#A few of these would be actually terrifying | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

trianglegoddess · 1 day ago

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Zombie Apocalypse

Uuuuuh guess I'm starting a new meet-cute series. Lmk if yall have some ideas

Also on AO3!

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Eddie has always been a runner.

Fuck, he’s good at it, too.

In elementary school, when the kids playing soccer would chase after him, the teachers would sit by and do nothing when they caught him because boys will be boys. In middle school, when those same kids spat at his feet and called him trailer trash and Eddie couldn’t help but snarl something back, and he’d be running then, too. In high school, he ran when his drug deals went sideways, or if Hargrove was just fucking on one and wanted to take it out on the freak.

He’s always been good at running. It’s kept him alive, kept him safe, mostly, and kept his stoner lungs from completely giving out on him. He’s always been slick, always been able to get away, always lucky. So much so that for a long time he questioned it. Questioned why he was always able to get away, questioned why he was able to avoid worse things happening when the universe clearly had it out for him.

Today though…Today his luck runs out.

He’s running, just like he always has, feet pounding into the ground, arms pumping back and forth, the weight of his supplies thumping on his back with every step he takes. He’s out of ammo, and he’s too much of a chicken-shit to let those things get close, so he runs.

The first zombies appeared in the bigger cities-New York, Chicago, L.A., Houston-the list goes on. The government did a shit job of trying to cover it up, and because they were so focused on covering it up they didn’t do anything to actually solve the problem. The whole zombie thing spread like wildfire across the country, tearing through the bigger cities. Hawkins, thankfully, had a little more time, a little more preparation, but it too eventually fell to the undead hordes.

He and Wayne had left town pretty quickly, taking nothing but the essentials-non perishable food, the old hunting rifles that haven’t been used in years as well as the ammo, some canteens full of clean water, and weed. They had no map, no real sense of direction. They just picked a direction and fucking ran.

That was three years ago.

Last week, Wayne went on a solo supply run and never came back. It’s their own fault for even getting this close to another town, where the zombies would no doubt be lingering. If Eddie hadn't been sick, he would have never needed the medicine. If Eddie had been smarter somehow, or stronger, Wayne would have never had to go off on his own.

Which led Eddie to sneak around the city, ducking behind cars and whatnot, silent as a mouse because most zombies couldn’t see for shit but they could hear like no other. But then one had snuck up on him, had taken a swipe at him, and Eddie had stumbled back and cursed, and that had made one zombie turn into five, five turn into ten and so on.

Most zombies are pretty slow. Their bodies are all weird and decayed and the muscles don’t work like they should, not when the thing piloting the bodies if half-rotted and can’t send proper signals.

Emphasis on most.

There are a few in this particular pack who are wearing letterman jackets, and Eddie has to bite back a comment about how typical it is that the ones gaining on him are the undead jocks of the world.

He’s still not fully recovered, not really. It had been a bad sort of cold or flu or something, leaving him with body aches and a terrible cough that he can still feel rattling around in his chest with every breath. It doesn’t surprise him in the least that they eventually catch up to him.

He’s got a knife in one hand, and tries to swipe at the one in arm’s reach, but he ends up falling ass over tea kettle instead. He manages to scoot just far enough away where the zombie swiping at him misses. He kicks the thing in the face, and it stumbles back and lands on its ass, but more just crawl over it, pawing at Eddie.

His lungs are tight and his limbs feel like jelly and he’s absolutely terrified, and also frustrated because between fight or flight it’s always been flight but now, now he’s freezing, and he’s wondering why nobody ever talks about that secret third option as a zombie gets a little too up close and personal, jaw hanging open inhumanly and-

-a shot echoes throughout the otherwise quiet neighborhood and the zombies all sort of scatter. It’s enough of a distraction for Eddie to get his feet back under him. He turns away from the zombie pack as he starts to pick up speed, only to run straight into something very-firm?

A pair of gentle hands grasp him by the elbows and gently move him to the side, murmuring soothing reassurances in his ear as he steps away. It’s dumb because Eddie doesn’t even get a look at the guy’s face and he feels a sort of unfamiliar ache in his body as the guy steps away from him.

Eddie wants to reach out, sorta starts to, but then there’s a girl around his age, maybe a year or two younger, wearing a little hat over her blonde bob, and she’s grinning like a maniac as she chucks a Molotov cocktail into the center of the horde.

Several of the zombies screech at the sky as the fire eats away at them, and it’s not the first time Eddie had ever smelled an on-fire zombie before but every time he has to fight away his nausea.

The ones who are lucky enough to get away from the fire are unlucky enough to run straight to McDreamy. He’s got his back towards Eddie, illuminated in the dusk by the raging fire in front of him. He’s got a denim jacket with the sleeves rolled up part way, and a baseball bat full of nails gripped in his right hand.

He’s beautiful, Eddie thinks. He hasn’t even seen the dude’s fucking face and he knows it for a fact.

A zombie makes a move at McDreamy, and the dude casually sidesteps the attack before bringing the bat down hard. The zombie collapses to the ground, its rotted brains spilling out onto the pavement.

There’s another shot, and a zombie near the back of the pack drops. Another Molotov is thrown, more screeching, more swinging, and in a matter of minutes the whole horde of two dozen zombies is wiped out.

Movement catches his eye, and he turns to see a short, curly haired brunette with rifle in her hands and a sawn-off strapped to her back making her way towards them. She goes straight for McDreamy as the other girl, the one with the dumb little hat, loops her arm through Eddie’s and starts taking him for a fucking walk.

“Soooo,” she says, “you’re name wouldn’t happen to be Eddie, would it?”

“How do you know that?” He asks.

“We found your uncle, he’s been worried sick. He took a nasty fall, couldn’t get back to you, but he’s okay. And now you’re okay!” She steps back for a moment. Not far enough to detach herself, but enough to get a better look at him. “You are okay, right? No bites or anything?”

“No, I’m-I’m good,” he says. “No bites. Just a few scrapes from falling.”

She nods, satisfied, before gluing herself back to his side. “I’m Robin, by the way.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Robin. Uh, where the hell are we going, if you don’t mind me asking?”

Robin just grins at him.

—-

Turns out their destination is a big fancy house with two stories and boarded up windows. There are spikes in the ground facing towards them to keep the zombies out, as well as barbed wire and other bobby traps that Robin guides him through. McDreamy and Shorty take the lead and lead them into the house.

Immediately Eddie is hit with the sound of multiple voices. McDreamy drops a ring of keys into the bowl by the front door as he steps further into the house. Eddie watches as a horde of children all come barreling out of the other room-seven that Eddie counts-and they surround McDreamy, hanging off of him and trying to talk over each other as he leads them back to the main room. They’re all around fifteen maybe, except for the youngest one, who looks like she’s about eleven or twelve.

Robin rolls her eyes, but her smile is fond as she looks on at McDreamy as he expertly child-wrangles. She leads him into the same room-a spacious sort of den area with lots of soft things strewn about and a sectional for a couch.

A sectional his uncle is currently sitting on, with his ankle wrapped and elevated. When he sees Eddie, though, he’s on his good foot in an instant. Eddie rushes in, trying to keep his emotions at bay as he grips Wayne tight. There’s a hand on the back of his head, bringing him down to Wayne’s shoulder as they just hold each other for a minute. Eddie lets out a shaky breath, forcing all of the tension in his shoulders to release.

“It’s good to see you, boy,” he says when they part, patting Eddie on the cheek. Wayne’s eyes are a little tired, a little watery, but relieved all the same.

“You too, old man.”

Eddie helps him get comfortable again before turning to look around the room. The older teens-the ones who saved him-are lingering by the doorway with an older woman with dark hair and big eyes. She catches sight of Eddie and gives him a soft, motherly smile before turning back to listen to whatever Robin is telling her.

McDreamy isn’t facing him, but Eddie can still sorta see his side profile. Tan skin, perfect, floppy hair, sharp jawline and a strong nose all dotted with freckles and moles, and Eddie thinks he’s going to profess his love right then and there until there’s a tug on his hand.

It’s one of the younger teens. She’s got a mop of dark curls on her head, short and wild, and big brown eyes. She tilts her head to the side, looking at him like she can see straight into his soul. Maybe she can. It’s a weird world they live in.

“You are Eddie?” She asks.

“Yeah, I’m Eddie. I appreciate all of you looking after my uncle. The old man doesn’t know when to hold ‘em and fold ‘em and all that,” Eddie says with a wave of his hand. He hears Wayne snort off to the side, though the little girl just looks a little confused. “It’s uh, it’s a song,” he explains.

“Oh. We are still collecting music, so I haven’t heard that one. My name is Jane. These are my friends,” she gestures behind her. She puts a name to the faces of everyone, even the older teens, even the adults that aren’t in the room.

“You guys got like a little army going on, huh? It’s nice.”

“Yes,” she says, nothing but sincerity in her gaze as she looks at him. “It is.”

—

It’s not until later, when Robin ushers him into one of the bedrooms, later when Robin throws some clean clothes at him and points him to the shower, later when he can scrub all of the mud and muck and grime off of his body that he feels settled.

He looks in the mirror, takes his time. He doesn’t really remember the last time he looked in one. The zombie apocalypse had kind of ruined the need for one, and keeping up appearances wasn’t really a priority when running for your life.

He’s sharper, he thinks. His cheekbones jut out a bit more than he remembers, and his eyes are a little more sunken in the way everybody’s is now. His hair is longer, too, though he kind of figured that. He loves it, but it’s almost too much to maintain most days. It’s hot and sweaty when his hair is down, and a tangled, matted rats nest when it’s not, but the last time he had a haircut it was his dad who did it, gripping the ends of it as he took an electric razor to Eddie’s head, ignoring his cries, ignoring the cuts that he caused. It’s stupid, Eddie thinks, given it’s kind of the end of the world, but he doesn’t feel like he can cut his hair, despite lacking the resources to take care of it.

He lets out a weary sigh, tries to fit this new version of himself into his brain, before he finishes getting dressed in the clean clothes that Robin had thrown at his head. When he steps out into the bedroom that the bathroom is attached to he stops short.

Because standing in front of him is McDreamy.

Or, no. Not McDreamy, because now that Eddie can actually see his face in its entirety, it doesn’t feel like enough. Eddie feels like he’s staring at the sun. All tanned skin and dark hair and warm, brown eyes. His nose, Eddie can see now, is crooked like it was broken and never healed right, and he’s got a thin scar that disappears into his hairline. He’s got freckles and moles dotting his face and neck, as well as miscellaneous scars that seem to be scattered everywhere.

He feels like he’s looking at just some pretty boy. He feels like he’s gazing upon Apollo, unworthy but begging to be seen anyway.

“Hi,” the boy says, and he smiles, soft and warm and safe and Eddie doesn’t know why, too tired to process, but it makes his insides feel all warm, like soup on a cold day. “Eddie, right? Sorry I didn’t introduce myself properly earlier. I’m Steve.”

Steve. It’s a name that seems plain for him but also seems perfect. Maybe that’s what Eddie is always going to get with Steve. Just a pile of contradictions that make the butterflies in Eddie’s stomach go haywire.

“Thanks for the save back there,” Eddie says. He’s doing his best to not sound absolutely smitten, doing his best to look at Steve’s eyes and not his mouth.

“No worries. We don’t have a spare bedroom or anything but you’re welcome to bunk with me. Bed’s big enough for two, but if you don’t want to share I can take the floor.”

“No! No, I mean-uh-bed. Sharing. Sharing the bed is good. With me.”

Eddie kind of wishes the zombies had gotten to him.

Steve, though, he just chuckles, and in the dim light of the room he can see a dusty red coating his cheeks. “Come on, food’s ready.”

At dinner they sit close, and Eddie doesn’t even register the fact that this is the best thing he’s eaten in three years because the table is small and everything is hands and elbows and Eddie feels like he’s going to catch on fire every time he and Steve touch. They’re shoulder to shoulder, thigh to thigh and it should be uncomfortable, they should be pulling away but they don’t.

After dinner, after he talks with the kids about music and DnD and after he and Wayne say their goodnights, Steve leads him back up to the bedroom and they wordlessly get under the covers.

Neither of them fall asleep immediately. Eddie tries to focus on all of the imperfections in the ceiling, but he can hear Steve’s steady breathing and the rustle of the comforter and, for the second time that night, wishes the zombies had gotten him.

“So you said you play music, right?” Steve asks. His voice is soft, quiet even though there’s no chance of him waking anybody up with how far apart the bedrooms seem to be. “What kind of music do you like?”

It’s the start of a long conversation. Despite the exhaustion in his bones, Eddie lights up. He hasn’t been able to really talk to anybody about music, what it was to him, how it’s kept him going all these years. He talks about his favorite bands, and he talks about Wayne’s, and he talks about his mom’s and he talks about his age-old pipeline dream of making it big. He wonders, openly, if they would have made it in another universe where zombies didn’t tear everything apart.

“I think you would have,” Steve says, all sincerity and seriousness.

They talk and talk and talk and they don’t fall asleep until dawn is peaking through the curtains.

—-

When they do eventually get up, it’s with soft breaths and interlocked hands and heated gazes.

Eddie is staring at Steve and Steve is staring at him and neither of them move. If anything, they hold on even more, unwilling to break this bubble they’ve created for themselves.

Slowly, one of Steve’s hands comes to Eddie’s face, and he pushes a lock of hair behind his ear.

Steve, whose hands are made for wielding nail bats, for bashing in zombie skulls, for protecting the kids that swarm him every time he walks through the door. Steve, with hands so gentle as he lets Jane paint them, cooks with Joyce, braids Max’s hair.

Steve, whose hands are so impossibly gentle for Eddie as he rests it against Eddie’s cheek.

“I was talking with Hop last night,” Steve tells him. Hopper, the old police chief who found Wayne, kept him safe, kept all of them safe. “I told him you and your uncle should stay. With us, I mean.”

“For how long?” Eddie asks.

“However long you want.”

Eddie places a hand over Steve’s, holding it to his face as he beams at Steve. Steve grins right back at him, and Eddie is blinded by Steve’s warmth as they scoot closer to each other, lips centimeters apart.

“I think I’d like that,” Eddie tells him. “I think I’d like that very much.”

#steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddie #zombie au #zombie apocalypse au #your honor #its love at first sight

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punchdrunkdoc · 23 hours ago

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Part 4, Chapter 10

Summary: After the events of S3, Matt Murdock is trying to once again balance life as a lawyer and a vigilante. But he’s been scarred by loss and betrayal - will a mysterious new neighbour help him heal? Or will her secrets drag him back into the darkness? Notes: This is a slow burn romance with an original female character, told in 4 parts. There is mystery, intrigue, action/violence and angst - all the good stuff!

Also available on AO3 and Wattpad

Masterlist

Reference pics

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PART 4

Chapter 10

July 2021

Over 3 years since the Vanishing

Karen hurried through the cemetery, cursing under her breath. She’d meant to be here half an hour ago, but her little passenger had other ideas this morning - ones that involved being crouched over a toilet puking her guts out.

Karen pressed her hand over her lower abdomen as she flitted between headstones, still not used to the fact that she was pregnant - even though the morning sickness, tender breasts and hormone swings were providing ample evidence.

She eventually spied Calina - standing tall and alone beside a freshly-covered grave - and swore at herself again for missing the ceremony.

Calina glanced up as Karen arrived, and frowned. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, that’s a lovely welcome.”

Calina smiled. “Sorry, I’m just surprised. You didn’t have to come.”

“I wanted to be here for you. Well, that was the plan anyway. I’m sorry I’m late.”

“It’s okay. You didn’t really miss anything. Alma didn’t have any family in New York, so it was just me and the priest.”

Karen looked at the gravestone, noting the simple inscription.

Alma Schneider 1940 - 2021 Liebevolle Mutter

“What does the inscription say?”

“‘Loving mother’.”

Loving mother. Karen pressed her hand against her abdomen again, covering the little spark of life within. Those two words held a lot more resonance now than they did just a few months ago. “Did you chose that?” she asked.

Calina nodded. “She only moved to this country to be with her daughter, so I thought it summed up who she was. And now she’s with her daughter again. I know that would make her happy.”

“Do you believe in that?” Karen asked, surprised. “An afterlife?”

Calina shrugged. “Alma believed that. That’s enough for me.”

“And how are you doing? I know you were close to her, so this must have been a shock.” It was the main reason Karen had decided to come today. She was so worried about how Calina would cope with yet another loss from her life, terrified that it might tip her over the edge…

Calina just shrugged again. “I’m okay. I only knew her a short time. And I didn’t really keep in touch with her after I left New York.”

Karen studied her friend, gauging the truth of her words. Surprisingly…she did look okay. Better than okay, actually. She looked good.

The last time she’d seen Calina in person had been after her panic attack last year. She’d seemed frail back then. Thin and gaunt and fragile, and it had scared the hell out of Karen. They’d spoken a lot on the phone since then, and Calina had sounded like she was doing better, but it was such a relief to see that with her own eyes.

She looked healthy now. Strong. She’d put on weight and the dark circles under her eyes were gone. She looked like the Calina she remembered from before.

The knot of worry that Karen had been carrying for the past year eased, and she smiled at the other woman. “Let’s go get something to eat. We have a lot to catch up on.”

———

“Pregnant? Really?”

Karen felt her smile stretch. “Yup. It’s still early - I’m not quite out of the first trimester - but I wanted you to know. You’re my closest friend, after all.”

Calina matched her smile. “You’re mine too. And I think you’re going to be a great mom.”

“I hope so. I sometimes worry I’m being selfish, bringing a child into this world.”

It hadn’t been a planned pregnancy, by any stretch. Just a consequence of taking birth control with a 1% failure rate. But it still felt like a gift. One that she and David should - and would - cherish. But sometimes she wondered if it was cruel to subject a child to this world - a world so different from the one she was born into.

“You’re not being selfish. You’re being hopeful. The world isn’t always going to be like this - there are so many people working to make it a better place.”

“Like the Black Widows.”

Calina waved off the compliment. “We’re just one small part. I see all the time how much the humanitarian organisations are helping, and even just individual communities and people. We may have lost Matt, and Hell’s Kitchen may have lost it’s Daredevil, but there are people like that all over the world trying to make their little slice of it better.”

Karen stared at her friend in astonishment. “Who are you, and what have you done with Calina?”

“What?” Calina laughed.

“The last time I saw you, you were so pessimistic about the world. You called it ugly, and wanted nothing more than to escape it. What changed?”

Calina sipped on her coffee as she seemed to think about her answer. “Time, I guess. And the therapy sessions.”

“That’s good. So you’re really feeling better?” Karen could hear the concern in her voice, as well as the plaintive hope.

“Yes. I feel good,” Calina confirmed, before taking a bite of her sandwich.

Her appetite showed obvious improvement. Her skin had a healthy glow. She’d smiled more today than Karen could remember seeing over the past two years…and the biggest evidence that she really was better was her off-hand comment about Matt.

Nothing had been off-hand about Matt since he’d disappeared. Whenever Calina mentioned him - which she rarely did - she’d stumble over his name, as if the very sound of it pained her. And she could barely talk about him without tears forming in her eyes.

There was none of that today. And it made Karen realise that Calina really was going to be okay. She swallowed harshly, and ducked her head to hide her relieved tears.

“Are you okay?” Calina asked, not missing a thing.

“Yes,” she smiled shakily. “Just hormones.”

———

March 2022

Almost 4 years since the Vanishing

Calina stroked the back of her finger down the baby’s cheek, marvelling at the incredibly soft skin. At the perfectly formed ears, and the tiny cupid’s bow of her lip, and the veins she could see running across delicate eyelids, which fluttered as little Isabelle dreamed.

“She’s beautiful,” Calina whispered, afraid to wake the sleeping bundle in her arms.

“I think so,” Karen replied. “But I might be biased.”

Calina had never held a baby before - which was obvious to Karen as soon as she’d passed her squirming daughter over. Calina had sat stiffly on the sofa, not moving an inch, and Karen had laughed at the sight. “You won’t break her. Just relax.”

“She’s going to cry.”

“She’s not going to cry. She can tell that you’re nervous, so she’s feeling unsettled. If you relax, she will too.”

Calina had carefully settled her weight against the cushions, barely breathing as Isabelle wriggled a bit more, then slowly drifted off to sleep. Now Calina never wanted to let her go. And she regretted the time she’d missed with her. “I’m sorry I couldn’t get here sooner. We’ve been in Argentina under radio silence and-”

“It’s fine, I understand. Besides, you haven’t missed much.”

“Are you sure? I feel like I missed a lot.”

“Not really. For the first 6 weeks, she was pretty much just a lump that slept, ate and cried. Now she actually smiles and giggles - it’s the cutest thing. And she’s starting to show interest in the world around her—”

“I wasn’t talking about Izzy. I was talking about David.”

“Oh. That.”

“Yes, that. You said you were having trouble recently, but I didn’t expect to come here and find your husband gone. What happened?”

Karen collapsed back into her seat and sighed heavily. “Vanishing Sickness.”

“What the hell is that?”

“It’s the term they’ve come up with. On social media. It’s supposedly a combination of survivor’s guilt, depression, and a kind of intense melancholic homesickness. But not for a place - for a time. For how the world used to be.”

“And David has this?”

“Self-diagnosed,” Calina said, her voice sceptical. “And maybe he’s right…but it just felt to me that he couldn’t accept being happy. He couldn’t bring himself to properly move on and build a new life after losing his family.”

“But you’re his family now.”

“I tried to tell him that. To convince him of that. I went to counselling with him. Encouraged him to start the anti-depressants his doctor prescribed, but nothing worked. He couldn’t get passed what he’d lost.” Karen looked down, and picked at the threads in the cushion on her lap. “He started pulling away from me soon after I found out I was pregnant. I tried to ignore it - I just put it down to nerves about impending fatherhood. But after Izzy was born, he just…he didn’t want much to do with her. And then last month, he packed up his stuff and left. Said it was all too hard, and he couldn’t handle it.”

Karen looked away, and Calina could see her blinking back tears.

“I’m so sorry.”

Karen shrugged. “It is what it is. Maybe I should have fought harder for us. Or been more sympathetic - but it’s not like I didn’t lose people too. And I had Izzy to think about. She needed me more than he did.”

“I’m still sorry. I hate that you’re having to do this alone.”

“I’m not—” Karen pinched her lips shut, as if she’d let something slip.

“What were you going to say?”

“Nothing.”

“Karen…”

“Okay,” Karen relented with another deep sigh. “Soon after David left, I started noticing things. Around the house.”

“What things?”

“The broken porch light was suddenly fixed. The banging noise in my car that I kept meaning to see a mechanic about was suddenly gone. There was a new lock on my garden gate…that sort of thing.”

“Someone was taking care of you. A mystery good samaritan.”

“He didn’t stay a mystery for long. I caught him in the act a couple of weeks ago. I came home early from the grocery store - I’d forgotten my purse - and I found him up on my roof replacing a broken shingle. You should have seen the look on his face when he realised he was busted.” Karen smiled, as if reliving the memory.

“But who was it?” Calina leaned forward, as much as the baby allowed, intrigued by the story.

“A man I once knew. Frank Castle.”

“An old boyfriend?”

“No…”

“You don’t seem sure of that,” Calina laughed.

“No. I am. We were never together like…that. We just…I…,” Karen shook her head and laughed. “Me and Frank…it’s hard to distill into a few words. I don’t know where to start.”

“The beginning’s usually a good place.”

Karen smiled ruefully. “It’s kind of a long story…”

Calina gestured to the sleeping baby in her arms and the quietly snoring dog stretched over her feet. “I’m not going anywhere.”

———

“Wow,” Calina breathed, after Karen recounted her various encounters with Frank Castle. “That all sounds…intense.”

Karen huffed out a laugh. “Yeah, you could say that. Intense, dangerous, terrifying…”

“But, you care about him. Despite all that.” Calina could tell by the way Karen spoke about him.

“I do. I was always able to see through to the real him. The rest of the world just saw this unhinged, violent and angry murderer, but he was always more than that to me. He let me see more than that. He let me see the hurt and the pain that was fuelling him. God, he was in so much pain.”

“He lost everyone he loved in an instant.” Calina knew that pain well. Far too well.

“He did,” Karen agreed. “And it broke something in him. The last time I saw him… The last time I saw him I really thought it would be the last time. He was so convinced there was no light at the end of the tunnel for him. And he wanted me out of his life, to protect me. To stop me from throwing everything away for him. I practically begged him to let himself love someone else instead of another war…”

“And what did he say?”

“That he didn’t want to.” Karen’s voice broke, as if reliving the hurt of that rejection.

“What about now?”

Karen shrugged. “He’s…different. I don’t know if he just needed time, or if the Vanishing made him re-evaluate his life. Whatever it was, he decided it was safe for him to be a part of my life. And he decided that he wanted to be.”

“So you’re…together?”

Karen laughed. “I have no idea what we are. At the moment, he’s just helping out. Visiting every few days to see me and Izzy. But it’s enough. I’m happy he’s back in my life.”

“I am too. For your sake. I’m glad you’re not alone.”

“Me too.” Karen punctuated her statement with a yawn. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. You must be exhausted looking after a newborn.” Calina could see the dark circles under Karen’s eyes, and she seemed a little worn at the edges. But despite that, there was a contented aura surrounding her. As if she was exactly where she wanted to be, doing exactly what what she was meant to be doing. “Why don’t you go upstairs and get some sleep. I can look after Izzy.”

“You just got here. I don’t want to sleep through your visit.”

“I was actually planning to stay for a while. I have a week’s leave built up, so I was going to spend it here, helping you out. If you’ll have me.” She nodded to Nika sleeping on the floor. “Well, us.”

Karen smiled. “That would be…honestly, that would be amazing. If you’re sure? A screaming baby at 3 in the morning is hardly relaxing vacation time.”

“It’s relaxing compared to my normal life, believe me.”

———

Later than night, Karen showed her where all the baby stuff was, talked her through changing a diaper and warming up some milk in case Izzy started crying, then she headed upstairs to bed - after much coaxing and reassurance on Calina's part. “Last year I negotiated a hostage release with a Yakuza boss while dodging sniper-fire from a helicopter. I think I can manage one tiny baby,” Calina joked.

“Let me know if you feel the same after your first dirty diaper.”

Calina laughed and shooed Karen upstairs. Then she settled back down onto the sofa, Izzy once again in her arms. This time, the little girl was awake, staring up at Calina with big blue eyes. “Hi there,” Calina whispered.

Nika - also awake now - jumped up on the couch, curious about the little human. She sniffed at Izzy’s feet and tried to get closer. Calina stopped her and gave her the command to lie down. Nika obeyed with a whine. “I know. But you’ll have to wait for her to get a bit bigger before you play with her.”

“Would you like that?” Calina asked the baby. “Having a dog to play with when you get older? I’m sure you two will be the best of friends.”

Izzy gurgled as if in response. Then she smiled. And it caused something in Calina’s heart to clench.

“Thank God,” Calina breathed. She’d been so worried that the serum would prevent her from forming a bond with this baby - her best friend’s precious child. But she felt something. Even if it was muted - a mere shadow of what it should be - she felt something.

And it was the first thing she’d felt in months.

Her emotions were all still there - and if she really, really focussed she could probably reach them. But she didn’t want to do that. She was content for them to remain distant. A swirling maelstrom, held at bay by the chemicals she was injecting on a regular basis.

She’d once stood at her bedroom window, in the Widow’s base in Maine, and watched a storm unfurl over the harbour. The clouds had darkened, blotting out the light. Fierce winds had swirled over the water, forming rough choppy waves that battered against the moored fishing boats. Rain had lashed down, and lightening had forked through the bruised sky. But Calina had been protected from it all. The thin pane of glass of her window had blocked it all. None of the rain or the wind or the noise had reached her, as she’d watched from her protected vantage point.

That’s how the serum felt to her. She was protected. Safe and untouched behind a glass wall, even as her emotions raged and stormed in the distance.

And nobody had any idea. She’d managed to keep the secret of the serum and how it was affecting her from her sisters. From Dr Gossard. And from Karen. As long as she smiled when she was supposed to. Laughed or frowned on cue. Looked angry or upset when needed…nobody suspected.

She was still putting on an act. Still pretending.

But it was so much easier to pretend to feel, than to pretend your feelings weren’t tearing you apart from the inside out.

———

January 2023

Almost five years since the Vanishing

Calina let herself into Karen’s back garden and gave her companion the command to stand down. Nika took off running around the yard, yipping happily at the birds milling around the water feature, the highly trained and focused dog turning into an overgrown puppy in the blink of an eye.

“I’m here,” Calina called out, stepping through the back door. “Sorry I’m late.”

She stopped short at the sight of a strange man in her friend’s kitchen. Her hand went automatically to her thigh where her gun would be holstered if she was in her Widow’s suit. The man’s eyes clocked the movement, and he frowned as he measured her up.

He looked battle-hardened, his dark eyes flat and emotionless beneath his heavy brow. There was coiled tension in his frame, the muscles in his forearm cording as he clenched one of his fists. The air around him seemed to crackle with barely constrained violence.

He shifted on his feet. Calina readied her stance…

“I see you two have met,” Karen said.

The tense atmosphere evaporated with that wry comment. Calina took a breath, and the man…changed completely. His mask-like expression dissolved into a smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling. And his gaze warmed as he turned towards the woman in the doorway.

Karen stepped into the room carrying Izzy in her arms. “Frank, this is Calina. Calina, this is Frank. Please try not to kill each other.”

On spotting Calina, Izzy squealed with joy and held out her arms. Calina took the little girl and nuzzled her cheek. “Hey, birthday girl.”

Off in the corner, Frank leaned over to whisper something in Karen’s ear.

“You don’t have to,” Karen replied, putting her hand on his chest.

“It’s fine. I’ll let you two catch up.”

He pressed a kiss to Karen’s cheek. As they broke apart, they stared into each other’s eyes, their bodies swaying towards each other, and their connection so palpable it made Calina want to look away.

“Fank!” Izzy yelled out, breaking the spell.

“I haven’t forgotten you, munchkin,” he replied, obviously used to Izzy’s imperious commands. He kissed her pudgy hand and smoothed the wisps of blond hair on the top of her head. “Be good for your mom.”

“I’ll see ya round,” he said to Calina, nodding at her as he stepped into the backyard.

Karen and Calina watched from the window as he greeted Nika. “Hey, girl,” he crooned as he crouched down to ruffle the fur of her neck and scratch behind her ears.

“So he’s a bit of a charmer?” Calina commented, speaking over Nika’s happy noises and Frank’s gruff laugh.

Karen smiled. “In his own way.”

They continued to watch as he made his way to the bottom of the garden and out the gate. Just before it latched behind him, Calina caught a change in him again. The gentle, smiling man who’d kissed Karen was gone. The slightly awkward man - who could barely meet Calina’s eyes while saying goodbye to her - was also gone; he was once again the alert and wary soldier, his expression hard and impenetrable.

———

Later that night - after Izzy wore herself out playing with her new toys and romping around the backyard with Nika - Karen settled her into bed. Then Karen and Calina took up their usual spots on the chairs outside, both huddled under blankets and clutching hot drinks to stave off the icy chill in the air.

Karen gestured to the dog, sleeping peacefully on the cold ground. “Nika’s part husky - she’s bred for winter outdoors. What’s our excuse?”

“Tradition?” Calina suggested.

“Stupidity?” Karen countered.

They both laughed.

“So…Frank,” Calina said, broaching the subject she’d been itching to return to all day.

“What about Frank?”

“Things seem to be going well with you two.”

“Yeah.” Karen smiled as she stared into her mug. “It’s funny. With David, I couldn’t accept the scraps he was willing to give me. I felt like, if he couldn’t step up and be a decent husband and father then him leaving was for the best. But with Frank, it sometimes feels like scraps are all he has to offer, and I don’t care. I accept them gladly. And maybe that makes me a hypocrite or a bad feminist or like I have no self esteem, but I just…”

“You love him.” Calina may have been cut off from her emotions, but Karen’s were plain to see - she lit up every time she mentioned Frank’s name. And Calina may have only been around Frank for a matter of minutes, but his feelings had been pretty clear too. “And he loves you.”

Karen sighed. “Which is both a blessing and a curse.”

“What do you mean?”

“I read a quote once. Back in high school, I think. It always stuck with me. And when I met Frank, it finally made sense. ’Then I understood the true fate of Orpheus, that-”

“‘Love is a constant terror of loss.’” Calina finished, recognising the Polish poem.

“I don’t know if Frank will ever be able to get past that terror. To let himself be a part of a family again. But I love him. For who he is, not who I want him to be. And I think that was the problem with David. I never loved him enough. I…I think I settled for him. I saw someone easy. Uncomplicated. And I thought that was what I wanted.”

“But it turns out you really want difficult and complicated.”

“Yeah,” Karen laughed. “I guess so.”

“Well I’m happy if you’re happy. I just don’t get why you’re always so cagey about you and Frank on the phone.”

Karen shrugged. “I guess I’m used to hiding how I feel about him. Foggy and Matt never understood. God, Matt especially. I think he’d be horrified at the idea of us together.”

“Matt was always too judgemental.”

Karen looked taken aback.

“What?” Calina asked.

Karen shook her head. “Sorry, I just never thought I’d hear you talk about him like that. I always worried you had him up on some sort of pedestal.”

“No. I knew he wasn’t perfect. I guess we both have a weakness for violent, imperfect and complicated vigilantes.”

Karen raised her mug, and toasted the sentiment. “To complicated vigilantes.”

Calina lifted her own mug, before taking a sip of the hot chocolate.

“What about now?” Karen asked, almost hesitantly.

“What?”

“Is there…anyone in your life?”

“Complicated vigilantes don’t exactly grow on trees,” Calina joked, trying to steer Karen away from that topic.

“I’m serious.”

Calina sighed. “No. There’s no one.”

“Has there been anyone? Since Matt?”

“No.”

“Not even a one night stand? It’s been over 4 years…”

And for the first two of those, I’d been a wreck, Calina thought. She’d never even entertained the thought of being with someone else back then. She’d spent all her time and energy just trying to hold herself together.

And now…the serum basically eliminated any and all feelings of desire or arousal. She didn’t want anything. She didn’t yearn for anything or anyone. She didn’t find pleasure in food. She wasn’t moved by art or literature.

She didn’t dream anymore.

And that was fine. It was a trade-off she was willing to make.

But she couldn’t admit any of that to Karen. So she gave her friend a different truth - one equally as valid. Because Calina suspected that even without the serum, she would still be alone. “Before Matt, sex never used to mean anything to me.”

“But Calina,” Karen said, her voice gentle. “Honey, that wasn’t sex. When you were a Widow…before, on those missions…it wasn’t sex. It was a form of rape.”

Calina flinched at the word, a visceral reaction that seemed to bypass her emotionless state - as if her body remembered, even if her mind was still somewhat in denial. “Regardless, it shaped the way I approach sex now,” Calina explained. “It’s not just some…bodily function to me. Mindless pleasure for the sake of pleasure. I need something more. I need a connection with the other person. It has to mean something. For me to give myself over to someone…it has to mean something, like it did with Matt. But I don’t think I’ll ever find that with anyone else.”

“You don’t know that. Matt wouldn’t want you to be alone forever, mourning him.”

“It’s not about that. I just don’t think I’m cut out for a relationship. If I couldn’t make it work with Matt…” Calina shrugged.

“What are you talking about? It was working. It was only because of Thanos—”

“We had a fight,” Calina interrupted, needing her friend to understand - so they could finish this conversation and never return to it. “Just before Matt disappeared, we had a massive fight.”

“But you guys always made up—”

“This felt different. It brought to the surface the fundamental problems with our relationship.”

“Which were…?”

“He never trusted me—”

“Calina-”

“And I never felt worthy of him,” Calina finished.

One benefit of the serum was that she was able to dispassionately evaluate her relationship with Matt. Without her feelings clouding her judgement and colouring her memories, she could look back and see the truth of what they were.

Their connection had been intense. Wonderful. And life-altering - in more ways than one. But she’d been fooling herself the entire time. They never would have stayed the course.

“It’s like a catch-22 thing,” Calina explained. “If a man is able to accept my past, and who I am and what I’ve done - and he loves me anyway - then that just proves he’s too good for me. Which means it would never work out between us. And if he can’t accept who I am, then it also wouldn’t work out. So either way, I’m on my own.”

Karen frowned, and studied her like she used to do when she was worried about her mental state. Calina replayed the conversation in her head and realised her mask had slipped - she’d been a little too dispassionate. A little too glib and analytical in her responses.

Karen would expect her to be upset by her conclusions. To feel pain or regret. To feel something. Instead she’d spoke about her relationship with Matt - and the prospect of being alone forever - with all the emotion of a chat about the weather.

Shit.

“Calina, is everything okay?” Karen asked, still looking at her with concern. “Are you okay? Really?”

“I- I’m fine,” Calina replied, injecting a slight stutter into her words, trying to make herself sound more human. “I think I’m just tired. Can we not talk about this anymore?” She forced a note of sadness into her voice. Then blinked a few times and looked away, as if trying to hold back tears.

It was a stellar performance. A masterclass in manipulation.

The Red Room had trained her well, after all.

“Yes, of course,” Karen said, sounding guilty.

And Calina felt an echo of that guilt, a hint of it seeping through that pane of glass.

Just a hint…but enough to make her feel like the worst person in the world.

-------

Chapter 11 is coming soon...and that's where we'll be catching up to present time. Who's excited??

And please forgive me for indulging my Kastle shipper heart. What can I say? They deserve a happy ever after too.

Tag list: @hollandorks @stilldreaming666 @sio-ina-bottle @tearoseart-blog @acharliecoxedfan @freckledbabyyy @chezagnes

If you’d like to be added - let me know!

#daredevil #daredevil fic #daredevil fanfic #tabula rasa #daredevil fanfiction #daredevil x original female character #matt murdock #marvel's daredevil #matt murdock fanfic #matt murdock x oc

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ava-is-up-to-something · 2 years ago

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Okay so I did Demeter and Demophoon/Isis at Byblos with eldritch horror gods.

#A few of these would be actually terrifying #mythology #greek mythology #norse mythology #egyptian mythology #mesopotamian mythology #phoenician mythology #canaanite mythology #ancient egypt stuff #ava has thoughts

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screwpinecaprice · 1 month ago

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Oh oof I slipped and hit them with dark and serious beam. 😣

#connverse #Connie Maheswaran #Steven Quartz Universe #Steven Universe #This had been WIP for almost a year and has been edited a bit some days ago #I did not pick up on it now to see if I can edit further though. I'm just going to leave this at that #This was inspired by a dream I had about watching a post-apocalyptic(?) anime movie about two survivors going through their lives #Apologies if that one was yapped before in this blog. Trying to keep repeating statements already mentioned before is a habit I hope to avo #Anyway. It was almost a dialogue-less movie. actually not sure if the characters did say anything #The movie doesn't explain stuff to you. You just got dropped in a world and experience with the main characters for a few days #In the dream after watching that movie I went to Tumblr (naturally. Lol) and theories about it popped out #And there was a connverse cross-over fanart of it. Lmao #One of the main characters was EXTREMELY calm and stoic. And the connverse AU version of it was that's because Steven is in a comma and his #Pink mode activated as a defense mechanism against the creatures around while in such a state. 😭 So Pink Steven from Change Your Mind #And like. Oh? What if he's conscious? He's just watching his body have a mind of it's own and he can't control it? That's kinda terrifying #And of course like most of my dreams about shows I enjoy. I woke up before I could dream more about it. 😵#my shiz #skedoobles #SU #SU AU #also implied Pink Steven I guess #pink Steven #I rage-stopped drawing this because I know what needed to be fixing but the fixing I've been doing isn't fixing it. Lol #I'm specially frustrated with Connie's bangs and eyes. And like. Man. I'm just going to stop it right there before I make it worse.#It does make sense she has a bad haircut given the dream's setting. But it was not decided that was exactly what this drawing is about.#Also I'd imagine Steven to be having a full beard if that was the case.#Anyway enough yapping I have to get some sleep. Lol #Ohmygod just realizeddd. the in-dream movie sounded like I was describing 'Angel's Egg' jshsjajdbdjfbskkd Haven't seen that film in a while #My dream's movie had a Studio Ghibli artstyle and pretty colorful. But I would actually really like the somber vibes in Angel's Egg #for this AU though. 🤔🤩🤩

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edwinisms · 10 months ago

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seriously wondering why WW1 was never brought up at all throughout the show in regards to edwin and the life he was living before hell. I mean fuck we get a WW1 ghost in the FIRST EPISODE but edwin doesn’t say a single thing about his familiarity with the soldier’s garments and circumstances. you’d think that would come in handy in some way, or at least be an interesting thing to reference to emphasize edwin’s age (for lack of a better word) considering this was all during the expository section of the first episode.

1916 is directly in the middle of the Great War, and depending on how long edwin had been 16 by the time he died, he would’ve been somewhere between 1-2 years off from being conscripted and sent off to the trenches– ie; really not far, so it inevitably would be a huge weight on his mind at the time. since it was the middle of the war, he would’ve known decently well the horrors being faced out there– the mustard gas, the widespread illness, the shellshock– from newspapers and such, and I have to think that he’d feel like there was a clock ticking, counting down the days until he’d be sent to his inevitable death (considering he’s not the most athletic and physically resilient boy to say the least). and if he was exempted from conscription? it could very well be for “mental illness” and/or “moral indecency” if he didn’t hide his “effeminate” behavior well enough. all-around, it’d have to be an incredibly stressful time period for more reasons than just being bullied, alienated, and repressed at school– and yet we never hear about the elephant in the room. will they do something with it later? will it play into his family background in some way? for gods sake I need to KNOW

#dead boy detectives #edwin payne #I have a lotttttt of thoughts about this #do you think. while sitting in the office next to charles one snowed-in night. charles would ask him about the war. and he’d actually let #his guard down and lean into him and express that it was something so terrifying looming over his head that all he could do was pray it’d #end or pretend nothing was happening for as long as he could get away with it– which would be difficult for a lot of reasons.#do you think he’d admit that in his studies the past few decades being dead he’d come across names of wartime martyrs he recognized as #classmates of his. and felt something about how so many of them– like himself– didn’t make it to true adulthood #sure he didn’t like his classmates very much on average but. it’d still take a toll on him to think about.#he could’ve seen a few names come up when searching for the identity of the gas mask ghost in episode 1 even. knowing edwin though I doubt #he’d point it out. at least not until he was alone with charles and felt safe and comfortable enough to do so.#aaaaaaaaaaanyway…………….hoo boy #rambling

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polysyndetonaddictsupportgroup · 1 month ago

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did every hero really follow endeavor's plan during the jail break? I've never watched bnha, but I always figured there were more heros then Japan knew what do with. Was endeavor really just that worried about how the fight again AFO would go? and did AFO have the league with him? or other prison escapees? Given eraserhead was so entrenched?

As a preliminary matter--yes, it was way more than AfO. The League basically did what they did during the USJ arc and subcontracted their violent attacks. They needed a big force to first get AfO and everyone else out of Tartarus, and then they made it very clear (via loudspeaker and also fucking tweet) that they would all be very peacefully retreating while all those criminally insane and violent motherfuckers went that other direction. Ball's in your court as to how you want to tackle it.

AfO was the biggest threat, by fucking far, but it was far from isolated to him. It was the entire League of Villains + Their Very Special Friends. It was the kind of force that would be required to make the entirety of Tartarus fall for the first time in history. So the heroes had plenty to keep them busy.

And as to whether Endeavor was that scared about the next fight with AfO... Yeah.

I think bnha does a good job at establishing that All Might and AfO just exist at entirely different levels than every other person alive. Their fight leveled a decent chunk of Kamino. And I think that's kind of power and devastation is hard to conceptualize as like, people in a world where we don't have to worry about superhero fights. (as a side note--Sukuna's Big Fight in the Shibuya arc from JJK did better than any other fight in media to really capture the sheer cosmic horror of being caught as a bystander in one of those fights).

But endeavor saw it. He was there for AfO’s and All Might’s last fight. The gods were fighting. Everyone else was just an ant.

He is facing the villain that ultimately took down All Might. All Might won Kamino, sure. But he didn't get up again after. He was permanently and irreversibly taken out of play. And Endeavor has spent the last year feeling like he was struggling to be even half of what All Might was with two hours of productivity a day. He was so consistently voted to not be able to compare to All Might that he bought a wife and had four kids about it, all of whom hate him actively.

He does not think he is winning this fight. He is Japan's number one hero. The responsibility is going to fall to Midoriya Izuku to him. He is the best they have left, and the fight that would be coming was one that already nearly killed All Might, the one guy he has never ever been able to compare to. And when he really looked himself in the mirror and asked if he could stop AfO, the answer was no.

And it wouldn't just be AfO if he came back to power. It would be his followers--and he was liable to get more than just the current League of Villains roster. It would mean more Nomus. They could barely handle one Nomu--how could they possibly handle the Nomus, and the LoV, and AfO?

And the answer that he came to was that they couldn't. Not without All Might.

He thought he was sacrificing Yokohama for every single other city AfO was going to level if he had time to grow in strength again. He thought that if they threw absolutely everything they had at him while he was weak, then maybe they could contain him and the League before entire cities fell.

So. That's why he came to that decision. Why did every hero fall into line?

So what’s key to what happened here was it was this complete structural breakdown at exactly the wrong time.

Structural Flaw #1: Transportation

Was it every hero in Japan that responded to Endeavor’s order? No. But not every hero in Japan was available. Any heroes out of the immediate area were too far away to do shit.

But it's a massive crisis. Heroes would commute from all over if they could--but it's not about desire, it's about time and resources. With how imminently emergent the threat was, a lot of far-away heroes would need something like a jet to even conceivably get there in time.

Who is sending the jet?

Let's pin down what heroes could, conceivably, get there in time. Very few heroes are in walking distance. How do heroes typically get from Point A to Point B?

Hero society in bnha is an agency model. There is no communal pool of resources--you have what your agency has. You have a jet to transport you if your agency has the money for one, and I’m pretty sure only all might had that (he has since had it dismantled and the parts repurposed for the sake of the environment. He only had it to begin with so he could quickly respond to imminent threats. All Might thinks there's more than one way to save the world and saving the environment is part of it). Like. We even saw Endeavor flying fucking commercial.

But let's just assume, arguendo, that some agencies have jets. It would have to be the very top agencies to possibly afford it.

All of whom are shown in canon to mostly operate out of the same area. So they're going to have to send the jet somewhere else to get more heroes. Now any travel time is doubled. If they do send it out, how many people are they realistically getting? Are these heroes in multiple different cities? That's more travel time then. Maybe we just land the plane in Kyoto and whoever gets on in the twenty minute period while they're refueling is who is coming back. We'll hand them parachutes and kick them out the plane door over Yokohama. Okay. Good plan. Go team.

Who is sending the jet?

Like, who is physically making the call to send the jet? Who do they call? Do they just start ringing around their buddies and seeing if they have other plans? The city is on fucking fire and we need people fighting now, so the big name heroes don't have time to organize transport with other agencies. They’re not even thinking of that right now. Make it a sidekick's job.

They are all on fucking strike.

Fuck it. Fine. Make it an admin's job. There has to be some kind of office staff who can work a telephone who's available.

Who is thinking to send the jet?

Admins are not making strategic calls about where the company jets go. There would have to be some kind of protocol in place or someone with the authority to send the jet would have to think of it in the moment. And I guarantee you this would not be the case.

Because this is a society where they have canonically semi-privatized public safety and put people in direct competition with each other over it.

ASIDE: The Economic Structure of Heroics and Why It Sucks

I have an economic structure. You must listen to it. I promise it is relevant. This is why it takes me forever to do things it's because i get too deep into the weeds and have to explain the fucking economic structures underpinning the analysis for my nonsense to make sense.

How the fuck do heroes get paid?

I have no idea if canon ever tells us because to be so for real with you guys I have not watched this show in years. I haven’t cared about canon since the Shie Hassaikai arc. The fucking YouTuber arc broke me. I literally never watched it again. If they ever explain to us how heroes get paid I do not know and I do not care. I refuse to go back to canon. Everything I found out about canon after the Shie Hassaikai arc, I learned against my will. The ending to this story was so fucking stupid and I only have a scattered knowledge of the details but I’m still right. If canon ever tries to explain it then please do not tell me, I refuse to learn more things about this show.

But I still like poking around the potential economic structures based on the part of canon that doesn’t cause me psychic damage. So here’s the thought process for the economic underpinnings of hero society in the pez universe.

From canon, we know it can be an enormously lucrative profession, we know that it involves some degree of private interests (re: merch lines), and we know that there are some people who cannot have merch lines (Underground Heroes, e.g. Eraserhead), so there also must be some kind of public funding aspect to it as well. So. Who the fuck signs your paycheck?

Sources of Funding

a. Public Funding

There must be some kind of official governmental budget for heroics. Like. They are very much a public service. There would be no way to have a fully private heroics force without government funding. What else are you supposed to do, fucking Venmo heroes after they save you? Do they put your kitten back in the tree if you don’t have enough.

In my mind, there's public funds allocated to heroes as part of a city's budget. That funding is allotted based on the number of employees in a given entity balanced against the confirmed acts of heroics of that same given entity. There’s a base salary level and that can be increased based on how successful you are, but salary isn’t exclusively what this fund is for. The heroic entity (an individual hero or an Agency) is effectively receiving grant money from the government to run their agency. You put it into salaries, gear, office space, everything. The government is basically investing in heroes, and it’s investing more in heroes who are shown to have a greater positive impact on society.

It involves overly complex calculations regarding the scaled difficulty of a given bust/rescue/act and ranking of the villain (if there is one) and the overall public benefit for the service rendered. You get bonuses for having a lower average property damage, for contributing to community building projects, that kind of thing. It is Complex. There is a lot of paperwork that has to be submitted to strange and vaguely threatening government accountants. When Mirio and Izuku start their agency, they will burst into tears multiple times trying to figure it out once filing season rolls around, bundle all the paperwork in a Massive Tears And Shame Package, mail it off to the shadowy powers at be, and then get a perfunctory notice that they are getting a ludicrous amount of the city budget allotted to their dinky little agency for the upcoming fiscal year because they are Big Fucking Heroes and enormously good at what they do and it reflects in their stats. They will then lay on the ground of their haunted fucking office and stare at the ceiling for a very long period of time.

But this puts the heroes in competition with each other. Your public funding is chained to your stats under this model. There's only so many criminals out there--you've got to get the right numbers or it cuts into how much of a slush fund the agency is working with.

It's sort of an insane model for a public servant position, but I think it matches with what canon shows us. Imagine having firefighters pitted against each other. like, having a competitive model for public safety raises extreme concerns about how it incentivizes public servants to act.

But this isn't canon's model. It's my guess as to how canon works based on the hints i can remember and my own mental illness. So why do I think canon suggests a model like this?

It's because 1) canon does establish that heroes are in competition with one another and 2) this kind of model would likely be necessary due to the level of autonomy that heroes have.

The literal first fight we see involves heroes in competition with each other. Kamui Woods is doing a big Ultimate Move, and Mount Lady rushes in and steals the show. Like. that is crazy behavior if we are looking at this through the lens of a typical public servant. Imagine you're trying to get directions from a park ranger and a different park ranger kick flips in with a map and a desperate need for you to get your directions from them instead. You call poison control and they’re beating each other in the head over who gets to tell you you’re dying.

Still, on its own, the competition isn’t dispositive, because the private income streams (we'll get there) would incentivize competition even if public funding wasn't based on it. But the level of autonomy that hero offices exhibit also suggest some kind of competition model.

Heroics agencies are not run like a typical police force or fire station. With most entities that function as first responders, they respond to some kind of centralized force (like 911 call centers) and they have highly regulated resource distribution. Like, police forces are restricted to a specific jurisdiction. Within that jurisdiction they have multiple districts and officers typically stay in their district. They're not going to a different fucking city because they think the crime is cooler there.

But Endeavor does exactly that. He's like "hello, son who hates me. Let's go to Hosu because I want to fuck with the hero killer for street cred. won't you come along. It is non-optional" and todoroki says "i hate you father and will abandon you on our father son trip to set a serial killer on fire with my mind. it will be for mildly gay reasons."

These agencies aren't a centralized public service. They are all just off doing their own thing. They're not responding to specific areas as allotted to them by the city--they just fuck off and do whatever. Like, there's probably some coordination between agencies as to who is covering what patrol, but it likely would be more out of courtesy than formal requirement. People wouldn't step on each other's toes nearly as much if there was more of a structure to this.

Typical public agencies who receive funding in accordance with staffing and budgetary needs have more structure and formality than is exhibited in canon. Heroics Agencies act like they're all independent contractors. They probably function like grant money recipients, where they're all fighting for the same pool of funds. You have to write in and show why you deserve that money when that's the case. They're in competition with each other.

Like, is this definitively the structure in canon? No, of course not. I have no fucking idea what, if anything, canon has going on. But it definitely fits with canon.

b. Private Income Streams

We know from canon that it can't just be public funding. Izuku alone probably paid for the Mighty Agency private jet with how much fucking all might merch he bought. Canonically, heroes have merchandise lines, branding deals, commercials, everything. All Might had fucking movies made about him. Those are all extremely lucrative income streams--and likely where the richest heroes get the biggest brunt of their income.

In order to get this kind of income, you are necessarily in competition with your fellow hero.

Public attention, spending money, screen time, all of it--it's a limited resource. You have to be the person who gets to the fight first, who does the big move, who saves the day. If it's someone else? Then that's another kid buying their action figure instead of yours. Heroics is heavily commoditized in canon, and that inherently invites competition.

2. Distribution of Funds

So now that we have a theory as to where the money comes from, how does it get paid out? Based on canon, it comes down to a structure of (a) Independent/Underground Heroes and (b) Agencies.

a. Independent/Underground Heroes

I can't actually remember if the word "independent" is said in canon or if I came up with it, but I think canon implies its existence. It's basically the same thing as being an underground hero, but you're still a Spotlight hero. I also cannot remember if the underground/spotlight thing is canon or fanon or what I’m sorry I haven’t watched this show in years.

Independents are spotlight heroes without the backing of an agency. They just go out every day with the clothes on their back and a dream. They have no support staff, no back up, and no one to help them if things go sideways.

It is not a popular employment option.

Part of it is because it's that much harder to fund being an independent. Like. Say you're just out of high school and you decide to strike out on your own as independent. You're still spotlight, so you can have a merchandise line, and that'd be a nice income stream while you're just starting out.

How the fuck do you start your own t-shirt line?

How do you make contracts with the manufacturers? How do you make and copyright the design? how do you sell the stupid things? Do you try and get them in Walmart? Do you start an Etsy? Your own website? do you call your mom and cry when you have 500 ugly t-shirts with your face on them that no one wants to buy and they're taking up all the space in your studio apartment.

Agencies have preexisting structures in place to help launch these kinds of options, which is one of the reasons why they're so attractive for baby heroes just starting out. The only reason why Mirio has merchandise is because he decided that he didn't care and didn't need to make merch and Izuku came after him with feverish crack addict energy because he cared and he needed Lemillion merch like. yesterday. All Might ended up getting his agency to start a lemillion line. Mirio gets the profits with a reasonable fee to the Mighty Agency. To this day he suspects that Izuku is 70% of his sales but Izuku denies this fervently, like a liar (he actually has a small but very devoted fanbase who rabidly support him and buy all of his merch. he would cry if he knew this. Still. Izuku is his biggest fan and buys literally every single piece of new merch in triplicate.).

Underground heroes are in the same boat as independents but they don't even have the option of a merch line. They exclusively get public funding unless they're backed by an agency, which none of them are because agencies have a tendency to fuck them and their busts for the sake of the spotlight. All underground heroes are bitter and culturally opposed to agencies.

On that note:

b. Agencies.

This is where by far the most heroes would end up. But an agency is like thirty dudes with the same joint bank account. How does the money get there and get distributed out?

i. Public Funding in an Agency Context

Take the above model. How do you attribute public funds based on personal statistics if there's no single person? Does everyone get their own check? But that wouldn't make sense--this isn't just for salaries, it's for funding the actual heroics itself.

Everyone under the same agency would be counted together for the purposes of funding allotment. If Sidekick A managed 300 busts last year and Sidekick B man managed 350 busts, then congratulations, The Big Hero Hero Agency made 650 busts last year, here's a check made out to the agency, figure out what you want to do with it.

But what about incidents that involve multiple heroes from the same agency? Let's say that The Big Hero Hero Agency is involved in a big bust. It is Sidekick A's baby. They have spent months doing this. This has been blood, sweat, and tears. When the day comes, they are joined by Sidekick B, Sidekick C, and Big Hero himself. Sidekick B has been helping Sidekick A for the past three weeks on this case. Sidekick C got called in the day-of to help.

Big Hero showed up for the last twenty minutes of the fight when they were mostly done with everything.

So. You're filling out the post-arrest paperwork. For funding and for public statistics, you need to make sure to properly account for who gets credit for the bust. It has to be one person--if you had everyone individually credit themselves for the bust, then it looks like you've resolved four incidents instead of one under this financial model. it's artificially inflating your numbers for public funding. that's fraud. Who should get the credit: Sidekick A, Sidekick B, Sidekick C, or Big Hero?

Well, there's nothing stopping Big Hero from writing their own name. So let's go with Big Hero. He helped.

This was one of the big sources of the sidekick strikes: a lot of agencies had an absolute policy of attributing successes to the name hero if they touched the case at all, because there was no rule against it. It was better for the agency, after all--unrealistically high numbers on the biggest name meant the agency as a whole appeared more successful.

So there were a lot of heroes artificially inflating their stats with things that were more properly credited to their sidekicks. Which made it all the harder for sidekicks to leave because their stats were shit because their boss was taking credit for their work.

ii. Private Funding in an Agency Context

But that’s just public funding. How would agencies distribute private income streams?

Big Hero Agency is proud to announce its newest line of Big Hero Action Figures, featuring the Entire Big Hero Team, now retailing for $39.99. Get it now from a store near you.

So. An agency is selling an action figure line featuring Sidekicks A, B, and C, as well as Big Hero himself. We’ll round up to an even $40. How do we split up the cash?

You can’t give everyone each $10. You have to first pay the suppliers, the advertisers, the trucks that shipped the toys to the store, etc. Then you have to pay back into the agency to fund miscellaneous expenses—the stationary, the insurance, the coffee in the fucking break room. Everything. By the end, there’s only $4 of profit left over. Not great, but hey—they’re selling a lot of toys. So if they each get a $1, then it should add up quick.

Right. But. If you think about it, people are only really buying it for Big Hero. He’s the best hero of all of them—his name is on the agency, and just look at how much higher his stats are. So it’s only fair that he gets $3.70 a toy and the rest of them can get $.10 apiece. Don’t worry, it’ll add up quick.

Not all agencies would have been like this. But a lot of them would be. Money is a hell if an incentive to screw people.

END OF ASIDE.

With all that in mind—why would they feasibly have a structure to fly in help from other heroes far away? That’s their fucking competition. Sure, we have team ups, but they’re all either well in advance or in the heat of a moment. If they are in the heat of a moment, half the time the heroes resent it because they just stole their fight. They’re gonna what—pay the exorbitant jet fees to fly in someone who’s just going to steal their hard work in the eyes of the public?

Okay, but what about situations like this? Massive emergencies where you need more people?

Those haven’t ever happened before. They had All Might.

So. The heroes on the ground calling in help are out. What about the heroes who are close enough to make it there by ground transport? No one calls them, they just show up out of public need. How are they getting there?

Trains are out. All the trains into the area are shut the fuck down. We are not giving the freshly escaped villains a bullet train to the rest of the country. Same thing for buses. No fucking bus driver is making their regular route into a fucking battleground.

Private transportation it is. Anything more than a few hours out of the area is completely out of the question. Like, good ol’ Manuel from Hosu City and all his buddies? Not making it. The wild wild pussycats? Watched this on TV from their mountain home. Gran Torino? On FaceTime with All Might, who is watching the fight with Midoriya Inko’s hand gripped in his left and Bakugou Mitsuki’s hand gripped in his right. Gang Orca? Twelve hours away and on a fucking island so he needs a boat AND a car to get there. Or he just fucking swims.

But there has to be at least some hero that saw this happening and heroically climbed in their Mazda sedan to make the three hour car trip. Why didn’t they go to the fight in Yokohama instead of the one against AfO?

Frankly at that point those literal children were visibly doing way better than the actual heroes were faring and any heroes showing up went where they were most needed and uh. It wasn’t by the kids.

If we have the agency model as given to us by canon, then that means there is a decentralization of resources. If you want to utilize your public defense force in the case of emergencies, then you need a way to fucking get them to the emergency. Canon does not have that. This is a huge structural failing that only wasn’t a disaster sooner because most emergencies required one guy and he had his own private jet. So most heroes in the country never had to even consider if they would listen to Endeavor’s order because they were completely cut off and useless at the time.

So. Now the analysis has been narrowed from all of Japan’s heroes to just the ones in the immediate vicinity of the fight. That’s still a fuck ton of heroes. This is a heavily populated area with a bunch of heroes around. You can’t go outside without tripping over a hero.

Most of those guys were on fucking strike.

Structural Flaw #2: Over-Reliance on and Abuse of Sidekicks.

The vast majority of the workforce had to be sidekicks. Like, just from a business model perspective. Even the smallest agencies we saw had 2-3 sidekicks. Endeavor’s agency had at least double digits, and I think Idaten was at over a hundred or something. We were probably looking at, conservatively, a 1:10 ratio of heroes to sidekicks.

All those guys are on strike.

Okay. But not all of them, right? Idaten already settled and got their sidekicks back. That’s like a hundred guys.

Except the Strike was not isolated to the Tokyo/Mustufasa/Yokohama area. Idaten sent out a lot of their sidekicks to other regions to help alleviate some of the strains of the strike. (As a note, this was not the Idaten sidekicks crossing the picket line. Them picking up the slack for other sidekicks still striking would have helped minimize effects on the public. However, the agencies of the striking sidekicks would have reaped no benefit from this under the compensation structure outlined above. Idaten would have gotten the credit for everything their sidekicks did, so the other agencies would still be bleeding from this while risk to the public was slightly alleviated. Idaten’s entire function in this strike was to set an example for quick settlement and minimize public harm. There’s this entire sub-analysis on Idaten’s internal culture and how it intersects with broader heroics standards that I won’t get into now this is already way too long.)

Idaten is at 1/10 capacity. It has like, ten guys, all of whom have been working say, thirteen hour shifts (voluntarily—again, it was a decision made to try and minimize the public safety risks of the strike while still allowing their colleagues their best chance at improved conditions) daily for the past month.

All of those ten guys responded to Tartarus before Endeavor made the call.

To understand the exact nature of the breakdown, you really have to see the chaos of how exactly this unfolded.

The LoV and their merry band of criminals hit Tartarus. The heroes do not realize at this time that they intend to let everyone out, give them transportation, and point them straight towards the mainland. They think that they’re just there for AfO. That’s still a huge crisis that needs to be shut down immediately, so they call out all of their best. Endeavor responds. Hawks responds. Eraserhead responds. Mt. Lady, Kamui Woods, Miruko—everyone in the vicinity who could conceivably respond show up. For a second, it looks like it’s going to end here.

Once the LoV get AfO out of his cell, the entire tide of the battle turns against the heroes. Now everyone’s out. All of those horrible, terrible villains. Tartarus has fallen. They have to make hard decisions. The high ranking, very powerful heroes who are most likely to break the line on Endeavor’s decision? They’re already at the fight by the time he has to make it. It is chaos and something they cannot easily leave.

The LoV’s picked right now because they knew that the heroes were operating at less than a tenth of their regular capacity. They picked right now because they knew the system had structural faults, and if they hit them just right, it would all come down on the heroes’ heads.

But the sidekicks broke strike lines to respond, right? Why do they all go to endeavor’s side?

For one thing, it wasn’t all of them who showed up—maybe a third of them were not even in the area any more. It wasn’t malicious, or intentional, or anything like that—they were off visiting their families for the first time in a long time or taking vacation. All of them had spent the past few years being completely overworked and abused by their jobs. They just weren’t there.

So now we’re down to 2/3rds of them who can even try to show up.

A lot of it wasn’t actually made as a reasoned choice. For many of them, they ended up where they did because of all the chaos.

So you’re a sidekick. You’re on strike. The entire world has gone to shit. How do you normally find out about the world going to shit?

This is a competition model streamed through individual entities. There’s no central command structure. Your agency calls you.

Well, your agency either fucking fired you or they cut you off completely during strike negotiations. This time, you find out through the news when the story breaks. Now what?

You frantically try to get in touch with your (ex) agency. Who is picking up the phones?

No one. That was your fucking job before you went on strike.

I used to work at a government public-service type deal, and let me tell you, they abuse the fuck out of non-unionized workers. You are doing everyone’s job. No one ask why we don’t get more support staff because they have unions. Like. I had a law degree. I was hired to be a lawyer in that office. They had us all doing the jobs of four people, and by that I mean it would be the literal entire job description of another fucking position in that office and we were all expected to just do it too.

Unions incentivize treating workers right. The absence of them opens the door to the opposite.

Why the fuck would agencies hire more people to lighten the load on the sidekicks and let them focus on actual heroics? Just make the sidekicks do everything. What are they going do, complain? They’re a dime a dozen. Hire more of those fresh faced kids with no standards just out of school.

You know when you had a job where you’re like. This fucking place is going to fall apart without me. But they treat you as disposable and easily replaceable and you’re like “okay bet” and so you leave and you find out from the people left behind that it actually fucking fell apart without you and you’re just like :o

Yeah. So that happened.

There has been a massive break down in the function of heroics offices for the past month and change because the sidekicks were not there. They were the ones who actually did most of the day to day handling of the office. They were the ones coordinating transport and figuring out the actual mechanics of who would be deployed where in a crisis. All those things that would be super helpful now? Yeah, those guys aren’t there, and they’re locked out of the fucking offices and can’t get in to un-strike for the sake of societal crisis.

But they know where the fight is. It’s on the news. Why don’t they just show up?

Where’s their gear?

Who owns it?

Heroics support gear must be an enormously expensive thing. It would have to be provided by the agency itself. Literally the only reason why Mirio has gear is because 1) all might would NEVER let his pseudo step son run around without proper support so the man would have bankrolled it himself if needs must and 2) the UA support class has a stipend each year where they can make support gear for active heroes and those heroes get it for free in exchange for free advertising for the students trying to kick start their careers, so he is decked out in THE most experimental bullshit from Hatsume Mei Industries (I have this entire side plot where the support class this class year low key became a sort of religious cult haha not really it’s just a joke it’s not really a joke and power loader is afraid every single day when he comes to work he is afraid under the iron clad rule of Hatsume Mei’s weird girl energy and they all decided Mirio was the Tabula Rasa, a figure of prophecy, and I just cannot get into that right now it’s too long it’s too long already. But it’s so fun).

All those sidekicks on strike lost valuable time trying to get back into their agencies so they weren’t showing up to an S-class villain fight in their fucking jammies. Then, when some poor admins figured out what was going on and let some of them in, everyone was frantically gearing up and getting in whatever transport van they were pointed at. Some of them didn’t know they werent reporting to Yokohama until they were already at the other fight. There’s was so much chaos and confusion that very few people had a clear idea of what was happening.

With the sidekicks, some of them never made it, some of them just got in a van and went wherever it took them, and some of them chose to obey Endeavor’s orders. Some agreed with the decision. Some disagreed but deferred to his experience. With how the Sidekick Strike had left their infrastructure, very few sidekicks were able to respond fast enough to make any real difference.

Now for the last possible demographic: the heroes that weren’t on strike and weren’t initially deployed to the Tartarus Prison Break. Why didn’t any of them go to Yokohama?

Structural Flaw #3: All Might was that one kid doing the entire group project for like forty years and some of these people are having to be heroes for the very first time and realizing that they don’t actually want to risk their lives to save people they just sort of liked the idea of this job.

It may be a bit too specific to be a structural flaw but I’m counting it anyway.

So, just to give a bit of a recap: We consider every hero alive in Japan as a candidate for Endeavor’s order. The vast majority of them are too far away to do shit, and there’s no centralized transport network to get them there faster. Toss in those who are dealing with personal medical issues or are away on vacation or just can’t come for some reason or another, and you’ve lost most of the heroes in Japan as respondents. Probably ~80% of potential heroes are culled from this alone.

So we have, generously, 20% of Japan’s heroes left as potential people to respond. ~90% of those are sidekicks on strike. They’ve got hours before they make it to any fight, because of the aforementioned structural breakdowns.

Now we’re down to 2% of Japan’s total heroes.

Some of that 2% were first responders to the initial Tartarus prison break. All the big name heroes in the area. But there can’t be that many top heroes—so let’s say 0.2% of them were at the initial fight.

Now we only have the remaining 1.8% of heroes to analyze.

There have to be a percentage of those who agreed with Endeavor’s call as a tactical decision. If they show up to any fight, they’re going to be obeying his order.

So we only have the ones who disagreed with his call left to look at.

These are small-time heroes. All of the big names are already at the fight. So they are less likely to have flashy Quirks, be especially talented, or consider themselves to have an especially large effect in the grand scheme of things. They have likely spent their entire careers living in a world with All Might.

It has never actually been down to them.

Think of Uwabami. Momo did her work study with her.

Her hero outfit is a fucking evening gown. She spent the entire work study doing commercials and meeting with her fans. She explicitly invited the young heroes that she did because she thought they were cute enough to be in commercials with her.

Now, she’s had some good if minor moments helping rescue civilians. It’s not that she’s never saved anyone.

But all of the top heroes are already committed to the fight against AfO. The current Number One Hero just ordered all her colleagues to report there. And Yokohama has a lot of S-Class villains en route.

And what the fuck is she going to do to stop them? It’s just her. Half of those villains took All Might to stop the first time. She is not fucking all might.

Is this a hero likely to go to Yokohama completely on her own to fight *checks notes* literally the entire prison population minus one guy? The worst guy, albeit. But one guy.

These are all heroes who have never had to be the actual thing standing between society and destruction. There has always been someone more powerful or capable or heroic nearby. Until recently, there has always been all might.

This isn’t to malign them. A decent percentage of them are legitimately well meaning about being a hero. They do good. But when it came to the big, blowout fights, they have always, always, always been the heroes evacuating civilians in the background or performing rescue in the aftermath. It has never been them who had to stand up and do the fight itself.

Every single one of those villains represent a big, blowout fight. And this hero trying to decide if he’s going to obey Endeavor’s order? They are one guy. And they’re not sure if they could even beat one of those villains alone, let alone all.

The reason why no one disobeyed Endeavor’s order was because, frankly, at the end of the day, they did not want to die.

Endeavor’s order signaled to everyone that there was no guarantee anyone would show up to Yokohama. It actually put good odds to the opposite. If you decided “fuck that, I’m going to Yokohama” then you’d likely be doing it alone.

What Class 2-A did was considered a death sentence. People who didn’t know them and their bullshit were shocked that they all made it out alive. These were the worst villains their society had ever faced and it was all of them at once (minus that one guy).

The heroes who were in a position to disobey endeavor didn’t actually think it’d make a difference if they did. They’d just… lose.

Most if not all of these heroes made the decision to become heroes during all mights era of peace. Everything just had lower stakes. Crime was less frequent and less serious. The big fights always had someone there who could handle them, because All Might was there. They’d fight the odd mugger or purse snatcher and help put out fires and go home at the end of the night. They’re heroes. That doesn’t mean they’ve ever truly had to grapple with a life or death fight.

If they went to Yokohoma, they thought they’d die. So they might as well respond to a fight that has a chance. Even if they feel ashamed as they do it. Even if they think Endeavor made the wrong call and wanted to go to Yokohama instead. All Might wasn’t there anymore. And they were afraid.

But there is one thing that Class 2-A had going for them that gave them an advantage over these heroes. And that was the fact that they are all medically insane.

It’s that they were together.

It’s a decentralized heroics structure. If you have a large agency, you are necessarily a top hero because no one else would be able to get that many people to agree to work under them. So you’re already at Tartarus and this isn’t a decision you had to make.

Maybe you’re independent. Maybe you have a small agency with 2-3 people. There is no preexisting centralized line that you can use to try and gather more people to go to Yokohama with you. You’re stuck with your immediate colleagues and maybe a few other heroes you’re close enough with to have their number. You really don’t have time to try and ask around to see if anyone else wants to go to Yokohama instead—you need to pick a battle and get there yesterday.

What good is 2-3 people going to do in Yokohama? You’ll just get massacred and it won’t have made a difference. At least if you go to stop AfO, you’ll have a chance at doing something that mattered.

Maybe you disagree with Endeavor but you defer to his training and experience.

Maybe you don’t go at any fight at all. Maybe you’re afraid. Maybe you became a hero in a time where you had a symbol of peace, and you realize you can’t keep doing it in a time without one.

I think there’s a small subsection of heroes that quit in the aftermath of Yokohama. Because they wanted to disobey endeavor’s order, and they thought they’d just die and it wouldn’t matter, and then dawn came and a bunch of school kids had managed what they were too big of a coward to do. I think the fact that they fell into line when their hearts told them they shouldn’t made them seriously doubt whether they were good enough to be a hero.

But they were alone when Endeavor made the call. And it felt like certain death. And—yeah, it sort of felt that way to Class 2-A when they made the decision to respond. But they weren’t alone when they did it.

They were together. And they always felt braver when they were together. Together, they could make miracles happen.

#pez dispenser debris #me with fictional worlds: where is your city planner I just want to talk #none of the heroes were happy at the thought of abandoning Yokohama #Yokohama didn’t happen because the heroes actually all got together and said ‘fuck those guys let ‘em die’#it was an absolute implosion of the heroics structure that they’d spent their entire careers working on #in my mind there’s a heroics organizational reform bill still making its way through the Japanese government in an attempt to correct the #structural failings that led to Yokohama happening. Aizawa keeps getting calls for his fucking kids to speak to the government about the #issue. and he’s like ‘absolutely not someone will tell them to do a flip and they will do it and cause a public incident’#no one said it out loud but everyone was sort of terrified that one of them would die at Yokohama #you could choke on the fear during the ride over #but they didn’t know what else to do. Yokohama needed heroes and all they had were them #but when you think of Yokohama think of all the big boss fights during bnha #not afo but like. overhaul. now think of fighting a few dozen of him at once. it’s. it’s not great odds.#the idea of just responding alone in the face of that is a nonstarter. and the decentralized nature of the system meant it was borderline #impossible to get the support needed to make a defense feasible. but class 2a had each other. and that was all they needed.#going to Yokohama the next day and it not having been a bloodbath was the biggest relief of those heroes lives #endeavor had never had a good relationship with shouto but he went to him in the hospital after and genuinely thanked him #I have this mental image of Iida. concussed four times over running on fumes and slightly delirious. desperately trying to keep it together #just a little while long. he has a list of the injured who need immediate evacuation. and his classmates. some of them need to be taken to #a hospital immediately. he made a list of their medication allergies. please ensure everyone is taken to the same hospital. he doesn’t think #he could bear it if they were scattered about. and he needs to help coordinate the transports of the villains from where they’ve been #containing them. and one of the Idaten sidekicks is like. Tenya. it’s okay. you did amazing. you can relieve command now. they’ll take it #from here. and he just says. okay. and he sits on the curb and cries. he asks them if one of them could call his brother. he’d. he’d really #like to come home if that’s okay. just for a few days. he just. he wants to go home. like the aftermath of that scene was kind of brutal to #process because on one hand they had all done so amazing but on the other they were so painfully young. a lot of them broke down in the #aftermath. kirishima got embarrassed because he started crying and asked mr Aizawa to call his moms. like once the adrenaline crashed it #all sort of hit them. they had all been so brave but also they were kids and they really really wanted their parents now if that’s alright #they know they’re heroes now and they have to be brave but also can someone please call their mom. please please please they just want their #mom. it was sort of a punch in the face for the full heroes to get there and see just how young these kids were. like these weren’t they’re #colleagues. these were kids who they didn’t protect. it hurt.

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kevingorg · 3 months ago

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any thoughts on will smith hockey potentially having/developing the delicious rpf hockey pretty boy complex? i see him with his curls growing back out and just think he’s prime for it

ohh yeah. well of course. as always i like to imagine multitudes of will smiths inside of my brain, but if i'm thinking specifically about how i'm characterizing him for my current fic, i'd say he's hyperaware of his looks and he fucking hates it. will's put all of this effort in to build up a reputation as kind of a masshole hockey boy, offering to fight q, chatting up foligno, saying he doesn't use conditioner (because presumably that would be gay?), acting a little too cool for school (i.e. for every shark except mack). and you're telling him that he just -- grew up too pretty? doesn't matter how he acts, he's always gonna have to hear it from guys on the ice because he got his mom's cheekbones? seriously?

one of the many reasons i also characterize him as fascinated by macklin's little mouth scar is like. there's physical evidence of what they do. that they're, like. hard. tough. if mack can take a puck to the face and get blood all over the ice and skate back out for the next period, that's a signifier of masculinity that will doesn't have quite yet. he hasn't been through that physical gamut, so he's still got that unblemished pretty boy face, and everyone around him knows it. that same video where he says he doesn't use conditioner (i think about this so frequently), he also gets real blase about facial injuries. gives a token 'wellll you don't want it to happen' before looking over at mack and getting into how you just kind of have to accept it, because it's part of the sport. and i think for him it would be some sort of complicated equation, like -- plays hockey + dickish + unhygienic + can take a puck to the face like a champ = masculine media image = straight media image.

my will is, above anything else, focused on how he's perceived. to the point sometimes of revealing himself because he craves control. like, that hot takes video where everyone else is just walking out onto the ice as they give their takes, but he clearly thought about it, came back, either had them redo the segment or just made them wait until after practice because he wanted to make sure the version of himself that got put out there was the right one. but in the actual video, it looks awkward and out of place -- in his quest to control his image, he reveals that quest for control, and how it sets him apart from his teammates. why does he want to be perceived a certain way so badly? is he just anxious about the spotlight? or maybe he has something to hide, and in trying to hide it he's given the game away.

it's this whole give and take he does with himself and the people around him and the wider world that would extend to his looks for sure. he's growing his hair out, yeah, but how many pictures of him have you seen recently with his curls actually dry and nice looking and NOT stuffed under a hat? i could probably count them on one hand. he does a lot of his interviews (hot takes video!!!) in his base layers -- why? to emphasize the masculinity of his body? to make sure that when people think of him, they think of how athletic he is before they ever think of how pretty he is? too bad, will, i can do both. but i see you.

#ask #anon #CHEWING ON THIS.#i've been thinking about this ask nonstop for a few hours #also !! wanted to put this in the tags instead but i think this also applies re: the pride tape thing #in an effort to distance himself from a queer appearance he draws attention to the fact that he's distancing himself #but i also think a part of him would (if he's even aware of it) revel in the twitter crucifixion #he's never been farther away from the thing he's terrified to be perceived as. and what does it matter anyway?#who's actually mad at him who matters? a bunch of online dy-- sorry -- lesbians?#that's not gonna affect his career in the slightest and he knows it. of course he does. his hockey idol is pkane #OK LONG ASK DONE. many many thoughts thank u anonnnnn #rpf talk

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dent-de-leon · 1 year ago

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Do not think I'll get over the fact that Molly encourages the idea that he's always had a string of lovers, lets people believe he goes off with someone new or visits brothels every night, and the whole thing is just...just because he doesn't want anyone to find out he's got this bleeding heart.

That his "choir practice" is him risking his life to save some strangers he's never met. That he's this compassionate, fiercely loyal protector who believes, "The truth is...How do I put this...the world is harsh and cruel, and I don't seem to be able to just walk on by."

That he has this reputation for being a shameless flirt with countless partners, and just...as far as we know, he only ever had one relationship. And after she died, he carried her cards and wore her coat every day, kept her close to his heart and never said a word about it. Not until he admits to Yasha that he's lonely, that he wishes he still had someone. The way Molly is grieving and mourning a partner just like Yasha, and no one ever knew.

The way Lucien couldn't believe that Jester found him "dreamy," the way people only ever saw him as a demon and monster for so long. Waking up as Kingsley and still looking for the love he lost. Still falling for Caleb. Tealeaf keeping so much close to the chest, afraid to let himself be too vulnerable. Only ever trusting his heart with a few. Wanting so badly to be good, to be loved, to be whole. Worshipping the goddess of love herself. Writing down, "Love. It binds us. It frees us. What more needs be said?"

#laying on the floor. head in my hands #every instance of the nein joking about molly running off with someone or locking fjord out of their room at night is just...#it gets so sad and depressing with the background that molly is a direct parallel to yasha being a grieving widow. how molly lost #his love too and still struggles with actually opening up his heart and being vulnerable with others--#mollymauk my beloved #believing the nein would leave him as soon as they found out about lucien--#molly always running and trying so hard to seem so worldly and experienced. terrified of anyone finding out that the world is still so #New to him. that hes only had a few short years to try and fill the clawing emptiness #I don't know...I really think molly didnt have anyone but lestera before #and it makes the fact that he still feels for her and caleb as kingsley all the more heartbreaking

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fogwitchoftheevermore · 1 year ago

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(context for watcher/listener!sausage can be found in the “videos” tag on my blog if you want it, but this ficlet can be read without said context)

- - -

“Y’know, of all the Hermits I was expecting to be pulling me into a dark corner tonight, I did not expect you to be first, Grian! I love the initiative!”

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that,” Grian says in a voice near a hiss. He’s got Sausage by the wrist, leading him into a small area of the upper floor of the tavern in Sanctaury that does look like it was built for the exact purpose Sausage is implying. Grian decides to ignore that as well.

“What are you doing here?” Grian’s straight to the point. He always has to be, with these Things, if he doesn’t want to get trapped in a loop of slant rhyming pleasantries.

“What do you mean?” Sausage asks, shaking his wrist out of Grian’s tight grip and leaning comfortably against the wall. “This is where I live. It’s my home. If anything, I should be asking you mysterious strangers what you’re doing here, but I’m sure you’ve heard that question enough for one day.”

“You know exactly what I mean.” Grian crosses his arms and tries his best not to look petulant, but he sure feels like it. “I thought They’d given up on trying to snatch me back, so why would They send you of all people? What’s your game?”

Sausage laughs, honest to god laughs, like he can’t believe Grian’s even asking him such a question. Grian thinks it’s a reasonable question, in this scenario, but what he thinks and what’s reasonable rarely seems to matter with these things.

“They didn’t send me,” Sausage looks him up and down in that way that makes Grian have to physically stop himself from curling inwards. This is why he never talks to Them. “Nobody sends me anywhere, they don’t tell me what to do and I like it that way! I just do my own thing. Isn’t that what you’re doing?”

“No you’re not! You’re not- you can’t be! That’s not how this works!” Grian begins to notice that he’s no longer whisper-shouting and starting to just-normal-shout and takes a deep breath, trying not to draw the attention of his friends enjoying themselves on the floor below. And, realistically, in the other dark corners Sausage seems to have built into this place.

“That’s exactly how this works. You didn’t think you were the only person who’d left, did you?”

Grian opens his mouth, closes it, and thinks. In hindsight… yeah, he had kind of assumed he’d been the only person who’d left. Not for lack of trying, probably- but They’d tried for so long to get him back, kept him closely surveilled even when They’d accepted he was gone- surely some people had caved to that pressure eventually. When there was no sign They’d ever let up, ever let you go… he could understand eventually letting it overtake you.

“Did- did you leave, too?” Grian doesn’t remember the last time he saw Sausage’s face. He didn’t know him back then, of course. He probably would’ve connected the man with the person Pearl so often spoke about sooner. But he knows it’s been a long time, maybe even longer than the last time Grian had gone There. He doesn’t think Sausage had been There, that day. This might explain why.

“Eh, not quite?”

“What-“ Grian flails, both mentally and with his arms a bit. “What do you mean not quite?”

“Exactly what I said! I was never- it’s complicated, y’know?”

“Explain. Now.”

“Well, uh,” Sausage seems to flounder for the first time since this conversation started, which Grian is choosing to take as a victory. “Look, I wasn’t- they didn’t pick me. For this, or for anything, ever. Sometimes things just happen and you get yourself into a place you shouldn’t have and then… they can’t get rid of me, I can’t get rid of them, it is what it is.”

Grian stares at him for a long moment. Really stares at him, in the same way Sausage had looked him over earlier, in the same way that makes you feel like you’re under a microscope. Judging by the sudden nerves in his eyes, Grian can assume he feels it too. Grian remembers his face. That had been the first thing he’d noticed, when the Hermits had arrived. It had been a long time since they’d seen each other, but Grian knew his face. And now that Grian was studying him, really trying to remember… he’s not sure he quite likes what memories he’s dredging up.

“What are you?”

“Grian!” Sausage’s voice drips with mock offense as he puts his hand up to partially cover his mouth. “We only just met, do you think that’s polite?”

“Answer the question,” Grian sighs. How Pearl deals with this man on the regular, he doesn’t know.

“Well, if you insist.” Sausage sighs, somehow even more exaggerated than his previous movements. “It’s just… if you’ll believe it, it’s somehow even harder to answer the first question.”

“It shouldn’t be,” Grian says. “They’re two very different People, you know.”

“But they’re the same species, when it all comes down to it. Like, you might be very different than a chicken, but you’re both birds in the long run.”

Grian pauses, fanning his wings out a bit behind him as he considers. “I don’t think that metaphor’s quite landing the way you want it to.”

“No, me neither. Anyways, let me continue.

When they don’t pick you, things go a little differently! You don’t get sorted onto one side or the other since, well, you’re not really supposed to be there? So I’m… whatever I want to be, really. I think I’m feeling like more of a Listener, today, but we’ll see how the mood shifts.”

Grian flinches at the Name, on instinct. He doesn’t know how to feel about that, so he files it away to be dealt with at a later date. As for the rest of what Sausage said-

“What?”

“You heard me.” Sausage shrugs. He’s so nonchalant, Grian thinks he might strangle him, if not for the worry that that’s exactly what he wants out of this, somehow.

“Did I? Did I hear you?” Grian wants to pace, but that requires leaving the security of the corner, so he forces his feet to root themselves to the floor. “I thought- I thought you had to- if you wanted to change sides, I thought you had to-“

Grian closes one eye and takes his thumb to it, twisting the finger into his eyelid. The gesture seems to get the point across.

“Well, that’s the funny thing about this, actually.” From the way he’s been talking, Grian assumed Sausage thought this whole thing was funny. He restrains himself from saying that out loud if only so Sausage will finish his explanation.

Sausage reaches up to his left eye, pulls his eye lid back a bit, and unceremoniously pops out his prosthetic eye.

“All these processes and rituals actually have a lot of loopholes.”

Grian doesn’t know what face he’s making, but it’s enough to make Sausage giggle while he pops the eye back in. Because of course he does. Because this how his day is going, apparently. Walk through a weird portal in his basement and wake up in a world filled with his friends who don’t recognize him and also a guy he only ever saw There, who he was never supposed to see again. Sure. Of course he’s laughing about it. Grian thinks if he was a slightly different person, he’d be laughing too. It is, undeniably, absurd.

“Well, I think we’re done here then!” Grian would probably object if he weren’t so shocked about the loopholes. As it is, he just stands there a bit stupidly.

Sausage turns away to return to the party before turn around again for just a moment, reaching over, and ruffling Grian’s hair. That shocks him enough to shake him out of his stupor and swat Sausage’s hand away, though not before his hair is suitably messed up.

“What was that for?!”

Sausage smiles as he reaches up to rough up his own hair as well. “I assumed you didn’t want your friends asking questions about why you were dragging me into a dark corner, you know?” Sausage even goes far enough to pull his shirt a bit out of where it’s tucked into his pants, because of course he does. Grian tries not to cringe, but Sausage is right about this one thing. It is the easiest way to dodge any questions about where he’d gone off to- at the expense of the many knowing looks and teasing remarks he’ll be getting from the other Hermits instead.

“Have a good night, Grian!” Sausage calls over his shoulder as he turns to leave for real this time. “And remember, drinks are on me for all you guests tonight! You look like you need it.”

#empires smp #hermitcraft #grian #mythicalsausage #hermitfic #empiresfic #long post #my writing #….do i need to tag shipping on this #they’re not actually DOING anything. and i would say i’m not really going much further than sausage usually does #but like. idk man. if i wake up in the morning and decide i need to tag shipping i will #anyways. fics for an audience of like two people total #but that’s ok cause i like this SO MUCH #the first few sentences have been rotting in my tumblr drafts for like at least two months #and i finally kicked myself into gear to just finish it #and i had fun! i liked the way i used capitalization here to really wedge the difference between how these two think of the watchers #(and listeners)#grian doesn’t necessarily respect them but he does still see them as Other. and he’s maybe a little afraid #so all the important stuff gets capitalized #sausage doesn’t. he doesn’t respect them and he doesn’t fear them and they’re just a weird bureaucracy to him #so no capitalization!#also ten seconds after posting this i got a post on my dash #of sausage posting a screenshot of e’s tumblr post about him checking tumblr in their twitter replies #terrifying. hey king if you see this keep the bit up. i think it’s funny #my art

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