Trigger Warning
Whumptober day 19: “I’ll take one final step, all you have to do is make me.”
Summary: the team finds out Natasha has codes like the Winter Soldier. click link below for full story
TRIGGER WARNING
Sixteen - Шестнадцать
Purple(violet) - фиолетовый
Ice - Лед
Dream - мечтать
Elephant - Слон
Red - красный
“Hawkeye meet us at the hangar, Code Red!”
Barton bolted out the door and up to the landing platform.
The quinjet lowered its ramp. Sam, Maria, and Rhodey hurried out.
"Cap is with her." Sam told him, seeing his worry.
"What happened?"
"Zemo. He spouted some random words and she turned on us." Maria handed Barton most of Natasha's weapons. "Steve and Rhodey had to subdue her."
"She conscious?"
"Yeah."
"I don't understand, Clint. It's like she didn't know us at all."
"Programming from the Red Room. I'll explain it all later."
Barton cleared the ramp in three strides and joined Steve next to a heavily restrained Black Widow on a biobed. He barked her name but she didn’t acknowledge.
"How the hell does he know, Clint?" Steve kept his voice low.
"I was gonna ask you the same question."
"You want me to stay?”
“I might need the backup.”
Steve stepped out of sight. Clint tried again.
“Widow.”
She ignored him. He turned her face towards his.
“Who am I?”
“My next target.” She narrowed her eyes.
please click link above for full story
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Not Tonight
Whumptober day 19! I twisted the words of the prompt a bit, but I chose the lyrics this time: “I’ll take one final step, all you have to do is make me.”
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When Villain arrived on the roof of the building, they didn’t expect to see Hero standing with their back to them. Their rival’s head was craned back so they could look at the stars. “Please, Villain. Don’t do this. Not tonight.”
Villain laughed heartily, “Not tonight? So you’ll let me blow up the building of innocent civilians without interruption if I wait until tomorrow? How heroic. What would Sidekick say?”
“Sidekick is gone.” Hero’s voice sounded broken. Their shoulders slumped forward, and their legs almost buckled under an unseen weight. “Go back downstairs. Please, just not tonight.”
“Are you injured?” Villain took slow steps closer to Hero. Their concern only grew as Hero continued to refuse to look at their rival. “Hero, look at me. Show me your injuries.”
This time, Hero laughed, “I’m fine, Villain. No injuries.” Hero’s eyes flicked down to glance at Villain, widening slightly as they realized how close Villain had come. They took a few deliberate steps away, winding up closer to the edge of the building. “It’s a nice night. A long night, but beautiful.”
A shiver ran down Villain’s spine. This was not normal. Hero usually bursts onto the scene, ready for a fight. Normally, their battle would have been over by now, the building below them either destroyed or saved. Villain jumped slightly as their phone buzzed in their pocket. The moment they broke eye contact, Hero went back to looking up at the stars. As they looked at the link Henchman sent, everything started to make sense.
Villain sighed, “I think I understand now. Fights with Supervillain never end well. They used their power on Sidekick, didn’t they? They killed them.”
“Did you know the nearest star is called Proxima Centauri? Besides the Sun, of course. Even then, it’s still more than 4 light-years away.” Hero stepped closer to the edge. They leaned casually against the hip-height wall, providing some tiny protection from the 12-story drop.
“It’s alright, Hero. You must be hurting. Tell the truth.”
“Supervillain didn’t kill Sidekick, I did. They gave me their blade since Supervillain had taken mine. They held me in their arms as I used that blade to stab them in the back.”
Taking a startled step closer, Villain scanned over Hero’s shaking form. Now, they could see the small splattering of blood on their sleeve. Hero’s body shook as their head slowly tilted down, looking away from the stars and daring Villain to say what they both knew. “So they used their power on you then. That’s why you didn’t want to fight me. A stray comment could cause destruction that would make even my stomach churn, and you would be helpless to stop it. The fight with Villain was around two hours ago, right? For the next two days, you have to do as you’re told.”
“Indeed.” Hero jumped up onto the narrow ledge. “It’s pointless to deny it, isn’t it? You told me to tell the truth. Two hours and around 15 minutes ago, I murdered Sidekick and let one of the most dangerous criminals in the world go free. I stood back and watched them go. Isn’t that funny? I can’t even beg anyone for help. Look at me. I couldn’t even hide my condition from you. What happens when someone decides to use my power? How will you force me to destroy this city?
“You know I would do it, right? If you told me to, I would burn the city I love to the ground in less than 5 minutes. It would be easy. As easy as walking off this building.” Hero lifted their foot so it hovered over the drop. “You could do that too, you know. All you have to do is say the words, and I’ll take one final step. Wouldn’t that be nice? Sidekick is already dead. Just a few words and there’s no one left to stop you.”
“Step back onto the roof.” Villain’s voice was cold as they gave the strict order. They couldn’t help but notice how despite following the command, Hero’s body still leaned toward the ledge. Their hand reached toward the horizon as tears rolled down their face. “Today is not the day you die, Hero. I can promise you that.”
“Why not?” Hero’s head flopped on their shoulders as if it were too heavy for them to keep holding up. “Kill me now. Save time and effort. It’s what villains like us do, right? We kill people.”
“Follow me. We’re going back downstairs.”
“No.” Hero yelled as their body turned and took a few shaky steps closer to Villain. “No. Just kill me. Don’t do this, Please. I can’t take any more. Don’t make me live with this nightmare. I don’t want to do it. Don’t make me kill them. I’m not a murderer. They’re not dead. They can’t be dead!”
Villain pulled Hero into their arms. “It’s alright, Hero. I know what that’s like. I can’t tell you what Supervillain has made me do under the influence of their power. You are safe. I’m not really here to bomb the building. I live here. This is what I’m going to do. I’m going to take you downstairs to my apartment. You can stay in my guest room as long as you need. Once I get you set up for a shower, I’m going to cook some dinner, and we can rest. Alright?”
“Why not just command me?” Hero pushed Villain off of them. “All you have to do is tell me to jump, and I’ll do it. Why not get me out of the way? Why ask permission to protect me?”
“We can talk about it later. For now, do you like red beans and rice?”
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Entanglement (Tav/Astarion)
No. 19: “I’ll take one final step, all you have to do is make me.”
Floral Bouquet | Psychological | “I’m not as stupid as you think I am.”
***
Dominique was surprised by the floral arrangement on the dinner table. Blood red roses surrounded quite an exotic pale pink flower. It contrasted nicely with the black tablecloth, gold-plated silverware, and candles.
Astarion, himself, was gorgeous. Clean, coiffed hair, expensive clothing, and jewelry shined beautifully, including the brilliant True Love's Caress.
"I'm glad you're home. I've missed you while you have been gallivanting up and down the Sword Coast," Astarion purred teasingly.
'Not bad for a Baldurian street rat,' Dominique thought proudly. A grand house in the high city. Prestige and fame. Piles of gold. A handsome, intelligent elf as his married partner.
Well, the elf could do a bit more. But that's why Dominique went 'gallivanting' after all.
Astarion pulled out the chair at the head of the table, inviting Dominique to sit. "I sent the staff home early, so we'll have the house to ourselves."
Yes, Astarion could pull a sensual, romantic mood like no other. But that was quite different when it came to actually participating in the boudoir.
"You must have truly missed me then," Dominique beamed, sitting down. The food looked delicious, and the wine smelled heavenly. He watched as Astarion pulled out his own chair and gracefully sat down.
"Where did you go again?" Astarion questioned, his voice light and harmonious. He didn't have his own plate. Instead, he swished around his goblet of wine.
"Daggerford, mostly. Did some grunt work for their spy network," Dominique responded smoothly, drinking his wine.
"A bit banal for the Savior of Baldur's Gate," Astarion challenged with a slight raise of his eyebrows, "Do you truthfully miss striking things with that mallet of yours?"
Dominique chuckled, indulgently Astarion's question, "It makes me reminiscent of the days when I smashed heads for coin in the Lower City." He was grateful when he finally grew in height and muscle. Dominique could defend himself and earn money to take care of himself.
"Nostalgia. How quaint," Astarion hummed, crossing his legs as he sat in the chair. "Still...You were gone for a while."
Dominique stopped chewing when Astarion spoke. Odd. Astarion never pointed out how long he was gone. He swallowed before answering, "I wanted to see the sights."
"Is Daggerford that bewitching?" Astartion queried, swirling his goblet once more. "I thought it was a little hamlet. Not too much to see there."
"Just because it's not a metropolis doesn't mean there's nothing to see. I like to forage. That's why I didn't bring you. You would have been bored and complaining," Dominique disputed pointedly.
"Ah...foraging. Of course," Astarion acquiesced with a smile, "I remember you and Gale picking up every little herb you could find."
Dominique quickly changed the subject, "I bought some poetry books there. I've left them on your nightstand." He brought his napkin to his mouth to hide his cough.
"Thank you. I will add it to the peccant section of my library," Astarion noted with a tight smile.
"Peccant?" Dominique repeated as he furrowed his brows. "You don't have to flaunt your knowledge, you know. Just speak like a normal person." He had enough of men spewing expansive vocabulary lately. He brought the wine goblet to his lips, hoping the liquid would stifle his cough.
Astarion chuckled mirthlessly, "My apologies, dear. After your journey, I thought you might have learned a new word or two."
Dominique coughed again, this time spitting specks of wine onto his hand. Whatever mind game Astarion was playing, Dominique was not interested in. Frustrated, he waved off Astarion's words. He wiped his hands with his napkin. His eyes blinked suddenly as a sudden blur assaulted his vision.
"Hells," Dominique muttered, pushing the table with his hands so he could slide out of his chair. As he stood up, Dominique felt his legs lock. He stumbled to the ground. Dominique grabbed the table only to pull on the cloth, pulling his plateware down. Astarion placed his hand on the fabric, stopping Dominique from pulling the entire table placement down.
Dominique lost his hold on the tablecloth. He managed to land on his hands and knees. He felt another cough leave his body before finally falling to his side.
Astarion got up from his chair and strolled to Dominique. Bewildered by Astarion's lack of care and urgency, Dominique tried to speak. His mouth opened, but only a wheeze squeaked out. He realized that he couldn't move his arms or legs. Only his eyes darted back and forth rapidly.
"'Star..." Dominique hoarsed only for Astarion to chuckle.
"Paralytic agent. Tasteless, scentless, traceless," Astarion explained to Dominique. He picked up the plateware and cleaned up the food. He placed everything back on the table before sliding the tablecloth in place.
"I could forgive many things," Astarion reasoned, his voice consistent as he knelt beside Dominique. "The fellatios from every starstruck fanatic." He moved Dominique as though he was a mannequin. "The mistresses you keep up and down the Sword Coast and the brats you pay for..." He set Dominique on his back with his arms and legs straight. "The prostitutes who provide you with your wildest dreams with only a word and a coin purse in exchange."
Was this over the affairs? That traitorous elf. Dominique wished he could move. Leave it to a rogue to cheat . Astarion would never win in a fair fight.
"All of this I could forgive. Because you come home to me," Astarion continued, glancing down at Dominique. "There are things I cannot do...And things I will not do...You have left me no choice but to accept that if I wanted your love." His voice lowered to a sad whisper.
The fighter could strangle Astarion. How dare the elf look at him with suffering? He's the one that bloody poisoned him!
"And for the longest time. I always thought I had your love. You would buy me books after each indiscretion. A silent apology," Astarion sighed, bowing his head. He was quiet momentarily, his finger grazing Dominique's bearded cheek. "And before long, I had a bookcase of poetry staring back at me."
"I'm not as stupid as you think I am," Astarion fumed as the sorrow morphed to quiet rage. "You went to Waterdeep, not Daggerford. I found the letters," Astarion blamed in an accusatory hiss. "And..."
Dominique's breath caught as Astarion pulled one of his daggers from his belt. No...He couldn't possibly.
"I will not be in a love triangle with Gale ," Astarion seethed as he raised his knife.
And plunged.
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Today my therapist introduced me to a concept surrounding disability that she called "hLep".
Which is when you - in this case, you are a disabled person - ask someone for help ("I can't drink almond milk so can you get me some whole milk?", or "Please call Donna and ask her to pick up the car for me."), and they say yes, and then they do something that is not what you asked for but is what they think you should have asked for ("I know you said you wanted whole, but I got you skim milk because it's better for you!", "I didn't want to ruin Donna's day by asking her that, so I spent your money on an expensive towing service!") And then if you get annoyed at them for ignoring what you actually asked for - and often it has already happened repeatedly - they get angry because they "were just helping you! You should be grateful!!"
And my therapist pointed out that this is not "help", it's "hLep".
Sure, it looks like help; it kind of sounds like help too; and if it was adjusted just a little bit, it could be help. But it's not help. It's hLep.
At its best, it is patronizing and makes a person feel unvalued and un-listened-to. Always, it reinforces the false idea that disabled people can't be trusted with our own care. And at its worst, it results in disabled people losing our freedom and control over our lives, and also being unable to actually access what we need to survive.
So please, when a disabled person asks you for help on something, don't be a hLeper, be a helper! In other words: they know better than you what they need, and the best way you can honor the trust they've put in you is to believe that!
Also, I want to be very clear that the "getting angry at a disabled person's attempts to point out harmful behavior" part of this makes the whole thing WAY worse. Like it'd be one thing if my roommate bought me some passive-aggressive skim milk, but then they heard what I had to say, and they apologized and did better in the future - our relationship could bounce back from that. But it is very much another thing to have a crying shouting match with someone who is furious at you for saying something they did was ableist. Like, Christ, Jessica, remind me to never ask for your support ever again! You make me feel like if I asked you to call 911, you'd order a pizza because you know I'll feel better once I eat something!!
Edit: crediting my therapist by name with her permission - this term was coined by Nahime Aguirre Mtanous!
Edit again: I made an optional follow-up to this post after seeing the responses. Might help somebody. CW for me frankly talking about how dangerous hLep really is.
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one of the things that's the most fucking frustrating for me about arguing with climate change deniers is the sheer fucking scope of how much it matters. sweating in my father's car, thinking about how it's the "hottest summer so far," every summer. and there's this deep, roiling rage that comes over me, every time.
the stakes are wrong, is the thing. that's part of what makes it not an actual debate: the other side isn't coming to the table with anything to fucking lose.
like okay. i am obviously pro gun control. but there is a basic human part of me that can understand and empathize with someone who says, "i'm worried that would lead to the law-abiding citizens being punished while criminals now essentially have a superpower." i don't agree, but i can tell the stakes for them are also very high.
but let's say the science is wrong and i'm wrong and the visible reality is wrong and every climate disaster refugee is wrong. let's say you're right, humans aren't causing it or it's not happening or whatever else. let's just say that, for fun.
so we spend hundreds of millions of dollars making the earth cleaner, and then it turns out we didn't need to do that. oops! we cleaned the earth. our children grow up with skies full of more butterflies and bees. lawns are taken over with rich local biodiversity. we don't cry over our electric bills anymore. and, if you're staunchly capitalist and i need to speak ROI with you - we've created so many jobs in developing sectors and we have exciting new investment opportunities.
i am reminded of kodak, and how they did not make "the switch" to digital photography; how within 20 years kodak was no longer a household brand. do we, as a nation, feel comfortable watching as the world makes "the switch" while we ride the laurels of oil? this boggles me. i have heard so much propaganda about how america cannot "fall behind" other countries, but in this crucial sector - the one that could actually influence our own monopolies - suddenly we turn the other cheek. but maybe you're right! maybe it will collapse like just another silicone valley dream. but isn't that the crux of capitalism? that some economies will peter out eventually?
but let's say you're right, and i'm wrong, and we stopped fracking for no good reason. that they re-seed quarries. that we tear down unused corporate-owned buildings or at least repurpose them for communities. that we make an effort, and that effort doesn't really help. what happens then? what are the stakes. what have we lost, and what have we gained?
sometimes we take our cars through a car wash and then later, it rains. "oh," we laugh to ourselves. we gripe about it over coffee with our coworkers. what a shame! but we are also aware: the car is cleaner. is that what you are worried about? that you'll make the effort but things will resolve naturally? that it will just be "a waste"?
and what i'm right. what if we're already seeing people lose their houses and their lives. what if it is happening everywhere, not just in coastal towns or equatorial countries you don't care about. what if i'm right and you're wrong but you're yelling and rich and powerful. so we ignore all of the bellwethers and all of the indicators and all of the sirens. what if we say - well, if it happens, it's fate.
nevermind. you wouldn't even wear a mask, anyway. i know what happens when you see disaster. you think the disaster will flinch if you just shout louder. that you can toss enough lives into the storm for the storm to recognize your sacrifice and balk. you argue because it feels good to stand up against "the liberals" even when the situation should not be political. you are busy crying for jesus with a bullhorn while i am trying to usher people into a shelter. you've already locked the doors, even on the church.
the stakes are skewed. you think this is some intellectual "debate" to win, some funny banter. you fuel up your huge unmuddied truck and say suck it to every citizen of that shitbird state california. serves them right for voting blue!
and the rest of us are terrified of the entire fucking environment collapsing.
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