#and my country on a smaller scale
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
galaxywhump ¡ 2 years ago
Text
Personal venty thing in the tags
3 notes ¡ View notes
aroaessidhe ¡ 2 years ago
Photo
Tumblr media
2022 reads // twitter thread    
When The Angels Left The Old Country
historical fantasy
follows an angel and a demon as they search for a young person from their small Jewish village who emigrated to America, helping others along the way, alongside a young adventurous lesbian
queerness & magic & immigration & workers rights
obsessed
64 notes ¡ View notes
rollercoasterwords ¡ 1 year ago
Note
everytime i think about how many bonus holidays americans get i am so in awe
like what do you mean you are doing halloween already??? does this mean you are already in the Silly Season?? And where does thankgiving come into all this???
lmao yeah the us goes kinda crazy w the holidays…i mean tbf it’s mostly the capitalism like it’s just companies wanting 2 market things and like. it’s also somewhat subjective like when i say it’s “halloween season” here rn what i mean is stores already have a bunch of halloween themed products etc and u can go 2 like. haunted houses and stuff that r usually running throughout the month but beyond that it’s just me being excited + having an excuse 4 extra scary movie nights + buying fun halloween themed snacks etc…planning a costume w my sister 4 the halloween parties we’re attending at the end of the month & so on
as for thanksgiving i feel like there’s slightly less hype just bc it’s sandwiched between halloween + xmas which everyone goes hard for…that might be subjective tho idc abt thanksgiving personally so i’m not in like the thanksgiving spirit or whatever lmao. like there’s def marketing etc that starts in november 4 thanksgiving but it tends 2 overlap w xmas marketing bc that starts so early…
14 notes ¡ View notes
harleybarbarahandler ¡ 1 year ago
Text
im literally in love with the little cackle that harley does every so often in birds of prey… like it’s the cutest most unhinged laugh and it’s adorable
#harley quinn#I feel like Margot didn’t get a chance to do it much in SS and TSS because I don’t remember it from those#only in BoP#and it’s SO cute I’m like… that’s my absolutely unhinged girl#BoP Harley is my fave live action harley overall and the laugh really helps. it’s so HARLEY.#I think it’s because she gets to have a lot of fun in BoP like yeah it’s life and death but#it’s on a smaller scale than destruction of an entire country so harley gets to play and be silly and have fun#she doesn’t take any fight in BoP nearly as seriously as the final fight in TSS#which is not a criticism of either film it makes so much sense for both#the only fight she takes serious in BoP I think is the final sequence with Roman because that’s the only one she feels she could lose#I think she sort of has fun in the last part of the escape sequence in TSS#when she’s escaped to her own world in her mind#but the first parts of her escape I really feel like she switches into the brainspace for being an effective killer#there’s two parts in her brain for that#the one that fights for fun and is entertained by the violence and playing with people#and the one that goes into immediate killer mode without thinking about it#she’s very good at compartmentalising#sorry this went from me talking about Harley’s adorable laugh to analysing her mental state I didn’t mean for that to happen#anyway congrats margot robbie on being really cute or w/e
6 notes ¡ View notes
demonlike-judge-of-fire ¡ 1 year ago
Text
on one hand. this weird girl is homophobic and transphobic and has bad opinions on art. but on the other hand, she's gonna have suuuch a rough queer awakening... shes a wolf girl, an otaku and she reads&watches yuri and tells her mom all about it. and i cant wait to watch it happen
2 notes ¡ View notes
nomaishuttle ¡ 1 year ago
Text
currently in a heavy heavy debate
1 note ¡ View note
exopelagic ¡ 6 months ago
Text
JAIL FOR SUPERVISOR FOR 1000 YEARS
#I need to talk to someone who knows what they’re doing or I can’t properly move on#like I don’t have much I need to do rn! but I DO need someone to help me with what kind of scope is feasible bc I have actually never done#this before and I don’t know how long it’ll take/how much there’ll be to write up#pls. this is an expected period of less talking to me bc he’s not in the country rn but he also ignored me asking if there was anyone else#I KNEW THIS WAS COMING YOU BASTARD REPLY TO MY EMAIL#I do actually have a deadline tomorrow at midday and I’m following the schedule he gave me so he was EXPECTING an email anyway#i may have sent kinda a bigger email than he was expecting! but I have questions I need answering that I literally can’t answer alone#uuhghdhdhsjhddjdjjd pls#the whole problem is that I need to figure out my scale and that affects everything I’m meant to be doing rn#and I THINK I should go with the smallest one I’m considering rn bc I think I went insane and this was already resolved actually but also#it was the natural progression from what we talked about on Monday#EMAIL MEEEEEEEEEE#basically I got super overwhelmed and tried to take on the world and then I realised I gotta go small to get anything done and I’m expecting#him to tell me that. and I would like to SAY that but I already sent a follow up email earlier saying I think I need to take on the world#it’s just that all this could be resolved by talking in person for like. 2 minutesish? I think that is really frustrating me#I’m gonna have so many questions for him on Monday but whatever he can deal with me he’s getting paid for it#okay I’m just gonna write my introduction as if it was smaller scope I think that’s best idea here#i just need Something#luke.txt
0 notes
matan4il ¡ 5 months ago
Text
The other day, I went with my rl bff to the Jerusalem branch of the Museum of Tolerance for an exhibition on the Hamas massacre.
This is the sight that greeted us. "Esthers of the world, rise up!"
Tumblr media
It's a poster celebrating two women whose families had lived in Iran, one is Jewish, the other is Muslim, and both women ended up being murdered due to the Islamic regime of that country, even though the Jewish woman's family had escaped Iran and fled to Israel after the Islamic revolution. The face of each girl is actually a composite, made from many smaller pictures of her people who have lost their lives because of the Islamist regime of Iran.
I knew this right away, because I have shared a piece that was done about the poster and how it came to be almost 2 months ago. 
"You don't understand!" my bff (who works as a teacher) said, all emotional, "She," my friend points to the Jewish girl on the left side of the poster, Shirel Haim Pour, "is the cousin of one of my students."
There is zero distance in Israel between us and the Oct 7 atrocities. 
We go in and join the tour of the exhibition. The guide tells us it was built jointly with Malki Shem Tov, who is a well known name in Israel, if you work at a museum. Malki founded a "creative visual solutions" company with his brother Assaf, through which among other things, they helped build many Israeli exhibitions over the years. "His son..." the tour guide starts to say and I don't need more than that for something to click in my head. I know so many of the names, faces and stories of the hostages, and so Omer Shem Tov pops right away into my mind. I didn't make the connection before, but now I can only imagine what it meant for this father to work on an exhibition that recounts, among other stories, how his son was victimized and robbed of his freedom during this massacre.
There is zero distance in Israel between us and the Oct 7 atrocities. 
The opening wall has a huge time stamp, 6:29 in the morning. 
Tumblr media
The tour guide doesn't have to explain this number to Israelis, or why it's designed to look like an alarm clock display. We were all woken up on that fateful Saturday morning by the alarm clock of Hamas' rockets. And it doesn't matter what we thought or believed the day before, as the full scale and horror of the attack were starting to become known along Oct 7, we were all woken up.
There is zero distance in Israel between us and those atrocities. I know this, and still it strikes me, again and again.
There's an area dedicated to the pictures of one photographer who went to the south soon after the massacre. I knew some of them already, like the pic showing the bodies of 13 elderly Israelis, who were on their way to a tour of the Israeli south on that Saturday.
Tumblr media
Some are new, like the pic of the door handle in one bomb shelter. I stop for a second, because now that I've moved into my new place, it hits me that the bomb shelter door was made by the same company. Suddenly, I feel like I'm inside the picture in a reality where the terrorists took a slightly different route on Oct 7. The door was photographed from inside the bomb shelter, and the bullets that pierced it, they had to have hit the personal holding it shut. The handle has blood stains on it, and it's broken off. I can only imagine how many hours this person held, and how much force they had to use, for that to happen. I know one thing, even without knowing exactly who this bomb shelter belonged to... If this person was on their own, they would have probably ended up surrendering rather than keep fighting to hold on to the handle this desperately. This was likely someone trying to keep their family safe. 
Tumblr media
One note retrieved from the body of a terrorist is on display. It says everything about the motivation of the monsters who committed these atrocities, and every word is purely motivated by antisemitism and religious zeal. The note is actually not in Arabic, as it may first appear, it's in Farsi, the language spoken in Iran, hinting at the source, the Islamist regime there, which doesn't care about the liberation of anyone, it aspires to create a global network of fanatic terrorism.
The translation: "You must sharpen the blades of your swords and be pure in your intentions before Allah. Know that the enemy is a disease that has no cure, except beheading and uprooting the hearts and livers. Attack them!"
Tumblr media
There is a section dedicated to women's stories. The exhibition visitors spread out to watch the testimonies, each on a separate screen. It's a not like a forest, you can't really see it for the trees, and it's another moment of feeling overwhelmed because we can't truly get it. It's just not comprehensible, facing so many stories about intentional, face to face cruelty, brutality, sadism and joy in it. Mali Shoshana tells the story of how she tried to play dead while lying shot in a pool of her own blood, but her body wouldn't stop shaking, so she somehow turned on her side to the wall and knocked her injured knee against it, causing herself to pass out from the pain. It saved her life. Ricarda Louk tells the story of the last message they got from her daughter Shani, trusting she was right and there was nothing for them to worry about. Then Ricarda's son started screaming and crying, because he saw the same vid many of came across on that day, of his sister being dragged into Gaza stripped down, mutilated, abused, molested and humiliated, while Gazan civilians were celebrating the public degradation of her body. And there's more and more and more. "You can come back and continue to listen," the guide promises as he moves us to the next segment, but the truth is no matter how many stories I've listened to and absorbed, it still doesn't feel like enough.
Tumblr media
There is a wall with the head shots of the victims in Israel who lost their lives due to this war, whether they were murdered on Oct 7 or since, but it's only been updated up until Mar 27 of this year. Even so, no matter what angle I tried, I couldn't fit in all of the pictures.
Tumblr media
Interactive screens allow a geographic telling of the massacre's story. They show maps of Israel's south, with dots on them, red for the murdered, dark blue for hostages, bright blue for hostages who have been returned, grey for the injured. You can tap a dot and read a story. Or you can zoom out and try to comprehend how is it possible for there to be that many dots on the maps.
Tumblr media
"From darkness to light," reads the exhibition title. That's the perception of time in Judaism. We always move from darkness to light. And there's a section for the light, for stories of resilience, of bravery, of rehabilitation, of mutual support and caring. Filmed interviews that do their best to summarize an incomprehensible amount of good we've seen in response to an incomprehensible amount of evil. It features people from every demographic in Israel, and in that way also serves as a reminder of just how diverse we are as a society.
Tumblr media
This part, I think to myself, was included for visitors from abroad. We Israelis, we know.
There's one story I know already. Tomer Greenberg, an Israeli officer, rescued on Oct 7 baby twins from the carnage. He was later killed fighting in Gaza. Like a puzzle, I've heard this story from several angles, including from Tomer before he died. This movie features an interview I hadn't heard yet, with the volunteer paramedic that Tomer handed the twins to. Shalom, this medic, talks about how they clung to him desperately as they got to be fed and feel safe and cared for again for the first time in what's estimated to have been 14 hours. I'm sitting there, thinking of those babies crying, not understanding why their parents aren't coming to feed them, and I don't know how to deal with this.
Tumblr media
Shalom shares that the experiences of Oct 7 have inspired him to try and become a combative soldier, something that wasn't on the cards for him before that. I wonder again at people who can act like subjecting an entire (already traumatized) society to a sadistic massacre can liberate anyone.
And I understand Shalom fully. When your family is in the pits of hell, there's nowhere you want to be other than there, with them, doing what you can, rather than sit and watch helpless from afar. Most people would say he did a lot on that day. Shalom must have felt like that still wasn't enough.
At the very end, visitors are invited to add their own little piece of light, through neon notes and pens on which they'd share their thoughts. Nothing feels like it can sum everything I'm thinking and feeling up, but not writing anything feels worse, so my bff and I add a few of our words to the notes.
Tumblr media
I don't have any profound conclusions for this post anymore than I did for my note. I just know that this still hurts, that we're still losing people daily, that we can't begin to heal, because we're still in the middle of the wound being inflicted. But I also know that we WILL heal, that even if the wound can't be closed yet, our collective immune system kicked into action on Oct 7 already, that we will continue to share the pain and the comfort and the care, and this massacre and war will probably never stop hurting, that we'll never be the same, but eventually we will be alright. Where people choose to care, there's just no other option.
(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)
494 notes ¡ View notes
evilkitten3 ¡ 7 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
@the-real-sasuke-uchiha that's fair!
my theory is that one day after passing on the hat he walked into the forest of death and didn't come back out again (that's why it got that name) and no one ever really knew the specifics. if it was too wildly pathetic there'd be stories no matter how hard people tried to suppress it. i think he died alone in the woods talking to what may or may not have been a hallucination of the best friend he killed
it's interesting to experiment with ideas about how hashirama actually died but imo the way hashirama tells his story in volume 65 says so much more about who he was at the end of his life than anything canon could've shown us. i think leaving it up in the air was the right call
#naruto#naruto shippuden#senju hashirama#uchiha madara#suicide ment#if it wasn't clear#there's one fic i read that also had a theory about hashirama's grave being in the forest of death and that being why it's so weird#so my og theory of he killed himself alone kinda ended up getting smushed with that cuz i liked it so much#the only person who was there for sure was black (and/or white) zetsu just to keep an eye on the current ashura#if madara was actually there no one will ever know but him. and he's not telling#i 1000% believe hashirama killed himself tho and i also don't think it was via an honorable means like seppuku#to be clear i don't think it was just about madara#i think it was a mix of things#the first great shinobi war was on the horizon. kids were getting pushed through graduation younger and younger#the violence had gone from smaller clan wars to entire countries fighting each other#and now there were jinchuuriki involved#when hashirama attempted seppuku in the manga it was bc he believed he could bring about peace at the cost of his life#and that was worth it to him#so i think when he killed himself for real - having lost his best friend first to madness and then to his own blade#having failed so miserably at bringing peace that he'd created war on a scale he'd never imagined possible#having seen so much of what madara had predicted would occur occurring just as he'd said#having seen his every attempt to make things better only bring about catastrophe after catastrophe -#he couldn't forgive himself. and he couldn't see how trying to make things better again would do anything but cause things to get worse#so he took out the common denominator#i don't think hashirama's death was gloriously fitting for the god of shinobi or comically pathetic for the world's silliest president#i think it was just sad. just a grief-stricken human dying a human death
11 notes ¡ View notes
zvaigzdelasas ¡ 7 months ago
Text
[BBC is UK State Media]
Truong My Lan is charged with taking out $44bn (ÂŁ35bn) in loans from the Saigon Commercial Bank. Prosecutors say $27bn may never be recovered.[...]
The evidence is in 104 boxes weighing a total of six tonnes [!!!]. Eighty-five defendants are on trial with Truong My Lan, who denies the charges. She and 13 others face a possible death sentence.
"There has never been a show trial [sic] like this, I think, in the communist era," says David Brown, a retired US state department official with long experience in Vietnam. "There has certainly been nothing on this scale."
The trial is the most dramatic chapter so far in the "Blazing Furnaces" anti-corruption campaign led by the Communist Party Secretary-General, Nguyen Phu Trong.
A conservative [sic] ideologue [sic] steeped in Marxist theory, Nguyen Phu Trong believes that popular anger over untamed corruption poses an existential threat to the Communist Party's monopoly on power. He began the campaign in earnest in 2016 after out-manoeuvring the then pro-business prime minister to retain the top job in the party.
The campaign has seen two presidents and two deputy prime ministers forced to resign, and hundreds of officials disciplined or jailed. Now one of the country's richest women could join their ranks.[...]
Although Vietnam is best known outside the country for its fast-growing manufacturing sector, as an alternative supply chain to China, most wealthy Vietnamese made their money developing and speculating in property.
All land is officially state-owned. Getting access to it often relies on personal relationships with state officials. Corruption escalated as the economy grew, and became endemic.
By 2011, Truong My Lan was a well-known business figure in Ho Chi Minh City, and she was allowed to arrange the merger of three smaller, cash-strapped banks into a larger entity: Saigon Commercial Bank.
Vietnamese law prohibits any individual from holding more than 5% of the shares in any bank. But prosecutors say that through hundreds of shell companies and people acting as her proxies, Truong My Lan actually owned more than 90% [!!!] of Saigon Commercial.
They accuse her of using that power to appoint her own people as managers, and then ordering them to approve hundreds of loans to the network of shell companies she controlled.
The amounts taken out are staggering. Her loans made up 93% [!!!] of all the bank's lending.
According to prosecutors, over a period of three years from February 2019, she ordered her driver to withdraw 108 trillion Vietnamese dong, more than $4bn (ÂŁ2.3bn) in cash from the bank, and store it in her basement.
That much cash, even if all of it was in Vietnam's largest denomination banknotes, would weigh two tonnes.[!!!!!][...]
David Brown believes she was protected by powerful figures who have dominated business and politics in Ho Chi Minh City for decades. And he sees a bigger factor in play in the way this trial is being run: a bid to reassert the authority of the Communist Party over the free-wheeling business culture of the south.
"What Nguyen Phu Trong and his allies in the party are trying to do is to regain control of Saigon, or at least stop it from slipping away.[...]
faster growth in Vietnam almost inevitably means more corruption [sic]. Fight corruption too much [sic], and you risk extinguishing a lot of economic activity.
10 Apr 24
503 notes ¡ View notes
pedrospatch ¡ 2 years ago
Text
a safe haven l one
Jackson! Joel Miller x Female Reader
Tumblr media
series masterlist
summary: After the events in Salt Lake City, Joel and Ellie are back in Jackson, Wyoming to start a brand new life in the safe haven; Ellie has a difficult time fitting in and adjusting in the community, but she finds a friend in you; Joel meets you for the very first time and strange new feelings instantly take root.
warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. AGE GAP (no specific age is mentioned, but reader’s in her late 20s/early 30s and Joel is 56). reader is basically an OFC but story is written in reader format and her physical descriptions are kept as vague as possible. i have my own face claim for her, but i will only ever share it under cuts and with disclaimers. reader is married, Ellie plays a very important role in the series, hints at her strained relationship with Joel but this will indeed be a fix it fic because he deserves it, okay?
word count: 8.1k
Tumblr media
Jackson, Wyoming | June, 2024
Joel’s deep, dark brown eyes linger on you from across the town mess hall with sheer, almost unabashed curiosity. Then again, he doesn’t even realize that he’s staring.
It’s about half past twelve, the designated lunch break hour in Jackson, and the larger scale eatery, which for the last couple of years has been run by an older man named Seth and his two surviving adult sons, is alive and well, buzzing loudly with obnoxious, overlapping chatter.
The hall is almost over maximum capacity, packed to the brim with several members of the steadily growing community who had stopped in for a quick bite to eat before having to resume their daily work duties around the settlement. Or at least, a majority of them had, anyway. Others shamelessly try to milk their lunch hour for all that it’s worth and more, dragging it out and extending their allotted free time for as long as they possibly can before having to return to their scheduled tasks around the commune. They float about the place, socializing as if the mess hall had suddenly turned into The Tipsy Bison, the bar right across the road that’s also owned by Seth.
Somehow, by a stroke of sheer good luck, you’d managed to find yourself a smaller, unoccupied table nestled against the wall, away from all the hustle and bustle. It’s tucked away over in the furthest corner of Jackson’s busy and bustling makeshift canteen, near where the aluminum double doors that lead back to the kitchens are propped wide open for the mess hall staff who were coming in and out to replenish the dishes at the buffet. 
You’re sitting at the table alone, your plastic lunch tray surrounded by an absurd amount of open books that Joel had very little choice but to assume came from the town’s modest, but decent sized library that he’d seen nestled between the schoolhouse and the old church, right behind Main Street. In between delicate bites of oven baked chicken and roasted vegetables harvested fresh from the gardens, you reach up and take the blunt, worn yellow pencil that’s tucked in the space behind your ear, using it to scribble on the notepad in your lap before putting the pencil back in its designated place. Although you’re clearly working through your lunch break today, that doesn’t stop you from being interrupted on several different occasions by numerous individuals—friends and familiar faces all approach you with hopeful expressions, eager to join you and keep you company. 
Sure, the hall is full, but there’s still a number of available seats still left at other partially occupied tables nearby, bigger tables that aren’t crowded with books like yours, tables whose occupants aren’t busy working, studying—doing whatever it is that you’re doing. It becomes apparent to Joel that you’re something of a hot commodity around here. He can’t quite put his finger on it, but there’s just something about you that reminds him of the sweet and popular small town girl his favorite country artists would sing about back in the day. The kind of girl with a magnetic presence and irresistible charm—the kind of girl that anyone can fall head over heels in love with in one way or another. 
There’s something almost too endearing about the gracious way you offer up just the most saccharine smile and apologetic doe eyes as you point to your books, politely declining every offer for companionship that comes your way, saying something he can imagine to be along the lines of, not today or maybe another time. Eventually, after a while, you’re finally left alone to bury yourself back into whatever it is that’s keeping you occupied that you can’t even have your midday meal in peace—you’re so engrossed in the task that you don’t even notice the older, salt and pepper haired newcomer who’s been blatantly staring at you from his table over on the opposite of the hall for the last several minutes. 
It’s not the first time Joel’s seen you around.
He still vividly remembers the moment when he’d first laid eyes on you several months ago during the winter season. 
It had been the morning after his fight with Ellie, after she’d confronted him and he had been forced to fess up about his plans to hand her off to his younger brother, Tommy—he’d asked him, pleaded with him, to get her to the Fireflies in Colorado. Joel’s mind had been in an all out raging war, his heart torn between doing what he’d felt was best for Ellie and what he truly wanted, which was to remain by her side and get her to where she needed to be himself. But how the fuck could he do that when all he’d managed to do in the few months prior to their arrival in Wyoming was fail to protect her over and over again? Sure, Ellie was a teenager, now closer to being an adult than anything else, but she was still a child, one who needed to be protected, kept safe. She needed somebody who could get to where she needed to be in one piece, and Joel had come to the conclusion that, as much as he wanted to be that person, he simply wasn’t capable. Slower, older, his hearing getting worse and worse as the days go by, he feared he’d only end up getting her killed if she continued on with him, a scenario he fucking refused to let happen at all costs. He wouldn’t hold another child’s dead body in his arms, not again.
Following a very long and sleepless night of tossing and turning, Joel had pulled himself out of bed just after sunrise that morning. After getting dressed, he’d quietly slipped out of the house and made his way down to the horse stables, hoping he could leave the commune as soon as possible and without notice from Tommy—and especially without notice from Ellie. It’s not that he had wanted to leave without saying goodbye to her, but Joel knew he wouldn’t have it in him to follow through with the decision he’d made about parting ways with her if he saw her face again, not a fucking chance. And so there he’d been, in one of the stalls at the stables, saddling up the horse he planned to steal and take off on when you’d walked by, flashing him a warm and friendly smile, probably assuming he was just another patrolman getting ready to head out for the morning shift. 
Joel had just stared at you, lips pressed together into a tight, thin line with an emotionless expression on his hard, stony face.
Of course, you were nothing more than a complete stranger who didn’t have the slightest clue as to what was going through his mind. You couldn’t have possibly imagined what was happening to the tortured older man you’d just encountered, the way his inner turmoil was a single thought away from tearing him apart from the inside out. You’d probably just thought he was rude for not smiling back, or at the very least, offering you a courteous good morning.
He’d almost forgotten about you since then.
Almost.
It’d been rather difficult for him to forget all about the prettiest goddamn fucking face he’d ever seen since the world ended two decades ago—not even after all of the events that followed that fateful morning.
The next time Joel had seen you was on his second day back in Wyoming. He and Ellie had made a trip down to the produce market on Main Street to pick up some vegetables and jarred preserves to stock up the kitchen pantry of their new, forever home. He’d caught sight of you as you made your way down one of the aisles towards the sweet potato bins with a brown, woven basket hanging from one arm and a reusable shopping bag draped over the other. Before Joel even realized that he’d been staring, your kind gaze met his own from across the market and you smiled at him again.
Still just as warm, still just as friendly. And you were still just as fucking beautiful as he remembered.
Much like that winter morning in the horse stables, Joel didn’t smile back at you. 
Two for fucking two—surely you must have thought he was a mannerless asshole at this point. He honestly wouldn’t blame you if you did. He’d think the same. 
Tommy, who had made it back from leading his morning patrol group just in time to join him for lunch, waves a hand in front of Joel’s face, looking thoroughly amused. “Maybe we should find you a goddamn camera,” he teases, letting out a small chuckle once he’d finally managed to break the older Miller’s trance, garnering his attention. “Y’know, so you can take a picture. It’ll last a hell of a lot longer.”
Joel scowls at his brother, though he says nothing.
He can’t very well deny that he’d been caught openly gawking. 
“Shut up, Tommy,” is all he can come up with before taking a large bite of seasoned carrots, heat flooding his face. The way Tommy’s looking at him, with that mischievous glimmer in his eyes, it reminds Joel of their younger years, when Tommy would make it his mission in life to do anything that would cause him discomfort just for his own kicks. 
“Hey, I don’t really blame you, y’know.” Tommy reaches over for his glass of sweet iced tea and picks it up, taking a long and refreshing sip. Smacking his lips together, he casually shrugs his shoulders, shooting Joel a knowing smirk over the top the glass as he comments, “She’s certainly a sight for sore eyes, ain’t she, big brother?”
“Watch it. Don’t think Maria would appreciate you sayin’ that kinda thing ’bout another woman who ain’t her,” Joel warns, cocking an eyebrow at him. His brother hadn’t always been the most faithful of partners in his first life, but Tommy truly seemed to be head over heels in love with his wife. Hearing him talk about another woman makes Joel wonder if perhaps remnants of his playboy ways still lingered behind even after twenty years. With Maria having just found out she was expecting his child, Joel certainly hopes that isn’t the case. “Eyes to yourself, asshole.”
Tommy shrugs again. “Ain’t no real harm in just takin’ a quick peek every once in a while,” he muses, although there’s a joking edge to his tone. Setting his glass of iced tea back down onto the table in front of him, he leans back into his chair and glances over at you. He lets out a long, low whistle, another smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. “Oh trust me, I get it, Joel—hell, every man around here gets it, fuckin’ single or not. She’s a real fuckin’ beauty, she is. But I should probably go ahead and warn you now that it’s best you don’t go gettin’ any ideas when it comes to that one.”
Before Joel can even stop himself, he finds himself asking, “Why’s that?
“Well for starters, that girl’s damn near half your fuckin’ age, you old fucker.”
Joel flips him off.
“Besides that, she’s already spoken for.” 
“She’s got a boyfriend.” It’s a statement, not a question.
“She’s got a husband,” Tommy corrects him. “She’s a married woman, Joel. And here’s the real fuckin’ kicker. She’s married to Jackson’s only doctor.”
Joel snorts, rolling his eyes. “A real doctor? Or just some fuckin’ clueless prick who claims to be a doctor?” he questions, shoving another forkful of his carrots into his mouth.
The younger man laughs at the bitter skepticism, knowing that it’d come from a place of envy more than anything. “Real, Joel. The guy’s around my age, give or take a couple years. He was finishin’ up his medical school residency when the outbreak first happened, at least that’s what Maria says,” he explains. He notices the confusion flash across Joel’s face and continues to elaborate. “Two of them go way back, went to the same college before she transferred out to another school for her law degree. Maria came across him and his group one day while out lookin’ for supplies. She said he still knew his stuff after all these years and decided to bring him in as the community’s physician. He looks after everyone around here. Delivers the babies, stitches up wounds. Hell, I broke my arm in a stupid ridin’ accident last summer and he set the bone right back into place, had me good as new within a few weeks. S’a miracle we’ve got someone like him around here.”
Joel glances down at his plate, twiddling his fork between his thumb and his index finger. He would have been a goddamn dirty liar if he’d said that finding out you were a married woman didn’t bother him. 
And to a fucking hero doctor nonetheless.
That only makes it sting a little harder.
Tommy immediately picks up on his brother’s disappointment in hearing the news about you being taken and softly kicks his shin with the toe of his boot underneath the table. “Y’know Joel, there’s plenty of other single women around here. Pretty ones, and real nice, too,” he informs him with a small smile. He pauses and then offers, “If you’re interested, I could introduce you around. Maria has this friend, her name is Esther and she’s a real cute blonde—”
“That’s the last thing on my fuckin’ mind,” Joel grumbles out in reply. He tightly shakes his head. “I just fuckin’ got here, Tommy. Besides, I’ve got Ellie that I need to take care of. We’re both tryin’ to get used to this place after bein’ out there on the road for so long. We’re still in the middle of gettin’ ourselves settled. The kid’s my priority right now—my only fuckin’ priority. Not meetin’ someone.”
Not wanting to push him too far, Tommy goes along with the subject change. “Speakin’ of Ellie, how’s she been doin’ by the way? Haven’t really seen much of her since you two got back.”
Joel hesitates, momentarily unable to meet Tommy’s eyes.
It’d been a couple of weeks now since the events that took place back in Salt Lake City. 
Since the hospital.
Since the Fireflies.
Joel had certainly thought once or twice about confiding in Tommy about what he had done. How he had ruthlessly and without a single ounce of mercy killed all of those people in the hospital, how he had shot Marlene dead at point blank range—how he had violently and single handedly stopped what had most likely been humanity’s only chance at potentially finding a cure for the cordyceps infection by preventing the Fireflies from operating on Ellie and performing a brain surgery that would have killed her. 
Joel doesn’t regret it, nor does he regret the choice he’d made on Ellie’s behalf.
He would do it all over again in a fucking heartbeat if it came down to it.
He doesn’t carry guilt over having done what he’d done, but he does carry the guilt of having lied to her about it after it was all said and done. He felt awful for looking her in the eye and swearing to her that everything he’d said about the Fireflies was true when it wasn’t. Ellie claimed to believe him, but he knew better than that. She was smart, too fucking smart for her own good. She might not have known the extent of it all, but she knew for certain that Joel wasn’t being entirely forthright about what had gone down in Salt Lake City while she’d been unconscious.
From that moment on the mountain, things had been quite tense between them. That conversation instantly caused a rift in their relationship, but Joel could tell she was doing her very best to force herself to fully believe that he was still a person she could trust, a person she could put her faith in. He took an odd sense of comfort in knowing that her forced efforts to keep believing in him had to have meant something good. 
She didn’t want to give up on him or on their relationship.
Joel exhales a heavy sigh, finally answering the question. “Not too great,” he admits, quietly. “I’m real worried ‘bout her, Tommy. It’s been a couple weeks now since we’ve been back and she still hasn’t made one single goddamn friend around here. She doesn’t fuckin’ talk to anyone, barely even talks to Maria.” He sighs again, tiredly rubbing the side of his face with his free hand. “She spends most of her time hidin’ out in the stables with the horses. She would rather be around them than other people. She can’t live the rest of her life like that. I try to tell her she needs to put in more effort on her part, but she won’t fuckin’ listen to me.”
“Just give her some more time, Joel. After everythin’ that poor kid’s been through in her life, it ain’t a big surprise that she’s strugglin’ a bit to fit in around here, y’know?” Tommy notices the way his older brother’s jaw clenches and he offers him a look of sympathy. “Look, I know Ellie means a whole lot to you and if I were you, I would be real worried ’bout her too. But just give her a little more time to adjust. She’ll get there, I know she fuckin’ will. She’s a real strong kid, big brother.”
“Yeah, I know she is,” Joel murmurs in agreement. “Hell of a lot stronger than someone her age should have to be.”
“She’ll be just fine,” Tommy reassures him. “She’ll find her place here, Joel. Just wait. You’ll see.”
“I sure as hell fuckin’ hope you’re right.”
Tumblr media
You relish the feeling of warm sunlight hitting your face.
Summer’s just beginning in Wyoming, and after a particularly long, cold and cruel winter that swept the western state this last year, you couldn’t have been more thrilled to see that warmer weather is well on its way.
At least, for now you’re thrilled.
Winters in Jackson were god awful, but summers could be just as brutal, if not worse.
Clutching the strap of your old, but sturdy brown leather satchel bag securely over your shoulder, you hurriedly make your way across the settlement from the mess hall and back towards the horse stables, the place you commonly referred to as your second home—it wasn’t all that much of a joke, seeing as you often spent more time there than you didn’t. It’s now after lunch hour, and there’s still plenty of work to be done before the end of the day rolls around, most of it which would undoubtedly trickle into the next day.
Being the only veterinarian in the community, there was always more than plenty of work to be done every day. Too much work to be done by one single person alone. Often, you find yourself feeling quite overwhelmed by it all. You feel like you’re completely in over your head, and it leaves you wondering if you’d made the right decision by taking such an enormous responsibility into your hands.
Then again, it’s not like you’d been given much of a choice. In a way, it had been expected of you.
Prior to passing away from illness two summers ago, your father had been the veterinarian who looked after the animals. Even though you hadn’t been trained professionally like he had, your father decided to spend the final years of his life teaching you to the best of his ability and with what little resources he had available. After all, Jackson was going to need someone to step up and take care of the animals when he was gone—particularly the hoses. Even as his physical health worsened, he used every last ounce of strength he had left in him to prepare you to take over for him when he died. Thanks to him and all he’d done for you, you certainly knew a thing or two, but the job was still daunting, even after all this time of being in practice on your own without him there to guide you like before.
Keeping the horses healthy to begin with made your job a hell of a lot easier, but when a horse became sick or injured, that was when your knowledge and your skills were truly put to the test. Horses were how everyone traveled when in search of needed supplies, how patrolmen and women moved around while they were out and about on watch keeping the community safe against the infected and against raiders. Horses were one of the most important, most precious resources the commune possessed. They kept everything going, everyone moving, and you’d be fucking lying if you said that being the sole person in charge of caring for them didn’t put a tremendous amount of pressure on your shoulders.
Sensing your doubt, Maria Miller often assured you that you were the best person for the role—the only person for the role. “The apple really doesn’t fall far from the tree,” she had complimented you over coffee at her place the morning after you had successfully removed a bullet lodged into the shoulder of one of the horses that had been injured while Tommy and his group were out on overnight patrol. They’d stumbled across violent and armed raiders, and luckily everyone had made it out unscathed with the exception of Tommy’s beloved black horse, Ranger. You recalled being pulled out of your bed in the middle of the night to tend to him, the first serious case you had to take care of without your father’s guidance. Thankfully, the stallion’s injury hadn’t been life threatening, and you were able to patch him up within the hour. After just a few weeks of working with Ranger and putting him through physical therapy, the horse made a full recovery and both Maria and Tommy couldn’t have been more thrilled with your work.
Still, you still continued questioning your own abilities, but it didn’t really matter in the end. Both Maria and Tommy decided to assign you as Jackson’s equine veterinarian, pulling you from your previous job, which had been helping Seth make sandwiches at The Tipsy Bison.
You rush into the stables, making a mental list with the names of all the horses that you still need to check over for the day, including the group of horses that had just arrived back from that morning’s patrol. You make your way down to the very last stall which is serving as home to a stunning, chestnut-brown pregnant mare.
“Hi there, Stella,” you coo sweetly, beaming at the beauty. “Hi, my gorgeous girl. How are you doing today, sweetie pie?”
“I would be doing a hell of a lot better if I could have one of those apples in your bag,” a voice answers, startling you slightly.
Peering around Stella’s body, you catch sight of Ellie laying down on a small bed of hay in the furthest corner of the stall. She’d made something of a pillow out of her backpack, kicking back as she flips through her favorite superhero comic book for what had to be the hundredth time. She offers you a silly, lopsided grin the minute she takes a glimpse at the baffled look on your face. “Howdy.”
“Ellie,” you sigh her name softly. “What in the world are you doing in here?”
“Living my best life,” she deadpans. “What else does it look like I’m doing?”
You try but mostly fail, in hiding your laughter at her quick witted sense of humor. “Ellie,” you say her name again. “You can’t just hide out in here with the horses every single day, you know,” you point out, dropping your heavy satchel bag onto the ground. Stella lowers her head and gives it a sniff, no doubt smelling those apples you always carried around with you.
“Wanna bet?” The teenager quips with a small joking smirk as she sits up, tossing her comic book to the side. Bits of hay stick out of her brown hair, which she always keeps tied back in a messy ponytail.
“Aren’t you supposed to be in school with the other kids?”
She rolls her eyes. “I already went to school. Back in the Boston QZ. FEDRA’s finest, dude.”
You don’t know all that much about Ellie Williams—nor about the brooding older man that she’s here with, Joel Miller. The only thing you do know is that Joel happened to be Tommy Miller’s older brother and he acted as Ellie’s guardian. Initially, you’d thought he was her father, but Maria had told you that he had no familial relation to the girl, a fact that took you by complete surprise.
Their arrival in Jackson back during the winter season had the entire town talking—but by the following morning, the pair were gone, not to be seen again for several months until their return towards the end of spring just a couple of weeks ago. Rumors flew once the word of their return had gone around, but in reality, no one had the slightest clue about where they had gone or why they had left the safety of the commune’s walls in the first place. Not even Maria, who had failed in getting her husband to talk. She swore up and down Tommy knew something she didn’t, but he refused to spill his brother’s secrets, even to his own wife.
Like everyone else in the tight knit community, you were curious about Ellie, and you were especially curious about Joel. You’d seen him around a couple of times before, but hadn’t had the chance to meet him yet. Still, even without having spoken a single word to him, you already knew he wasn’t anything like Tommy, or anyone else you’ve ever encountered, really. A man of very few words, he kept to himself, just like Ellie did. Still, Joel knew he needed to find his place and pull his weight in Jackson just like everyone else, and once he began working patrol alongside Tommy, he finally began engaging with other members of the town. 
Reluctantly so, but at the very least, he was trying.
Ellie, on the other hand, avoided everybody at all costs. Everybody, that is, except for you.
Since their arrival, Ellie chose to spend her days in the stables. She’d hang out with the horses while reading her comic books or listening to tapes on some old Walkman she had permanently borrowed from Tommy. Despite a hectic schedule that kept you busy, you eventually started taking the time out of your day to talk to her. It had started off with light chatter about the most trivial of things—how the day was going, whether or not the weather was nice outside, what had been served for lunch in the mess hall that afternoon. Ellie seemed almost annoyed with you at first, but after a couple of days, she’d quickly started warming up to you and by the end of the first week, she had started following you around the stables, joining you wherever you needed to be. The girl had taken a liking to you, but she was still quite guarded and careful, as if she were still testing the waters, figuring out whether or not you could be trusted.
You don’t mind that, though.
Little by little, simply by being kind to her and making the genuine effort to get to know her, you’re slowly beginning to chip away at her layers. There was still quite a long way to go if you ever wanted the teenager to completely open up to you, but you didn’t mind that either.
You’d be as patient with her as you needed to be.
You walk over to her. “Listen Ellie, as much as I really enjoy having you around me all the time, you really do need to make friends, you know.”
She blinks. “But you’re my friend.”
Even as you rephrase yourself, you can’t help but smile. “Friends your own age,” you remark, tucking the loose lock of your hair that had fallen loose from your dutch braid behind your ear. “You know, my husband, he has a niece named Dina. She’s about your age. I could introduce you to each other if you'd like?”
Ellie furiously shakes her head. “No.”
“Ellie—”
“Everyone around here looks at me like I’ve got two fucking heads or something. She probably fucking will too,” she mumbles. She pulls her knees up to her chest and wraps her arms around them. “I’d have an easier time fitting in around here if I was a fucking clicker.”
Chuckling, you gently shake your head at her.
By now, you’d pretty much gotten used to her rich and colorful vocabulary.
You crouch down in front of her. “Look Ellie, I know how hard it is not to fit in with others.”
“You?” Ellie blows a loud raspberry in complete disbelief. “No fucking way. I don’t believe that for one fucking second, sweet cheeks.”
“Hey, in case you didn’t know this, I haven’t always been this age,” you remind her, lightly swatting at the side of her knee with your hand. “I was fifteen once too.”
“Yeah, and you were probably little miss fucking perfect, just like you are now.” She rolls her brown eyes at you in a teasing manner. “I bet everyone just loved you.”
You swat at her knee again. “Oh, stop that. That couldn’t be any further from the truth,” you reply, wondering where this child had come up with the idea that you are, or had ever been perfect. “I was still living in one of the quarantine zones with my family when I was your age, Ellie. We were living in the Alburquerque QZ for quite a while before it got overrun by the infected. They had schools and everything, just like in Boston. My mother was a nurse, so she had the privilege of enrolling me in one of their better schools, a preparatory school—she had the hope that I’d become an officer so I could have a chance at a decent life.” You pause, noticing a strange glimmer flash in the girl’s eyes, but when she says nothing, you continue on, “So I got the absolute pleasure of going to school with a bunch of kids whose parents were officers and important higher ups in the zone. And let me tell you something, the world may have gone to complete shit, but teenagers can still be fucking assholes.”
Ellie throws her head back and laughs loudly. “Whoa! I never thought I’d hear you curse. I thought you were too fucking prim and proper for that.”
“I’m not all that prim and proper,” you counter, grinning at the way she continues to cackle. “Besides, spending all this time with you might just have me cursing like a fucking sailor by the end of the week.”
“Fuck yeah it will,” she agrees with a nod. 
You grin again, but when your eyes meet Ellie’s, it falters slightly.
Ellie hadn’t told you much of anything about her past, but one thing was for certain—the young girl had been through hell and back. You could see it written all over her face, even when she smiled and even when she laughed. The traces of terror, pain, and trauma were quite subtle, but they were very much present and in recent nights, you’d find yourself lying in bed, wide awake and wondering what all this poor child had gone through in her life. Thoughts about what Ellie had seen, what and who she had lost in this world haunted you.
She’s different. 
What she’d been through made her different.
It set her apart from the other children, especially those who don’t know what it’s like to live a life outside these four walls.
It pained you to know that she felt ostracized when you were willing to bet your life that whatever had happened to her, it hadn’t been her fault.
Ellie Williams wasn’t your responsibility—you hardly know her. But you already care about her. An inexplicable soft spot for her had found its way into your heart from your very first interaction with her. If there’s anything you can do to help her ease into this new way of life, you’ll gladly do so without hesitation.  
“So then,” Ellie finally says after a minute, looking up at you. “Is it, uh, is it alright if I keep coming to the stables to spend time with you and the horses?”
“Of course.” You rise to your feet and glance at Stella. “But only on one condition. You have to help me out with the grooming. I’ve been really short handed lately and could use the extra help. Deal?”
She jumps up to her feet, eagerly nodding her head. “Deal.”
Tumblr media
Joel dumps his plastic tray and used dishware into the designated dirty dish bin before shoving his way through the doors of the mess hall. The air outside is still relatively cool, it’s crisp and fresh—but the temperatures are sure to get a hell of a lot warmer now that summer has officially arrived. Not that he minded.
He keeps his sights set straight ahead of him, doing his best to avoid eye contact with anyone who so much as even throws a glimpse in his direction.
People seem to be getting to him, but oftentimes, he still feels like a pariah. It’s almost like he’s some fucking feral stray cat that Jackson had adopted and taken into it’s home, willing to tame him, but still afraid that he could start tearing shit up at any given moment if they didn’t keep a close enough eye on him. He could handle that, though. It’s his Ellie he’s worried about. Between the survivor’s guilt she’d been dealing with on a daily basis and the way she was looked at in the community by everyone, Joel feared for her well being. He could only hope that Tommy was right about her just needing time and that eventually, she’ll find her place and he’ll have the chance to give her the most normal life possible under the circumstances. 
It’s the very least Joel could do for her after all she’d been through in the last year—after what he’d done, how he had lied straight to her face. He fucking owed her that much.
Ellie deserved happiness, and he would do just about anything in his power to give it to her.
Joel arrives at the horse stables and makes his way inside. “Ellie?” He calls out her name. “Ellie? You in here?”
That’s when he hears her voice. 
“Wait, what? Stella’s pregnant? I didn’t fucking know that!”
Rounding the corner into the very last stall, Joel sees Ellie standing there, her tiny little hand on the muzzle of a brown horse. In her opposite hand, she’s holding a mane brush. She isn’t alone.
He’s surprised to see you standing there beside her, your hands planted on your hips. You’re wearing a pair of well worn light wash blue jeans, the legs tucked into a pair of weathered black riding boots whose soles are completely caked with muck. Joel remembers you wearing an oversized, long sleeved red flannel shirt back in the mess hall, but it’s now off and tied around your waist, leaving you in a thin, cotton white tank top—the material fits snug on your frame, and Joel tries his hardest not to stare at the patch of bare skin that peeks between the hem of your shirt and the waistband of your jeans.
Christ.
You’re even more beautiful up close.
Fuckin’ get a grip, Miller, he thinks silently to himself.
“She sure is,” you reply to her question with a wide grin. “We just found out about a week ago and believe she’s about a few weeks along. We’ll have a sweet new baby in a year.”
“What? No fucking way!” Ellie exclaims, looking thoroughly excited, but bewildered by the fact. “Horses are pregnant for a whole year? Holy shit man, that’s fucking nuts!”
“Well, for eleven months,” you clarify for her, giving Stella a gentle, but firm pat on her muscular neck. “This is Stella’s first one. We’re hoping for a smooth pregnancy that reaches full term, but sometimes babies decide to come a bit sooner than expected.”
Curiously, Joel’s lips part and his eyes widen slightly.
He can’t fucking believe it.
Ellie hadn’t spoken a single word to anyone in two weeks and yet here she is, engaging with you so easily and so effortlessly, cracking the first genuine smile he’d seen since they had fed that giraffe back in Salt Lake City. More than that, Ellie is being herself, cursing up a storm and all, and you don’t seem the slightest bit bothered by it, not like the other adults whose jaws would drop in utter horror at her use of such foul language.
Joel wills himself to move and steps inside of the stall. He lightly clears his throat. “Ellie.”
You and Ellie both turn around, glancing in his direction.
“Joel? What are you doing here?” she asks, her smile fading slightly.
“Lookin’ for you. It’s lunchtime. Y’need to go eat somethin’ kiddo.”
She holds up the brush in her hand. “But we were just about to—”
He stops her with a stern glare. “Lunch. Now. Go.”
“Fine,” Ellie huffs and rolls her eyes at him. Picking up her red and tan backpack from the ground, she hands you the mane brush and stomps out of the stall, roughly shoving into Joel’s shoulder as she pushes past him without another word.
Joel glances at you, a sudden wave of awkwardness washing over him. Just as he’s about to politely excuse himself and leave, you speak.
“You’re Tommy’s older brother, right? Joel?”
He nods. “Yeah. I am.”
Stepping away from Stella, you walk over to Joel and introduce yourself, extending a hand for him to shake.
Your name is as beautiful as you are and it sounds heavenly when he repeats it, rolling smoothly off his tongue. He takes your hand in his own and the contrast between the two is stark. Your hand is soft against his rough, small compared to his large, but somehow still an all too perfect fit.
“It’s nice to finally meet you, Joel.” Your eyes find his, meeting them in a way that makes something inside of him that had been sleeping for decades now stir itself awake—it’s a feeling that’s too foreign for him to pinpoint. 
Realizing he’s been holding onto your hand longer than necessary, he drops it and takes a step back, lightly bumping his back against the stall door. “I’m—uh, I’m real sorry ‘bout Ellie,” Joel apologizes to you after a minute. “I know she’s been spendin’ a lot of time in here. I hope she hasn’t been botherin’ you or gettin’ in the way of things. If she is, I’ll have a talk with her.”
“No, no. Of course not. She hasn’t been bothering me at all,” you quickly assure him without missing a beat. “I’m usually in here alone, so it’s actually been really nice having her around. I enjoy her company a lot.”
“You do?”
You toss him a puzzled, but amused look. “Is that so strange?”
Joel places his hands on his hips and leans back against the stall door. “Ellie’s been havin’ a little trouble,” he confesses. “Adjustin’ to life here and meetin’ people. She, uh—she ain’t like all the other kids around here, y’know?”
“I know.”
His eyebrows raise to his hairline—exactly how well had you and Ellie gotten to know each other already? What all had she told you? What did you know about her?
What did you know about him?
Joel tries to mask the concern on his face.
“I was just talking to her a little while ago. I told her I know how hard it is being a teenager and trying to fit it in with the crowd, even in a world like this one.” You let out a humorless laugh and shake your head, the ridiculousness of what you’d just said sounding sillier out loud than it had in your mind. “It’s even harder when you’re just so different.” You detect the way that your statement triggers something of a negative response from Joel—the way his eyes darken in a flash of anger and his nostrils flare slightly tell you he doesn’t take all too kindly to anyone talking negatively about his kid. Ellie being different is something that he already knows, of course, but hearing it from someone else isn’t easy for him, and it certainly isn’t welcome. It puts him right into protective mode and you don’t blame him, not in the slightest. You hold your hands up and reassure him, “There’s nothing wrong with being different, by the way.”
Joel sees the sincerity in your eyes that go hand in hand with your words and his defenses switch off almost as quickly as they’d switched on. “There isn’t,” he agrees with a careful nod of his head. “Nothin’ wrong with it at all.” He clears his throat. “M’sorry, I didn’t mean to—it’s just that I don’t really like it when people start runnin’ their mouths ‘bout my kid, that’s all.”
Waving a hand, you assure him, “No need to apologize at all, Joel.”
Little by little, he starts relaxing. Taut and tense muscles that have been wound up for years and years are suddenly beginning to loosen. All it’s taking is being in your presence and talking to you. Joel suddenly understands why Ellie’s taken such a quick liking to you. 
You’re unlike anyone that either of them had ever met before. You’re bright and you bring about this warmth—a different kind of warmth Joel hadn’t felt in so fucking long. It feels like seeing the sun for the very first time after spending years and years trapped in a cold, cold darkness.
He glances around the stall. “So, uh—what’s the deal? You one of the stable hands around here or somethin’ like that?”
“Something like that,” you repeat after him, a tiny grin tugging at the corners of your mouth at the way he speaks with a heavy, but still incredibly charming Southern drawl. “I’m the veterinarian here in Jackson.”
He chuckles. “Y’mean, those still exist?”
“Sort of. My father used to be the veterinarian here,” you explain to him. “That was what he did for a living before the outbreak happened. We lived in New Mexico on a horse ranch when I was growing up—he started off as a stable hand and then he went back to school to become an equine veterinarian. When we got here a few years ago from one of the quarantine zones, he told Maria what he had done for a living before this and he was asked to care for the horses in exchange for our place here.”
“And you?” Joel can’t help but wonder out loud. You seem quite young, can’t be older than your late twenties or early thirties at most, which would still have made you a child when the outbreak happened. “No offense darlin’ but you seem a little bit too young to have gone to vet school before shit hit the fan.”
Darlin’.
He doesn’t mean to call you that. But it’s too late—and you don’t appear bothered by it.
Instead, you laugh, and the sound is like a gorgeous melody he could listen to on repeat for the rest of his life if given the chance. “No, I definitely did not go to veterinary school. Actually, my dad taught me everything I know.” You speak fondly of him as you continue to say, “He educated me. Well, as best as he could considering the circumstances and all. He gave me a ton of books that I could read and study from, but most of it was hands-on training. He tried to teach me all that he could before he died a couple of years ago.”
Joel frowns. “Oh. Sorry to hear ‘bout your dad.”
“It’s alright. You don’t have to be sorry.”
He peers at you, wondering what had happened to him. 
“He died of illness,” you tell him, as if having read his mind. “Cancer, we think it was, but we obviously can’t know for sure without proper testing. And before you say it again, you don’t have to be sorry.” You cross your arms over your chest, tilting your head at him as you change the subject and ask, “So, how are you settling in?”
“S’been alright, I reckon. Real different from what I’m used to—from what we’re both used to,” Joel answers, referring to Ellie.
“I can imagine it is. It took me a while to get used to this place when I first got here too. It’s such a different way of life, especially when you lived under FEDRA control for so long,” you empathize with him, sighing as you drop your arms back down at your sides. “You stay just a couple of houses down from Tommy and Maria, right?”
“Yeah, we’re two doors down in the brown and greenish lookin’ unit.”
“I’m in the light blue and white cottage right across from them,” you inform him, your pretty eyes twinkling as you give him a smile. “I guess that kind of makes us neighbors, doesn’t it?”
Joel’s stomach somersaults.
If you didn’t stop smiling at him like that, there was going to be a problem.
“It does,” he manages to say. Remembering Tommy’s warning from earlier, he decides it would be best for him to leave—and the quicker, the better because he’s beginning to notice how fucking easy it is to fall under your spell. He pushes himself away from the stall door. “I should probably get goin’ now. Got evenin’ patrol,” he says. “Listen, uh, I really appreciate you spendin’ time with Ellie and bein’ so kind to her. Thank you for that.” He gives you a small grateful nod and turns on the heel of his boot to leave the stall.
“Joel?”
He stops dead in his tracks, his back stiffening slightly.
The sound of your soft voice saying his name is sweet like pure, raw honey.
If he isn’t careful, he’ll become addicted to it—he fears he already is.
Swallowing harshly, Joel turns back around to face you. “Yeah?”
“We’re having this big get together tomorrow night in the barn that’s right across the way,” you say, jabbing a thumb over your shoulder. Through the small round window in the stall, he can see the very barn you’re talking about. “We do it every single year on the first day of summer. We do it for the kids more than anything, but everyone comes out.” There’s a subtle hint of shyness to your tone. “I’m not sure if Tommy or Maria have mentioned it to you yet, but there’s going to be a big barbecue, drinks, and even dancing. The whole nine yards.”
Joel has to bite back a small scoff of disbelief. “You serious?”
“Hey, the world might have ended, but people still know how to get down and party,” you joke. You observe the genuinely perplexed look that crosses his face and giggle. “I know it must sound really bizarre. But it’s a lot of fun and it’s a great way to really get to know the folks around here. I think it would be great if you and Ellie both came.”
“Ain’t too sure if it’d be Ellie’s thing. Or mine,” he admits, raking a hand nervously through his hair at the thought.
“You won’t know unless you give it a shot, Joel.” You gift him with another brilliant smile that just about makes his heart stop inside his chest. “Please?”
Joel hardly knows you.
Hell, up until five minutes ago, he hadn’t even known your fucking name—how is it possible that he can’t say no to you? A complete fucking stranger?
He thinks about it. He doesn’t like the idea of having to interact with anyone outside of his patrol duties, but if going to the damn thing means seeing you again, then he’s willing to at the very least give it a shot. 
“Maybe we’ll both stop by for a bit and check it out,” he finally replies, exhaling a sigh of defeat.
“Great!” You beam happily. “I’ll see you tomorrow night, then!”
“I’ll see you tomorrow night,” Joel repeats, giving you one last nod before turning and leaving the stall.
As he leaves the stables and heads home, he can’t help the way the corners of his mouth threaten to turn upwards at the mere thought of seeing you tomorrow night. 
Shit.
Yeah, he’s in fucking trouble. 
Tumblr media
3K notes ¡ View notes
draconesmundi ¡ 6 months ago
Text
Happy Dracones Monday! Firedrakes!
Tumblr media
Happy Dracones Monday! This Monday we're looking at four dragon species at once, the firedrakes! Here they are, approximately to scale with eachother.
The glitterdrake is the smallest, the size of a large lizard or small cat. They live in laurel forests on Macaronesian Islands, in the Atlantic near Africa. Glitterdrakes aren't based on mythology; I put them on Macaronesia because I couldn't find Macaronesian dragon mythology but I am trying to put dragons EVERYWHERE on the map. Also, putting these dragons on an archipelago of islands means I can have a lot of island subspecies and colour morphs - glitterdrakes represent colourful fantasy dragons, so having them come in every colour (sapphire blue, ruby red, emerald green, royal purple, burning gold, shining silver etc.) was important to me.
The Welsh dragon is smaller than the other European firedrakes at 1.5 meters. They are no less fierce - there aren't any common firedrakes in Wales as a common firedrake cannot maintain a territory there for long. Originally I had the Welsh dragon as a subspecies of the common firedrake, but decided that this dragon had so much personality and folklore that it could get it's own chapter.
The common firedrake is found in Western Europe, 4m long. When designing these I noticed in a lot of heraldry dragons don't seem to have horns? Ears yes, but hornless? Also I noticed that dragons in heraldry tend to have the dorsal finlets from the back of the head to between their shoulders, but no further, which is something I have kept for all my firedrake species.
The viridian firedrake is the largest firedrake species, over 5m long. They are found in Eastern and Southern Europe, and in Russia. I based their appearance on old storybook illustrations to make them look very 'classic', which is why they have horns and cheek frills compared to the more heraldic and hornless common firedrake.
Rant about the term 'firedrake' under the cut! :)
In other creative works, these are called 'classic dragons', 'European dragons', 'true dragons' and 'Western dragons', but I am not a fan of these terms - 'true dragon' implies other dragons are untrue dragons, which is nonsense. 'Western dragon' or 'European dragon' is largely accurate (the 4 legged 2 winged dragon design is common in Europe and the West) but there are other Western and European dragons (wyrms and wyverns) and I find these terms confusing when other types of dragons are taken into account. Also, some Asian dragons also have 4 legs and 2 wings. 'Classic' dragons... serpentine and wyrmish dragons are more classic than 4 legged 2 winged firebreathers, etc.
I went with 'firedrake' as a term for these dragons because 'drake', 'drachen', 'ddraig', 'drac', 'drak' and 'dreki' are all words for dragons like this in European languages, and because firedrake is a word used in literature like some translations of Beowulf and, of course, Tolkien's Legendarium (firedrake comes from Old English fČłrdraca). I think it's a good word that easily conjures up fire breathing four legged, two winged dragons without making them more 'true' or 'classic' than other dragon types or tying them specifically to 'European' and 'Western' countries.
In Dracones Mundi I really try to get a huge diversity of dragons across to the readers. There are around 68 dragon species in this project, only 4 of which are firedrakes. I want to show readers there is more to dragon mythology than "here is a western dragon, they are evil and associated with fire, here is an eastern dragon, they are good and associated with water" - I want to dig deeper. I want people to know about azhdarha, about cuĂŠlebres, about coameh. So I'm shining the spotlight away from these firedrakes and trying to make them a small part of a much larger discussion. :)
215 notes ¡ View notes
ghostxrose ¡ 8 months ago
Text
𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆'𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑫𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒉 𝒐𝒇 𝑷𝒆𝒂𝒄𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝑴𝒊𝒏𝒅 | 𝑩𝒂𝒌𝒖𝒈𝒐 𝑲𝒂𝒕𝒔𝒖𝒌𝒊 𝒙 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓
Summary ~ For three years your life was great, then Katsuki said nine little words. Nine simple words. One singular sentence. And everything that happened after those nine fucking words were spoken? Absolute Hell.
Tags/Warnings ~ MDNI, some non-descript NSFW content, Fem!Reader, some fluff, on a scale we're lookin at mostly hurt accompanied by a little bit of comfort, heavy angst, angst w/a happy ending tho, potentially triggering situations, mild description of injuries, !alternate ending- read note for info please!, idk what else to tag just comment if there's anything else <3
Note ~ Hey Lovelies, soo this fic is going to be long and it's going to be angstyyy. The word count is 16,667 words without the alternate ending, so buckle in, Lovelies! And just remember, I swear to you that this idea started out a lot smaller and a lot fluffier in my head. The plot just took over and churned out this monstrosity.
Now, onto addressing the alternate ending.. I think it's technically more of an extended ending that will crush your soul if you choose to read it. Do with that what you will, just know that I warned you. I put it below the second image divider, under the A/N..
Happy reading, My Lovelies! <3
Tumblr media
Maybe it was meant to be or maybe it wasn’t. You knew the parameters of his job, his still-budding career, his dream. You knew why your relationship was kept a secret from everyone. You had both agreed to keep it hidden and you were even happy about it. You enjoyed the privacy of it all.. No one butting in with opinions or teasing comments. No risks of having your daily life plastered all over various media. No threats upon your life from vengeful villains. It was just you and Katsuki living your best lives together, until..
“I’m goin’ on a mission out of the country.”
Those had been the first words out of Katsuki’s mouth when he had finally decided to break the brooding silence that he had been exercising since he stepped foot into your shared apartment.
He had gotten home from work, taken his shoes off, and went straight to your guys’ bedroom without uttering a single word to you. It had been mostly uncharacteristic of him, but you had just brushed it off as him having had a rough day and let it be. When he had finally chosen to speak, you were both halfway through the dinner you had made.
Your chopsticks had clattered to the table as something paralyzing and numbing had taken over your body. You had looked over at him, your eyes glassy and your hands shaking. Shock, fear, anger, and sadness had slammed into you like a brick wall and made everything heart-breakingly surreal. He was staring down at his plate, refusing to look at you, but his jaw was clenched and his hand had tightened around his chopsticks.
“Look, ya know that this-” he had begun to argue, begun to try to defend himself and his job, but you had cut him off.
“When do you leave?” You had asked in a voice that was far more calm and controlled than you had ever thought was possible in a moment like that.
It was then that his eyes had widened slightly and he met your gaze, his features softening a bit when he had noticed the barely contained tears that had built up on your lash lines.
“Two days.” He had stated in a quiet tone and a bit of guilt in his eyes.
“F-for ho-how long?” You had stuttered out as your poorly held together composure crumbled.
He was quiet for a moment, eyes roaming your face and taking you in, before he spoke again, “A year. Could be shorter, could be longer.”
You could tell that he was a bit surprised that neither of you were yelling or fighting about it, yet. But he also knew that you had always been someone who never let things get to that point, nor had you ever aided in his fuse blowing. You had always been his calm, his quiet, his serenity.
You had quietly nodded your head as you took in the information and attempted to process. You were mentally going over everything you both would have to do to prepare for his departure when he had spoken up, yet again.
“I,” he had started, albeit abnormally hesitantly, before continuing, “I don’t want you to wait for me.”
Your entire world had shattered, caught fire, fucking exploded, in that moment and you snapped.
“What the actual fuck are you talking about, Katsuki?” You questioned, your voice raised and harsh.
Katsuki had visibly winced before hardening his expression and body language. In the three years that you and him had been together you had never raised your voice at him let alone ever said his name like that. His face had shifted into a heated glare, something that he was very much familiar with.
“You fuckin’ heard me, Y/N! I don’t need you mopin’ around this place just fuckin’ waitin’ to see if I’ll message you or even return home! I- I’m cuttin’ you free! Free to do whatever the fuck you want! Free to party! Free to go out with whoever you want! Free to fuck whoever you want!” He had viciously spat out, his voice raised to a shout by the end of his explanation.
Your brain had stopped working as horrified shock had taken over your features and tears had flowed down your face. You were only knocked back into reality when Katsuki had slammed his fist down on the table as curses flew from his mouth.
“Do.. how.. You truly think so low of me?” You had asked, your voice quieted by immense hurt and disbelief. “You truly believe that I wouldn’t be able to handle you being away? That I would let myself just sit here in our apartment and rot?! You truly believe that I would want to be with or fuck anyone else?! Jesus fucking Christ, Katsuki! Do the last three fucking years not exist?! Do you not fucking know me at all?!” You had shouted back at him, your voice cracking and raw.
You had shattered completely after shouting, your face in your hands as gut-wrenching sobs tore from your mouth. A metallic tang on your tongue with every harsh exhale had told you just how much your vocal cords had suffered. It had felt like you were choking as you sat there trying to wrap your head around what the hell was going on.
“Kirishima and Mina will be here tomorrow to help get my stuff. They’re going to store it for me until I get back. I’ve already taken my name off of the lease, but paid for the next six months’ rent. I..” Katsuki had paused for a moment, his disconnected tone wavering ever-so-slightly before he cleared his throat. “This is what needs to happen, Y/N.” He had said with emotionless finality.
That had broken you even more, something you had thought impossible at the time, and overwhelming nausea had slammed into you. You had bolted from the table and barely made it to the bathroom before what little you had eaten at dinner made its reappearance. You had locked yourself in that bathroom for the rest of the night. Katsuki hadn’t knocked, hadn’t called out to you to see if you were okay. You had caught the few times he had lingered outside of the door, but he had just walked away silently each time.
That was four months ago.
Now, you do anything you can to not be in that godforsaken apartment that he had left you in.
Every time you’re there, memories of the day he left shred you into nothing. Flashbacks of numbly sitting on the couch watching him gather the small amount of items he had left in the apartment and placing them by the door. Flashbacks of watching him make his coffee and eat in silence. Flashbacks of shivering from the devastating cold that had settled into your bones, no matter the amount of layers you had thrown on. Flashbacks of him not looking at you once as he put his shoes on, picked up his bags, and left without uttering a single fucking word.
The click of the door shutting is an echo that haunts and breaks you every single time you step foot in that place.
So now you spend your nights at friends’ houses or in hotels. You throw yourself into working or meaningless tasks. You fill all of your freetime with hobby after hobby. You do absolutely anything and everything you can because if you stop for one fucking second, then all of your thoughts go back to him.
Is this what he wanted for you?
You know about and pointedly ignore worries thrown your way. You dismiss the questions from friends and family about your sudden change in pace and mental state.
“Are you alright, Y/N?”
“Why are you working yourself so hard?”
“What are you constantly rushing around for?”
“Are you sleeping okay? Those dark circles are a bit concerning..”
“Has something happened?”
“Y/N, are you doing okay?”
Are you doing okay?
You force your happy facade back into place as you look at your reflection in the doors of the elevator. Ignoring all of the physical signs of you not being okay, you paint a smile on your face when you hear the ding alerting you of your arrival to the requested floor. Freshly baked goodies in hand, you step out of the elevator, your eyes searching for the door number you want. Finally seeing and getting up to the aforementioned door, you take a deep breath and knock. It takes a moment or two, but eventually the door opens.
“Hey, Izuku! I had some time and thought I’d drop by to give you these!” You greet cheerfully, holding up the bags of baked goods. “There’s, uhm, there’s.. Shit, what did I make, again..” You fumble and look down into the bags to remember what all you had baked.
Your memory comes back to you and with a triumphant grin, you look back up at Izuku, “Right! There’s some mochi, chocolate chunk cookies, uhm, red bean-”
“Y/N,” Izuku says your name softly, but in a way that feels offending-ly like pity and your words come to a dead-stop.
“Please don’t speak to me like that.” You quietly grit out, your hands gripping the handles of the bags tightly as your eyes fall to the floor, your stare boring holes into Izuku’s socked feet.
A sigh is exhaled through Izuku’s nose before he reaches out and gently grabs your shoulder, bringing you into his apartment. You let him guide you inside, your facade cracking a bit and letting your heavier emotions through to slump your body language. The door clicks shut behind you and you unintentionally flinch at the soft noise. Scarred hands come into your vision and gently take the bags from your still clenched ones.
Izuku is one of the only people who knows about your.. situation, other than Kirishima and Mina. You hate that anyone knows, but you especially hate that Izuku knows. You hate it because the only reason he knows is due to the letter that Katsuki had delivered to him the day he left. The letter that Izuku refuses to let you read. The letter that your green-haired friend refuses to even talk about with you any more than it stated to look after you.
The day Katsuki had left, Izuku had shown up not long after the blonde had closed the door. Izuku had let himself in using the key, Katsuki’s key, that had been in the envelope with the letter. You hadn’t moved from your spot on the couch. The green-haired hero had found you just sitting there staring at the wall with tears dripping from your face.
It was Izuku who had cleaned up Katsuki’s mess. It was Izuku who had quietly found a washcloth and dampened it, then used it to gently wipe your face. It was Izuku who had forced you to eat buttered toast and drink some water. It was Izuku who had sat there in the blaring silence with you until you ultimately passed out from the exhaustion of it all.
“Y/N,” Izuku calls your name softly, once again, bringing you back to the present. You look up to see him holding the bags you have yet to let go of with a small, albeit sad, smile.
“You can let go of these now, thank you.” He says gently as he slowly pulls the bags further toward himself. With a small nod, you finally relinquish your grasp on the bags. A slightly stuttered breath leaves your lungs before you straighten up and paint a smile on your face.
“My bad, sorry about that!” You say with a huff of forced laughter.
“Have you eaten today?” Izuku asks with a knowing tone as he makes his way to his kitchen. Your jaw clenches out of irritation and it’s only made worse when a sharp pang from your stomach hits.
“I have.” You lie, kicking off your shoes and moving to follow him, ignoring the way your body trembles slightly and how the room spins a bit when you move too fast.
“Well, I was just about to make dinner. How about you join me?” Izuku says, his question coming out as more of a statement even with the cheery lilt of his voice.
“I would love to but I’ve got, ya know, some stuff to do still, so-” You ramble out as you back-track toward your shoes and the door. You cut yourself off when you feel a warm static wrapping around your wrist and you stop walking. Looking down, you see a tendril of Blackwhip gently pulling you back toward the kitchen and you let out an irritated huff.
“Sit down for a bit, Y/N. How does katsudon sound?” Izuku’s annoyingly kind voice asks as another tendril of Blackwhip pulls out a chair for you.
With a tired sigh, you plop yourself down into the chair and grumble out, “Sounds good.”
𖤛 𖤛 𖤛
Izuku listens closely for a few moments, standing at his cracked bedroom door. When he doesn’t hear anything more than the electrical humming of the apartment, he closes the door as quietly as he can. He makes his way to his bed and grabs his phone off of the nightstand, turning it on and navigating through apps.
After going through the extensive security process of the HPSC Communications app, he pulls up Katsuki’s file. Getting to the call function, Izuku presses it with almost no hesitation, then brings the phone up to his ear.
“The fuck are ya risking a call for, Nerd?” Katsuki’s agitated tone demands when the call connects after a few rings.
“Hello to you too, Kacchan.” Izuku says quietly while rolling his eyes.
“Cut the fuckin’ pleasantries, Izuku. You already know these damn calls can’t be long. Also, why the fuck are you whispering?” Katsuki, once again, demands. Though, he sounds more tired now than anything else.
“Y/N came by today, ended up crashing here for the night. Hopefully, she’s sleeping but I don’t want to risk her hearing me talking to you..” Izuku quietly explains, wincing slightly at how bluntly it all came out. Silence fills the call at the mention of you and Izuku tries to suppress his frustrations with his childhood friend.
“She’s.. she’s not doing well, Kacchan. If her physical state is anything to go off of, she’s losing it. She’s lost more weight, the bags under her eyes could pass as bruises, her mental stability is practically nonexistent-” Izuku says, diving into his reason for calling when he’s cut off.
“Goddammit, Izuku! The fuck do you want me to do?! I can’t come home! Not that I think that it would help any! Every fucking ‘update’ you give me does nothing! I know what I did was shitty! I know that! But I can’t do anything to change or fix things right now, so what the hell do you want from me?!” Katsuki shouts from his end of the call making Izuku wince and hold the phone away from his ear.
Sighing heavily at Katsuki’s angered breathing coming through the speaker, Izuku defeatedly replies, “You told me to give you updates, Kacchan, and I’m doing that. I don’t know what you should do with the information I give you and I know how you feel about what you did. I.. I’m just worried about her.”
Izuku runs a hand through his hair, letting out another sigh before continuing, “If she keeps going like this.. she’s going to-”
“Don’t.” Katsuki speaks up, his voice quiet and shaking slightly. “Don’t finish that fucking sentence, please Izuku. I can’t.. If she.. Just, don’t.”
“I’m sorry, Kacchan.. Obviously, I’m going to keep doing my best to keep an eye on her, but.. I can only do so much.” Izuku says quietly, defeat and helplessness churning his mind.
“I know, Nerd.. thanks.” Katsuki grumbles out, but his gratitude is still felt by Izuku.
“So, how’s the mission going?” Izuku asks awkwardly, changing the subject.
𖤛 𖤛 𖤛
You wake up the next morning, taking a few moments to gaze around the room you’re in and remember where you are. Rolling onto your back, you yawn as you take in the familiarity of the guest room of Izuku’s apartment. You’ve spent more than a few nights (and days) in this room within the last four months, so much so that some of your clothes take up space in the closet. You hate feeling like you’re imposing on Izuku every time you spend the night, but you are eternally grateful for his friendship.
Letting out a sigh, you stare blankly up at the ceiling as a cold, numbing feeling sinks into your body. You don’t want to move. You don’t want to exhaust yourself anymore by pretending to be okay. You just want to lay in bed and rot. But you can’t because that’s what Katsuki expected you to do and you can’t let him be right.
Ignoring the beginning ache of a headache from crying multiple times throughout the night, you heave your body out of the bed. Slowly, you shuffle your way to the bathroom and try, very desperately, to find the energy to put together your facade of happiness. The smell of food cooking floats through the air and a small, appreciative smile pulls at your lips.
Finishing up your business in the bathroom, you make your way to the kitchen. You find Izuku humming quietly as he scoops rice into two separate bowls. Also spotting two steaming bowls of miso soup, you feel your stomach rumble a bit.
“Good morning, Izuku!” You greet happily as you walk up next to him.
“Oh, good morning, Y/N! I was actually about to come see if you were awake yet! You have good timing!” Izuku says with a warm smile as he hands you a bowl of rice and a bowl of soup.
“Woke up a few minutes ago,” you lie, not wanting to talk about the thirty minutes you spent mentally rotting. “Thanks for breakfast!” You say with a smile as you seat yourself at the island.
“Of course!” Izuku says with his signature smile as he sits next to you. “Any plans for the day?” He asks after a few bites of food.
You internally sigh, trying to conjure up a list of to-do’s to keep your day off from work as busy as it can be, “Uhm, I have to stop by the grocery store since I used up a lot of ingredients making a bunch of baked goods.. Akari is in for quite a surprise when they open their fridge if they haven’t already..” You say with a bit of nervous laughter.
“Ah, you’ve been staying with them, lately? How are they doing?” Izuku asks politely, though underneath, he’s still concerned that you refuse to stay in your own apartment.
“They’re doing well.. but, I think that they’re getting a bit, uhm, overwhelmed by my various hobbies, haha..” You say with a tinge of guilt as you nervously stir your soup.
Izuku sends you a reassuring smile, “I’m sure they would let you know if they were feeling overwhelmed. You know.. You still have your own apartment-”
“Izuku. You know that I just can’t-”
“Just hear me out, Y/N. I know that it still causes you pain being back there, but maybe it’ll help heal you if you go back and take the place back as your own.” Izuku advises, his tone calm yet slightly pleading. “Buy yourself some plants, rearrange the furniture, paint the walls, do something to make it different than when Katsuki was there. I don’t mean to sound harsh, but you’ve barely been there over the last few months. Realistically, you either need to start living there again or break the lease before you have to start paying rent again.” He finishes with a look of worry on his face.
You go deathly quiet, just staring intensely down at your food as your hand grips your spoon. You know that he’s right and that he would never try to hurt you by bringing up Katsuki.. But that doesn’t keep the pain in your chest from spreading. You let out a shaky sigh, your appetite completely disappearing, and you stand to clear your place.
“I should really change and head out, but thank you, Izuku. I’ll message you later.” You say stoically as you rinse your dishes, then leave the kitchen.
Getting back to the guest room you change quickly and gather your stuff. You fix up the guest room, taking the time to bring the bedding to the laundry room and put it in the washing machine. Finally, you head for the door to put your shoes on and Izuku hovers near you, guilt written all over his face.
“You can stop acting like a kicked puppy, Izuku,” you sigh out as you straighten up from tying your shoes. “I know you meant well earlier and I.. I’ll think about what you said, okay? I appreciate you caring about me at all in the first place.” You finish softly and step forward to hug him.
Izuku lets out a relieved breath and wraps his arms around you, “I’m still sorry for being so.. blunt earlier. I just worry about you, that’s all. I don’t have any siblings but after getting to know you over the last four months, you’re like a sister to me. I’m here for you whenever you need, okay?” He says softly, then kisses the top of your head.
You nod against him, emotion clogging your throat, and give him one last squeeze before you both release each other. You shoot him a wobbly smile before you open the door and step out into the hall, making your way to the elevator.
A few hours later, you’ve restocked your friend’s fridge and pantry with all of the items you used up while manically baking. They told you that you didn’t have to, but there was no way you weren’t going to replace it all when they’ve been letting you live at their house for the last week and a half. Eventually, they ask if you’ll be staying again tonight but you shake your head and thank them for being so amazing to you. With that, you gather up all of your stuff and pack it into your car before getting into the driver’s seat.
‘Izuku was right. I need to do this. I need to do it tonight before I have the chance to overthink myself out of it.’ You state to yourself as you start your car. You drive in silence the whole way to your apartment, your grip on the steering wheel white-knuckled.
Once you get to your apartment complex, your white-knuckled grip transfers from your steering wheel to your bags as you grab them from the trunk of your car. Your body trembles and your mind goes distant as you ride the elevator up to your apartment. Your stomach sinks and your heart begins to race as the elevator ascends. Finally, it stops and the doors open to the floor that you are so painfully familiar with. Your keys nearly fall from your sweaty hand as your trembles increase with each step toward your door.
The sound of them hitting the floor doesn’t register in your brain as you walk up to your cracked-open apartment door. Your bags join your keys on the floor as you, admittedly stupidly, push open the door. Reality slams back into your blank mind when your eyes meet those of some stranger who's standing in your living room. Fear pours over you like a bucket of ice water and you just fucking freeze.
Suddenly, pain explodes from the back of your head, your thoughts of what you should fucking do disappearing before any sort of move could be made, and everything fades to black.
𖤛 𖤛 𖤛
Izuku checks his phone for what feels like the millionth time today and frowns at the lack of notifications from you. With a frustrated and concerned huff, he stuffs his phone back into his pocket.
“You’ve been checking your phone all patrol, bro. Everything okay?” Kirishima asks from beside Izuku.
Izuku wasn’t supposed to work today, but a hero never truly has a day off and he was called in to cover Mina’s patrol slot with Kirishima.
Izuku runs a hand through his hair, “I haven’t heard from Y/N all day. She crashed at my place last night and left this morning after I had basically told her to go back home to her apartment and try moving on with her life. I had apologized before she left and she didn’t seem mad, but even if she was she would have messaged me by now. On top of all of that, I have this weird pit in my stomach and danger sense won’t leave me alone and I don’t know what to make of it-”
“Woah, bro, okay calm down. Tell you what, let’s finish up our patrol, then I’ll come with you to check up on her. Where’s she staying this time?” Kirishima calmly, and a bit concernedly, plans out after cutting off Izuku’s panicked ramble.
“She mentioned this morning that she’s been staying with Akari, lately. Hopefully, she’s still at their place.” Izuku mumbles out distractedly as he checks his phone, yet again.
“Okay, we’ll go straight to their apartment once we finish up at the agency.” Kirishima says with a pit of worry starting to churn in his own stomach.
The pair rush through their end-of-shift tasks once they get back to the agency and soon they are seated in Kirishima’s car heading for Akari’s apartment. While giving directions from the passenger seat, Izuku texts and calls your phone, getting met with no answers each time. His stress and worry levels only increase with each missed call and he can only pray that you’re sleeping.
They pull into the parking lot of your friend’s apartment complex, Kirishima barely locking his car before Izuku is rushing off. The pair of heroes get up to the door of Akari’s apartment, Izuku knocking as politely as he can in his increasing panic. When the door finally opens, it’s only a confused Akari standing there wondering where the hell the fire is.
Akari tells the two heroes that you had packed up all of your stuff and left hours ago. Izuku’s stomach drops at this new piece of information and his mind jumps to worst case scenarios. His biggest fear is that you returned to your apartment, decided that it was all too much, and did something to yourself. A rational fear given your severe mental instability the last few months, but still an overly terrifying thought. As Izuku and Kirishima get back into the red-heads car, Izuku mentally berates himself for not accompanying, or at the very least getting ahold of you, earlier.
Kirishima speeds through traffic, his grip on the steering wheel near crushing. He feels extremely guilty for not keeping up with you as much as he should have since Katsuki left. He just figured that you wouldn’t want to talk to him because of his part in the whole situation with him holding onto Katsuki’s things. He’s mostly been getting updates on your well-being from Izuku, an admittedly cowardly move from the man who loves to preach about “manliness.”
Kirishima shoves down his guilt and worry driven nausea as he weaves his car through traffic. He’s just as worried as Izuku over the thought that you’ve done something to yourself. He isn’t sure how he’d ever be able to look Izuku, or Katsuki, in the eye again if they find you injured or dead in that apartment. He would never be able to forgive himself for playing a part in your pain.
“Eijiro! Are you coming or not?!” Izuku’s frustrated voice breaks Kirishima from his clouded mind, the red-head just now registering that they’ve arrived at your apartment complex. The two rush through the lobby of the complex and anxiously wait for the elevator to bring them to the floor your apartment is on.
The doors open and they barrel out of the elevator, practically running for your door. Izuku gets to it first and stops dead in his tracks when he finds your door wide open. Barely stepping through the doorway the green-haired hero spots the small pool of blood on the floor and his emotions surge through him.
“Damn it!” He shouts in frustrated anguish as he steps over it to search the rest of the apartment.
Kirishima follows behind him, stomach acid burning at the back of his throat. Neither of them find any other trace of you beside your bags haphazardly tossed aside on the floor. It’s Kirishima that notices first that there is stuff missing from the apartment. He grabs Izuku by the shoulders and shakes him a bit to get him focused, Izuku growling and about to go off when he sees the look in Kirishima’s eyes.
“Don’t touch anything else.” Kirishima states ominously. “Izuku.. This.. this is a crime scene.” The red-head finishes with a sad look in his eyes and Izuku’s entire being goes numb.
𖤛 𖤛 𖤛
When consciousness comes back to you it’s slow and everything is blurry. Your head aches badly, your body feels heavy in its forced sitting position, and there’s something in your mouth. Your vision clears for the most part, aside from the slight spinning of the room if you shift your eyes too fast, and what you see makes your panic spike up painfully.
Firstly, you’re tied to a chair in the middle of a dimly lit room, possibly in some sort of abandoned building. There’s a man off to your left sitting at what seems to be an old desk and another man, a bit further to the right of the room, at the doorway. The man at the desk is clicking through files of a laptop, seemingly searching for something. It’s only when the man briefly goes to the main desktop screen that you realize it’s your laptop, the background being a photo of you and Katsuki together. Your stomach lurches and your heart sinks as a whimper escapes you, muffled by the gag in your mouth.
Your whimper catches the attention of both men and both of them look at you with smiles filled with malicious intent. Tears of fear prick at your eyes as the one at the desk tells the other to “go get Boss” and takes a tablet from his hands. A tablet that you realize is also yours judging by the customized Dynamight themed case.
The throbbing coming from the back of your skull gets worse as your breaths increase and you cry harder. You aren’t sure what they could be looking for on your laptop and tablet, you’ve always been extremely careful in burying any information that pertains to Katsuki’s job. Files tucked away within the depths of technology, locked up with passwords you’ve long forgotten and encrypted.
“So the princess woke up, huh?” A taunting voice startles you out of your thoughts and you watch a tall man enter the room with the man who was guarding the door following behind him. You mask your fear by glaring at the man as he casually strides up to you with a smirk on his face.
“Come now, princess, don’t be like that. Such an ugly look on such a pretty face.” The man coos out, condescending and sickeningly sweet.
You curse him out but your voice is once again muffled by the gag in your mouth. The man simply laughs at you as he pulls up a chair, its metal legs scraping harshly against the old laminate flooring. You cringe at the noise but manage to maintain your glare as the man sits down in front of you. His elbows rest on his knees, his hands clasping together around a phone and he leans forward to rest his chin on the top edge of it. His eyes look over your form as a twisted smile sits on his face.
“So you’re the great Dynamight’s secret little bitch.” The man states, not questions, but states. Your heart rate picks up and your glare falters slightly, making the man’s smile widen.
“I can see why he kept you so well hidden! You’re a real looker, ain'tcha? Smile so sweet it’s nearly tooth-rotting,” he continues, but now he’s opened the phone and is scrolling through picture after picture of you and Katsuki. Your glare crumbles completely as tears begin flowing from your eyes from both fear and pain over your past. Your eyes fall to your lap and your jaw clenches against the thick fabric in your mouth as you cry.
“God, where are my manners? Here I am telling a lady about how pretty she is and I haven’t even introduced myself! I’m terribly sorry, Y/N! My name is Isamu, but you may know me as Shadow Step.” Isamu- Shadow Step says with a sinister smirk and your body goes shock-still. Memories hit your pounding brain and bile rises in the back of your throat.
Shadow Step was a notorious human trafficker that would get his victims by getting them alone then using his Quirk to take them away. Once he was captured, it was discovered that his Quirk was teleporting through shadows, which was why he only struck at night. Katsuki was the leader of the team that finally took down Shadow Step and his operation. That was only a year ago, so how the hell is he back out on the streets?
“You know, you really played your part well in making all of this come full circle, princess. We were already planning on hunting you down after what we discovered at your apartment, but then you just showed up! Served yourself up to us on a golden platter! It’s honestly laughable how well things played out!” Shadow Step says with maniacal cheer, a slightly deranged laugh falling from his lips.
“Anyway, princess, you’re gunna help us with a little project. Nothing too crazy, just a little video to help bring your favorite little hero out of the shadows. Keishi, Reiji, get the princess dolled up for her role while I get the camera set up.” Shadow Step says more seriously as he stands up before ordering his two lackeys around.
One of them pulls Shadow Step’s chair away as the other roughly tugs down the gag from your mouth. Your body begins trembling and you hate how useless your Quirk is at this moment. It’s a low-level, and admittedly weak, nature-type Quirk; Vine Manipulation. You can only use it if there are vine-type plants near you and even then you can’t do anything substantial with the vines.
The two men, Keishi and Reiji, stand in front of you wearing twin sinister and sick smiles. Looking up at their faces, you’ve never felt fear like this before. Never felt such an overwhelming sense of impending doom and dread.
“Ready for your makeover, bitch?” One of them asks right before slapping you, hard. You cry out in pain, the side of your face tingling and on fire, echoes of the slap and your cry ringing out in the room.
The two take turns delivering blow after blow, ignoring your pleas to stop and your depserate cries for help. By the time Shadow Step tells them to stop your cheek has swelled up as well as one of your eyes. Blood drips from your lips while more runs down your face from the split skin above one of your eyebrows. You’re pretty sure they broke at least a couple of your ribs if the sharp pains every time you breathe are anything to go by. Tears still spill from your eyes, mixing with your blood and creating pinks rivulets that trail down your cheeks, chin, and neck.
You’re on the verge of passing out from all of the pain when Shadow Step bends down and makes himself face level with you, “I gotta say, princess, you look a lot prettier like this. You ready for your time on the big screen?”
You let out a pained and pathetic whimper that he merely chuckles at, “Your job is to just sit here and be quiet. You fail to do that and you really won’t like what happens. Got it, princess?” He says, his tone threatening and deadly. You nod weakly, whimpering when he pats your cheek a bit harder than necessary.
Shadow Step turns toward the camera, stepping up to it so that his body blocks yours out in the viewfinder screen of the camera. He motions for one of his goons to hit record and his little show begins.
“This is a message for the Heroes of our society,” Shadow Step begins in a calm, even tone with an easy smile on his face.
“I am looking for Pro Hero Dynamight, he and I have a little score to settle. I’ve come to understand that he is on a mission out of the country right now, so I need the rest of you little Heroes to help get this message to him. If he isn’t back by the end of the week, then I’ll kill the little number sitting behind me.” He states as he steps back to reveal your tied up and beaten form in the viewfinder.
“Who knew Dynamight had himself a girlfriend, I’m sure none of you did! Poor thing has been so scared since I brought her here, but as you can see I’ve been treatin’ her real well! Anyway, enough theatrics,” Shadow Step says, his face turning serious and his tone dropping low and threatening.
He pulls a gun out from behind his back and points it at you while his face is turned to the camera, “If you don’t think I’m being serious about this, then you’re dead wrong. You have four days, Dynamight.” He states in a deadly tone before pulling the trigger.
A scream tears from your throat before you could stop it as white-hot flames of pain flood your body. Your left shoulder jerks as the bullet pierces through it and your vision nearly blackens out. You dry heave and choke on cries of immense pain as the camera zooms in on your form, unbeknownst to you. You barely hear the dark laughter falling from the mouths of the three men over the ringing of your ears and your consciousness, along with your body, gives out plunging you into cold darkness.
𖤛 𖤛 𖤛
The video ends, the final frame being a zoomed-in image of you slumped over unconscious in the chair you’re tied to, blood already soaking the fabric of your shirt. The silence in the room is suffocating and Izuku has to consciously fight to rein in his rage. The fleeting thought of just how to tell Katsuki about this crosses his mind before his attention is brought back to the meeting.
“As was stated earlier, the video was posted a couple of hours ago. We don’t have any leads yet on where the location of filming was nor just how exactly Shadow Step managed to escape imprisonment. It has also not been confirmed as to whether or not the girl has any connection to Dynamight-” A HPSC representative explains before being cut off.
“Her name is Y/N L/N. She is Kacch- Dynamight’s girlfriend. They kept their relationship a secret because they feared something like this happening. Even if she was just a civilian without a connection to Kacch- Dynamight, she would still be just as much a priority rescue.” Izuku grits out, the rage-filled look on his face daring the HPSC rep to say anything countering his statement.
Instead, the rep just swallows nervously and nods their head, “Y-yes, of course. Thank you, Deku. A-alright, with that confirmation the HPSC will notify Dynamight of the event. The Directors will decide if they want to take him off of his mission or not-”
“Are you serious?!” Izuku’s head whips over to Kirishima at the red-head’s outburst. “You heard that psycho! If Bakugo doesn’t come home, then that bastard is going to kill her!” Kirishima rages, one of his clenched fists slamming down on the table.
“R-Red Riot, I-I assure you that the Directors already have a plan in the works. It’s why you all have been brought into this meeting. I’ve been told to tell you that you five have been tasked with capturing Shadow Step.” The rep anxiously explains.
Izuku doesn’t miss the way they said what the mission was, though. Of course all the Commission cares about is having the Heroes find and put a stop to Shadow Step. To the Commission, it would be easy enough to explain it away or cover it up if you were to die before being rescued. To the Commission, saving a singular civilian such as yourself doesn’t take priority over capturing an escaped villain. To the Commission, you are nothing but collateral damage.
Izuku seethes where he is seated, his mind already working on the details of your rescue and cursing the Commission that he works for. He shares looks with the other four Heroes seated at the meeting table; Kirishima, Shinso, Jiro, and Tokage. The four reflect the determined expression Izuku sends them even though Shinso, Jiro, and Tokage all still seem to be in shock by the situation. Nobody had even an inkling that Katsuki Bakugo had anyone precious in his life other than his parents, and now the entire country knows.
The HPSC rep finishes up the meeting, letting Izuku and the other four Heroes know that the Commission would contact them with anything they find. A heavy silence follows the sound of the meeting room door closing, Izuku’s guilt laden thoughts waging war within his mind with the part of him that knows he couldn’t have predicted this.
“Do you really think that the Commission wouldn’t let Bakugo come home for this? Would.. would he even want to come home?” Kirishima meekly asks, sending Izuku a saddened and worried look.
“Hold on, why wouldn’t he want to come home? His girlfriend was kidnapped.” Jiro asks with a look of confusion.
“I’m not sure if they would let him come home, but if I know anything about Kacchan, it’s that he would find a way to get back here.” Izuku says with a heavy sigh, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the table and his hands coming up to rub over his face.
“As for their current relationship status.. Kacchan broke up with her before he left for his mission. At the time, he thought that it would be better for her to be single rather than sitting around waiting for him to come back. His thought process was wrong but his heart was in the right place, and he regrets what he did. I can confirm that he very much still cares.. still loves her.” Izuku explains, cringing slightly at the harshly judgemental expressions on Shinso’s and Jiro’s faces.
“I’m just surprised that asshole could find anybody who wants to be with him, but that’s besides the point. So, what’s the plan here? Considering the injuries she had in the video on top of the gunshot wound, she may not have four days.” Shinso says stoically, his words like a bucket of ice water down Izuku’s back.
“They could be holding her anywhere. The room in the video looked like some sort of abandoned office space, but do you know how many abandoned business buildings there are in Japan? Not to mention, they could have moved locations since putting out the video.” Tokage says with solemn exasperation, rubbing a hand on her forehead.
Izuku pinches his bottom lip in thought for a moment before straightening up and tapping the table’s surface, awakening the technology beneath the glass. He pulls up a map of Japan, locates your apartment building, and highlights the point.
“Okay, so this is where her apartment is located. Let’s have Shinso, Jiro, and Tokage check the abandoned buildings within a five mile radius. You three have better stealth skills than Kirishima and I. While you three search buildings, I’ll further analyze the video for any possible clues.” Izuku says, taking charge of the situation. Shinso, Jiro, and Tokage simultaneously nod and send him looks of determination.
“Kirishima, I need you to look back through your files and give us as much information on Shadow Step as you can. You were the only one out of the five of us that was part of the team that took him down the first time. We’ll all keep in contact via our own closed Comms frequency.” Izuku directs, a look of agreement on everyone’s faces.
“One thing we all know for sure is that Shadow Step acts at night, so everybody should go rest up if you can because we’ll be officially starting this mission at sunset.” Izuku finishes with hardened determination coloring his tone and face.
𖤛 𖤛 𖤛
You’re not sure how much time has passed with your consciousness phasing in and out. Everything hurts; your head, your face, your shoulder, your ribs. You feel weak in every sense of the word but more so physically, barely being able to keep yourself sitting up. You’re still tied up, your muscles stiff and your neck seemingly stuck in its hung down position.
When you’re awake the voices of Shadow Step and his lackeys blearily echo in your ears. Whether they’re talking to you or to each other you're not sure. They’ve done the bare minimum to keep you breathing; wrapping a cloth around your shoulder to stem the bleeding and sticking an IV in your arm to keep you hydrated.
The spinning room is far too dizzying when you’re awake and the feeling of hopelessness drapes over your mind. It’s easier being asleep, easier letting your mind fall into the loss of consciousness that your body yearns for. So you let go of the fear and escape to the depths of your mind, your dreams offering a reprieve from the suffering you’re enduring.
Katsuki fakes a gag as the characters on TV kiss, cliche romantic melodies playing in the background as their kiss becomes more heated.
“This shit is so fucking cheesy I might actually die from cringing so hard.” Katsuki annoyedly rasps out.
You’re cuddled up to each other on the couch two movies into your weekly “Saturday Night Movie Marathon” and your chosen movie playing on the TV screen.
“I won’t deny that it’s cringe-worthy, but it’s all so cute, too! They’re so in looooovvvve!!” You gush with a giggle over Katsuki’s disgusted face when you look at him.
“Can’t believe you make me watch this shit. They’re all the same story, I don’t understand the appeal of it all. The main characters go back and forth for fuckin’ ever until they finally admit they love each other, then it’s end credits. It’s so damn dumb.” He grumbles out, then lets out an irritated sigh as he leans his head back onto the couch cushion.
With a roll of your eyes and your own sigh you look back at the TV with a small pout on your lips, “If you really hate these kinds of movies so much, you can just tell me to pick something different. I like genres other than ‘sappy-mushy-lovey-dovey-crap’, you know.”
Katsuki lightly pinches your side, huffing a laugh at the yelp you let out and the glare you send him, “Don’t be like that, Sweetheart. Ya know that I’m just messin’ with ya.” He murmurs into your neck as he trails light kisses along the column of your throat.
“Such a bully,” you mumble out as you tilt your head to give him better access.
“Mhm, but you love it, dontcha Sweetheart?” He says into your skin as his kisses get a bit more passionate.
Feelings stirring up within you begin clouding your mind as your breaths become airy and panted. A soft moan slips from your mouth when he kisses and lightly sucks on a particularly sensitive spot of your neck. His arms circle around your body, his hands slipping under your shirt and coming up to play with your breasts.
He pinches your hardened nipples and the airy words slip out of your mouth before you can stop them, “Ah, yes, love you, Katsuki.”
Katsuki’s ministrations come to a dead halt and your mind sobers up as shock fills you. Did you really just say that?! It’s not that you don't mean it, but more so that you two have only been together for a few months! You’re not sure if this is something Katsuki is ready for! What did you just do?! What the hell did you just d-
“I love you, too.” Katsuki whispers, his face buried in the crook of your neck and his hands clammy against your skin.
Tears well up in your eyes and everything feels so surreal, “You.. you don’t have to say it back if you’re not ready..” You whisper out as your heart races. Lifting his head from his hiding place, he gently urges you to turn around to face him. Your eyes scan over his flushed features and you take in the soft look he’s giving you.
“I love you too, Y/N.” He repeats himself with more surety in his tone and gentle determination on his face as he manages to maintain eye contact with you.
A few tears of happiness drip down your face and you surge forward, connecting your lips with his. Your arms wrap around his shoulders and you readjust your position to straddle him. The kiss turns into a heated makeout session with teeth nipping at bottom lips and tongues fighting for dominance.
The movie is forgotten as the heated passion rises between you both and soon enough there’s a pile of clothes on the floor. Pants, groans, and moans fill the air as your connected bodies move against each other. This was love-making in its truest form and you were lost in the ecstasy of it all. Both of you lost in showering one another with as much physical affection as you could show as you both worked each other toward the edge. 
Laying on the couch wrapped up in each other in the afterglow of sex, you couldn’t imagine a lifetime where you didn’t love this man.
You snap to consciousness when sharp, white-hot pain shoots through your body from your shoulder. You send a weak glare to Reiji as he just looks down at you with a sick smile on his face. His hand squeezes your injured shoulder harder, his fingers digging into the hole in your flesh. Fresh blood saturates the cloth wrapped around your shoulder and you weakly cry out, pleading for him to stop. Fresh tears stream down your face and wish so desperately to go back to the times when you were in the safety of Katsuki’s arms.
𖤛 𖤛 𖤛
Izuku can't get himself to relax, let alone get some rest. Flashes of your beaten form burn behind his eyelids and your pain-filled scream echoes around his mind. Guilt tears up his stomach and fear has bile sitting at the back of his throat. Sitting on his couch with the TV's low volume droning on in the background of his racing thoughts, he's suddenly brought back to the present when his phone starts ringing. Pulling it from his pocket his stomach drops when he sees the caller ID.. It's Katsuki.
Taking in a shaky breath, Izuku accepts the call and brings the phone up to his ear, “Kacchan.. I-I’m s-so sorry.. I.. I sh-should have d-” Izuku softly begins, stuttering as emotions clog his throat, but his apology is cut short.
“Izuku,” Katsuki whispers out and Izuku doesn’t recognize the hollow despondent tone his childhood friend has taken on.
“Kacchan?” Izuku’s voice cracks as he speaks, the sting of tears making him blink rapidly.
“The Commission sent me the video.. Wanted me to confirm that it was actually Shadow Step and not some imposter.. Like I’d actually know that somehow without fucking being there..” Katsuki pauses, a couple of labored breaths then a sniffle filling the silence before he speaks again.
“Th-they.. They didn’t even say anything about, Y/N.. I-I told them that I wanted to come home, that I need to come home, but they won’t take me off of this mission, Izuku.. They won’t let me COME HOME! Wha-what am I gunna do?! What sh-should I do?! I-I c-can’t let her- Wh-what if she- This can’t be- I-” Katsuki’s words descend into a muddled mess as his breathing picks up and even if they hadn't been friends for so long, Izuku could recognize a panic attack anywhere.
“K-Kacchan, you need to calm down. Slow your breathing, okay. Deep breaths, just copy me.” Izuku calmly coaches through the choked sobs wracking his chest.
“I.. can’t.. calm.. down..” Katsuki wheezes out, his anger and fear evident despite his inability to breathe properly.
It takes a while, but Izuku eventually gets Katsuki to even out his breaths, both of them left panting in the aftermath.
“She’s gunna die, Izuku, and it’s my fucking fault!” Katsuki openly sobs out, his voice breaking and full of anguish.
“We’re not going to let that happen, Kacchan. Listen to me! I will not let her die at the hands of that bastard! Just focus on getting back here, forget what the Commision wants.” Izuku says with steely, firm resolve.
“I won’t make it back in time, Izuku! It took me four fucking days to get out here! What if you guys can’t find her in time, huh?! The last fucking thing I ever said to her was that breaking up was best for both of us! She’ll die thinking I don’t fucking love her!” Katsuki shouts over the phone, his voice raw and breaking further as he crumbles down to nothing.
“I promise you that we will find her alive, Kacchan! Just get your ass back home as soon as you can, okay?” Izuku says firmly, trying desperately to reassure Katsuki.
An hour later, Izuku hangs up his phone with a long, exhausted sigh. It had taken him longer than expected to bring Katsuki back to more rational thinking. Coupled with the task of trying to get Katsuki to trust that Izuku and his team will find you, it’s safe to say that Izuku is beyond tired. But there isn’t any more time to rest because it’s time for Izuku to meet back up with the other four Heroes on his team.
Izuku arrives back at the meeting room from earlier in the day just after Kirishima. The two of them only have to wait a few minutes before the other three Heroes on their team walk in and Izuku is quick to get into the details of their tasks.
“This map has been linked with the ones on your phones. Pinpoints of all of the abandoned buildings within a five mile radius of Y/N’s apartment have already been marked. Just let us know over the Comms every time you clear a building and we’ll mark it off of the list.” Izuku says in a serious tone, his mind focussed on the tasks at hand.
“I’ve already called in the best stealth-based sidekicks I could find. Each of you will have two accompanying you to help clear buildings faster. Report any piece of potential evidence you find, anything and everything could be imperative to the mission. Alright, pick your zones and head out. Your sidekicks will be waiting for you in the lobby.” Izuku further explains before essentially dismissing Shinso, Jiro, and Tokage.
Given the extreme importance of the mission and the time constraints, the three choose their zones and quickly head out leaving Kirishima and Izuku alone in the room.
“You look rougher than you did earlier man.. Did you get any rest?” Kirishima gently asks as he takes in Izuku’s worn-out appearance.
“I’m fine. I couldn’t manage to sleep, then.. Kacchan called. He’s a mess, Kirishima.. I’ve never heard him so broken before even during all of the crap we all went through at UA.” Izuku quietly says as he watches through the video, his eyes searching the background for anything.
Izuku hears Kirishima swallow thickly as the red-head shuffles through the files he brought. “I really hope that we find her in time..” Kirishima whispers, seemingly more to himself, and Izuku’s fists clench.
“We will,” Izuku grits out as he replays the video, this time at a slower speed.
After what feels like years of replaying the video and looking over the information Kirishima dug up on Shadow Step, Izuku’s exhaustion catches up with him and he snaps a bit. “Fuck!” He exclaims frustratedly as he sits back in his chair and rubs his hands over his face.
“Nothing at this building either, Deku, it’s clear.” Jiro’s voice comes through Izuku’s earpiece. The green-haired Hero growls out an “okay” and marks the building off of the map in front of him.
“Listen, man, if you wanna take a brief break, then I can handle the Comms for a bit..” Kirishima tries to offer, face full of concern as he looks at his friend and fellow Hero.
“I don’t have time to take a break. We have to find her before time runs out. I don’t know what else to do, there’s nothing in the video that would point us any closer to finding her. All of the buildings that the stealth team have checked so far have brought up nothing. What else could we possibly che-” Izuku cuts himself off from his exasperation-filled rant as an idea hits his brain.
“God, why didn’t any of us think of this sooner? Damn it!” He growls out as he brings up another hologram screen from the table.
“Think of what, man?” Kirishima asks confusedly as he scoots closer to Izuku.
“Security cameras,” Izuku mutters as he pulls up mini screen after mini screen of camera footage.
“Fuck.. okay, tell me where you want me to pull camera footage from. We can divide up the search between us both.” Kirishima says as he moves to a different part of the table and pulls up a hologram screen.
Izuku tells him where to start, then the two are nearly silent as their eyes search through hours worth of traffic and security cam footage. Occasional muttering from both of them fills the room, as well as Izuku’s responses to the stealth team. None of the five Heroes come up with anything until Shinso’s shaken voice comes through the Comms.
“Mid- Deku.. I found the room the video was filmed in,” Shinso informs Izuku, and the rest of the team, gravely. Izuku’s whole body freezes up and his eyes whip to the map to see where Shinso’s location is pinged. The map shows Shinso in a building about two and half miles South from your apartment complex.
“Deku, there’s a lot of blood on the floor here..” Shinso says, his tone disheartened, and Izuku’s nausea comes back at full-force.
“Shinso, stay there and wait for the police to arrive. Jiro and Tokage, take your sidekicks and all of you start searching the abandoned buildings around Shinso’s pinned location. From what we’ve gathered on Shadow Step’s Quirk he can’t teleport very far and his teleportation may be made more difficult if he’s transporting Y/N around.” Izuku orders while trying his best to keep in his Hero mindset and not let his emotions take over.
Izuku looks over at Kirishima, about to tell him to start searching the camera footage from around Shinso’s location when he pauses, “Kirishima, do you need a moment to step out?” Izuku asks as he looks over Kirishima’s stock-still frame and pale face.
Kirishima’s eyes snap to him and he shakes his head, “N-no. I’m fine. What do you need me to do?”
𖤛 𖤛 𖤛
You’re brought into a hazy and slightly delirious-feeling consciousness by the feeling of someone changing your IV. You don’t have the energy anymore to make anything other than a small, barely heard, and weak whimper. You’re not sure how long it’s been since the day the video was made, since the day you were fucking shot. With the state that your body is in and Shadow Step constantly transporting you through shadows to different abandoned buildings, everything is blurring together.
Being awake is becoming more and more unpleasant and surreal. Your entire body hurts. You feel sick; feverish but freezing, weak, trembling so much that your teeth chatter. The thought that your gunshot wound may be infected has crossed your dazed mind, but you can’t do anything about it. All they’ve done for it is change the wrapping a couple times only because the three of them keep agitating the wound, making it bleed more.
You don’t even know how you’re still alive, honestly. Between the blood loss and the possible infection, you really feel like you should be dead. Hell, you almost wish Shadow Step would kill you before his self-set timeline ends just so that you don’t have to endure this any longer. At the same time, you pray that Katsuki is out there trying his best to find you.. Because even if he doesn’t love you anymore he used to and that has to count for something, right?
But you also know Katsuki.. You know that he never half-asses anything. If the mission he’s on isn’t finished, if they still need him out there, then he’s not going to abandon it to save an ex.
Whatever ends up happening, whether he comes home or not, you know that you won’t resent or hate him. Even with being in the most emotional and mental pain in your life during the last four months, you’ve never once hated him. Sure, you were pissed as fuck in the beginning, but your love for him hasn’t faded. There’s always been that voice in the back of your mind telling you that he hadn’t meant it. That he hadn’t meant to hurt you. That his heart was in the right place despite his fucked up execution of the situation.
As your blurred sense of reality fades out and you slip back into memory-filled unconsciousness, you grasp tightly onto the hope that all of this ends soon one way or another, and a small smile weakly tugs at your lips at the memory your mind begins playing..
You’ve looked over your entire outfit five times in the mirror by now, making yourself run borderline late. It’s been a while since you’ve been on a first date, so the world can kiss your ass for stressing over every detail. With one more touch up of your already perfect makeup, you breathe out a shaky sigh, then grab your purse.
The drive to the restaurant goes fairly smoothly and you pull into the parking lot 5 minutes before you’re supposed to be there. A soft gasp of shock and awe leaves you when you turn your car off and finally take a good look at the place. It looks ridiculously fancy and much too expensive for you to even be parked in the parking lot. You re-read the message Bakugo had sent you a couple of days ago detailing how to enter the building and ask about the reservation while exercising as much privacy as possible.
Admittedly, you were a bit apprehensive about going on a date with him at all. The man is freaking Pro Hero Dynamight and you had always told yourself that you didn’t want to be with someone like him. Someone who not only puts his life on the line every day, but who also has eyes on his every move at any given point. But a few casual conversations with Bakugo at your part time job at a local (but somewhat fancy) coffee and tea shop later, he somehow managed to charm you into going on a date with him.
In the days leading up to this date Bakugo had assured you plenty of times that he would do everything he could to keep things relatively private and just between the two of you. You had learned that while he is a Limelight Pro, he very much values keeping his private life just that; private. So you decided to trust his word, ignore the thoughts begging to know why he would want to even go on a date with a random-nobody-part-time-barista, and now you’re here.
Here.
At a fancy ass restaurant.
Feeling severely out of your league and still wondering how you ever caught his eye.
With a racing heart and shaky hands you grab your purse and get out of your car. Making your way up to the front doors of the restaurant, one hand fidgets with your necklace as the other grips the strap of your purse just a little too tightly. Walking through the door your eyes immediately search the sea of faces for the server Bakugo had mentioned in the message. A small sigh of relief leaves your mouth when you spot them and you politely wave them down.
“Welcome, ma’am! Is there something I can help you with?” They politely ask with a warm smile and it makes you feel a bit more comfortable already.
“Yes, uhm, I’m the other party for the reservation under K. B.” You tell them with a nervous smile.
“Ah, I see! Let me just check something..” They say as they look down at the tablet in their hands for a moment.
Your eyes glance down at the tablet and you watch them pull up a photo of you. You recognize the selfie as the one you took the day prior and had sent to Bakugo when he had asked for it. You had found it a bit weird when he initially asked, but he had explained the purpose shortly after receiving the photo.
“Perfect! If you’ll just follow me this way, please! Also, if I may say, you are just as gorgeous in person!” The server says, their smile kind and still just as warm, and your cheeks flush.
“Thank you,” you say shyly as you step forward to follow them. The blush deepens a bit when you think back to yesterday when Bakugo had commented on the photo and called you beautiful, even though it was just a simple selfie.
The server and yourself weave through tables and groups of people until you both reach a door with a gold plate that reads “VIP Seating” on it. The server slides a keycard through the handle and it beeps, signifying that it’s unlocked. They push it open, holding the door so that you can walk through, then they let it swing shut and wait a moment for it to lock again before proceeding to lead you to your table.
Looking around as you walk you notice that there are significantly less tables in this section of the restaurant and it doesn’t take you long to spot Bakugo. Your breath catches in your throat when you see him seated at the table leisurely sipping on what you think is whiskey on the rocks. He’s wearing a deep green button up with a black tie and a black vest, black slacks, and expensive-looking, glossy dress shoes. He looks stunning and you feel underdressed despite wearing your most expensive dress and a pair of pricey, name brand stilettos Akari let you borrow.
As you get lead closer to the table, Bakugo’s eyes stray from the window he was looking out of to scan the room. His gaze immediately catches on you and you watch his eyes widen a bit as they look your form up and down. You feel self-conscious but stifle a giggle as you watch him tug his collar a bit before he quickly moves to stand.
“Your table, ma’am! I’ll give you both some time to look over the menu but in the meantime, would you like something to drink?” The server says and you give them your drink order, then they’re off.
“Hi,” you say shyly as you look at Bakugo, your blush returning a bit.
“Hey,” he gently rasps out, his eyes still slowly roaming over your body causing your feelings of self-consciousness to return in full.
You look down at your dress and begin to nervously ramble, “I-I hope I dressed up enough.. you said this place was fancy, but I didn’t know it was this fan-”
“You look amazing,” Bakugo rushes out, effectively cutting you off, and your face practically catches fire. “Ah, uhm, let me get your chair for you.” He says in what you interpret as shyness, which you find adorable. As he walks around you to your chair your eyes catch on the pink tips of his ears, also freaking adorable, and you stifle yet another giggle.
He pulls out your chair and you thank him as you sit, scooching the chair toward the table with his assistance. ‘The brash Pro Hero Dynamight is actually such a gentleman, who knew?’ You playfully think to yourself as you watch him make his way back to his chair.
“You look pretty amazing yourself,” you say as a random bout of confidence hits your system. Your confidence and comfort only rises as you watch his cheeks begin to pinken. He sputters a bit before grumbling out a “thank you” and you let your giggle slip out this time around. He sends you what’s supposed to be a glare but the corners of his mouth tick up and there’s a playfulness in his eyes. The night rolls on with easy getting-to-know-each-other conversation, amazing food, and a comfortable atmosphere.
Everything is going so well, flowing so easily and feeling so right, but you’re still unsure if this is something you want to pursue further. It’s only when you get back to your car with Bak- Katsuki’s suit jacket over your shoulders, Katsuki wearing a mask and beanie that don’t match the rest of his attire at all, and he lowers the mask on his face to kiss you goodbye that your heart seems to stop as your brain comes to a startling realization..
You’re starting to fall, really hard, for this man.
𖤛 𖤛 𖤛
To say that Izuku is emotionally, mentally, and physically wrung out would be an understatement. He and the rest of the team have spent day and night the last three days trying to find you with minimal success. Every building checked has turned up with nothing except more blood along with bloody bandage wraps, empty IV bags, and increased frustration. Not to mention the very few camera sightings of Shadow Step and his two accomplices, the sightings only being slivers of the man in the corners of the frames or glimpses of him slipping into shadows.
It doesn’t help that Izuku’s phone has been getting inundated with notifications from Katsuki, his childhood friend messaging or calling him every chance he gets between flights. Izuku has stopped answering Katsuki’s calls, though, simply because that every call is full of frustration-fueled screaming matches that end with gritted out apologies. The green-haired Hero feels for his friend, he really does, but he can only take so much of his yelling and berating. They’re not in school anymore and they’re actually friends now.
“This building is clear, Deku. No sign of them passing through here.” Kirishima reports as he walks up to Izuku, his face and tone heavy with tired frustration and sadness.
Izuku can feel his hold on One For All slip and green lightning radiates from his body as he struggles to keep from punching a wall, “Fuck!” He yells, his voice echoing throughout the room he was searching.
Kirishima lets out a heavy sigh and turns to leave, “C’mon man, lets go check out the next on-”
“I found them.” Tokage’s hushed voice crackles through the Comms, but it feels as though she shouted it into Izuku’s ear as her words ring through his brain. He just stands there shocked for a moment, briefly thinking that his overly exhausted mind is playing a cruel trick on him, before he dashes into action.
“Copy that. Pulling up your location now. Keep them in your sights, but keep hidden. All other Heroes and sidekicks start heading for Lizardy’s location.” Izuku commands as he moves as fast as he can out of the building, Kirishima just barely keeping up behind him.
On their way to Tokage’s location, Izuku had told Shinso and Jiro to wait for himself and Kirishima near a building about a block away from the target building. Izuku had also taken to using Blackwhip and Float in order to move faster, unfortunately having to use one of his Blackwhip tendrils to carry Kirishima. The red-haired Hero didn’t seem to mind this form of travel except for maybe the slight look of fear when he was initially lifted off of the ground.
The two get to the established meeting spot just after Shinso and his sidekicks, and they don’t have to wait but a minute longer for Jiro and her sidekicks to arrive. Izuku immediately hashes out a plan of attack, making it a priority for someone to get you first if they can.
“Everyone ready?” Izuku asks with eager determination and receives nods of confirmation filled with just as much determination. “Lizardy, do you copy?”
“Yes, I copy.” Tokage answers quietly.
“We’re set to get into position. Are they all still there?” Izuku asks as he nods at those around him, a silent command to get moving.
“Yes. Shadow Step is on his phone and his two lackeys are sleeping.” Tokage quietly reports.
“What about Y/N?” Izuku asks as his fear tries to override his Hero Mode.
“She’s tied up and on the floor in the West corner of the room. She appears to be sleeping as well, but Deku.. I don’t think she’s doing very well..” Tokage informs and her voice takes on a somber tone.
It takes incredible effort for Iuzku to shove down his emotions as he tries to keep himself together to complete the mission, but he manages to do it, “We’re all here, she’ll be fine. Lizardy, once everybody has confirmed their positions, I want you to send your hands into the room with a pair of Quirk canceling cuffs. Try to get them onto either Shadow Step’s wrists or ankles, then report if you managed to do so or not.” Izuku tells her as he reaches his position.
“Everyone else, if Lizardy succeeds, rush in immediately. If she isn’t successful, hold your positions and be ready for a chase.” Izuku quietly directs the others, receiving confirmations from the whole group.
“Alright, sending the cuffs in now.” Tokage whispers, her concentration on the task heard in her voice.
Izuku feels like he waits against the wall of his position forever, the Comms quiet and his heart racing a millions miles a minute. He notes just how dim it has gotten out and for the first time in his life he curses a sunset. His biggest fear right now is missing this opportunity because he knows that once the sun has set, Shadow Step will move you to another building. If he and the team lets that happen, then it’s back to square one and the possibility of getting you back alive practically diminishes.
There wouldn’t be enough time to hunt down Shadow Step, not with it already taking the team three whole days to find him now. Add that to the fact that Katsuki is only about halfway through his second to last flight back to Japan. Even if more Heroes were brought onto the case there just wouldn’t be enough fucking time.
The seconds tick by agonizingly slowly and Izuku has to fight the panic trying to grasp at his lungs. They have to save you. He has to save you. He doesn’t think Katsuki would be able to move past it if you died. Izuku isn’t even sure if he would be able to get past it if you died and he’s only friends with you. Katsuki, though, Katsuki was your boyfriend. He was and still is very serious about you as Izuku has come to find out. So serious that a month before Katsuki had found out that he was being sent on a mission he had bought a ring. A ring that you never had any idea about. A ring that Izuku only knows about because Katsuki drunkenly told him everything about your guys’ secret relationship a few nights before he shattered your heart. A ring that sits securely tucked away in a safe with the letter Katsuki had given Izuku the day he left for the mission.
So yeah, it’s safe to say that Izuku is feeling every ounce of pressure of making sure this massive opportunity is not fucking wast-
“The cuffs are on, everybody move in now!” Tokage shouts into the Comms and Izuku doesn’t hesitate for even a second rushing up the final flight of stairs that lead toward the room you’re being held in.
It’s pure chaos when Izuku bursts into the room, Shinso and Jiro right behind him with Kirishima trailing not too far behind them. Izuku bypasses Shadow Step’s lackeys as they rush the door, their adrenaline seemingly knocking away their sleep. Shinso and Jiro quickly garner their attention, fighting them to keep their attention away from helping their boss or getting to you.
Izuku finds Shadow Step lying on the ground with his ankles cuffed together. He almost counts it as a victory until he watches one of Shadow Step’s arms reach behind him, mostly likely trying to grab his gun. But he doesn’t get the chance to even touch the weapon because Izuku quickly restrains him with expertly controlled tendrils of Blackwhip. He manuvers Shadow Step so that he can cuff his wrists and secure the bastard’s gun.
“Who’s available to come take this bastard outside to wait for the police?” Izuku calls out, his eyes focused on your slumped and still form in the corner of the room.
“I got him, man. Go see if she’s okay.” Kirishima says after he’s finished helping Jiro cuff one of the lackeys.
Izuku waits until Shadow Step is firmly within Kirishima’s grip before rushing over to you. His stomach churns just looking at the state you’re in and stomach acid burns at the back of his throat when he gently puts his hands on your heated and shivering body.
“Y/N? Y/N, can you hear me? Come on, Y/N, wake up.” Izuku gently urges as he pushes the hair away from your face.
You let out a weak whimper, a string of whispered pleas to stop and to not hurt you anymore leaving your dry, cracked lips. Izuku’s heart breaks and he gently hushes you, telling you that it’s okay and that you’re being rescued.
���K-Kats? Y-you fou-found m-me?” You stutter out weakly, your breaths labored and your eyes still closed as Izuku holds your head up for you.
“It’s Izuku, Y/N.. Kacchan isn’t back yet, but he’s on his way, I promise. He’s trying to get back as fast as possible.” Izuku quietly tells you through his tears as he cuts the ropes off of you.
You don’t register Iuzku’s words, your infection-induced delirium and barely conscious state not letting you grasp his words, “I-I st-ill love y-you, Kats.. Do yo-you..” You don’t get to finish your question before you pass out, but Izuku can guess what you were going to ask.
A strangled sob leaves his mouth before he reigns himself back in and gently wraps his arms around you, “He does, Y/N. He does still love you.” He whispers out as he carefully stands with your limp form in his arms.
𖤛 𖤛 𖤛
It takes a few days of being in the hospital’s ICU being pumped full of meds before you wake up with any sort of clarity. You couldn’t have any visitors because of the risk of an exposure to anything that would worsen your condition. It’s not like you would have remembered anyone visiting you if they could have, you were unconscious practically the whole time between the meds and your body being so weak.
But today you wake up of your own volition and it’s the best you’ve felt in what feels like years. The world doesn’t have a delirious haze over it, the pain in your shoulder and head have reduced down to dull aches, and your appetite has returned if the pang in your stomach is anything to go off of. You slowly reach your good arm out to press the call nurse button when the door suddenly bursts open causing you to flinch back and pain radiates through your body.
Katsuki’s angry tone slams rather than floats into the room with the opening of the door, “I’m done fuckin’ waitin’! Doc said she would probably wake up feeling better today since her healin’ has been on track, so I’m fuckin’ seein’ my girlfrie- Holy shit, you’re already awake?” He asks in disbelief when he finally looks at you.
“Just woke up,” You say quietly, your voice hoarse from lack of use and you cough a bit. Apparently the nurse that had been trying to keep Katsuki out of your room is just as shocked that you’re awake and lucid because it takes Katsuki demanding that she go get some water to knock her from her trance. She glares at Katsuki for a moment before telling you that she’s going to go get you some water and tell the doctor that you’re awake.
The door closes and the room fills with heavy silence, the only sounds interrupting the silence being your heart monitor and breathing. Katsuki just stares at you and when you can’t stand meeting his gaze any longer you look down at your lap. The hand of your good arm fidgets with the thin hospital blanket pooled at your waist as too many emotions whirlwind around your brain and heart.
“Can I, uh, is it okay if I sit?” Katsuki asks hesitantly and you almost want to say no, but you’ve never been good at saying no to him.
“Sure,” you say quietly and nearly regret it because with every step he takes toward the chair next to your bed, you feel the dam you didn’t know you had up within you crack. Your hand grips the blanket tightly when he sits and your eyes start stinging. You can feel the heavy weight of Katsuki’s gaze on you but you know that if you meet it the dam will completely crumble and you’re already trying so hard not to cry.
The silence that has settled back over the two of you is broken when the nurse comes into the room with a cup and a pitcher of water, “Alright, hon, here’s some water. Sip slowly, okay? Also, the doctor should be by within the next hour to see if you’re ready to transfer out of the ICU.” She says sweetly as she sets the water and the cup down on the bedside table.
She looks between you and Katsuki for a moment before asking, “You sure you want him in here right now, hon?” Concern coloring her features when she sees the shine of tears in your eyes, both of you ignoring the irritated sigh that leaves Katsuki.
“Yes, I’m sure, thank you. I’ll hit the button if I need anything.” You say with a small smile and take a couple sips of water.
“Okay, hon. Remember, small sips.” She says before she’s out of the room, the door slowly shutting once more.
“Y/N, I..” Katsuki starts and your hand tightens around the cup at his soft, saddened tone. “I don’t know where to start.. I’m so fuckin’ sorry-”
“You weren’t there,” You whisper out before you can stop yourself, tears finally tipping over the edges of your lash lines.
“I-I know, Baby-” He tries to butt in, his voice already wrecked and guilt-ridden, but you cut him off again.
“N-no, you weren’t there, Katsuki. You left for that mission and you weren’t in the apartment anymore. Not you, not your stuff. You weren’t there.” You continue, crying as you speak. “S-so I couldn’t be there either. For four months I slept on Akari’s couch, or in Izuku’s guest room, or in a hotel room. I-I even fell asleep at my desk at work a few times. You weren’t home, so I wasn’t either. For four months that apartment sat empty, void of people, un-until I-I decided t-to-” Your sentence hangs in the air incomplete as your breathing picks up at the bits of memories of what had happened that day flash across your mind.
“Fuck.. Y/N, Sweetheart? Breathe, Sweetheart. C’mon, take some deep breaths for me Baby, please.” Katsuki tries verbally coaching you through your panic attack but, much to his overwhelming concern, it isn’t working.
“Dammit, c-can I touch you? Is that okay, Sweetheart?” He desperately asks and all you can do is nod your head. Katsuki is quick to rise from his chair to carefully slide himself onto the bed. Being hyper aware of your healing injuries, he gathers you up into his arms and takes your hand into his, gently squeezing it.
“Okay, Baby, remember how we used to do this? Listen for my breaths and focus your attention on our hands.” He rasps softly, then begins taking slow and even deep breaths as his hand gently squeezes yours to the rhythm.
A few long-feeling minutes go by before your breaths even out and you’re left crying into his chest. He stays quiet, soothingly rubbing your back and lightly resting his head against yours, as he waits for your crying to subside. An additional five minutes later, your cries are little more than quiet sniffles and stray tears rolling down your face.
There’s a long moment of not-quite-silence before you speak again, “Izuku had convinced me that I should go back-”
“Sweetheart, you don’t have to talk about it if you’re not rea-”
Cutting each other’s sentences off seemed to be the theme of today and while you would normally just let someone speak, you needed Katsuki to hear this. You needed to tell him what had happened the day you were taken and..
“But I don’t blame him for what happened. He hadn’t told me to go back that same day, he just said that I should do it soon. Suggested that I go back to the apartment and do whatever I wanted to reclaim the space as my own so that I would stop thinking of it as ours. I know that he didn’t have any ill-intent behind the suggestion. I wasn’t doing very well, Kats, and I know that he was worried. He was just trying to help me bounce back.” You say quietly and pause for a brief moment to just listen to the sound of Katsuki’s heartbeat.
Katsuki remained quiet, surprisingly enough, so you continued on, “So when I left his place that day, I went back to Akari’s and gathered my stuff, then drove home. I know that I should have messaged him. I know that I should have at least brought Akari with me, though I’m glad that I didn’t.. Wh-when I got there, Kats, the door was cracked open and..” You trail off as you mentally berate yourself for being so stupid.
“Sweethe-”
“..and I pushed it open because I’m that fucking stupid! I just walked inside like finding your apartment door broken open is fucking normal and that’s when I saw one of Sh-Shadow S-Step’s guys in the living room.. Do you know what I did next, Katsuki? I just fucking stood there! I didn’t scream, I didn’t run, I just stood there like a fucking moron! That’s when, either the other guy or Shadow Step himself, hit me in the back of my head and I blacked out.” You push on with your retelling of the events, Katsuki’s hold on you growing a bit tighter.
“Baby, just-”
Tears begin rapidly falling down your face again and a sob leaves your mouth, “I-I’m s-so s-sorry, Kats! I-I’m so f-fucking sorry! I-I-I di-dn’t mean t-to wor-ry eve-everyone! I-I j-just-”
“Y/N, stop.” Katsuki says firmly, his face pained as he gently forces you to look at him. “You are absolutely fucking not going to blame yourself for getting fucking taken by that guy, do you hear me?” His voice cracks as he speaks and you notice the glisten of tears in his eyes.
“If you want to pin blame on somebody, then pin it on that bastard, Shadow Step. Pin it on the dumbfucks who let him escape prison. Pin it on me.. Fucking pin it on me for leaving you the way that I did because maybe if I hadn’t.. Maybe you wouldn’t have ended up nearly dying! I’m the one who should be fucking sorry, Y/N, and I am! I am so fucking sorry and whatever I could possibly do to make it up to you, just tell me and I’ll do it! Please, Baby, I love you so much, I’m sorry.”
You’re both crying by the time Katsuki finishes, holding onto each other tightly as tidal waves of emotions slam into you both. Your heart breaks as you listen to the man you love sob into your shoulder and you pray to the universe that you never hear it again as you cling to him.
“I haven’t and I never will blame you for this, Katsuki. You couldn’t see it coming as much as I couldn’t.. But I’m okay now. I’m alive and safe and I love you too, Kats, so much.” You tearfully stutter over sobs, and Katsuki lifts his head to look at you.
He cradles your face in his hands, his thumbs wiping away your tears as best he can, “I know we’re both kind of gross from crying-” he softly starts and you can’t help the huff of wet laughter that leaves your lips.
He attempts to glare at you but his face is too soft, too loving, for it to pack any sort of heat, “-but, would it be okay if I kissed you?” He finishes, pink dusting his cheeks a bit and a small, wobbly smile on his lips.
“Have I ever made you ask for permission before?” You weakly tease as you lean in toward him. He meets you halfway, slotting his lips against yours without adding in any sassy comeback beforehand.
In that moment, it’s like you come alive again, like you’re home. It may have only been four months without him, but with everything else that happened stacked on top of those four months, you could have been convinced that it was a lifetime. Sure, you have some things that you’re going to have to work through, both with Katsuki and yourself. There’s definitely going to have to be some work put in by both of you to rebuild trust and you’re most definitely going to have to get some therapy to help work through the shit you went through getting kidnapped.
But for right now, you let yourself sink into the feelings of home, safety, and Katsuki’s love.
𖤛 𖤛 𖤛
{A few months later}
“Izuku, I’m telling you right now that if I trip over something one more time because of this whole ‘put on this blind fold and I’ll guide you’ bullshit, I’m going to lose it and you will be the victim of that wrath.” You grit out half-jokingly when you stumble for the fifth time since this endeavor started.
Izuku laughs, obviously not taking your threat as seriously as he should, and helps to steady you, “I promise you that we’re almost there! Also, do you really think that I would let you get hurt? Kacchan would kill me- awff!”
Izuku lets out a weird noise as your elbow meets his stomach and now it’s your turn to laugh, “What the hell even was that? Oh my god, that was funny! Okay, back to business, we’re almost where, exactly?” You question in hopes that he’ll actually tell you this time.
“Nope. Elbows to the stomach aren’t as effective as you may think, but nice try! All you need to know is that we’re almost there!” Izuku answers all too cheerfully for your taste and a pout forms on your lips.
After an indeterminate amount of time continuing on this lovely nature walk, you’re assuming it’s lovely since you can’t freaking see, Izuku finally  lets you know that it’s coming to an end, “Alrighty, just around the bend here.. And look at that, there’s Kacchan!” He excitedly exclaims and you fight the urge to elbow him again.
“Izuku, I can’t see anything, I’m fucking blindfolded.” You state in the most unamused tone you can muster. You hear two huffs from two different directions, each depicting two different emotions. One of them is the little pouty huff Izuku does when someone gets snarky with him and the other is the huff of laughter you know so well to be Katsuki’s.
“Kats, Izuku made me put on this blindfold and then he tried to kill me multiple times on the way here.. Wherever ‘here’ is.” You whine at your boyfriend, your lips forming back into a pout to hide the playful smirk tugging at them.
“He wouldn’t let anything happen to you, Sweetheart. His whole career is based on keeping people from getting hurt, plus he knows that I would kill him.” Katsuki says matter of factly and you can hear the mirth in his voice.
Behind you, Izuku makes a triumphant noise like he won something, “See! I told you- awff! Dammit, stop doing that!” Izuku makes the hilariously weird noise again after you elbow him in the stomach, again, and you can’t help the evil little giggle that leaves your mouth.
“Alright Sweetheart, stop abusing the nerd,” Katsuki says after he’s done laughing. “And do me a favor, yeah? Step forward about six steps, and before you say anything, no you aren’t going to trip on anything.”
Taking a brief moment to flip Katsuki the bird for his teasing, you hesitantly begin to step forward. You count the steps in your head since Katsuki was weirdly specific about it, then stop when you’ve taken the sixth step. You are beyond confused about what the hell is going on here, but you trust Katsuki so don’t question anything aloud.
“Hmm.. actually, take one more step forward.” Katsuki says in a quieted and calculating tone, he sounds closer to you now and that supplies more questions in your mind. Regardless, you take one more step, then just stand in place, your hands fidgeting with the hem of your shirt.
“Now, turn around.” Katsuki says and you can hear a bit of nervousness enter his voice.
“Kats, what’s going on? Are you oka-” You ask concernedly and your hands come up to peel off the blindfold.
“Don’t! Ah, j-just, don’t take that off yet.. please.. And, could you just turn around? Please?” He asks and you can hear his nerves turning into slight irritation, so you mumble out a ‘sorry’ then turn around.
You hear a bit of shuffling behind you and you begin to feel genuine concern and anxiety about what situation you three could possibly be in. After about a minute of shuffling noises and small grunts from behind you, Izuku’s voice pipes up from a bit of a distance in front of you.
“Okay, Y/N, you can take off the blindfold now.” He calls out and you breathe a sigh of relief as you pull the cloth off of your face.
You blink a bit against the bright rays of sunlight and when your vision adjusts you see Izuku making a “turn around” motion with one of his hands. His other hand is holding up what looks to be Katsuki’s phone, the front pointed at you as if he’s taking a video. You send him a look of utter confusion as his hand motion gets more urgent and his smile grows wider.
Hesitantly, you turn around and what you see has you gasping with tears immediately spring to your eyes.
Katsuki is down on one knee with a maroon colored velvet box clasped in his hands looking nervous as hell but wearing a handsome, genuinely happy smile on his face. Behind him, just past the ledge you both are near, is a breathtaking view of a canyon full of lush greenery and a river running right down the middle of it. Bringing both of your hands up to your mouth, you try to wrap your head around what’s happening.
“Y/N L/N, you have been the most consistent thing on my mind since the very first time I saw you. The day we met in that little cafe there was something about you that wouldn’t shake itself from my thoughts. I don’t know if it was your smile, your cheesy charm, or the way you treated me like I was just a normal customer, but you’ve had me hooked since then.” He pauses for a moment when a tearful giggle leaves your lips from his teasing little dig and you melt at the adoration in his eyes.
“I tried my damndest not to fall for you, especially when you had mentioned you didn’t think you could handle a lifestyle like mine, but with every conversation we had, you had me wrapped around your small ass finger more and more. I know that I’m difficult and I’ve fucked up, but you keep loving me. It’s probably one of the most terrifying things I’ve ever encountered in my life, but it’s also the most incredible.” Katsuki’s emotional staring is so intense and you almost want to shy away. You're a blubbering mess by now, absolutely drowning in his affectionate speech, and he keeps going.
“What we have is something that I’m never going to try to get rid of.. again..” Guilt flashes across his features when he says this even though you both have worked through it you know that he still beats himself up over it. But his happiness comes back in the blink of an eye and he continues, “So this is me tying ya down, Sweetheart. I love you, Y/N, more than I ever thought possible for someone like myself.”
He pauses one more time, his eyes darting down to the box in his hands as he opens it and presents it to you, his loving gaze meeting yours, and what he says next is the most “Katsuki” thing you think he could say in a moment like this..
“Y/N L/N, my Sweetheart, will ya fuckin’ marry me or what?”
Your laughter mixes with your happy crying as you fall to your knees, every form of “yes” you can think of at this moment spilling from your lips as he slips the ring onto your finger. Cheering is heard from Izuku as you pull Katsuki in for a passionate kiss, your heart so incredibly full that it feels like it’ll burst.
Katsuki is the first one to pull away from the kiss and he faces toward Izuku, raising your left hand into the air triumphantly, “We’re gettin’ fuckin’ married!!” He shouts and it echoes down the canyon along with the cheers from Izuku and yourself. Joyous warmth fills your chest and all you can think about is how Y/N Bakugo has such a delicious ring to it.
Tumblr media
Note ~ Lovelies.. this fic definitely made me have.. feelings. Nothing even close to how emotional I was when I wrote One Life After Another, Forvermore but still, feeelliinngggsss lol. I really do hope that you enjoyed the read, though! And if there are any typos or errors please point them out because I finished and posted this fic to here on literally zero hours of sleep. I really do be just running off of nicotine and sheer fucking will lmao. Anyway, if you read past this note you will be entering "extended ending" territory, so just beware because it's sad. Big sad. I also may be overdramatizing it, but y'all can let me know. I love and appreciate you, Lovelies! <3
Tumblr media
𝑨𝒍𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒏𝒂𝒕𝒆/𝑬𝒙𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒅 𝑬𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈
The image of you, Katsuki and Izuku fades out until the emptiness that surrounded you when you first ended up here comes back. You’re on your knees as gut-wrenching sobs rip themselves from your chest. If there is a god, just how cruel of a being is he if he’s willing to show you how your life would have played out if you didn’t die? Does he get some kind of sick joy out of making you watch a movie of everything you ever could have dreamed of obtaining if you had just survived.
If you would have lived, would have kept breathing for maybe five minutes longer, the day they found where Shadow Step was hiding you then you could have had all of that. But you didn’t live. You didn’t survive. You died slumped against that wall mere minutes before Izuku came bursting through that damn doorway. Your body had just given up, so fucking pathetically too.
You had stood near your body watching Izuku sob as he performed CPR and you had screamed for him to bring you back. You watched him nearly kill the paramedic as they tried to, respectfully, pull your lifeless body away from Izuku to put it into a bodybag. You watched as the “ever-smiling” Hero Deku held your cold, dead hand the entire way to the morgue with nothing more than a disconnected look on his face.
Later that night, you watched the love of your life stand next to your body with tears streaming down his face as he ran a finger down your cheek. You watched as his face contorted into horrified disbelief and he stumbled over to a trash can in the corner of the room just barely making it there before he threw up whatever was in his stomach. You watched as the man you loved with your entire being cursed, screamed, cried, and destroyed the room until he was on his knees beside where your body laid. You watched as Katsuki screamed at your body that he was sorry, that he loves you, and that he wishes that it was him that was dead. You watched as your Katsuki hoarsely begged you to come back to him even though within his ever-logical brain, he knew that it wasn’t possible for you to come back.
You had never known what happened after someone died.
And now that you do know?
You wouldn’t wish this upon your worst enemy.
Not even on the man that sent you here in the first place.
Tumblr media
Tag List ~ @bri-mercado-00 @queenpiranhadon @feral-ratatattat-king @queendynamight2001
Divider Credit ~ @saradika
198 notes ¡ View notes
doyoulikethissong-poll ¡ 5 months ago
Text
Submissions are CLOSED.
01CEST - 18CEST 1st of June (find the current time here)
RULES:
Submissions will only be open during this specific time, then the askbox will close. (that means no questions or other things can be sent to me at that point for a while)
All required information needs to be filled in! Any submissions that lacks any of required info will instantly be deleted.
I want to showcase more non-English songs! So please specify which language the song is in. Write instrumental instead of language on instrumental songs. Also remember to add country of origin of the artist because it's more fun to hear things from all over the world, not just "the usual" bunch! (yes, english songs from north america & europe are still fine to add!)
Artist Song title Year Genre Language Country of origin
Again; all of the above needs to be specified or the message will be deleted.
Artists that have previously been featured on the blog are welcome back, of course! Just make sure to not submit songs that have already been posted!
The first 220 songs are all listed here. The songs between 221 and 230 can be found as listed in the Showdown polls. Of course it's ok to add songs being covered by other artists than the original! (final choice which goes is up to me though)
For artists on a smaller scale and/or that are very local and have basically no info to be found online, please do make sure to send along a blurb with info about them and their song. :) It doesn't have to be much, but something is better than nothing! The songs needs to be available on Youtube and/or Spotify for people to get the chance to listen and discover the full versions.
There will be a maximum of 7 SONGS PER USER, so make sure to send them all in ONE message to my askbox. Only users that already follows this blog are allowed to submit songs, obviously, lol. New and empty accounts don't count, don't be daft! 😂 Anything sent to me from a freshly created account will be deleted because you haven't even had time to discover and follow this blog yet.
Double-check all the info before sending it in, there's no rush unless you're very last minute. :'D If you send in multiple messages instead of a single one, they will be deleted.
There's still way over a thousand songs from before to go through 😅 All the old song submissions are still waiting in my askbox, so if you've already submitted them you don't have to re-submit them. 💖 So with both the old and these new songs, please have patience for them to be added. 😅💖
Example of submissions: 1- A-ha - Take On Me, 1985, synth-pop, english, norway 2- MĂĽneskin - Zitti e Buoni, 2021, glam/punk rock, italian, italy 3- Youssou N'Dour and Neneh Cherry - 7 Seconds, 1994, ballad, wolof/english/french, senegal+sweden
Tumblr media
time table made here
139 notes ¡ View notes
reactionimagesdaily ¡ 4 days ago
Note
Reaction images aside, how are you holding up?
Aww, thanks for asking. :P
To be honest, I'm probably doing better than most. I'm a healthy cishet white man who lives in the UK, so I don't have nearly as much to worry about as I know a lot of people do. (Also hey, I'm enjoying the new Dragon Age game, so that's been nice.) But I also know what kind of ramifications this election is bound to have, both inside the US and beyond.
(I mean, the world's biggest democracy is getting overtly more hostile and authoriarian in real time (y'know. again), and I know on this side of the pond we've got some real brain donors who'd love to see something similar happen here. I'm worried about what Trump could do once he's back in charge, and I'm worried about what might happen to my own country, with it's 'special relationship' to the US, as a result. And I'm not alone in that.
All this on a fuckin' Wednesday...)
Anyway, I had a longer thing written out here about the concept of orthopraxis (just while I was trying to get my thoughts in order, lmao) but the core of what I want to say is this:
I think we're about to see an uptick in people being shitty
I'm going to counter that by doing un-shitty things
What do I mean by un-shitty things? Well, I've been meaning to participate in Amnesty International's 'Write For Rights' campaign for months - I just fired off my first email today. I've already donated to causes supporting Gaza in the past, but now I'm also planning to write to my local MP about how annoyed I am that my country is still culpable in genocide. Make my voice heard, you know? I also want to keep making art that people enjoy, because I think that's important. And I'm going to buy another commission from an artist I like, because they could probably use something good in their life right now. And... to be honest, I'm not sure what else I'll do yet. When I figure it out, though, I'll try and actually do it.
Maybe for you, un-shitty things mean something smaller scale. Hugging your loved ones for longer, or giving that loose change you always carry around to the next homeless person you see. That's good too. Maybe it's something larger in scale, and that's awesome! But to anyone who's reading this, I'd definitely recommend doing something that not only feels good, but is also TANGIBLE. Not only does doing feel good, but it means that you're improving someone else's life, in however small a way. Which, y'know. Net positive, innit.
(Yes, I'm aware this is basically the 'when you see someone being so mean it inspires you to be kinder meme', lmao. No, I don't really care.)
You asked me how I'm holding up? Well, the first thing I'd like to do is respond to your question in kind: how are you holding up? In a general sense? In specific ways? Hopes, anxieties, plans?
And the next thing I'm going to do is tell you that I'm more than holding up.
I'm locking in.
73 notes ¡ View notes
centrally-unplanned ¡ 11 months ago
Text
In my list of orphaned projects is a big damn essay on the fertility transition , which I never wrote. I had this in the docket for almost a decade, back when worrying about fertility rates was still a hot take. But alas the ship has sailed, everyone is talking about it now and has written it all out already, and I have mountains of projects, so I will just outline it quickly, sans graphs and footnotes. Maybe doing that will incentivize me to write up a full one someday, and it also gets my cohesive viewpoint out there.
The Future Is Exowombs & the Global Fertility Transition
The Trendline
The fertility transition has long roots - going back to 19th century France, originating in metropoles like Paris and culturally exporting itself to the countryside.
It seems broadly linked to material prosperity in ways that are load-bearing, one implies the other.
It is a 'sticky' cultural transition - once a country begins to move towards lowered TFR it never recovers outside of temporary blips.
It is not related to "western" cultural norms or specific contingencies of religion or ethnicity - those can matter at the margins, but rarely make a huge difference.
Starting in the 1990's, following sharp increases in A: global economic growth and B: global cultural diffusion/global monoculture, a trendline that used to be reserved for wealthy countries has rapidly accelerated, affecting countries at almost every income level. The fertility transition is now fully global.
The Cause
The primary driver of this phenomenon is the positive realization of desires - and by that I mean it is not something forced on people due to a lack in their lives.
It is not primarily caused by growing singleness; the number of people having any kids at all today is lower but overall pretty similar to the number of people who did a hundred years ago. It makes a marginal difference but not a huge one.
It is not linked to money, or housing prices, or other economic issues - fertility rates do not notably change with income levels or other price factors. At the margins, sure, but not at relevant ones.
It is not linked to specific technologies like contraception. People have understood how to prevent pregnancy for centuries - though like many things they do contribute at the margins. Additionally, you can’t uninvent them.
It is by a large majority linked to the death of large families. It was previously common for there to be families with 5 or more children, sometimes way more. 10+ children was not that rare in the past.
These families were disproportionately engaged in agricultural production; cities have always been fertility sinks.
In a world of manual household labor, rural living, low rights for women, low economic opportunities for women, and high death rates for children, these large families made sense. The 'opportunity cost' of the endless pregnancies & sicknesses was low (economically, not gonna handwave the immense personal toll)
All of these reasons have vanished. People want to have families, and love their children. But enduring multiple painful pregnancies, putting your career on hold, and spending huge chunks of your lifespan on child raising no longer tracks. The experience of having ~2 children is superior, along almost every metric, than the experience of having ~5 children for most people. This is what I mean by positive desires - the family structures of the past were built on misery and necessity, and will not return willingly.
The Problem
Many will point to the economic & social consequences of the Fertility Transition. They are very real, particularly at sub-1.0 fertility rates. If you are South Korea today, you have no plan for how your economy will truly support itself 50 years from now - you will vanish as a country in a few generations.
The focus on nearish-term crises also misses the opportunities lost - economic growth is premised on specialization, and specialization is premised on scale. A smaller world is a poorer world per capita, and a less innovative world, problems which have compounding effects. The difference in the long term is orders of magnitude.
But, far more importantly than any of that, is that we are nowhere close to the capacity of the earth to support humans. Supporting double or even triple the current population of the earth is trivial; a 10-fold increase would be quite easy, particularly once innovation is factored in. Being alive is a good of worth incomparable to anything else - the 'future' is literally defined by it. Time only meaningfully passes through the eye of one who can behold it.
The Failed Solutions
Money cannot buy lifespan or reclaim lost time - all attempts to throw money at the problem of fertility can help at the margins, but won't change the fundamentals. Some people want to have 2 kids, but can only afford 1. Or are prioritizing a career, but will work part time to have 3 kids. But the current policy crop of tax benefits or subsidized child care has not found a way to make someone truly want a larger family size, just mitigate gaps between desire and ability - and only barely.
Could radically larger amounts of money solve this problem? A professional career track in giving birth, 100k+ salaries for full-time mothers? I am open to the idea - but society isn't. The fiscal transfers needed are too radical for the current political environment, no one is proposing this.
Immigration was frequently proposed as a stop-gap, but its a 90's idea, premised on the idea that the Fertility Transition was a western problem that other countries did not face. It is not and never was; as every country's fertility declines, immigration becomes a zero-sum solution.
Turning back the clock on cultural change is A: impossible, the material logic of modern industrial production broke the need for it, and culture is downstream of material constraints. And B: its barbaric - if your answer to humanity's obstacles to greater flourishing is to condemn half of it to misery, we are better off dead.
So population levels will either stagnate or decline - unless something intervenes.
The "Future" Aka Getting Rationalist On Main
Exowombs, aka artificial wombs, allow you to grow a human child outside of the need for a person to incubate it. The baby (hah) step they let you do is strongly lower the cost of having a child; this is time & health given back to a mother, it will make having larger families easier.
But that won't fundamentally, shift the reality - that most people only want 1-2 kids, they don't want to raise more than that. However, with exowombs, you don't need to; you can make children outside of a family's desire for one. You can do that pretty trivially, actually. A society, if committed to solving its fertility issues, could mass-produce people with exowombs. Which would be very good to do ethically, because living is good and I personally don't think kids at orphanages should be euthanized to end their suffering, they are fine.
If some society, somewhere, did this, they would rule the world in a few generations. No one else is solving this problem, and meanwhile the human capacity to live on Earth is being woefully underutilized. Before natural human growth would solve this eventually - now it seems that will never happen, so anyone who actively tackles the problem wins. They literally win the future, by being the future.
Now, no one is going to do this soon - proposing this idea is not my point. Exowomb research is harshly regulated or illegal everywhere, modern society hates the idea of this kind of experimentation. We are, in so many ways, allergic to the idea of solving this problem. It doesn't even have to be exowombs, maybe we do the salaried mothers idea. My point is just the illustration - the future where there is 100 billion people dwarfs any current trendline future. That hypothetical dominates the worldline space, because arriving there organically seems to have faded away. The fact that we are not going to take that future, that it is probably gone now, is really, really sad.
But of course there is the other solution, the reactionary specter - instead of the technological solution, we choose the social one, of cultural regression and expanded reproductive control. I am not so worried about this, personally? Because I think it would unsustainable and result in a lot of bleed to liberal societies. It should not be taken lightly though - in a world where everyone has 1.0 fertility, and the social and economic consequences are becoming dire, I wouldn’t discount the willingness for radical solutions. I myself prefer the technologist side. But I think odds are we don't get either, just the long decline.
TL;DR - don’t let the Mormons win. Build exowomb factories.
275 notes ¡ View notes