finished up the last few stitches. “You can’t know that.”
As soon as you felt her complete that last stitch, you stood. “Yes, I can.” You grabbed your armour and strode had over to your room without another word and shut the door.
You braced your hands against it and took a few deep breaths. You did have a way you could do but it had been so long since you’d gone near it, and you didn’t know if you could cope with the failure it might bring.
--
You settled in the middle of your crappy bed, the mattress sinking to the bedframe beneath as you shifted around to attempt to find some level of comfort. When you had found what you figured would be the ‘best’ spot, you crossed your legs and placed your hands on your knees.
You inhaled slowly, deeply, blocking out all the distractions of your mind and the sounds of the late-night life outside, and closed your eyes. You reached into the Force but what met you wasn’t any familiar signature. It was scenes and voices that you had tried so hard to forget.
Flashes of the people you’d hurt… you’d killed.
All that happened to you a week ago.
Tech hanging below the rail car.
Plan 99.
Omega, unconscious and injured on the ground.
Such an exquisite creature.
The torture he made you go through... and enjoyed.
His words to Hunter- To lose one of your own, it must weigh heavily on you as their leader.
Omega being carried off.
Hemlock letting you and Hunter have one last goodbye before you were taken away.
I love you.
No, it was too much. You couldn’t do it. Your breathing was shaky as you tore yourself out. You wiped the cold sweat from your palms. “Come on, get it together.” You told yourself as you took a long calming breath. You needed to do this right.
You centred yourself and went again. Except this time, all you could see was a vast space of darkness. No light, no hope, only darkness. Was this to be your fate? To be tormented by the fact you had let yourself fall and there was nothing left for you. How could you find them in this? You had no light left in you to give.
Spark.
You felt yourself twitch in discomfort. You knew that voice. That name. Only one person ever called you that.
Spark, you’re still not focused.
Let go of your anger. You’re not as lost as you view yourself to be.
No, no it couldn’t be. How could it be? No, this wasn’t right. You pulled yourself out and you looked around your room in a blind panic as you fought to get your distressed breathing back under control.
But it was only you in there. How could you hear him? It had to be some trick your mind was playing on you. Payback for all you’d done.
You exhaled heavily and braced your hands behind your neck as you looked to the ceiling. You stood and paced the confined space, shaking your hands as if you could shake away the bad feeling sitting on your chest.
You sat back on the bed and rolled your shoulders as you found your focus again. Faint rays of sun now came through the cracks in your window along with the sound of rain pattering against the fractured glass, but the new time meant nothing to you.
You didn’t care how long it would take; you were going to find them.
--
Hunter and Wrecker walked out of the ship and departed the bay to enter the streets of Christophsis- the rain sliding down their armour as they moved between the crowds.
“Well, we’re in the right place.” Wrecker commented as he nudged Hunter in the direction of the first holoscreen that had your image appear and a quick look at the immediate buildings followed that theme since they all had multiple paper posters in their windows and on their doors.
Hunter swallowed tightly as he saw holographic picture of you. There’d been one too many ‘right places’ in his search for you. He wasn’t going to accept that philosophy until he had something more than a wanted sign for you. “Come on. We’ll start with Kendrin’s brother.”
--
“So, you’re saying you saw a figure head in that direction after the disturbance last night?” A trooper pointed in said direction as she questioned the current resident on her list whilst the rest of her squad proceeded to clear the pawnshop.
“This looks like her handiwork, Sarge.” Wrecker uttered from the corner of the street they were observing from as he studied the scene ahead. Squads of troopers had cornered off the street and where questioning the civilians that appeared to live in the neighbourhood. And being carried out on stretchers were the dead bodies of troopers, but not all had blaster burns on their armour.
Hunter nodded his agreement and felt his heart beat that little bit faster with the flutter of hope. “Come on, we can’t stay here too long.” He directed as he and Wrecker turned away from the pawnshop.
As Hunter began to track your movements based on what he’d heard the trooper say, this finally being the right location was starting to feel a lot more plausible now.
--
There it was! You saw that faint glimmer of light in all the dark. It had to be them! You could feel it!
You jumped from your bed and grabbed your top and armour, hastily putting them on as you opened your door and bolted for the exit.
--
The weather had taken a turn for the worst, but you barely registered the pouring rain as you left the building. Your clothes were already soaked but it didn’t matter, you were too focused on holding onto that feeling of them.
“You’re the Jedi everyone is searching for.”
You whipped out your blaster and turned in the direction of the voice.
“No, wait! I don’t mean you any harm!” She came out from behind the skip with her hands in the air. “My name is-”
“Don’t tell me.” You interrupted sharply as you studied the Twilek before you. “How’d you find me?” You asked coldly. You didn’t lower your blaster either.
“It wasn’t easy. I’ve been following you since I knew of your arrival here. I thought I’d lost you when you disappeared for those three weeks.”
The fact you hadn’t sensed her presence at all told you that you were not what you used to be. You never used to be so sloppy. “I can’t have you knowing where I am.” You rested your hand over the trigger.
“Wait!” She reached a hand out to you. “I haven’t told anyone, and I won’t. I just need your help!”
“My help?” You repeated. “I can’t help you and I’ve got somewhere to be so-”
“Please.” She begged. “My sister, she’s sick and we barely have enough credits to feed ourselves, let alone get medicine.”
“Not my problem, I’m sorry.” Satisfied though that she wasn’t a true threat, you put your blaster away and got ready to leave.
“It wasn’t my sister’s problem that she got caught in a blaster fight and her wound got infected! No one asks for that!”
That made you pause. You’d had your fair share of shootouts in this place but you’d also you’re your best to minimise the damage to outsiders. “Where was the fight?” You found yourself asking quietly.
“About a month ago by the old shipyard on the outskirts of the city. We’d been told we could find some cheap transport off world, but something went down with the Imperials stationed there and my sister… I didn’t tug her down fast enough. I didn’t know what to do and then I heard of the Jedi that had landed in Christophsis and I knew I had to find you.”
A month ago… but that was where and when you’d gone to sell the ship… where’d you’d first been ambushed by the Imperials… no, there wasn’t meant to be anyone else there. Maybe you could… no, you didn’t have the time. Your aim was always good, it wouldn’t have been your shot that hit her. “I can’t.” You said dismissively, but there was a fading sense of conviction in your voice. Some part of you wanted to do the right thing by her. But it wasn’t enough to stop you pushing past her.
“I thought Jedi helped people!”
You stopped in your tracks and made a noise of resigned frustration as you turned around to face the young Twilek. “Wait here.”
You hastily ran back into your building, silently entered, and grabbed a few spare medical supplies from your kit before you ran back out to meet her again. “Alright, show me.”
--
Your place looked like a luxurious penthouse compared to where this young twilek and her sister were staying. It was virtually a single room with cracks in the walls and ceiling and there was a distinct damp aroma in the air. It was no wonder that they wanted to leave this place.
You then saw the smaller and younger twilek lying on a small mattress in the middle of the floor. There were drops of sweat dotted across her brow and she was shivering uncontrollably.
You’d never wanted anyone innocent to be affected by what you were doing yet it had happened with Lyra and now this child. “I’m sorry.” You whispered to her as you kneeled down beside her. You saw the bloodstain on her clothing and delicately lifted the end of her shirt to see the wound on her hip being covered by nothing more than a ripped piece of a shirt.  
“Can you help her?”
You half- turned to face the sister who was looking on fretfully. “I can clean the wound and reclose it. After that, it’ll be down to her. But the fact that she’d held on for so long is a good sign. She’s strong, she should be okay.”
The sister sighed in relief.
You brought out the supplies and recleaned and applied to bacta before you re-dressed the wound. “Do you have water?” You asked.
The sister nodded and dashed over to grab a cannister. She passed it to you.
“Lift her head.” You instructed gently.
She murmured words of comfort to her sister as she propped up her head.
As tenderly but as effectively as you could, you pushed the pill past her lips and got her to swallow it down with some water.
When her breathing had grown more controlled and her shivering had subsided, you go to your feet. “I’m leaving you some bacta and wound dressings along with some pills that’ll help with the fever. That’s all I can do now.”
“Thank you.” She clasped your hand tightly. “I won’t forget this.”
“It’s better that you do.” You said grimly. “And once she’s better, if you still need a way out of here, use the actual transports off this planet.” You chucked a bag of credits on the ground before you walked out of the room.
You rounded the corner but swiftly pressed your back against the wall since there was a group of stormtroopers directly in your path. You would have no chance of finding them with those soldiers in your way. You needed to find a way around them and what better way to do that than going from roof to roof. You summoned the Force and jumped to the top of the building and got moving.
You would get a better view from above anyway.
--
When another small squad of troopers made their presence known ahead, Hunter signalled him and Wrecker to an alleyway out of the line of their sight. He knew they were close to you, but the Imperial presence was making it hard to track you effectively.
“We can’t keep hiding like this, Hunter.” Wrecker grunted in frustration.
“I know, Wrecker.” Hunter agreed, equally as irritated. “If I could just-” He stopped suddenly.
“Hunter?”
“Someone’s here.” Hunter muttered quietly as his hand fell over his blaster.
“You’re getting sloppy, Sergeant. I’ve been following you the past 3 blocks.”
The voice that he’d been longing to hear and that was so familiar, he’d recognise it anywhere. His breath hitched with the realisation at what this finally meant. Hunter took off his helmet and turned around to the distant sound of feet hitting a puddle in the ground. And it was you. Standing there before him. It was finally you.
“Hello, Hunter.” You said softly, so softly you could barely hear the words themselves due to the sound of your own heart thundering in your ears. If it wasn’t for the flash of recognition in his eyes or the way Wrecker’s jaw dropped as he propped his helmet atop his head, you wouldn’t have been certain that you’d said anything at all. You tugged down your coverings and let yourself be unprotected to the rain.
He felt like the air had been punched out of his lungs. Hunter dropped his helmet and something akin to a choked gasp fell from his mouth as he could at long last lay his eyes on you. He started to slowly walk towards you but that soon became a run, water kicking up against him, but he didn’t care.
Your feet slapped against the wet ground as you met him halfway and crashed into his arms with a thankful sigh and buried your face in his neck. Even as you held him tightly to you, part of you still couldn’t believe that it was him. You felt something swell in your heart, a feeling you couldn’t place but knew you hadn’t felt in a long time.
Did you deserve this? Did you deserve to have him back after all you’d done? Pushing the thought away, you readjusted your embrace as if you could somehow hold him even closer.
He twisted his hands in your clothing and breathed you in. He’d imagined this moment for so long. When things seemed too dark and hopeless, he’d clung on to this. To think about how it would feel to finally see you again. To hold you again. And imagination couldn’t compare to the utter joy in his heart that reality brought him. He almost didn’t want to let you go for fear that you could be taken away again but practicality took precedence, the two of you couldn’t stay this way forever, as much as he might want to.
Tears mixed with rain streamed down both your cheeks as you parted from one another.
You cupped his face in your hands. “You’re here? You’re actually here?” You murmured, your voice cracking with emotion. You’d driven yourself crazy with picturing this moment, you needed to make sure this wasn’t your brain’s idea of a cruel joke.
Hunter removed your hands from his face and kissed your gloved knuckles. “I’m here.” He whispered back, his breathing still shaky as he pressed pressing his forehead into yours.
“You’re here.” You repeated as you looked into his soft brown eyes.
Hunter’s thumb gently caressed the cut on your lip, and he noticed the other wound on your nose. “Did they-”
You pulled his hand away. “Doesn’t matter. This is all I care about right now.”
Before Hunter could push the matter, he felt his brother approach.
“And what about me?”
You glanced past Hunter to the indignant but affectionate voice. “Hi, Wrecker.” You met his open armed invitation and let him swing your around as he hugged you.
“Good to see you, (Y/N)!”
“How’d you find me?” You asked as he placed you back down.
“You didn’t make it easy.” Wrecker griped. “We always seemed to be two steps behind you.”
“I haven’t exactly been hiding though.” You disputed as you pointed to a discarded wanted poster on the ground beside you.
“Between the Imperials and dead end leads and your rather annoying ability to hide in plain sight, it was tough. We got a lucky break with a guy whose brother owned another pawn shop here. Saw the results of a fight and figured we’d finally caught up with you.” Hunter explained as he came to stand in front of you and took his helmet from his brother.
You gulped. You’d be careful to make sure the people you’d gone after had no one they’d be leaving behind. You didn’t realise you’d messed up with that this time. “He- he had a brother?”
Hunter tilted his head at the unusually emotive response. “Apparently but I’m assuming you had a good reason for ending it the way you did.”
You coughed. “Yeah, totally.” You straightened your back and changed the subject. “Where’s Echo?”
“Using his contact to try to get more intel on Hemlock. We still don’t know where he’s holding Omega.” Hunter kicked the ground. “Don’t suppose you have anything?”
“I wish I did but everything I gathered was either old or what we knew already. He’s good at laying low.” You seethed.
“We’ll get him, though. We have too.” Wrecker stated firmly.
“How soon can you leave?” Hunter asked.
“Um, well-” You cut yourself off as your sight drifted past Hunter’s shoulder to the end of the alley at the lone trooper that had a blaster pointed at Hunter’s back.
“Watch out!” You yelled as you pushed Hunter out the way of the incoming blaster bolt. You drew your blaster and fired a shot that landed in the centre of the trooper’s chest, and he dropped to the ground. But you knew, where there was one stormtrooper, there would be at least five more behind them.
“We need to move out.” Hunter urged as he got back to his feet and put his helmet on. “A firefight will draw too much attention.”
“No time.” You stated simply as you pulled your hood and mask back up.
“We’ve got more incoming!” Wrecker confirmed as he lowered his helmet and opened fire on the small squad of troopers that had arrived.
The three of you took cover behind a skip, only firing defensive shots back. You needed to draw the soldiers closer before going on the offensive.
When they had gotten close enough, Hunter threw a smoke bomb, the action allowing the three of you to advance and take out the troopers one shot at a time.
As the firefight continued, however, you began to feel unsteady on your feet and your movements felt unbalanced. Your tingling limbs ensured that your aim was skewed too. All that, combined with the wetness you felt pooling from your stomach meant the trooper had better aim than you credited them for- you’d been hit. You couldn’t afford to think about what this meant, right now, you needed to get outta here.
But you’d been distracted long enough for one downed soldier you’d dismissed as being a threat to come around and jab their blaster against your knee. You grunted with the impact but turned your blaster on him and he lay limp on the ground.
Hunter and Wrecker tidied off the few retreating stragglers. They could deal with this small group but anything more would prove difficult.
With the last trooper taken care of, you braced yourself against the wet wall. The fading adrenaline in your system now being replaced by agony and you ripped your mask down and took deep but laboured breaths.
“Their reinforcements won’t be long. We made a bit of noise.” Wrecker said as he holstered his blaster.
But Hunter wasn’t paying attention to what Wrecker was saying. His gaze was fixed on you and the way you were struggling to hold yourself up against the wall. “(Y/N), what-” He stopped as he saw the crimson drops that mixed with the rainwater drip from the hand pressed to your stomach onto the ground. No, no, no. He thought to himself. This couldn’t be happening. He couldn’t lose you when he’d only just found you again.
Your knees buckled and you fell to the ground, Hunter catching your shoulder was the only reason you were able to stay sitting up but without the distraction of the fight, the pain was overwhelming. Black spots danced in the corners of your vision, but you couldn’t succumb to them, not now. Not after all this. You tried to lift your head to speak but all that left your mouth was a tortured groan.
As collected as he wanted to be to deal with this, he couldn’t totally keep his panic at bay. His hands trembled as he attempted to get you to look at him. He delicately brushed some loose strands of hair from your face. “Sshh, I’ve got you.” He whispered tenderly, fighting to keep the worry out of his voice. What made it all the worse was that he knew this wound didn’t occur through the fight they’d just seen out, you’d been hurt shoving him out the way of that first shot that drew the rest of the stormtroopers in.
How could he have allowed this to happen? What good were his enhanced senses if he couldn’t protect the people he loved. You shouldn’t have needed to push him out the way of that blaster bolt, he should’ve known the trooper was there and now you were paying the price for his mistake.
“What can we do?” Wrecker asked quickly.
You winced and tried for words again. “Medical centres are a no. Where’s- where’s the ship?”
“Landing bay 6.” Wrecker replied.
You inhaled sharply. Your current state made things all too easy for the Imperials to catch you making your way there. “Too far. We- we gotta get to my place. She- she might kill me but- argh!” You broke off with a cry of pain as you reached a hand up to Hunter. “But it’s safe there and- and she’ll know what to do.”
“Hold on.” Hunter rasped as he took a grip of your forearm and signalled to Wrecker to keep an eye out as he pulled you to your feet.
You pressed your hand into your side with a pained gasp as Hunter put his arm around you and supported most of your weight and the three of you got on the move.
--
“This is it?” Wrecker asked- his scepticism evident despite the pressing matter at hand- as he stared at the condemned building.
“All the regular penthouses were taken.” You kidded before you swayed on your feet as a wave of dizziness struck.
“Woah, easy.” Hunter cautioned as he strengthened his grip.
“Second floor.” You hissed. “And mind the fourth step on the second staircase. Half of it is missing.”
“It can never just be simple.” Hunter grumbled anxiously as Wrecker opened the decrepit door to the building.
“Would it really be a reunion if everything went well?” You joked deliriously.
“Right now, yes I would definitely prefer it.” Hunter fretted as he saw your head dip. You were losing the battle of staying conscious with each passing second. The next time it happened, he wasn’t sure you would be able to lift your head again.
--
Lyra had barely any time to process the familiar people standing in her doorway as she answered the pounding knock. All she could do was stare at you, half collapsed against Hunter’s side, your hand cradling your stomach, and then her eyes caught sight of the trail of blood that had followed your path up. “What-”
“Hey, girl. Remember- remember how I promised I wouldn’t put you through something like this again? Turns out, I shouldn’t- shouldn’t have done that.” You said through gritted teeth before you stumbled as you tried to take a step forward, prompting Hunter to lift you up.
“Please.” The hoarse plea was all Hunter managed to say.
“Lay her here.” Lyra quickly stepped aside to let the three of you in and pointed to the couch.
Hunter hustled inside and delicately placed you on the worn soft. He took off his helmet and kneeled by your head and stroked your hair back from your forehead. “You’re going to be alright. You need to hold on for me, okay? I’m not losing you again.” He whispered against your temple before he left a light kiss on your brow.
“Good news, it’s not as bad as last time.” Lyra said as she examined the wound before getting up to go gather the medical supplies.
“The bar is rather low on that front, Lyra.” You moaned.
“Last time?” Hunter found himself asking as he tore his stare from your bloody injury to Lyra.
Lyra didn’t respond, she was too busy staring at the depleted supply of medical care. She took a deep breath and braced her hands against the countertop. “(Y/N)… what happened to the bacta?”
Seemingly forgetting that you were currently in severe pain and bleeding out, you went to prop yourself up but Hunter’s hand gently pushing against your shoulder stopped you. “Hey.” You protested wearily.
“You can answer the question like that.” Hunter chastised.
“The bacta?” Lyra pressed as she rifled through the other cupboards in case it had somehow been misplaced.
No, not yet. You told yourself as the black dots returned. You blinked them away and took a strained breath before you answered. “I- I may have given it away…”
“You-” Lyra had to take a deep, calming breath and pinched the bridge of her nose. “You gave it away? What in all the galaxy would possess you to do that?”
“Well, I saw someone in need and decided-” You broke off with another pained wince. “Decided to finally be a good citizen.”
Lyra released an exasperated sigh. “Do I need to remind you of your track record? You need bacta like the rest of us need water.”
“In my defence, I wasn’t planning on needing it anymore. This- this time really wasn’t my fault.”
“I quite frankly don’t give a fuck! You can’t just-”
“Can we do this later?” Hunter interrupted as he saw your face contort in discomfort. “Preferably when she’s able to hold a conversation without convulsing in pain?”
“I can run back to our ship and get some.” Wrecker offered as he lifted his helmet.
“Go.” Hunter said with a nod, but Lyra held out a hand to stop the bigger clone from going.
“She doesn’t have that kinda time. I can cauterise it the old-fashioned way, but it’ll just hurt like hell.” Lyra said with a grimace.
“That’s fine because I don’t think I’m going to be conscious for much longer.” The darkness encroaching on your vision was all too tempting and you were completely exhausted.
“No, you stay awake.” Lyra ordered sternly.
Hunter and Wrecker turned their attention sharply to you.
“Come on, (Y/N). You gotta hang in there.” Wrecker urged as he reached over the back of the couch and placed a large hand on your shoulder.
“Sweetheart, keep your eyes on me.” Hunter begged as he saw them flicker open and shut but it was a battle that he knew you were going to lose.
You wanted to; you really did but you just couldn’t. You shut your eyes and embraced the peace of the darkness.
 “Hunter, she’s still breathing right?” Lyra asked as she picked up the last few things she needed.
“Shallowly but yes.” Hunter said with a thankful sigh.
“That’s good enough.” Lyra ran back to the couch and began to start to process of stabilising you.
--
You were in a dim corridor. The only light seemed to at the end of the long passageway. You made to walk towards it, hoping it would show you a way out but as you walked, it seemed to move away from you. You broke into a run but the distance between you and the light only grew. You paused your run as you thought about what this could mean. It was then though that a voice spoke up and a figure appeared next to you.
You won’t get to it.
You faced the figure. It almost sounded and looked like you but there was something off about it. There was a yellow shimmer in the eyes and the face was gaunt and mean-looking, with lips that seemed to be in a permanent sneer. The voice carried a cruel, sinister overtone that made your blood run cold and the hair on the back of your neck stand up.
It’ll keep staying away from you.
But why? You studied whatever it was before you as they circled you. When it walked, it was cast in constant shadow.
You think after all you’ve done; you can have that light back? You think you deserve it?
Before you could form a reply, your attention was drawn to a scene unfolding to your right.
Aww this was your first failure. But it brought me to the surface, so I remain pretty grateful.
Your breath caught in your throat as you recognised the moment. You saw your master completely surrounded by battle droids, taking hit after hit. And you saw yourself as a Jedi Knight sprinting to reach him. You went to turn away, but a strong hand grabbed the back of your neck, forcing you to keep looking.
There’s you. Being too late to save him. Do you remember the last words you said to him?
You did and they were words you had regretted ever since.
‘Stubborn, foolish, out of touch, old timer whose only purpose was to be a pawn for the orders of the Jedi Council’ I believe they were.
Stop it.
He died knowing you failed him.
You squeezed your eyes shut as you heard the final shot that sent your master crumbling to the ground.
You got a taste for it then.
Despite the fact you wanted to refuse, you found yourself opening your eyes to seeing yourself utterly decimate the remaining droids by your master’s dead body. You saw the merciless gleam in your eyes and the callous smile that graced your face as you destroyed them. You had enjoyed that. The scene finished with you repeatedly bringing your lightsaber down on the final droid, the blue blade moving in unrestrained fury. Why did you show me that? You asked bleakly.
But the darkness didn’t give you a proper answer. It only pushed an icy finger on your lips. Pay attention, we’re not done yet. It took you a while to accept that this was always in you. You worked on shutting me out. You managed for a while… but then she left.
You wanted nothing more than to leave this place and this darkness before you, but all control had been taken from your body. Your feet began moving of their own accord and you were directed to another moment on your left this time. You were stopped and the hand took a harsh grip of your neck again. You were forced to watch Ahsoka walk out the Council Chamber doors, with Anakin following her and then you viewed yourself in horror as you saw the rage written across your face and heard the venom in your words as you yelled at the Council. Had you really been that uncontrolled? That angry?
Even though you finally left those uptight pricks, you still insisted on keeping me hidden though. Rather irritating I must say. I wondered what it would take for you to accept me. And then he came into your life.
You were pushed along the hall again to the next part which was replaying your first interaction with Hunter and your chest felt tight. Leave him out of this.
Oh, but he’s the best part. Your figure taunted nastily.
The scene switched and were now being greeted with flashes of your intimate moments with Hunter. Enough.
The only reply came in the form was an unkind laugh.
Giving into that lust felt good, didn’t it? The possessiveness, the selfishness that came with having someone just for you was too enticing to pass up.
No, that wasn’t what it was at all. Stop.
You liked the feeling of knowing you could use that attachment to excuse any darker actions. You would be doing it for him, so it made it okay. It wasn’t love for him you were feeling, it was a love for the freedom to channel me that you craved. He was merely a convenient vessel.
No, you’re wrong! You insisted but your voice lacked conviction, everything was getting so twisted that you were now doubting the feelings you thought you never would.
The darkness just gave you a pitying look. Just keep watching and you’ll see I’m right.
So, you did. You were shoved further up the corridor to see you and the Batch together. Memories that you once would’ve looked back on in fondness were now tainted by pain and disappointment that you’d dragged them into your mess. The darkness took no notice of your distress, it just continued talking.  
Much to my delight, you grew to care for all of that group. I knew that attachment would lead to something marvellous for us and then it finally happened.
You moved along to the next scene and your breathing grew uneven as the image of Eriadu appeared. You couldn’t bear seeing this again but once more, you were left with no choice but to hear Tech say that dreaded plan and watch him fall to his death.
Of course, he was another one you were too slow to save but-
You wouldn’t hear this. No, we didn’t have the time. There was nothing I could’ve done. What happened was-
Oh, I know you tried telling yourself that, but my very existence tells me that you know if you’d allowed me in earlier, the situation itself wouldn’t have happened. You’d have killed Gerrera before he even had a chance to set those explosives off.
No, you’re wrong. You said through a shaken whisper, but you didn’t believe the words you were saying anymore.
Although I must say, I’m glad you didn’t quite give in then since I am rather pleased with how it all turned out. His death was the catalyst to a glorious chain of events. So much loss and broken trust. Finally, you had the reason to welcome me without restraint or regret.
You felt your anger rise as the voice kept talking whilst the scene changed from his death to Cid’s betrayal and Omega being captured and you being separated from Hunter. Nothing about that had been a blessing. It couldn’t have been. Shut up. You snarled. But the figure only smugly beamed.
There it is. There’s that power. You can deny it all you want but that was the best thing that happened to you. You let me in and from that point on, nothing stopped you getting what you wanted. And it felt divine. You know it did. Look at how formidable you are with me being a part of things.
You were dragged along the hall and all that appeared around you were the people in the galaxy you’d threatened, brutalised, and murdered. You had no other option but to watch and hear their tortured pleas and screams. You didn’t need the darkness to talk you through these this time, you recalled very clearly that during all of this, you’d felt not one bit of remorse. You’d thought they deserved it. You’d fallen so far, and a way back now seemed impossible.  
The darkness commented on a particular time where you were torturing a woman who’d been very difficult to track and get information from. Even when you did find her, she’d been loyal to the Empire, insisting you should’ve died with the rest of the Jedi traitors. You’d responded by cracking the individual bones in her fingers and hands before moving up to the bones in her arm. You’d broken her right clavicle before she’d finally told you what you needed to know. I particularly liked this moment. Do you remember how she couldn’t stand afterwards? All she could do was writhe on the floor in agony. Quite a humorous sight.
You remembered them all and it made you feel sick to your stomach now as you watched the endless stream of tormented and pained faces of people you had tortured and killed in your quest for information.
The last scene disappeared and despite the fact you had been walking along the corridor that whole time, the light had still remained far out of reach.
See? No matter how far you go, you’ll never reach that light. Why bother searching for it anymore? You know you’re better off alone. All you need is this power and you’ll be unstoppable. But since I know some part of you still cares for your clones, don’t trouble them with this. It’s not something that can be shared or fixed.  
The figure faded and you collapsed to your knees in defeat. You had succumbed to that darkness and hurt and killed too many people. You’d crossed that line, and you weren’t sure there was a way back for you and you wouldn’t take Hunter down with you. Or Wrecker and Echo. They deserved a chance to rescue Omega and set things right, and if being with Hunter meant that chance would be at risk, you wouldn’t take that from them. Even if it would kill you, it would be the last thing you did to protect your family. ‘No attachments. There is no emotion, there is peace.’ You had to finally listen to that part of the Jedi Code that you had fought against for years and… and you would let them go.
--
Once it seemed things were more under control, Wrecker broke the quiet. “I’m going to go keep watch.” He said before walking out.
There were a few minutes of silence, the only noise being the quiet hiss of Lyra sealing shut your injury now that she’d cleaned it.
“Didn’t know you had this skill set.” Hunter said into the quiet as he watched Lyra.
“I tell myself it’s not so different from stitching and making clothes. Plus, she kinda made it that I had to learn quick. There were just some things she couldn’t handle on her own.”
There was a dip in conversation again.
“I was sorry to hear about your kid... and Tech.” Lyra said quietly as she worked on you. She placed a bandage over your now closed injury and started to put away the medical supplies.
The mention of his brother’s name had him stiffening his posture. “Yeah, well, we’re going to find her.”
Lyra nodded understandingly before she indicated to you. “She’s been non-stop since Ord Mantell. She wouldn’t rest until she found you. Didn’t matter how dangerous things got, she wouldn’t stop.”
Hunter continued to stroke your brow. “She’s not the only one.”
“I almost wished she would. I thought the search was going to kill her. Especially after what happened last time.”
This wasn’t the first time she’d mentioned this now. And from the dynamic between the two of you since arriving here, he figured there was key subtext he was missing. He glanced over to Lyra. “What are you talking about?”
Lyra took a short breath. “It was a few weeks ago. She-” Lyra stopped as she heard you let out a soft groan.
“Hey you.” Hunter said softly as you slowly opened your eyes. “How are you feeling?”
You didn’t answer him. Whatever soreness you were experiencing wouldn’t come close to the misery your next course of action would cause you. “Thank you. Again.” You said to Lyra instead.
Lyra nodded. “I’ll go keep Wrecker company.” She said before grabbing her sniper rifle and making her exit.
Hunter brought his focus back to you and provided a supportive hand on your back as you sat up. “Take as long as you need. I figured once you’re feeling more up to it, you can say your goodbyes and leave with us. After-”
“You have to go.”
“Yes, I know…” Hunter said, tilting his head at you. “But you need a bit of time and-”
“No, you need to leave without me.”
Without you? No, you couldn’t mean that. “What’s-” He stopped for a moment to try and recover from the confusion your statement caused him. “What’s changed between that alleyway and now?”
You knew he wasn’t going to make this easy but every minute you had to do this was tearing you apart. “Everything has. The Empire knows what I am. It’ll add unnecessary heat.”
“We’ll cope.”
You swallowed harshly and grimaced as you readjusted your sitting position. “It’s not just that. Things changed when we got separated. I changed.”
“That doesn’t scare me.”
“It should. All I’ve done…” You trailed off and gulped. “I’m not who I used to be.”
 “I’ve done things I’m not proud of too. But we can-”
 “Hunter, I don’t belong with you anymore.”
Hunter couldn’t accept that. “You’re one of us. You always have been. Since the first moment you stepped in front of those droids on Devaron, you were one of us. I don’t understand why-”
“There’s someone else.” You blurted out and fuck you hated yourself for it. You knew by the way he recoiled from you and from deep hurt and betrayal that flashed across his face, you would’ve been better off hitting him. You knew you had to hurt him. Even if he left hating you, you could find a way to let him go. But you hated that you had to do it.
“There’s someone else.” Hunter repeated quietly, his throat bobbing as he kept his voice tight.
You had to push it. It was the only way, but it felt like your heart was being ripped out of your chest as you said the next words. You forced yourself to keep your voice cold and level. “I’ve moved on. I only needed to know that you were alive. And now I do. You can go now. Just leave and don’t think about me again. It’ll save us all a lot of bother.” You couldn’t face the wounded look in his eyes and you turned your own away from him and had to blink away the tears that threatened to fall.
Hunter clenched his jaw and swallowed thickly. “Look me in the eye and tell me that again.” He implored.
He knew you too well. You wouldn’t do it. If you did, he would know you were lying. So, you opted for something worse- you would manipulate his heart. “If any part of you still cares about me, you will go. That’s all I want now. I need you to leave. You’ll only be hurting me more if you stay.” You said firmly as you faced him again.
You sounded so sure, and even if he thought he could see something in your eyes that took the conviction out of your words, he’d never want to cause you pain, he wouldn’t be able to stand it. Better him be the one to take the hurt, no matter how unnatural it felt, no matter how much every fibre of his being yearned to stay by your side and work this out. So, Hunter got to his feet and walked over to the door. “Every part of me still cares about you.” He murmured back to you before the door opened and he walked out. He was walking out on you- something he thought he’d never do- and it left him feeling like he had a gaping hole in his chest.
--
As you heard the door shut, a broken sob left your lips and you let the tears fall.
--
“Where is she?” Lyra asked as Hunter came out from the door behind them.
“Keep her alive.” Hunter said numbly to Lyra before he walked away.
“Hunter-” Lyra started to say but the clone wasn’t stopping.
“Eh, well, I guess it was nice to see you.” Wrecker said hurriedly before he darted after his brother.
“Bye.” Lyra said with confusion as she watched the two clones go. She turned to go back inside and hopefully knock some sense into you.
--
You’d managed to drag yourself into the sanctity of your room, but the isolation wasn’t helping things. The regret you were feeling was overwhelming but what was done was done. You needed to stand by your choice, it was what was best for them, you just needed to learn how to cope. You needed something, anything, to distract your brain from the self-doubt running rampant in your head so, staying mindful of your wound, you tentatively sat back on your bed and closed your eyes, drowned out the pouring rain smacking against the glass, and found your centre again.
Not to your surprise, you were only surrounded by darkness. You’d let the last light in your life go, there was nothing left for you now.
Spark.
Not that voice. Not again, you couldn’t handle that. “No, I’m not doing this.”
Yes, you are. You need to listen to me, Spark.
You sighed and saw the figure of your old master appear in the vast space before you. “So, either I somehow took a turn and I’m dead or I’m hallucinating.”
Your master simply chuckled. Must it always be extremes with you?
“You taught me what I know, you tell me.”
Well, based off your past choices, I would say you’ve forgotten much of what I taught you.
“This is why you’re in my head? To lecture me about my choices? Yes, I broke the code, big whoop. I never liked it anyway. And now I’ve given into the dark side, sorry to have disappointed you.” You grumbled as you looked down at your feet.
He sighed. It hurt him to see you look so defeated, this wasn’t the young Jedi he’d raised. Evidently, you were going to need more help than he expected. This isn’t some meditative trick. I’ve always been with you, Spark, and now I’m with you because you need help. You’ve strayed from your path, and you need guidance.
“You’re a few months too late, Master.” The title came back into your vocabulary so naturally, you’d nearly missed the fact that you’d reverted back to your student/teacher dynamic so quickly.
That defeat you’re feeling is exactly why I’m here now. This dark side you seem to think is your destiny is not decided, but if you continue to stand by the decision that you just made, it will be. There’s a chance for you, Spark, don’t throw it away.
You couldn’t bring yourself to believe him. “If you’ve truly been around for all of this, you’ll know what I’ve done. You’ve seen what I’ve become. I wasn’t as strong I thought I was.”
You haven’t fallen yet. He reiterated. What you’ve gone through would wreck most people, the fact that you’ve only strayed from the light now is a credit to you. But this choice you’ve made to let them go is what will seal your fate.
“What are you talking about? I was on this path long before what happened on Ord Mantell. I saw it!” You said, your voice rising in frustration and distress. Why was everyone around you so insistent that you could heal from this? You’d shown your true colours years ago, you were only doing what you were obviously meant for.
He raised his hands to calm you. Spark, listen to me. You’re not-
“I had to let him go! I had to let them all go! You should be glad, Master! I’m finally following the teaching you worked so hard on getting through to me!” Your breathing grew more uneven and the word that left your mouth were filled with self-loathing, but you couldn’t stop them. “I’m damaged goods, I have been from the beginning, and I couldn’t bring him down with me! I couldn’t bring any of them down with me!” You felt tears slide down your cheeks as the emotion you had been trying to hard to push down came crashing to the surface.
And is letting attachments go part of the Jedi or Sith philosophy? He asked gently.
His genteel manner caught you off guard. You huffed out a quick breath. “Why does that matter?”
Answer the question, please.
You released an agitated sigh. “Jedi, I guess but-”
And let me ask you this, you said you saw what you’ve done? How?
You regained some composure. “I don’t know how to describe what it was I saw, but whatever it was took me down a lovely stroll through memory lane and I saw what I was. There’s no denying it now.”
It was starting to make sense to him now and with this new understanding, he finally knew the best way to help you. Yes, the dark side can be very manipulative that way. Especially when it knows there’s been pain plenty of pain and sorrow. It preys upon that and I’m just sorry it got to you before I could.
“What are you talking about?”  
What you saw, it wasn’t the whole truth.
Not the whole truth? “What do you mean?”
He looked at you with intrigue. What do you think I mean?
You inhaled deeply to find some patience. “Master, please. I’m not your padawan anymore.”
He bowed his head in acknowledgement. You’ll always be my padawan, Spark. But I understand this may not be the best time for one of my lessons.
Despite everything, the nostalgia his teaching persona brought you had you humming out a quiet laugh. “I guess working together on whatever cryptic lesson you’re going to impart on me will be fine, for old times sake if nothing else. Just don’t leave it all to me. I’m not clear-headed enough to do all the thinking.”
He nodded and smiled knowingly at you. It will be less cryptic that the lessons I used to give you. Let us begin.
You knew that gleam in his eye and you forgot that no matter how agitated or frustrated you’d been growing up as his pupil, he’d always found a way to put you at ease and you’d been more open to learning again. Even dead, he still seemed to possess that ability. And it was because of that, you found yourself getting ready to welcome whatever wisdom he felt could get you out of this hell you’d put yourself in.
Now, I understand that you are feeling a lot of guilt and self-loathing, correct?
Feeling it? You felt like you were drowning in it.
And you have convinced yourself that your clones, particularly… Hunter, isn’t it? He waited for your nod before continuing, are better off without you because you’ve done too much. Stepped over that line one too many times? A lost cause, yes?
“I guess you could say that.” You mumbled.
He hummed in thought before he spoke again. You mentioned something about you were this way from the beginning. Can you tell me to which beginning you are referring to?
You inhaled shakily. “I- I saw you die again. I watched myself destroy the rest of those droids in undisciplined rage and- and I was reminded of what I’d said to you.”
Ah yes, that was quite the day. Rather humiliating on my part, I must say. I should’ve just listened to you from the start. My we exchanged some choice words. He ruminated with a small chuckle.
You remembered him having a rather dry sense of humour, but this just seemed absurd. You’re laughing about this?! I was awful to you! I saw you die and all I could do was wreak havoc on a group of droids and I enjoyed it! I held your dead body in my arms and the last thing I had done was insult you and forget everything you’d taught me for some fucking battle droids!”
He held up his hands to appease you. You’re right, I shouldn’t have laughed but that wasn’t quite how it went.
You furrowed your brow. “What? I saw it! I remember it pretty clearly, even without the reminder. I’m haunted by it and you’re telling me that wasn’t what happened?!”
He shook his head. Not quite. Remember, the dark side has a remarkable ability to alter events to fit its needs. It only picks out the moments necessary to draw out those darker emotions. What you saw was true, from a certain point of view, but it didn’t show you everything.
“Then what am I missing?” You asked, desperation in your voice because if there was anything that could help ease the ache from that day, you needed it.
I wasn’t dead when I hit the ground. Fret not, no amount of medical attention would’ve saved me. He interjected hastily as he saw the panic that graced your face. Although the sadder truth is I did in fact die in your arms but… He angled his head to catch your eye again as you had shied away from him upon hearing that. He started again, but your last words to me were not fuelled by irritation or cruelty, you apologised for what you said as well as how you handled those droids. You told me that I was the best teacher you’d ever had, and you promised you would continue to work on what I taught you and to make me proud. That was the last thing you said to me before I passed on. And I can honestly say, Spark, that you kept your promise, despite how it might seem currently.
You went to speak but found that you didn’t have the words. All these years spent being tormented by a memory that in fact had another side to it, could that be right? Seeing it again had made it seem all the more true but there was nothing but sincerity in his face and voice as he told you this. He wasn’t looking to feed you a false narrative, there was no vindictiveness in his tone.
You don’t have to believe me immediately, I know things have been tough but we’re going to go through this and I’m going to help you see the truth, okay? He said tenderly.
You could only nod.
Okay. He straightened up. I’m going to make an educated guess and say that if that incident was the starting point, the next situation would’ve been that unfortunate time with Ahsoka and the Jedi Council and also the day you decided to leave?
You gulped and found your voice again. “Um, yeah.”
And I expect you were shown yourself in an untamed rage with little concern over the words you used?
You gave a stiff nod of your head.
Uh huh, well, once again, you were shown a manipulated memory created from shame. You were unhappy, and I can’t say I blame you, they really fucked that up if you pardon the phrase.
You couldn’t help but snort at his gentlemanly manner and you were reminded of the many telling offs for language you’d received growing up.
And while you were disappointed in them and frustrated, you never lost control of yourself. Your voice was raised but level. You were clear in your points, and you never said anything untoward save for some unsavoury language sprinkled in. He watched you impart the familiar eye roll as he said that last statement, but he took that as a positive sign. Your attachment to Ahsoka didn’t cloud your judgment, your decision to leave was made with a steady heart and a focused head. And I watched you do it and I knew it was the best decision for you. It did set things in motion, but they were good things for you, Spark, and it’s important that you realise that again. He looked at you earnestly.
You held his gaze, and, in his eyes, you saw the master that had been with you through thick and thin. The master that had put up with your questions and doubts about the Jedi Order that the Jedi Council could hardly tolerate. You saw the master that had mentored you and fought by your side for years. He was one of the people that had known you best. He wouldn’t lie to you, and you felt your heart opening up to what he was saying to you.
Shall we continue? He asked after giving you a minute to process.
You shook your shoulders and exhaled heavily before you looked at him and give him a single, firm nod.
--
He had taken you through various events bit by bit. Pointing out that elements that demonstrated you were still being pulled towards the light. Things like you would’ve either left or killed Lyra the second she’d gotten you out of Ord Mantell and her use was over. Things like you wouldn’t have offered so many opportunities for people to talk to you before you injured or killed them, you would have hurt them first and asked questions later- killing and pain had never been your first port of call. And any firefight that ensued, when possible, you made sure you remained the primary target and civilians would be out of harms way.
Concern for others and worry about the consequences of your actions… Sith and dark side users tend not to feel or allow for these things. He surmised.
Even if what he was revealing to you was the whole picture, there was still the pressing matter of how you’d been in the recent months. “But Eriadu and everything that followed after… I let something in, what was it if not the dark side?”
He gave you a sympathetic smile. You had never experienced loss and betrayal in such quick succession before. What you let in was the anger and anguish you were feeling which you weren’t trained to handle properly. The more you went on, the more those emotions twisted your brain which allowed the darkness to creep in and make it more effortless to act on said emotions. It was easier for you to get what you needed with your emotions being what they were, and you didn’t have to think about who was getting hurt. You got a rather bad case of tunnel vision- you were doing bad things for good reasons, but they were not senseless acts of violence.
“But I have done so many bad things.” You said with self-directed disgust.
Yes, but what you can do now is work towards finding that line again. To finding that control you had in the past. You’ve been on that path since this morning, the self-awareness of what you’ve been doing wasn’t present in the months before today. However, you cannot get back to that place alone anymore, you’ve changed since you left the Order and most of it was for the better, but more attachment means more support. You will not be able to find that balance if you let your family go. He said with a sense of urgency. He needed you to grasp what he was telling you, no matter how unnatural it might feel.
Your pulse quickened. Surely, he wasn’t suggesting what you thought he was? “What are you saying, Master?”
Do you know where your nickname originated?
Confused as you why this was suddenly relevant, you angled your head at him. “I always figured it was because word spread that I made my lightsaber slightly wrong the first time and nearly set it on fire when I first ignited it.”
He chortled. That acted more as a visual aid and a helpful addition to the true origin.
“Then where did it come from?”
He took a deep breath. In the weeks leading up to the time for us to choose a youngling to take under our wing, you caught my eye from the start. It wasn’t just your natural ability with a lightsaber or your quick grasp of the Force, it was how you interacted with the people around you. During the trials, you had a heightened care for how the others were performing and you aided them whenever you could without a second thought. It made you more focused, more effective. You were unique from your peers in that sense and in a way that I’d never seen before, and I knew I had to get to know you more to understand what it was I was picking up on.
“Yeah, I remember. I’d never expected someone to choose me so eagerly, especially since my disciplinary record was far from perfect, even at that age.” Youreminisced with a sigh.
Yes, my fellow Jedi were surprised at my decision, but there was just something within you I had to see for myself. As we got to understand each other and I could officially begin your training, I watched you continue to demonstrate this quality and I could feel it residing in the Force within you. You had this spark, this fire that drove you which would worry even the most disciplined Jedi Masters but with you, it was as much a part of you as the Force was with the rest of us. You were completely at peace with it, and it was something you probably didn’t realise was so rare. You could feel attachment without rejecting the light side of the Force to do so.
So, the name made a bit more sense after all these years, but you still couldn’t see why this was being brought up. “Okay…”
He could tell you were still hesitant to all this. Do you know which General had the most victories with the fewest casualty numbers? Quite a feat to have during war time I might add.
You huffed a heavy breath from your lips. “I have no idea. The war was such a mess and there were so many of us that it was hard to keep up with the results of each battle.”
Fair point. He conceded, but that doesn’t change the answer which is that it was you.
You were taken aback for a moment before you thought back to that period and part of it did make sense. Many of your strategies had seen you take on the most dangerous elements for the sake of the clones in your battalion despite protests from them, your master and pretty much everyone that was involved, but all that mattered to you was that they worked, and you did what you could to protect everyone else.
He knew you enough to recognise that face and he figured whatever it was you were thinking about would relate to his next question. And which General had the most visits to the medical wing? Another impressive award. He added with a hint of disapproval, his mask of control slipping slightly as he frowned at the memories of the countless notifications he’d receive of your admittance to the healing wards of the Jedi Temple.
You cringed as you remembered the fact you had been on a first name basis with all the medical personnel. “I did.”
He nodded. Attachments didn’t bring you down, they lifted you up. Their most negative consequence in that period seemed to be the recklessness they gave you- and my hair greying faster than I would’ve liked. He couldn’t help but say before he continued, but they didn’t unbalance you like they did most of us. And it is on that point my dear Spark, that I failed you.
“Failed me?” In what galaxy could he have possibly failed you when you were the one that had forgone all you stood for and was one slip away from total self-destruction.
When it became clear to me that this was indeed one of your best qualities and strengths, I was thrilled! It presented a challenge for me as you Master that I was looking forward to exploring! Your emotional attachment to people and causes was one I wanted to teach you to manage, not forbid. Your love and care didn’t make you more susceptible to the dark side and its dangers, it drew you closer to the light. That fire that burns within you isn’t a threat, it’s your way to become something greater. But the Council… He trailed off with a regretful sigh. They rejected my proposal that I mentor you in this way. So instead, as you got older, I worked on forcing you to dampen that flame within you but- He stopped for a moment and chuckled wryly. As you may remember, that was when the root of our conflicts started. Foolishly and rather selfishly-and this is an example of how even those of us that followed the Jedi Code to the letter slip from time to time- you passing your trials into Knighthood gave me profound relief. Not only did it mean I could see you become the Jedi you were always meant to be, but it meant my duty as your teacher was over and I could stop doing something I was against. But I shied away too much and stopped teaching you altogether, had I just been less of a ‘pawn of the Council’ as you quite rightly put it, what you’re experiencing now could have been avoided.
You took a moment to let his words sink in, but you wouldn’t let him blame himself for how you’d behaved in recent times. “I still made the choices to hurt those people, Master. You’re not responsible for my actions.”
Perhaps not, but I could’ve done more to make sure you were better equipped to deal with the loss attachment could bring rather than just tell you to stop feeling it altogether. Not that you listened to that anyway. He added with a slight grin.
You allowed yourself half a smile at that before his face turned sombre again.
But I should’ve stood up for you and for that I’m sorry.
You bowed your head in acceptance of his apology. “But what does all of what we’ve talked about have to do with where I am now?”
Everything I’ve shown you, everything you’ve felt in these recent months illustrates someone who had to cope with a tremendous amount of grief when they had been told their whole life to not feel or get attached. Even with your strength and abilities, Spark, that was a big ask, your actions, and the internal conflict you’re going through is an understandable outcome. But even in dealing with that struggle, you were never purely evil or sought to abandon your Jedi teachings. The only time I grew truly worried before now was whatever you did a few weeks ago. Even I couldn’t see you; it was like the very light around you was getting snuffed out. Care to tell me what you did?
You shook your head adamantly.  
Very well. As I was saying, all you’ve learned, all you’ve done and means you can heal from this. You are not a lost cause, not a source of darkness and despair. You are good at heart, Spark!
But Master, I-
No, don’t talk yourself out of this. Really think about what I’m telling you. You never abandoned Lyra, you did your best to ensure no civilian would be caught up in your fights, you offered chances to those people before you hurt them. And you were able to sense Hunter and Wrecker arrive. That source of light wouldn’t have shown itself if you were too far down that dark path.
Maybe so but-
He wouldn’t let you second guess yourself anymore. And when you realised that they were indeed on this planet… what did you do first?
You pondered for a moment before you remembered. I helped those sisters.
And when you found one another, you felt alive and hopeful again but because you’d been lost and confused for so long, it got manipulated into that guilt and regret and hurt you are experiencing right now that has left you exposed to this darkness. But before that, you were ready to free yourself of it, whether you truly realised it or not.
“Right…” You said distantly as you were slowly starting to understand what revelation he was guiding you towards.
I can see you working it out, you’re almost there. He encouraged.
Each lesson and aspect of this entire conversation began to click into place. “So, you’re saying that Hunter’s my light? He’s my way out of this?” You uttered quietly.
Isn’t he? He challenged with a supportive smile. And I believe he too made that fact very clear before you sent him away.
“I thought that was what I was supposed to do.” You said in dismay as your mind finally began to listen to what your Master had been telling you and you gained some proper clarity. What had you done?
He looked at you fondly. You were always a bad student when it came to applying and learning the history of our Code, it would fit that the first time you apply the philosophy to your life would be the poorer choice. They never unbalanced you, Spark. At the very least, they’re your way of staying true to the light side and your dark side knew that, hence it’s enthusiastic efforts to turn you.
You hid you head in your hands in embarrassment. You wouldn’t know a right decision if it smacked you in the face.  
Oh, and with regards to Cid and Hemlock, I leave that side of things entirely up to you, with your family by your side, I know punishing them however you like won’t ruin you.
“Thanks, Master.” You replied, a smile in your voice.
Not every Jedi gets the chance at a family, Spark, don’t throw it away now.
You glanced up in time to see him fade away but what was around you wasn’t pure darkness anymore; rays of light had broken into the gloomy space, with more fighting to get through.
--
You opened your eyes sharply and wiped away the damp residue of the tears that had escaped your eyes from your cheeks. He was right, they were the light in your life, and you’d been so stupid to let them go.
Ignoring the lingering pain of your injury, you hastily got to your feet, grabbed a couple bags of credits, and left your room only to be greeted by the disappointed and unhappy face of Lyra. “Hey, I was just-”
“You need to go after them. I’m sorry but I’m drawing the line here. I have not watched you put yourself through hell and risk your life month after month to find your family again only for you to throw it away for some stupid, fucked up, self-sabotaging reason! If you let them go, it will destroy you and as someone else who cares about you, I cannot allow you to do that! They’re your family, you need them, and they need you. And your kid needs you, you can’t just stop! And Hunter… that man is so in love with you it’s sickening, and you are as equally disgustingly in love with him! Whatever is holding you back, the two of you can get through together!”
“Lyra-” But she held up a finger to stop you.
“And you don’t need to worry about me, I will be fine. I’ll get a job and might even find a place that’s not a condemned building to live. You have to go!” She finished with a nervous exhale as she awaited your reaction.
“You’re right.” You agreed.
“Yeah, I am and- wait… what?” Lyra stared at you, shocked.
“I’m going after them.”
“You are?” She double checked.
“Yup.”
“Oh, thank fuck!” Lyra exclaimed before she darted forward and wrapped you up in her arms.
“How long were you coming up with that speech?” You kidded as the two of you hugged.
“For however long you were holed up in your room.” Lyra said with a laugh. “And in case you didn’t listen to that, I had my rifle set to stun and was fully prepared to drag you.”
“Glad we could avoid that.” You replied drily. “Also, ‘sickeningly in love?’” You quoted.
“I meant that as a compliment. Most people can only dream of that.”
You managed a short laugh. “I was an ass to you.” You mumbled shamefully.
“You were, but you were going through a lot.” Lyra said kindly as she removed herself from your hold.
“I was broken and hurting but that wasn’t an excuse to treat you how I did and I’m so sorry. I’m truly grateful for you and your friendship and well, just everything you’ve done for me. I won’t ever forget it. There are some spare bags of credits from those jobs I pulled whilst we were on the move in my bedside drawer, take them. And if there’s anything, and I mean anything you need, I will be there. You only have to get in touch.” You passed her the details of the Marauder’s comm channel.
“Go get ‘em.” Lyra said with a grin.
You gave her one last quick hug before you ran out the door, concern for your injury was pushed far to the back of your mind. You only prayed to the Force that you hadn’t left it too late.
--
“But I still don’t understand why we’re going without her. What you’ve said makes no sense.” Wrecker questioned as he followed Hunter up and down the Marauder as he got stuff ready for take-off.
“Not my problem, Wrecker. I don’t really want to relive it all again so that it makes sense to you.” Hunter said gruffly as he avoided making eye-contact with his brother and instead focused on keeping himself busy.
“She met someone else and you’re basically doing the whole ‘if you love someone you let them go?’”
“I guess that about sums it up.”
“That’s bullshit.”
“Wrecker-”
“I’m sorry, Sarge, but it’s true.”
“You weren’t there. You didn’t hear her.”
“She can’t have meant it! She still has your insignia, if there was someone else, why would she keep that?!”
“Wrecker, drop it.” Hunter said sharply. His brother’s insistence that you were making all this up was only rubbing salt in the wound.
“We’re really just going to leave and forget about her?”
“Yup.”
Wrecker just couldn’t accept that. “If you love someone, you fight for them! Otherwise, what’s the point in what we’re doing right now, why should we bother going after Omega?”
Hunter paused his pacing by the doorway and released an exasperated sigh. “What do you expect me to do?”
Wrecker went to speak but changed his mind as to what he was going to say as he saw the figure in the background. “Actually, I don’t think you’ll have to do anything.” Wrecker said, looking past Hunter’s shoulder.
Hunter turned to follow his gaze and that was when he saw you. Standing in the torrential rain a few feet away from the steps to the Marauder, was you and you were obviously trying to catch your breath.
--
You started to speak before you caught your breath, so your words were leaving you in a desperate and winded manner. “I was always a bad student.” You raised your voice over the sound of the pouring way. You wiped some drops away from your face, a futile gesture given the intensity of the downpour, but the motion assisted in grounding you for this moment.
Hunter studied you from afar for a second, unsure as to why you’d started this way.
Sensing his uncertainty, you cleared your throat and started again but your words still spilled from your lips in a nervous ramble. “So, it turns out I was always a Jedi who developed attachments and love for people, but apparently that’s a pretty strong and unique quality and applying the Jedi philosophy of ‘letting attachment go’ is a mistake and- and it felt like one. I have such a poor grasp of that concept that even when I went to use it properly, I got it all wrong. I was always a terrible student but for once, for once in my life, I have never been more grateful for it.” Your voice quivered as you said these next words. “I love you! I love you so much it hurts but it’s the kind of hurt that I can’t imagine not having in my life. You, this team, are what keep me balanced and alive, and I was stupid to think letting you go was the solution to everything I have done!”
Hunter could feel his heart thundering in his chest as he listened to what you were saying.
“Finally seeing you again made me feel hope and brought a newfound sense of purpose in my life I didn’t think I’d have again but it got all twisted, I let it get all messed up! I saw you and Wrecker, and I felt that love again and it terrified me at first! I had been acting out and miserable for so long that I didn’t think I deserved to feel this way again or that I should burden you all with my past. I needed to be punished and this was the best way I could think of. I allowed whatever darkness that had been driving me for that period we were apart to convince me that you were better of alone and I had to say whatever I could to get that to happen and for that, I am sorry!” You were in full flow now, all the emotions you’d been supressing came crashing to the surface and for once, it actually felt good. You weren’t existing as a husk of armour anymore.
Hunter couldn’t stand the gap between you anymore and he got his feet in motion. He needed to be near you, he needed to hold you again. You didn’t seem to notice his movement though because you carried on talking.
“There was never anyone else, there could never be anyone else! You’re it for me and this-” You stopped and gestured to the half white skull insignia on your top layer. “When I had this and said that you were a part of me, I truly meant it! Even when we weren’t together, that feeling never faltered. Half my heart beats for myself and this family I was fortunate enough to find. The other half beats for you! You are so deeply engrained in my very being that when I didn’t have you, I could hardly call it living! And then I got you back, and I was flooded with all the emotions I’d been missing since that day we were separated, and they collided with everything I’d done wrong, and I just panicked! I entered self-sabotage mode and thought letting you out of my life was what I had to do! I ruined one of the few remaining good things in my life and was preparing myself to let it be so. Thankfully, it was pointed out to me just how incorrect I was and I’m sorry!”
Hunter kept slowly walking down the steps towards you, the heavy rain instantly cascading down his face and body, but he didn’t care. His sole focus was on you now and the words you were saying. The words that were now healing the open wound he’d had since leaving you in that run down apartment.
“I need to come back. I need to be with you and I’m sorry I got everything so wrong! I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you, but you have to let me come back!”
“Yes.” He said as he continued to shorten the distance between you both.
“This family is the light of my life. You are the light of my life. So, either, let me come with you or just shoot me because without you, without this squad, I am just a shell of a human being and I’m done feeling like that now! You have to let me come back!”
“Yes.” Hunter said again as he stopped in front of you.
“And I-” You cut yourself off as you finally registered what he was saying and that the space between you both was now only a matter of inches. “Really?”
Hunter nodded and his hand fell to your waist whilst the other cradled the side of your face.
“I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry.” You whispered softly as your hand rested on his now unarmoured chest and you got utterly absorbed in the feeling of his heart pounding beneath your fingertips- each beat emphasising that this was real, you were actually with him now- and you had no doubt that he could pick up on the way your own pulse was racing.
“It’s okay.” He breathed. “I love you too.”
“I love you.” You croaked out again as you felt the emotions rise in the back of your throat.
“You never stopped being a part of me either.” He murmured, his breathing heavy as his self-restraint was hanging by a thread, but he needed you to be sure. “Can I-” Hunter started to ask as he angled his head and slowly brought his lips closer to yours.
“Yes.” You cut him off. If he didn’t kiss you now, you felt as though you might stop breathing.
Hunter swiftly bridged the remaining distance and the dread he’d been experiencing at the idea of never finding you, at the idea of leaving you behind instantly evaporated in this moment as he finally placed his lips on yours.
You sighed into the sensation of experiencing this again and what began as hesitant and careful, soon became a kiss between two people fuelled by passion who had been apart for far too long and who would never be apart again. You wrapped your arms around him and pressed yourself against him.
Hunter first made sure he held you securely in his arms but as the kiss progressed and both of you became more immersed in feeling each other once more, his hands started caressing everything he could find. The actions elicited a small but desperate noise from you which he already felt drunk off of and he needed to hear more of you. The rain that had once felt like a harsh cascade of cold, damp water now felt gentle and tepid. He got utterly absorbed in your warmth and he tasted the water on your lips, but the interference didn’t bother him, he just relished the feeling of having you back in his embrace again.
You faintly registered the sun breaking through and the rain lightened in its deluge as you kissed him. If it wasn’t such a perfect moment, you might’ve laughed at the cliched nature of it all, but you were too caught up in this feeling that you ignored it. You threaded your fingers in his hair and lightly tugged, soliciting that raspy and familiar groan from him and your stomach fluttered at the feeling.
Unfortunately, you couldn’t ignore your current injury any longer and you felt it strain as Hunter held you tighter to him in response to your actions.
Hunter forced himself to pull away upon feeling your wince, his chest heaving as he worked on getting oxygen back into his lungs, but you interrupted his incoming question by continuing to plant light, affectionate kisses on the rest of his face and he couldn’t help the low but happy laugh that he let out. He lightly grabbed your shoulders and took a slight step back to take you in. The way the sun fell across your face had his breath catching in his throat. Your eyes were bright and looking at him with an adoration that he knew was reflected in his own gaze and the blissful smile on your lips beautifully captured the feelings of this moment. He rested a hand on the side of your face.
You looked into his own shining dark brown eyes and leaned into his touch with a soft and content sigh.
Hunter continued to slowly caress your cheek. “Not to disrupt your healing journey, but I have to ask… where do you stand on Cid and Hemlock?”
“Oh, don’t worry, they’re getting fucked up. I have permission on that front.” You said with a decisive nod. “I just have to watch the line with those that aren’t exactly personally involved.”
Not going to question where this permission came from exactly, he was just grateful whatever had happened, had brought you back to him so he just focused on the last part. “I can help with that. And you can look out for me too. We don’t have to do this alone anymore.”
You gave him an agreeing and grateful smile before you planted another tender kiss to his lips and grabbed his hand as the two of you walked back to the ship.
“This you officially back with us now?” Wrecker asked with a grin as you stepped aboard.
“You won’t be able to get rid of me.” You replied with a small smile as you gazed around you. There were times where you had felt uncertain as to whether you would stand amongst these comforting and familiar walls again, and your senses were flooded with the memories you had created and shared here. You swallowed harshly as you saw Omega’s and Tech’s spaces, but you regained your composure as you walked along the hallway. Your hand traced along the bunk you shared with Hunter and a soft sigh left your lips as you were instantly reminded of the slightly more personal moments you had experienced there.
It felt good to be home.
“Ready?” Hunter asked as you finished in the cockpit. He came beside you and wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you tight to him as Wrecker put the ship in hyperspace.
You nodded. “Let’s go get our girl.”
Next Oneshot>
Tagging: @noeasyisnoisy, @fuckoffthanos, @tpwkcalli, @graciexmarvel, @arctrooper69, @nightmonkeysstuff, @brujaporfavor, @starwarsnerd111, @flyingkangaroo, @sunkissedclones, @ladytano420, @keep-calm-and-drink-caf, @yyourmotherr, @xxeiraxx, @dragonrider9905, @skellymom, @lokigirlszendaya
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forest-hashira · 4 months
Text
Lucky Shot
I'M BACK AGAIN i have just been on a roll with writing lately but you know what? i'm not complaining lol. anyways, this is my second entry to @kentopedia's "Love Through the Ages" collab! you can find my first entry here, but be sure to keep an eye on the masterlist for the other entries!!! this is the first time i've written solo suguru/reader so. be nice to me pls. also plese check out this art by @/diosaurr! i had already started writing this fic when they posted it, but three separate people tagged me in it knowing i was writing the fic so i want everyone else to see it, too!
read on ao3 here | wc: ~2.7k | cw: fem! reader (i know who am i???), outlaw!suguru, saloon girl!reader, gun violence, mentions of blood/injury, mentions of death. if those things will upset you i suggest you give this one a pass!
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Maybe you should have listened to your father after all.
He’d told you countless times that traveling west, especially without a family or close group to help you out and keep your best interests at heart, would be difficult at best and dangerous at worst. Especially for a young unmarried woman such as yourself. 
But you had always been headstrong and stubborn, and your father had always been a worrier, so you assumed he was exaggerating to discourage you, his eldest daughter, from following your dream and going out west. You secretly saved up money for months, and at the first given opportunity to leave your family and head west, you’d taken it, leaving only a goodbye note for your parents and younger siblings when you slipped from the house in the early hours of the morning. 
Turns out, your father wasn’t exaggerating. Joining a party as a solo traveler had proven even more difficult and dangerous than you could have anticipated. You managed to make it out west, just like you wanted, but you had no money to your name, only the clothes on your back and two other outfits in a bag as you walked through the town, wandering from business to business, asking for work; you’d nearly wept with relief when the saloon owner said you looked like you could have some potential as a saloon girl, after you cleaned up. 
He’d provided you a boarding room above the saloon and a new outfit – the ones you had weren’t up to his standards – up front, and while you appreciated it, you also knew he’d be taking that out of your pay until he decided those things were covered, which you could only guess would be never.
Despite the strings that came attached to your new job, things weren’t all bad. You got to know people in the town pretty quickly – the ones that frequented the saloon, anyways – and you were always in the loop about local “news”, most of which was just gossip. 
One character of particular interest in the local gossip was a man named Geto Suguru. When you’d asked what was so interesting about him, you’d gotten some questioning looks, until you’d said you had only just recently moved out west. After you were shown his wanted poster, though, you began to understand. 
He was one of the most – if not the most – attractive man you’d ever seen. Dark hair that fell past his shoulders; thin, almost cat-like eyes; and even in the poster, there was a sly look on his face. 
Not only that, but he was wanted for robbing stagecoaches, stealing money and jewelry from rich people who gave into his – apparently – intimidating presence. He was also known for spending that money generously in towns all over the west supporting local businesses; plenty of women from across the state also bragged about the jewelry he would gift them, simply because he thought it looked good on them. 
After spending weeks hearing stories – that you were certain had to be at least a little exaggerated – about this pretty outlaw and staring at his wanted poster, you resigned yourself to the fact that you would never see him with your own eyes. 
So you couldn’t have been more surprised when you watched the man himself walk into your saloon without any sort of fanfare or dramatics and sit at the bar. 
You stared at him, eyes wide, until he gave you a small smile. 
“I’ve heard you’ll catch flies if you leave your mouth open too long,” he said, smooth voice lilting with amusement. 
Realizing he meant you, you quickly snapped your mouth shut, your whole face burning with embarrassment. “You try meeting a living legend when you’ve only lived in the area for a couple months, see how you react,” you snapped back. When you realized what you’d said, you opened your mouth to apologize, but stopped when you saw the way his eyes sparkled with interest, one perfect brow arched in your direction.
“Feisty, aren’t we?” he chuckled. “I think I like you already, new girl.”
“What do you want to drink?” You turned away from him to grab a glass, hoping he didn’t pick up on how flustered you were over the nickname. 
“Surprise me.”
You straightened at that, and now it was your turn to arch a brow as you looked him over. His expression never wavered, his head tilted slightly as he waited to see what you decided to serve him. 
With a quiet huff, you turned your back to him, looking over your selection of liquors. Part of you wanted to serve him the cheapest, nastiest drink you carried, just to see if he would actually drink it or demand another drink, but ultimately you decided against it. Instead, you reached for the top shelf, grabbing the unopened bottle of some fancy imported scotch your boss had just gotten in a couple days before. 
“Opening a bottle just for me?” Geto asked, still with that playful tone. “Well now I feel special.”
“Don’t make me change my mind,” you threatened, turning as if to put the bottle back in its place. 
He held up his hands, as if in surrender, and you set the bottle down on the bar to grab a glass, though you took a brief moment to admire how strong even just his hands looked. 
Setting the glass in front of him, you broke the seal on the bottle, then intentionally poured him about three times as much of the amber liquid as you were supposed to. Your boss could yell at you about it later. 
Geto lifted the glass, tipping it towards you slightly in thanks, before taking a sip.
Just as you were about to speak to the outlaw in front of you again, the saloon doors swung open in your peripheral vision, and you looked up to see the sheriff walking towards the bar.
“Afternoon, sheriff,” you greeted him, glancing briefly at Geto to see what his reaction was, and you were only a little surprised that he had no reaction at all. “Your usual?”
The sheriff tipped his hat to you, sitting down at the opposite end of the bar from the bandit. “Please and thank you.”
With a nod, you placed the bottle of scotch on the counter behind the bar, then grabbed another glass and the brand of whiskey the sheriff always drank. You walked down the length of the bar, setting the glass in front of him and pouring his drink – the expected amount of liquor for him, unlike the bandit down the bar – before you walked away to put the bottle back. 
You felt hyper-aware of the two customers at the bar, worried that any second now the sheriff would recognize the outlaw and all hell would break loose, especially when the other patrons at the tables in the building were always itching for some sort of fight, just because they thought it was entertaining. 
In the end, though, it wasn’t the sheriff that recognized Geto, it was another customer that walked up to the bar to get another drink.
“You look familiar,” the man drawled, narrowing his eyes as he analyzed Geto’s face as best as his intoxicated mind could manage. 
“I get that a lot,” the outlaw answered evenly, not sparing the man a second glance.
“No, I’ve definitely seen you somewhere before…” he trailed off, scowling, his gaze wandering until it landed on the handful of wanted posters hung on the wall beside the bar. His eyes lit up with recognition, and you swore you felt your heart drop to your stomach.
“You’re that stagecoach robber!” the man exclaimed, turning back to Geto; out of the corner of your eye you saw the sheriff turn to face the commotion.
Shit, this is bad, you thought, placing the man’s beer on the bar in front of him, though he was far beyond caring about the drink anymore.
“I’m pretty sure you have no proof of that.”
“That’s your face on the poster,” the man insisted, then turned his attention to you. “Don’t you think?” 
“It looks like it could be a lot of people,” you replied lamely, grimacing at how obvious of a lie it was.
The man scowled at you. “Shoulda known better than t’ask a whore,” he spat, slurring his words a bit. “Whores always lie.”
Almost before he finished speaking, Geto grabbed the man’s collar and slammed his face down onto the bar. “Apologize to her,” he said, voice calm but eyes sharp with anger. 
You blinked in surprise at what had just happened, and once you processed what had been said to you, you found that you were quite offended, and also quite pleased that this outlaw had taken up for you so quickly. 
“Like hell!” the man protested, struggling against Geto’s hold. Even with his head forcibly pressed to the bar top, though, the man managed to pull his gun from his holster. 
The scene before you seemed to slow impossibly for a moment: the sound of the gun cocking, seeing it aimed at Geto, the man’s finger going for the trigger. Then suddenly everything was back to normal speed, and the outlaw used his free hand to shove the gun to no longer be aimed at him just as the trigger was pulled. 
You turned your head to see where it landed, and you watched in horror as a wound burst into existence in the sheriff’s shoulder, blood soaking into his shirt in an instant. He let out a shout of pain, clutching at the wound with his hand.
“You rat bastard!” the man shouted, working to cock his gun and aim it at Geto again, but the outlaw was quicker, pulling out his own gun, pressing it to the man’s ribs, and shooting him almost before you could process what he was doing. 
There was a wet gasping sound from the man, and when Geto’s hold on his collar was finally released, he dropped unceremoniously to the floor, his gun sliding out of his hand. You couldn’t tell if he was dead yet or not, but he certainly wasn’t making any effort to get off the floor.
Out of the corner of your eye, you could see the sheriff draw his own gun and aim it, but it was in his non-dominant hand, so the bullet did not hit the robber as the sheriff intended; instead, it shattered the whiskey glass on the bar in front of you, and you dropped to the ground in fear.
With your hands over your head, you kept as low as you could. You couldn’t see what was happening anymore, but from what you could hear, at least half of the other patrons of the saloon had joined in the gunfight. Stray bullets hit the wall behind the bar, shattering multiple bottles of liquor, including the fancy bottle of scotch. My boss is going to be so pissed, you thought, an oddly practical thought to have in the midst of hiding and praying you weren’t accidentally shot.
Almost as if summoned by your thoughts, a bullet tore through the front of the bar, sticking in the cabinet about six inches from your head. With a shriek, you scrambled aside, towards the end of the bar; maybe if you were lucky, there would be time for you to slip out of the building without being caught in the crossfire. 
You scanned the building as quickly as you could while keeping yourself hidden, not wanting to make yourself any more of a target than you already were. Bullets were still flying, leaving no chance for your escape, and you cursed under your breath; you were going to be stuck here until everyone ran out of ammo. 
As you looked around, you noticed the first man that Geto had shot, a pool of blood slowly growing beneath his torso. His chest still rose and fell slightly, but his eyes were glassy; he was alive, but he was not long for this world. Suddenly, you remembered that he had dropped his gun when he had fallen, and you scanned the area around him for it, finding it a foot or so from his outstretched hand.
Deciding to run the risk of getting shot, you lunged for it, gripping it tightly in your hand once it was in your grasp. You’d never held a gun in your life, much less shot one, but having this one in your possession made you feel a little less cornered, a little less helpless.
Daring a glance upward, you saw that Geto had turned so that his back was to you and another corner of the saloon. Another patron had somehow managed to sneak around into the outlaw’s blind spot, and was clearly gearing up to shoot him in the back of the head. Knowing you couldn’t just sit there and watch it happen, you fumbled with the gun, your sweaty hands failing to pull back the hammer twice before you succeeded. With no clue how to accurately aim the weapon, you pointed it at his leg, squeezing your eyes shut as you pulled the trigger.
A shout of pain a moment later indicated that you had hit… someone, and you quickly opened your eyes again to make sure you hadn’t somehow hit Geto by accident. Thankfully, you hadn’t. The man you’d been aiming at had taken the shot to his knee – which actually had been what you were hoping to hit when you fired – bringing him down to the floor on one knee.
The shout was enough to alert the outlaw to the threat behind him, and he wasted no time spinning around and drilling him between the eyes. He slipped his guns – you saw now that he had two, rather than one like you had first thought – back into their holsters as the last man’s body dropped to the floor.
Once there was no longer another person blocking you from his view, Geto blinked in surprise, smiling as he stepped over the body and crouched down in front of you.
“You shot him?” he asked, his eyes glinting. The sight made you realize you’d been wrong before, when you’d thought his eyes were catlike in his wanted poster; in person they were foxlike, sharp and intelligent and clever.
“I-I, uh… yeah, I shot him.”
“Have you ever fired a gun before?”
“Not until just now.”
He glanced over his shoulder, taking in the bulletwound squarely in the side of the man’s knee. “You’re a good shot,” he observed, turning back to face you.
“Uh… thanks?”
He chuckled then, a low, smooth sound that made your stomach cartwheel. “You’re welcome.” A beat passed, then another, as he examined your face, though you were unsure what he was looking for. 
“What?” you demanded, scowling at him despite the way your hands were still shaking.
“You should come with me.”
“Huh?”
“You should come with me,” Geto repeated easily. “I think you’d be a good addition to my crew. Besides, it really won’t be a good look for you if people come in and see you here with a gun after I get the hell out of here.” There was a slight smirk tugging at his lips, and despite the fact that you probably should have taken his words as a threat, you didn’t.
“What the hell,” you sighed. “It’s not like I have anyone keeping me here.”
“Wonderful,” he said, offering you a hand up off the floor, which you readily accepted. “Get what you need from your room and meet me outside. Be quick, my guess is that someone will come to investigate all the noise sooner rather than later.”
You nodded, brushing broken glass from your dress and your hair as you hurried towards the stairs, unable to hide the grin tugging at your own lips.
Maybe not listening to your father had been the right decision after all.
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tagging: @kentopedia @kentohours @mitsuristoleme
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banquetwriter · 28 days
Note
this might be too angsty 😭
but can you do one where the reader has chronic anxiety and is literally house bound most of the time because of how bad it gets and johnnie just helps them through it
୨୧ brittle breathes ୨୧
pairing: Johnnie Guilbert ♡︎ Reader
warnings: ୭̥⋆*。 panic attacks, extreme anxiety 
summary: ʚ reader’s chronic anxiety binds them to their house but Johnnie is able to save them ɞ
Words: 1452
An: sorry it's taking me so long to write i can't help it lol 
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Every day has felt the same to you. You wake up and immediately doom scroll on your phone. Your brain is hyper-fixating on every bad comment you receive. You eventually get off Twitter and turn on YouTube. The torment doesn't end there.
You turn on someone who has consistent uploads, better looking than you, and overall is just better at your job. You feel so sick. Constantly nausea, your hands and feet are freezing, and your brain seems like you mushed it into pieces. 
It had been weeks since you had last uploaded on your channel. It wasn't so bad at first. You felt less anxious at home so you just stayed in more. Unfortunately, it has its talons in you. You could never leave the house anymore.
You were sitting on the couch in sweatpants and a sweatshirt. You hadn't gotten ready in weeks either, posting the occasional post on your Instagram story of something random. 
It wasn't like your fans hadn't noticed, hell everyone in your life had noticed. Your boyfriend Johnnie had asked what was going on with you lately, and he saw it. Of course, he saw it. The light in your eyes slowly dimmed. 
The way you wouldn't do anything anymore. Your interest didn't excite you anymore, you never ate anymore, and the most worrying thing was you'd stopped hanging out with him. 
He knew how hard anxiety could be on a person and how he wanted to help but he also knew how fragile people can be in this head space.
You had dried tears staining your cheeks as you scrolled through Twitter. You were looking at any tweet with your name involved in it. You were just a sad little lump on the couch. It was pathetic really. 
Your heart jumped as a notification went through that Johnnie started a live stream on Twitch. You had forgotten he was going to stream tonight. You clicked on it saying hi in chat. 
“Ahh fuck my settings are all messed up hold on guys,” Johnnie mumbled moving closer to his screen and clicking around. You giggle watching his fans say hi to you in chat. “Alright sorry guys,” he says, sitting up and looking at the chat. 
“Wait, is y/n in chat? A bunch of people are saying hi,” he says looking at the chat zoom bye. You smile to yourself already feeling calmer just by listening to his voice. “Yes, I am ¯\_(ツ)_/¯” you type in the chat. You watch him read the chat and smile to himself. 
He hides his blush by putting his hand over his mouth. The whole interaction made you giggle. He was the only thing that ever made you feel good anymore. You knew that wasn't healthy but you couldn't help it. You texted a black heart emoji to Johnnie.
You sat and watched the stream for a bit longer at some point while Johnnie stopped for a second to respond to your text. ‘Love you nerd’ he said with a heart emoji as well. He smiled down at his phone before realizing he was still streaming and had to keep them entertained. 
He came to a slow point in his stream so he looked over at his chat. “Why isn't y/n posting?” he asked, reading a fan’s words. Your heart skipped a beat. “Um, they are just having a hard time right now. They will be back soon though don't worry,” he answers, it was a true statement.
It just stung that your fans were reaching out to him about you. Johnnie would never make you feel guilty about this of course he understood, it's just you felt like such a burden on him because of this. 
You snapped back into reality, Johnnie had continued his stream and the chat slowly moved on from the topic. You had to do something about this. It was consuming your life.
You swiped away from Twitch and pulled up your messages with Johnnie. ‘Can you come over after the stream?’ you asked. If you were going to get out of this you were going to need help to do it. You had the stream pulled back up again. 
Johnnie was looking down at your phone. ‘I will get an Uber right now.’ was a text Johnnie sent you. You sat up reading the message on the top of your screen. “Hey guys I'm actually going to have to end stream early,” he said looking up from his phone.
You watched the chat as they started to freak out at the sudden end. Well, this wasn't how you wanted things to go. “Everything is ok. I just realized I have something to do.” he murmurs closing all the tabs on his computer going to full screen.
You turn the stream off, your heart pounding. Guilt flooding your veins. You stood up only worsening your dizzy state. You fumbled into the kitchen grabbing a glass of water. You failed, however.
You never made it to the sink. Your brain is racing and your mind is melting. A panic attack flows over your bones and into your soul. Your phone is lost somewhere you don't remember. 
Your breath in rapid paces as you can't make anything out. The lack of oxygen fuels your state. Tears start to pool out of your eyes, you start to sob. The crying mixed with the rapid breath causes you to lose all the air you had.
You can't breathe anymore. Any semblance of being able to return to normal is gone. You fall onto your hands and knees scratching at your throat in immense panic. You try to scream or kick or anything that can save you. 
You don't even hear when Johnnie uses the key you gave him to enter your home. Finding you thrashing on your kitchen floor, tears falling from your eyes. “Y/n?” he yells dropping to the floor with you. 
“What's wrong?” he yells trying to see your face. He manages to grab the side of your face and hold it up. “Can't… breathe,” you mumble, your face starting to lose color. 
“You're ok,” he says looking at you. He isn't able to say it with much conviction. His words betrayed his face as it flooded with worry. You try and fail to return your breathing to normal. Johnnie sees you struggle. 
“Try and follow mine,” he says, unsure of how to help you. You nod your head trying to listen to his breathing. It wasn't any use if you couldn't hear him properly. You hold your hand on his chest, you can feel his exhale and inhale. You could feel his lungs fill with air. 
You tried your best to mimic him. Closing your eyes eventually works. Eventually, you feel your worry melt away, like snow when the weather warms up. It leaves and melts from your body.
Your body relaxes and the tension falls. Johnnie watches as you slowly return back to normal. He brings his hand up to your face and holds you close. You lean into his touch. Your body is slouching.
He wraps his arms around you, holding your body up. “Johnnie?” you ask quietly. The tiredness ebs its way into your body. “Yeah? I'm here. I'm here.” he says slowly. “I need your help. Or someone's I'm not sure. I don't think I can trust anyone else with this.” you whispered to him.
“What's wrong? What can I do?” he asks, moving the hair that fell into your face away. “I have been rotted away by anxiety. I can't leave my house, I can't eat, I cannot do anything anymore. I haven't posted in god knows how long.” you cry standing up and away from him.
He sits up to watch you pace through your apartment. “I can't eat or sleep or talk to anyone without my entire world collapsing. Which isn't helping, it's just making me more anxious.” you cry, pulling at the sides of your face in frustration. 
“What can I do? How can I help you?” he asks while walking up to you. You stop your pacing, before abruptly pulling him into a hug. “I need to start seeing a therapist or something else, I need you to help me,” you whispered into his ear. 
He pulls away, only a little, to see your face. “We can do that for you. I'm sure it's going to get better if you start slowly, ok?” he whispers back. You smile at him sweetly. 
It was going to be hard but little by little you were going to take your life back. You were going to be able to do it with Johnnie. 
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nebula-blitzar · 4 months
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Just kinda in the mood to post this so like
There’s a lot of rumors and speculations on how Fizz and Oz met and when so I thought I would share my personal theory.
I think when the incident first occurred, Mam freaked the fuck out because he had just signed a contract, had been doing work for him on the side, and made him lots of money. So Mam calls up Oz and asks him for prosthetics for cheap. They were decent quality (especially for the price,) and Oz had written instructions and stuck them to the prosthetics so Mam would see them. Mam, being the lazy ass he is, threw them away and just gave Fizz the prosthetics, with no guidance on how to use them.
Now Fizz was further indebted to Mammon, so he couldn’t really leave. He worked full time for him, and was still paid as much as he needed to get by (decent apartment, food). At some point along this timeline, Mam also had Asmodeus make the Fizz-bots, which lightened the load. But Fizz’s performances became more intense, and further put stress on him.
I do want to note I have a theory that imps with irises (all the time) have chronic anxiety or other problems. Since other imps’ irises only appear when they’re upset in some way, shape, or form. So that would be Barb, Blitzø, and Fizz. Cash didn’t have irises, but Tilla did, and since she was sick and shit, it kinda makes sense.
So with all of this stuff happening to Fizz and around Fizz with no one to help him, he had worsened anxiety. But he kept performing since he felt so indebted to Mammon. Around the four and a quarter year mark, Fizz started to feel some pain where his limbs were attached to his body. So he asked Mammon. Mam, being the asshole he is, said no, obviously, so he just kinda..kept performing through the pain.
Since the pain was persistent enough to get in the way of Fizz’s performances, he kept asking Mammon. Finally, Mam let him go do it so he would shut up about it. So Fizz and Oz finally got to meet in person, and they learned the problem was basically some pretty severe friction burns from not wearing them properly (y’know since Mam threw the instructions away) and so Oz was pissed about Mammon not listening to him (as always) and wanted to call him to give him a piece of his mind.
Fizz stops him, saying it’s a bad idea, and that Fizz will get in more trouble, so he doesn’t call Mam.
Then Fizz leaves, and Oz goes back to work, but not without texting Bee asking if they can meet up (if you don’t hc Bee and Ozzie as friends we can’t be friends/j) sometime soon. Bee is obviously like totes dude and a few days later, they meet up.
Oz asked to hang out to consult Bee on the fact he kinda had a crush on Fizz, Bee is super excited (duh) and is like tell me everything they talk more and come to the conclusion Oz has a genuine crush, and him and Fizz should talk more.
Oz doesn’t want to be awkward and text Fizz just to talk, but lucky for him, a few weeks later, Fizz applies for a job application at Ozzie’s, cause he wants to be able to afford some luxuries, and for that he needs more money, and Mammons not gonna give him a pay raise. Since Fizz actually is a really good fit for the job, he gets it.
Anyway the pair get really close both business wise and friend wise, and Fizz does more shifts at Ozzie’s. Mam isn’t actually that mad since he has the Fizz-Bots to perform, advertise and sell.
At some point near the five year mark, the pair kiss, and while both sides enjoy it, it keeps both of them up late. So the next day after Ozzie’s closes they talk it out and end up accidentally confessing their feeling to each other.
So yeah that’s first meeting, how they got together, and why they got to know each other. I am writing a fanfic about this in more detail, and this is probably not the last time I mention this theory, so stay tuned!
Ps thanks for reading this long ass rant lol
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datura-tea · 5 months
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holy shit this year marks 10 years of this blog and moz!! i can't remember the exact date i started posting here - my archive says i have one post from november 2013 but let's disregard that - but i do remember it was around late 2014/early 2015 :)
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^ one of the very first moz art pieces i ever drew, for fallout week 2015!!
memories and art through the years under a read more bc it got long
2014 → baby's first rpg!! i started playing fnv on my cousin's jailbroken xbox late 2013 and finished mid 2014 and i loved every minute of it. i remember waking up at 8am and playing almost nonstop until 2am the next day haha!
i didn't play moz on my first playthrough - but i did start creating a character that would eventually become her: a shorthaired ex-boxer who punched her way through obstacles when diplomacy failed. i remember she spent a lot of time with boone. i liked him then, because he saved my ass more times than i can count. but i digress. this is draft 1 moz essentially
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2015 → this is the year that i was doing my thesis so i could graduate but i was so depressed and stressed about it that i distracted myself by replaying fnv on pc, where i played through the dlcs for the first time. i fell in love with the dlcs' oversarching story; particularly ulysses, who i became obssessed with, especially since i couldn't find any content of him at the time. in the game, i played as moz; i had most of her personality and choices down, but her backstory was still up in the air.
fun fact: this was an existing sideblog that i remade to be a fallout blog so i could look for ulysses content, and when i couldn't find any, i made some myself, featuring moz as my main courier six. originally, i didn't ship them, but eventually i ended the year as a courier/ulysses otp shipper.
this was the year i started drawing digitally - my uncle let me borrow a drawing tablet and i used an old copy of photoshop i pirated hehe
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2016 → i graduated this year!! and promptly fell deeper into my depression. this was the year that it got so bad that i had to be medicated. through it all, this blog and moz and ulysses and my fandom friends were with me. and for that i am truly grateful :) this was the year i figured out how to lock transparent pixels so that i could color my lineart lol
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2017 → i started hammering out moz's backstory this year i think. there's a lot of sketches of her and her family in my files. i experimented with shading and backgrounds here but that experimentation was pretty short-lived
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2018 → i started using references seriously!!!! i did a lot of oc on oc kissing this year, featuring mostly moz and many friend ocs haha
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2019 → didn't draw much this year. actually this year was a blur and i can't remember much from it except from it being the year of my terrible no good bad copywriting jobs... anyway i did manage to continue my courier/ulysses brainrot and make this piece, which i'm still proud of
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2020 → pandemic time. i spent a lot of time asleep at home and i think this was also the year i started doing commissions?? shoutout to anyone who has ever commissioned me - thank you so much, i truly appreciate it!!
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2021 → i switched from my old-ass pirated photoshop to clip studio paint and never looked back. also i did a bunch of commissions for my grandmother's surgery, which failed, and i distracted myself from the sadness by drawing my ocs over and over and playing disco elysium
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2022 → by this year, i've got moz down pat and have started vaguely developing other ocs instead. but she's still always at the back of my mind
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2023 → i bought new brushes from true grit texture supply and immediately found new favorites that i started using for everything. i tentatively started incorporating background elements in some pieces!
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2024 → while it's still too early to say where this year will lead me art-wise, i will say that i started experimenting in realistic paint studio (which i bought in 2021, the same time as clip studio paint) a few days ago and i'm liking the results so far. we'll see!
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all in all, these last 10 years have been quite a ride, but i'm glad i stuck around and i'm glad you guys stuck around too!! much much love 💖💖💖
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theragethatisdesire · 11 months
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much ado about nothing chapter 5 - plug!eren x reader - 18+!!!
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DISCLAIMER: this post contains MATURE CONTENT that is intended only for those over 18. minors and ageless blogs, please do not read below the cut.
i have successfully kicked my writer's block to the curb and am ready to pick back up on plug!eren!!!! woohoo!! this is the part of the story where it gets really plot heavy and there's a lot of moving parts, so it's been a fun exercise to write and brainstorm. if anything is confusing or u have any theories/questions PLEASE hit my inbox i'm so down bad for plug eren i could talk about him for days.
get ready to meet a new character who is......not the best lol. this is also the first chapter written in eren's pov :o things are about to get interesting!
still haven't caught up? series masterlist HERE <3
specific cws: mentions of smut but nothing outright, alcohol use, swearing, u know the drill
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“If music be the food of love, play on. / Give me excess of it, that, surfeiting, / The appetite may sicken and so die.” - Twelfth Night by William Shakespeare (Act I, Scene 1)
Eren is, admittedly, a romantic person, especially given his occupation. Not romantic in the cheesy, buying-flowers and kissing-in-the-rain sense, but he appreciates the little details of life. He loves autumn, when the leaves catch on fire with the changing of the season. He loves the little crook of a woman’s neck, that slope where it goes from tendon to shoulder to collarbone. He can appreciate a good bourbon; after years of raiding his dad’s stash, he developed a palate for it early on. Eren’s romantic nature leads him to believe in signs. When the universe tells him something, he listens.
The text still sat in his inbox unopened, marinating in its own bizarre, heartbreaking nature.
> heyyyy lover boy! i’m back from austria! missed u, let’s catch up ;)
Eren knows that Breeze knows him, knows him well enough to understand that his three-week radio silence isn’t a no, it’s a maybe. He hates himself for not immediately texting her back and telling her to fuck off, but after his conversation with you, he thinks it might be the universe telling him it’s safe this time, that he won’t end up a shell of himself. Maybe.
You had been firm in your assertion that you and Eren were better off as friends, and as much as he wanted to fight it, Eren respects women. As much as he can when he’s prone to wrenching their jaws open and spitting in their mouths while he’s balls deep inside them, at least. He’s disappointed, but he respects it, and if he’s honest, he likes you.
He likes your sharp humor, likes the way you tend to keep your hair up off of your neck, likes the way your eyes light up when someone gives you an excuse to talk about your studies. He hasn’t been “just friends” with a woman in a long time, but it’s refreshing, an excuse to go grab a coffee and shoot the shit like a normal person instead of lurking in the corner of a frat party handing out pills like a perverse ice cream truck.
The last three weeks of “friends” have been the best Eren’s had in a long time. You’re easy, that’s what he likes about you. He can drop the cold mask he wears so often, giggle over a stupid meme, listen intently as you prattle on about some long-dead 18th-century author that was “so ahead of her time!”, smirk when you chastise him for doodling little hearts and flowers all over your coursework.
Sure, he still steals a glance down your shirt when he can, and he’d never admit it, but he thinks about you late at night. He thinks about you when he’s in the shower, when he’s got himself in his hand, panting and swearing under his breath, but he manages to feel enough guilt over it to still consider you a friend. You’re caring and considerate and easy, wholesome fun, unlike someone that’s made a sudden reappearance into his life.
After that first night, just when he was starting to entertain the thought of promoting you from one night stand to official fuck buddy, the closest thing to commitment Eren allows himself to maintain these days, Breeze swept back into his life, and you hit the brakes on him. While it may not have been the sign he wanted to receive, Eren’s a romantic, and he listens to the universe, especially when it goes so far out of its way to tell him something.
He’s decided to let Breeze stew for a little while longer. Campus will be clearing out for Thanksgiving break soon, along with most of his business, and he’s going to wait until his hands are empty of work and you before answering her. Plus, she had flitted off to Europe after college like their entire relationship had been nothing more than a passing phase; Eren’s owed at least a little bit of pettiness, right?
> paradise ath 1130! see uthere ;)
Eren snorts at your text. Being as uptight as you are about grammar (you’re constantly hounding him about his texting style, and he’s been making them even more incorrect just to hear you berate him), he knows you’re not just texting quickly, you’re drunk.
“Yo, ‘min!” Eren calls into the kitchen, an excited flutter already rising in his chest beneath his hoodie.
“Yeah?” Armin’s head pops around the doorframe, a dab of ketchup on the corner of his mouth.
“Wanna go to Paradise later?”
“The club?” Armin’s nose wrinkles. Connie’s head appears right beside Armin, a wide grin splitting his face.
“Oh, hell yeah,” Connie answers for both of them before Armin has the chance to shoot the idea down, “who’s going?”
“Like you don’t know the answer to that,” Armin scoffs, ducking back into the kitchen with a roll of his eyes.
“I never took her for a ‘club’ type of girl,” Connie adds air-quotes to emphasize his confusion.
Eren mulls that over for a moment; he doesn’t really take you for a club type of girl either, but from the sound of it, Historia and Sasha have already done the job of getting you good and drunk and talking you into a night on the town. Eren’s always wanted to see what you’re like when you’re well and truly fucked up; every time you indulge him with a story from college, he ends up laughing so hard he’s clutching his stomach and gasping for breath.
Supposedly, when you go all out, you drop the mom-friend act and become a little less tame; is this Eren’s opportunity to get an eyeful for himself? He’s not waiting around to find out.
Eren shrugs. “Come help me make these runs and we’ll go. Armin, you’re driving.”
The drop-offs are uneventful, and as soon as Eren steps foot inside the club, his nose scrunches with distaste. Ironically, he’s never been into the partying scene, much preferring a quiet beer at Scout’s or a blunt on the couch to a club. The music’s horribly loud, bass thudding through the fabric of his hoodie and beating against his chest, and as he looks for you, he can barely see through the mass of bodies and the fog machines. You’re here? It’s difficult for Eren to imagine you, in your favorite flannel and those cute little Vans he likes, tucked against the bar throwing back your signature craft beer. As Connie urges him and Armin in the direction of the bar, calling for green tea shots, Eren nearly regrets his decision, until fingernails dig into his shoulder, spinning him on his heels.
“Hey, you.”
Eren blinks stupidly as you grin up at him through thick, black lashes. He’s never even dared to imagine you like you are now, piercing eyes gazing up at him through a heavy dusting of makeup and the shortest, tightest dress Eren’s ever seen hugging every inch of your curves. You look sinful in a way he’s never seen you before, not even when he was holding you tight to him and wrenching out orgasm after orgasm from your body. He gulps.
“Holy shit– hey,” he lets you pull him in for an overexcited hug, bites down on the inside of his cheek to distract himself from the bulge already swelling in his pants.
“I missed you!” You pinch his cheeks, much to Eren’s dismay.
“Just saw you yesterday– quit pinchin’ me. What are you even doing here? Didn’t think this was your scene.” Eren has to actively keep his eyes trained on your face; there’s a little bead of sweat traveling down the expanse of skin between your breasts that’s making his mouth water. Friends, he scoffs in his mind. Are you trying to kill him?
“Well, it’s not, but Sasha says I need to be more fun, and Stor says I need to find a boyfriend.” You gesture around like it’s obvious. Eren cocks an eyebrow, ignoring the inappropriate envy that twists in his stomach at the mention of the word ‘boyfriend’.
Boyfriends never like the guy friends, it’s practically a law of nature. If you’re dating around, it’s only a matter of time before some square in a button-down steals you away from your coffee dates and movie nights with Eren, but he can’t get too caught up in that now, not when you’re looking up at him all dizzy and sexy and bursting at the seams.
“Don’t know if this is the place for that.”
“That’s what I said!” Oh, you’re drunk drunk, all of your movements overexaggerated and shaky. It makes him want to laugh seeing you like this; his little book nerd, trashed and mere inches away from having her ass out at a club. Well, either laugh or drag you into the bathroom to bend you over the sink. He can’t be sure.
“Hey mama!” Connie shouts over at you, handing you a shot. Eren has half a mind to snatch it out of his hand after catching the slurring in your voice, but he’s too late; you throw it back without so much as a shudder, grinning all wide and wet and pretty when you swallow.
“I didn’t think you’d actually show up,” you tell him, pulling him down by his collar so you can speak into his ear. Eren has to bite back a groan at the feel of your hot lips against his ear. Friends, he reminds himself urgently, pushing you back from him but keeping his hands firm on your hips, relishing in the way your flesh gives under his grip.
“You know the rules. You call, I come.”
“That’s what she said,” you snicker, pinching his cheek again.
“Cut that out!”
“Make me.” Oh fuck, Eren’s going to die. He’s going to die if you keep looking at him like that, bottom lip tucked between your teeth and fuck-me eyes on him.
“You’re not being very friendly,” he manages to choke out, trying his hardest to give you a suspicious look through the dizzying wave of images that flash through his brain. You with your mouth full of him. You spread out on his bed, back arched and fingers twisted in his hair. The little “o” your mouth made when you rode him for the first time. Eren wants to smack himself, jump in a cold shower, something. Get a grip, dude.
“Maybe not,” you shrug, eyes darting over to the bar. “Hurry up and grab a drink, I wanna dance.”
“Not much of a dancer,” Eren admits, taking the beer that Connie hands him.
“Don’t worry, I’ll do all the work.”
Eren isn’t sure if he likes or loves the sound of that, powerless against that stupid little dress you’ve got on as you drag him behind you to the mass of bodies he had so disdainfully eyed on his way in. He’s greeted by a loud round of shrieking, one more pinch to the cheek by Historia and a slap on the ass from Sasha. You make a show of teasing him for how pink his face gets, but luckily, your friends are instantly distracted by Armin and Connie’s arrival right behind him. You pull him back down, glossy lips pressed right against his ear.
“I really like this song.” You’re barely audible over the pounding music, but even if Eren hadn’t heard what you said, he’d get the gist from the way you grind against his thigh, slow and sensual. Maybe you are actually trying to kill him.
“Yeah?” He’s breathless, irreparably and embarrassingly caught in the little web you’ve woven.
“Yeah.” You’re moving harder against him now, throwing your arms around his neck and grinding your hips into his. Eren’s only thought is to let his hands fly back to your hips, let you use him like a stripper pole to show off.
He can feel eyes on him, not the eyes of friends, but of other men around him, wondering who the lucky asshole is that’s getting the royal treatment from a girl as hot as you. If he were to be truthful, it’s getting him off, how every eye is on you and, by proxy, him, holding you like a lifeline as you let the beat rock through your body.
So this, this is the party girl you claim to have living deep inside you. This seductive, electric creature moving tantalizing against his body, this is the source of the stories Historia tells him that make you blush? How you could ever be embarrassed of this is beyond him; you’re like a little devil, sent straight from hell just to torture him, and Eren’s mouth is watering.
Song after song goes by, and you don’t let up, don’t let him catch his breath for a moment, moving from facing him to pressing your ass into his crotch and then back again, arms above your head or wrapped around his neck. Eren wishes he was mentally sound enough at the moment to feel ashamed that you can absolutely feel how hard he is through his pants right now, but he’s drunk on you, letting you press into him so insistently he has to tug your dress down for you, letting you drive him so crazy that he’s grateful for the loud music now. He’d die if Connie or Armin could hear the way he’s grunting and groaning low under his breath, powerless underneath you.
Suddenly, as if you haven’t just been riling him up for the last half hour, you back away enough to face him, shaking your empty cup and him and mouthing something that Eren’s still too dizzy to make out.
“Huh?”
“Get me another drink!” you shout over the bass, laughing at him.
Eren nods stupidly, darting away from you before he can grab your jaw, pull your lips to his like he so desperately wants to. Finally out of the throng of bodies, he can feel his head clearing, some semblance of sanity crashing over him. What the fuck has gotten into him? It was just one night, and you’ve kept him at arm’s length ever since, only seeing each other under the guise of coffee, or a beer, or Eren insisting you need to continue your education in the wonders of horror films. You’re drunk, that’s the only explanation; drunk and teasing him like you aren’t going to wake up and throw him right back into the friendzone. He rests both elbows on the bar, shaking his head like he’ll be able to knock some sense into himself if he rattles his brain around a little.
Eren orders your vodka soda and a beer and a shot for himself, something to clear his head and keep his blood pressure manageable. Hopefully, at least.
When he turns around, drinks in hand, that plan flies out the door. There you are, center of the dance floor, hands above your head and hips moving like you’re intentionally trying to make him lose his fucking mind. He tilts his head in interest when a man approaches you, grazes his hands over your hips like he means to start grinding against you. Eren can feel his own hands tightening around the bottle and the plastic cup in his hand, but he holds himself back; he’s got no claim on you, and if you’re willing to entertain the man (who, if you ask Eren, is way below your standards), who is Eren to stop you?
You surprise him in the best way: when the man touches you lightly, you whip around, brows furrowed and a little glitter in your eyes so mean that even Eren nearly flinches. He can’t read your lips in the low light, but he snorts to himself anyway as the man puts his hands up and backs away from you, eyes wide. As if nothing had happened, you spin back on your heel, facing a cackling Sasha with a shrug.
Eren feels a wide, proud smile blooming on his face. As much as he feels an unwarranted protectiveness towards you, he likes watching you get your teeth out and stand up for yourself. Before he can make his way back over to tease you, a voice from his left makes his blood run cold.
“Rennie?!”
Two thin arms are tossed around his neck before Eren can even respond, the familiar scent of vanilla and coconut enveloping him.
“Breeze?” Eren chokes out, too shocked to keep his composure. She pulls away from him and grins, a little diamond glittering from her right canine tooth.
“You didn’t text me back, you tease,” she swats at his chest, snags the vodka soda he’d bought for you right out of his hand, taking a sip. Eren takes the opportunity to swallow hard around the lump in his throat, one last tentative glance towards you before he turns his gaze back to Breeze.
She’s cut her hair, something short and choppy that swings around her ears, and fuck, she’s still just as pretty as he remembers, little freckles on her button nose visible in the darkness of the club.
“Didn’t think you wanted to see me,” Eren shrugs, forcing his face to remain schooled into one of cold apathy. She had left him, like he was nothing to her. He hates her, he realizes, god, he hates her so much it burns in his veins. Breeze cocks her head, frowning.
“Why would you think that?”
“You fucking left me, Breeze, don’t be stupid,” Eren makes a move to steal the drink back from her, but she holds it close enough to her chest that he’d have to practically grope her to take it, and his fingers recoil at the realization.
“Are you double-fisting, or did you buy this for someone special?” She teases, brushing right over Eren’s bristly demeanor. When he doesn’t answer, she raises her eyebrows. “It’s for someone. Well, point her out! Is she cute?”
Breeze turns on her heel, standing on her tiptoes to glance through the crowd. Before he can stop himself, Eren’s grabbing her upper arm, spinning her back to face him with anger blazing in his eyes. When he meets her gaze, her baby blues are alight with mischief, and he knows that no matter which direction he moves, he’s losing whatever little game she has him trapped in. That was the thing about Breeze; Eren was always losing her games.
“Fuck, just…just stop it, Breeze. What are you even doing here?”
“I’m back in town, didn’t you see my text?” Breeze shrugs innocently, sipping your drink.
“Okay, well, welcome back,” Eren deadpans, leaving her question hanging in the air between them. He turns back to the bar to order another cocktail for you, having given up hope of getting the first one back from Breeze, but she’s relentless, has always been that way. She slides up to the bar beside him, smiling demurely up at him.
“I missed you, you know.”
“Wouldn’t have guessed,” Eren scoffs, rolling his eyes. Breeze flinches, but Eren knows her better than that. It’s all an act, it always is.
“I never realized how much I hurt you,” her fingers grazing over his cheek nearly burn with how cold they are in contrast to the heavy, thick air around them, “‘m sorry, Rennie.”
“It’s fine.” Eren hates the way he twitches and nearly leans into her touch when she swipes her fingers over him. How many times has he thought about this, seeing her again after all these years? Everything he’s planned out, everything he’s ever wanted to say is lodged in his throat, a jumble of letters and words so squished out of order that they no longer hold meaning. He doesn’t love her, not anymore, but his body reacts before his brain can stop it, a conditioned response.
“Can we talk about it soon? Maybe over coffee?” Blue eyes blinking up at him earnestly.
“There’s nothing to talk about, Breeze,” Eren rolls his eyes, swallowing thick around the knot in his throat.
“There is,” she insists, “I brought this amazing espresso blend back with me from Florence, and–”
“If I say yes, will you leave me alone for tonight?” Eren can feel the exasperation in his tone, can feel the weight of his mistake weighing on his shoulders. It’s fine, he tells himself, he’ll make up some excuse and get out of it. A long conversation with Breeze about their breakup is the last thing he needs.
“Maybe,” Breeze tucks her lip in between her teeth, a little smile playing at the corner of her mouth, “unless you change your mind.”
“We can talk or whatever another time, but I’m going back to my friends, okay? Go find yours.”
“You’re my friend,” Breeze purrs, one hand stroking over Eren’s bicep, “and I haven’ seen you int–”
“Don’t push it,” Eren nearly growls, scowling down at her. He knows half of the hatred buzzing through his veins is reserved for himself, but he’ll unpack that at home with a blunt, not in the middle of the club with you waiting for him on the dance floor and Breeze staring up at him hungrily.
“Always wound so tight,” Breeze hums, reaching a hand up to squish his cheeks, “but fine. I’ll see you soon.”
She miraculously leaves him there with nothing but a wink, taking your vodka soda with her; Eren’s shoulders slump in relief. Knowing Breeze, it was a wonder she hadn’t tackled him right there. When he turns around for the second time, two drinks in hand, you’re already staring at him. Shit.
You don’t look mad– and why would you be? You’re friends, Eren reminds himself. There’s no reason for you to know who Breeze is; he’s never told you about her, and he never planned on doing so. Eren knows Historia, though, well enough to believe that she told you everything from the godforsaken moment he walked into your apartment that day. 
He doesn’t like that look you’ve got, though; again, not mad, but he can see the gears turning behind your eyes. Eren has to practically force himself to walk towards you. Your head’s cocked in confusion, something watery and hesitant glimmering in your eyes through the low lighting. If he didn’t know better, he’d say you almost look hurt, but that wouldn’t be fair, would it? You didn’t want him, you had made that abundantly clear.
“Sorry it took me a while. Long line.” Eren hands you your drink, nearly wincing at how naturally the clearly false statement rolls off his tongue.
“Mhm,” you nod, downing nearly half of your drink in one long slurp. Your movements aren’t fluid and dynamic anymore; you’re stiff as a board, bouncing back and forth on the balls of your feet along to the beat of the song. “I…I actually have to pee, do you mind holding this?”
“Now?” Eren blinks, confused. “I just got your drink.”
You offer him a tight smile. “I wanted to wait ‘til you were back, so you could watch my drink. And so you didn’t think I ran off on you or something.”
“Oh, yeah, go ahead.”
He watches you slink away into the crowd, watches the dozens of eyes follow you, surely wondering what happened to the little firecracker in the middle of the dance floor. Eren knows you get like this sometimes, suddenly pensive and nostalgic, knows that per your own admission, you like to handle it yourself. He hadn’t done this to you, had he?
A firm pinch to his cheek distracts him, pulls him down a foot below his normal standing height. Could everyone just stop pinching his fucking face? “Shit, ow!”
“Was that Breeze?” Historia yells directly into his ear. Eren, six-foot-something of hell on wheels, blushes furiously.
“Dude, was that fucking Breeze, or am I too fucked up?” Connie echoes Historia’s sentiment from over her shoulder, eyes comically wide. Armin’s peering around him, eyes flitting back and forth between Eren, Connie, and Historia as he tries to understand what’s happened.
“Who cares?” Eren snaps at Connie. Historia’s grip on his face loosens, releases entirely. If Eren didn’t like the look that you had given him, he hates the look Historia’s shooting at him right now. All daggers and disappointment. She turns on her heel without another word, making a beeline for the bathroom and dragging Sasha along behind her. Eren doesn’t miss Armin’s eyes either; stripping him to the bone without saying a word.
“Quit looking at me like that,” Eren scoffs, waves a hand in Armin’s direction.
“When did Breeze get back into town?” Armin shouts over the music.
“A few weeks ago,” Eren admits, avoiding Armin’s eyes and looking for a spot at the bar where he can escape the heavy gazes of his friends, run away to drown this conversation in a shot of whiskey.
“Did you–”
“I don’t know, man, you know how she is. She just showed up.” Eren knows he’s being unnecessarily gruff, but in his defense, the last hour or so has been a whirlwind of memory and emotion and lust that he doesn’t have the capacity to deal with.
Armin nods simply, takes a sip of his beer. Eren’s known Armin since they were kids, and he knows Armin can read him like a book. If he had a little less pride, Eren would pull Armin to the side and ask if he can make any sense of what’s going through Eren’s head right now because Eren sure as hell can’t. There’s you, with your skimpy dress and your flirty eyes, grinding on him like you’re going to take him home and fuck him stupid again, like you hadn’t demanded an honest-to-god friendship that Eren happens to very much enjoy. On the other hand, there’s Breeze, flighty and just as much of a ghost as she is a real person, popping back into his life and batting her blue eyes at him like she’d never left.
You’re his friend, and Breeze is his terrible ex. There shouldn’t be a choice here– there isn’t, it’s just the way things are, but Eren feels stuck at a crossroads for some reason.
He finally gets fed up with the music and the bumping of bodies around him and storms off to the bar again, biting back the urge to snap at Connie and Armin who he knows are hot on his heels. Eren’s just looked up from the shot of whiskey burning its way down his throat, acknowledging the dizziness that’s come with his drinks for the night, when he spots you.
You don’t look angry, that’s a small mercy you unwittingly grant him, but you’re cowering. Historia, even being shorter than you, is practically pinning you to the wall outside of the bathroom, shouting at you with her finger in your face. Sasha doesn’t look all too pleased either, arms crossed and a deep scowl written into her features. Eren gets a glimpse of your phone in Historia’s other hand that she’s waving around erratically, and wonders what the hell happens in women’s bathrooms. He’s not exactly sure what prompts it, but he checks his own phone. Nothing.
“Are they fighting?” Connie asks, nose scrunched as he peeks around Eren’s arm.
“Looks like it,” Armin nods, wincing as you try to make a grab for your phone from Historia, resulting in Sasha saving you at the last second from face-planting as Historia holds it out of your reach.
“Should we, like, do something?”
“Absolutely not,” Armin and Eren echo each other, looking at Connie as if he’d just suggested they all walk into oncoming traffic.
Eren watches as Historia grabs you by the wrist and drags you out of the bar, your feeble protests doing nothing to stop her insistent steps. Sasha follows both of you, gently pushing you along by the small of your back and shooting a regretful glance at Connie, mouthing a sorry as you all make your exit. It’s hardly been five minutes before Eren’s phone buzzes.
> had to leave. do you mind paying our tab if i venmo you? it’s under reiss.
Eren bites the inside of his cheek again, not worrying in the slightest about covering the tab, but more so the reason for your abrupt exit.
> yeah i got u everything ok?
> thanks a ton! see u next time.
It’s purposefully avoidant, especially coming from Historia, who never misses a chance to make fun of you good-naturedly. If you had been sick in the bathroom or far too drunk to stay, she would have come out and said it. Eren throws his card down, going to pay the hefty tab you and your friends racked up, but not daring to pay his own. After all of the shit that’s just gone down, he owes himself at least one more drink.
Once he’s signed, he pulls out his phone again, thumb hovering over your text thread, then Breeze’s, then yours again. Mindful of Armin’s prying eye over his shoulder, Eren sighs heftily and shuts his phone off, leaning in to order another shot. The following morning’s approaching quickly, whether he wants it to or not, and he’ll save his fucked-up emotions for the daylight.
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trungles · 2 years
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Hello, long time follower just on other platforms and I love your work. I am currently getting my Masters in Comics and Graphic Novels, and do tell me if this an inappropriate question but how much do you make? Like a month doing comics and art? Also what do you do on a day to day basis? I'm worried about my future after I graduate.
Thank you so much! This is a great question, and I wish more people would be candid about answering it because I'd like creators to demand more money. This will be a very long post! Keep reading if you're interested. MASSIVE info dump below.
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I think earnings in comics and books can look wildly different for almost every creator, and it depends on a lot of things. With that in mind, I make a slightly different amount every year. I view my finances mostly through page rates, contracted projects, and passive-ish income. Because I'm terrible at math, I'm just going to tell you how much I make per contracted projects, plus some relevant information in terms of Life Stuff. This will be very long, and I will highlight some important details that people maybe don't like to talk about very much.
Please also bear in mind that I live in Minnesota, away from all my major publishers and editors who are situated on the coasts, so my cost of living is much more manageable.
Background: Building a Foundation (2012-2018)
I graduated from college in 2012 and lived with my parents until 2018. I did not have to pay rent or worry about food, so I got to save up a lot of money to invest in developing as an artist–paying for printing zines, making merch, travel to conventions, table costs, and secure hotel accommodations. This helped enormously, and I would not have been able to spend six years developing my portfolio and connecting with comics peers and professionals without my parents. They were very supportive, even if they had no idea that I was developing professionally as an artist (LOL, they're very proud of me now, but they truly just thought I was being a weird internet gremlin the whole time). They're also not wealthy people by any means. My parents immigrated to the US in their 20s as refugees with absolutely no money and one baby (it me, I am the baby), but they each became pretty successful small-business owners in their own right and were able to help put me through school with minimal debt, even through the financial crisis in the late aughts.
I started making art in 2012-ish as well, but only semi-professionally, and barely on purpose. I was employed full-time in a non-art job between 2013 and 2018 at a local non-profit that specialized in pediatric therapy. I occupied a role as their front office person/corporate assistant. I made about 40k a year at that job, with benefits, and I made a negligible amount of money doing art and making comics. I should also note that throughout this time, I was working 40 hours a week at my day job, commuting between 2-4 hours a day depending on the weather (my commute was an hour for each direction in good weather and up to three hours if it snowed), and then working on comics for 3-4 hours in the evening, every evening. This meant that I would frequently be working anywhere between 65-85 hours a week for five years, and I do not recommend this! I burned out pretty bad! I didn't go to art school or learn about comics, either, so I felt like I had to spend time building my portfolio to make up for lost time. I didn't even know I wanted to make comics until maybe two years after I graduated from undergrad.
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I did manage to build a nice portfolio and connect with people who were making the sort of work I liked to make, so the portfolio-building did help. I posted regularly online in different platforms and steadily grew an audience over the years via Tumblr (heyyy!) Instagram (which I personally loathe), Patreon (stressful, but necessary and also getting more comfortable to use!), and Twitter (which I have very mixed feelings about, but I'll miss it if it dies). I did a few short comics with writers whose work I admired. The Fresh Romance Anthology in 2015 was my first major published work, and it was with writer Marguerite Bennett, who remains one of my absolute favorite people. I was so inexperienced at the time, and she would check in with me to make sure I got paid for my work, and then she would follow up with everyone responsible if I was not properly compensated. Not everybody is this on-the-ball about making sure their colleagues are treated well, and she absolutely set the bar for me going forward.
Doing It For Real + Some Numbers (2018-2021)
In 2018, I put together a pitch document for The Magic Fish (if you'd like to see my pitch document, here is a Dropbox link to it! It's just a book report for a book that doesn't exist yet, and I hope you find it helpful if you need it), shopped around for an agent, and found one I'm very happy with (Kate McKean at Morhaim! She's amazing! She runs a newsletter where she gives you the lowdown on how the publishing industry works, so if you're interested in Books, you can check out her writing over at Agents and Books). Then my agent shopped the pitch around to editors and publishers, and Random House Graphic won out. Also, every time she negotiates a contract for me in my home market (the US), she gets 15% cut, which is entirely worth it to me. She does so much. It's incredible.
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Random House Graphic's offer wound up being for two books at $45k each, with pretty standard royalty rates, I think around 10% in general, though there are stipulations around royalties that I can't remember off the top of my head (and also bear in mind that you do not earn royalties until your book sales have earned out your advance, and not all published books earn out). To me, this is a lot of money! BUT the graphic novel took two full years to make, so that $45k needed to last me until 2020, which is not livable if you're on you're own. Also, the advance is paid out in chunks at certain milestones of project completion. I'd get a few thousand at a time for the script, another few for the thumbnails, more for the inks, and on and on until the book is done. I would not start to get paid for the second book until I started working on it.
Earlier in 2018, I'd moved in with my partner, so we managed paying the bills and groceries together. Luckily for me, I had also completed a full tarot deck as a separate personal art project to help build my confidence as an illustrator, and my agent sold the tarot deck project (The Star Spinner Tarot) to a different publisher for a $15k advance, so I had some extra wiggle room in 2018. I quit my day job because this was a rare instance in which a book deal provided me with enough money to live on making art, with the caveat that I shared financial responsibilities with my partner. By this time, my Patreon, which I started back in 2015 I think, was also earning anywhere between $800-$1000 a month, which was really great semi-passive income. I'd post process shots and WIPs a couple times a week, and that really helped from month to month.
In 2020, The Magic Fish was published and got a lot of really lovely press. It debuted on the Indie Best-Seller list, and it got pretty popular in schools and libraries. Suddenly, my responsibilities expanded to also being a public speaker (side note: if you make a book about topics of some academic interest, make a generic powerpoint presentation about it now! I'm so serious!). I stopped tabling at conventions (the pandemic), but I would also be paid for speaking gigs in between. I'm not an enormously in-demand public speaker, so I usually asked for an honorarium of about $500 from schools and institutions for online appearances, though I'm about to ask for a lot more because it's cutting into a lot of the time I need to make comics and hit my deadlines. As people are more comfortable meeting in person, I usually ask for a speaking fee of at least $1500, and it must be after they've already taken care of my travel and accommodations. I'm not very well versed in the standards for speaking fees for debut authors, so this might not be standard! It's just my best estimation of the value of my time and effort for that instance.
Speaking of comics and deadlines, I sometimes take on smaller projects for DC (you might have seen these) and Marvel (shhh it's not been announced yet), and the page rates for those, as they've paid me, are usually as follows: $90 per page for writing ($45 for plotting and $45 for scripting), $160 for pencils per page, and $90 for inking per page. I've never colored or lettered, so I don't know those rates. I do regularly talk to other writers and artists, and the rates for writers are all over the place and seem to depend on whether you've signed an exclusive contract with either of those companies. I don't know what a contracted penciller or inker is paid by them, or if that's even a thing that happens? I also sometimes do comics cover work, and I usually charge between $1200 and $1500. I tend to charge a bit more for covers these days because I personally don't like doing covers all that much.
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Starting to Reap the Benefits Maybe? (2021-2022)
In 2021, I started getting royalty checks for both Star Spinner Tarot and The Magic Fish. These payments will vary wildly, and I think they will naturally peter off as time goes on, and I'll need to make more books and projects. In both cases, I was surprised. I think at one point a random check hit my bank account for like $20k and I nearly fainted, but some of the other royalty checks will be much more modest. This process of getting paid is also immensely eased by having a good agent! I cannot stress this enough!
Then both the Star Spinner Tarot and The Magic Fish got foreign language licenses, and those come with small advances of their own, each between $2k and $3k, from what I can recall, with varying royalty rates depending on the publisher who acquired those rights. Those royalty rates are, in my limited experience, more modest than my American publisher's, come to around 7% or 8%. The Star Spinner Tarot got an official French edition, and The Magic Fish has been licensed for publication in Italian, French, Korean, Brazilian Portuguese, and Spanish so far.
Since 2021, I've also signed on to draw two more graphic novels for other people, and my agent is able to demand higher advances for me, even when I'm only doing the drawing part.
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My Day-to-Day
I think that's about as comprehensive as I can be about numbers. On a daily basis, my schedule depends on whether I'm writing or drawing. Graphic novels are long projects. I'll be writing for months at a time and then drawing for even more months or even years after. I spend a lot of time answering emails for speaking requests, and my agent will sometimes pass along emails about legitimate project requests (another advantage of having an agent is I don't have to sift through scam emails or shady collaborators). I spend way more time answering emails and trying to iron out my calendar than I'd like.
I'm currently working on my second graphic novel for Random House Graphic, and I'm extremely excited about it.
Another thing I've learned is that I like to bounce between projects, but they have to be between a paid project and a personal project. If I'm juggling paid projects, I get overwhelmed and stressed. If I can work on a paid project and then also make personal art, I can feel some relief and maintain a positive relationship with my work. If you can ever get to a point where you can manage to do this, I highly recommend it. I never want to hate making comics, and this balance of personal-to-paid projects helps me keep loving the work.
Closing Thoughts
My only hesitation in talking candidly about all this is that I'm not sure my professional trajectory is applicable for most people. I think I've had a uniquely positive experience once I got off the ground, and I know most people's journeys are very much not this smooth. In a lot of ways, I got very lucky. And along the way I had help, especially before I got my foot firmly in the door. I don't think I make stratospherically high amounts of money, but I know this is still an atypically stable amount for a lot of artists and authors. And even so, I anticipate that some years will be better or worse than others.
Obviously, I couldn’t cover absolutely everything, but my hope is that this will be a good starting point for you to figure out what you need to plan for the future. Best of luck! Thank you for your question! I’m sorry it’s so long.
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