#dictates whether or not it's like good or well written

[shorthaltsjester]

when people think delilah just completely takes over and laudna has no control. when people think jester is just an uwu child who has been manipulated by every man she’s met. when people think vex is an empty husk of daddy issues without her brother by her side. when people think fjord is an arrogant asshole who doesn’t pay attention to the party around him. when people think scanlan saying that vox machina doesn’t care about him is an accurate assessment.

[f1fnatic]

SOUL TIED ⤿ c. leclerc 16

→ ( in which. . . ) you, a firm believer in soulmates, find 'the one' though he doesn't believe in soulmates himself.

→ ( fanfic genre. . . ) written

→ ( pairing. . . ) charles leclerc x reader gender not specified

→ ( content warnings/disclaimers. . . ) none!

→ ( author's note. . . ) had this idea brewin in my mind for a while. thought it would be fun to write about a soulmate believer and a soulmate denier. hope you enjoy! see end for more

→ ( masterlist )

you were a strong believer in soulmates. twin flames, soul ties, and the red string theory were a few you lived by. but, lately, you began to think that you would never find yours.

it hurt you deep in your heart seeing those around you fall deeply in love with their other halves, while you were stuck on the sidelines, waiting till yours came around. you wanted to scream and yell at the universe, blaming whatever higher power for the many failed relationships you have endured. it was like a stake was being plunged through your chest every time you saw healthy relationships. everyone had their person, so why didn't you have yours?

at the beginning, you were hopeful. thinking that your current boyfriend was the one. though, as time went on, you became less and less hopeful. you yearned to feel that strong connection of love, to feel your heart physically skip a beat and your palms get sweaty. to have butterflies flutter in your core each time you made eye contact. you needed your person. you wanted your person.

some nights you lay awake, restless and staring at the ceiling, wondering what your soulmate would look like. would they be taller than you? have blue, green, or brown eyes? blond or black hair; maybe no hair at all?

you were tired of the endless cycle; find a man, fall in love, find out he's not 'the one', and break it off. time was a cruel thing, and it was laughing in your face.

charles never really understood the infatuation others had toward soulmates. he never was able to wrap his head around the fact that people would dictate their relationships by whether or not their partner was 'the one.'

sure, charles might've been a little bit of a playboy. it didn't help that his exes were almost all a part of the same friend group. he couldn't help himself, they were all stunning. and, who wouldn't want to date an f1 driver?

if he was being honest with himself, which is a rare occasion, then he would admit that yes, he was getting upset that he couldn't maintain a long-term relationship. he was fed up with starting relationships and then ending them almost a year later.

truly, it was starting to affect his work life. he started to become spacy during team meetings, wasn't performing well in the car, and would give short answers during interviews.

charles wanted to curse at time and blame it for never giving him enough of it. he was getting desperate, he wanted to find his person.

somehow, by some higher power, or by just plane luck, you won tickets to the monaco grand prix. to say you were ecstatic would be an understatement, you were over the moon. you had been following f1 for a while, since you were a kid actually. you remember watching the concerningly fast cars went around the seemingly endless circle with your father. if he was still around, you definitely would have taken him with you.

charles nerve's were through the roof. yet another home race, yet more expectations to live up to. there was something special about a home race, but in the moment, charles couldn't think of one good reason about his home race being special. there wasn't an f2 feature race, so his brother wouldn't be watching. his mom got a sudden influx of customers at her salon, and lorenzo was with charlotte for a vacation.

standing in the starting strip was a surreal experience. never would you have thought you would be standing where the metal machines would be in an hours time. the area was bustling with bodies. celebrities, media personnel, drivers, and their respective teams were all around you. things were loud. you could barely hear yourself think. the ferrari cap on your head stood out against the dark navy blue of redbull. ferrari was a few rows back while redbull was at the front.

charles' mind was racing. so many thoughts at such a fast speed cycling through his brain. he was attempting to make his way to his car so he could complete his pre-race warm-up with his trainer, but he kept getting stopped. fans and interviewers wanting a moment of his time. he was heavily tempted to say no, but that wouldn't be good for his pr officer. so, he stayed. eventually though, he had to excuse himself. or rather, his trainer grabbed him by his arm and dragged him to his car to finish preparing for the race.

in the bustle of everything, you failed to hear the shouts of a certain driver's name. that is until a body collided with yours and two pairs of arms wrapped themselves like snakes around your waist. your cap was knocked off of your head and stolen before you could say anything. you turned to look at who kept you from falling and your heart immediately quickened. butterflies fluttered deep in your stomach and hands started to get clammy.

stunning hazel eyes lock onto yours. a hot pink blush began to run from your neck to your cheeks. brown hair perfectly complimented his features. a bright smile creeping onto his mouth. this was him, you could feel it. you didn't know why, but he, he was your soulmate.

charles didn't know the feeling blooming in his chest. but the moment he bumped into you, a million sparks erupted like fireworks throughout his body. it was like he was engulfed in eternal sunshine. he loved it, he wanted more of it.

mere seconds felt like hours, days even, of just the two of you standing there. the crowd disappeared. the track cleared, it was just you and the ferrari driver. you were too stunned to speak, and it seemed as though charles was as well.

he had never seen someone so beautiful. he felt a breath trapped in his throat, struggling to get out. the way your eyes stared at him through your long eyelashes made him want to crumble to the floor. much to his dismay, charles was harshly snapped back to reality when a hand slapped him on the back, making him remove his hands from your waist.

a faint pout settled on your lips, the warmth of his large hands lingering. he politely excused himself with a smile, explaining that he had to continue preparing for the race. you smiled back, understanding the rush to resume his tasks.

as charles turned to walk away, the warm feeling that bloomed in his chest was now wilting into a bitter cold. he was disappointed that he didn't try to make a short conversation with you, maybe ask for your number to keep in touch as he knew he would most likely never see you again.

you watched his retreating figure weave in and out of the mob of people. disappointment settled heavy in your stomach. the pout on your lips deepened as he got further and further away. you cursed yourself for not saying anything, being too starstruck to speak.

walking away with a heavy heart and even heavier feet, you make your way to the ferrari hospitality. the race was about to start, meaning that hopefully, charles would finally win his home race. you were rooting for him, truly. especially after your little run-in on the start-stop line.

after the race ended with a historic p1 result from charles, you managed to find yourself below the podium. seeing charles stand so proudly as his anthem blared made you smile.

suddenly while he was looking around, he locked eyes with you. at first you thought he was looking at his team who was just in front of you, but then he pointed at you, smiled and waved. a blush made its way to your face.

after the podium celebrations concluded, someone in ferrari gear approached you asking you to come with them. nerves radiated throughout your body, why would a ferrari personnel want you? they lead you through the garage and into the back by the drivers room. they then knocked on charles' door and left. you stood there frozen, not knowing what to do.

soft shuffling was heard on the other side of the door then it swung open, revealing the podium sitter that made you blush beyond recognition.

charles didn't know what came over him, one second he was on the podium pride swimming around him and the next asking his pr manager to find you. he knew it was silly, but he couldn't help it. you were beautiful.

that same feeling came back to him once he saw you standing in the doorway. he felt like a schoolboy.

"hi." charles sighed out. he wasn't really sure where to start, i mean, what much could you have in common?

"hi." you respond simply. a confused expression sat on your face, what on earth were you doing here?

a very awkward silence sat suspended in the air. you hugged yourself, a protective gesture that charles picked up on. he dropped his hands to his side, trying to open up the failing conversation.

thoughts were running through your mind. a nagging feeling clawed at you. you knew this was 'the one,' so why was it so unbelievably awkward?

"listen," charles starts, left hand out in front of him and his right rubbing the nape of his neck, "i know this may seem crazy, but when we bumped into each other before the race, i got a feeling that i haven't been able to shake away." he looks up to you trying to gauge your reaction.

you nodded before saying, "i know what you mean."

relief flushes over his body. his mind came to a slowing stop, he was glad you knew what he was talking about.

"i've been a stong believer in soulmates since i was a little kid and when you caught me, i don't know how to explain it, but it felt like the universe was telling me 'this is the one.'" you express. a blush began to creep up your neck, slightly dusting your cheeks in pink.

charles looked away shyly. you had described exactly how he felt when he prevented you from falling on the track. it felt nice how quick you were to understand, he was sure he sounded like a broken record.

"well then," he says "you care if i get you a new cap?"

whoop another fic done and dusted! trying to make a dent in all of my drafts :') anyways, if you would like to be on the taglist, comment!!! requests and feedback are welcome! make sure to leave a comment and kudos as well (only if you want :P)

[darkshelbyfiction]

forced to serve (p.1)

Tommy Shelby x Reader

Warning: Smut, Forced Prostitution, Dub-Con, Butt Stuff, Ass to Mouth

Written for and with my sexy wife @queenshelby, luv you bae

Summary: Your husband forces you into prostitution and your client is Thomas Shelby 👌

After you were told to prepare for your first client that evening, you found yourself nervous about what would come. This wasn't how you wanted things to turn out - not by a long shot! It was your very own husband who forced you into prostitution and desperate times called for desperate measures, right? You somehow had to feed your young child.

Dressed in your most provocative attire, your heart raced when you heard someone approaching your door – it was him. Tommy Shelby. A man whose reputation preceded him. From stories whispered around town, he always demanded something different and intense from those he interacted with. He enjoyed intercourse that was rough and forceful and demanded complete submission from those who served him.

He paid well and he was informed by the madam of the house that you would be obedient and allow him to penetrate you in whatever way he wished, for at least two hours.  

It was all part of the deal you had made before entering this world where men like Tommy Shelby roamed free, dictating others' lives, desires, destinies.

The moment he entered the room, he immediately began taking off his shirt, exposing himself without shame or embarrassment. His muscular body gleaming under dim lights only intensified the raw power emanating from him. There was no mistaking whose presence filled the room now.

"Get on your hands and knees and crawl over here, my pet!" Tommy commanded without bothering to formally introduce himself.

"You want me to crawl towards you, on the floor?" you asked hesitantly, unsure whether you really understood his request correctly.

"Yes, Love," he barked back at you impatiently. "And don't ask questions. Just do it."

Your heart thumped rapidly against your ribcage, adrenaline coursing through your veins, heightening your senses. As you scrambled across the floor, getting closer to his towering frame, a strange mix of fear engulfed you.

"Good pet", he growled softly, taking notice of your compliance. Then, gripping your wrist tightly, he pulled you up onto your feet and led you towards the bed, commanding you once again to get on your knees, facing away from him.

Without waiting for your response, he spanked your bottom harshly, sending a shockwave of pain throughout your entire body. As tears welled up in your eyes, you felt a sudden surge of anger rise within you.

"Your safe word is red. Use it when you can't take it anymore and I will stop," Tommy spoke, his voice hoarse with lust. "I am not going to be gentle. In fact, I am going to hurt you, but this is what I am fucking paying you for, eh?"

As he roughly grabbed your hips, lifting you off the ground and positioning you into a standing doggystyle, you couldn't help but feel utterly overwhelmed by his brute strength. With one hand firmly grasping your waist, he used the other to pull your skirt higher, baring your bare behind for him to see. 

Your stomach twisted with nerves as he swiftly removed his trousers, releasing his enormous erection from its confines. It stood tall and proud, almost taunting you. 

Tommy reached forward and, without warning, he pushed your head down onto the mattress. "Open your legs wide and stick out your ass, sweetheart," he ordered.

Reluctantly, you did as instructed, feeling humiliated and afraid of what might happen next. Toying with your tender flesh, he slapped your ass repeatedly until it stung fiercely. He then took hold of your waist once more, pulling you further into the position he desired. Your face flushed crimson with anger and shame, yet your resolve remained unbroken. If anything, these brutish acts fueled your determination to endure. Tommy leaned in close, speaking directly into your ear, his hot breath causing goosebumps along your neck.

"Don't worry, love," he whispered huskily, "This won't last forever." He punctuated his words with a sharp slap to your ass cheek, eliciting a whimper from you despite your best efforts to suppress it.

"Now tell me how badly you need my cock inside your cunt, little bird," he said in a low, threatening tone.

"Please, sir..." you murmured, trying hard to maintain composure. "Just please make sure it doesn't hurt too much…"

At this point, his expression changed, morphing into pure malevolence. He knew just how far he could push you without crossing the line marked 'red'.

"That's my good pet, eh" he snarled approvingly, rubbing his cock against your still dry entrance. 

Realising that you were not ready yet, he removed his cock temporally and spat some saliva onto his fingers and pressed them against your moistening hole, massaging and stretching it slowly while occasionally glancing at you with a look of hunger. You clenched your teeth together, fighting back the urge to cry out from the burning sensation spreading through your insides.

Finally, he stopped and held his manhood upright, his gaze fixated upon yours. "Are you ready, love?" he questioned with anticipation evident in his voice. You nodded mutely, unable to find the courage to speak aloud.

Unable to bear the intensity of the pressure building inside you, you finally gave consent, letting out a soft whimper that seemed to excite him even more. Grabbing you tighter by the waist, he thrust violently into you, causing you to gasp involuntarily.

Despite the initial discomfort, the familiarity of the rhythm gradually allowed you to become accustomed to his size. However, you struggled to regulate your breathing, hyperventilating as you tried to keep pace with the increasing speed of his movements.

Clutching the sheets tightly, you winced every time he drove deeper into you, the pain shooting through your loins growing stronger with each thrust.

Tommy loved watching his partner squirm beneath him, submitting to his every desire. 

"Isn't this what you wanted?" he taunted, pounding into you relentlessly.

Tears rolled down your cheeks as the intensity continued to increase, leaving trails of salty residues on your skin. Each stroke felt like an invasion, deepening the connection he sought.

You bit your lip, determined not to let your cries escape. Instead, you focused on counting the number of strokes, trying to block out the searing pain with numbers. Your throat became parched as sweat trickled down your forehead, making it difficult to swallow.

"You are married aren't you?" Tommy suddenly interrupted your internal struggle, his heavy breath echoing in the silence of the room.

"What makes you think that?" you managed to choke out, trying to hide your feelings behind innocuous indifference.

"The ring on your finger gave it away," he replied smugly, continuing his thrusts, groaning loudly.

"Y-yes, sir. I am married" you mumbled weakly, your whole body trembling slightly from the assault.

He paused briefly, admiring your vulnerability before continuing mercilessly.

"Tell me Love, does your husband fuck you like this?" he crooned, driving his hips harder into you.

You cried out involuntarily, overcome by the intensity of his movement. Your legs quivered with fatigue, your arms shook as they supported your weight precariously on all fours.

"Answer me, love," he growled, pushing deeper inside you, his member pulsing against your wall, filling you completely. Your throat burned with the effort of holding back your cries.

"No," you whispered hoarsely, causing Tommy to smile maliciously as, unexpectedly, he started to probe your anal opening with his finger while continuing to thrust into your sore pussy, 

"Does your husband ever touch you here?" He breathed heavily into your ear, his warm breath tickling your sensitive skin.

You closed your eyes, struggling with the urge to both answer him honestly and to deny him altogether. 

"Answer me, love," he repeated forcefully, pushing his index finger into your anus with such precision and ease that it surprised you greatly. You cried out in astonishment at the sudden intrusion.

"No," you answered eventually while crying out loudly. 

His laughter resonated around the room, causing goosebumps to prickle your skin. "So, has anyone fucked your ass yet? Tell me, sweet thing."

You cringed internally, mortified that he would ask something so personal, but knowing it was part of the game, you mustered enough courage to respond truthfully.

"N-no," you stammered quietly, the word nearly escaping your lips before you could catch yourself.

"Well, we'll rectify that today, shall we?" He purred menacingly, slipping two fingers into your wet, gaping anus, stretching and teasing you slowly. 

Your muscles contracted involuntarily in response to his fingers penetrating your rectum, making you writhe underneath him. Your mouth opened slightly in surprise, emitting silent gasps.

"Good pet," he whispered, withdrawing his fingers slowly and methodically from your anus. 

"I think your ass is ready for my cock now," mockingly, reaching for the bedside table and retrieving some Vaseline. 

Fearful and hesitant, you lowered your head submissively. He ignored your reluctance and quickly covered his cock in the creamy substance. 

Without waiting for your permission, he positioned himself over you again, guiding his engorged tool toward your aching anus. His grip on your hips was ironclad, refusing to allow you to escape or resist his assault. You writhed helplessly underneath him, struggling to accept the impending invasion. Despite your protests, your body refused to comply, betraying your resistance as he slowly inserted his length into your rear passage.

"Remember your safe word love," he whispered softly into your ear. You bit your tongue, willing yourself to remain strong.

As his full girth filled you up, he began moving within you, his powerful hips bucking against your own, his hands pressing harshly against your shoulders, pinning you in place.

The world around you blurred, and the only sound you heard was your labored breathing combined with his savage grunts of pleasure. Your tears flowed freely down your cheeks, unnoticed by either party involved in this perverse act.

"It hurts, doesn't it? Having my thick cock in your smallest hole? I can feel how much it aches you when I slide in and out," Tommy gloated cruelly, his breath ragged and heavy against your shoulder. His cock throbbed steadily inside you, reminding you of his sheer power over you. It felt like he had no regard for your limits, your needs – he simply possessed you, taking whatever he wished, whenever he chose.

"Tell me, do you like feeling my massive rod buried deep inside your bowels?" He asked playfully, his voice carrying a sinister undertone that made your stomach turn.

Swallowing nervously, you managed to gather enough strength to utter a faint yes. It wasn't a complete fabrication though, as you did enjoy feeling full. This admission served as further encouragement for him, prompting him to continue his brutal attack.

With each new entry, his pace increased incrementally until you found yourself lost in a haze of desperation, pain, and arousal. Your walls seemed to close in on themselves, creating a claustrophobic environment where you could neither scream nor beg for release.

In this moment, Tommy realized that he was approaching his peak - the culmination of his dominance and control over you. Increasing his tempo exponentially, he used his considerable strength to propel himself deeply within you once more, ignoring your frantic attempts to pull away.

His hardened pelvis rubbed against your tender entrance, forcing you to succumb to the waves of pleasure coursing through your body despite your best efforts to maintain distance.

Every thrust reverberated throughout your entire frame, sending shockwaves of ecstasy coursing through your system, making it impossible to hold back your orgasm. As you approached climax, Tommy increased his vigor, grasping your hips firmly, rocking your body against his rhythmic pace.

With every thrust, your moans grew louder, feeding off one another. Tommy couldn't help but be proud of his mastery, reveling in your submission. You were a delicious treat he didn't want to end too soon. Your breath quickened, and your nipples hardened under his gaze. As your excitement reached its peak, the walls around you disappeared, replaced by the intense heat of passion. The sensation of his hand cupping your breast brought forth a surge of electric energy, heightening your already spiraling awareness.

The rhythm of his thrusts intensified, mirroring the rapid beat of your heart. With each motion, you could sense the pressure building within, threatening to erupt and consume you entirely.

Your nails scratched furiously at the sheets, seeking some kind of anchor amidst the storm of emotion and physical stimulation consuming you. The taste of salt lingering on your lips only added fuel to the fire, and you found yourself begging for him to take you even further.

"Please, please don't stop!" you pleaded. Tommy laughed triumphantly, a devilish glint dancing in his eyes.

"Do you truly wish for me to push beyond your limit, my little pet?" He taunted, grazing his teeth along your neck, sending shivers racing across your flesh. Unable to suppress your desire any longer, you nodded fervently, meeting his challenge eagerly.

"Then open your mouth wide, my dear," he instructed, loosening his grip just enough to grant you a brief reprieve as he pulled his cock from your ass and pushed you onto the floor.

"You are going to swallow my cum without spilling a drop," he commanded sternly, towering over you.

Feeling violated and humiliated, you dropped obediently to your knees and took his rigid erection into your hungry mouth. Tears streamed down your face as you performed this degrading task, your pride battered and bruised beneath his feet.

Despite the overwhelming shame and embarrassment, you tried your utmost to satisfy him, hoping to regain even the slightest fragment of dignity that remained intact.

His manhood twitched visibly in response to your efforts, provoking him to grab your hair roughly, pulling your head closer to his groin.

"Keep it up, open your throat," he threatened gruffly, reaffirming his absolute control over you. Panicked, you obeyed without question, not wanting to anger him further. Every caress of his fingers through your strands sent shudders of fear down your spine, yet you continued to service him dutifully.

His member grew heavier in your mouth, swelling impossibly larger still as you worked harder to accommodate its size. You fought the urge to gag, concentrating solely on staying true to your promise to him. The struggle became evident in your reddened eyes and quivering jawline. Desperate to avoid his wrath, you tightened your grip on his length, sucking harder, and increasing the intensity of your movements.

Tommy let out a low growl of satisfaction, pleased with your performance.

"Here it comes, love. Feast upon my essence, my precious pet," he said, allowing his seminal fluid to pour forcefully into your awaiting mouth. The salty liquid flooded your palate, filling your mouth completely. The bitter flavor caused your lips to pucker. Still, you valiantly kept your mouth closed, determined not to defile his command.

Still holding your hair tightly, he allowed you to come up from your knees, bringing you into a standing position.

"Open and show me your tongue, I want to make sure you swallowed it all." Obeying, you extended your tongue to meet his inspection.

"Very good, my pet. Now get back on to your knees and clean off my cock properly," Tommy ordered coldly, releasing his grip on your hair. Observing his reaction, you hurriedly knelt before him, carefully opening your mouth to receive his cock once more. His phallus emerged from your mouth, wet and sticky, leaving behind traces of his seed.

"Lick it clean, come on!" he demanded brusquely, eyeing you critically. You complied immediately, not wanting to upset him anymore today. Swirling your tongue around the sensitive tip, you meticulously cleansed it, paying special attention to any lingering residues.

"That will do," he conceded finally, stepping away from you. Exhausted, you sank down onto the floor, feeling a wave of relief wash over you as the events gradually subsided.

Looking up, you noticed Tommy surveying you with a mixture of admiration and contempt.

Clearly satisfied with your obedience, he smirked, wiping the remaining evidence of his domination from your lips with a smile.

"You did well tonight, pet," he admitted grudgingly, turning to leave. "And I cannot believe that your husband would share someone as divine as you are, sweetheart. I certainly would not share you with other men if you belonged to me, which makes me wonder what sort of man he is..." Tommy leered at you suggestively, his tone oozing confidence and superiority. You flinched involuntarily, unsure whether to feel insulted or intrigued by his brazen assessment. Feeling emboldened by his apparent interest, you sought to learn more about the enigmatic Mr. Shelby. "My husband... He is quite peculiar, sir," you hesitated, casting your eyes downward thoughtfully, without telling him that he was forcing you to do this for money. 

[copperbadge]

I'm generally pretty good at faking whatever jobs my characters happen to be doing, most of the time, but recently I was wondering what it is that the ruler of a small country might actually do all day. Like when Gregory's not running Parliament or holding galas, and when it's not budget season, the hell does he fill his time with?

So I did a little research dive, which was pretty helpful, but also I happened upon this amazing article about what British prime ministers' schedules used to look like on a daily basis. William Gladstone, who served a few terms in the late 19th century, apparently ran Parliament like a 1980s party boy:

10am - noon: breakfast party for around eight [...] often followed by a picture buying or viewing excursion.

1pm-4.30pm: meetings, writing letters, reading official reports, preparing papers for cabinet.

4.30pm: taking part in Commons debates before adjournment for dinner at 7.30pm.

9pm-1.30am: back to Commons for more debates.

Now, despite keeping club kid hours, Gladstone was apparently very religious, so while this next part is written very tongue-in-cheek, I can't tell whether he himself was in earnest when

Around twice a week, Gladstone would also embark on "nocturnal rescue missions", disappearing to Piccadilly Circus to talk to young [sex workers] and sometimes going to their homes for "conversation".

I'm sure they were thrilled to be taken off the job so they could have a "conversation" with the prime minister. I hope if it was just conversation at least he still paid them for their time.

The article also reports on Churchill, who kept similar hours during the war and continued in the same vein after, so I won't recount his entire schedule except to quote a description of his early workday:

Breakfast in bed at 9am, including cold grouse, or partridge if in season, as well as whisky and soda. Unless there was a cabinet committee, he would remain in bed until shortly before lunch while an official took dictation and he read papers. His poodle Rufus and budgerigar Toby would be in attendance as ministers trooped in for meetings.

Nice work if you can get it, but a whiskey soda at nine in the morning over a breakfast of cold game bird just makes my liver throb.

[lovegrowsart]

what do u think of people saying that zuko only helped katara find the tsr because of his own selfish reasons? that he doesn’t care about her like that and just wanted her to stop being mean to him.

thank you for the ask, anon!

i think the first thing to establish is that, imo, it isn't necessarily wholly selfish of zuko to want katara to not be mean to him, even if he comes to a deeper understanding of why she's lashing out at him. it's perfectly within zuko's right to desire being treated well by his peers, especially as someone whose only recently left an extremely dangerous and abusive environment. that is NOT me saying katara is being abusive, she isn't at all, and her anger and distrust towards zuko is also perfectly understandable and relatable, and what's beautiful about their development in tsr is how they work through this conflict together. neither of them are being bad people in this episode - they're both good people that have some damage in their relationship, and i think some fans' attempts to make zuko (or katara ig) out to be the "bad guy" in the situation reductive and quite boring.

still, people generally point to how zuko acts/reacts in the beginning of the episode to paint him as "selfish", because he doesn't realise the depth of katara's hurt re: ba sing se until she yells at him about it - which is the moment that zuko switches from being frustrated with katara's behaviour to understanding and regretful, and immediately asks what he can do make it up to her. when katara lists a few impossible tasks for him, essentially implying that there's nothing zuko can do to improve their relationship and/or ease the hurt and anger she's carrying, zuko goes "well, bet, impossible tasks and relentless determination are my MO!" and goes to sokka, expresses that he cares about what katara thinks of him (as in its not only about wanting katara to stop being mean, but wanting to prove himself to katara, that he's changed for the better and can be there for her/help her), and learns about kya - then he stays outside her tent all night, offers to go on a highly dangerous mission with katara to go after yon rha, and stands by katara when aang and sokka preach forgiveness from their ostrich horse. on the mission, he never once dictates or even suggests what katara should do with yon rha once they find him, and completely follows her lead.

the thing is, if zuko's motivations were wholly selfish and only about getting katara to stop being mean to him, i doubt he would've gone to all those lengths to understand the root of katara's pain and anger (which, again, was never solely about him and what happened in ba sing se), and go on a whole ass mission to hunt down a dangerous someone they know has murdered at least one innocent civilian! it puts zuko at odds with aang and sokka after gaining their trust, which i doubt he wants, it takes time away from training aang and preparing him to face ozai, which i really doubt he wants, and he's going on a mission which someone who doesn't seem to like him all that much atm - not exactly a fun time! if it was really just about getting katara to stop being mean to him sometimes, i don't believe he would've done all that - he would've just accepted his lot and tried to work around katara's behaviour, which was frustrating to him, sure, but he's not thin-skinned or incapable of standing up for himself, he grew up with azula for fuck's sake!

lastly, i think it's pretty obvious that zuko's pretty surprised when katara forgives and hugs him at the end of the episode, which says to me that he wasn't thinking about whether she would do that or not, and certainly wasn't expecting it - which he would've been if his motivations were that selfish, if he was only doing it get katara to chill out or whatever and expected some reward for helping her find yon rha.

anyway, yeah - think i expressed my thoughts on this a bit messily, but tl;dr that i just don't think the way zuko was written and presented in the episode aligns with reading him as being selfish, not after the cliff scene, and tbh that reading often comes from people that have a vested interest in bad faith readings of zuko's character and devaluing zutara's canon development and relationship.

[five-rivers]

Gambler's Fallacy

AO3

Izuku’s expected path down, face-first into the concrete, halted.  He floated, staring at the retreating sidewalk, uncomprehending.  

“Sorry!” said an unfamiliar voice.  “I hope you don’t mind, I used my quirk on you!  Falling would be bad luck, wouldn’t it?”

“Um,” said Izuku, not sure how to explain that was the point to this very pretty girl with this super cool quirk, oh, no, why was she even talking to him?

She tapped her fingers together, and her quirk let him go.  “Good luck on the exam!” she said, walking away.

“Uh-um, y-yeah,” said Izuku.  

Crap.  Did that interaction count as good luck or bad?  Obviously, Kacchan literally running into him on the way in was bad luck, and tripping was bad luck, but a cute girl rescuing him?  And then Izuku completely humiliating himself by not being able to say thank you?  If only his quirk took other people’s actions into account more, maybe he’d be able to tell.  Especially when he was trying to save up his bad luck by pulling on the negative side of his quirk.  

Speaking of which, he had an entrance exam to get to, and this would be the biggest test of his quirk since the day with the sludge villain.  That day had been awful.  He’d burned through his ‘stored’ luck and then some when All Might rescued him, bit his tongue so hard he wasn’t able to ask the man any questions, and then on the way home, he’d run into the sludge villain again, but this time, it was attacking Kacchan, and he’d had to tip his quirk balance even further into ‘debt’ for the luck to stab the villain in the eye with his pencil.  When he finally got the chance to go home after that, when the heroes (except for All Might) were debating whether to berate him for quirk use, or interrogate him over his ‘clearly fake’ quirk, only constant vigilance kept him from being run over by a car or kidnapped.  

(Luck only took you so far.  Skill and hard work closed the gap.)

But he was far more prepared today!  The last time he’d spent a significant amount of luck all at once was when he met Mr. Yagi, who’d been organizing a community volunteer event to clean up Dagobah beach.  Izuku had… needed a pick-me-up after his quirk registration had been audited again.  He was glad he did.  Mr. Yagi was the sort of guy who was so uncool he sort of rolled over into being cool again, and he worked at Might Tower.  Izuku really liked Mr. Yagi.  Even if he did sometimes look at Izuku as if he were debating saying something life-altering.  

Point being, he had a bunch of luck saved up, and he’d keep saving it all the way until he was taking the exam, leaning on his quirk just enough to make himself moderately unlucky until then.  

It worked pretty well, in his opinion.  The random seating for the written exam and for the practical orientation both put him next to Kacchan, he somehow grabbed the attention of someone confident uptight enough to scold him for muttering in front of a whole auditorium of people, he kept getting hit by doors, the robot bus driver somehow decided to register him as a bush, instead of a human, he tripped getting off the bus, the uptight guy scolded him again, and then–

“Start!” screamed Present Mic, from the announcer’s box.  

Izuku didn’t have to be told twice.

.

Izuku didn’t actually mind having bad luck.  

Not usually.  Not as long as it was only a little bad luck.  After all, what you did with your luck was what dictated your fate.  Plus, most small unlucky events, like spills, tears, and lost items, could be countered with only a little forethought.  Izuku had two of everything that was really important, and carried a mini sewing and stain removal kit with him almost all the time!

But… good luck was freedom.  Good luck made him feel as if he was invincible, as if he was flying, a thousand miles up and only getting higher.  Good luck was amazing.  

Good luck was an almost ideal weapon in his hand the minute he stepped into the fake city, a piece of pipe that was just the right length, the right height, the right width for him to hold onto easily. 

Good luck was catching sight of other students hitting the weak points of robots so clearly he knew he would be able to target them as well.  

Good luck was partially-destroyed but still functional robots practically offering themselves up to him for points.  

Good luck was being able to dodge every attack and stray friendly fire without even trying.  

Good luck was spotting when people were in trouble before they even knew it, and pulling them out of the way.  

Good luck was seeing that nice girl trapped under rubble, and throwing his pipe, spear-like, at the zero-pointer and having it hit something so vital that its progress ground to a stop.  

Good luck was… rapidly running out.  Actually, he’d burned through his saved buffer of bad luck a while ago.  

Oops.  

He didn’t even see the bit of rubble that fell on his head.  

He didn’t see anything until hours later when Recovery Girl woke him up in the infirmary.  

He didn’t even get to talk to the nice girl again.  

But… he thought he’d done well.  He could only hope he’d done well enough.  

.

He had!

.

Izuku checked to make sure he wasn’t leaning on the negative side of his quirk too hard.  A quirk assessment?  A physical quirk assessment?  On the first day?  One with expulsion as a possible consequence?

He was going to die.  

It wasn’t like he’d neglected physical training.  Mr. Yagi had even given him some suggestions for it!  (It turned out that before he’d been a secretary, he’d been a personal trainer… who knew?)  But, naturally, he’d focused on his quirk, and his quirk was anything but physical.  In a class with Kacchan and people with enhancement-type quirks…

Kacchan promptly underlined the point by blasting a baseball hundreds of meters away in the ball toss while shouting “DIE!” at the top of his lungs.

He was really going to die.  

Unless… unless everyone else lost.

He raised his hand.  “Mr. Aizawa, do you mean we can do anything to make our scores better in comparison with our classmates?”

“As long as you don’t injure anyone, yes.”

Well.  He’d learned long ago that good luck for him sometimes meant bad luck for other people.  He… really didn’t want to be expelled.  But could he do that to his new classmates?  Could he sabotage them like that?

.

The answer was, no, he couldn’t.  But he could, apparently, get one of UA’s observation drones to go haywire, catching his baseball at the top of its arc and then zooming off to who-knew-where over a kilometer away at high speed.  

He could also promptly get plowed into by another drone, which had suffered from the same AI malfunction as the first, and have to go to Recovery Girl for the resultant broken arm.  

.

Sometimes, Izuku wondered if his quirk had a mind of its own, and, if so, what was up with its sense of humor.  

No one was expelled.  

.

Izuku stared at the numbered ball in his hand.  He’d decided to take it easy in the luck department today, not leaning on it either way, but, really, this was far too much, just to make things even.  

Next to him, stood Uraraka, who he might finally have a real conversation with.  Across from him, stood Kacchan, who was definitely going to take this opportunity to beat the crap out of him.  

Thank goodness nothing big was riding on this Battle Trial.  Even if All Might kept looking at him like he was going to say something life-altering.  

Actually…  Was All Might related to Mr. Yagi?  No, that was silly.  Just because two people worked in the same place and had similar mannerisms, and the same color of hair, and the same color of eyes, and the same smile, and similar heights, didn’t mean… um…  Hm.  

That was a thought for later.  

For now…

“My quirk is called Gambler’s Fallacy,” said Izuku.  “It lets me manipulate my luck.  I can store up bad things that happen to me, and then use them to make me lucky later, or, if I don’t have any luck stored, I can make myself lucky now, but I have to pay for it later.  I can also make myself unlucky on purpose, and store up the bad things that happen because of that.  But I don’t have anything stored up right now, since I spent it all yesterday, during the quirk assessment.”

“Wow,” said Uraraka, “that sounds really complicated.  So, you could just… make us win?”

“Not exactly.  If winning or losing was based entirely on chance, then, yes, but it isn’t.  This is mostly skill and ability.”  

“Mm,” said Uraraka.  “So we’ll just have to be more skilled!  Anyway, even if you can’t make us win, we’ll know that we didn’t lose just because of dumb luck, right?”

Izuku nodded.  “You’re right!  I, um, I do have a plan.”

“Let’s hear it!”

.

Izuku’s quirk apparently thought winning  was worth breaking an arm (again).  Maybe if he factored in Recovery Girl’s quirk, he could understand that.  

But it still hurt.  

(And Kacchan was still angry.  Izuku wished he’d stop blaming all of his bad luck on him.  Even if it was Izuku, this time.)

.

Getting trampled twice in one day, first by reporters, then by people running away from reporters, was definitely bad luck.  

.

“I tend to say whatever is on my mind,” said Asui– No.  Tsu.  She said to call her Tsu.

“Okay?” said Izuku.  

“Your quirk is very hard to understand.”

“Ah, yeah,” said Izuku, rubbing the back of his neck.  “It is.  I’m really glad quirks grow with you.  If I was able to push my luck then as much as I can now, I probably would have died.”  As it was, he'd gotten into a few bad situations over the years.  Once, while operating with neutral luck, he'd won a contest that was apparently more chance-based than advertised, and the results had been… interesting.

('Interesting' being code for terrifying.)

“Hah!” scoffed Kacchan.  “There’s nothing hard to understand about it!  He just sabotages everyone around him!”

“Like you’re any better,” said Kaminari, as Izuku slouched down in his seat, trying to disappear.  “If you don’t tone things down, all of us will be deaf by the time we graduate!”

“I could make you some earplugs, if you think that would help,” offered Yaoyorozu.  

.

As it turned out, being attacked by a whole league of villains during the first field trip of the school year was so absolutely, unmitigatedly bad that it topped off Izuku’s ‘gauge.’  The last time that had happened, he’d been in elementary school.  

It meant that he danced around the first attacks with ease, and when he did fall through a portal, it deposited him right outside a very clearly labeled maintenance door.  It was locked, but Izuku’s costume didn’t include a utility belt just for aesthetics.  He pulled a set of ‘universal’ keys out of one of the pouches, jammed the first one he grabbed into the lock, and grinned as he heard all the tumblers click home.  

Random chance was his friend today.

He ran up, into a sort of control room.  Several of the screens were blinking, warning that the system had lost connection to the main campus.  He cleared the warnings and swept his eyes over the controls.  There was a set of headphones on one of the monitors, and he put them on.  They’d been sized for someone bigger than him, but that was fine.  There were sounds coming through them, so… There.  He could switch freely between hidden microphones in a number of places, apparently.

More importantly, at the moment, he could control vital aspects of a number of the simulations.  He got to work, draining the shipwreck zone, strategically flaring the fires in the conflagration zone, activating a landslide in the landslide zone, ‘rebuilding’ collapsed houses in the typhoon zone…  Anything he could think of, to damage the chances of villains and let his classmates escape.  

Then, his elbow hit the microphone button, switching what the headphone channel to the central plaza just in time to hear ‘Shigaraki Tomura’ order ‘Nomu’ to kill Mr. Aizawa.  

.

All Might burst through the doors before Izuku could even begin to come up with a plan to escape the frankly horrifying Nomu, and never before had Izuku been so relieved to feel his luck drain away and equalize.  

All Might was here - and that was apparently equal to the villains in the eyes of his quirk.  They’d be safe, now.  They were saved.  

Izuku almost cried.  

Then he really did cry as Nomu and the portal villain actually proved to be a challenge.  If Nomu could hold All Might still, and the portal villain could portal one of All Might’s limbs to Shigaraki Tomura…  Or even if the portal villain could close a portal with something in transit…  

But that didn’t happen.  

Instead, All Might punched Nomu through the roof of the USJ.

Izuku tracked Nomu’s meteoric rise with a sense of wonder.  His quirk was great and all, but he’d never, ever be able to do anything like that.  

The rest of the teachers piled through the hole All Might had made in the side of the USJ, and the portal villain swept himself and Shigaraki Tomura away.  Izuku, finally, let himself relax, loosening his grip on his quirk.  

He… didn't think that anyone had died.  That was as lucky as they could possibly expect to be.

.

The problem with the sports festival was that the positive Izuku’s quirk was only effective for short periods of time.

Could he constantly maintain a low level of good luck, like he could with the bad?  Technically, yes.  He’d been tempted to do just that more than once.  But if he ever lost grip on his quirk while he was carrying around a big luck debt…  Well.  It was better to be owed luck than to owe it.  When not being actively managed, his quirk tended to just equalize.  

Could he save up and then slowly spend his good luck?  Again, technically, yes, but… and this was something Izuku was embarrassed to admit…

He was bad at spending good luck slowly.  In fact, not only did he usually push his good luck to happen faster than it usually would, when he was using that side of his quirk, he tended to overshoot.  By a lot.  Hence incidents like at the end of the entrance practical.  

(He was glad he hadn’t overdrawn his luck at the USJ.  He’d probably have had Nomu fall on him or something.)

If he wanted to do well in the sports festival, he couldn’t do that.  It wouldn’t do him any good to win, say, a relay race, like they’d done for the second event  a couple years ago, and then step on his shoelace and concuss himself before he could do anything for the next event.  

So.  He had to figure out how to either regulate his quirk use better, or how to pass at least one event without using it.  Preferably both.  

.

Izuku kept his quirk in neutral until the minefield.  Who decided that a minefield was a good idea for a school sports festival?  Well…  Plus Ultra, he supposed.  

He had an idea.  

He had an idea he needed to be lucky for.  But he'd only have to be lucky for a minute.  Maybe even less.  

He put his scrap metal shield aside, and started stacking mines.  When he figured he had enough, and had them in more or less the right shape, he picked up his scrap metal and, using it to shield himself, jumped on the mines.  

He went soaring.  It was exhilarating.  It was terrifying.  It was working.  

Kacchan and Todoroki were in sight.  He was gaining on them.  He was–

Getting hit by a bird. 

He tumbled sideways, away from Todoroki and Kacchan.  Barely, he managed to get the shield under him again, before he hit the ground and another mine went off, sending him shooting in the other direction.  He landed back in the path Todoroki and Kacchan had cleared, which was weird if his luck had run out…

It hadn’t run out.  

Then where had the bird…?  Why…?

It didn’t matter.  What mattered was that he wasn’t going to try that again, but he need to get a move on if he wanted to finish this race.  He wrenched his quirk back to neutral, and started running.  

He came in third, and collapsed in the waiting area.  Yeah.  Running.  Being exploded.  Still hard.  

It took a while for everyone else to cross the finish line.  A while during which Izuku wondered why he’d been hit by that bird.  Maybe Kouda…?  No, he was nowhere nearby, and he usually didn’t make his helpers commit suicide runs which… that probably was, unfortunately.  Was his quirk just broken?  He didn’t like the thought of that.  His quirk screwed him over in a lot of ways, but it had never backstabbed him or failed to work.  

But as soon as Midnight announced the results…

Yeah.  

His quirk wasn’t broken.  

(He’d have to burn some incense for that poor bird, though.  Yikes.)

He, in third place, had a headband worth two hundred points for the next event.  Kacchan had one worth two hundred and five.  

Todoroki’s was worth ten million.  

.

Izuku’s calvary team was made up of Uraraka, Tokoyami, and Hatsume, an unfamiliar girl from the support course.  Hatsume was the rider.  Izuku didn’t have any offensive quirk that being rider would let him leverage, Uraraka didn’t want to be in a position where she would have to use her quirk on herself, and Tokoyami and Dark Shadow were strong together.  Hatsume, meanwhile, had all sorts of unbelievable gadgets that she could operate from the rider position.  

Between her and Tokoyami, their ability to collect headbands shouldn’t be bad.  While everyone else went after Todoroki and Kacchan, they should be able to snag smaller point values.  Once they got a comfortable number, they could use Hatsume’s jetpacks and hide out in the air until the clocks ran down.

“I’m impressed,” she said, after Izuku finished explaining the plan.  

“It’s nothing fancy.”

“Not that, third place.  I’m impressed you’re letting someone else take the spotlight.”

“Well,” said Izuku, “I’m… probably not going to be a spotlight hero, honestly.  My quirk isn’t all that fancy.”

“Hm.  Maybe.  I feel like we’ll be surprised.”

And maybe she was right.

The more chaos inherent in a system, the more Izuku’s quirk could do.  The cavalry battle had a lot of chaos.

So, when Izuku flared his quirk to give them just that little edge, trying to keep their points out of Iida’s hands–

Rin’s team and Kamakiri’s team slipped and fell as Honenuki overshot his quirk use, becoming immediately disqualified.  Monoma brushed against Todoroki… while he already was holding Kacchan’s quirk.  The explosion wasn’t the biggest Izuku had ever seen, but it wasn’t small.  Kaminari, startled, shocked Iida, who stumbled, and almost capsized their whole team, letting Kacchan almost grab the ten million point headband, except that Todoroki suddenly caught on fire.  

Izuku shut his quirk off.  He’d used more luck than he intended, but he still has some for later, and for now…

“Take us up, Hatsume!”

“Thought you’d never ask, third place!”

.

When they landed, they hadn’t finished in first place, but they were far from dropping out, which was a true relief.  

The third event was single combat, which, hm.  Yeah.  His odds weren’t good on this.  He was planning on losing a lot of the recreational games between the second and third rounds, but the stakes of those were low, so he wouldn’t get a lot of luck from them.  In a bare concrete ring, one on one, skill against skill, with almost no outside variables…  It was possible for his quirk to make someone trip over their own feet, or get weird muscle spasms, but under these circumstances, it would be expensive.

Well, there was a little interlude even before that, so he was going to go freshen up…

.

Neither Izuku nor his quirk could decide what kind of luck overhearing all that counted as.  First Todoroki trying to have some kind of rivalry heart-to-heart with Kacchan, where he heavily implied he was the result of a eugenics project, and then whatever that was with his father.  Should he report this?  Who would he even report this to?  Who would believe him?  

He was kind of freaking out.  

And Todoroki’s quirk.

“I thought I was the only one who had self sabotage as part of my quirk,” he whispered.  

Actually, he was pretty angry about that.  Edging into fury, really.  It wasn’t like Todoroki was the only one who’d been dealt a bad hand when it came to fathers, but Izuku wasn’t refusing to use his quirk over it, even though his father’s permanent departure had been the inciting incident for his quirk’s first activation.

(His father abandoning them had, actually, given Izuku a small reserve of good luck that took several days to naturally deplete.  It was something Izuku was perversely grateful for, knowing what his quirk might have done to him otherwise.)

But what could he do?

Except, maybe…  He’d used his fire instinctively, in the cavalry battle.  Maybe if someone could pressure him…

Could Izuku do that?  

No.  Probably not.  Not without a lot of luck. 

… this was going to be painful later.  

.

Of course, he couldn’t beat sense into Todoroki unless he actually made it to the second round of battles.  Making it to the second round of battles seemed… unlikely, at the moment.  His quirk couldn’t protect him from his own stupid decisions, after all.

He was walking towards the edge of the ring, not in control of his body, barely in control of his quirk, which he had turned on as much as he could.  

He tripped.  Over his own feet, as it so happened.

Before Shinsou could react, he was back on his feet and attacking.  Shinsou’s story sounded… sad.  Lonely.  But Izuku had lived the same life!  He’d been called bad luck and a vampire ever since he’d first fully explained his quirk!  He wanted to commiserate!  To comfort!  To empathize!

But, right now, it was time to fight, and he threw Shinsou out of the ring.  

.

Unfortunately, getting out of Shinsou’s grip had come at the cost of his remaining luck.  That meant that if he used any for the fight with Todoroki - a fight he was almost certain to lose anyway - he’d be paying for it later.  

But could he really leave this alone?  Being a hero was risky.  Being a hero while using only half your quirk was worse.  

The match started, and Izuku jumped.  He was lucky, of course.  Todoroki had pretty good control of his ice, but there were, naturally, random peaks and valleys in the less-controlled parts, and Izuku happened to fall into a valley.  He also managed to break off an ice spike on the way down.  

Lacking other weapons, he threw it at Todoroki.  

“You know,” said Izuku, managing to hide from ice behind yet more ice, and acquiring a few more projectiles while he was at it, “if you used your fire to melt these, you wouldn’t have to dodge!”

This actually stopped Todoroki dead in his tracks.  “You–”

“I overheard your conversation with Kacchan!”  Izuku dodged again.  “Do you really think you can be a hero using only half a quirk?  When all the rest of us are trying our–”

He was forced to dodge again.  This went on for some time.  Izuku, barely manage to dodge, Todoroki whipping another, more fragile, glacier at him, Izuku throwing ice and words he barely heard himself back at him.

Izuku, though… He was wearing down.  The temperature was getting to him, and Todoroki had winged him a few times.  

“I won’t do it!” declared Todoroki through gritted teeth.  “I won’t use his quirk!  I’ll show him–”

“It’s not his!  It’s yours!  Use your quirk, Todoroki!  Show me your power!”

Through the ice, Izuku saw orange flare from the tips of Todoroki’s fingers.

The thought crossed Izuku’s mind that suddenly heating up this much cold air might not go very well.  For the very first time in his life, Izuku’s survival instinct decided to do its job and he threw himself out of the ring just in time for Cementoss to raise the blast walls to contain Todoroki’s explosion.

“Uh,” said Midnight a minute later.  “Todoroki, wins?”

Izuku was just as surprised as she was that he hadn’t been turned into a fine paste.  Of course, that could still happen.  He had a massive bout of bad luck coming up.  

Still.  Lying here next to two Pro Heroes, he was probably safe.

.

Izuku tripped going down the stairs leaving the ring.  

“How do you break so many bones going down stairs?” asked Recovery Girl, incredulously.  

Izuku grunted.  Broken bones could be healed.  So could frostbite.  

But, for him at least, the sports festival was over.  He just had to hope he’d made a good impression.

.

(Todoroki joined him in the infirmary an hour later.

“Bakugou is extremely violent,” he said, by way of explanation.

“Yeah, he’s kind of…  Yeah.”

“You’re still friends.”

“Uh,” said Izuku.  “Maybe?”

“What’s your phone number?”

Somehow, Izuku wound up adding Todoroki to the class group chat.)

.

“Who sent your recommendation?” asked Uraraka, over lunch.  

“Native!” said Izuku, vibrating with excitement.  His quirk was kind of boring, visually, and hard to understand, so he hadn’t expected to get any offers at all!

“Native?” asked Uraraka, her face dropping.  “Isn’t he kind of, um.  His whole image is a bit…”

“Appropriative?” filled in Iida.  

“That’s a misconception,” said Izuku.  “He actually is native.  His father is Japanese, obviously, but he’s Ainu, and his mother is from an indigenous North American tribe.  They met at some kind of conference for displaced indigenous peoples, I think?  The documentary was really interesting, but it’s been a while…  I think there was later some kind of controversy with his mother, but I don’t really understand American politics…”

“Oh!” said Uraraka.  “I didn’t know that!  I guess I should try to research, before just assuming things.”

“It’s…  It’s a common misconception,” said Izuku, waving his hands.  “A company he’d investigated for illegal quirk experimentation ran a really nasty smear campaign against him, and, uh, his public persona isn’t really great.”  Which was the polite way to say that he got irritated at reporters (and everyone else) really easily.  “The important thing is, you know now.”

“Mhm!  I guess so!  That’s a really good way to put it.”  She leaned forward.  “I really like your hero name!  It’s super cute!”

“Thanks!” said Izuku, brightly.  “I’ve wanted to use it since I was a little kid!”

.

The ride to Hosu was painfully awkward.  Mainly because every attempt Izuku made to try and start a conversation with Iida fell flatter than a pancake.  

Not that he blamed Iida!  He probably had a lot on his mind, after all.

.

“He-hello, sir!” said Izuku, bowing deeply to Native, who had been leaning up against the front desk of his agency, talking to the secretary.  “I’m Clover!  Y-your intern!  Please take care of me!”

“Hey, hey,” said Native, “there’s really no reason to be like that, it’s irritating.  You need to loosen up a little, kid.”

“Y-yes, sir!”

Native sighed.  “Okay, anyway, you good here, Satsumi?”

“Yes, I think I have all the information,” said the secretary.  

“Great.  So, I guess I can give you the tour and the intern talk.”

Native’s agency wasn’t anything fancy.  A lot of things in it were worn out.  Old.  But, then, after the smear campaign, it was probably hard for him to get sponsorships.

“So, Clover,” said Native, after he had given him a rundown of the temporary dorms and the main common areas, “why did you decide to intern with me?”

“W-well,” said Izuku, “for a couple reasons.  The first is that you’re the only one who requested me, specifically, as opposed to agencies that just have general agreements with UA, so I figured there was probably a reason for that.”

“Uh huh,” said Native, sounding unimpressed, “what else?”

“Well, you also have a strictly mental quirk.  Not a lot of heroes have that, not the ones on UA’s open internship list.  Ragdoll and Mandalay from the Wild Wild Pussycats are the only other ones, and… I’d be worried about being a liability in a rescue situation.”

“Anything else?”

“I don’t think so?  Of course, your record was–”

“Nothing else that might have been in the news?”

“Um.  No?”

Native nodded. “I’m surprised anyone took me up on my offer this year, honestly.”

“Be-because of the smear campaign? I, um, I never believed it.  I remembered your interview when you talked about your parents, so…”

“Ah.  Okay.  That makes sense.  Sorry.  Just had to make sure you weren’t one of those weirdos who try to congratulate me for ‘sticking it’ to an already oppressed group.”  He sighed.  “You’d think we’d have solved at least some of these problems, since we got superpowers, but no, we just came up with even more ways to be awful.”

“O-oh,” said Izuku.  “Sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” said Native, waving off the apology.  “So.  Tell me about your quirk.”

.

Native’s quirk, compared to Izuku’s, was simple.  It affected his perception.  Not his senses themselves, but the way his brain processed the data from those senses.  His eyes and ears weren’t any sharper than a normal person’s, but what he could process about what he could see and hear was.  And he could do it fast.  He could glance at a full page of writing for a second, and know everything that was written on it.  

It wasn’t terribly like Izuku’s quirk, and didn’t affect the outside world, like Izuku’s did, but like Izuku’s, the activation and management of the quirk were all in his head.  Which meant that he could advise Izuku on how to better use it.  

Unfortunately, Native seemed more interested in the stockpile aspect of his quirk.

“So,” said Native, “hypothetically, if something bad happened to you that had nothing to do with luck, would that count?  Like, if someone decided to hit you.”

“Um, not really.  Like, whenever someone throws a punch, there’s a small amount of chance involved in it hitting at all, but that’s, um, negligible, as far as I’ve been able to tell.”

“So you couldn’t bank luck by, say, purposefully getting assigned crappy paperwork?”

“Uh,” said Izuku, “no.  Not unless the paperwork was randomly assigned and I was leaning on the negative side of my quirk to get it.”

“Okay.  And, then, what if you traded the paperwork to someone else, afterwards?”

“I think I…  I’m not sure?  If I’d set the trade up before hand, probably, um, it’d just do whatever would get me the bad paperwork?”

“What if you needed the bad paperwork for some reason?”

“Then I’d have to use good luck, otherwise I wouldn’t get it.”

“What if you needed something bad to happen to you for some reason?  Like, you wanted to break your arm or get sick to get out of a school assignment?”

“Oh, I actually tried… something like that a few times.”  Not to avoid school work, but to avoid bullies.  “It only worked once, and I really regretted it.”

“Got really sick, huh?”

“Yeah,” said Izuku.  

“Okay,” said Native.  “I’ve got to go out on patrol soon, but I’ve asked Satsumi to give you the basic operational rundown.  Pro-tip?  It’s always the secretaries who are really running the show.”

“I-I’ll remember that, sir!”

“Yeah, yeah.  Anyway, enjoy the break, because I already have some training ideas for tomorrow.”

.

“So,” said Native as Izuku ran through his costume checklist.  “The thing is, even though our quirks are pretty different, there are still some similarities in– Hey, are you paying attention?”

“Yes, s-sir!”

“Uh huh.  There are some similarities in how we have to fight because of them.  Both of us have to rely heavily on the environment and respond to changes in it quickly.  Me, because that’s the only advantage I have, you, because even if your quirk gives you the best opening possible, you still have to move to take advantage of it.  So.”  He gestured at the crowded room, packed full of various random items.  “That’s what we’re doing.  Simulating a changeable environment for you to keep track of.  You ready?”

“Yes!”

.

“I’m going to take you out on patrol today,” said Native.

“R-really?”

“I wouldn’t say it if I wasn’t going to.  There’s a limited amount you can learn from sparring and helping Satsumi with the paperwork - The paperwork is really important, though.  If you screw it up enough, it can break you.  Mainly because of insurance problems.  You don’t want insurance problems.  Or Hero Commission problems.  If they decide they don’t like you, they’ll jump on anything they can to get rid of you.”

Izuku made note of this important fact.  

“Anyway, unless I give you permission, or you’re directly attacked, you are not to engage any villains or criminals, got it?  And if I tell you to run, you run.”

“I-I’ve got it!”

“Cool.  So.  Ready to make your debut, Clover?”

“Yes!”

“Great.  Oh, and bring those marbles.  They worked well for you in yesterday’s session.”

.

The first few hours of patrol went more or less the way Izuku expected it to.  There wasn’t a whole lot of crime in Hosu at this time of day.  Native caught an older teenager trying to break into a car, and gave him a warning for a first offense, they were called to a four-year-old’s somewhat awkward and chaotic quirk awakening - which Izuku helped with! - and a welfare check for an older couple who had missed a book club meeting (they were fine, they had just gotten the date wrong).  Otherwise, it was just walking around Hosu, including some really sketchy alleyways, Native pointing out things to keep an eye on and how to spot trouble in specific places.

But, then… things exploded.  

It wasn’t like Izuku was unused to explosions.  He’d gone to school with Kacchan.  But this explosion was bigger, and had a different character than Danny was used to.  It was also, thankfully, further away.  

Still, the middle of a city like this was not a good place for an explosion.  He started forward, towards the source of the sound, but Native caught his arm.  

“Never,” he said, pulling out his phone (a HeroGrade 32!  They weren’t available to the public, yet!), “never run blind into a situation when you can gather info first.”

“But–” 

“There are other heroes with closer routes,” said Native.  “We can be more useful if we know what’s going on first.  Crap.  Looks like a mass villain attack.”  He flipped his phone to face Izuku. A HeroNet video was playing on it.

He caught sight of exposed brain matter and gasped.  “Nomu?”

“You know one of these guys?”

“No,” said Izuku, “but they look just like one of the villains that attacked the USJ!  Maybe they’re relatives?”

“Any weaknesses?”

“No, they were really strong.  All Might had trouble, even.”

“Crap.  Hopefully, these guys don’t have the same kind of quirk.  Come on, now that we know what we’re up against, the faster we get there, the better.”  He started running.  “I want you to work with on-site sidekicks clearing civilians from the area.  You can use your quirk, but if your stockpile runs out, evacuate with the civilians.  If you get cornered, I give you permission to fight, but only if you get cornered.  Otherwise, run, got it?”

“Ye-yes!” said Izuku.  It was easier for him to keep up with Native than he’d thought it would be, but he didn’t quite have the lung capacity to respond with full sentences.

They turned into an alley and– 

Native stopped dead, scanning the area.  

“Uh, Native?” said Izuku.  “Is–?”

Native pulled him to one side as something fell on them from above.  No.  Not something.  Someone.  Someone– Vest, bandaged arms, scarf, swords–

Native, naturally, processed the information much faster than Izuku.  

“Stain!”

Oh. 

Izuku pulled on his quirk instinctively and reached for his belt, grabbing the first thing that came to hand and throwing it at Stain.  The handful of marbles hit the side of Stain’s beaten katana and knocked it aside enough for Native to dodge.  

But Stain had another knife, and it flicked against Native’s stomach, cutting through his suit and drawing blood.  The wound looked shallow, though, so–

Stain licked his knife, and Native stiffened mid-step and started to fall.  Izuku caught him, then pulled him back, out of Stain’s immediate reach.

“I-I can’t move!” said Native, sounding shocked.

“A… sidekick?” said Stain.  

“He’s just-”  Native’s breath caught.  “He’s a student.  An intern.  I’ve only known him for a day.  Don’t–”

“A day is more than long enough for the rot to creep in.  Well, boy, do you stand by this fake, or will you give up his lies?”

“Clover, run!” 

“I-” said Izuku, “I won’t leave you!”  He also wasn’t sure if he’d make it, even if he did run.  Stain was good, as shown by how he’d still managed to stab Native, even though Izuku was using his quirk, and with the way the alley was constructed, they were standing in a corner, the direct path to the street blocked and blinded by buildings.  

“Then you, too, will be culled.”

Izuku jumped back from the lunge, unfortunately sacrificing his phone to deflect the blade.  Hopefully, the text he’d been making behind his back had gone through… he might not be connected to HeroNet, but he did have a network, and he knew at least two of them were in this city.

He hoped this worked.  

Then, faster than could be believed, it did.  Iida came racing around the corner and–

–apparently didn’t notice Izuku and Native fighting for their lives at all, but Izuku was willing to give him a pass, because he was a) there, b) clearly really upset by what happened to his brother, and c) took Stain’s attention off of him and Native.  Whatever.  But he also narrowly missed getting decapitated, and only avoided getting paralyzed by Stain because Izuku had picked up Iida’s helmet and beaned Stain over the back of the head with it.  

“What are you doing here?” demanded Iida.  

This was such a ridiculous question that Izuku didn’t answer it.  He was getting attacked by a serial killer.  That should’ve been obvious.

“Take Native and leave, this is my business.”

“You take Native and leave!” 

Iida could maintain a viable escape speed while carrying Native, unlike Izuku, and then Izuku could also run, no longer having to worry about whether or not he was leaving someone to their death.  Unfortunately, Stain did not wait for Izuku to explain this to Iida.  

What followed could have been a slapstick comedy.  Stain lunged, but put his foot down on a marble, which let Izuku and Iida dodge.  He recovered quickly, however, and swiped at Iida, who he called a fake hero - this was technically correct, as neither Iida nor Izuku had their licenses yet - but the blade was deflected by Iida’s armor, and all the blow accomplished was to knock a piece of Iida’s armor loose.  

(Izuku had to wonder if Iida’s costume manufacturer had skimped on the connective parts of his armor.  Parts of a costume shouldn’t just come off like that, except for capes, for safety reasons.)

But loose metal junk was one of Izuku’s favorite weapons, and when the bracer landed in his hand, he didn’t waste time throwing it at Stain’s face.  Then he pulled out his other favorite weapon.  A telescoping baton.  

He didn’t have it during the USJ, but after the sports festival…  Yeah.  He’d realized he needed something, and Mei had been all too happy to fulfill that need.  Literally too happy.  Powerloader had nixed most of her ideas and given Izuku a standard baton until he could work out potential bugs.  

Anyway.  

He alternated between throwing trash at Stain (the alley had a lot of trash) and trying to smack him with the baton.  Iida, meanwhile, tried to kick his face off.  The only reason they weren’t dead - or paralyzed like Native - was that Stain kept slipping on marbles and getting weapons stuck in the alley walls.  They were not, in any way, winning.  

Then Todoroki arrived like a divine spirit descending from heaven, and froze Stain solid.  

Well.  He didn’t freeze Stain immediately.  There was quite a bit of back and forth, because it turned out that the dodging technique Izuku had lucked into during the sports festival was something Stain could do at will.  And he tried to kill Todoroki too, a few times.  And there was some stabbing involved, but with Todoroki there, they could freeze the blood, and Iida was only paralyzed for a little bit, and all the while everyone was yelling about their personal philosophies, and heroism, and All Might, and–

His point was, after Todoroki showed up, it felt like the fight went really fast.  

But with Stain frozen, Izuku felt like he could relax just a little…

… and lose his grip on his quirk, which was very far in the red.  

Claws closed around his torso, and he was swiftly lifted from the alley.  Swiftly enough that his head cracked on the side of one of the buildings and he lost consciousness.  

.

Later, he learned that the nomu (which was apparently a class of being and not a family or personal name) had carried him around, apparently confused, for fifteen minutes before a flight-capable hero named Gran Torino rescued him.

He was, naturally, brought to the hospital, and, equally naturally, was the most injured out of the four people in that alleyway (not counting Stain, who they had really beaten the crap out of, apparently).  

He was relieved to hear that everyone had lived, and the nomu attack had only resulted in a few serious injuries, due to the strong hero presence in Hosu.  

He was significantly less relieved to hear that the police were thinking about charging him with vigilantism.  

.

“What the hell are you talking about?” asked Native, who had evidently overheard the police chief while taking a walk down the hallway.  “Clover had my permission to fight, if he was cornered.  Which he was.  I don’t know about the other two, but legally speaking, my intern is in the clear.” 

Izuku sighed in relief.  He didn’t think he and his mother could afford to go to court. 

“And kid?”

“Y-yes?”

“Stop using your quirk while you’re this beat up.  I know it’s instinctive, but I don’t want you to wind up getting an air embolism or something stupid from the kickback.”

“Oh,” said Izuku.  “Yes, sir.”

.

In preparation for the first term’s final exam, Izuku eased himself back into days where everything was just a little bit awful.  

He tore a hole in his favorite sweater.  He fell off a building during the Rescue Training Race.  Mr. Yagi kept staring at him with that weird expression when he went to volunteer.  He got every question he guessed on wrong on the mock exam.  He let himself get fleeced by Uraraka in small-scale gambling games.  He lost every round of rock-paper-scissors he played.  His mother sneezed and accidentally cut off way too much of his hair while giving him a trim, and Monoma started calling him a sheared sheep.  All Might kept staring at him with that weird expression during heroics lessons.  He lost a lot of in-class fights for silly reasons, like the elastic in his pants giving way, or, in one case, random neutrino interaction with the program controlling a simulation.  

It was good practice for when - not if, when - his quirk decided to screw him over in the middle of a real fight.  

But, maybe, Izuku should have realized that decisions about the final would be made significantly in advance of the final actually happening, and he wouldn’t have kept his quirk going until the last minute.  

Maybe then he wouldn’t have been paired with Kacchan.  Maybe then, they wouldn’t be facing All Might himself.  

Maybe then he wouldn’t be lying on the ground, bleeding, with Kacchan screaming at him to take his ‘stupid bad luck deku self’ and go away.  

In the end, however, Kacchan was the one who stomped away.  Izuku was left to slowly sit up, still feeling stunned.  Part of him couldn’t believe Kacchan still held a grudge over childhood quirk slip ups, especially considering what he had done to Izuku with his quirk.  Part of him… very much could.  

Kacchan was a jerk.  

Although… Izuku probably should have tried to come up with a plan more palatable than ‘run away.’  He’d known that Kacchan would never accept anything less than a perfect victory after the sports festival.

He shook his head, even though that made his ears ring, and pulled a coin out of one of his suit’s pouches.  In theory, this should work.  He had pretty good evidence of this usually working, for less vital things.

He flared his quirk and flipped the coin.  Heads, he’d go with his original plan, and try to escape.  Tails, he’d try to back up Kacchan.    

Heads.  

Well, then.  

.

It turned out that Izuku’s quirk was pretty good for stealth, given a large enough playing field.  

.

Izuku let go of his quirk as soon as he stepped through the gate, pleased to note that he still had some luck left.  Intending to keep it that way, and not spend it trying not to get murdered by Kacchan, he decided to jog back to where the other groups were waiting. 

Judging by the explosions behind him, this was a wise choice.  

He didn’t go back to his usual low grade bad luck until he was home safe, with the knowledge that he would be going to the training camp, and Kacchan wouldn’t be.

.

Except it turned out the students who had failed were going on the trip after all.  Yay.

.

Low grade bad luck was not supposed to include Shigaraki Tomura crashing a shopping trip, and yet.  

At least the ridiculous threat to his life - how had Shigaraki even recognized him?  He’d spent most of the time in the USJ in the maintenance room! - meant that he had a bit of extra luck to lean into, and he was hoping that Mr. Aizawa, or, heck, even All Might had decided this was a good day to shop, too.

But as the conversation wore on, it became obvious that his current quasi-kidnapped state was a direct result of his last kidnapping.  Shigaraki wanted to know “What did you do to my nomu?” and “What did you do to Stain?” and, most importantly, “Why do people pay attention to Stain and not me?” 

Which, in Izuku’s opinion, was a pretty petty thing for a supervillain to worry about, but this supervillain did have a dangerous quirk pointed at Izuku’s throat, so he wasn’t about to say that.  

“W-well,” he said, instead, “Stain is… understandable.  He has goals.  And even if you don’t agree with his goals, they’re pretty clear.  What he wants is… normal.  And the source of his conviction– It’s All Might!  It’s like that for a lot of people.  Even if the way he’s going about fulfilling his goals isn’t something people can accept.  You…  I don’t think anyone understands what you want.  What your, um, ideals are…”

“Ha,” said Shigaraki.  “Ha.”  

Izuku didn’t dare move.  He didn’t dare swallow.  Shigaraki’s middle finger was so close to his throat…

“I get it now,” he said, a horrible smile-like thing on his face.  “It’s all so clear now.  It all makes sense.  It’s so obvious why the hero killer is so irritating.  It’s all because of All Might.”  He laughed again.  “Right?  Right.  That’s the conclusion.  Man.  Of course it was All Might.  It’s always him.  The reason all these idiots can smile– It’s him!  Him, smiling, as if there’s no one he can’t save!”

At this point, Izuku started to tune him out, because it was hard to pay attention to something as trivial as words when you’re actively being strangled.  

And then, right when he was sure he was going to die one way or the other, Uraraka showed up.  

.

“I think I hate that guy,” said Izuku to Uraraka, later.  

“Yeah,” she said.  “Me too.”

.

Well, the training camp was going well.  And by well, Izuku meant he sure was training.  A lot.  

He was also, for some reason, catching a small ball-punching child who had been knocked off a wall by a pervert.  

They really should come up with some method to stop Mineta before he took things too far…  Some of his stunts were getting scary. 

But that was a task for tomorrow!  The task for today was listening to the story of a horrible family tragedy and then passing out.  

But then it turned out that the task for tomorrow was more training, and then–

And then the Test of Courage was crashed by a bunch of villains.  

.

The forest was filled with toxic gasses and fire, and there was a grade schooler somewhere on the mountain, but this was fine!  Totally fine!  Izuku had this handled!  And there were actual adults, trained heroes, who were not paralyzed, here, so, really, this was more like the USJ than the fight with Stain!

… Shockingly, this observation didn’t make him feel better.  

Finding Kouta did make him feel better.  

Encountering Muscular seconds later didn’t.  

Nor did discovering that the villains planned to kidnap Kacchan and Tokoyami.  At least Kacchan was safe back with the other people who’d failed the test.  Tokoyami, not so much.  

He had mixed feelings about the results of throwing the nearest stick at Muscular.  He’d prefer that he not be known as the hero who habitually put out people’s eyes, but if he complained about it, that would mean he survived to complain about it.

He took the opportunity to run.  

.

Izuku would very much like to know why Kacchan was out here and not safely back in the buildings with Vlad King and Mr. Aizawa.  

.

Why was Moonfish here?  Didn't Shigaraki know the reason Moonfish got caught was because he tried to eat his accomplice?

.

There was a shape-shifter involved.  This explained nothing.  

.

Why didn't this guy become a stage magician or something?

.

Izuku managed to catch the right orb and break Kacchan free, but even the best luck in the world couldn't save you from stupidity.  Stupidity in this case being Kacchan immediately shoving Izuku away and getting caught by the villains again. 

So.

Kacchan got kidnapped. 

The villains left.

A tree fell on Izuku.

He was, of course, sent to the hospital.

.

In the hospital, he wondered if Kacchan’s last words to him before he was hauled into that portal were right.  If he was just bad luck.  If he should just stay away.  

If Kacchan's shove had kept *Izuku* from being taken.  

.

They were on a rescue mission, and none of that mattered.  They were going to Kamino Ward.

.

They were hiding behind a wall about a meter high.  It had been much taller a second ago.  

Izuku's quirk was screaming at him.  It had never done that before.  

They could hear All Might and the villain talking, and it was terrible, terrible what he'd done to Ragdoll, but… it filled in so many gaps.  It explained the nomu.  It explained Shigaraki’s hatred of All Might.  It explained why this villain was so powerful.

But.

None of that mattered right now.  What mattered was saving Kacchan. 

.

They were soaring high above the battlefield, and Kirishima held out his hand - the chances were one in a million or less, but– 

Kacchan was with them, and they were running.  

They made it out, made it away, and Izuku kept a tight grip on his quirk, because he wouldn't, couldn't, let any bad luck happen now.  Not when it could spill over onto that battle.  

Then he saw the screen.

Izuku looked at All for One, standing in the ruins of Kamino Ward, standing above All Might, Mr. Yagi, who struggled to stand, to make one more attack, protect one more person, and he knew–

All for One was a person with a lifetime’s worth of good luck.  

He was practically made of luck.  From his quirk, which had to be the best quirk Izuku had ever heard of - the ability to take and give quirks?  Really?  That was a thing? - to having found the right quirks to live for centuries, to surviving that ‘last’ fight with All Might that he’d mentioned, to flying under the hero world’s radar for so long.  He’d won the lottery of life.  

If Izuku ever got luck like that, it’d kill him.

He slowed, stopping behind his classmates and–

And he turned.

And he ran. 

He ran, and cranked his quirk up as high as it would go.  Made himself as lucky as he possibly could.  The luck, not having anywhere else to go, spilled out, touching everyone around him with its glow.  

The small cluster of cancer cells in a man he passed spontaneously died.  

A woman fumbled her phone and sent a text message that would one day radically change her life for the better.

Hospitals nearby recorded a practically unheard of rash of Lazarus Syndrome cases.  

Rubble from the battlefield shifted just enough that a family of four were able to crawl out of the ruins of their living room.

Uraraka's father won the lottery- a fact he wouldn't notice for another week, too worried about his daughter to check his prize.  

Damage in Iida Tensei's spine inexplicably reversed itself.  It was only by a small amount, but even if he'd still never walk, he'd be able to move and feel his legs.

None of the attacks All for One launched hit his target.  Not a single one.

Izuku was a shooting star.  A brilliant light, burning into nothing.  Izuku had never before accumulated so much debt on his quirk.  One way or another, he knew he never would again.  

He ran across fields of rubble that should have sent him sprawling.  He dodged stray attacks from a combatant who might not even register his presence.  He got closer and closer, impossibility unscathed, until he slid between Mr. Yagi and All for One just as Mr. Yagi was caught under the crushed walls of a building.

He bowed, the crown of his head touching broken concrete.  "Please!  Please don't kill him!  I- I- Take my quirk, do anything you want to me, but please don't kill him."

"No!  Young Midoriya!  Get out of here!"

"And why should I take your quirk?" asked All for One, sounding amused.  

"Because- Because my quirk is luck.  I just got across this battlefield, unscathed.  If you take my quirk, you'll never have to worry about- about the kinds of injuries you have again." That was a bit of a guess, but if he had to risk things on a guess, it would be now, with his quirk blazing inside him.  "No one would get lucky enough to even touch you.  Please.  Take it."

Because All for One's quirk had to work one of two ways.  Either it took a quirk as it had been when it first manifested, or it took it as it currently was.  

Izuku's quirk had taken into account his prior luck when it first manifested, and he was building up a massive debt, now.  His quirk was the perfect poison pill.  He just needed All for One to take it.  

"Well," said All for One.  "I don't know about sparing All Might, but I could never refuse a quirk offered up so nicely."

Izuku felt All for One's hand on his head.

What followed was agony, and after that, an aching, hollowness, and the sound of someone crying.  

Was… was Mr. Yagi crying over him?  That was silly.  He wasn't dead, and his plan was going great.  

"Now," said All for One, "All Might-"

A horrid orange light and a deafening crack filled the air, and when Izuku could see again, the top half of All for One's body was gone, and there was a smoking crater a few meters behind the legs.  Everything smelled faintly burnt.

"What," croaked All Might.

"Oh," said Izuku, faintly.  "I always worried something like that would happen to me."

He promptly passed out.  

.

Izuku stared up at the ceiling of his hospital room.  This would be the last time he could blame getting hurt on his quirk.  His quirk, which was well and truly gone, now, along with Ragdoll’s and countless others.  Not that he could’ve gotten it back from All for One if his plan hadn’t worked but…

He was quirkless now.  

Kacchan had always been a jerk, and there were more than a few people in his class that were jerks along with him, really believing that Izuku was giving them bad luck every time they failed a test.  But he’d had a few casual friends in middle school despite that, and except for the teachers who thought he’d been falsifying his quirk, they usually stopped Kacchan before he went too far.  

But he knew how they all talked about quirkless people.  He knew the statistics.  He… hadn’t really been thinking of the consequences when he came up with the plan.  Not that he regretted it!  He didn’t.  But he knew it would be hard to be a hero without a quirk.  

Or would it?  Would living like this be like his quirk was always in neutral?  Or would it be something entirely different?  It already felt like something different.  It felt… weird.  Not being aware of how his luck was going.  Like being blind.  And he knew his luck was just random, now.  Knew that bad luck wouldn’t mean good luck to follow, and good luck didn’t mean bad luck to follow but…  Even thinking that felt alien to him.  

He could have good luck forever.  He could have bad luck forever.  That was statistically unlikely, of course.  Either way, he had no control over it.

“Oh, Izuku!”

“H-hi, Mom,” he said, and let his mother fuss over him.  He wasn’t up for much conversation at the moment, unfortunately.  

Behind her, Mr. Yagi, walked in and quietly shut the door.  

“Um,” said Izuku, “a-am I in trouble?  I mean, I know, I know that I technically killed someone with my quirk, but, uh.  I did do that.  Oh my gosh.  Oh my gosh, you’re here to arrest me, I–”

“Nonsense, Young Izuku!  If anyone tries to charge you for that man accidentally killing himself with his own quirk, I will simply eat them.”

“And that’s if they get through me, first,” said his mother, pleasantly.  

“Oh,” said Izuku.  “So, why…?”

“Two reasons,” said Mr. Yagi.  “First, I wanted to thank you.  I’ve spent my entire career trying to get rid of that man.”

Izuku nodded.  ‘Get rid of’ was pretty ambiguous, here, but Izuku was the last person who could blame him for trying to kill the guy.  

“The other thing I wanted to talk to you about…”  Here, Mr. Yagi got that look on his face.  “I want to talk to you about a quirk called One for All.”

[stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale]

A while ago, you wrote that you were planning on writing an essay about the "subtextual queer-coding" of Louis's character... I want it bad, CJ.

I've said that a few times now; to quote myself from my Javier's bisexuality essay, "-one day I'll crawl out of my bog to write my analysis on the queer-coding/subtext of Louis' character because if I read "lmao Louis is such a Straight" one more time, I'm going to let the gators take a bite out of me just so that I can feel something other than irritation for once."

Dramatic, but that's how I felt in the moment of writing that essay.

I have two twdg essays I'm working on with other ideas on the backburners, not to mention essays and other projects for other fandoms on my side blogs, among more personal works... so y'know what, anon? For you, I'll do a impromptu mini-essay right now since I don't know when or if I'll ever have time to dedicate a full-length deep-dive essay to the topic.

Also, big thank you to @pi-creates for once again providing me with screenshots!

Louis is bisexual-coded and CJ's gonna prove it [probably]

First thing's first: queer-coding, what is it?

Just so that we're all on the same page, here's the basic idea: implications that a character is queer through intentional [but not always] subtext, and/or the use of stereotypes to indicate a character's queerness without outright stating it. It's been around forever; look up the history of The Hays Code to learn more, but essentially the film industry was like, "That's it! no swearing! no more blasphemy! no drugs or alcohol! and definitely no homosexuality! good, clean, god-loving movies only!"

So, what were writers and film makers to do? Why, they code their characters, of course.

There's a lot to learn about the history of queer coding, the good, the bad, the in-between--but I'm not here to give you that lecture. I'm here to talk about Louis.

Ah, Louis. My favorite TWDG character. Love him. Adore him. Written countless thought pieces on him. Definitely bisexual.

Well, to me he is, anyway.

It's like a spidey-sense in the back of my head, I look at Louis and I go, "I know what you are."

When it comes to interpreting media, my stance is that while authorial intent is important, it doesn't dictate my interpretation.

I lean more into "Death of the Author" in all the media I consume, whether that be books, movies, TV, video games, etc... unless there's a circumstance where I feel learning more about the author would benefit my reading of their material... hence why I care little for what the writers/devs of TFS say about the story/characters as I don't want their influence, yet I'm reading all of Tillie Walden's books in order to better understand the Clementine books for my analysis.

As a bisexual myself, it's true that I may just be projecting onto my favorite character due to my desire to see a bi4bi couple in one of my favorite video games. That's how most headcanons come to be, no? We wish to see ourselves represented in characters we love, especially when we feel mis/underrepresented in media.

I believe Louis has some queer coding going on. I don't believe it's intentional, but it doesn't need to be in order to exist. It's there, I feel it when I play the game, no one gets to tell me otherwise.

First let's tackle the idea of, "how can Louis be bi if he's never seen flirting with any guys?" ...because I have a feeling that might come from the same people who say "he's such a Straight," y'know?

We know for sure that Louis likes girls--he has a crush on Clementine no matter what, and he makes a point of saying he's never had a girlfriend before... so if he's bi, why doesn't he also point out that he's never had a boyfriend before?

Because Clementine's not a boy.

No, really, it's that simple. Clementine is his only love interest in TFS, and having him bounce around flirting with everyone wouldn't be in character for him. He's friendly, sure, but friendliness and being flirtatious aren't the same thing.

But if he's bi, why wouldn't he flirt with his best friend, Marlon, or with Aasim? Mitch? What about the great chef god Omar?

I don't know--why doesn't he flirt with Brody? Or Ruby?

Again, I must point you to my essay on Javier and how much I disapprove of this notion that all bisexual characters have to "prove" they're bi by flirting with all genders--if they aren't running around DTF with everyone, then are they really bisexual???

First of all, stop that. A lot of people, usually straight, are under the impression that bisexuality is about who and how many people you're dating/sleeping with when no, that's not it.

Second, why would he flirt with them? He's not that type of character, and none of them are his love interest. His love interest is Clementine.

In ep1, during the card game, Louis asks Clementine if she's ever had a boyfriend [he wants to gauge her interest in boys since he's a boy], and he says she can ask him if he's ever had a girlfriend before [letting her know he likes girls] and that he hasn't, by the way. Hint hint.

Louis has no reason to add that he's never had a boyfriend, either. The game's making its intent clear with this: Louis is a potential love interest for Clementine.

It does this with Violet, too. It's just different. Violet doesn't need to explicitly state that she's only into girls, the game goes to great lengths to show us this through the writing. C'mon, we all know what "Minnie and I... we were close," really means. Your spidey-senses were tingling, especially if you're queer, too.

If you go fishing with Violet and Brody, you've told the game you're more interested in Violet than Louis at this point, so you find the heart with her and Minerva's initials carved in it. That's the game making another thing clear: Violet likes girls, she's the other potential love interest for Clementine.

Y'know, in case all the "Louis or Violet" choices weren't enough of an indication.

The first card game is usually what I see pointed at when someone goes, "lmao Louis is such a Straight" for asking Clementine that, and I'm like... this? Are you sure?

Honestly, my theory is people really want Louis and Violet to fit into the straight himbo/lesbian friendship dynamic, which like... you can still do that if he's not straight. I'm just sayin'.

"But CJ, how else would we know he's not straight if he doesn't show attraction to boys?"

By looking at literally everything else about him. He doesn't need to openly flirt with other boys to be bi. Bisexuality is more than that, it's a personal queer experience. There are things in the subtext of his character, and TFS in general, that lead me to believe he is.

Heteronormative thinking could be playing a part: "cis/straight's the default until proven otherwise." Hence why some need more "proof" of him expressing interest in people who aren't female...tbh I think some people are just dumb and miss the point of headcanon in fandom culture. It's not about what's objectively true with heaps of evidence, it's about looking at canon and interpreting it through our personal lens... but whatever it's fine, ignore me, I'll just continue on then-

I believe the Ericson crew don't operate under that line of thinking.

I touched on this a little before, but TFS's narrative is steeped in queer themes; an oppressive older generation who uses force to try to shape the Ericson crew to be like them, and if they fight back, they're punished; found family and acceptance, love in a world that doesn't want you; the troubled youth of Ericson being abandoned because parents didn't want to deal with them, sending them away to be "fixed." There's no getting away from it.

I think Louis puts it best when you appeal to him in ep1: "This is how adults do things, not us."

They're a generation who only had each other, abandoned by the adults who were supposed to love them, supposed to make them better. They're a generation of genuine acceptance when it comes to each other. Clementine and AJ are able to integrate with them because they're the same way. When AJ sees the heart with Violet and Minerva's initials in it, he doesn't question how two girls could be together, he just says, "Oh. Love." and then he moves on. He grew up differently than you and I, they all did.

We also need to consider where Louis came from before Ericson.

Louis has an artistic hobby in music, something we haven't seen before in TFS as we're often too busy trying not to die to explore hobbies. The most we see of something similar is when Mariana listens to music on a cassette player.

TFS introduced characters who have interests they pursue outside of survival, and they're more artistic things. Louis plays piano and writes music. Tenn's an artist who reintroduces AJ to drawing. Aasim writes and openly journals about the days as a record. Omar takes great pride in his cooking, which is an art in of itself. Violet mentions not being into arts and crafts, but she still makes Clementine a pin when you take her route, and she wants to dance with Clementine if they're romantically involved. Minerva had a talent for music, and Sophie for art when they were there, too.

I don't think I need to tell you that many look down on the arts--I think we're well aware. We're also aware of the stereotypes of men in the arts, no? "A boy who likes art?? Son, why can't you be normal and like sports!?" That nonsense.

Louis grew up wealthy with parents who gave him everything he ever wanted, except for one thing. As he tells it, he wanted singing lessons so he could be a real musician, but his father denied him; "You get to be happy, or you get to be rich, can't be both."

Huh... can't be both, can't have both, can't like both... where have I heard that one before?

Alright, maybe interpreting the use of the word "both" here as a metaphor for bisexuality is a major stretch. I know, but listen, in my experience there's always this feeling of "pick one" when it comes to outsiders who don't understand. The fact that Louis' father tried to teach him a "dad lesson" in this specific way is... interesting, to say the least.

The implication is that Louis was a spoiled brat and his father tried to teach him that you don't always get what you want in life... but why draw the line at music, specifically? Music is something his father could've thrown money at. Louis could've had the privilege of the finest vocal coaches at such a young age. He could've become a glowing success and never ended up at Ericson.

Music isn't gendered nor is it inherently queer... but I often wonder if his father would've had the same approach if Louis came to him and said, "I want to be a professional baseball player," instead. After all, in many circles it's more sociably acceptable to have a son who plays baseball, or any sport, rather than a son who takes singing lessons, no? And the fact that his father presents it as a "choice" between the arts and conformity.... C'mon, it's representative of a "choice" people try to enforce on bisexual people: pick the "gay" option and face the consequences, or pick the "straight" option and adhere to easy heteronormativity. That's not how that works, by the way.

But I digress, it's probably not that deep, but still.

Louis' response to all of this was basically, "Fuck you, I'm gonna destroy your marriage. That'll teach YOU a lesson." Real chaotic bisexual behavior here... Okay, I joke, but he's always been one for the dramatics, I suppose.

What I'm getting at is the concept of a character, typically masculine, enjoying the arts only for their more conservative family to disapprove makes an appearance in a lot of stories containing queer themes. It's understandable to raise an eyebrow at Louis for having a backstory like that, even if it's "not the point."

Now, let's examine his relationship with Clementine.

I will die on the hill that clouis is bi4bi.

Louis is peak bi love interest energy.

When we think of a typical straight male love interest, what do we think of? Specifically in the romance genre? I don't know about you, but I read a lot of romance, and well... the leading men tend to have some things in common. Y'know, he's unbelievably handsome and broody. He's an asshole but it's kinda hot? I guess? Not really, but the leading lady's into it. He's what you'd find under the definition of "toxic masculinity" but it's fine, she's going to fix him! With her love! He's really not that bad, he's just sad about his tragic backstory! And also, he's really hot!

Every time I pick up a book and I get the sense this is where it's going, I take a moment to debate with myself whether I'm willing to power through this in hopes that the book does something actually interesting with it... it usually doesn't.

Louis doesn't exactly fit in this mold, which in my opinion, is a good thing. Instead, he's charismatic and friendly. He cares about people and isn't afraid to show it. He watches over AJ until Clementine wakes up, and gives him his food after AJ eats all of his. He's interested in music, but he's not a weak survivor. He struggles with his self-esteem and the guilt of his actions hurting those he cares about. He's hurt and traumatized over Marlon's death and it causes him to lash out, but he gives Clementine a genuine apology. He strives to be better for her, AJ, and everyone at Ericson.

He's sweet with Clementine even before they're romantically involved, and if she doesn't share his feelings, he accepts that. He doesn't feel entitled to her. He isn't the "Nice Guy" trope.

He respects her autonomy, and admires the strengths she has rather than feeling threatened by them. He doesn't get jealous or possessive. He's never physically aggressive with her, and he never makes any sexist comments about how she can't do this, or how she needs to do this, because she's female.

It's the fact that he'd like Clementine no matter what. Louis feels like someone who likes who he likes regardless of gender.

Louis is soft, something that can be construed as weak, even though that's far from the case. It's not just his personality, either; let's take a quick look at his physical appearance.

Louis has a softness to him; long hair, freckles all over his face, his lips are fuller, he's tall and thin but not exactly broad in the shoulders, especially when compared to the other men in TFS. His appearance isn't considered intimidating, and I wouldn't say that his traits lean heavy into the masculine.

We joke about him being so fashionable in the apocalypse, but his long jacket is more evocative of "fashion over function," a stereotype often thrown at feminine fashion... though I suppose you could argue that's where he keeps Chairles so it is functional.

There's the way he presents himself, and yes, even the way that he stands at points, I have no other explanation for other than, "......it's the vibe, there's bisexual energy there."

Look, I'm no body language expert, okay...

...but c'mon, what is this?

I know it's dumb, but there's something to it, that's why so many of us make the "Louis ain't straight, look at how he stands" jokes.

All of this contributes to the subtext of Louis being a bisexual character. It's not about how many genders he openly flirts with, it's about how he's written, both as a character and as the male love interest. It doesn't matter how intentional it was because it's there, I recognize it.

Again, I'll reiterate that this is how I interpret TFS, clouis, and Louis as a character. As a bisexual myself, I'm going to have bias toward this topic. At the end of the day, it's fiction and Louis is a character, y'know? Headcanon is all in good fun, and I'd like to hear y'all's thoughts on this subject.

I don't know what else I can say other than, "Dude, just look at him!"

[gent-ly]

Holy shit, holy shit, the first chapter is so so good!! Your writing is so vivid; visceral in the way you describe what Prapai is feeling and thinking, and I'm really looking forward to where this goes because in a way LITA left us a bit too quickly and there's a part of me that wanted a bit more lingering on the hurt!!

Payu's support from the get-go is <3. I loved seeing hints of how they have each other's back in the show and it was good to see Payu validating the need for revenge/still being the voice of reason to talk to Sky and sleep on it.

Umph love the evidence to Sky's handling it better - he's been through this before, so he kinda knows how to manage it, at least in the moments between flashbacks. Also that he's choosing to refuse to let Gun dictate his life this time. He's so... strong. And of course Prapai says that but you're showing it really well here.

Sky still being able to ask for what he wants (both emotionally and physically) felt like such relief to read and I love how much Prapai communicates in the moment and directly after. Like ofc he'd be the kind to run his mouth during sex, but its also so important for Sky to know exactly what he's thinking and feeling and just how much he's loved and I think you really captured that so well! And the aftercare in Prapai checking in and reassuring and the confidence that Sky expresses but also honestly talks about the intrusive thoughts. It was so good to read how 'knowing' the truth doesn't always stop your brain from telling you lies when you've believed them for so long. Thank you for allowing Sky to know and yet not necessarily be 'fixed' because that... feels really true to life.

Ohhh the last section with Prapai: "wears his anger to the gym" is such a good good line. So is "finds his anger where he left it, in the shadows of his bedroom wall" - I remember at the start of the fic hoping you were setting up a callback moment <3.

/sigh. I get Prapai's reasoning for not saying anything but... there's a part of me that wishes and hopes he will include Sky in this. But for storyline, even character reasons I can see why he wouldn't. Still, Sky's going to be caught up in the aftermath whether he likes it or not and it's not fair that he goes in blind.

The frequent mention of the bruising throughout really gets to me - Gun/his friends was so cruel with how much he kept hitting Sky. And makes me remember poor, brave Sky who fought and fought until he thought Prapai had something to do with him being in the situation (even for a moment). It's... very effective to help the reader understand Prapai's headspace right now.

The evening sun is gold and the light touches every corner of the room. There’s no space for shadows. No place for Sky’s fretful hands. No room for doubt of Prapai’s love.

This was so beautiful and beautifully written. I just wish (for their sake) that they could've lived in that a bit longer.

Thank you for sharing your writing. It truly is such a pleasure and privilege to read. Really looking forward to seeing where you take this and continuing to cheer you on!!

i just woke up to this and know my day will be a good one thanks to you! thank you so much for taking the time to write this and share your thoughts with me! it means a lot!

i am so glad you picked up on the callbacks and the little motifs throughout. every time i rewrite it’s too ensure the story is consistent, that these little details that matter to me aren’t overlooked. so glad my efforts aren’t wasted!

when i rewatched lita recently i was thinking throughout of the few times they reference some level of involvement with pakin and chai. for example how chai comes to phayu and rain’s aid because phayu is pakin’s best engineer. and i just thought, damn, that’s a lot of trouble they go to, to help out precious engineer’s kidnapped bf 🤔 and then his agreement with pai in the end that pai will race? like bro is already doing that? it’s not a big enough sacrifice for what they’re asking for, in my opinion. so i wanted to drag it out a little. i want to see how prapai and sky will act when things get serious in a way that’s kind of… bigger than them? idk. we’ll find out i guess haha. but yes i thought it was important phayu be involved because he seems to have the stronger connection to pakin anyway. annnnd i wanted more of their friendship!!!

it’s so important to me that sky’s strength carries through to this second incident. of course he’s going to be knocked back. of course his low self esteem and self worth issues aren’t going anywhere but boy was so strong after the first time… like he straightened himself out and worked damn hard at school and yes, a lot of it was probably avoidance of the issue but still. he did that, basically by himself. this time, though, he has the best support team in the world. which means he can move forward but he can take his time with it, too, because he’s safe enough to feel how much all this has affected him. do u get me? like he has the freedom to hurt now. in his own way, at his own pace, in the safety of a loving environment.

i am a sucker for good communication. i cant help myself!! but i think they’re a very honest couple anyway so it fits. but i suppose you’ll just have to wait and see what prapai chooses to do with his little secret. 🤫

thank u again for ur thoughts & support <3

[sir-yeehaw-paws]

Can you talk a little more about masculinity and femininity in ocelot? Sounds interesting

Hello Anon!

Sure, I can do that. I guess a good way to explain myself first (and hopefully a little better than I did in the takarazuka ask) would be how I personally perceive masculinity and femininity.

The definitions of the concepts, according to Websters dictionary, are defined as such:

Masculinity: The quality or nature of the male sex. Femininity: The quality or nature of the female sex.

As another quick note, I'll add that this isn't going to delve too hard into whether these qualities are 'good' or 'bad' in regards to Ocelot. Some of them are good qualities, but Ocelot often puts them to use in a sinister fashion, being. Well.

Ocelot. In this case 'masculine' qualities would be, say, 'aggressive, physically strong, abrasive, robust' where as 'feminine' qualities would be, 'soft, nurturing, gentle, reserved'.

Obviously, my immediate issue is that these definitions are rooted in biological sex characteristics, with the stickier territory of sex and gender correlating because biology dictates certain personality traits. I'm not going to over-complicate it by going into a deeper 'nature vs nurture' or sex VS gender argument. And, for the sake of ease I'll start by describing what one might consider how these qualities are implied/shown in Ocelot in particular.

Ocelot's personality (or what he tells people his personality is) has characteristics of the following:

Men are often considered to have more 'instinct rooted' natures. They're more often considered less feeling (something we know is very untrue but they're given less space to discuss their feelings properly). They are described as strong, daring. A lot of characteristics that get defined in the ways to which they are physically robust and skilled.

Or, in ways they can be useful based on those traits.

Women, by contrast, get considered more 'delicate' and nature based. What they can provide and offer people is given a critical eye (such as how many are described as nurturing, devoted) how they can provide, and their mental capabilities. Since the flip of the coin is that they are also considered more emotionally rooted, thus, they're described as 'manipulative and scheming' when written in a negative light.

(Also, a long time back, and never on Tumblr, I had the thought that Kaz's own story is written very 'female coded' to me. Being a scorned, jaded lover more known for his hysterical, temperamental personality and emotion being his driving force, robbed of his agency with torture and the like, and how revenge stories can often be common in female lead roles BUT that is a whole different thing so uh anyway carrying on.)

Ocelot's main, grounding root is that he is 100% endlessly devoted to Big Boss. It does not matter who suffers because of it, it does not matter how many people die, what matters is that the love of Ocelot's life is given his just due. And Ocelot remains by his side (physically and otherwise, even when BB himself is out of the picture) until his own death.

He's flamboyant. Full of a 'quirky' style of dress, makes a statement whenever he walks into a room. Does loud, bold hand gestures. Makes all kinds of crack statements, and generally draws the audiences attention in these ways. While he's more 'subdued' in MGSV, he still dresses a little 'strange' wears spurs around base, and keeps medium-length, free-flowing hair with long eyelashes and a more even-toned, level head.

Ocelot being a mediator is an extremely funny spot for him to be in, but like any of his performances, he nails it. Mum friend Ocelot, (if the mum friend is hypnotized to hell and of course, secretly antagonistic but again, Ocelot).

On the other hand, he's extremely obsessed with the 'ultra masculine' things; like guns, the American West, hand to hand combat (his CQC is some of the best in the series, I've seen it argued), men-or well, one man in particular. In any case, that's actually a different topic in it's own way, and a different essay.

I'd also note, the guns and such aside, he has a lot of his mother's personality traits, (from what we know of her anyway). The Boss was manipulative, cunning. Physically strong, robust. Driven by emotions, but physically domineering in a way that people knew damned well to take seriously.

Who else got Volgin to tuck tail?

Yet-despite this, her story is one of sacrifice. Her having Ocelot in the first place as well quietly key to her character, written on her chest in a deep scar that reminds the audience, this is a woman. Using the conventional aspects society deems relevant to women, and the ones we've all heard before.

Ocelot's story, ends on the note of reminding the world (the players) that he died for a man. That he loved and adored. His story gets slightly elevated from reminding you that 'this is a man' and more into the territory of 'this is a person with a story' which I find interesting, and a bit sad, on the Boss' part. Because while there's a distinctly 'feminine element' to that, he's not given the hammer home of 'this is a man's story!"

Because men get lots of stories. Men get all kinds of stories. That are not completely rooted in their masculinity (or their femininity, for that matter. Unless the story chooses to be about that). And I feel as if I've gone a touch off topic this way, but I know what I'm trying to say.

Ocelot, (and his mother, and so many) MGS characters are a good mix of masculine and feminine. One could make a post like this for all of the characters, but there is something to be said on the 'this is WOMAN' point getting hammered home a bit harder when it is the female characters.

But, that is another thing entirely. Once again. I feel like I'll never 100% stay fully on topic in an ask eh?

As an aside, is meowing masculine or feminine? We shall never know.

[imaginespazzi]

Anon from the how’s your wife ask. Some thought on the entire work after reading the latest ch. I just wanted to say I feel like what makes GH so good is how devastating your writing is. The way you make everyone so human is actually really frustrating as a reader because like why am I feeling bad for the antagonist??

So, I started this story on Paige’s side, because I mean you propose to the girl you’ve loved for years, and she says no(you’re essentially dumped). She loses her second family, best friend, and now has to pass up a really good team (and possibly a championship)to avoid her. That’s a lot on a person. And I don’t think Paige has forgiven her. HOT TAKE: I think Paige actually resents A (a teeny bit) because she no longer could talk to A’s parents and she feels like Stephie should be her daughter too. In a way, Azzi has robbed Paige of what she felt like was rightfully hers… a place next to Azzi as her partner. Which is why during the call she says she hates A.. and she does hate Azzi for taking one of the things she wanted the most. She’s definitely the friend that no one wants to listen to their rants because they’ve been about the same girl for 10 YEARS!

And then you have Azzi who said no but regrets it. Whether that be because she actually wanted to say yes or because the pressure of feeling as though she broke up the team, their families, and the relationship just to still be hung up on Paige(that’s just my personal theory😫) Azzi’s fear and anxiety to things that are uncertain are sooo human but it’s to her detriment. Now that she has a daughter, I think she’s hiding behind that even though she knows P will now and forever be a constant for Steph.

And honestly my favorite round character that I think everyone hates… OLIVIA! I know that we’re supposed to see her as a jealous, bitter other woman but I just can’t. She was sold a dream. She thought that Paige Buekers was in love with her, and she was going to get the WaG dream and lifestyle. I mean who doesn’t want the rich and famous person that everyone wants but wants you! Now she’s competing with someone who ISNT EVEN COMPETING with her. Honestly anyone would be pissed. Azzi sitting at home with an infant prob covered in piss and shi and Paige is dolled out throwing out a Hail Mary to see if her ex wants her back on her wedding day! ON HER WEDDING DAY. O has and was always going to be running a losing race with Azzi, the idea of Azzi, and the memory of Azzi. She kept chasing after Paige knowing this. Even though it’s so human to want someone that doesn’t want you, it’s like girl stand up- I feel it’s important to understand this as I read the story because while she prob was transactional and gave that bitter interview, it’s because she didn’t get the dream from Paige that she felt she was owed.

In a twisted way, Paige and Olivia are parallels. They both want someone who is hung up on someone or something else. They have a bitter, jealous, and resentful side that comes out when you touch the nerve that is so carefully holding the future that was envisioned for themself and promised by another. The rawness of their anger, of everyone in this story’s anger is so beautifully written that ,even when you don’t enjoy the character, you can step away and see their point of view so clearly. It’s eery honestly.

Ah this is such a well-written take and I love that my silly little passion project has been able to evoke such a thoughtful response. I try my best to make everyone perspectives understandable because in life, rarely is it as simple as one person being the villain. Often times, it really is circumstance that dictates it and Olivia is simply just a victim of her circumstances.

I agree with you; I think there's definitely some seeds of resentment in Paige. Losing Azzi meant losing a lot of herself and I think Paige thinks that getting Azzi back means getting all of that back. And while that's true in a sense, the one thing she can't get back is the time in between.

And Azzi's regret has been a constant in her life since she said no to the proposal and the fact that Paige has made her resentment clear at times, even if she's not showing it as much in the present, only strengthen that regret.

Olivia is a fascinating character to me. She's the embodiment of shades of grey. But you're completely right about. The reason Olivia is so transactional, why she expects things for Paige first is because she needs that reassurance before she can give something of herself as well. And she knows that Paige is only giving it to her first half-heartedly but she tricks herself into thinking that it's okay to take a step towards Paige if Paige is the one stepping towards her first, albeit reluctantly.

[dreamedfyre-a]

i'm pretty sure i've written something to that effect before but i'm writing more and also i can't find the post so

the greens didn't decide impulsively to take the throne when viserys died. that was the plan all along and i think they were all aware of it (to some extent; perhaps reluctant to see it, but aware at some level). of course, i'll never dictate how other muses felt or should feel about it (and takes like show based alicent never having any intention to do so are 100% valid!). but looking at the overall situation, it's blatantly obvious otto was playing the long game from the moment he started parading his daughter as a replacement for aemma, and that he meant to get aegon on the throne one way or another.

the first attempt was trying to get rhaenyra and aegon married, which would achieve his goal and prevent a war of succession. that failed, he clearly didn't give up. alicent's children were raised with that claim for the throne in mind. helaena was married to aegon to further his claim. when viserys died, aemond's first answer is to ask 'is aegon king?'. they all knew it'd come to that.

which is why i can't see (and don't write) helaena being oblivious to her role and what it entails, to how royalty is perceived and how it matters. if anything, i think that's one of the first things helaena had thrust upon her, still as a child; she's a princess and she has to behave like one, and she would have started to understand why it matters then. struggling with it doesn't mean she cannot understand or is unaware. she forces herself to endure and masks the discomfort, to her own detriment, because it's what she had to learn to do.

she takes her duties seriously. she would have always tried to do her best. this extends to her time as queen. i don't think she was an entirely passive queen, nor that she would have been content to simply let alicent take charge of everything (whether that causes conflict or they work together is up for discussion). helaena didn't want to be queen, but she is. and if she is, she'll be the best queen she can be.

from what we know of consorts in asoiaf, it's suggested there's a strong diplomatic element (associated with how they are perceived by court and winning over and keeping the support of relevant lords and houses, as well as dealing with foreign dignitaries), and honestly a strong public relations sort of thing in regards to dealing with the faith and the smallfolk which is where i think she did best, perhaps inadvertently more so than on purpose. when welcomed by the king, queens can also act as advisors (which i'll get to later).

we know the book suggests helaena was greatly loved as a queen (even when the people's opinion of her brothers wasn't as positive). cultivating a positive relationship with the faith and appearing pious (and letting people see that) is part of what would be expected of her, and part she would have no hard time complying to. helaena does follow the faith; her mom did raise her to go to church and pray, to be charitable to those they meet along the way. (and it's such a small thing, but wouldn't it make a difference for people to know their queen kneels in front of the mother above and prays to the same gods they do?)

and it's the same when it comes to charity; people seeing the crown doing something for them makes a difference. people seeing a queen take the time to go to them and help those in need made her loved. while hesitant to be too close to anyone, helaena would neither be unkind nor arrogant if respectfully approached. she's not sociable, but she's gentle and genuine. it's her duty to help these people, and she takes it seriously.

helaena wouldn't be good at all with court politics, though. she knows how to behave and what she should or shouldn't do, but charming people is not something she excels at and if people go off script she struggles with what to do. she doesn't want them near she doesn't want to befriend them and while she is polite and gentle, she doesn't do as well with this.

if organizing events and feasts falls under the responsibilities of queens, this is a task she could handle with help. because helaena doesn't really like big events and what makes them appealing for most people knfkjdnfjkn (this made me think of aegon's feast to celebrate aemond post storm's end though. i don't think she likes the idea of a public celebration at all, and yet she would still prepare it because like i said the other day ultimately she's holding her brothers' hands no matter how bloody they are)

last but not least, i assume aegon wanted her in his council (otherwise she wouldn't be there) and she wanted to be there (otherwise she'd have refused to be there), and that was the standard from the beginning of his rule, which is why she was present the morning they received rhaenyra's terms. like i said, helaena takes her duties seriously; she would do her best to offer informed advice. to keep aegon's impulsiveness and aggressiveness in check, too, as she does re: how to answer to rhaenyra.

i genuinely think aegon and helaena would've worked well together in that sense, finding a middle ground between too impulsive and angry and too passive and diplomatic. i also think she's one of the few people there who'd be genuinely on his side; not the crown, not their own ambitions, because ultimately helaena is in it for her family. it's them she cares about.

of course, this is short-lived. after jaehaerys' death, all she might yet have been seen doing on occasion would be going to the sept, and even that would stop well before rhaenyra takes the city because helaena can't be bothered to leave her room. before that, though, she did take part on her queenly duties. that's what made her loved, and that's what made the commonfolk react viciously to her death.

[spop-romanticizes-abuse]

so i've been thinking about horde prime and what a wasted potential he was. when we were first introduced to horde prime, we are led to believe that he is an intimidating and heartless dictator, the biggest threat adora has faced so far.

and yet, as the series progresses, we are just left with questions as to WHY this guy is so powerful and feared. all adora has to do is save catra and horde prime is already fuming and frothing at the mouth. literally all his clones could be taken out by just hitting a weak spot, as demonstrated by catra and glimmer. any of the etherians (i.e. the princesses) who were brainwashed were also easily reversed. catra basically died but not for more than 5 minutes, before adora brings her back to life. basically, there's nothing long-lasting about horde prime's actions and nothing intimidating about him.

i've already mentioned some of the other problems i have with horde prime's character, the main one being that.. he's just boring. it's so clear that horde prime was only created because catra and hordak were on their way to redemption, and the show needed a new threat. but horde prime is so lazily written, you barely register him as an actual villain.

in my opinion, there are three things you can add to a villain in order to flesh them out:

sympathetic qualities: the typical tragic backstory, misguided intentions, moments of humanization and compassion. it's an overdone trope but if utilized well and in moderation, it can be very compelling.

complex motives: even if you don't agree with their way of carrying out their plan, you do agree with their ideals or morals. you get where they're coming from and you can relate to their reason for doing what they're doing.

parallels with protagonist/hero: if your hero and villain have similarities or something that connects them, the stakes are automatically raised. there's the fear that the hero could end up like the villain, if they're not careful. even if we know that the hero is not gonna end up like the villain, there's still something satisfying about seeing two characters who are fundamentally the same person but on different sides with different experiences to back them up.

good ol' personality: if you want to create a pure evil villain who is just evil for the heck of it, that's fine. just make sure you give them something that makes them stand out, whether it's a flamboyant personality, witty quip or even a catchy musical number. this is the reason why most disney villains are so memorable despite having no complexity or redeeming qualities.

so, which one of these would work best for horde prime? any of them, honestly, but i would probably choose not to give him a tragic past, just because of how both catra and hordak already got those. i don't want to redeem all the villains of this show.

the other three are very applicable and can even be used all together. horde prime can have a complex motivation, parallels with adora (or heck, even catra) and have a compelling personality.

but honestly, just one of these is enough to flesh out a villain. for example, bill cipher from gravity falls has no tragic backstory, complex motive or parallels with the heroes. but what makes him so likeable and interesting to audience is his personality alone. he's humorous, he's snarky, he's chaotic and calmly admits to being crazy. his unique character design and insane power also makes him stand out from regular villains.

for another example, lord viren from the dragon prince is not very compelling, personality-wise. however, his goal of protecting and fighting for humans at any cost, and his parallels with callum make us want to see more of him and how his story ends.

in all these shows, the villains aren't just a decorative piece thrown into the story last-minute. whether they were introduced from the beginning or later on, they have a purpose. they pose a real threat and the main plotline is about defeating them. the romance is only secondary.

but in s5 of spop, the main conflict isn't “will adora stop horde prime from destroying the world?”, it's “will adora make out with her abusive sister?” or “can catra act like a responsible adult for once?” (hint: the answer is no.)

so either, you could explain why horde prime does what he does. all we know right now is his vague past with mara and the first ones, and his egotistic desire to “purify” everyone. while this is a good start, the show never elaborates on it. horde prime's character supposedly has themes of religious trauma but it's portrayed in an almost cartoonish way. we could have gotten more details about why he thinks his actions are justified. what he hopes to accomplish by purifying everyone.

or they could have given us a connection with horde prime and one of our protagonists. preferably adora. but no, the only character horde prime had a direct connection with was hordak. they could have expanded on that and shown more of their relationship. but instead of showing religious guilt and trauma through hordak, they replaced that with chipped catra. because of course, the only character whose trauma is acknowledged by the narrative is catra.

there were some clear-cut parallels between catra and horde prime (brainwashing people to turn them into weapons, abusing a family member, attempting to destroy the entire world) but they never even mentioned that. because that would mean reminding the audience that catra was just as bad as prime. it would have made for an interesting narrative, especially if catra acknowledged all of this and felt insanely guilty for doing all that she did, trying to do better so that she won't be like horde prime.

or, as a last resort, they could have given horde prime a personality. because in canon, his personality is just evil™ and egotistic. that's it. he's just a garden-variety villain and while his character design is interesting, there's nothing that stands out about him. (not to mention, giving him a hairstyle that resembles dreadlocks when he is supposed to be a representation of a white dictator)

i just feel like they could have made prime a really intimidating and complex villain but they completely missed the mark. horde prime is just a minor inconvenience in s5, the real threat is the “gay pining and angst” between catra and adora.

[bookishfeylin]

I was looking through your recent reblogs, and I wanted to ask specifically about the issue of framing. You’ve written extensively on how Rhys and Tamlin fail as foils (and I agree), but I’ve repeatedly seen the argument that because the author *meant* only Tamlin to be an abuser, Rhys canonically *can’t* be abusive. As well as the fact that Feyre is happy/forgave Rhys. Therefore: Tamlin’s red flags form a pattern, while Rhys’ “bad acts” cannot by definition be abusive, and are unrelated incidents of a good person making mistakes. Is there any credence to this? What do you think of the idea of there being only one way to read a text? Of having to imagine the author on your shoulder telling you how to appropriately feel about what is written, and that any alternative interpretation is wrong because that wasn’t what was “meant,” that the reader has to therefore be dumb and/or simply wants the story to be different than it is, and so interprets it that way? Is there a “correct” way to enjoy a story?

I spent a while on this ask because I think it’s a complex question with no easy answer, so I’m sorry for the wait 😅

An author can have whatever intentions they want when they write a piece of media, but once it's no longer confined to their, uh, imagination, and is actually out in the world, they can’t necessarily dictate how other people to engage with the text. The context of their society's culture and time period and the individual experiences of the audience are always going to impact how a work is interpreted, understood, and the impact it has on the culture at large. An author may not mean to incorporate certain stereotypes or write harmful tropes, for example, but if they make all the Black people villains to an all white cast of heroes and they kill off all the gay people while all the straight couples get to live happily ever after, their intentions are kind of irrelevant—they objectively wrote and perpetuated harmful ideas. And furthermore, media doesn’t stop being engaged with or enjoyed when the creator dies, and not all media engagement is meant to agree with the intended message. Sometimes we read and analyze books to argue that the author's worldview was wrong or to argue that their messaging is flawed. (One example that comes to mind is an article I recently read about Lord of the Flies and how the author was wrong because humanity is NOT inherently violent based on discoveries of a real life shipwreck of some teenage boys who, left alone on an island, actually cared for each other and survived together until being rescued, unlike the insanity of Lord of the Flies. I wish I could remember the name of the article I read that discussed this, but I suggest looking into it!)

So no, there is no one correct way to engage with media, and an author's intentions, while certainly meaningful, and definitely eye opening into their thought process, are not necessarily the sole truth.

Now as for ACOTAR specifically: if the sole metric for abuse is not the actual behavior itself, but rather whether the author thinks the character is abusive, the story fails as a discussion of abuse and red flags. If something is abusive only because the author has decided, in their subjective opinion, that it is abusive, and something is not abusive because the author has decided it is not, then no analysis of abuse or red flags can be made because the author is not trying to actually comment on domestic violence but rather is using domestic violence as a convenient plot device to demonize the characters they don’t like. I’ve mentioned before many a time that the same standards that are used to render Tamlin and/or Nesta abusive also would render Rhysand and Co abusive as well were these standards applied uniformly to every character. But the author and stans alike refuse to. And if they want to do that, then fine! But don’t declare this work as a feminist one discussing domestic violence and abuse, and don’t proclaim that all people who like certain characters and ships support abusive behavior if there is no clear standard for abusive behavior outlined in the books. And that’s the problem a lot of fans fall into.

[actualbird]

I gotta say that

First of all, chapter 12 was SUCH A ROLLERCOASTER????? It also really made me love Marius even more (if it were possible) because He Is So Well Written (also I kin him so I’m here excitedly picking apart all his dialogue and little habits and the motive behind them,,,) and people really overlook just how efficient and smart he is and aldhskdjskdjsksjsk !!!!!!!

But to my main point, I can’t stop thinking about that one line of dialogue that that guy said at the scene of the Luke Attacks Rosa While Hallucinating moment.

The one where he goes “I’ve seen a lot of drug addicts going through withdrawals and he seems to be in a similar state”

Now all of us have agreed that Luke isn’t a junkie and that that state is likely caused by the NXX drug in his system, but I felt like this line is so out of place. Maybe it’s just my wishful thinking that luke will eventually recover but this line,,,,,,,, I feel like Hoyo deliberately put it there (also considering how that sentence gets referenced a total of two more times after the initial reveal)

Even though that nameless thug isn’t a medical professional, he IS speaking from experience and hhhhhhhhh please Hoyo 🙏 let this early sign of withdrawal dictate that the nxx drug is leaving Luke’s system,,, for his and our sakes

// main story 12 spoilers

marius was IMMENSELY well done in this chapter, i agree. it's such a delight seeing him in main story whether it's a chapter focused on him or not because every time hes on screen he is SOOOOOO deliciously cunning, it's like hes constantly playing 5d chess, hes incredibly strategic, i love seeing it every time

now, onto luke......honestly, to me, there IS still a chance that hes still addicted tbh. it could be that he's addicted to the nxx drug or to some other substance, but i find the Luke Might Be An Addict possibility to be INCREDIBLY INTERESTING. like, as much as my heart hurts for luke to be going through that, the angst loving demon in my soul yearns for some pain and it'd be VERY COMPELLING because of how much luke is so focused on being good, being honorable, doing things the way a hero would do. so for him to "succumb" is at odds with a lot of his values. i'd love to see the story go in that direction to see how luke copes

so on one hand: i hope luke gets better. on the other hand: I HOPE HE GETS WORSE, SO MUCH WORSE BEFORE HE GETS BETTER, COME WITH ME LUKEY, LET'S SUFFER SUBSTANCE ABUSE ADDICTION TOGETHER!!!!!

[whovianwatchingstartrek]

A Whovian Watches Star Trek for the First Time: Part 110 - Under the Command of Evil Georgiou

Star Trek: Discovery - Season 1 Episode 15 - Will You Take My Hand?

Okay, We're now onto the Season 1 Finale of Discovery! I'm excited to see how we end this season out!

We open aboard Discovery with making quoting something about the nature of feart, and unfortunately I don't recognise it, so I'm just left with the Foreboding nature of the passage.

This Georgiou's command style is immediately noticeably Terran. I loved how tense the Bridge was during the opening sequence. Her absolute disdain for the Klingons, Saru, and later in the episode Ash Tyler, pushes all of the right buttons in my head, and I can't wait for her to get her comeuppance. She makes a few veiled references to how she eats Kelpians towards Saru, and it just made my skin crawl, and so did her calling Ash an "it" later on. Unfortunately however, there is not much the crew can do for now, as she's the only one who fully knows the plan.

After the intro Georgiou and Michael interrogate L'Rell about which landing site would be best for discovery. Of Course L'Rell doesn't talk, which launches Georgiou into a much more brutal method of getting the information out of her. That doesn't work either, and Michael calls that to a stop. I'm really glad that Michael is starting to realise that maybe this isn't the way to go. Michael then takes Georgiou to Ash, and since he has Voq's memories, he willingly gives over the information they want. We also get a bit of worldbuilding about Klingon history, just a bit about Kahless and how he defeated someone called Molor, who the Klingons seemed to have worshipped in a similar way to how they worship Kahless now. I really want to know more this, and I'm trying to piece together their culture from the little scraps I'm being given.

This episode from the get go is clearly about the clear difference between Imperial tactics and Federation Tactics, and whether or not the ends justify the means when it comes to Georgiou's brutality.

This episode is putting in a lot of work to undo the mistakes of the last few episodes surrounding Georgiou, and I am 100% here for it. The last couple episodes tried to make her too sympathetic, when she is a fascist dictator, but here she is written and portrayed in such a creepy slimey way, and it's definetly what they should have been doing from the get go. I've already mentioned her racism, but also in the way she interacts with the human crew. Her various threats towards Michael, and just general attitude towards Sylvia Tilly gives me shivers, and in this episode alone I think she's earned a spot among my favourite villains so far.

Discovery Makes it's jump into the caves of Kronos, and the ground crew, made up of Michael, Ash Sylvia and Georgiou exit into an Orion market to try and get the location of this shrine.

On a side note, the more even split among male and female Orion slaves makes the whole idea feel a lot less behind-the-scenes slimy than the Orions did in Enterprise, thankfully. Here it feels slimy in a way where it feels like it's supposed to feel slimy, and not just... whatever Enterprise was doing in it's Orion focus episode. Also I'm not going to pretend like the eye-candy isn't appreciated in my bisexual brain, it feels a lot less uncomfortable when it doesn't feel like exploitation.

Amongst the chaos of the market, we get a few good downtime scenes, particularly of Sylvia being an absolute fish out of water, and a really well written heart to heart between Ash and Michael, where we finally get the full details of what happened to Michael's Bio-parents. Her survivor's guilt over this trauma is an interesting angle, and the detail of her memory over her trauma is something I really want to see explored in the future, and it really adds a interesting layer with her relationship with Ash.

Tilly finds out that the Drone she's guarding isn't a drone, but a planet cracking bomb designed to make the planet uninhabitable, and unfortunately Georgiou has moved too fast for Discovery to do anything.

Thankfully, Discovery manages to talk Starfleet out of the plan, and fromt here it's just a matter of sending in Michael to convince Georgiou to stop, which turned out easier than expected. Discovery hands the Detonator over to L'Rell, and convinces her to step up as the Klingons leader, and end the war. Ash choses to go with him, meaning we'll need a new chief of Security again. His goodbye to Michael . Georgiou is then let free, and I'm hoping we'll see her again sooner rather than later, because she still has a lot fascisty stuff to answer for.

Michael's speech at the end as she obtains her official pardon, and the crew get their official commendations, was also a fantastic way to cap off the season. We're also given an absolute shocker of a cliffhanger, as Discovery picks up a distress call from the Enterprise, so I can't wait to see what that's about!

I really liked this finale. I was shaky going into it with how the previous episodes were treating Georgiou, but this more than made up for it. It really capped of the whole methods vs results theme the season was going for, and it was just generally fun. I enjoyed myself here.

I have a couple Short Treks which I'll cover in one post tomorrow, and then immediately onto Season 2!

[inourselveswetrust]

I have 2 things!! (One question, one prompt)

How would ROs react if they went to visit MC and MC opens the door, pretty beat up? (slight black eye, etc.)

Heres a lil piece I wrote from MCs pov with a special appearance of August after MC technically kicked them out :)

The longer I stay in my car with my hands wrapped around the steering wheel, the more I want to rest my head on the cold window and shun my own thoughts. I know this will make me feel better, but I've never been one to randomly show up, even though I'm an expert at Irish goodbyes.

I remove the key and open the door, the cold air and spitty rain hitting my face and dripping like tears down my skin. I make my way to their apartment, the path through the halls ingrained in my memory.

As I approach their door, I start to regret what I'm doing, the squeaking of my boots echoing in my ears until I stop walking. I half knock, half bang on the door, looking at the smooth surface in front of me. The door opens.

"If you're here to argue, I'm slamming the door in your face."

I blankly look at their face, stepping forward and engulfing them in a stiff hug. They take what feels like a millennia to reciprocate, but once they do, I bury my face into their shoulder, quieting my response to a whisper.

"I hate that I shut you out. Just know I'm not angry, please."

The seconds drawing out as they process what I said, I just pray they aren't too upset. I know that they're probably not too happy about me shoving them from the threshold a week ago.

"Then what are you?"

"I'm sorry. For everything and anything I've ever done to make you hate me."

Their grip tightening around my shoulders is all I need. I don't regret this, even though I thought I would.

"I don't think I could ever hate you."

This probably sucks, I haven't written in a while, but I felt like sharing it anyway. I hope you have a good day/night!! :)

Thank you so much for sharing this piece! I loved reading it, it's so well written! It doesn't suck whatsoever!! 💙

I *love* the line "I'm sorry. For everything and anything I've ever done to make you hate me." That line hits hard in the feels.

As for the reactions...

August would demand you tell them what happened. They won't leave you alone until you tell them something believable. They'll firmly urge you to stop getting hurt and to take better care of yourself. If someone hurt you, August will find out who, and they'll inflict significantly more pain and injury on them. They may even spend some time following you, ensuring you're staying safe.

Blair would insist on taking you to the hospital to be checked. If you refuse, they'll force you to allow them to look at your wounds. They'll try to get details about what happened by gently asking questions and encouraging you to speak to them. If they feel something serious is going on, they may place more patrols in your neighbourhood and areas you frequent.

Wren will stare at you with wide, shocked eyes. They're speechless, completely unsure of what to say. They'll try to lighten the mood by cracking a joke, like "Rough night?" They'll try to determine whether you're in danger by asking subtle questions, but they won't demand anything from you. It's your life, and Wren won't try to dictate how you live it.

Neve will also silently gape at your wounds, they'll casually ask whether you want to discuss what happened and respect whatever your choice is. If you want to talk, they'll attentively listen. If you don't, they'll begin discussing why they're visiting. They believe you know how to take care of yourself, they don't think you need them to mend or protect you.