#people don’t sacrifice themselves over and over again just to keep someone alive like that cause their good buddies

[scary-grace]

Enough to Go By (Chapter 16) - a Shigaraki x f!Reader fic

Your best friend vanished on the same night his family was murdered, and even though the world forgot about him, you never did. When a chance encounter brings you back into contact with Shimura Tenko, you'll do anything to make sure you don't lose him again. Keep his secrets? Sure. Aid the League of Villains? Of course. Sacrifice everything? You would - but as the battle between the League of Villains and hero society unfolds, it becomes clear that everything is far more than you or anyone else imagined it would be. (cross-posted to Ao3)

Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15

Chapter 16

“We can’t stop here.”

“Why not? It’s out of the way. There are abandoned buildings. It’s perfect.” Dabi gestures down at the small village between the hills. “I don’t get what your problem is.”

Spinner crosses his arms over his chest. “Just trust me. It’s not a good place.”

“Why not?” Toga asks – whines, almost. “I’m tired. It’s dark. Can’t we just find somewhere and –”

“We’ll protect you if there are ghosts!” Twice chimes in. “Or you can sleep in a tree.”

Spinner’s shoulders stiffen. “Hey,” you warn. You turn your attention to Spinner. “If you know something we don’t that makes it not safe for everybody –”

“It’s safe for you all,” Spinner says. “Not for me. This is a sundown town. The CRC has a branch here.”

Your heart sinks. “The who?” Tomura says blankly. Everybody else looks just as confused.

“The Creature Rejection Clan,” you say, before anyone can prompt Spinner to explain. He shouldn’t have to explain. “They’re a hate group. Against people whose quirks visibly alter their bodies.”

“Mutants,” Spinner says shortly. “If they catch you with me we’ll all be in trouble. It’s safer to find somewhere else.”

“No,” Tomura says. You look askance at him, and you’re not the only one. “Fuck them. They don’t own this town. Why should you have to leave? Let’s just kill them and then we can all sleep.”

“Um –” You feel like you should say something about this turn of events. Like that murdering however many people are in this town’s CRC branch is a bad idea if you’re trying to keep a low profile. “Shouldn’t somebody scout and find out what we’re looking at as far as numbers go? I can do that.”

“Yes,” Compress agrees. “We should plan –”

“We don’t need a plan.” Tomura cuts him off. “We’ll tell them we’re there to steal their shit. When they attack us, we’ll kill them, and then we’ll steal their shit. Easy.”

“Like an item drop,” Spinner says, and cracks a weak, angry grin. “Fine with me. Let’s go.”

The CRC branch headquarters isn’t hard to spot. The League strategizes quietly on the walk there, trying to decide who will attack what, and you walk in the middle, unsure of what to do. They’ll tell you what to do, right? Somebody will. It’s not like you can fight. Sure enough, Tomura drops back from a conversation with Twice and falls into step beside you. “I want you to stay out front.”

“Still keeping your precious Saintess’s hands clean?” Dabi sneers. “She’s on the run. It’s too late.”

“We need a lookout,” Tomura says. “If it looks like backup’s coming, we need to know. And if anybody gets out –”

“Not likely!” Toga trills.

“Someone needs to stop them,” Tomura continues. “Can you do that?”

“Yes.” You answer before you’ve really thought about it, but you won’t be any use in the main fight, and if they’re doing this, you need to help. Besides, how hard could it be?

The answer to the question “how hard could it be” turns out to be “pretty hard”. The League is outnumbered, unable to use Dabi’s wide-range quirk without potentially burning themselves alive, and Toga and Spinner are the only ones who actually use weapons in hand-to-hand combat. The front door locks from the inside, and while you know Compress locked it on the League’s way in, it must not be very hard to unlock, because there are multiple people trying to open it and escape. You throw your weight back against it to keep it shut, but you’re not going to be able to forever. “Um –”

“Hey, where are you guys going?” Toga’s voice is syrupy sweet and all the more terrifying for it. You hear an agonized shriek. “Come back in! We were just starting to have fun!”

The pressure on the door lessens significantly, but a moment later, there’s a crash, followed by someone in a creepy mask diving through a window and sprawling out on the ground in front of you. This is your job to deal with, but you don’t have a weapon. A quick check of your surroundings reveals an umbrella stand by the door. You knock it over, spilling the umbrellas, then pick up the stand. The CRC member is on their hands and knees, struggling to rise, and you deliver a sharp strike to their kidneys with the base of the stand.

You knew what you were aiming at. You know it hurts. The CRC member shrieks, and your stomach turns. “Stay down.”

Toga vaults through the window and lands on the ground, graceful like a cat. “Thanks for grabbing him,” she says. She stabs one of her syringes into the man’s leg and his body jerks as the device on her back begins to suction blood at a rate that collapses his veins. “We’re almost done in there. It’s too bad you couldn’t see Tomura-kun fight. You’d like it when he gets angry.”

You don’t know that you would. You don’t feel very good about what you just did. You’re not sorry that you hit the guy who tried to escape, and you’re not sorry that the members of a hate group are getting what’s coming to them, but – you don’t really know why you feel weird. You just know it’s the kind of thing you should keep to yourself.

The front door opens just as Toga’s finished draining blood from the man you hit. Dabi sticks his head out. “Grab that guy and get in here. We’re searching the place.”

Toga grabs the dead man’s feet, leaving you to grab beneath his shoulders, and the two of you drag him up the front steps and into the house. You’re used to handling the injured. You’re not used to dead bodies. You’re more than a little relieved to set him down, and you don’t feel entirely better until Tomura’s touched him and turned the corpse to dust. “We’re searching in groups, in case anybody hid,” he informs you and Toga. “Toga, you’re with Compress. And you’re with me and Spinner.”

You nod and follow them deeper into the house – Tomura in front of you, Spinner behind. “Did either of you get hurt?” you ask. There’s an awkward silence. “I need to know.”

“I got clipped. It’s not that bad,” Spinner says. You glance back and see him grimacing, and you switch spots with him in line without another word. “It’s not that bad. Seriously.”

“I’ll look at it once we’re done,” you decide. You address Tomura next. “What about you?”

“They couldn’t touch me.” Tomura disintegrates the first door the three of you come to and peers inside. “Empty. Let’s search.”

There’s not much in the room. Some antiques, but those are easier to trace than regular stolen goods and would be harder to sell. There’s a bookshelf, and a case full of ancient bladed weapons, which Spinner promptly breaks and begins to sort through. “These are old but good,” he says. “They did a better job with steel back in the day. Here.”

He’s holding out a knife to you. “You should have a real weapon. I don’t know how you stopped the guy who got out –”

“Umbrella stand.”

Spinner looks honestly taken aback. “A knife’s faster,” he says. “Take it.”

“Thanks,” you say. You’ll have to think of somewhere to put it later. It won’t be much use in your backpack.

Out of everybody who’s searching the house, you and Toga come up with the items with the highest resale value – Toga has a good eye for clothing, and having recently hidden your own jewelry from Compress, you have a good idea of where to look for concealed objects. Rather than helping with the search, Dabi’s gone looking for food, but in spite of the fact that he’s found whatever the CRC was planning to eat at the conclusion of their meeting, he’s still in a mood. “Why are we doing this? Wasn’t the point of the supply caches so we wouldn’t have to?”

“This wasn’t just for food and a place to sleep. It was about taking out the trash, same as dealing with Overhaul was.” Tomura starts picking through the food. You sit Spinner down to check out his injury. “There’s no place for them in the new world.”

Dabi makes a derisive noise, and nobody else is paying attention – but you’re right up close with Spinner, and you see his eyes widen. “The new world?” he asks quietly. “I’ve never heard him say that before. Do you know what he’s talking about?”

You nod. “You should ask him.”

“No, you should tell me so I can decide if I want to know. I – ow.”

“Sorry,” you say. “Do you know what this is from?”

“It was a pitchfork. Classic, right?” Spinner scowls, grimaces, while you explore the wounds. They’re deep, but not deep enough to do real muscle or organ damage. Infection will be the biggest risk – like it usually is. “How’d you know about the CRC? Most people who have quirks like mine – don’t.”

“Most big cities have CRC offshoots. Yokohama’s no different.” You clean out the wounds one at a time, doing your best to be gentle. “They have neighborhoods they hang out in, and the clinic I worked in sat near the border of one. People they attack come to the clinic for treatment. Or hide in there to get away. The CRC are, um –”

“Top-flight assholes.”

“Yeah.” You pick up some bandages and a roll of medical tape. “I shouldn’t have talked over you earlier. I just didn’t want you to have to explain.”

“It’s okay. I’m glad somebody else knew what I was talking about.” Spinner gives you a curious look. “How are you doing with all this?”

“This?”

“Being on the run.”

“Oh,” you say. “It’s fine.”

It’s been three weeks since you took a leave of absence from work and ran for the hills, and since then, life’s been broken up into long periods of travel and short periods of stillness. Kurogiri was captured by the heroes sometime after the temporary alliance with Overhaul was made, which means that overland travel at night is the only way the seven of you can get anywhere without getting in trouble. You aren’t doing hardly any fighting, and your medical skills are only needed when somebody needs patching up, but you’re keeping busy in spite of that. You’re still the only person the police aren’t looking for.

Scouting, supply runs, running interference if the daytime hiding place is at risk of being found – all of it falls to you. You’re supposed to be a medic. On a day-to-day basis, you’re logistical support. It’s exhausting, but not particularly dangerous. It feels more like a hard day’s work than anything else, and at the end of it, you’re with Tomura, which is the important thing. You’re there to remind him that a new world can be built after the old one’s been destroyed, to convince him that the new world is something he wants to be a part of. That’s your job now, more than anything else.

Tomura comes over to check on you and Spinner. “How bad is it?”

“Painful, but they aren’t deep,” you report. “I’ll monitor them, but the infection risk is low so long as we all stay clean.”

“That’s the hard part,” Spinner mumbles. “It’s too cold to take baths outside.”

“Saintess said no more baths outside anyway,” Twice calls from the other side of the room. “Since some people can’t swim.”

“You can say Tomura-kun,” Toga says. “It’s okay.”

The realization that Tomura can’t swim was an unpleasant one for everybody, since it necessitated yanking him out of an icy pond while avoiding contact with his quirk. Twice and his clones came in handy, and nothing bad happened other than embarrassment on Tomura’s part, but it’s still not an experience you want anybody to repeat. “We’ll find ways. Worst comes to worst, I’ll rent us a motel room.”

“One motel room for all of us? You’d be doing the heroes’ work for them,” Dabi sneers. “If I have to sleep in a confined space with all of you, you’ll be dead by dawn.”

“Fine. The roof of the hypothetical motel room is all yours.”

Tomura looks irritated. “He’s this close to being more trouble than he’s worth,” he says in a low voice. “We could cut him loose without the risk he’d turn us in. He hates heroes as much as I do.”

“Yeah, but he’s our only ranged attack,” Spinner says practically. “I say stick it out.”

Tomura glances at you. You hate it when he does that on questions about strategy. “Keep him,” you agree. “He’s all talk.”

Tomura nods, still dissatisfied. Spinner looks a little nervous about it, but you aren’t – it’ll dissipate, like most of Tomura’s bad moods do sooner or later. He’s moody, but not volatile. “Do you want food?” he asks abruptly. You nod. After a second, so does Spinner, and Tomura gets up and walks away.

“Is he really getting food for us?” Spinner asks. You nod again. “And you’re sure about the new world thing. It’s not going to piss him off if I ask?”

You shake your head. Tomura mentioned Spinner specifically as someone you should talk about it with, but you think the idea itself should come from Tomura. The mission all of you are on is Tomura’s dream, really – you’re just trying to make sure it doesn’t kill him.

Tomura comes back with some of the food that Dabi scavenged, passes it out, and sits down next to you to eat. Spinner waits until Tomura’s mouth is full before he asks. “So, uh – you mentioned a new world. What’s that about?”

“Ask her.”

“No.” You glare at Tomura. “I’m your sidekick. It’s your idea. Tell him like you told me.”

“I’m not telling him like that,” Tomura says, and you elbow him, exasperated. He’s smirking slightly behind the hand as he addresses Spinner. “The old world has to be destroyed. Once it’s gone there’s a blank slate. And you –”

You elbow him again. “We get to decide what it should be like,” Tomura corrects himself. “Mainly her. And the two of you should talk about it, because you have ideas, too. Right?”

“Uh –”

“Anti-discrimination laws,” you suggest. Tomura snorts. “Come on. Anarchy isn’t sustainable long-term. A new world won’t automatically be better than the old one. If we don’t want it to be worse, we have to make sure it isn’t.”

“If you say so.” Tomura wolfs down his last few bites of food, then lies down, stretching out with his head in your lap. “I’m done planning for today.”

You can tell Spinner doesn’t like seeing Tomura call it quits when there are things to do. You make eye contact with him and try to bridge the gap. “You wouldn’t have checked out from the world if you thought it was a good place to be. Tell me what’s wrong with it.”

You and Spinner talk a bit while Tomura dozes, but things are winding down, and eventually the League barricades the front door, shuts the windows, and retreats into two of the back rooms to sleep. Tomura stirs when everyone else leaves, but when you try to get up, he won’t let you. “We can’t sleep out here,” you remind him.

Tenko kisses you. “Who said anything about sleeping?”

“Tenko –”

He cuts you off with another kiss, one hand sliding inside your jacket, the other dipping into the pocket where you keep his gloves. Tenko’s hair is getting long. You weave your fingers through it as he puts on the gloves, trying to ground yourself, to find a second of calm. You know there won’t be any once Tenko gets his gloves on.

In retrospect, having sex with Tenko for the first time the night before you went on the run might not have been the best idea, because Tenko’s been taking advantage of every second where the others are looking away ever since. In some ways it’s hot. You’ve never had a boyfriend who’s this handsy with you, this addicted to you, and the fact that Tenko barely cares about being caught in the middle of something makes it even better. But as hot as it is, you’re not sure about doing whatever Tenko’s got in mind in a place where at least two dozen people just died.

You don’t even know what he’s got in mind. “Tenko,” you mumble as his lips press against your neck. He bites down slightly and you shiver. “What are you doing?”

“Give me a second.” He’s leaving marks. One at the side of your mouth, one down against your shoulder, and you feel almost uncomfortably hot at the idea that it’ll all be visible without your veil. “Don’t rush me.”

You’re not going to rush him, but your discomfort is building, and if you don’t do something soon, it’ll be too late. You plant your hand on Tenko’s chest and push him back, crawling over him to press your lips against his. You know Tenko likes it when you show you want him, and it’s not hard for you to do. It’s not the idea of hooking up right now that bothers you – more the venue, and you find yourself caring less and less about it with every second that passes. Something is wrong with you.

Knowing that doesn’t stop you from straddling Tenko’s lap, grinding against him. There are multiple layers of clothing between you, but you know he’s getting hard, and you can pretend that the heat between your legs is the result of his touch rather than simple friction. Tenko’s kisses are eager and messy. His hands slide beneath your shirt, up from your waist to your breasts – but your bra is in the way. He taps it impatiently and speaks without pulling away. “I hate this thing.”

“I taught you how to unhook it.”

“Still.” In fairness to Tenko, you’re wearing a front-fastening bra. “I’m banning these in the new world.”

“You don’t get to ban stuff in the new world unless you’re planning to be in it,” you say, and your heart leaps when he doesn’t argue. Then you think about it. “Hate groups, heroes, and bras. That’s really what you want to get rid of?”

“I’ll think of other stuff,” Tenko says, unconcerned. He unfastens your bra, then runs his gloved fingers along the underside of your breasts. One of your nipples is captured between his thumb and forefinger, and he tugs and pinches lightly at it, making you squirm. “This is a good start.”

You hate it when he does this. You hate how much you like it. The friction between your legs provides the only relief, so you grind further into Tenko’s lap, looking for more. “Stop,” Tenko says, an edge to his voice. “Don’t do that if we can’t –”

“Who said we can’t?” You made one last addition to your med kit before you left, hidden in an inside pocket. You slide your backpack off your shoulders, reach inside, and produce one of several condoms. Tenko’s eyes widen. “What do you think?”

He slides his hands out from under your shirt to pull at your leggings and underwear. You decide that counts as a yes. Getting out of your clothes is a pain – your boots have to come off, followed by your leggings, followed by your underwear. Your boring underwear, according to Toga when she helped you pack. A thought crosses your mind, and like your thoughts usually do when you and Tenko are together, it comes out of your mouth. “Do you think my underwear is boring?”

“I think it’s in the way.”

You weren’t sure there was a right answer, but that counts. You kiss Tenko and work on unbuttoning his pants. It’s much less of a production for him, and once his cock is free, you can’t resist taking him in hand for a few strokes. Tenko’s body tenses in response, and you watch as his red eyes dilate. He picks up the condom on his own this time, putting it on with sharp, frantic movements, and as soon as it’s in place, you shift forward, lining up and sinking down onto his cock.

All the air leaves your lungs, and Tenko’s breath hisses out from between his teeth as you settle fully into his lap. “You didn’t give me a second,” he mumbles, his voice strained. A questioning sound is all you can manage in response. “I was going to eat you out.”

Your stomach ties itself in a knot instantly. You shift your weight, drawing your attention to the stretch and pressure of Tenko’s cock inside you instead of on what he just said – or maybe you’re trying to get him to stop talking. You’re not sure which. Either, way, it doesn’t work. “We haven’t done that yet,” he continues. Riding him isn’t shutting him up. You try kissing instead, but leaning forward to do it leads to an unsustainable change in pace, one that leaves you gasping. “I like how you taste.”

Tenko’s hands are on your hips, holding on with an iron grip. You were trying to set a faster pace, but his hold on you forces you to slow down, prolonging the slide of his cock against the most sensitive spots inside you and making you shudder. You wish you’d taken off more of your clothes. You feel hot and shaky all over and somehow even more out of control than you did when you were underneath him the first time. Tenko’s eyes are wide, pupils dilated so far that his irises are noting more than a thin red rim. His hips lift slowly beneath you as his hand leaves your hip to wrap around the back of your neck, pulling you down for a kiss.

Tenko’s pace is slow and intense, almost agonizing. Your legs are trembling so badly that you couldn’t maintain a rhythm of your own if you wanted to. Tenko holds on even as his control deteroiorates, while he twitches beneath you and moans into the kiss. When you draw back to breathe, you find his eyes squeezed shut. A tear leaks from beneath one of his eyelids, and you stare for a moment in shock before leaning in to kiss it away.

From there you kiss the scar over his right eye, the one you’ve never asked about, just like you’ve never asked about the one on his mouth – the location of your next kiss, once you’ve decided against kissing the birthmark on the other side. Tenko sucks down a breath, mumbles your name. Then: “I love you,” he says. Your stomach twists again, this time with anxiety. It doesn’t make a difference to Tenko – he moans and thrusts sharply upwards. Your body shifts independent of your mind, making sure his cock hits the right spot. “Fuck. I can’t – I love you –”

Whatever unspoken rule there is against saying I love you during sex, Tenko’s clearly never heard of it, and seeing and feeling him fall apart between your legs sends you over the edge in a few seconds more. For a moment, your mind goes totally blank, and in the absence of thought or restraint, the worlds almost slip out of your mouth, trailing after his name. “Tenko. Tenko –”

I love you. The weight of it keeps you silent. But only just.

Tenko doesn’t comment on the fact that you haven’t said it back. He never does, which is a relief. You’ve shown that you love him, and you’ll show it again, so it doesn’t need to be said. What does have to be said is the same thing you said last time. “We can’t sleep like this.”

“I know.” The sulky note in his voice almost makes you laugh.

By the time the two of you retreat to the back rooms, some of your anxiety’s worn off, and like always, you feel better once Tenko’s asleep next to you. You have him. All For One can’t take him away from you. He belongs to you, and you’ll keep him with you, through the end of the world and into the new one. The thought comforts you, but it’s not comforting enough to fall asleep on. You’re awake most of the night, like you have been for months.

The League of Villains is awake and in motion before dawn, heading towards Kurogiri’s last pre-capture coordinates. You’re not sure what’s waiting there. Tomura isn’t sure, either – just that it’s something his master left for him, some power that’s supposed to help him reach his goal. Dabi’s theory is that it’s some kind of super-Nomu, while Spinner thinks it’s a weapon. “What kind of weapon?” Twice asks. “Like a sword?”

“No, like a really big gun.”

The idea of Tomura with a really big gun is inexplicably entertaining to you. You struggle to muffle your laughter. “My quirk is better than a gun,” Tomura says. “If it’s a gun, Spinner, it’s yours.”

“Shouldn’t it be mine?” you ask. Tomura looks askance at you. “I don’t have a quirk or a real weapon. And I’m an okay shot.”

“In Call of Duty,” Tomura says. Spinner wheezes. “It’s a game.”

“We should get you a gun,” Toga decides. “Those creepy yakuza guys had one, and they had quirks. You should definitely have one, because you don’t.”

“A gun or a quirk?”

“Both,” Dabi says. He stops walking, and you walk directly into him. “Did you feel that?”

“Feel what?” Twice asks, and makes a fart joke that has Toga and Spinner groaning. “I gotta tell you, Dabi, if you can feel them –”

“There it is again,” Dabi says. He twists around to look at you. This time, you picked up on it, and so did Tomura. “What is that?”

“If I knew I’d say it,” Tomura snaps. “Sensei didn’t tell me.”

“You should have asked. If you had asked, then we wouldn’t be –” Dabi breaks off as the vibration strikes a third time, hard enough to make all of you stagger. A plume of dust rises from between the hills ahead of you. “What the hell is that?”

Not a hill. It’s not a hill. What you thought was a hill is the curved back of some giant thing, and now it’s straightening up, getting to its feet. It rears up, taller than you and everybody else by orders of magnitude, and you see that it’s human-shaped. Its features are craggy, like it’s been carved inexpertly from rough stone. Looking at it, it’s hard not to imagine that this is what Kurogiri was looking for, and it’s impossible for you to imagine that he was unable to find it – or that the heroes didn’t find it, too. All For One didn’t leave Tomura a weapon. He left him a mountain that walks.

The mountain-that-walks steps towards the group of you, rattling your bones on every step. “Master’s heir,” it says, in a voice that sounds like rocks shattering. “Where is he?”

Tomura steps forward. “Here.”

For a few moments they’re simply looking at each other, Tomura looking up and the mountain staring down. Then the mountain’s face distorts, an anguished howl issuing from a mouth filled with jagged teeth. “No! He’s too weak!”

“What?” Tomura snarls. The giant is clawing up dirt and stone from the ground, looking for something. For a weapon. Your blood turns to ice, but Tomura steps forward. “If you think you can just –”

“Die!”

The giant hurls a massive chunk of stone at Tomura, and you throw yourself forward, too, hitting Tomura in the back and knocking you both to the ground. You land hard, biting the inside of your cheek as the rock crashes down in the same spot as Tomura was standing a split second ago. The giant wails again, tears running down its face. “Weak,” it howls. “Too weak. Master, how could you do this to me?”

You’ve got seconds before it throws something else. It’s already looking around for another weapon. You drag Tomura to his feet and pull him away, ducking around the boulder and back to the League. “We need to get out of here.”

“Right now!” Spinner looks just as scared as you feel, which makes two of you who are reacting normally. “If we split up and run –”

“Outrun that thing? No way.” Dabi’s face splits into an eerie grin. “We’ll fight, right, Shigaraki? Or is that thing right about you?”

Tomura yanks his arm free of your grip and takes off toward the giant, throwing an order over his shoulder. “Get her out of here, Spinner!”

It makes sense. Spinner’s quirk doesn’t equip him well for a fight like this, just like your lack of a quirk doesn’t equip you at all. Spinner doesn’t look insulted at being stuck on girlfriend protection duty, and you’re not opposed to getting out of here – except you’ve got a job to do. “I’m the medic. I can’t leave!”

“If they get hit, there will be nothing to fix,” Compress says shortly. Your stomach turns at the thought of Tomura being struck by a flying boulder or getting crushed in the giant’s fist until he’s nothing more than a bloody smear in the dirt. “And he won’t be effective if he’s worried about your safety. Get clear.”

A wave of blue fire fills your vision, then dissipates. Toga’s voice is bordering on a shriek. “That didn’t work, Dabi!”

If Dabi’s flames aren’t having any effect, this opponent’s too dangerous for the League. Tomura’s the only one who could take the giant down, but he’d have to get close. There’s a horrible crash from somewhere ahead of you, and Spinner grabs your arm. “Let’s go!”

You balk again, agonized, but then you hear a voice – one that’s not the giant’s, not Tomura’s, not Dabi’s. Someone else. “How are you, Shigaraki? Are you well?”

“Sure,” Tomura says, tense and frustrated, “but I might be mincemeat in a second.”

“Then let’s have a chat, shall we? Stand by.”

Stand by for what? The giant’s coming. You can’t stand by. You all have to run. You try to say that, but suddenly a foul taste pervades your mouth, and it fills with something slimy, something that makes you cough and gag. Everyone else is doing the same. You hear Dabi curse, the words muffled and then choked off entirely. Your own body contorts in discomfort, and when you force your eyes open, you see black slime emerging from the others’ mouths, engulfing them entirely, engulfing you. It obscures your vision, and when you open your eyes, you’re somewhere else entirely.

It’s some kind of warp quirk, and overall, you much prefer Kurogiri’s. You glance around at your surroundings, just like the others are doing. They’re completely unfamiliar – an enormous room, high-ceilinged and dark. The only light comes from the tall capsules filled with bodies suspended in glowing liquid on either side of you, and from a bright screen up ahead. In front of the screen sits a man.

The location looks unfamiliar. But as you cough and struggle to clear the taste of the sludge from your mouth, you catch a familiar smell. Rot. Like a morgue, and suddenly you know exactly where you are. It was even darker last time, but the smell is unmistakable. This is where you met All For One.

All For One’s not here, and you have a feeling about who the man is, a feeling that’s confirmed a moment later when Tomura speaks. “Doctor,” he says. “It’s been a while.”

“Indeed. I always intended to reach out, but I wanted to see how you would do on your own. It’s been –” the doctor makes a displeased sound. “Underwhelming.”

“What part of taking down the Shie Hassaikai is underwhelming?”

“The fact that it wasn’t your doing. The heroes did the lion’s share of the work,” the doctor says, “while the lot of you merely swooped in, crippled Overhaul after he had already been captured, and kidnapped a child – only to return her. If you’d held onto her, I would have reached out sooner. That was quite a quirk you let slip through your fingers.”

“That wasn’t him. That was me,” you say. You’re not about to let Tomura take the fall for something you did, particularly when you aren’t at all sorry you did it. “If you’d reached out and let us know you were interested, I might have held onto her.”

You wouldn’t have, but there’s no need for the doctor to know that. He rises from his chair and turns to face you. “And who were you to make the determination to let her go?”

“I’m the one who’d have wound up taking care of her,” you say. You already didn’t like the doctor – the fact that he refused to care for Tomura when he was hurt leaves a bad taste in your mouth – but you like him even less now. You keep yourself conciliatory with an effort. “We didn’t have the capability to contain her quirk long-term. It was too much of a risk.”

“And you allow your underlings to make those decisions, Shigaraki?”

“I trust my comrades’ judgement,” Tomura says. “The League of Villains is functional whether we’re working as a group or not.”

“It’s quite a group,” the doctor says. “Let’s see – one teenage girl, one societal reject, two petty criminals, a serial arsonist and murderer, and a civilian to round things out.”

“You went with ‘civilian’ for Saintess? Really?” Dabi never says your codename with anything less than scorn. “Try quirkless next time. Then you’d be eight for eight.”

Now that you think about it, it’s weird that he targeted your lack of a record, when anyone else would agree that your quirklessness is the larger problem. The doctor ignores Dabi. “Still, it’s a team worth paying attention to – and perhaps worth helping, depending on what you intend to use them for. What do you intend to do with them?”

“Destroy All Might.”

The doctor tsks. “Those are your master’s words, and you aren’t him. Try again.”

“Destroy hero society.”

Tomura sounds like he’s taking a test. Taking one, and failing it. The doctor tsks again. “Close, but not quite.”

“Destroy everything,” Tomura snaps, and the doctor smiles. That smile cements your dislike for him for good. “Everything I see, I hate. There’s nothing about this world that’s worth saving, so I’ll destroy it all at once.”

Toga makes a skeptical sound. “What about me, Tomura? Are you even going to destroy the things I like?”

“There’s always room for my comrades’ wishes,” Tomura says. Toga grins. Tomura glances sideways, meets your eyes, then faces the doctor again. “My comrades can’t live as they want in this world. I can’t live in it at all. So I’ll tear it down, brick by brick, atom by atom, until there’s nothing left in our way.”

“Anarchy, then?”

“Anarchy’s not sustainable,” Tomura says, and you find yourself hiding a smile under your veil. “What happens next isn’t my problem. My comrades can choose what to do.”

“What if I don’t want to do anything?” Twice asks. “I want to drink coffee and eat sushi.”

“Ugh,” Dabi mutters. “I don’t give a shit about any of it. As long as nobody stops me from doing what I need to do.”

Every so often, Dabi alludes to some mission of his, trying to lure one of you into asking so he can tell you to fuck off. You’ve all learned to ignore it by now. “As long as the things I like are here, I don’t care what happens,” Toga says. “Everybody else can choose.”

It’s quiet after that, other than Twice musing out loud about whether sushi and coffee go together even slightly. The doctor raises his eyebrows. “Three of you are awfully quiet. Compress, Spinner, Saintess – what plans do you have after you’ve helped Shigaraki destroy everything?”

“I’m keeping my options open,” Compress says. “A true performer waits for the right moment to claim the spotlight.”

The doctor lets that go, probably because Compress is a real adult and not somebody he feels like kicking around. He faces you and Spinner. “The shut-in and the civilian. What will you do?”

Spinner opens his mouth and you cut him off. “I’ll do what Shigaraki asks of me,” you say. It’s not a lie – he’s asked you to build the new world, and you’ll do it as long as he agrees to live in it with you. “I’m his sidekick. That’s my job.”

“I’m not a sidekick, but I’ll do what Shigaraki asks, too.” Spinner’s smart enough not to bring up Tomura’s instructions about the new world. “I don’t have my own vision. I’ll follow the person with the best one.”

“And you believe Shigaraki’s vision is the best one.”

“Yes.” Spinner doesn’t hesitate.

“Remarkable,” the doctor says, but he doesn’t follow up with Spinner. Instead he turns to you. “I have no need to question your loyalty to Shigaraki. You had more to lose in following him than the others.”

More to lose, sure – but losing him would have been worse. The doctor returns his attention to Tomura. “It seems you do have some degree of vision, as warped and simplistic as it may be. And you are capable of inspiring some degree of loyalty. The situation is not as dire as I originally thought.”

“Thanks.”

“It’s still rather dire,” the doctor says, like Tomura’s acceptance of the backhanded compliment wasn’t the most sarcastic thing you’ve ever heard him say. “Still, I’ll assist you on a limited basis for now.”

“How limited?”

“Some financial support. You’re still lacking in that department. That being said,” the doctor continues, “I can promise significantly more should you convince Gigantomachia to submit to you. He was your master’s most powerful servant. If he accepts your rule, I’ll throw my considerable resources behind you.”

“So we have to fight him until he quits?” Dabi sounds skeptical. “Fuck that. I’ve got better things to do with my time.”

“Like what?” Spinner asks.

“There’s a potential ally I’m cultivating. If I’m right about him, it’ll be a coup for us. Way more than converting some random civilian.”

Tomura’s shoulders tense, and you pray he’ll let it slide – and he does. “I look forward to meeting them.”

“While you’re doing that, perhaps you can assist with the testing of a Nomu,” the doctor says. So he’s the one who makes them. You weren’t sure. “I’ve created a class of high-tiers, far more powerful than the Nomu Shigaraki deployed at USJ, and they’re ready to be tested against powerful heroes.”

Dabi looks like he’s about to tell the doctor to fuck off. Then he tilts his head, considering. “How powerful of a hero do you want?”

“As powerful as you can secure. If I’m correct about the strength of the high-tiers, lesser heroes will fall before them easily.”

Dabi cracks a nasty grin. “I’ve got somebody in mind.”

“Excellent. As for the rest of you –” the doctor snaps his fingers, and the smallest Nomu you’ve ever seen scurries forward. It’s carrying a box, and when you look closer, you see that it contains earpieces. “Take these. This is how I’ll contact you from now on.”

You each step forward to take them. “This is really it?” Twice asks, not all that quietly. “We just have to get the big guy to bow down?”

“It won’t be easy,” the doctor says. “His strength and stamina are unmatched. I’ll be very impressed if any of you survive.”

Spinner looks worried. You’re worried, too. Tomura isn’t. “Thanks for the tutorial,” he says to the doctor. You’re last in line to collect your earpiece, and you tuck it into your ear. “Send us back. I feel motivated all of a sudden.”

The doctor signals something – another tiny Nomu – and black sludge begins to erupt from the others’ mouths. The others’ mouths, but not yours. You look to Tomura, a surge of panic rising within you, and Tomura reaches out, his fingers closing on your sleeve for a split second before the warp tears him away. He’s gone. They’re all gone, and you’re alone in here. With the bodies floating in the glass capsules and the two tiny Nomus and the doctor.

You have the knife Spinner gave you strapped to your back, concealed with your backpack, but you don’t know the doctor’s quirk, and you still can’t fight. The only way out of here is if the doctor decides to let you go. “Sir, please –”

“Manners for me, too? I’m glad to see that someone in Shigaraki’s gang of misfits respects common courtesy.” The doctor smiles. It’s not quite a leer, but it’s enough to make your skin crawl. “Don’t worry, my dear. I’ll send you back to your master in short order. I just need to run some tests.”

“Tests?” you say uncertainly. “What kind of tests?”

“Nothing too painful, or too invasive.” The doctor beckons you closer, and you take a few hesitant steps. You don’t want him to get mad at you. This, whatever it is, will be worse if he’s angry. “All For One had a hunch when he met you, and I’d like to confirm it. You want to be as useful to your master as possible, don’t you?”

You don’t like that he keeps calling Tenko your master, but you do want to be as useful as possible. You nod. “Excellent. Hold out your hand,” the doctor says. You do, at which point he jabs a needle attached to an electrode into the meat of your palm. You yelp in pain. “Oh, hush. Has anyone explained the theory of quirk latency to you?”

Even with your palm stinging, even in fear for your life, you can’t help rolling your eyes. “Yes.”

“And you seem not to set much store by it.”

“It’s a lie,” you say. “Something they tell quirkless children so we’ll stay hopeful instead of recognizing how the world really sees us.”

“Explain it for me.”

The needle in your palm is buzzing. It feels like there are insects crawling beneath your skin. “Quirk latency theory suggests that the majority of people who appear to be quirkless are not. Instead, they possess latent quirks – quirks that don’t manifest for the first time unless certain conditions are met, and if those conditions are never met, the person in question appears to be quirkless for their entire life.”

The doctor yanks the sensor out of your palm. “Give an example.”

“If someone’s quirk is driving stick-shift perfectly,” you say. It’s the example you heard in school. It was stupid then and it’s stupid now. “It’ll never show up if they never get behind the wheel of a stick-shift car.”

“Sounds plausible, doesn’t it?”

“Maybe, but it doesn’t matter,” you say. The doctor wraps a blood pressure cuff around your arm. At least, it looks like a blood pressure cuff – when it constricts, it jabs dozens of needles into your bicep, and you whimper in pain. You can slice into your skin without blinking, but it’s different when someone else is in control. “If it never manifests and you never know what it is, it’s the same as not having one at all.”

“Mm. I suppose.” The blood pressure cuff squeezes your arm agonizingly tight, then beeps and releases. The doctor peels it away. “Your decision to release the girl, while frustrating on a professional level, was the correct decision with regard to Shigaraki’s survival. Lift the veil.”

“Sir –”

“I know your face already. Lift it.”

You raise the edge and flip it back, at which point the doctor stuffs a thermometer into your mouth. That one doesn’t stab you, but he jabs a needle into your lower lip a second later. A mask lowers over your eyes, ringed in tiny needles just like the cuff, and all the needles deliver a low, buzzing shock. The thermometer in your mouth beeps, but the doctor doesn’t remove it. “It’s intriguing that Shigaraki selected you, of all people, to serve as his sidekick – but far more intriguing is the fact that you accepted the role. All For One had charisma. The strength of his character drew others to him, and his wealth and benevolence certainly didn’t hurt. Shigaraki Tomura possesses nothing of the kind. How on earth did he entice a civilian away from what for all intents and purposes appeared to be a relatively normal, happy life?”

Not by being Shigaraki Tomura – and not just by being Shimura Tenko. You call him different names depending on who you’re with, but he’s the same person, the same man, regardless of whether you use the name given to him by his master or his father. The thermometer in your mouth beeps sharply, and the doctor extracts it in a hurry, followed by the needle in your lip. Then he lifts the eye mask away. Next he slaps electrodes onto your temples, the sides of your neck, your forehead, your chest – the same microneedles, the same electric shocks. You clench your jaw against the pain. You’re not going to make another sound.

Why are you letting this happen? The same reason you let Overhaul touch you, the same reason you didn’t give in to panic when All For One’s hand descended over your face. You’re doing it for Tenko, so you can stay with Tenko, so no one will try to take you away from him or take him away from you. When you think of it like that, it’s – not easy to survive, exactly. But it’s easier. Easy enough that the chorus of stings and shocks from the last set of electrodes don’t visibly break your composure.

It’s only once you’re free of electrodes and needles that you remember you were asked a question – and that you don’t remember what it was. “I’m sorry I didn’t answer your question. Would you mind repeating it?”

“Don’t worry. You’ve answered it,” the doctor says. “And All For One’s hunch about you was correct. You’re a victim of quirk latency. You are not quirkless.”

You look blankly at him. Your skin is stinging in a dozen places, and there’s an unpleasant buzz in your nerves. “The tests I just conducted were tests of the most common locations of quirk factors,” the doctor says. “The hands, the eyes, the mouth and nose – when receiving certain types of stimulation, quirk factors produce an abnormal response. I was unable to identify a discrete quirk factor for you, which indicates that your quirk is not vulnerable to external attack. Overhaul, Shigaraki, Compress – remove their hands, and they’re useless. Your quirk factor, however, can’t be separated from your body so easily.”

He's looking at you, clearly pleased with himself, clearly waiting for you to respond in kind. “I don’t have a quirk,” you say. Your instruments are wrong.”

“My instruments are never wrong,” the doctor says. “Neither is All For One. You have a quirk, my dear. It’s latent, and without a discrete quirk factor, we have few clues as to what it might be, but make no mistake, a quirk is present. You said you wish to be as useful to Shigaraki as possible. Imagine how much more useful you’d be with your quirk.”

“I don’t have a quirk.” You know you shouldn’t argue, that you should pretend to be happy or at least let it go, but you can’t. You’re quirkless. That’s it. That’s all you’ll ever be. “If I had an actual quirk factor, maybe I’d believe you. But those abnormal reactions – you jabbed needles into my face and shocked me. Of course my system acted up.”

“Your system reacted normally to the electric current. What indicated the presence of a quirk factor was something else. Don’t question me, my dear. This is my area of expertise.” The doctor’s smile is horrendously smug. “I’m tempted to keep you here, and send you back to Shigaraki once we’ve awakened your quirk –”

“No!”

You clamp your hands over your mouth too late to silence yourself, and the doctor continues speaking like you didn’t say a word. “But I’d prefer that Shigaraki stays focused on mastering Gigantomachia, rather than hunting me down to retrieve his favorite toy. I’ll send you back, but well away from the battlefield. I wouldn’t want anything to happen to you before we’ve discovered your quirk.”

You know better by now than to argue about whether you have a quirk or not. You nod mutely, and since you have your mouth shut, the black sludge oozes from your nose instead. You squeeze your eyes shut and wait for the taste and the sensation to fade, and when you open y our eyes again, you’re on a wooded hillside somewhere in the middle of nowhere. There are clouds of dust rising in the distance, and in the midst of them, you can see Gigantomachia’s silhouette. Tenko’s already fighting him.

Your phone buzzes in your pocket, and you take it out. Twice has been messaging you. A lot.

Twice: Saintess

Twice: hey Saintess

Twice: are y coming back or what

Twice: I k already had to make ten clones of Shigaraki to go get smashed because the real one can’t focus long enough to fight the big guy

Twice: sorry TWELVE clones

Twice: i won’t make any more fart jokes if you come back right now

Twice: WHERE R U HES GOING BERSERK

Damn it. You call Twice, praying he’s not up close and personal with Gigantomachia right now, and he picks up on the first ring. It’s colossally noisy on his end of the line and you find yourself having to shout. “Hey! Tell Tomura I’m fine and tell him to get his head back in the game!”

“Hey, you’re back! What took you so long? I – hey, boss, you might want to get back out there –”

“Make another clone,” Tomura snarls, and a moment later you hear his ragged breathing on the line. “What happened? Where are you?”

“I’m fine. He just wanted to talk. I’ll tell you about it the next time we have a second.” You speak quickly, calmly, even though the sound of Tomura’s voice and the fact that he’s worried about you are this close to making you burst into tears. “He dropped me off away from the battle so I wouldn’t get trampled. I’ll make my way back. Just focus.”

“Drop a pin. Spinner and Toga will come get you.” Tomura swears into the phone a moment later. “It’s not fucking fine. He can’t just –”

“Just focus,” you say again. “We’ll talk. Be careful.”

“I love you.”

Your heart twists. “Be careful,” you say again, and you hang up the phone.

You drop the pin as requested, then use your phone camera to check out the damage the doctor’s tests did. It doesn’t look good. Your lower lip is swollen, and you’ve got a rash around your eyes and your forehead and your neck — everywhere a microneedle went in. Your eyes are puffy, maybe from the needles, maybe from wanting to cry this much and holding it in. But maybe you shouldn’t hold it in. You’ve got some time before Spinner and Toga get to you. Maybe you should just get it out of your system. You sit down on a rock, bury your face in your hands, and cry, but the longer you cry, the worse it gets. A quirk. The doctor says you have a stupid quirk, and your whole life –

You can’t think about it. You can’t stop. You have to stop right now before anybody sees, and with no one else to turn to, you find yourself turning to a coping mechanism you thought you gave up on. It was nice of Spinner to give you the knife. You know for a fact you weren’t supposed to use it for this.

But it works. You wouldn’t do it if it didn’t, and by the time Spinner and Toga come to get you, you’re neatly bandaged under your shirt and sitting behind your veil with dry eyes. “Where have you been?” Toga asks. “Tomura-kun was really upset.”

“The doctor and I needed to talk about something. It’s all okay now.” Your voice sounds perfectly steady, and you’re perfectly calm. The doctor is wrong. You don’t have a quirk. You’ve never had a quirk, and since you’ve never had a quirk, your entire life hasn’t been built around dealing with something that was never even true. “How’s Tomura?”

“If we didn’t have Twice, we’d be screwed,” Spinner says. He looks grim. “Let’s go. Somebody’s probably going to be hurt by the time we get there.”

“What did the doctor want to talk to you about?” Toga asks as the three of you hike through the woods. “Something fun?”

“Not really.” You shrug. “He just wanted to give me a hard time about letting Eri go.”

It’s a safe lie, you think. One the others will buy, if Toga’s reminiscing about how cute Eri is are anything to go by. The real question will be if you can sell that same lie to Tenko. You think you probably can. You’ve lied to him directly before. And you’ve lied by omission, every time he tells you he loves you and you don’t say it back.

[moroseprose]

Orange Emoji OC Asks 🔶

🧡 (orange heart) - Is your oc honest? Why or why not? Are there only specific people they’re honest to?

🔥 (fire) - What drives your character in life? Is it a belief? A person? A goal? Whatever it is, what do they want from it and what are they willing to do to get it?

🌇 (sunset) - What does it take for your character to trust someone? Do they have to prove themselves? Or does your character not trust anyone no matter what? What made them this way?

🌅 (sunrise) - What does your oc look forward to every day? Do they have something to look forward to in the first place? What makes them wake up in the morning? Why do they want to be alive?

🐦‍🔥 (phoenix) - What has your oc had to overcome to get to where they are now? Were the challenges emotional or physical? Would you say they had to go through a “rebirth”? How did they change, if at all?

🍊(orange) - Is your oc more selfish or selfless? Are they willing to sacrifice themselves or their goals for others? Why are they this way?

🐅 (tiger) - What makes your character angry? Are they angry often? Does it take a lot to make them upset or are they quick to anger?

🍁 (maple leaf) - What brings your character joy? Do they find happiness in the small things? Does it take a lot to cheer them up?

🎃 (jack-o’-lantern) - What is your character’s greatest fear? Is it something primal like the dark or something specific like killer clowns? Did they gain this fear after a bad experience? Whatever it is, why are they scared of it?

🐹 (hamster) - How does your oc feel about animals? Have they ever had a pet? What made them feel this way towards animals?

🥕 (carrot) - How does your character treat themselves after a long day? Do they buy something new? Maybe they eat a sweet treat? Call someone they love? Take a hot bath?

🔸 (orange diamond) - Is your oc rich? Do they want to be? What’s their financial situation like? How does it affect how they see the world?

✴️ (eight-pointed star) - Is there anyone your oc admires or looks up to? What qualities of this person does your oc admire? Do they want to be like this person one day?

🏵️ (rosette) - What is your character’s most prized possession? Is it something they could never bear to part with? What makes this object so special?

🦊 (fox) - How intelligent is your oc? Are they a mastermind pulling all the strings? Or are they more dim-witted with a big heart? If they are smart, what do they use their intelligence for? To create? To get ahead?

🦺 (safety vest) - Is your character a cautious person or are they more reckless? Do they think before they act or do they act according to their heart’s desires? Why?

🥭 (mango) - What is your character’s general outlook on life? Are they a pessimist, optimist, realist or something else? Whatever they may be, how does this outlook affect the way they live their life?

📙 (book) - Does your oc keep a journal of some kind? Is it just a diary or does it hold a secondary purpose like a dream journal? What’s in it that they would never want anyone to see? If they don’t have a journal, what would they write in it if they did have one?

🎇 (sparkler) - If your oc had the chance to start their life over again, what would they change, if anything? How would this change them and the people around them? Would their lives be better or worse? Would they change anything in the first place?

🍑 (peach) - [18+ only, that means who answers/asks this and the targeted character must be 18+] What are your character’s thoughts on sex if they have any? What is their sexuality? What is their sex life like? Do they even have one?

🏀 (basketball) - Is your character physically active? Are there any sports they like to play/watch? Do they hate sports? If so, why?

[trickstarbrave]

Actually b4 I sleep:

I see in the bg3 arguments (carried over from ppl rules lawyering 5e too hard) that if a character wants to do something it is unethical or “gross” to use persuasion rolls to convince them out of it. Examples: that you should let Astarion ascend because he wants to, or let Shadowheart become a dark justiciar because “it’s all she’s ever wanted”

These arguments are stupid.

Normally I don’t go hard on the “this is a stupid argument” bc most of the time complex moral situations require nuance and you shouldn’t try and call ppl stupid for differing perspectives but. No this one is stupid.

Persuasion rolls are not magical mind control. They are literally using the force of charisma (whole other conversation but again it isn’t mind control) to talk about something to a character and have them see it from different perspectives. High rolls are not you overriding their will power or decision making—if they rly didn’t wanna, they wouldn’t do it. You can do this for objectively horrible end goals, but also good ones.

Not to gamify real life tragedies but IRL, talking someone down from a suicide attempt would be a charisma roll (I’ve been suicidal so I’m using this example). The person really “wants” to kill themselves—or at least, they really think they do. This isn’t a choice made in a vacuum. Ultimately people want to die when they think there is no way out of their problems be it bad mental health, abuse they’re constantly subjected to, insane amounts of debt they feel they’ll never be able to pay off, social isolation, grief, and so on. It can be a combination of factors, but really what they ACTUALLY want is a solution to the problems that are overwhelming them and making them feel like being alive is worse than being dead. Talking someone down from suicide is not a BAD thing to do. In fact it would be morally bad to go “well we have to let people do what they want. Go for it man here’s a loaded gun and some pills”. But you have to persuade them to help them. Because they’re in a really dark place and can’t see reason.

Shadowheart was raised in a cult. She doesn’t actually want to be a dark justiciar, she wants to feel accomplished and like she belongs. She has been punished, isolated, and hurt her whole childhood and had her suffering justified by those in power above her. She’s been abused and told being a dark justiciar is the best thing a sharran can be. That it is the height of Shar worship. And that Shar took her in and “loved” her when “no one else wanted her”. Her ideals and goals are built upon lies and abuse. You, as an outsider, can give her that perspective and tell her that no matter how hard it gets she is worthy of love and can uncover the lies used to cover up and erase her past. She is just so narrowed in on what she thinks is “right” based on what she’s grown up with that she is not thinking for herself, she’s falling back on cult doctrine to think for her.

Astarion “wants” to ascend because he wants to feel like no one can ever hurt him again. He wants to spite Cazador. He wants to feel safe. And not worry about burning in the sun too. But are those things worth your actual fucking soul and your ability to love and connect with other people? No. Astarion doesn’t actually want the power, he doesn’t actually want to rule the world, and this power will not actually keep him safe. He has mistaken power for freedom because of 200 years of abuse and also was almost killed via human sacrifice like a minute prior (turns in dnd are only 6 seconds). He isn’t exactly thinking rationally give he’s been free for a week and nearly died a few seconds prior. He’s running on base instincts. He’s leaning into the lies Cazador has drilled into his head: the weak suffer because they are weak and the only way to be safe is to be the strongest person around. But this is an ideology that isn’t true. Cazador wasn’t safe. He wouldn’t have been safe even ascended. Astarion won’t be either. It’s literally a Faustian bargain and the game hits you over the damn head with it multiple times. Talking him out of it means you to see Astarion for who he is: as a person beyond his abuse and what makes him useful or not.

Hell, on a smaller level, Wyll wanted to kill Karlach. You can find out very easily though that she’s not actually a bad person, it’s just a technicality of Wyll’s contract. Or are you gonna say Karlach is manipulative and immoral for telling the truth and pleading for her life??? Because it’s getting in the way of what Wyll wants to do! Mizora told him she’s heartless! He’ll suffer if he doesn’t! Gale wants to blow himself up and thinks it’s the right choice, better miss out on all of act 3 because why are you trying to convince him out of it???

You can still ofc make different choices in any storyline bc this is s video game I’m not here to tell you what you can and can’t do. Just arguing “actually it’s morally bad that I have to roll persuasion—“ is a dumb argument I need people to stop making.

[catastrophicdisasters]

alright i need to ramble abt TUA s4 somewhere that isn't at someone who doesn't care lmao

putting it under a see more bc a lot of it is based on stuff that's been said in the recent cast interviews and could definitely be considered spoilers

tl;dr: a theory post about who, if anyone, i think is going to die this season (and why, ranked by how narratively coherent i think their death would be, and how it would - or wouldn't - round off their character arc)

emphasis on the "i think", as obviously this is my opinion on what i think would make a satisfying narrative

so, in one of the interviews from today, Robert is asked how he feels about the "kind of sacrifice" at the end of the story, and his response is "yeah there's a kind of death that happens" and to then wax philosophical about physical death vs the kind of death that happens when the memory or the person is gone, and how there's a "kind of passing that happens"

and like, most people are convinced that someone's going to die by the end of the season, myself included, but i've just had another idea Robert really talked AROUND the word death, saying "a kind of death" and "a passing", and with him talking about that 'do you die when you physically die or when nobody alive can remember you' style thing, I'm thinking that maybe someone gets themselves erased from the timelines

so they still EXIST, as theyre not physically dead, but because nobody can remember them, it's still a kind of death (exactly like Robert said)

whether or not that person retains their memories is kind of irrelevant, though them keeping them does make for a more tragically satisfying arc - they gave up their existence to keep their family safe/save the world, and yet none of them will ever look at them with recognition or love again, and will never truly know just what they did for them. i think that could be done really well, as there's a special kind of beauty in a character who is happy to accept their own end in order to protect those they love (also, if i wanted to get super analytical of that, i could draw parallels between that idea and the trailer's choice of song - The End; the opening song of The Black Parade album, the funeral song that kicks off the narrative album with themes such as the life that comes after death-)

~

now, with that said, i want to go off about who my top choices for death/erasure actually are:

well, first i want to say who i don't think it's going to be, and that's Diego and Lila. and that is because they've set up this little family arc for them via Lila's pregnancy, and right from ep1 it was established that Diego was the most attached to Grace - his mother figure - highlighting the importance of the parental figure in his life. both of them have a strong sense of detachment and independence / not needing anyone else, while actually longing to be part of something, to have a family unit. so with the two of them now being married and having a child together, especially given what Ritu said in an article - that "they are not really communicating and are snapping at each other" - it sets up the perfect arc for them to find their place, together, and forging the family dynamic they both so clearly want.

I could talk more about them (i.e, Diego having multiple instances that make reference to his desire to prove himself to his father, vs Lila collapsing post s2 because she just wanted to know if The Handler - if her mother - ever really loved her), but that's not the point of this post

so working backwards from who i think is least likely (and why, obviously):

Viktor:

- originally i had a big question mark over Viktor, bc ive always kind of struggled to pick up the threads of his arc, but even then i still don't think that death/sacrifice would be narratively satisfying for him? is it possible that he sacrifices himself to save his family? i mean… i guess? he's always been more passive and less confrontational than the others, so even if the opportunity presented itself i feel like someone else would probably beat him to the punch

- BUT, that's still not actually the reason i think it won't be him - it's because i think a more satisfying ending for him would be for him to have everything he was denied in childhood. with him coming out, they've set themselves up really nicely to push an ending for Viktor that has him finding himself, understanding himself, and finally being happy with himself. whether he ends up keeping and accepting his powers or not makes no odds as long as HE makes that choice for himself! let him be surrounded by family/people who love him for who he is, let him choose to live for himself and be happy!

Allison:

- i have a similar problem with Allison that i have with Viktor, in that i don't really know where her arc is going, at least as far as the Hargreeves are concerned. Allison's been pretty clear that her priority is her daughter, getting back to her daughter, protecting her daughter. and now she has her back. and she even has Ray back!

- i've never reeeeally been a fan of redemption through death (though there are exceptions), so the thought of her being the one to die/sacrifice herself to save the rest of the Hargreeves just… doesn't sit right with me. particularly because i'm also fairly sure i read somewhere that Emmy said that Allison is kind of "done" with the Umbrella Academy family stuff, and that she's all about being a mother again, which brings me to my next point;

- Allison dying would actually have more of an emotional impact on Claire and Ray than it would to any of the Umbrellas. and, as nice as Ray is and I'm sure Claire will be, they are not the major characters in this show. they are not the ones we have spent three seasons connecting and sympathizing with. would her death still have impact? of course! but i think that there's too much to resolve (such as the events of s3, the fact that she already feels done with them all) to make her death be tragic and satisfying, and to still wrap up everyone else's arcs and the story as a whole

- her finding a way to accept and love her Umbrella family instead of constantly trying to distance herself from them, and learning to balance the family of herself, Ray, and Claire, with her family within the Umbrellas feels like it would be more satisfying for her than sacrificing herself to save the Umbrellas / the world

- could she still end up sacrificing herself to save Ray/Claire, and that in turn leads to someone else dying? yes, absolutely! or something happens to Claire and she no longers cares about living because she can't lose her daughter again? also yes, but that feels a bit... too dark, even for tua

Klaus:

- i feel a little controversial, putting him so far down the list (he's still placed fourth out of eight, though), but the thing is - with his powers back, he is functionally immortal. at that point, the only way he's dying is if he chooses to die. which could still lead to a satisfying end!! the boy who was scared of the ghosts he saw, who became scared of dying, becoming the man who chooses to die? very tasty potential, there. contrasts very nicely with the fact that he kept bringing himself back to life without even realising

- buuuut, that would conflict with what we've heard so far about Klaus's storyline this season; Klaus becoming a scared-of-everything germaphobe, having to learn "how not to be scared of life", falling back into addiction, and learning new aspects of his powers. i don't really see how all of that would lean into a storyline of him accepting death, ya know? it's a lot to do, with not a lot of time to do it well

- i will say, though, that i do love the idea of him somehow finding Dave in the afterlife, and that being part of helping him to accept death - that he can be reunited with the love of his life (this falls apart, however, when you realise that Dave's actor isn't currently credited for any episodes on imdb. still doesn't mean that he won't be, but... makes it less likely)

Luther:

- i genuinely debated with myself about who gets third slot between Luther and Five, but ultimately decided on Luther (which i'll further explain during Five's section)

- Luther literally has no purpose outside of the Umbrella Academy. in s1, he was defined by his being the only 'true' remaining member of the Academy, and having been sent to the moon for a seemingly pointless mission (and even though we now know that he was sent there to protect Abigail - she's alive now, so that doesn't really need revisting). s2 also had him at a loose end - he was fighting simply because that's all he thought he was good at, he tried to give his relationship with Allison another go once he realised she was alive, only for it to turn out that she's married, and then he was a (frankly, terrible) spotter for Five during the paradox psychosis fiasco. s3 literally had him get kidnapped by the Sparrows without anyone really noticing, and although he did eventual fall in love and gett married to Sloane, she vanished with the resetting of the universe. Sloane, incidentally, also doesn't have her actor listed on imdb as returning for s4

- he doesn't really have a multi-season arc to finish off; in fact, the only consistent facet of his personality is his desire to protect his family and 'do the right thing', whatever that might be

- i feel like for him, a good arc to send him on would be him becoming comfortable in his gorilla-body and maturing into the confident leader that would be expected of a "Number One". but, given the way his character has evolved (or devolved) through the series so far, i don't really see them doing that

- in fact, i think it's much more likely that they kill him simply because they don't know what else to do with him. which, ya know, kind of sucks

- HOWEVER, i do think there is good potential in having the first major leader-like decision that Luther makes - free from the influence of others - being to sacrifice himself to save his family. the one time he stands up and says "no, i've made my decision, and it's time for you all to respect that" while also tying it back to his overwhelming desire to love and protect his family? oh yeah, that'd be some good shit right there

Five:

- my god please just let the old man rest

- so, i think Five is less likely to flat out die than Luther is, but i do think some kind of timeline fuckery is much more likely where Five is concerned

- considering what Adian has already said about Five's arc this season

- "He doesn’t know what his place is in the universe. When he goes on this emotional arc with Lila, for the first time, he feels there is a reason for living." - i honestly think killing him would be an incredibly shitty thing to do. having him finally, finally, find his place in the universe, after getting stuck in the apocalypse at THIRTEEN, where he finds his entire family dead, proceeds to then spend 40 years alone, trying to get back to his family, before being picked up by the Temps, turned into a killer, finally getting back to his family, only to end up stuck back in his teenage body AND having to deal with three weeks of constant apocalypses, to then kill him???? jesus christ that would SUCK. like, i'm aware i have bias because Five is one of my favourites and i think his arc has some insane narrative potential, but i cannot be the only one thinking that if they kill him after all of that it's just going to leave a bitter taste?

- THAT SAID!! that said, i do think that it's likely that he would be the one that ends up getting erased from various timelines in order to save his family

- his whole thing has been about getting back to his family to save them from the apocalypse - to have him find his ultimate purpose being to do exactly that? it makes sense!

- in erasing himself from this timeline in order to save it, his purpose also then becomes founding the Temps Commission, with the intention of preserving the new main timeline that he literally 'died' to create and protect (and considering that they technically exist outside of the timeline, who is to say this isn't all part of Commission Founder Five's master plan anyway? hell, given that the Commission resides in the year 1955, he can go play guitar with Marty McFly and bitch about the perils of time travel while he's there)

- it would also solve the awkward elephant in the room; the fact that as of s4 he looks 18 but is actually in his 60s. he can erase himself from the main timeline, putting himself back into his old man body, and retire in peace knowing he's successfully saved his family and given them a future by also saving the world

- it's so deliciously tragic

Ben:

- oh god okay here we go

- i adore Ben and don't really want him to die, but i'd be lying if i said that his death wouldn't be incredibly satisfying, in the way only a true tragedy can be

- we all know this season is going to be focused on him and how he is going to be the one to cause the apocalypse this time, so it ending with him would make sense

- Blackman (the showrunner) has also said that he "wanted to come full circle with the family relationship". what is the FIRST thing we know about Ben? he's dead

- for the first two seasons, he haunts the narrative in a literal sense by being a ghost that only Klaus can see and so still sort of interacting with things, but considering we don't yet know what the Jennifer Incident is and how it actually affected the Umbrellas moving forwards, it could turn out that he has also been actually haunting the narrative - he's dead but so much has been driven by the nature of his death

- i also just really love the idea that the first thing we learn about Ben is that he's dead, and that also ends up being the last thing we learn about him

- taking it a step further, given that the Ben in the recap was definitely Sparrow Ben, it would be disgustingly, delightfully tragic for the final fate of Sparrow Ben to be the same as that of Umbrella Ben - that nothing any of them did actually mattered, because in the end, Ben was always going to die (can you tell i like a good tragedy)

- also, going far too deep into it (to the point that this isn't so much evidence that Ben is the most likely to die, but just a nice little tie in), parts of Ben's arc very much tie into the narrative of The Black Parade. you know, the MCR album that the song they used in the official trailer came from. The Black Parade, as an album, opens with a funeral song (just like the show opened with a funeral) and then continues to go over The Patient's life after death, the experiences from the afterlife, and even reflecting back on his life. quite fitting for Ben, in a way

- ANYWAY! Sparrow Ben also spent a good chunk of his time in s3 desperately wanting to be part of the Umbrellas, but having no idea how to go about it. the thought of him sharing the fate of Umbrella Ben and therefore becoming just like him, becoming Umbrella Ben? poetic

- there is also my sort-of half-theory, that the reason Ben is being overloaded with the Marigold is that he's actually somehow channeling both versions of Ben, so has twice the amount he should have, thereby destabilising him in some way, and one of the Bens needs to die. but, that doesn't really tie into Jennifer in any way, because that wouldn't have happened in the original/main timeline

- Ben is also the only character to have actually existed as multiple versions of himself in the two timelines - again, it is a perfect tragedy for him to die in both of them. maybe this time they save him from the Jennifer Incident, only for him to choose to sacrifice himself to save them all. ergo, it didn't matter, it didn't matter, he was always going to die

- i really like a well executed tragedy, okay? i also feel like it's one of the few satisfying ways to successfully kill off a character. still hurts like a bitch, but at least it was worth something

~

okay well, this got sufficiently away from me! kudos to you if you read the whole way through, and i do not blame you in the slightest if you skipped through lmao i also probably missed a few things, and maybe got a few things wrong so uh, whoops on that

tl;dr: probably won't die: Diego, Lila unlikely to die, but possible: Allison, Viktor wouldn't surprise me if they died: Klaus, Luther probably won't die, but might end up erased from the main timeline: Five most likely to die (and would be beautifully tragic): Ben

again again - purely my opinion!! and also what i'd like to see, based on what i personally feel can make a good narrative!

good luck for the 8th brellies <3

[specialagentlokitty]

Carol Danvers x reader - a lifetime

Part three:

A few weeks had passed, and there still wasn’t any activity on the console, and Carol frowned heavily, turning around to look at you laying across the beanbag.

“Are you sure this’ll work?”

“Yes, stop questioning my own knowledge of my people.”

She raised her hands.

“Alright moody.”

She walked away, and she dropped herself next to the beanbag.

You turned your head to look at her, setting your book down.

“What’s wrong?” You asked.

“I just feel like we could be doing more, instead of sitting around.”

“Danvers, there’s thousands of dying stars and suns out there, we don’t know where the next one will be. At least this way we can get there quick enough so I can see who it was. Then we map out the previous ones to hopefully find the next.”

“But why do they need all this power? For what?” She asked.

You sat up, sitting yourself next to her on the floor.

“My best guess is probably to try carry on what they started, or, to end every planet in those universe, and create a new one.”

She looked at you.

“You guys can do that?”

“Not without sacrifice or extreme power. Do you know what happens to a star when it dies?”

“Yeah, it implodes.”

You turned yourself to look at her.

“That’s not all. It turns into a supernova, but, if there is enough mass there, it will create a black hole which will destroy everything.”

She looked confused.

“Then how do they create a new universe?”

“The creator will create a new one on the other side of that black hole, everything that goes into will be used to create new life on the other side.”

You sighed, running a hand over your head.

“I don’t think that’s the goal here, it’s either to finish trying to take over the universe, or, it’s to get back at me.”

“Wouldn’t they think you died?”

You shook your head.

“No, they would know I’m still alive. My guess is with all this power, they’re going to try and gain rule over every planet known to this universe. It’s about power. It’s always about power.”

“Yeah, that’s true.”

You titled your head a little.

“Question.”

She looked at you and smiled.

“Shoot.”

“Why do you not return to earth if it’s your home?”

Her smile fell.

“I.. have some things I need to work out there, I guess.. I don’t really have much left anymore, not after all these years…”

You furrowed your brows.

“You have family and friends, no?”

“Yeah, yeah of course.”

“Then you can return for them?”

Carol gave a sad smile.

“I wish it were that easy, but there’s planets out there that need somebody to protect them, and I realised that’s my job. I can protect those who can’t protect themselves.”

“Very noble indeed.”

Carol looked spun herself so she was facing you fully.

“You don’t agree with it?”

“Well, I know nothing about friends, or family, or love, or happiness, but I can see this life makes you lonely, wears you down. Perhaps getting answers isn’t something to pursue, but something to put behind you, and move on with your life, for those waiting for your return.”

“I don’t mind it, plus I’ve got you to keep me company.” She smiled.

You laughed slightly.

“Ah yes, the space criminal wanted by most civilisations.”

“That’s why you won’t leave the ship ever?”

“I have no need, my job is in this ship not outside.”

She gestured to the window.

“So… you don’t miss exploring all of that?”

You climbed back on the beanbag and laid down, picking your book up again.

“I have seen it millions of times, nothings changed.”

Carol stayed quiet for a moment.

“Seriously though, never experienced love? You’ve never dated anybody? Fallen in love? Stole a kiss from someone when nobody was looking?”

“My line of work wasn’t exactly made for people with those emotions Danvers.”

“Wow, we really need to get you outside more.” She laughed.

You shook your head a little bit, turning your attention back to the book in hand.

“Can you dance?” Carol asked.

“No.”

“Do you have any talents?”

You sighed, sitting the book down again, turning your attention to her.

“Like what?”

“I don’t know, play an instrument, draw, sing, that kinda stuff.”

You thought for a moment.

“I can play what you call a guitar, however I won’t play a song for you.”

“I can dance.” She grinned a little.

You gestured to the large empty space nearby.

“Go on then.”

“Hey, if you’re not gonna show me yours I won’t show you mine.”

“Fine. Why the curiosity in me?”

“Well, if I’m going to be travelling who knows how long with you we’re going to have to be friends at some point.” Carol grinned.

You rolled your eyes at her and reached for your book only to hear the console beep.

Leaping up, you rushed over and wrote down the coordinates, rushing to Carol who was getting ready head there.

“We don’t have long, go now!”

You sat down, and you anxiously waited for the pair of you to arrive at the remnants of the star.

It took a few hours to get there, and you ran to the back of the ship, sliding down the ramp into the open space.

Carol grabbed you from under your arms, and she took you to the now dead star.

You narrowed your eyes, gesturing for Carol to go around it, so she did, giving you a view of all angles.

You tapped her hand, telling her to stop, and you looked at the star, watching as small ribbons of green and yellow seeped out of what was left.

“Can you see anything?” Carol asked.

“A little bit, but I don’t recognise the colours.”

You tapped her hand and she let you go, watching as you just seemed to effortlessly stand there in the middle of space.

There was no use of powers from what she could see, you just stood there.

Taking something from your pocket, you held it up to Carol.

“I need you to hold this for me.”

“Sure.”

She moved over, and took it from your hand.

You held out your hand, watching as the small wisps of colour moved over, and you carefully guided them into the vile Carol was holding.

You shoved the lid on and took it back, stuffing it back into your pocket.

“That’s all we need.”

“Let’s go then.”

She took hold of you and guided you back to the ship, dropping your feet in the ship, and she landed on her feet as well, heading to the front.

“I need a place to work.”

“Take the table, I don’t use it anyway.”

You nodded, walking over and you grabbed your bag, taking a few things out.

Sitting down, you narrowed your eyes as you stared at the ever moving wisps.

You held them up to the light and slowly set it back down in the table.

“Can it tell us anything?” She asked.

“Not much, I don’t recognise the colours, but there is a chance I may have forgotten them it’s been that long.”

“Hold that thought.”

She walked away and came back a few minutes later, holding up two headset looking devices.

“Will these work?”

“I’m not diving into my own memories, no.”

“What other choice do we have? This is just going to keep getting worse.”

You ran a hand over your hair.

“I know, okay? I know. But I can’t go into my own memories, please Danvers, I’m asking you to respect that.”

“Okay, I’m sorry. But what else can we do?”

“I can use this to change your algorithm, instead of focusing on power like mine we can set it so it focuses on this for whatever it may be used for. When they use their powers you’ll know.”

“Yeah, let’s do that.”

She watched as you walked over to the console, and when your back was turned to her she walked around the table.

A few droplets of blood, she noticed it when you were talking.

Carol furrowed her brows, and she looked at you before walking over to a different console.

For now she wasn’t going to say anything, she didn’t know how to approach the subject, she was just hoping you would tell her if it was serious

[serena-joy]

Here’s the problem with Mission Impossible Dead Reckoning part 1. Spoilers below, obvs.

——————————————————

Well there are several in my opinion, but they all center around the death of our favorite MI6 agent, Ilsa Faust.

Now I have to give the disclaimer that I am extremely biased as a big fan of the character, and Rebecca Ferguson in literally everything. With that said, I am going to try my best to approach this as logically and objectively as I can.

First let’s talk a little about the development and reception of the character throughout the series. I think this is important because big action franchises like this are primarily concerned with money. Of course the action and stunts will draw the most people in, but secondary to that is having characters the audience likes and wants to root for. It’s really kind of boring watching characters in peril when you don’t care about them. I bring this up because a major character death can absolutely impact the success of the franchise moving forward. Anyway, Ilsa was brought on for Rogue Nation as a foil of sorts to Ethan Hunt, but also as an equal to him. A different side of the same coin, if you will. The character was very well received by audiences, and MI5 is regarded as one of the best in the franchise. I think a lot of that is owed to the introduction of this new and interesting character, and of course the performance given by Rebecca Ferguson. They managed to keep Ilsa mysterious and morally grey throughout the whole film, while simultaneously making us care about her. Again, credit to the writing and performance. This carried over to Fallout as Ilsa became more fleshed out and solidified as a permanent member of the team. And still the character is undeniably a fan favorite leading into the next entry.

Now, we know romance is not that important in an action franchise, but we go into Dead Reckoning part 1 with high hopes for something happening between Ilsa and Ethan, based especially on hints from Fallout. But even so, their relationship and connection is so compelling, it would be satisfying even if it were to stay totally platonic. Here we have two characters that care about each other and their team members more than anything else, including themselves.

So that brings us to the untimely death of Ilsa Faust about half way through Dead Reckoning part 1. I have problems with this narrative choice for several reasons, including the rationale behind her death, the repercussions on the story, and how the other characters reacted.

Now I want to be extremely clear here. Ilsa dying in and of itself is not the problem.

As a fan of the character of course I wouldn’t want her to die, but I realistically was not expecting her to make it out of this franchise alive. Ilsa, like Ethan, is absolutely the kind of person who would sacrifice herself for the good of her team. Even for someone she barely knows. Ethan is the same way, but they can’t obviously kill off the main character (unless they do which would be…a choice). So, while I was hoping it wouldn’t be so soon, I was on some level expecting her to die. The biggest problem I have is that she did not get a death even close to deserving of her character and the impact she’s had on the franchise.

Now when looking at the possible reasons for Ilsa’s death, there are several things to consider. Narratively the death of a major character close to the protagonist is usually to affect or motivate them in some way. With the setup from the past two movies, Ilsa was primed to absolutely be a character whose loss should devastate Ethan, but… it didn’t really? In fact the affect on the entire team was, in my opinion, very understated. I get that they had to keep their heads in the game and continue the mission, but I don’t know… I guess I was just expecting much more of a reaction than what we got. Now, call me an optimist but I think it’s possible this could have been done to leave things more open for the next installment. We all know these movies are sort of written as they go along, so perhaps during filming Chris McQuarrie wasn’t honesty sure if this was a true death or not and didn’t want to write himself into a corner. But regardless, McQuarrie has said the death of a character close to Ethan was necessary to up the stakes and drive the story. But like I mentioned, we don’t really feel that much of an impact in the aftermath of her death. It can be argued that this was necessary for Ethan to make the right decision and not kill Gabriel (the bad guy), otherwise all information is lost and her death is in vain. But if that’s the case, why do we have the flashback of Gabriel killing someone Ethan cared about in the past? It just seems redundant and unnecessary.

Now here’s where you’ll have to forgive me as I have not seen the early installments in a very long time, but if I’m not mistaken, Gabriel and this mystery person are never shown or mentioned prior to this film. So why, pray tell, did we need to invent this backstory to make Ethan hate the villain if Ilsa was going to die and get us to the same outcome? Or if we flip that around, why did Ilsa need to die if he already had history with this guy and a tragedy to motivate him? If I’m missing something here please feel free to chime in, but I don’t understand the narrative logic here.

For this reason, I’m more inclined to believe the decision to kill Ilsa may have been driven by something outside the story. Scheduling can be a major factor when it comes to casting, so it’s entirely possible Rebecca was not able to commit to further installments due to her increasing demand and busy schedule. But, I’m not so sure about that. I don’t know Rebecca of course but based on a lot of interviews I’ve seen her do, she has loved being part of this franchise and has excitedly jumped at every opportunity to continue to be a part of it. I would like to think she would have made every effort to commit to both films, as they are the last two in the franchise anyway. The other reason I’m skeptical about this explanation is that she had a great relationship with both Tom Cruise and McQuarrie, so if she decided to move on I would have expected a much different sendoff. Either something open ended with the possibility of returning in the future, or a death that is depicted more heroically with much more impact to the tone of the movie and characters.

Which leads me to what I think is a more likely explanation - a studio decision. I don’t have to tell you all that the way women are treated in the male-dominated action film world is not great. To say the least. There seems to be some unspoken rule that while a male character can be brought back time and time again across a 20+ year franchise, the female lead must be replaced with every entry. Why? Because the male target audience might appreciate something shiny and new to look at with each installment. It’s sick, it’s gross, but that is how it has been. One thing I loved so much about Mission Impossible though, was how it broke this mold and charted new territory by bringing the female lead back and not only that but retaining her as an important and three dimensional character. But after dead reckoning I’m starting to realize that maybe Ilsa has been on borrowed time this whole time. I’m not sure why it has to be this way, but it sure looks a lot like Ilsa was killed to make room for Hayley Atwell’s character to become the new female lead. Maybe some studio exec thought they might lose viewership if audiences were asked to care about not just one but two female leads in an action franchise. I understand the desire to bring in new characters to keep things fresh, but the notion that one woman has to disappear to make room for another is honestly the kind of bullshit I am just so tired of seeing. It’s 2023 and we are still not past this, but I digress.

If you ask me, I think the joke is going to be on them. I know a lot of people are upset by the decision to take Ilsa out of the franchise and I wouldn’t be surprised if some decide not to tune in for part 2. I know personally I’ll be waiting for confirmation that Ilsa does or does not appear before I make the decision to watch. When Ilsa died I immediately became way less invested in the rest of the movie. If she’s truly dead I honestly can’t see myself caring enough to sit through part 2.

Which brings me full circle back to the story. If Ilsa’s death had been done in such a way that her massive positive effect on the franchise was somehow honored or acknowledged, I don’t think I personally would have had the same reaction. And I think I would have kept watching. But whatever the reason for the choice to kill the character, what I can’t figure out is why it wasn’t better written. I think the only satisfying explanation would be that she in fact is still alive, but I’m honesty afraid to hope for that given the track record of the movie industry as a whole.

The only glimmer of hope I’m holding onto is something Rebecca said in an interview. She is asked how stunts compare between Mission Impossible and Dune, and mentions a stunt she performs that she can’t recall if it was in “the first or second one.” It’s a little unclear if she’s referencing Dead Reckoning part one and two, or Dune part one and two. But given the context I think it seems like she’s talking about dead reckoning, which would indicate she is in both part one and two. But decide for yourself:

[ofdetonation]

@hissuccessor​​  inquired :    please don't go ( end me )      ╱      asks  from  my  other  blog.

𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗥𝗘  𝗪𝗔𝗦  𝗔  𝗣𝗥𝗢𝗠𝗜𝗦𝗘  𝗞𝗔𝗧𝗦𝗨𝗞𝗜  𝗛𝗔𝗗  𝗠𝗔𝗗𝗘  𝗛𝗜𝗠𝗦𝗘𝗟𝗙  𝗦𝗢𝗠𝗘  𝗧𝗜𝗠𝗘  𝗔𝗚𝗢,   𝗧𝗢  𝗞𝗘𝗘𝗣  𝗜𝗭𝗨𝗞𝗨  𝗦𝗔𝗙𝗘,   𝗪𝗛𝗔𝗧𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗥  𝗜𝗧  𝗧𝗔𝗞𝗘𝗦 .      it was an unwavering promise he made before they entered their first war,   something he made sure to fulfil in the second,   one he nearly carried with him to the grave      ╱      because if  one  of them had to carry a legacy on his shoulders,   persevere with it,   be the hero that he was granted the powers to be,   then every step katsuki makes would strengthen izuku’s future too.     it was not a promise that was meant to usurp the young bakugou’s own goals,   but to remind the other to be there in the moment,   alive ;     to walk through life knowing it’s worth living.

it did not mean he wanted his career to be cut short.     it did not mean he  wanted  for dynamight to be short-lived in the span of heroic histories      ⸺      a bright spark of light,  snuffed out too soon      ⸺      but a promise is a promise.

even if nobody knew until the end.

one would think that villainy would be at an all time low with the absence of their biggest names in history,   the void of a voice to lead them      ╱      but villainy persists,   and katsuki is one of the few heroes who carries a no-tolerance rule in their society,   effective in villain capture and detainment.     dynamight has earned a spot in japan’s up-and-coming heroes as someone who was efficient at everything he does :     but he has yet to surpass izuku midoriya,   hero deku,   on the charts.     katsuki likes to choke this up to their fanbases      ⸺      people seem to prefer the more classic take on heroism,   someone straight out of a comic book,   and katsuki’s hero persona was anything but.     (  but he  never  wants to sacrifice his authenticity,   and so he falls a bit behind,   just enough to miss out on beating his friend.  )

today is a rare day that hero dynamight receives an urgent team-up request from the other hero in question.     it’s something about an undercover mission they need extra hands for,   a sticky situation where the firepower was needed,   but it required a delicate touch that izuku  knew  katsuki could manage.     izuku keeps the information light while informing him of the risk of civilian lives,   the potential of an underworld bust on dangerous substances,   the risk they had themselves by going in     ╱      but hero dynamight,   undeterred by such odds,   accepts the request without hesitation.

he tells the agency to prepare and mobilise :     all hands on deck,   all sidekicks ready to support in the relief efforts.     the short notice means nothing to the blond as he slips on his mask and gauntlets to go to the location specified by the other hero      ⸺      and as the agency pulls itself together and sidekicks start flooding out the doors,   with the explosive hero following suit,   there is a sense of uneasiness as dynamight steps onto the streets.     they are ultimately unaware of what is about to happen :     even  less  aware,   perhaps,   that their quick glances and hushed whispers at the sight of the pro hero could be the very last time they ever see the hero on their streets again.     (  ah,   but there hasn’t been any reports on crime surging in their prefecture      ╱      what is there to worry about ?     even with dynamight’s agency on sudden high alert,   even with the hero himself making his presence known,   why should they ever think that they were looking at the possibility of loss ?  )

katsuki makes it to the location      ⸺      on top of a building,   overlooking the city they were about to send into unrest      ⸺      and sees deku,   unmasked and cape wrapped tightly around his neck,   kept close.     the blond strides over and offers a quick pat on the shoulder.

❝    couldn’t keep me outta yer shit,   huh ?    ❞     katsuki says it bluntly,   but the underlying tone is one of teasing,   almost playfulness.     he is almost thankful to be there.     (  there comes an issue with being  too  good at one’s job      ╱      villains never want to try and mess with his district,   and while it’s a great thing,   it gets a bit boring dragging in petty criminals.     to be in a huge bust like this ?     at least it’d be fun.  )     ❝    they ain’t gonna stand a chance against us,   y’know.     fuck,   they’re gonna run the other way when  you  show up.     y’probably didn’t even need me here.    ❞

he offers a grin for a moment before finally cutting to the chase.     with a better guarantee nobody could know what they were on about,   katsuki presses for a bit more information on what they were dealing with.     it’s a drug bust      ╱      they aren’t sure  what  the nature of the drug was,   but there have been a few variants of different things that lingered after the wars,   some with devastating effects.     the reason they needed more people was because there were reports of civilians being held captive for ransom.     or,   worst case scenario,   they were guinea pigs      ⸺      both situations deplorable,   and both reminding the hero that he was glad his agency were on top of rescue efforts.     the final part of it all was that they had reason to believe that the criminals were prepared to counter even the strongest of the pro heroes      ╱      that included them.

it was no wonder deku requested a team-up.     this was a nasty situation with too many factors that could go wrong :     but katsuki,   with determination in crimson and grin filled with poorly shielded rage,   would seek the perfect victory.

night falls and the two pros have since moved from their meet-up point to another roof closer to the location,   using the cloak of darkness to better approach the determined location of the criminals they were taking in.     their comms are on :     dynamight hears the familiar voice of uravity through the private line they share,   monitoring from her location on the north side,   followed up by tsukuyomi’s own clarifying his position in the east.     he then hears creati coming in from the west      ⸺      katsuki wonders if izuku extended the team-up invitation to most of their class,   seeing as they were  all  capable heroes in their own rights now.     it would make sense,   at least      ╱      they were all trained by the best.

he takes the chance to pitch in through the comms :     ❝    ‘s dynamight.     deku and i are in position in the south.     who’s givin’ us the go ?    ❞

❝    it’ll be ingenium,    ❞     returns creati’s voice,   ❝    he’s currently leading the scouting team to scope out the place and make sure it’s clear for us to go in.     he has vantablack and lizardy with him,   so we’re in very capable hands.    ❞

ah.     members of former 1b ?     katsuki turns off his comm and huffs.

❝    got a hell of a lotta pros out here,   deku.     i dunno if i like it.    ❞     crimson turns to the other in the darkness,   brows furrowed.     ❝    we dunno what the hell they got in there ‘n they could very well be plannin’ t’use whatever the fuck this drug is to hit us hard.     we  better  have our priorities right.    ❞

whatever izuku says in response is quickly overshadowed by the blond turning on his comm again to listen for iida,   biting back any retort.     he is nervous      ╱      the sudden lack of information was becoming more vital  every  second they spend waiting,   and katsuki is sure that these villains haven’t gotten themselves in a bad position without contingencies.     these kinds of organised criminals don’t just reveal things like this.

what was the drug for ?     why leak information now ?     did the commission have more information than they’re giving to their heroes ?      ⸺      and if they were,   then this was a dangerous game they were playing,   being kept in the dark.     hero society was  barely  recovering after the wars :     they can’t afford another hefty blow.

and the presence of civilians inside was discouraging at best for the explosive hero,   terrifying at worst      ��      why were they  there ?     there had to have been a surge of missing persons reports in some prefectures,   especially the one they’re in right now,   and if there were,   was there no definite conclusion on relation ?     did they all share similar quirks ?     were they all of a specific age group,   gender,   or were they too random to determine ?     the blond grumbles in thought      ⸺      he has plans to ask.     he’d figure out what the hell was really going on behind the scenes once they’d clamped down on these assholes.

izuku asks about what he’s thinking about.

❝    nothin’,    ❞    he offers after a brief silence,   ❝    dun worry about it.    ❞

❝    ingenium reporting in,    ❞     cuts through the comms,   and katsuki is already at his feet and on the edge of the building,   looking down at their target.     ❝    once the alarm is sounded by vantablack on the east side of the building,   you’re all clear to move in.     tsukuyomi will be keeping the majority of their forces preoccupied.    uravity,   creati,   be prepared to work on the rescue efforts.     deku and great explosion murder god dynamight,   you’re tasked with finding  and  destroying the majority of the drugs,   but leave some for forensic analysis !    ❞

katsuki glances at izuku and rolls his eyes at the comment.     he can see the freckled hero stifle a laugh as he snaps back :     ❝    dun tell me what to do,   sonic the hedgehog.    ❞

the seconds tick by.     a minute passes,   and katsuki’s hands twitch,   the warmth emanating through his gloves briefly before cooling down again.     as soon as he hears the wailing of the alarm from the east,   the blond turns his gaze to izuku with a wide grin,   and  immediately  jumps off the building into the fray      ╱      the guards are taken down by the pro within seconds,   knocked out and thrown aside before he blasts his way through the door.

subtlety was never his strong suit.

but with most of the forces fleeing to the east side of the building to deal with one of their most powerful classmates,   heroes deku and dynamight find  very  little resistance as they begin their search through the building      ⸺      any resistance they encounter is easily squandered by their combined strength.     katsuki finds himself slamming open the doors to every room they pass      ╱      some have civilians,   scared and huddled away,   eyes brightening when they see two of their best up-and-coming heroes at their rescue.     katsuki has to call on his sidekicks to hurry the hell up a few times.

but as they keep running into civilians and finding little evidence of the drug ever being there,   the bakugou begins to question their information.     what were they missing ?     why was it that they were told the drug was likely being housed on the south side,   but all they’ve found so far were  dozens  of civilians scared out of their minds ?

❝    the hell ?     we shoulda found something by now.    ❞     katsuki slams the next door open to meet an empty room,   growling in frustration,   quickly opening their comms.     ❝    oi,   dynamight here.     we haven’t found the drugs yet.    ❞

❝    what ?    ❞     the shock in creati’s voice is evident.     ❝    are you sure ?     the information was reliable when we received it,   they should be in the south side …     are there multiple levels that you haven’t explored yet ?    ❞     a pause.     katsuki’s eyes narrow as he listens to her quickly usher more civilians in the correct direction.     ❝    try heading towards tsukuyomi’s position,   quickly.     it’s possible they moved the drugs to throw off our intelligence.    ❞

❝    or they were never here.    ❞     katsuki storms down the hall towards the east part of the building regardless,   gesturing for izuku to follow.     ❝    worse,   they had this planned all along,   and they’re gonna use ‘em to take out the biggest players on the field.    ❞

❝    then you shouldn’t ⸺ !    ❞

katsuki cuts in.     ❝    fuck that !     i ain’t letting this stupid mission go to shit,   and neither should  you,   so you keep focusing the damn rescues !    ❞

❝    but if your hypothesis is sound,   we would be risking some of the biggest heroes in our society right now by sending you both in.     we cannot afford to be ⸺    ❞

❝    i said focus the rescues !     i’ll call in when i fix this shit.    ❞     katsuki takes out the in-built comm device from his mask and pockets it,   turning to the freckled hero with frustration settling behind his eyes.     ❝    don’t do  anything  stupid,   got it ?     they’re gonna be looking to wreck our shit when we get there,   and the last thing i need’s anything less than a perfect victory against these assholes.    ❞

with or without mutual agreement,   dynamight uses his quirk to close the distance between them and tsukuyomi with ease      ╱      and when he shows up,   he sees the  full  might of dark shadow working their hardest to keep tokoyami safe at the core,   using the shield of darkness to their advantage while the other heroes swoop in.     the villains in question are undeniably carrying some power      ⸺      quirk wise,   and it seems most are carrying some guns,   or even some needles with a substance in them.     katsuki assumes the worst with the presence of the needles :     the drugs were there,   somewhere,   but they can’t pinpoint the location.     and if they can’t pinpoint it …

well,   there  was  one thing he could do.

it requires getting his former classmate out of there,   first.     his dance of detonations begin and the villains are hard-pressed to keep up with his speed,   izuku’s strength,   and tsukuyomi’s overwhelming presence when they all work together.     katsuki makes it a point to condense his explosions so dark shadow isn’t  as  affected      ╱      and it doesn’t take long for them to get what villains tsukuyomi couldn’t get on his own,   the explosive hero brushing off his shoulder with a scoff when the dust settles.

(  he shouldn’t have assumed that everything was going to settle      ⸺      nothing was ever so simple.     why  would  it be ?  )

the next round of villains flood the room with more numbers,   more quirks which were meant to counter theirs,   whatever the substance was at their disposal.     each wave they end up facing requires a bigger demand from the blond,   from tsukuyomi and deku,   from their quirks and their tactics as they fight them off.     this was starting to go wrong.     tsukuyomi was  supposed  to have taken care of most the opposition      ╱      these numbers were still ridiculously high for what they were facing,   and many were determined to get close enough to them despite all of them being efficient close-combat fighters.    ��and then,   there was a point where they were beginning to get pushed back      ⸺      and a point where even izuku,   with all his quirks and the strength of one for all,   was in serious danger.

(  i’ll keep izuku safe,   whatever it takes.     he told himself this in the ending days of their first year at u.a.,   before they marched onto a battlefield and faced horrors that 16 year old kids should  never  have to face.     he told himself something similar way back when he was young,   too,   before their fallout and after he’d gotten his quirk      ╱      i’ll keep him safe,   the young bakugou had said,   so proudly and brightly to inko midoriya herself,   brimming grin the only factor she needed to know he was speaking the truth.  )

it’s like the first war again.     katsuki sees the threat long before izuku can react,   overwhelmed by the presence of so many others,   and his body moves without thinking.     the promise lingers in the back of his mind for a moment as he shoves the green-haired hero out of the way and feels the foreign object pierce through his body      ╱      through his lung,   the offending item removed to make him  choke  on his blood,   blood seeping into already-dark costume as he uses his strafe panzer to fend off the villains on this side.     (  he needs to stop finding himself in these situations :     his body is littered with the scars from the previous wars for all the same reasons,   and if he makes it out of this one      ⸺      though it doesn’t feel like it,   with how he is already coughing out blood      ⸺      it was just going to leave another one.  )

tsukuyomi notices first,   calls on dynamight to fall back,   but the blond spits out the iron in his mouth and grins through the pain.     deku is controlled,   but angry :     and if he also tries to tell katsuki to back down,   the blond doesn’t hear.     he has the arsenal of strafe panzer at his disposal      ⸺      and he has some  other  promises to keep.

by the time the battle finally quietens down and the villains make their retreat,   katsuki is almost certain that his lung      ⸺      and all the other wounds he’s sustained in the prolonged fight,   despite his  best  efforts to keep them to a minimum      ⸺      were beyond repair.     his quirk’s disadvantageous effects were starting to impact him as well      ╱      dizzy,   restless,   flushed,   sick to his stomach and making the world spin,   forcing the blond to sink down to his knees and cough up any remnants of blood again.

❝    fuck.     i ain’t done yet,    ❞     katsuki grumbles,   trying to push himself up on his feet but stumbling forward,   barely  catching himself from falling.     ❝    need to ⸺     gotta get rid of this fuckin’ place.     blow it up.    ❞

❝    you’re in no state to be going anywhere except the hospital !    ❞     tokoyami spares a glance to izuku in sudden panic,   moving in to try and lift katsuki up himself.     ❝    come,   dark shadow and i can take you there.     this place  will  come down.     we do not need to do more than what we’ve already done.    ❞

❝    no.    ❞     katsuki shoves tokoyami off,   crawling over to one of the downed villains and grabbing something off him.     he winces.     ❝    this place is a  shithole.     i gotta set up my bracers fer detonation near the power source.     y’dunno how to do that.    ❞     he shakily holds up what he’d taken :     a needle.     ❝    but y’can take this t’the authorities,   tell ‘em it’s what they want.     deku,   yer runnin’ me t’the heart of this hell.    ❞

katsuki glances at izuku and sees the hesitation.     (  he’s hesitant,   too :     the wounds meant he  can’t  survive if he rigs the place to explode behind them.     there was no time to save himself and to save more civilians ending up like the ones they’d seen tonight.  )

❝    izuku,   y’gotta do it.     i’ll make it.    ❞

he  hates  lying.     he hates saying it through gritted teeth,   knowing damn well that izuku knew the truth.     but the tiny bit of hope seems to be enough to spur the green-haired hero on just enough to fulfil katsuki’s request      ╱      and with some final parting words to tokoyami and dark shadow,   katsuki feels himself be lifted into izuku’s arms,   giving the blond a chance to focus on rewiring his bracers.

a part of his grenadier bracer design was specifically for a situation like this.     the cooling system he’d gotten installed on them also could act as a remote detonator if he rewired it just enough to reverse the effects      ⸺      and,   seeing as he connected it with the heating in his gloves,   he could repurpose the gloves to intensify the effect.     the best part was that there was a  very  large amount of sweat in both of the bracers to ensure that the blast would likely level the entire building      ╱      granted that everyone would make it out before it happens.     the heating could only be prolonged for so long.

❝    aight,   i got ‘em ready t’go.    ❞     katsuki coughs,   and the blood splatters down his mouth and over his chest,   mixing with the red stain that was already there.     ❝    call in ‘n tell everyone to get clear of th’buildin’.     ‘specially the civilians.     ‘s not gonna be pretty.    ❞

they reach what they  assume  is the power source of the building,   and katsuki struggles his way out of izuku’s arms to get his bracers in the right positions      ⸺      he spares a glance back to make sure that the other is calling it in,   telling the others to get as far from the building as they possibly can,   and he can almost hear the uproarious chatter of questions upon questions on bakugou’s current state.

he can see izuku’s inability to answer.     the blond takes a moment,   between coughs and hacks and wheezes,   to tune back into the comms.

❝    i’m fine.     stop fuckin’ asking.    ❞     another lie.     crimson glances into emerald and sees the look of betrayal behind them,   the sense of knowing.     ❝    we’re ⸺     we’re gonna be out before y’know it.     just gonna level this place to the fuckin’  ground.    ❞

the comms fall silent as katsuki tries to refocus on his placing of the bracers,   coughing as he fixes one to the closest power source and begins the warming process.     when he struggles,   stumbles,   trips  as he’s moving his other bracer to a different location,   he feels izuku wedge himself into the blond’s side to hold him up      ╱      to be something to lean on.     katsuki can’t help but think of how grateful he is for izuku being there.     the pain was starting to truly seep into his bones now,   though,   even as the blond finally leans to set his other bracer,   stumbling forward and letting izuku catch him before he falls.

he was going to slow izuku down,   getting out of here.     he recognises this as he makes sure the second bracer starts heating up too      ⸺      it would take a few minutes before they detonate and bring everything down,   but each second was going to be valuable.

the blond sits himself down next to the second bracer and winces,   coughs again,   shutting his eyes when izuku tells him he  needs  to get up      ╱      so he can carry the other hero to safety before the whole building would fall,   so he could keep going and they could get to the hospital and get him treated.     he’s so ⸺     tired.     everything hurts.     no amount of begging from the freckled hero warrants any movement from katsuki,   besides a slight shift to get more comfortable      ╱      he wheezes out a pained  yelp  when izuku tries to lift him up anyway.

❝    izuku,   we don’t got time fer this.    ❞     he feels izuku try again,   more gently,   but the wounds make it hurt and it sends more blood up the oesophagus      ╱      it takes everything the blond has to pull izuku down instead.     ❝    i’m just gonna slow you th’hell down,   ‘n let’s be fuckin’ honest,  i ain’t gonna …     i’m  not  makin’ it out th’door.    ❞

it’s not what either of them want to hear.     it’s not what either of them want to  admit,   not even to each other      ╱      because who were they if the other weren’t here ?

but katsuki has tested his luck one too many times,   and he knows that  this  was going to be the final straw,   the ultimate sacrifice.     he can already imagine how izuku might carry it with him after all is said and done      ⸺      it was izuku’s request.     his invitation.     his trust in the blond that led them to this moment,   where katsuki lay dying and izuku was powerless to stop it,   even with the strength of all might.

he doesn’t have the time to tell izuku that it  isn’t  his fault.     he wanted to be here,   he accepted the request,   he put himself in danger’s way so that he might fulfil a promise he made to himself some time ago.     he doesn’t have the time to explain that.     the time he has is borrowed,   prolonged only by his sheer will to ensure izuku make it out before the bracers detonated,   bringing down the whole building with him in the centre of it      ╱      but izuku lingers,   and katsuki’s strength is fading fast.     (  you knew this was coming,   right ?     when i said that i’d make it ?     you had to have known i was lying.  )

❝    this ain’t yer fault,   aight ?     ‘s always gonna happen.     y’ever wonder why th’hell i always come ‘n …     save yer ass from whatever ?    ❞     because i made a promise.     i’m not breaking it now.     ❝    the world still needs  deku,   that’s why.     y’need t’be here,   carryin’ on yer stupid legacy of all might,   ‘cause everyone needs you more than me.     and ⸺     hah,   maybe i still felt like i  owed  ya,   this whole ...     whole time.    ❞

it still weighs on katsuki,   sometimes.     the comments he made when they were young and he was foolish.     it didn’t matter  how  much he didn’t mean it      ╱      izuku never deserved it,   and it took too long for him to turn that around.     atonement was a bitch like that.

his body feels clammy,   colder,   and his breathing feels shallow.     the world spins and it takes all his remaining strength to keep his eyes open to look at the freckled hero,   the same one fretting over the blond and  trying  to make things right      ⸺      insisting that he could still make it through this,   if he’d just let izuku carry him.     when katsuki slowly shakes his head as a response,   it’s the next words that strike him deeper than the pain searing from his lung,   the bitter taste of blood on his lips :

please  don’t  go.

he doesn’t  want  to go.    no,   katsuki never wanted his life to be this short-lived,   cut short all because of instinct defying his common sense      ╱      he has experienced death before,   and he tried to make a promise to his parents that he wouldn’t put himself in such peril again,   if only for their sakes.     yet here he was      ⸺      on the brink of death,   ready to go out in a literal blaze of glory,   all for the sake of something he’s  never  going to witness.     how bittersweet that this final action of his would have an impact he won’t even see.

katsuki ruffles through his pocket and manages to grab out the all might card they’d both gotten when they were kids      ⸺      it had seen  much  better days,   but there was clear evidence of restoration since the second war,   carefully cleaned but still stained.     he swears under his breath when he realises he would leave bloodied fingerprints on it anyway      ╱      but he manages to press it into izuku,   coughing.

❝    get outta here ‘n leave me.     ‘kay ?     i’m gonna be ...     dead weight soon ‘nough,   ‘n y’need all yer strength t’get ⸺     t’get outta here ‘n away from th’blast.    ❞     (  don’t go crying for me now,   you idiot.     this was always how it was gonna end.  )     katsuki slowly moves his hand away from izuku and leans back,   crimson gaze falling to the bracer next to him,   the very same hand pressing against it to see the progress.     getting warmer.     if izuku prolongs his leaving any longer ...     ❝    at least ⸺     hah,   at least y’can tell ‘em that  dynamight  saved the fuckin’ day,   yeah ?     ‘s what this ...     this fuckin’ place deserves.    ❞

he can kind of tell izuku  hated  that :     how he was joking about it.     making a spectacle of his impending death.     katsuki finally shuts his eyes so he doesn’t see the look on the other when he lets go of the stubborn grasp on life he had.

❝    look,   i’m gonna be right behind ya,   izuku.     get goin’.    ❞

he wasn’t.     katsuki can’t even move his legs or arms now,   lethargic and tired and robbed of  all  strength he had      ⸺      but as he listens to the thrum of one for all,   as he hears the footsteps vanish into the distance,   he could let himself rest.     he had fulfilled that age-old promise he made to himself again      ╱      and this time,   it wasn’t just for izuku.     there were others at stake too.     they would all be  safe  from the absolute hell of this place.

katsuki almost expects to live long enough to feel the heat of the explosion,   but when his eyes open to blinding light,   he finds himself in a wide and never-ending field with a cliffside right behind him.     the sun is shining down and warming every part of his body.     it almost feels  cleansing,   a wash of resounding light      ╱      the air is crisp and cool,   full of sea salt,   and there is the distant crash of waves in the distance,   wisps of spring particles carrying themselves through the sea air.     he almost feels small like this.     crimson eyes stare at the new environment with childlike wonder as he slowly paces forward,   hands running through the wildflowers as he looks for an unknown destination.

how  peaceful  it was,   to be here,   in a place so unknown.     nothing hurts and all feels absolved in his soul.     there is a moment where he glances over the edge of the cliff,   wondering if anyone would follow      ⸺      but when nobody does,   there is relief.

after all,   he is at peace,   and everyone is safe.     izuku  was safe.     and,   all going well,   he hopes to meet him here someday     ╱      to learn of the legacy that he’ll miss.

[daedalmirage]

POST-TRIAL 3.1 | “ GNAWING AT THE WOOL OVER MY EYES ! ” | SIR GAWAIN | 🚒 |

Keizo -- not Gawain -- had had a lot of time, the year before he was marked.

Quite a lot of it was spent moping. More of it was spent killing beers with Nakano, staring at a ceiling. Much more was spent waiting near a phone, hoping for a call from one -- but receiving another.

And being grateful.

And yet, not an insignificant amount of time had been spent thinking about the concept of the crab bucket.

The idea -- as Nakano had put it -- is that crabs can be stored in a bucket, while fishing. You can pile the crabs up to the top without worrying, because if one crab tries to make an escape -- away from certain death-- His doomed brethren, sensing his freedom, will use their awful claws to drag him down back with them. Together forever. Wallowing in shallow water until they're all killed.

At the time, he had scoffed.

But now, trapped -- watching one, two of them jump down his throat -- and then too many vote without thinking; voting to kill a woman who did nothing not in their name; voting to kill a woman who was fulfilling a duty; voting to kill a woman who would have put herself on the sword to save any of them--

Just as they had voted for him, the first time it counted. Just as they had always been willing to jump to the easiest conclusion, to sacrifice the people they believed, in their hearts, were lesser than they were.

Manako had killed, so she had to die. They had not killed -- so they were innocent, and deserved to live. They deserved to live because they wanted to live. They were entitled to it.

And if they didn't get to live, they would drag any other person down with them to their own watery grave.

His finger is tracing the mark.

(He almost hopes -- in his own crab heart -- that Daisy never tells them the cure. But he knows that's not right.)

(He's just angry. Patronized by sniveling pups, desperate to retain their own hides -- and dressing that up as a moral stageplay. Twisting themselves in knots to appear better than him, all to justify keeping themselves as safe as possible, until they're dressed up for the slaughter.)

(Because they had voted for him, when they thought he could die. And they're desperate to keep the punishments off of themselves. Because they don't deserve it.)

(As if they were not all culpable.)

(The crabs, desperately clawing at each other -- acting as if their bucket wasn't being dragged to the flame to cook them alive.)

It was Keizo -- not Gawain -- who appraised Banri and Jesse with an unwavering eye. Speaking nothing. His chin jutted -- his smile twitching, every so often, with disgust.

And it was Keizo -- not Gawain -- who didn't react to Manako, or Summer, or Daisy -- because at that point, their fate was sealed by people who were desperate for an answer that would keep them wrapped in a blanket, swaddled until someone came to kill them. And then they would die -- their faces one of shock.

And it was Keizo -- not Gawain -- who sighs when he sees the vote tallied.

...

(But, well.)

(Such was their lot, here.)

And eventually... he tries....

A smile.

"...Well. Shoulda known better than t'full circle it, Rayster. Shoulda just voted f'myself again, yeah...?"

.....

And he moves without thinking -- while Daisy's talking. A roundabout way.

His hand clasps Ray's shoulder. With love. With affection. And his voice is low to her, before she shakes her head.

And he makes his way to Daisy -- before he--

Quickly--

In their usual way.

"C'mere."

And he scoops her up from over her chair -- Kei, this time, rather than Keizo -- pulling her into a bridal carry -- too tight.

Before he sits back down, still holding Daisy. Maybe a whisper near her -- too low for even Stormy to hear.

...For a time.

Before he looks to Manako -- his eyes soft.

"I'm real sorry, Manako-san. I... tried. An' -- seems like... some of us played t'the tune, too... just wish it had been more.  But I'm real grateful, t'y'all who followed my lead, there...."

.... And his eyes go to Tezuka, to Franz, to Benkei.

"...As f'the rest of you... I ain't gonna pretend I understand y'positions. But I hope y'all can live with your choices. My conscious is clear."

(Crabs and cowards, all of them.)

(But him too, he supposes.)

[spacedace]

So because I’ve ended up with so many ATLA AUs/fic ideas (more than I’ll probably ever reasonably be able to write) I’m just gonna go ahead and drop some of them here for anyone who might be interested in using the ideas. What’s listed below isn’t all of my AU ideas, just some of the ones that I like but don’t know if I’ll ever get to actually writing. I’ll probably end up making more of these fic idea/writing prompts as I end up coming up with more lol

Living Shrine AU: From an early age Zuko is trained in a secretive sect of Fire Nation Spiritualists that serve the Fire Lord. The Spiritualists gain powers/abilities through binding themselves to willing Spirits in exchange for worship and servitude.

Instead of binding himself to a minor spirit like he’s supposed to, Zuko ends up forming a bond with the Blue Spirit. When the Agni Kai happens, the Blue Spirit goes on a rampage, nearly kills Ozai and scares the shit out of everyone in attendance, resulting in Zuko having to go on the run at 13.

Lone Dragon and (Air Bison) Cub AU: An AU that starts with Zuko leaving Iroh behind in Zuko Alone where instead of the Earth Kingdom town, Zuko stumbles upon a small group of strange refugees seeking a new life. After spending some time with them Zuko realizes that they’re actually some of the last living Air Nomads in the world.

One thing leads to another and Zuko helps them find a safe place to stay (trading his ability to Fire Bend to a Spirit in order to make sure), only for one of the Air Nomads - one of the small handful of Air Benders in the group - to ask him to help them hunt the Avatar down so they can become an Air Bending Master themself.

Which means Zuko is, once again, hunting Aang, only this time so he can yeet another Air Bender at him and then die in a ditch (Zuko is both very dramatic and making a little bit more of an emotional/mental wreck than normal in this AU). Everyone is very confused by the whole thing.

Prison Prince AU: In which Zuko, still very injured and not at all recovered from the Agni Kai and not even officially banished yet, storms the docks when the 41st Division is to be deployed, very publicly screams at several generals about how he refuses to let them sacrifice his people for no good reason, maybe causes a riot and ends up in Boiling Rock at age 13.

Instead of being murdered immediately like Ozai expects, Zuko ends up flourishing. The prisoners love him. The guards love him. Everyone is desperate to keep him safe and teach him anything and everything they can to keep him alive, unintentionally turning him into a nightmare of a skill monkey.

By the time Zuko is 16 he’s broken out of (and into, and out of again) every prison in the Fire Nation and half of the ones in the Earth Kingdom to boot, doing whatever he can to help his people wherever he ends up along the way.

Now if someone could explain to him this whole new fashion fad where people keep smearing red paint over their left eyes that’d be great. Maybe he’ll ask that Water Tribe kid what the deal is after they get done breaking all these people out of Boiling Rock (again, he’s really ruining this place’s reputation.)

Azula says “Fuck the Fire Lord” AU: After taking Ba Sing Se, instead of getting Zuko to help her attack Aang (and the Gaang at large) Azula instead convinces Zuko to stay with her and help her rule over Ba Sing Se/use the resources the city offers in order to fight against Ozai.

Things get confusing for the war after that, and even more so when Zuko decides he doesn’t want to just hide behind Ba Sing Se’s walls and sneaks out to hunt down Aang (again) and teach him Fire Bending. He may have forgotten to tell Azula of his plan. Azula may, due to some faulty information, believe that her brother has been kidnapped by the Avatar to force her hand into helping fight the Fire Nation. Things get a bit chaotic.

[nevermindirah]

Yitzhak!

is a character! who Gregadiah What-Is-Math Rucka gave us almost no information about!

I've gone through Tales Through Time #6: The Bear and #1: My Mother's Axe with several magnifying glasses and done a lot of googling and taken my copy of the Tanakh off my shelf for the first time since (well, since the last time I needed to read Torah for TOG reasons, which I think was Booker Passover headcanons) and here's the best I can come up with.

In The Bear we meet someone who goes by the name Isaac Blue:

Read on for a lot of comic panel analysis and historical research and Jewish flailing!

So what do we know about this Isaac Blue person?

He's Lorge, he's got curly hair, he's basically a taller version of Joe as drawn by Leandro Fernández (ie an antisemitic stereotype why the fuck did they approve this character design?? and then why did they double down and copy-paste it to Yitzhak??):

He's got a mezuzah on the doorpost of his house in Alaska!

I screamed about the mezuzah way back in January in this post where I (very reasonably) assumed this character was Joe and spun myself a tale about how Booker is still Joe's brother so the mezuzah stays up even though Booker isn't welcome in that house for a century. Bottom line: the mezuzah is a tradition with origins in the commandment from Deuteronomy 6:9 to "write the words of G-d on the gates and doorposts of your house" and evolved over the course of the Rabbinic period into the modern mezuzah we see here.

I did unnecessary levels of google image search to glean absolutely no useful information about Yitzhak’s origins from this panel:

I've decided the variant cover of TTT 6 is Yitzhak because of a panel in My Mother’s Axe, shown here, and what's likely an unnecessarily deep reading of Exodus, discussed further down:

The person at the right of the bottom panel is wearing the same clothes as in the TTT 6 variant cover and has the same shoulder-length curly hair and hairy forearms.

Left to right, the people in this panel are Lykon (I'll never get used to him being white in the comics), Andy, Noriko (I think? why doesn't Andy mention her by name here?), and Yitzhak. Andy's robe has a stereotypically Greek design on the sleeve cuff, and I had to stop myself 10 minutes into a Wikipedia rabbit hole because Gregorforth doesn't think that deep about this shit. The solid clues as to timeline that we get in this panel are:

Andy's iron axe

the presence of Lykon, who Andy first met in 331 BCE

So all we know is that Yitzhak is an immortal, he was a contemporary of Lykon, and he's Jewish.

Isaac is the most common Anglicization of Yitzhak (which in turn is the most common Anglophone transliteration of יִצְחָק‎), and Greg always uses the (transliterated) Hebrew when he refers to this character. Yitzhak is the long-awaited child of Abraham and Sarah in Genesis, the child who G-d commanded Abraham to sacrifice but spared at the last minute. I see what you did there, Gregory.

Why Isaac Blue? This is where I pulled out my Tanakh. According to the New JPS translation, blue is the first of three colors of yarn listed in Exodus 35:6 among the gifts requested of the Israelites to construct the priestly garments for the Tabernacle and later the Temple. Then in Numbers 15:38 the Israelites are commanded to "make themselves fringes on the corners of their garments throughout the ages; let them attach a cord of blue to the fringe at each corner."

And now for sandbox timelines party! Gregadiah gave us ALMOST NOTHING to go on, so I'm gonna make my own fun.

I, like many modern Jews, think the stories in the Tanakh are foundational mythology that are valuable because of how they've shaped our people but that contain some fucked-up shit and either way aren't meant to be a record of historical facts. Modern scholarship generally agrees that the community we now call Jews emerged as a distinct group of Canaanites sometime in the late Bronze Age (cw this video's host says the Name of G-d aloud despite being a religious studies scholar who knows that is not a name anyone but the Temple priests are allowed to say). The first non-Biblical written record of the people Israel is from an Egyptian source c. 1200 BCE, and the Biblical kingdom of David and Solomon was probably an exaggeration of whatever really happened during the Bronze Age Collapse. We start getting into historical-fact territory a few centuries into the Iron Age:

588 BCE Solomon's Temple destroyed, Babylonian exile begins

538 BCE Cyrus of Persia allows Jews to return to Jerusalem

515 BCE Second Temple construction complete

332 BCE Alexander the Great At Something I Guess conquered Judea, beginning the Hellenistic period of Jewish history — 331 BCE Andy & Lykon find each other

167 BCE another jerkface Greek king desecrated the Temple and basically outlawed Judaism

164 BCE recapture of Jerusalem and Temple rededication during the Maccabean Revolt

70 CE destruction of the Second Temple by the Romans, beginning of the Rabbinic period of Jewish history that we're still in now

What if... and hear me out... what if immortals come in pairs, and the pairs are:

Andy & Quynh

Joe & Nicky

Booker & Nile

LYKON & YITZHAK

What if Yitzhak was a priest of the Second Temple? What if he and Lykon killed each other just like Joe and Nicky would in the same city around 1300 years later, but instead of enemies-to-lovers speedrun with an absurdly long happily-ever-after, when Lykon died permanently Yitzhak decided to separate from Andy and Noriko and become the hermit we later see in Alaska?

We don't know how old Yitzhak is compared to the others, only that he was a contemporary of Lykon at a time when Andy was using an Iron Age version of her mother's axe. Other plausible origins for him:

a Jew of the early Rabbinic period, maybe a child or grandchild of people who were still alive before the Second Temple was destroyed

a Judean of the Second Temple era under the Romans or Greeks or Persians, maybe a priest, maybe not

an exilee in Babylon, maybe of the generation who got to return, maybe of the generation who was exiled (he doesn't look like he was 50 at his first death but who knows, he could've been mortal for both)

an Israelite of the Kingdoms of Israel and Judah, maybe a priest of Solomon's Temple or again maybe not

an Israelite wandering in the desert with Moses

THEE Yitzhak, ben Avraham v'Sarah, our patriarch who was brought up for sacrifice and then spared, and then spared again, and then spared again, and again, and again...

or! he could also be a Canaanite or other Levantine who predates the people Israel, who at some point in his very long life chose to join our mixed multitude, who like Andromache before him (and like Avram and Sarai would in this case do after him) took a new name to reflect the magnitude of influence this people has had on him

Why do I keep saying Yitzhak might have been a priest? It's thanks to the one detail in the artwork I could plausibly connect to solid research without getting a PhD real quick. Take a look at the gorgeous detail on the opening of his robe in the TTT 6 cover. He's dressed in rags, holes and dirt everywhere, rough stitches probably from hasty repair work — except for the neck opening. Compare that to this description from Exodus 39:23 of the construction of the priestly garments for the Tabernacle: "The opening of the robe, in the middle of it, was like the opening of a coat of mail, with a binding around the opening, so that it would not tear."

The next verses describe the intricate designs for the hem of the priestly garment. Yitzhak's ragged garment looks like the hem was torn off entirely.

Am I overthinking this? Yes I am! You're welcome!

My friend and historical research hero @lady-writes​ is in a Discord server with Gregadiah and asked the man himself some questions about all this. He clearly thinks he's being sneaky?? No shit Yitzhak is Jewish, dude, I want DETAILS!

I will not be giving up my Jewish Booker headcanon, I've put too much thought into it by now, the internalized shame of antisemitism explains Booker's depression too well for me, and it just adds so much richness to Booker/Nile both being children of forced diasporas. Fortunately (for him, not me, bc I'd do it anyway!) Gregothy supports fan headcanons even when they're not in line with his own:

One last thing before I close like 100 research tabs and go back to writing historical fantasy and/or porn! I love that, despite that atrocious caricature of a face design, our canon Jew and our fanon Jew are both Lorge and Soft and Kind, flying the face of the antisemitic stereotype of Ashkenazi Jewish men as small and weak, but also not falling into the New Jew / Muscle Jew stereotype that Zionism created. (I am trying SO HARD not to talk about Israel/Palestine for once ughhhhhhhhhh) Anyway here's a (US-centric but very good) primer on both these stereotypes of Jewish masculinity. Is this why I'm forever projecting my transmasc diasporist feels onto Jewish Booker the service sub? 🤷🏻‍♂️

I’ll reblog a second version of this with full image descriptions so that there’s a version accessible for folks who need IDs as well as a version accessible for folks who get overwhelmed by walls of text.

[pigeonp0st]

Reader jumped off the cliff in Vormir instead of Natasha 😈

Natasha Romanoff x Reader #8

Words: 2,826

Warnings: Reader dies...angst

Notes:

Thanks you for requesting ;) and thanks to @gaytrashgoblin for proofreading. I had fun with this one...I’ve been having fun writing a lot lately.

————

There’s something sick and twisted about the world's constant need to fail the good people in it. Weirdly enough, that’s the first thought you have when Wanda turns into dust in your arms.

Then, the next;

“We failed.”

———

When Natasha finds you crouched by Visions body and staring lifelessly at, it she pounces on you, wrapping her arms around you more tightly than she ever has before and repeating, over and over again, “thank god.”

She’s sobbing into your shoulder with her relief, and your arms are hovering over her back, frozen. Frozen because you’re in shock, frozen because you don’t feel like you’re you. You feel like you're watching someone else’s life, because the Avengers don’t fail. They can’t fail. They...failed?

They failed, you failed, and too many are gone now. Too many are gone but Natasha isn’t, so you sag into her arms and you clutch onto her as tightly as she’s holding on to you, and revel in the fact that you lost everything, but you still have everything. You have Natasha.

It should be enough...but somehow it isn’t. Somewhere along the way of reluctantly becoming an Avenger you started to want more, more than just her, and you curse yourself now for loving these idiots who risk themselves so much. These idiots who mean too much.

———

Natasha is clingy after the...blip (that’s what people have come to call it). She’s clingy, and angry, and devastated, and you push aside everything you're feeling and do everything you can to take care of her for five years, because it’s much easier to analyze and argue about Natasha’s self deprecating habits than to sit down for a moment and realize that you’re not okay.

It’s easier to pull Natasha in at night when she wakes up from one of too many nightmares and tell her that you’re there, that you’ll always be there, when you’re not allowing yourself to think about how much you wish you disappeared with the rest of them.

It’s easier to yell at Natasha for her drinking than to talk about why some days you’re unable to get a drop of sleep, and other days all you do is sleep.

It’s easier to pretend Natasha’s nightmares are what keeps you up at night, and not the way your skin crawls at the possibility of closing your eyes for a second and not seeing her there.

It’s easier to stand alone in front of the doorway of Wanda’s room, replaying the moment she disappeared over and over again, then to do it with Natasha next to you worrying about whether or not she’s letting you down.

——

Time Travel. Getting the infinity stones before Thanos can get his hands on them.

Hope. Hope for the first time in a long time. You look over at Natasha and notice the spark that's in her eyes, the spark that’s been missing for five years, and feel your own type of hope too.

Whatever happens, you’re going to make sure everyone comes back, but more than that you’re going to make sure Natasha gets to see it.

——

You and Natasha are assigned to get the soul stone in Vomir.

The whole trip up the mountain you feel this unexplainable dread and you don’t know why. You don’t know why until;

“In order to take the stone you must lose that which you love. An everlasting exchange. A soul for a soul.”

Natasha is silent and tense as she takes this information in. You begin forming your plan.

——

“We both know what needs to happen here,” Natasha sighs, finally standing up and deciding to stop putting off the inevitable. You glance up at her, not moving an inch other than to tighten your grip on your gun.

You have a plan. A plan that to you seems full proof, but if Natasha goes psycho before you can manage to even say something then you’ll just have to shoot her.

“If you jump off that cliff I'm jumping after you. Titanic style, Nat. Don’t test me,” you pause, narrowing your eyes at the way her own hand tightens on her gun, “don’t even think about trying to physically stop me from jumping because there’s other ways people can die, ways you can’t stop me from when you aren’t here. The Avengers won’t get the stone if I’m given it.”

Natasha tenses again, her jaw locking and her eyes harder and more angry than they’ve ever been looking at you. You know why, it’s totally justifiable, but it still hurts. “Everyone doesn’t come back if we don’t get that stone.”

“Yep.”

“Y/N!” Natasha yells, her voice echoing all around you. “This isn’t a fucking joke, okay? We both know you wouldn’t do that.” Natasha says that but there’s this small barely noticeable uncertainty in her eyes, and it’s all you need.

Natasha won’t jump if there’s even a slightest chance that you’d jump after her. If there was even a slightest chance that you’d fuck up everything everyone has been fighting for, and you wouldn’t—you couldn’t—you think most of her knows that...but nothing in life is certain, and so much uncertainty in something so integral to the mission is too big of a risk.

“You’re...this is your plan, huh?” Natasha says quietly after a moment, wheels visibly turning in her head. “And if I said I'd do the same, if I said I'd jump after you if you didn’t let me do this?” She asks, curious.

You had enough time to think about that too. “You aren’t willing to take the risk that I’m telling the truth when I say I'll jump too. I’m willing to take the risk that you aren’t.”

There’s a long pause where Natasha says nothing, and during it you start to wonder if you read her all wrong. You start to wonder if this is a risk Natasha would take, just to make sure you stay alive, but then Natasha grabs you by the collar of your shirt and pushes you off the log you were sitting on and straight to the ground and you think you’re screwed.

Your instincts have you pointing your gun at her thigh and tightening your grip on the trigger, heart beating a mile a minute, but before you can pull it you feel a tear fall on your cheek.

Natasha’s crying, you realize, heart in your throat. “I’m sorry,” you want to say, “I’m sorry, Natasha. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry for not being strong enough the first fight, I’m sorry for not being strong enough for the five years after, I’m sorry for not being strong enough now—strong enough to let you die. I’m sorry for wanting you to live through another death because I’m too weak to do it myself.”

But all you manage to get out is a broken, “Nat,” and you think she understands anyways. You think she understands because she shakes her head roughly and slumps down on you, burying her face in your neck and breathing you in.

“I’m sorry I can’t choose you over the world,” Natasha whispers, voice breaking. And then, angrily; “how dare you?” She asks, pulling away to glare at you so brokenly you start to feel guilt—so brokenly that you're selfishly glad you won’t have to be there for the aftermath of how you destroy Natasha. “How- how could you make me choose when you know…”

She doesn’t finish, just sobs and shakes her head, but you know. You know what she was going to say.

How dare you make her have to choose the world, when you know she wants to choose you.

It’s an admission of defeat that doesn’t leave you feeling victorious.

“You’ve been an idiot before, I can’t risk you being an idiot again. They need that stone,” Natasha gets out between sobs, wanting to explain because she needs you to understand. You already do though. You already do.

“I get it baby. I’ve been too unpredictable,” you laugh but it’s humorless and Natasha only shakes harder. “I’m sorry for all the missions I've sabotaged for you.”

How does one do this, you wonder. How does one just walk off a cliff to save the world, to save the women they love, with the women they love watching. How does one decide when they’ve said all the goodbyes they need to say and are ready, when you don’t think you could ever be done talking to Natasha, when you don’t think you’ll ever be ready to leave her if you’re leaving her alone.

You think you're done and that the world can’t hurt you anymore, but then it hurts you more, and how can you leave Natasha in a world like this one if you’re incapable of showing her it can get better too. If you’re incapable of showing her that there’s beauty in life too.

“Don’t hate people,” you ask quietly, “don’t hate people, or the world, because you had to sacrifice me for it. The world is beautiful, Nat. The world is beautiful,” and as you say it you think back on five years where you were incapable of seeing it and you’re left to regret it all.

That’s the irony of life. You realize things and you see them as they are when it’s too late.

“There’s poetry in life. There’s meaning in everything. Look for it when I'm gone, okay?” You beg, closing your eyes and feeling this. Feeling Natasha on top of you, shaking but there, feeling the breeze, feeling the ground beneath you, feeling the coldness, and the warmth, and everything in between, feeling the beat of your heart, and the breaths you take. Feeling the love. The love that’s there when everything else becomes not good enough.

“Look at the sun when you want to feel me, and listen to the rain when you want to hear me. Listen to the others, you aren’t alone even when I'm not there.”

“Stop,” Natasha pleads breathlessly, squeezing you so tightly you’d be worried about the bruise it’s going to leave later if there was a later for you. “Stop talking. Stop it—stop. You can’t—you can’t. It’s unfair. It’s unfair.”

You nod, opening your eyes again and gently nudging a shattered and broken Natasha off of you. “I was done anyways,” you tell her with a smile, glancing at the cliff you’ll be jumping from. Natasha’s hand holds onto your wrist tightly when she looks at the cliff too.

Her eyes are more expressive than they’ve ever been right now, and you can see how close she is to saying ‘fuck it’ and jumping instead. You can see it in how tense she is, like she’s physically fighting herself to stay, you can see it in the way her breath quickens, the way her eyes narrow like she’s trying to think of another way, and you decide that it’s time to go before she decides she’s willing to risk.

“Close your eyes and count to ten.”

Natasha’s eyes snap back towards you. “I love you,” she says quickly, “I love you so much,” and then she’s kissing you, and pulling back much too quickly , and you're shooting her in the thigh, shooting her because she had this look. This terrifying look on her face that was entirely desperate, crazed, and determined. She was heart over head, when you needed the opposite.

You run towards the edge of the cliff as soon as the gunshot rings out because Natasha is an immovable object and when she wants something a bullet in her leg isn’t going to stop her.

“You’re a real asshole Nat!” You growl out, dodging a grappling hook.

Natasha doesn’t have a lot of long distance weapons on her other than the grappling hook and her gun, and she’s not fast enough to get to you with an injured leg, that’s what you think until she shoots some weird electrocuting web thing at you.

It only takes you out for a couple of seconds, but she still manages to catch up to you in that time.

And now...now you’re scared. Now you’re terrified.

She’s on top of you again, eyes hard and unrelenting as she pushes you into the ground and tries to get up again. You prevent her by wrapping your legs around her waist.

“Natasha! What about Clint’s family?! What about Wanda? What about Peter, he was just a kid, what about—”

“What about you?!” Nat chokes out roughly, struggling against you. “What about you, Y/N, and what about— what about me?”

“It’s either you lose or I lose,” you say softly, freeing your hand from Natasha’s grasp and finding the knife Tony made for you in its safety sheath. It’s hot enough to cauterize a wound—he made it that way because he said you got injured too often—and you brought it just in case. “And Natasha, I’m too selfish and my ego is too big to be okay with losing.”

“There’s no winner here,” Natasha says a moment before you press your scathing knife against her injury.

The yell she releases then is nothing compared to the earth shattering cry she lets out when you manage to escape from under her and leap over the edge of the cliff with one final look over your shoulder and a smug; “I really hope there isn't a hell.”

The whole way down you think of Natasha’s face before you went over the edge, pleading and so unbearably sad. So unbearably unwilling, and not ready to let you go.

Your final thought before you hit the ground is; “The world was really beautiful because of you, Nat”, and then you only have an instant to wish you could have had time to tell her that.

———-

They bring the people they lost from the snap back, but they don’t bring everyone back.

It’s victory, they all know, but it doesn’t feel like victory. It doesn’t feel like victory because Vision is gone, Gamora is gone, Tony is gone, you’re gone, and none of them will ever be the same again.

It’s victory on the back of sacrifice, so it isn’t good enough. It isn’t good enough to be worth celebrating. They’re all just so tired. Natasha is so tired.

They won, but she doesn’t feel that, all she feels standing there is the phantom touch of your hand on her back, and your lips against her ear, asking her to not hate the world, asking for her to look for the poetry of things—but she thinks that if life is full of poetry, then her life is just one tragic poem.

She still tries though. She opens her eyes back up and tries to think of anything other than the way her heart feels so much heavier than it did with half the world gone.

When she looks up at the sky, the clouds and smoke part just a bit and she gets washed in the glow of the sun.

Look at the sun when you want to feel me.

Natasha’s breath catches in her throat, full of too much emotion, and her legs give out from under her, because suddenly the world is beautiful. Suddenly you’re there, and the world is full of poetry too, because there has always been poetry in the way that you have always been there for her when she needed you the most.

“Thank you,” Nat whispers, clutching a hand over her heart and trying to find the words to communicate with you that she needs you forever. That she needs you back. Trying to find the words to say that the sun and rain aren’t enough, but knowing that you realistically couldn’t hear her anyways.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t protect us from the ugly of the world. I’m sorry I let us live in it for too long,” Natasha thinks, “I’m sorry it was all I could see when you were right there showing me the beautiful.”

———

Wanda is the one to find Natasha after people start wondering where she is. She finds her with her face pressed into the dirt, and oddly enough—the lowering sun peaking through the clouds only touching her.

When she wakes her up Natasha’s eyes are frantic and scared until she looks up in the sky and sees the sun still there. Still on her somehow.

“Are you okay?” Wanda forces herself to ask, even though she knows the answer.

Surprisingly, Natasha nods and laughs, exhausted and delirious. “As long as the sun is still up.”

It’s the closest thing she’s got to you, Natasha doesn’t say.

It’s the only warmth she thinks she’s going to feel for a long while.

It’s the only thing she can find beautiful in the world anymore, even as she tries to look harder for other things like you asked.

It’s the only thing she feels, and the only thing she wants to feel anymore. It’s the only thing she has.

[noaltbruh]

I hope this follows the rules! But is it okay if I request a scenario where Giorno has a nightmare of turning into Diavolo and S/O comforts him when he wakes up?

My first request in so long, what an honor!

You're surely a fan of this scenario, I've seen you requesting it quite a lot of times.

Either way, let's get into it!

Esci dalla mia testa

06/04/2004

Midnight had just struck, it had already been three years.

Three years since Giovanna had become the new Don of Passione, and since the former had been punished for his actions.

But in reality, time had lost meaning to the young boy years ago. Everything he did, it felt so...Mechanic, so frivolous, simply keeping track of the days in order not to forget an important reunion.

He buried himself under thousands of piles of work, which only seemed to grow bigger and bigger with every day that passed. This was supposed to be his dream, his greatest goal, and he had reached it at such a young age.

But then...Why did he feel so empty?

He was supposed to be happy, after all the sacrifices that had been made to arrive so far, he had to be grateful for everything that's been given to him.

But he couldn't be, because those sacrifices were not his own, because innocent lives had been taken away, because he had come.

He truly was no different than the man whom he had condemned to suffer for all eternity. But he had to clinch his teeth, and keep on going with his head high, for the few people that were still by his side. Most importantly, for his partner.

As everyone around him had found a significant other, pressured by his best friend, he had decided to reluctantly indulge in this so called 'romance'.

And when you two finally met, he felt like a tiny fickle of faith had risen inside of his heart again.

You listened to him, to his struggles, to his doubts, to each one of his complaints like the were the only worries in the world. He failed to express how much you meant to him, after those...'Accidents', he had become even more close-up about his feelings.

You were very well aware of his workaholic tendencies, as most nights, you were the one to ask him to put down all the documents and get some rest

And this...Was one of those.

As you rapidly fell into a deep sleep, exhausted from your own day, you felt a soft hand gently caressing your forehead. You were so warm and comforting, like a puppy, the only one able to give him hope in this twisted world.

But sadly, your presence could not magically make all his guilt and insecurities go away, and he had accepted that.

After contemplating your dreaming figure for a minute, he slowly closed his eyes, wishing to escape, just for a short while, from all those crushing responsibilities and expectations.

His consciousness started to slip away, he felt ready to conclude another day. Until, he heard whispering. Weak, confused, peculiar sounds, he could not understand a word of what those voices were trying to tell him, they were too far from the boy.

But they wouldn't stop. Delicate, constant and unbearable like the sound of a drip of water falling into a sink. They were playing with the Don's patience, a sleeping lion that should not disturbed, unless you wanted to be torn to pieces.

His mind immediately connected the situation to a possible Stand attack, nothing out of his normality, per se, but he was not concerned for himself. You were still peacefully resting, clinging to your sheets, it was a quite cold night. He wouldn't have let a single soul cause any harm to his darling, she was his only true happiness, his sunshine.

In the moment he stepped outside of the bedroom, what he was faced with sent a frozen shiver down his spine, as he brought his hand to his chest, to control his heartbeat.

There were four doors, floating in absolute darkness. A weak stream of light, that seemed to be originated from nothingness, illuminated each one of them singularly.

The whispering got louder and louder, faint giggles could occasionally be heard. The young one turned around to look at the entrance of this cursed place, the one he had just walked through.

But there was nothing there.

And so, like a captured prey that had nothing left to lose, he ventured himself into the first door, only to be met with a monochromatic version of Fugo. He was breathing heavily, desperately sobbing and all curled up on himself, on the shore of the same place where the rest of the gang had decided to betray Passione.

Giorno was standing on top of the water, unable to move a single inch of his body.

"Look at what you did"

A deep voice murmured in his ear. One he hadn't heard in a long time, one he wished he could have erased from his memories, that infected his mind and was more deadly than the sobbing boy's stand.

Diavolo.

"Me? Fugo chose not to leave, it was his own fault if-"

"If he was abandoned by everyone he loved? Do you have any idea of how selfish it sounds?"

The boy hesitated for a brief moment, staring at those warm tears falling into the canal.

"It was just...A temporary matter, he rejoined Passione, he's doing better now"

"My, it must have surely been fun to prove your loyalty to someone who caused the death of half of the people you cared about, after refusing to participate in his little suicide mission"

The blond's legs started to tremble, mantainig his composure was starting to look impossible.

"They...They didn't die because of me, they sacrificed themselves for a noble cause, for making Italy a better place, they wished it as much as I did"

The man contained his laughter, then he continued.

"Is that so? Why don't say that in their faces then?"

The image of the lonely boy disappeared, together with everything in the room. Giorno was back to that black space, but the door was now missing.

And the next one...Had nothing better reserved for him.

He found himself in the island of Sardegna, the only sound that could be heard were the small waves that met with the coast.

He knew perfectly why he was here. He took a closer look at the seaside, there were some footsteps printed on it. He felt a knot in his stomach at the thought of where they would have brought him.

Abbacchio's lifeless body was laying on top of a rock, surrounded by dead flowers. His entire torso had been torn apart, and yet... His corpse was smiling. A tiny, melancholic smile on his purple lips.

"Do you still have the courage to repeat what you said?"

Diavolo began, in a mocking tone.

"When he became part of the Organization, he was at his lowest, he had nowhere else to go, every path he took brought him nothing but sorrow and disappointment. The only thing that gave him comfort was following Bucciarati...And so, with that excuse, I transformed him in one of minions"

The thought of calling out Gold Experience hit Giorno's mind, but he knew that there was no point of lying to himself. The albino was gone, his soul had left his body long ago.

"I don't need you to tell me just how disgusting you are"

He said, his voice was filled with a suffocated rage, as he knelt over to look closer at his former companion.

"Abbacchio couldn't have cared less about killing me, he came with you because Bucciarati did, because he so desperately wanted to follow him, he felt like scum at the thought of no longer having him in his life"

The boy with emerald eyes felt an hand touching him on his shoulder, but there was no one there, except for himself.

"You exploited his dependence from the man, and used at your advantage, just as I did"

He stopped for a brief moment, enjoying the desperation in the other's eyes.

"But at least, he didn't die under my guidance

And with that, the second room disappeared as well. The boy contemplated whether to remain in that hellish void or to move forward, the image of what was waiting on the other side hurt way too much, his juvenile soul was starting to crush.

But he couldn't remain there, it would have meant giving up to Diavolo's twisted games, seeing him break down was exactly what he was waiting for.

He turned the doorknob, when he felt something humid staining his clothes: there was fresh blood streaming from his lady bug pins. The trail that it formed on the ground invited him to follow its path. He knew he couldn't decline, none of what he wanted seemed to matter in this place.

A metallic railing stood in front of him, his entire pins bled so much to the point of consuming themselves. An horrific scream coming from nowhere and everywhere at the same time echoed through the room, as he directed his gaze to the top of the grey construction.

"What a shame...Oh well, he was the most disposable member of the team anyway"

Narancia's corpse was resting among dozens of spikes, his faded orange bandage slipped from his dark hair, landing right next to Giorno's feet.

"Oh Narancia...So young, so naive, just another victim of this unfair world. That's what you're thinking, isn't that right, Giovanna?"

"This is why people like him should not be involved in this business..."

"Mh? And why is that? Childish minds are the easiest to manipulate"

Ignoring his last statement, the other leaned down to pick up the bandage, but his hand went through it. His body was starting to feel dizzy, like it belonged to somebody else.

"Not answering won't make me go away, the damage has already been done, after all"

"Narancia should have NEVER joined Passione in the first place. He could have gone to school...Have a normal life, but-"

"But he died for your cause before he could. What he said before I activated King Crimson melted my heart a little, how cute...He really trusted you that much to the point of thinking that he would have come out of it alive"

The railing emanated a cracking sound. For a second, he was afraid it would have fallen off, causing him to get impaled as well.

"I took away his chance of living an happy, standard life when he decided to work for me, and you did the same, allowing him to come along with the rest of your team"

The small boy suddenly faded away, together with the rest.

"But at least, he didn't die under my guidance"

At last, there it was: only one room left. Despite how deeply he cared about each one of his former team members, the premonition of what would have come next was more painful than everything he's seen so far altogether.

He sat down, staring at the door from a distance, his eyes emptier than the ones of his old allies. They say that eyes are the window of the soul, and nothing else could have been used to describe his inner turmoil. Nothing but a faded, dull green, testimony of all his battle scars and the survivor guilt that he tried so much to repress.

Perhaps his eternal punishment had arrived: having the chance to confront his inner demons, to move on, to show how fearless he was.

...But never truly grasping the idea of freedom, never facing and accepting what really happened, he was never given the time to. So much had oppressed him all at once, he couldn't keep up with it.

He was a child, a child that had to grow too fast.

But then, someone came out of the door. A bittersweet figment of his imagination, that made his heart stop beating for a second.

The one he hadn't seen in years, the one he had tried to subdue the most, the one that showed him for the first time in his life what love was, stood in front of him. There was no hole in his chest, no sign of blood or wounds, a reassuring smile accompanied his face, as he held out his hand to the grieving kid.

"What are you doing all alone in here? The others are worried for you. Let's not make them wait any longer, shall we?"

Giorno ignored his help, his gaze was stuck on that endless floor. He didn't have the courage to look at the other, his presence alone felt like a sadistic joke.

He didn't look sad, depressed, miserable... He was just...Tired.

He wanted to cry those tears that he had denied in the last three years, he wanted to yell at that illusion to leave him alone, that wasn't the real Bruno, it couldn't be.

But, as he impeded any of this from coming out, something he didn't think he would have felt in a thousand of years struck him.

Bucciarati hugged him.

A tight, comforting hug like one of a mother, that he was waiting for his child to reciprocate. The latter's breathing became heavier and heavier with every moment that passed, as weak laments rapidly turned into audible sobs.

"There's no reason to be sad now, I'm real, you can feel it, can't you?"

"Y-You...You're here...But h-how is it p-possible?"

The brunette chuckled, the sound of his laughter was more comforting than an angel's voice.

"It isn't"

Giovanna's stand penetrated the man's torso, but its arm...It was not Gold Experience's. It had a checkered red and white pattern that extended in its entirety, and it possessed an amount of physical strength which was out of any possible expectations for the creature able to give life.

"Foolish child, I thought you were better than this, I'd lie if I said I wasn't a bit disappointed"

The sound of Bruno's corpse falling to the ground resonated through that empty space, as the last door vanished. A puddle of blood originated from his horrible injury, it was big enough for the boy to see his reflection in.

"You are no better than me under any point of view. We took advantage of his kindness, we used him as a simple pawn for our own gain. The only difference between us, is that I was not manipulating enough to convince him to join my side voluntarily. He was a tool to the both of us, but you were the one who caused his demise"

The mirror that had been created showed two people, but the transparent figure of Diavolo immediately ceased to be visible. The only one left was Giorno, though his reflection seemed to mutate with every second that passed.

His blond curls started to change shape, turning into a fuchsia mess, with dirty green stains on it. His eyes had a killer, maniacal look inside of them, his pupils got smaller in horror. His entire body structure was different. He looked older, more muscular, his clothes, too, were no longer his own.

"Mista loved him, and you killed him"

"Fugo loved him, and you killed him"

"Trish loved him, and you killed him"

"Narancia loved him, and you killed him"

"Abbacchio loved him, and you killed him"

"You loved him, and you killed him"

...

"Giorno? Giorno please, wake up!"

You screamed, your sleep was interrupted by the sound of your boyfriend hyperventilating, as he desperately held you to himself, still trapped in that horrible dream.

You sighed in relief when he abruptly opened his eyes, so swollen and red from all the tears he's shed.

"Another nightmare, uh?"

You asked, gently caressing his back to try and calm him down, he was as vulnerable as a baby that runs to his parents after having a bad dream. Waking up in the middle of the night to comfort him is something you had grown accustomed to, but you had never seen him this shaken up.

He slightly nodded in response, grabbing the top of your pajamas. You put an hand behind his head, making him rest on your chest, and kissed him softly on his forehead.

You could hear him murmuring something, you couldn't tell wherever he was talking to you, or to himself.

"I-I'm sorry...I'm sorry...I'm s-so sorry..."

He repeated like a broken record, you could barely make out what he was trying to say.

"Tesoro, you've done nothing wrong, there's no one you owe your apologizes to"

The boy raised his head slightly, intertwining your fingers with his, he needed to feel sure that this was not another tremendous trick of his mind.

"See? I'm here, you don't have to be afraid. I know that you feel unworthy of my feelings, but there is no one out there that deserves love more than you do. Nobody is perfect, Giorno, you did everything that was in your power to help them"

"But I...I was the one w-who put them in danger in the first place"

"No, you were not. You all shared the same ideals, you saved them from the oppression they were put in"

As you swept those remaining drops away from his face, you could still feel his entire body shaking like a dried leaf in a windy day of autumn.

"N-None of this would have happened if I didn't come along..."

"Exactly, none of them would have known what it meant to be free. I...Understand that the sacrifices that were made are not easy to forget, but blaming yourself like this...Do you really think that's what they would have wanted?"

Not receiving an answer, you laid down once again, still holding him in your arms. You forced a tiny smile, kissing him delicately on his lips, and whispered in his ear that everything would have been okay.

But, in reality...You felt you were trying to reassure yourself as well. This was not something you could have solely resolved through staying by his side, healing from this would have taken a lot of time, but...At least, you could offer some temporary safety, and it seemed to be enough for the time being.

In fact, after some minutes, everything seemed to cease. The boy fell asleep once again, this time with the knowledge that you were there to protect him.

You sighed, praying for your darling to finally find some peace.

[waiting4inspiration]

Love Again (Bjorn x Reader)

Summary: Every nine years, Vikings travel to Uppsala to worship the Gods. After everything that Bjorn’s been through, his wife leaving him and breaking his heart, things start to change when he meets the princess who has many stories behind her name; you. 

Warnings: it’s long and there’s still another part coming, angst, fluff, strong language, dueling, mentions of drinking, Uppsala stuff, I hope you guys enjoy it :))

Word Count: 4,306

A/n: So, this is actually a long, long overdue request from @honestlyya​ and there are quiet a few things that are different from the show. 1) Bjorn and Porunn never had baby Siggy, 2) Aslaug never happened so Ubbe, Hvitserk, Sigurd, and Ivar are all children of Lagertha and they are older than they are at the point in the series when Porunn leaves. This is all part of the request. 

Vikings Masterlist

The last time Bjorn was at Uppsala, he was a child and his sister was still alive. Now, he is a man, with four brothers, and a wife that left him because of her insecurities of the scar on her face. He doesn’t expect his heart to be healed by the Gods over the next nine days. But, perhaps coming here was a good idea. It might give him a chance to forget Porunn, for his heart to heal. 

Many people from different parts of the country come to Uppsala. Sometimes, people from other lands come to celebrate and give sacrifices to the Gods. When Bjorn sees an army-like group arrive, one man carrying a purple banner with a sword and ax crossing each other, only one person catches his eye. The woman leading the army. 

You look behind you as the men and women following you split up to either visit the temple or set up tents for the nights. Now that you have time for yourself, you have to decide what to do with yourself. But when your gaze lands on the temple, a bright smile grows on your face. 

Bjorn hears Ivar walking towards him with those heavy, uneven steps because of the crutch he uses to walk. He stands beside his oldest brother, follows his gaze to find out what or who he’s staring at, only to chuckle when he sees his gaze fixed on you. “You stare at (Y/n) of Forsa.” Ivar’s words make Bjorn’s head snap to him and his eyes grow slightly wide. 

For someone so talked about, Bjorn never thought this is what you’d look like. He never expected someone called The Protector of Forsa, someone whose skills with a blade are told like sagas about the Gods, to capture his attention with just one look. 

He remembers how Porunn caught his attention and how he fell for her the first time he laid eyes on her. The feeling now is almost similar. Except this time, the feeling that draws his eyes to you is stronger than what he felt with his past wife. 

Even though you don’t come from Norway or worship the Gods Bjorn and his people do, you and your people make it important to educate yourselves in the culture of others. Bjorn knows your people speak many languages because of that. And seeing you here in Uppsala only makes Bjorn’s broken heart jump in excitement. Especially when you turn your head and your gaze meets his. 

Two people walk up to you, the King and Queen of Forsa, and you turn to greet them with a bright smile and a hug. Your parents, making you… “The princess of Forsa,” Bjorn finishes his thoughts out loud, making Ivar who still stands beside him chuckle and nod his head. 

On top of the story of being a fierce warrior, you’ve raised your own army to fight in your father’s name. It must have been your army that he saw arriving with you. 

To break his stare, Ivar shoves Bjorn’s shoulder with his and nods to Ragnar and Lagertha nearing you and the King and Queen of Forsa. “Are you going to spend the nine days staring at her and pouting, or are you going to talk to her?” Ivar questions, looking up to him when Bjorn turns his head to look at his young brothers. 

Bjorn sighs, turns his head back to look at you as you greet Ragnar and Lagertha, and bites the inside of his cheek before he starts to walk forward. Unaware that his other three brothers have now joined Ivar to see these events unfold because he keeps his eyes on you, he takes in a deep breath as your head turns to face him. 

“King Hurr, Queen Vealda, this is our oldest son, Bjorn Ironside,” Ragnar states with a proud smile on his face as he holds his hand out to gesture to Bjorn. 

He simply nods his head to your mother and father before looking back at you. “Princess (Y/n). I have heard many stories about you,” Bjorn says, taking your hand in his and bringing up to kiss the back of your knuckles, all while keeping his eyes locked with yours. 

Lagertha notices this, notices the look in his eyes and the lingering hold he has on your hand, only letting go when you smile at him and smile. “About me, or my army?” you ask, slightly tilting your head to the side as he smirks down at you. 

“Why not both?” he responds, making you smile and turn your gaze to your mother who nods her head in approval. “I’d like to hear things from your side,” he mentions, taking a small step forward and making your head turn back to him. 

“It would be my pleasure, Bjorn Ironside,” you reply, turning to start walking away and nodding for him to join you. 

Your parents and his watch you both walk away, the conversation starting lightly between both of you and a smile never leaving your face. Your father turns to Ragnar, pleased to see the two of you getting along right from the beginning. “I have a feeling we shall talk again before leaving Uppsala,” Hurr mentions as he takes his wife’s hand and starts to walk away. 

That night, you told Bjorn all about your travels with your army and the places you’ve been where you’ve learned new languages and cultures. 

Bjorn only met you yesterday and he wants to spend the next day with you. He has his family’s permission, his brothers are more than happy that he’ll be out of their hair, and his parents happy that he’s not moping around still about Porunn. They’re all happy that he’s finding something to keep his mind preoccupied from his past wife. 

Walking around the grove, between those still drunk from the previous night or passed out from the effects of alcohol or other substances, he’s certain he won’t find you among these people. He’s certain he’ll find you either at or still in your tent where he led you last night after your long talk with him. 

He finds you, seated in front of your tent with a sword in front of you and a grinding stone in your hand that you run up and down the blade. There’s a calm look on your face as you focus on the blade in front of you, and it makes him smile to himself. 

“Couldn’t help yourself?” he asks, breaking your focus on your sword and making your gaze lift to him as he steps closer to you. 

Seeing him makes you smile, especially when you remember the previous night. “No, I’m making sure I’m ready for tomorrow,” you mention, placing your sword to the side and standing to your feet. “One of my men has initiated a duel tomorrow and I couldn’t refuse,” you explain, placing your hands on your hips as he comes to stand in front of you. 

He chuckles, nods his head, and glances down to your sword for a moment before looking at you again. “I thought I might ask if you’d like to join me for a walk. To the fjord?” he asks, nodding in the direction away from the temple and in the direction of a cliff that looks over the fjord some use when they arrive in ships. 

Biting your lip, you glance over his shoulder to where he gestures before nodding to your head. He breathes a silent sigh of relief and turns to walk by your side when you walk forward. “I must say, I didn’t expect you to want to spend more time with me after I bored you last night,” you chuckle, folding your hands in front of you and dropping your gaze to the ground. 

“If anything, I couldn’t stop thinking about you last night,” he mentions, his words making your heart skip a beat and your head snap up to him. “It’s been a long time since something like that has happened for me.”

You hum, nod your head as you turn your head back to look in front of you. “You don’t have a wife?” you question, thinking that it might be wrong for him to think about another woman when he has a wife. He looks about the age where he could have one, and you’re sure that women throw themselves at the sons of Ragnar’s feet. 

Hearing him take in a sharp breath, you slowly turn your head up to him and find him staring at his feet with a sorrowful look on his face. Was it the wrong question for you to ask? Are you prying in places you shouldn’t?

He looks down at you, that sad look still on his face, as if he’s just had his heart broken and it makes you stop walking for just a minute. “No. I don’t have a wife,” he states, tearing his gaze away from you again before he starts to walk again. 

You bite your lip, think for a moment if this means that he no longer wishes to be in your presence anymore and if you should turn back. But, after a few steps, he stops and turns his head over his shoulder to look at you. “Tell me about your siblings,” he says, encouraging you to join him again. It makes you smile as you walk forward. 

“Well, I have one very much older brother who married when I was young,” you state as you and he start walking again. “And that’s where it ends. I’m afraid my family isn’t as interesting as yours,” you add with a small laugh. A laugh that makes Bjorn smile and treasures the sound. 

“I used to have a sister. Who I imagine would have become a shieldmaiden,” Bjorn mentions, and you stare up at him, waiting for him to carry on. “She died when a plague came to Kattegat,” he simply states, keeping his eyes in front of him as his jaw goes tense. 

You reach up to touch his arm and his head turns to look at where your hand touches him, the sight making his heart flutter and the corner of his lips to pull slightly into a smile. “I’m sorry,” you whisper, giving him a gentle smile which he returns. “I couldn’t imagine what it would be like to lose my brother,” you say, dropping your hand away from his arm as you fold your hands together. “At least you have four brothers now.”

He hums, smiles to himself as the memory of the teases his brothers sang before he left to find you, either at each other or at him. It never stops with them, and Bjorn suspects that’s what happens when there are so many boys in a house. 

“They definitely keep everyone on their feet. Each other, me, my mother and father,” he mentions, making you chuckle and bite your lip as you nod your head at his words. 

“That reminds me of my brother,” you say, turning your head up to him as you smile. Bjorn can see that you’re thinking of a memory. “Always keeping me on my toes.”

How could he forget about the duel you told him about? It was the first thing on his mind when he woke that morning and the only thing he wished to do was to go and see if it had already started. From the sounds he hears the moment he steps out of the small cabin for him and his family - the royal family of Kattegat - he gathers that this duel might have already started. 

Bjorn follows the cheers, shouting, and the sound of swords clashing with shields, ringing as they hit one another. Hvitserk and Ubbe join Bjorn on his way to your family’s side of the grove, eager to get involved themself, should it come to that. 

Just in time to see you with your sword against a young-looking opponent’s neck and his against yours, Bjorn can’t help a smile growing on his face, especially when he sees the determination on your face. Determination to win. 

The crowd that consists mostly of the men from your army urges you and your opponent to carry on, not wanting this fight to end so easily. The uproar when you both come to a standstill, panting heavy breathes only entices you more. 

Discarding your shield to the side, you pull out a battle knife and push away from your opponent. Snarling at him as you slightly crouch down to prepare for an attack, he throws his shield to the side and rolls his shoulders as he starts to walk around you. 

You do the same, both of you waiting for the other to attack. But you know, never attack first. It shows impulsiveness, not cunning. And as your opponent rushes towards you with a battle cry, you’re quick to step to the side, trap his sword between yours and your battle knife to disarm him. 

Then, you press the knife against his chest and the sword to his throat, a victorious smile on your face. “Will there ever be a time when you won’t come out on top, princess?” your opponent chuckles as you pull away, sheathing your knife and shrugging your shoulders. 

“There is still much you must learn if you wish to defeat me one day,” you mention, patting him on the shoulder before he walks away in his defeat. “Anyone else want to have a try?” you ask, glancing around the crowd gathering around you. 

Ubbe looks up at Bjorn, sees the deep stare he has on you, and smiles to himself as he pushes him forward. “My brother will have a go.” His words make Bjorn’s head snap over his shoulder to coldly glare at him. 

You turn toward the noise to see your new opponent, your smile slowly falling when you see Bjorn looking back at you. But you're not upset. If anything, you’re slightly concerned about yourself having to duel someone so...build like a God. It would be a bit of a challenge for you, you think. 

But you never say no to a challenge. 

Someone hands Bjorn a sword and a shield, making him take his eyes off of you for a moment. When he does look back at you, he sees that you’ve opted to not have a shield which makes him refuse one too. Instead, you go for another sword. 

He meets you in the center of the circle created by those that have gathered to watch this duel and you both touch swords, a sign of a friendly battle that’s about to come. You smile at him as you take a step back, twirling the swords in your hands as you roll your shoulders back. Bjorn smirks back at you, ready to see what it will be like to fight against you, someone he’s heard much about when it comes to fighting. An amazing shieldmaiden. 

Expecting you to make the first move, he stops your blade midair and then realizes how close you have come. He gets the chance to stare into your eyes once more, as he had yesterday.

You push him back, your sword ringing against his and making the crowd cheer. Bjorn had a feeling you wouldn’t go easy on him, but he can’t help notice the playful smirk you have on your face as he readies himself for another attack. It’s a smirk that makes him chuckle to himself. 

His mind wanders, thinking about what it would be like to train with you. Alone. What he wouldn’t give to be alone with you right now. He cherishes the moment he spent with you since he met you and he hopes, he prays to the Gods that they will give him more time with you. 

As he loses himself in his thoughts for a second, you attack again. This time, with both swords. Bjorn quickly snaps back to reality and just manages to swing his sword to counter your attack. He had no idea you have so much force behind an attack. You must be deadly on a battlefield, he thinks. 

Many men are rooting for Bjorn, probably hoping to see you lose at least one fight so that they can get back the money they had lost on bets against you. “You might have a chance,” you speak, pressing your swords harder against his. He knows you’re talking about the men urging him to defeat you. “If you concentrated a bit more.”

He laughs, swings his sword to push yours away, and then moves to attack you in three strong blows which send you walking backward. “You don’t have to tell me how to fight,” he teases.

Then he brings his sword down with all the force he has, making you fall on one knee with your swords crossed above your head to stop him. The crowd abrupts in a loud cheer for no one has ever brought you so close to the ground. 

But the fight is not over yet. 

Even though you’re panting, you fight to pull his sword out of his hands to disarm him. But just as you push yourself onto your feet again, Bjorn grabs your wrist and takes a sword from you before you can win this duel. He doesn’t let go and instead pulls you closer to him so your chest presses against him. The crowd goes quiet. 

“When can I be alone with you again?” The question falls from his lips, making you smile and shift slightly on your feet as you think about an answer. “Tomorrow night?” 

You can’t stop yourself from nodding. “Yes,” you whisper, stepping back and dropping your sword to your side as a bright smile spreads across your face. 

Bjorn watches you turn and walk away, his heart swelling in happiness that he’ll get to spend time alone with you again. It’s guaranteed that he’ll see you again and that you want to see him again. 

As you walk out of the ring, the crowd mutters among themselves to debate who won this duel. 

“And who are you seeing that you’re making a fuss of how you look?” your mother speaks as she walks in on you picking at the braids in your hair to make them look a bit more decent. Her voice makes you turn around with a loud gasp before you smile and look down at the ground in slight embarrassment. 

You bite your lower lip as she steps forward to you when you give a small shrug. “I decided to spend tonight’s feast with Bjorn Ironside,” you say, looking up at her with a small smile on your face. “He asked yesterday and I said yes.”

She smiles brightly, reaches up to run her finger over one of the braids in your hair, and chuckles to herself. You rarely bother to do so much with your hair. The last time you made so much fuss...well, it was when you had your eyes on a man. “You wouldn’t want to wear a dress tonight?”

Her words make you groan and roll your eyes as you duck under her arm to get away from her touch. “It’s not like that, mother. I just enjoy his company,” you mention, turning around to face her as you walk backward. “That’s it.” Your stubbornness makes her chuckle, but she holds her hands up in defeat, saying that she won’t say more.

“Who should I thank for making my daughter want to look like a princess tonight?” your father asks in a joking tone as he walks in. 

You give him a stern look that makes him laugh and hold his arm out to allow you to leave, which you do quickly to avoid any more questions. Your father then looks up at your mother, both of them smiling because they both know very well what’s going on even if you don’t. “She likes him,” your mother speaks, making your father hum as he wraps his arms around her waist. 

“Let’s just hope he’s not like the last one.”

The smile that grows on your face when you see Bjorn waiting in the spot he said he would be. There are people around that are celebrating in their own ways, drinking, laughing, or other activities. But it looks like Bjorn’s idea of spending the feast tonight with you is something a bit more relaxed. It will give you a chance to get to know him more and for him to ask you questions himself. 

That was probably his plan from the beginning, you think to yourself. 

Bjorn pushes himself off the tree when he spots you, his arms that were folded over his chest fall to his side and he gives a big smile as he walks forward to meet you before you reach his selected spot. 

“I’m glad you came,” he says, reaching down for your hand and raising it so he can place a kiss on the back of your knuckles. 

You bite your lip at the action and suppress a giggle from escaping. Bjorn thinks of you as a fierce warrior. A flustered giggle will ruin that and you don’t wish for that to happen. “I said I would join you and I’m not one to go back on my promise,” you chuckle, looking down at your hand when he doesn’t let go of it. 

He smirks and gently pulls you toward the spot. “I didn’t take you for someone who does in any case,” he mentions. 

Glancing around you, your mouth drops at what Bjorn has laid out. A blanket under a tree with bowls of food and a jug with two cups close by. There are no candles, but it’s bright enough with the moonlight shining down through the gaping hole in the canopy above that also shows a few stars. It’s amazing. “I would have thought you would have women lining up to be with you if you’re so romantic,” you joke, gently pulling your hand out of his as you sit down on the blanket. 

“If they are, I haven’t noticed,” he says, dropping down to sit beside you and reaching for the jug of ale and the two cups. “You’re the first woman to have caught my eye since…” He pauses, thinks to himself if he wants to say what’s on the tip of his tongue or not. “Since I lost my wife.”

What’s the point in keeping it a secret? You were bound to find out one way or another whether it be one of his brothers mentioning it out or you hear it from someone else. 

You blink at him in shock, not knowing which to focus on more; his compliment or the fact that he had a wife before but lost her. “I thought-” you stop. It would be distasteful to mention that you thought he didn’t have a wife. You can see the sadness on his face after he mentioned her. You don’t want to step over any boundaries. 

“That I didn’t have a wife?” he asks, turning his head to look at you as he hands you the filled cup. “No. She left a long time ago.” 

A lump grows in your throat and you roughly swallow past it as you watch Bjorn take a long sip from his cup. “What happened?” you softly ask, not knowing if it’s okay to ask that question.

“She…” His head drops between his shoulders as he breathes out a long sigh. “She was scarred across her face during a battle and was never the same since that. I didn’t know what to do to help her. She wouldn’t let me help her. I went with my father to Paris on a raid and when I came back, she was gone,” he explains, refusing to look at you and keeps his eyes on the cup of ale in his hands. “No one has seen or heard of her since.”

You can see he loved her. Truly loved her. And you can tell how broken his heart must have been when he came home to find her gone. It makes you reach out to place a hand over his, making his head turn up to look at you at last. “She meant a lot to you,” you whisper.

Bjorn turns his hand so he can lace his fingers with yours, locks his eyes with yours, and leans slightly closer. “She did. But not anymore.”

Catching his eyes flickering down to your lips, you breathe in a sharp breath that makes your lips part slightly. Your heart hammers in your chest and your skin goes hot. And when he presses his lips to yours, your mind explodes in an array of contradicting thoughts. 

You want to kiss him back, you want to allow yourself to let go of your past. But it still scares you. Thinking about the past few days, you realize how close you’ve gotten to Bjorn, how your feelings have grown so for him and it scares you even more. What if you’re wrong about him just like you were wrong about…

Stopping yourself from thinking about that, you pull away from Bjorn, break the kiss and shake your head to yourself. “I can’t. I’m sorry,” you whisper, pulling your hands out from his and placing the cup to the side as you stand. “I should go.”

Bjorn doesn’t have a chance to say anything to stop you from leaving and he’s left alone in confusion. He has no idea what happened and doesn’t know if he did something wrong. All he knows is that he’s certain he heard a tone of fright in your voice. 

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[idontblushsrry]

SFW Alphabet|| Megumi Fushiguro

A/N: Uhhhh I’m back on my bullshit >:) it’s missing Fushiguro hours folks.

Word Count: 2050

A: Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

(If you want some more in depth affection headcanons click here)

Fushiguro is someone who isn’t big on pda but makes up for it in private. In public, he’ll hold your hand but in private he’s laying i your lap while you massage his scalp. Basically, he’s a big softie that just represses his urge to cuddle until he’s alone with you.

B: Best Friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Best friend Megumi is literally the president of the Y/N defense squad. If anyone has a problem with you, they have a problem with him. Of course, you have to rein him in sometimes and remind him you can fight your own battles, but just know he’s lookin out for you.

C: Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Fushiguro loves to cuddle, but he will repress the urge to do so for as long as possible. Because of that, he doesn’t let you go, preferring to cling to you throughout the night. His cuddles are always deceptively loose too. His arms give you just enough wiggle room but the second you try to get up, it’s like fighting two pythons.

D: Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

I don’t think he ever really planned on settling down, Megumi figured that he’d die long before he ever got the chance to settle down. Everyday is pretty much a new experience in terms of domesticity for him, he doesn’t have plans for the future, but as long as you’re with him, he’ll be happy.

E: Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

If he ever had to break up with someone, he’d probably ask for help on how to do so. The first person he’d ask (regrettably) would be Gojo who’d tell Megumi to just ghost the person. After asking around some more, he figured Kugisaki’s approach of getting it over with as bluntly as possible (although less mean) was the best option.

F: Fiance(e) (How would they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Megumi isn’t really the type for wedding ceremonies. He’s all about commitment (even though working up to marriage for him is longer than most) but he’s not a fan of being the center of attention, so a wedding ceremony/reception wouldn’t be his thing. If you wanted a ceremony, he’d be willing to compromise somewhat but otherwise, he’s perfectly fine with just going to the courthouse.

G: Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

He’s kind of rough around the edges. In private, he can be the sweetest, most tender soul, but in public he’ll put 7 yards of distance between you both if you try to hug him. Basically, he’s very shy, so anything that’ll draw too much attention is a no go (he isn’t opposed to linking pinkies though).

H: Hugs( Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?

At first Megumi really only hugged you when he was missing you, sad, or tired. Over time though, he got better at becoming more open with his affection and he’ll hug you whenever he feels the urge to. Despite that though, his hugs still have an undercurrent of desperation in them. He holds on just as tight each time like he’s afraid you’ll disappear.

I: I love you (How fast do they say the L-word)

He’s operating on a very strict ‘If you don’t say it, I won’t’ policy and as such this man will not say a single thing to you unless prompted. He knows deep down that he loves you and that you set off butterflies in his stomach every time you smile, but he never really thought to verbalize that until you say ‘I love you’ first.

J: Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous)

Megumi doesn’t get jealous, he’s fought side by side with you and he knows you’re more than capable of fending off any unwanted suitors. Megumi put a lot of trust into you by already being in a relationship so to him, it makes no sense to be jealous over you. That all being said, he’s not above the occasional side eye if someone’s getting a little too buddy buddy.

K: Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

On a normal day, his kisses are so natural, he’s so slow and the pressure is just enough to have you thinking you’ve got all the time in the world. In near death/ post-near death circumstances, he’s a little more feral. When he kisses you like that, it feels like it’s the end of the world and he’s trying to make the most of it.

L: Little ones (How are they around children)

Fushiguro isn’t good with kids that aren’t old enough to communicate. Older kids are fine with him, but guessing what a baby needs based on how loud it’s crying? Hard pass for him and he doesn’t even feel bad about it. The last time he had to watch a baby, he tried to leave one of his shikigami to watch it; long  story short, he had to explain to a cackling Gojo why his demon dogs wouldn’t let him leave to go to the bathroom.

M: Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Mornings with Fushiguro are pretty rare. Most of the time you guys don’t really get to sleep in or even spend mornings together since most of the time there’s missions or trainings you’ll have to go to. When you do get the rare morning off, Fushiguro makes the most of it. He sleeps in and doesn’t wake up before 10 no matter what you try. When he does finally wake up, he loves cooking breakfast with you, he’s not the best cook, but he treasures the experience over anything.

N: Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Nights with Megumi are also rare as most curses come out at night and that’s kinda your guys’ job. If all goes well though, you’ll both come back a little earlier and just go straight to sleep. If it’s a late night where the curse took more out of either of you than expected, yall usually stay up and talk and snack until one of you falls asleep or the sun comes up.

O: Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

It takes him an extremely long time to open up to you about his past. Not because he doesn’t trust you, but because he’s embarrassed and doesn’t want you to think less of him for it (especially during his problem child era). To be honest, you probably find out about certain things from other people. Once he’s cornered confronted, he’ll be completely (albeit a bit grudgingly) honest about it.

P: Patience (How easily angered are they?)

His anger is kind of weird, whereas before, he was a lot quicker to explode, bluntly telling off or even fighting whoever pissed him off, he’s changed. He tries his best to repress his emotions and as such, he comes off as patient, never expressing his true feelings/desires until pushed to the brink. 

Q: Quizzes (How much would they remember about you?  Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

He’s the king of remembering details you mention in passing. His love language is partially acts of service so for him, remembering details about you helps him later. Oh remember that one time you needed a pen/pencil but didn’t have one? Never again, this man has a section of his shadows dedicated solely to pencils because of you. Oh what’s that, you like this random song? Guess what just got added to the playlist he made for you. Basically, while he may not look like it, he’s actually a simp and so if he can make your life easier/ make you happy, it’s worth it.

R: Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

So Megumi is someone who doesn’t play video games but is really good at them for no reason. One day, you’re playing a game of smash bros. and he’s just kicking your ass, like it was sad. Needless to say, after his 4th win, he “accidently” pressed the wrong button and let you win. He thinks you don’t know he did this but when you won, you kissed him and completely flustered him, to the point that he couldn’t play for a solid 5 minutes. 

S: Security (How protective are they? How would they like to be protected?)

Despite knowing and trusting that you can defend yourself, he’s still super protective of you. You’re one of the few people that he cares about in the world and he’d give everything to see you safe and protected. As for how he’d like to be protected, knock some sense into him every once in a while. He has a habit of self sacrificing so if you want to protect him, remind him that you want to keep him alive as much as he wants to keep you alive.

T: Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

On the outside, his dates are very simple. They usually consist of you and him either staying in or just hanging out at stores and the like. Every once in a while, he’ll try to take you somewhere special, like a cove he found or a festival. For most people, these may be simple dates, but Fushiguro puts so much effort into so may aspects of your dates that honestly, anything bigger would lose the personal touch your dates have.

U: Ugly (What are some bad habits of theirs? (I’m gonna add arguments here because they aren’t on the prompt list I found))

One of his worst habits is his self-sacrificing tendencies. Even during a baseball game, he can’t help but sacrifice himself (especially if it means his friends/ you get to get the glory). With time though, he grows out of this and realizes it’s not selfish to want the best for yourself.

V: Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

He’s giving “I woke up like this” and it’s... it’s something. One might think the style is intentional since obviously, the look could only be achieved with gel, and to an extent, it is intentional. He might use gel to spike it a little more but the man legit rolls out of bed and chooses to leave his hair up like that.

W: Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

No, as much as he loves you, Fushiguro is an introvert. He needs time to just be by himself and unwind every once in a while, so he’s got no complaints if you leave him to his own devices or have to be gone for a long time.

X: (E)xes (Any previous relationship experience. How does that factor into your current relationship?)

Megumi has negative zero relationship experience. He’s never found someone that was worth the risk/ worth opening up to, hell, he just barely got friends when he entered high school. Because of this, every part of your relationship is like navigating uncharted waters.

Y: Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner)

He’s less someone to dislike a specific thing/ personality trait, and more someone who doesn’t like different people for different reasons, ex. Todo and Mai. If he had to pick a single trait, it’d probably have to be hypocriticism.

Z: Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs?)

He is someone who will fall asleep spread eagle one night and the next be huddled into a tiny little section of the bed. Mercy on you if you try to cuddle because now you’re wrapped up into his unconscious acrobatic routine.

[theartofdreaming1]

Here is my attempt at portraying Peeta’s camouflage skills convincingly 😅😅

As usual, my thoughts regarding this week’s prompts and random thoughts on chapters 19-21 are below the cut.

heart

While I love all the banter between Katniss and Peeta, I think my favorite of these three chapters is: “Trust me. Killing things is much easier than this,” I say. “Although for all I know, I am killing you.” “Can you speed it up a little?” he asks. “No. Shut up and eat your pears,” I say. A classic 😄

mind

I always imagined that Cato went after Thresh before coming for Katniss and Peeta because a) Thresh took the backpack for District 2 (which contained the body armor that would make dealing with Katniss’s arrow so much easier) and b) Thresh killed Clove and Cato wanted to avenge her... Although I have no idea how Cato ended up killing Thresh... he was doing pretty well for himself in his grass-y area... Maybe the Gamemakers wanted to punish Thresh for not killing Katniss and generated that thunderstorm and rain to force Thresh out of his refuge, which would give Cato a fair chance to kill him, I guess...

soul

Lol, honestly, since Peeta just generally seems to be motivated by kindness and love/caring, I don’t think it took much for him to keep the star-crossed lovers angle alive (I could easily imagine him actually noticing Katniss in the willow tree early in the Games and offering to take care of the District 8 girl, so the Careers would get the hell out of there, away from Katniss)

Chapter 19:

Peeta, who’s been wounded, is now my ally. [...] I’d loathe any tribute who didn’t immediately ally with their district partner. Besides, it just makes sense to protect each other. - Honestly, this just highlights what a kind person Katniss is, despite her aloof front; her innermost instinct is always to stick together and to protect. Because it doesn’t really make sense for her to team up with Peeta - she knows he’s wounded and won’t be of much help to her, her chances of survival are way better if she stayed on her own, but it’s not something she’d ever consider now that they are allowed to form a team (and only then does she even factor in the whole ‘star-crossed lovers of district 12′ -angle)

Peeta, it turns out, has never been a danger to me. The thought makes me smile. - Aww 😊 (but also, how heart-breaking that the Capitol will do everything in their power to change that, to make Peeta become a danger to Katniss 😢)

He’s very hard to predict, which might be interesting under different circumstances - Okay, but this just makes me think of that exchange in Gilmore Girls when Paris and Rory talk about how you know a guy is right for you:  “Someone who’s compatible but not compatible.” “Yeah, kind of. I mean, you respect each other’s opinions and you can laugh at the same jokes, but I don’t know – there’s just something about not quite knowing what the other person’s gonna do at all times that’s just really exciting.” - fits these two to a T 😏

In fact, I’ve just about decided I’m on the wrong track entirely, that a wounded boy would be unable to navigate getting to and from this water source, when I see the bloody streak - Okay, but how flipping tough is Peeta?! He’s severely injured, with multiple tracker jacker stings and he drags himself to this terrain that is almost impossible to navigate for someone in his condition - a sturdy dandelion, indeed!

“You’re here to finish me off, sweetheart?” - What an entrance after having gone AWOL for quite a couple of chapters 👌🏼👏🏼

“Remember, we’re madly in love, so it’s all right to kiss me anytime you feel like it.” I jerk my head back but end up laughing. “Thanks, I’ll keep it in mind.” [...] “Katniss?” Peeta says. I meet his eyes, knowing my face must be some shade of green. He mouths the words “How about that kiss?” I burst out laughing - He’s lying in a river bed, slowly dying, and he can still make her laugh 😊

“You know, you’re kind of squeamish for such a lethal person” - It’s such a small comment, but I can’t help but think that Peeta is just kind of intrigued to discover all these little idiosyncrasies that make up the ever-elusive Katniss Everdeen ;)

Impulsively, I lean forward and kiss him, stopping his words. -  Aww, she doesn’t even want to consider him dying, so she spontaneously decides to cut him off with a kiss👀👀 Honestly, at this point Peeta has elicited 2 (!) spontaneous kisses  (the kiss after the chariot ride and this one) from Katniss, who generally isn’t that big on touching people

“You’re not going to die. I forbid it. All right?” - Stubborn, protective Katniss... But also reminds me of their rooftop “date” in CF and the “Then you’ll allow it?” “I’ll allow it” - exchange

I kiss him awake, which seems to startle him. Then he smiles as if he’d be happy to lie there gazing at me forever. He’s great at this stuff. - KaTNisSs, gurl... 🙄🤦🏼‍♀️

Chapter 20:

But I knew he was injured. And still I came after him. I’m just going to have to trust whatever instinct sent me to find him was a good one. - The very best of instincts, Katniss, don’t you worry😉

Peeta’s struggling to get up when I reach the cave. “I woke up and you were gone,” he says, “I was worried about you.” - Gah, why are the both of them so good?! They just care for and worry about each other 24/7

“How do you feel?” “Better than yesterday. This is an enormous improvement over the mud,” he says. “Clean clothes and medicine and a sleeping bag... and you.” Oh right, the whole romance thing. - Oh Katniss...😐 I reach out to touch his cheek and he catches my hand and presses it against his lips. I remember my father doing this very thing to my mother and I wonder where Peeta picked it up. - Where did Peeta pick this up? From a time his family was less dysfunctional? Observing couples in the town square? Or is he a fricking disney prince and these things come natural to him? Questions, questions...

“You didn’t sleep,” Peeta says. “I’m all right,” I say. But the truth is, I’m exhausted. “Sleep now. I’ll keep watch.” [...] I test his cheek. Hot as a coal stove. He claims he’s been drinking, but the containers still feel full to me. I give him more fever pills and stand over him while he drinks first one, then a second quart of water. - These two are just too stubborn to take proper care of themselves - good thing that each of them is adamant to force the other to sleep/drink/eat when necessary

“Besides I like watching you sleep. You don’t scowl. Improves your looks a lot.” - When presented with the choice of being flirty vs being a cheeky little shit, Peeta will choose being a flirty cheeky little shit every time 😂

“I’m going to make soup,” I say. “Don’t light a fire,” he says. “It’s not worth it.” - Okay, but what he’s actually saying is “I’m not worth it” 😭😭

Katniss telling that story about buying Prim’s goat😊... A young buck, probably a yearling by his size. His antlers were just growing in, still small and coated in velvet. [...] Beautiful. - We are all very much aware of Peeta’s appreciation for beauty, but the same does apply to Katniss, too (she’s just overall more pragmatic)

“Was it [the goat] still wearing the pink ribbon?″ he asks. “I think so,” I say. “Why?” “I’m just trying to get a picture,” he says thoughtfully. -  Peeta is so detail-oriented! I have this theory that this is actually something that enables him to overcome his hijacking; we catch glimpses in MJ of how he inches himself out of his condition by asking/focusing on small details or things most people would dismiss as trivial (Katniss’s favorite color, the color of her dress visiting District 7, her Dad singing the Hanging Tree when Peeta was 6 or 7 years old...) and I feel like it makes a lot of sense - his tormentors in the Capitol either wouldn’t have access to distort these moments or not even consider them to have any significance (since they are all about big, flashy gestures in the Capitol), so these memories would remain untouched. Luckily, Peeta seems to live by Robert Brault’s words: “Enjoy the little things, for one day you may look back and realize they were the big things. “

“Really? What did you cost me again?” I ask. “A lot of trouble. Don’t worry. You’ll get it all back,” he says. - Well, he’s going to cost her a lot more trouble in the future - but we know he’s going to make up for it and bring her much happiness, too 😊

“You’re not risking your life for me.” “Who said I was?” I say. [...] “Of course I’m not going.” [...] “You’re such a bad liar, Karniss.” [...] Anger flushes my face. “All right, I am going, and you can’t stop me!” “I can follow you. At least partway. I may not make it to the Cornucopia, but if I’m yelling your name I bet someone can find me. And then I’ll be dead for sure,” he says. - Soo.. their love language is offering to sacrifice their life like it’s nothing, huh?! 😳😅 

Peeta eats without complaint, even scraping out the pot to show his enthusiasm. He rambles on about how delicious it is, - lol, sounds like a husband trying to get back on his wife’s good side after they had a row 😂

I clamp my hand over his mouth and nose hard, forcing him to swallow instead of spit. He tries to make himself vomit the stuff up, but it’s too late, he’s already losing consciousness. - Ah, the most important indicator of true love: having person A force-feed person B a sedative so they can run off to get them life-saving medicine ;)

Chapter 21:

I lie next to Peeta in the bag, trying to absorb every bit of his fever heat. It’s strange to be so physically close to someone who’s so distant. Peeta might as well be back in the Capitol, - Reminds me how in MJ she’s going to be so close to Peeta (mentally/emotionally) while he will be physically so distant (in the Capitol!)

a tiny orange one [backpack] [...] that must be marked with a 12 - Interesting how that backpack is orange, huh? Why is that? Are smaller backpacks generally orange (like the one Katniss already has) to be more visible or is this simply to connect the backpack to Peeta (though we don’t know his favorite color at this point)? Do the Gamemakers care whether Katniss gets a matching backpack? It just seems like an unnecessary detail to throw in🤔

The table has just clicked into place when a figure darts out of the Cornucopia, snags the green backpack, and speeds off. Foxface! - Honestly, this was a truly brilliant move; kudos! 👏🏼

[Clove] carefully selects an almost dainty-looking number [knife] with a cruel, curved blade. “I promised Cato if he let me have you, I’d give the audience a good show.” [...] “I think...” she almost purrs. “I think we’ll start with your mouth.” [...] she teasingly traces the outline of my lips with the tip of the blade. - Okay, but the idea of Clove cutting off Katniss’s lips is just all kinds of terrifying and disturbing 😨

“No! No, I-” Clove sees the stone, about the size of a small loaf of bread in Thresh’s hand [...] Thresh brings the rock down hard against Clove’s temple. [...] and I know she’s a goner. - Interesting how Katniss describes that rock that basically saves her life (or at least kills her assailant) as bread-sized, huh? “Your district... they sent me bread. [...] Conflicting emotions cross Thresh’s face. He lowers the rock and points at me, almost accusingly. “Just this one time, I let you go. For the little girl.” - Katniss mentions the bread from District 11 as a proof of her alliance with Rue (and the recognition of D11) and Thresh spares her; bread keeps saving her life (while it keeps representing acts of kindness)

Cato kneels beside Clove, spear in hand, begging her to stay with him. - I appreciate this small, humanizing moment with Cato

The last thing I remember is an exquisitely beautiful green and silver moth landing on the curve of my wrist. - I don’t know much about North American insects (not that I know that much about European insects either - just recently came across a relatively rare moth on my walks that I had never seen or heard of before) - is Katniss describing a special/noteworthy species of moth? Or is this a more literary symbolism kind of moth? (Just looked up some symbolism meaning of moths: change/transformation, seeking light; power of regeneration in some Native American mythology, hmm...)

[albino-whumpee]

Introduction

Superhero whump for practice and to set me into a writing mood again. Or a creating mood again. Idk anymore. Hope you like it! Also to fill my @badthingshappenbingo card, with prompt “pinned by wreckage”

This is a series 

Masterlist

CW// blood, villain whumpee, superhero caretaker, gruff caretaker, enemies to friends?, murder mention, dub con bondage, impaled limb, defiant whumpee, field medicine and captivity.

Among the gravel and devastation, someone sweated the big drop just trying to get to someone. The quiet was made of the crackling fire and rocks sliding under their step; their “friends” long gone to be celebrated for their did. After years of endless, tiresome battles, they had brought Villain down.

However the hero that had turned off the microphone on the collar around their neck wasn’t sure their team had been heroic at all.

Villain had self destructed after being surrounded without escape. Fearing what they might do with them once captured, they blew up their whole base. Or that’s what the leader told the rest.

Hero spent hours after dawn searching. Digging and clinging to any little sound. After a few hours of smelling nothing but dust and their own blood, they found them. The hero’s breathing slowed looking at villain so utterly defenseless, dirty with blood pooling below them because of how a piece of the fallen building impaled one of their arms, and still somehow, when Hero got closer, was able to pull a scowl.

“Don’t get any closer, hero…” they said between laboured pants.

“Can you stop me?” They stepped forward regardless of their hissing. Hero was slightly amused of Villain recoiling their legs closer, away from their reach. “You lost, Villain”

Their eyes widened before pressing their lips into a tight line “Not yet, I… Im not yet-º

“There’s nothing left. It’s done” they cut them off, now towering over them. “And if you don’t treat that arm you will be done for, too”

“What?” Villain blurted out as Hero placed their hands over the metal structure “The hell are you doing?! Get off!” They screamed throwing weak punches at Hero’s legs and shins. They pushed with all their strength, grunting under their breath and panting harder before wheezing out of the effort. A few drips of blood stained hero’s boots “You’re not taking me to lock me up. That’s. Not. Happening.” they snarled with the fury of a wild animal that’s desperately fighting to get off a hunter’s trap. “Not when I was so close… I won’t let that happen!”

Hero looked from above at the pitiful image of their enemy trying to pointlessly push them away while taking their last breaths.

“They told me to leave you to die” Hero admitted suddenly. Catching villain off guard and throwing them off enough to make them look up at them in surprise. “If I found you alive, they told me to kill you slowly. If I found you half dead, to watch and bring your corpse” Hero’s dark eyes usually had a gleam Villain despised. But hopefulness wasn’t on the eyes that looked down on the dirty villain before them. Both of them knew that but Villain sighed a harsh breath.

After a long moment, Villain kept their eyes trained down, they spoke in a weak voice “They said I…ah, deserved that, didn’t they?”

“Yes”

Villain stilled and their bleeding arm tensed up, blood speeding down at the pressure before Villain released with a whimper. Their voice was empty and completely uncharacteristic of the Villain they knew “Maybe you should listen to them”

“Maybe” the hero said placing their hands over the metal again, firmly buckling their elbows in preparation “But if we’re done dealing with you I can choose for myself” they continued at the same time they freed their arm and Villain cried out.

Villain cradled their injured arm close, losing energy by the second and already tired out from the previous battle, Hero didn’t have to use their super strength to treat their injuries with the medical glue. An sticky white material that was applied with a gun and acted as a plug to stop the bleeding on deep injuries. They had pierced their arm in two sections, forearm and triceps, too close to the center and maybe too dangerous to have only the glue working when Villain was that pale from blood loss. They had to get somewhere else and get better treatment.

But Villain made one last effort to avoid their fate being suddenly placed on Hero’s hands, trying to jump away and falling into a pit filled with water from a busted out pipe. They crawled. Or tried to, but they had no more energy to lift themselves up the ground. Consciousness slipping, they felt themselves get scooped up, a warmth they despised, firmly against their cheek as the world turned white around the edges.

In Hero’s back, with the sway of their trot over the remains of their base, Villain cried helplessly. After so long, it was really over. Them and their work and everything they longed for was…gone. They could see the devastation beyond the ruins. They knew they were no saint, but now after losing, had it been worth it? All the sacrifices made?

They had dreams they took a long, long time to even imagine them. Much more setting them into motion. But they weren’t on the side that get their dreams realized, were they?

“Why?” Villain suddenly asked as Hero was getting back to their airship hidden in the woods, now just a few dead branches from the aftershock of the buildings collapsing.

“Why what?”

Villain couldn’t even find it in them to open their eyes. No energy left to fight either. There was no point now “You’re a…special kind of naive for…helping me when you’re killing me anyways” they said, controlling their breathing to not give out how tired they were. Hero probably already knew, anyways, by how they hanged limp on their back.

“Im not killing you”

“Same thing as locking me up” Hero stayed quiet a second. The sound of their boots crunching the dirt and loose branches didn’t stop.

“I won’t do that either”

Villain laughed wryly “Not just naive but stupid too”

“Guess stupid people stick together” Hero stopped a second to readjust their grip on Villain. A careful hop that let their head rest against their broad back, before they continued and Villain heard the engine of the airship.

“Dunno, your squad isn’t here…” Villain’s stomach churned at the frustration of getting carried into their enemy’s ship, hopelessly under their mercy. Just about to fill every nightmare they had relentlessly tried to avoid. But there was something about the way Hero laughed as they carefully laid them on the bed with nylon belts that ignited a doubt, a little spark of hope that Villain shoved down. In a situation like that hope didn’t have room anymore.

“I wasn’t talking about them” Hero said before eyeing the belts and sighing. Trouble noticeable in their face before deciding to speak again “We will fly to get you help but I need you to be still. I’m sorry but I’ll have to restrain you”

Villain snorted and gave a breathy laugh that ended in them pressing their mouth shut trying to cover the wince of pain from moving their arm. “Your lot never asked before” Villain shakily crossed their arms over their chest, and a dark thought tingled on Hero’s mind. Villain seemed to know exactly how the restraints of the airship worked already. They had never managed to capture them so why..? Villain panted harder and Hero pulled their attention on cinching the belts around them. Over their legs and the three over their chest, careful of the injured arm and passing one over their forehead. They were leaving to the cabin, when Villain talked again. “Neck. You forgot”

“My, you’re chattier than I thought” Hero said not moving an inch to buckle the belt over their neck. Villain opened their eyes and looked up at the metal ceiling, unable to turn or toss their head around. Only barely able to recline their head back a little. Honestly surprised to not been muzzled already.

They smiled at the inverted image of Hero “Just enjoying freedom as long as I can”

“Im not- “ Hero rubbed their temples before sighing long “We will talk about this later, but You can be sure of something, Villain” Hero said walking to the pilot seat and retracting the wheels as they heard the other take a deep breath and wince because of the constriction if the belts. As Hero’s ship went up and prepared for quick transport they added “I’m not giving up on you. Everyone can change”

Villain felt the pull on their stomach they knew so well and closed their eyes. Focusing on keeping an steady breath to not give in to panic.

“We’ll see about that”