#canon all might pales sadly in comparison to the

[cherryblossomshadow]

I'm rewatching BNHA right now, and I am SO SALTY about All Might. I don't want to yuck anyone's yum, so scroll past pls if you don't want to hear some harsh words about All Might

All Might does NOT get to fit this bill, in my opinion, because he is NOT a good mentor for Deku. Maybe he would be a good fit for someone else. But all of his advice to Deku comes down to "try really hard." Not actually that helpful

And all of the "small talk" they could engage in is cut off, quite rudely actually, by All Might himself.

I actually don't know how I missed it the first time, maybe bc Deku worships him. But if you actually look at the things All Might says to Deku, it's all things like "stop crying" and "stop muttering" and "don't give up, even if you break all your bones." Being emotional and muttering a lot are like two big staples to Deku's behavior. If All Might can't handle even an ounce of either one, does he even actually like Deku? He wasn't impressed by the kid until he saw how very very ready he was to die. Does he even like the kid? It doesn't feel like it

I don't think All Might knows any of this about himself, but it's not a good look

I trust big muscled people because I feel like they just want to give me advice on how to live my best life and impart mass amounts of motivation on me

their muscles are filled with compassion 

[grishaversecommunityyy]

The Grishaverse Ship Survey Results

So! After all of that, we finally have the results! What is the general opinion on the ships in the Grishaverse? Well, that’s for you to read below! It’s actually pretty interesting and, while some parts make sense, there were definitely some parts which... surprised me... Anyway, onto the results!

Everything in this post can be split into:

The Grisha Trilogy

Six Of Crows Duology

The Nikolai Series

Shadow and Bone: TV Series

Most Enjoyed Ships

Least Enjoyed Ships

Crack Ships and Shipping Discourse

Notes from the Survey 

(note from mod emily: i tried to bold all of fritz’ comments, but i might have missed a few! be aware there are two of us analysing here :))

The Grisha Trilogy

The first book series we asked about was, of course, the first chronologically: the Grisha Trilogy. The most popular ship, with 83% voters for this series selecting this, was Genya/David (Fritz was glad to hear that; Yes I am). This is likely due to the lack of alternate romantic interests in the series, which seems to be a major issue for Alina’s ships. It also seems to be one genuinely enjoyed by most fans, in contrast to Darkling/Alina and Mal/Alina (each around 30%) and Nikolai/Alina (just under 20%), for which I have definitely seen plenty of debate. The second and third most popular ships for this series were Tamar/Nadia (55%) and Nikolai/Zoya (47%). Interestingly, Genya/Alina (43%) and Zoya/Alina (30%) ranked surprisingly high, especially considering how few of my friends and associates I hear talking about them. Good for them!

Honourable mentions:

Alina/Sun (no doubt inspired by that crack fic I wrote a while back) (Still havent read that out of fear)

Alina alone (a common concept among those surveyed, though most mentioned it later)

Zoya/Genya or Alina/Zoya/Genya

Six Of Crows Duology

This series was a little less divided, I would say. Predictably, Kaz/Inej came out on top with a whopping 96% of voters (:relieved:), with Wylan/Jesper next (90%) and Nina/Matthias just after (83%). None of the others really came close, despite Nina/Inej gathering 35% of the votes and Colm/Aditi at 25% (yeah, I’m not sure why that was so popular on AO3 either, but nobody really has objections so I assume that’s why it amassed so many votes). As Six of Crows is decidedly less divisive about ships and doesn’t have such controversial ships (more on that later), it seems the fandom agrees with canon pairings and the votes are... pretty unanimous.

Honourable Mentions:

Jesper/Wylan/Kuwei

Polycrows (platonic or romantic)

Kaz/Inej/Nina

Whoever didn’t read the instruction about this being for only the book series and put Jesper/Milo. I will never escape. 

The Nikolai Series

This one is a little harder for me because I actually haven’t read this... so over to Fritz for analysis! But first, the stats. At 85%, the most popular ship is Genya/David, followed by Zoya/Nikolai at 77%. Tamar/Nadia and Nina/Hanne draw at 61.5% and Nina/Matthias has 56% voters onboard. There’s no real honourable mentions for this one, sadly. Hello Fritz here! Read the books and very glad to see Genya/David as the top ship as it damn well should. Although still a bit surprising since its more of a side-arc of the two and only ties in with the importance of the story at a specific chapter that I feel like I don’t need to elaborate about, if you read Rule of Wolves. (I believe the popularity of the ship also sky-rocketed due to ROW) Following of course Zoya/Nikolai, the high ranking makes sense, it is the main ship and lets be honest they deserve it <3

I think the only really surprising thing about this is the high votes for Nina/Matthias since [SPOILERS CROOKED KINGDOM] he’s dead so I feel like people should move on from that. Nina/“Hanne” having not as high a ranking as I would’ve thought, but with Matthias still being in the frame I guess we shouldn’t be surprised either.

Shadow and Bone: TV Series

This one is really interesting, with the exclusive show watchers now taking part! We have 89% voting for Kaz/Inej, 76% for David/Genya, 71% for Matthias/Nina, 67% for Ivan/Fedyor (that’s a thing???-->Yeah they had a few somewhat sweet interactions in the background-->nvm i watched it you’re right fritz) and 62% for Mal/Alina. What’s really surprising is how high Malina is compared to Darklina, with Darkling/Alina at 36%. Who knows, maybe Fritz’ analysis can shed some light on this?

Yes yes Fritz to the rescue: First of all we have to see their interactions a little different from what we already knew of them by the end of episode 8. I still think it is a surprising number, since the Darkling in the show isn’t as nasty as he was in the books BUT over all his actions are now seen on TV. We all thought the deer antlers were a necklace amirite? Well no apparently not, the darkling used the worst kind of small science to fit Alinas collarbone to the bone and out comes a gruesome sight: a reason why many people might have started thinking: Wow what a disgusting person he is. And on the Malina “ship”: Mal finally has personality!! jkjk :eyes: Mals and Alinas friendship has been portrayed way better in the show and I believe that the people noticed more chemistry between them especially by the end of season 1. So I’m still a little surprised Darklina has such a low ranking (what with him being all sweet and cuddly in the middle of the show) but it makes sense and the Malina ship as well. Their vibes are just *chefs kiss* and thats coming from someone who didnt even like any of these “ships” <3

Loving the quotation marks for the word ‘ships’, Fritz. Over to the honourable mentions!

Honourable Mentions:

Jesper and Milo (isn’t milo a goat? guys, why?)

Nadia/Marie (huh that didn’t appear anywhere else)

One person had several - Kaz/Inej/Jesper, Dubrov/Mikhael, Dubrov/Mikhael/Mal - and yeah, you can really see the show differences in these mentions right? (whose dubrov...and whose mikhael...)

16% actually voted for Inej/Alina which is wild to me because of book context (they did have chemistry in the show tho :cowboi_smirk:)

Another person with several! We have Nina/Inej, Genya/Alina, Zoya/Alina, Zoya/Genya/Alina. Very sapphic. Good for you.

Kaz/Jesper and Nina/Inej all in one

That’s a lot of honour and mentions but it’s so interesting to me and I think you should see too

Most Enjoyed Ships

The most enjoyed ship was Kaz/Inej. This had unparalleled support, being at 35%. Jesper/Wylan, which was next on the list (23.5%) and Nina/Matthias (18%) were also pretty popular. Most of the others were quite low, though interestingly Mal/Alina only had 1 vote (plus one for the show version). Overall, the SoC ships were a lot more popular in this section, which makes sense - this part is really about your favourite ship, and those were more unanimous in the last sections.

Least Enjoyed Ships

Most people said Darkling/Alina, which got 47% of the NOTP votes. A lot more people disliked Darkling/Alina than liked Kaz/Inej. Make of that what you will, but I take it as a somewhat general agreement among many of you guys. Mal/Alina was also strongly disliked at 22%, but around a half or more of these were clarified to be about the book version of the ship specifically. They really must’ve upgraded in the show! Jesper/Kuwei and any other Darkling ships were also voted by a few, but all of these pale in comparison to the anti-Darklina votes. Shoutout to the person who said Apparat/Anyone. I agree, though it’s not something I thought of before seeing this response. Also one person said they didn’t like the poly ships, which I hope meant just the ones mentioned earlier and not all poly relationships in general... Another shoutout to whoever said Kaz/Heleen, because why did I have to read that. A fun question, all in all!

Crack Ships and Shipping Discourse

I love talking about crack ships, so let’s start with that! This time, I really don’t want to have to count and list because... well, let me show you:

I think that sums up the sheer variety, to be honest. Then again, it would be rude not to mention that the most popular were Jesper/Milo, Darkling/Nikolai and Alina/Sun. (If you’re still confused about that last one, I take full responsibility.)

YES KAZ/KRUGE I SUPPORT!!!

Honourable mention to this:

which was a lot to take in, and:

Now for the discourse. Yep, the part you probably came for. 

Actually... maybe you didn’t? Looking at all of these responses, I see a lot of people genuinely don’t care about ship wars and so on, and often enjoyed the books regardless of the romances involved. Quite a few disapproved of the ongoing (though small) wars between Darklina and Malina, and others had a similar line of thinking, saying we should maybe stop focusing so much on it. You guys are right. I know this is a ship survey, and the conclusions should not include that shipping isn’t as important as we make it (Yes it should), but... that’s where it’s at.

And then again, a lot of you guys expressed disapproval for Darkling/Alina, discussing how it is often one-sided and manipulative and overall unhealthy, so I could be completely off with that last one. Some people mentioned that they ship this but as a slightly different version that the one given to us, recognising the flaws of the canon ship.

Someone said they headcanon Tolya as aroace (OMG YES!!). We need more aroace characters, so thank you for that headcanon :) We also have a few gay ships mentioned here, and one person telling us they love Malina. Yes, you’re right - it’s pretty unpopular, it turns out. Someone else said Alina should’ve been single, and I agree, actually!

One person rickrolled me here. Thankfully, Youtube’s ads saved me. *wipes forehead*

I leave you all with this, in the end:

Notes from the Survey

Statistics Stuff:

The top ships were taken from AO3, so some ships may be more focused on in other books and may not provide accurate statistics for an earlier series.

The main circles this was sent around may have had bias as most people are from the same discord server, which has debated these topics in the past. Hence certain ships may have lower-than-average results. In future, this could be improved upon by sending this to other servers and areas of the fandom.

Personal bias may be present in the analysis, though I have tried to minimise this in the more formal sections.

Observations and Notes from Me:

You guys really don’t like Darklina. Or you love it. Usually one or the other. Wow.

Be glad I didn’t talk about any of the cursed ships in this. The things I have seen... (:cowboi_eyes:)

I thought more people would rickroll me, ngl.

What Surprised You Guys:

Kaz/Inej/Jesper

A few of you guys saw some of those cursed ships, and that surprised you. Well, me too!

Nikolai ships being in the TV Show section at all, what with his character not being in the show (yeah what was up with that huh tztz)

Inej/Alina

The existence of The Severed Moon

Darkling/Nikolai(/Alina)

How fun the quiz was :D

Things You Sent Me:

Bee Movie copypasta

“Nobody expects The Spanish Inquisition!”, except via an AO3 link

A fun fact about enzymes! I liked this one

Fic recs for Feriku and Sarai (esp for Wylan/Jesper shippers)

Another rickroll

Nice compliments :) aww you guys

I asked everyone for some kind of placeholder name and never used it. Sorry! But hey, anonymity, right?

Closing Statements

If you got this far (I feel like ive been sitting here for hours), thanks for reading! This was fun to do and I hope you enjoyed all of this too! The survey is still open for anyone who hasn’t done it but wants to. If I get a huge amount of new responses, I might update this post! But for now, adios!

-mod emily (and mod fritz)

[shreddedparchment]

Heavy is the Hand You’re Dealt

Part 3

09/04/2019

Pairing: Steve x Reader, Thor x Reader         Word Count: 9,980

Prompt: Imposter - Bearson

Masterpost          Warnings: angst, smut, unprotected sex, canon level violence

A/N: This is the chapter where canon goes out the window. This is again, for @youngmoneymilla ‘s 5K challenge. It was supposed to be two parts. Now it’s gonna be four. I don’t know why I even try to limit myself. I suck at short stories. Anyway, I hope you like this one. More fun parts in this one I hope. Let me know what you liked. If you reblog, thanks for reblogging! xoxo

“Where is she?” Sam asks, eyes scouring the digital map for your unique frequency.

“Somewhere in Germany.” Bucky points, showing Sam the unique pattern of captures.

“Man, that was our mission.” Sam complains.

“Hey, if it keeps us home, I’m not going to complain.” Bucky counters.

“She should have just taken the shield then.” Sam continues to gripe.

Bucky looks down at the base of the map, thinks for a second, then with the knowledge of being broken, the forever etched reality that sometimes there is no coming back from certain types of heartbreak, he shakes his head.

“She’s not ready for it yet.” He tells Sam and they look at each other, both reliving the exact same moment for what must feel like the hundredth time.

~~~~~~~~~~

Bucky looks out towards the water, the ghost of his sad yet grateful smirk falling away as he spots the old man on the bench.

“Sam.” He calls out, knowing somehow that it’s him.

Sam approaches and he smiles. Strange to see someone that only moments ago looked young look aged, a long and happy—by the looks of that smile on his face—life lived.

“Cap?”

“Not for a long time.” Old Steve tells Sam and slowly Sam sits.

“How-?”

“I stayed.”

Sam’s smile suddenly falls away and he looks back towards the house and Steve knows what he’s thinking.

“She didn’t take it well.” He says sadly. “I’d forgotten how bad it was…”

“You heard?” Bucky’s made his way over, stopping at the other end of the bench. “I didn’t think you’d go through with it.”

“I found my home.” Steve tells them and they exchange a quick glance.

“Here.” Steve reaches over by his right foot and brings up what must be his shield wrapped in a leather protective sleeve. “This is for her. She knows how to use it. I taught her. And she’s-”

“She’s not going to take it, Steve.” Bucky shakes his head and old Steve turns to look at him, his withered face looking suddenly tired and sad. “Not now.”

“Someday she will.” Steve assures him.

“You don’t know that.” Bucky argues.

“It’s hers.” Steve insists. “She’s the right choice.”

“Steve,” Sam begins. “I don’t know if you really grasp what you did here.”

“You take it. You’re a good man, Sam. I trust you. You’ll take good care of it.” He tells Sam, placing the shield in his hands. “Until she’s ready.”

“She might never be ready, Steve.” Bucky counters.

“She will be. I know her. She…” Steve sighs, it almost seems taxing on his entire body to breathe in and out.

“What do you know?” Bucky suddenly says, suspicious.

“Thor will leave.” Steve says, throwing them off.

What does the God have to do with anything?

“It’s important that you give him a reason to come back. Two years.” Steve holds up two wrinkled fingers and looks at Bucky and Sam in turn. “In two years, don’t forget to bring him back.”

“Why?” Bucky asks again, sounding a little more upset.

Steve stares out at the water, and with the last rays of the sun dancing along sending golden flecks of glitter across his face, he shakes his head. Disappointed.

“I messed up. Just once.” He confesses.

“Steve…” Bucky frowns more deeply, growing angrier by the second.

“I came back.” Steve explains, voice weak and feeble. “I mean, I will come back. To her. Because I regret it. Peggy and I have trouble…we were trying to have kids, but Peggy wouldn’t get pregnant so, I got very low.”

Bucky looks away from his friend, turns towards the water then leans his elbows on his knees and buries his face in his hands, sliding them up until he’s pulling slightly at his own hair.

“You’re gonna come back?” Sam asks, shocked too.

“I stayed—will stay for only a week, and it’s very important that Thor is here.”

“Why would you come back?” Bucky demands, lamenting at the thought as he looks at Steve then over at the house and back.

“Peggy is pregnant when I get back home. It is important that I go back.” Steve explains and Bucky scoffs, shaking his head as he gets to his feet.

“So, you’re not worried about what your coming here does to Y/N but rather the fact that Peggy is already pregnant, and you need to go back for her.” He’s so upset, and Steve can see that.

There’s nothing that Steve can say that will explain the complications of his new life. His chosen life. He can’t regret coming back to you, even if it was too late. He does regret having you as an option again because just a few more encounters alone where he might have penetrated that outer shell, then maybe you would have taken him back and maybe he would have stayed and maybe he wouldn't get to have lived the life he had with Peggy, but he would have had you.

You, who’d torn him up inside in ways that he hadn’t known were possible. Yes, he loved…loves Peggy but she couldn’t touch what you had. Two separate loves. Both deep. Both had seen him through a war, but yours had given him so much more.

Your love had seen him through the age of no hope. Peggy’s had been another hopeful light amongst the many in the fight against Hydra and the Nazis. Everything had seemed possible back then. Not easy but attainable.

You had put him back together when there were no possibilities left. When all hope had faded and all the two of you had was a broken, shattered, emptier universe.

He’d had you. And he had been damn lucky.

He knows what he did…he knows that he should pay for it. For how he hurt you.

“Can I see her?” He suddenly asks, looking back towards the house with such a yearning. His old heart, having lost Peggy, wishes for you. Wants you. But he’s old now. He’s got nothing for you.

“What?” Bucky asks, incredulous.

He doesn’t know if it’s luck or maybe fate, but as Steve looks back at the house again, the front door opens, and you descend the stairs by the porch looking just as pretty as ever. Young and beautiful. Your eyes are swollen and red, tear stains on your perfect cheeks. Your ever so kissable lips are pale and bitten through. Chapped but probably just as soft as Steve remembers…

You hadn’t let him kiss you that last time. He’s ashamed he had even tried.

You breathe in as you walk down, breath shaking as if you’re still sobbing it all out.

You have your shoulders slumped, drawn down and in against the world. The despair in your pretty eyes tears Steve’s heart to shreds.

His own pain, the memory of leaving you, is a ghost in comparison to the fresh cut you must feel. It’s been years for him. A lifetime. For you, only what? An hour? Two tops?

Despite the way he’d ripped out your heart, he can still see your softness. Those gentle, sweet hands that had coaxed him out of his own dark pit of despair when the Snap and its consequences had weighed heavy on his own shoulders. Even though you’re not smiling, he can actually picture it. Your honey smile so warming and soothing. Your laugh…that laugh…that soothing chuckle that had comforted him over and over.

Like this, even though you’re sad, he can still picture you eased beneath him, so open and his. All his.

His old heart feels the sting of jealousy as he remembers what’s to come.

It’s a strange and overpowering sensation because he hasn’t felt jealousy with Peggy in years. So many years. She'd been completely his and yes, he’s grateful…but you’re right there…and he gave you up.

Voluntarily. Idiot.

He gets to his feet, surprisingly spry for his age, and turns to look at you as you walk down the slope towards the driveway, keys in hand. His old car. Your car now.

You’re wiping your cheek with the heel of your palm, sniffling as you come close and as Bucky and Sam both rise beside him, Steve watches them draw your eye.

For a split second you almost smile. He recognizes the twitch of your cheek muscles but then your eyes fall on him and you halt.

It takes you a moment, but you recognize him. You see through the aged exterior and your lip trembles.

Steve can’t stand it.

It had been a bad memory for him. Something that crept into his dreams and gave him nightmares. The day he left one future behind to build another in the past. It had all been within reach and he’d left it behind.

Yet, here you are, feeling it all for the first time and it’s all made fresh for him. He wants to apologize and give you the world but he’s…he’s lived his life. Without you.

And that must be what you’re thinking too because your lip tremble goes away and he can see this truth, the truth that he’s lived his life in full without you having kids and getting married and finally giving up the responsibility of saving the world for someone who isn’t you.

What you'd once asked him for, “Let’s just go, Steve. We'll move out to the country like Tony and Pepper and we can start a real life together. We’ll have each other and if…if it happens then, maybe kids?”

Steve has been almost fast asleep and he'd hugged you close in his arms and dreamt of that future but he never mentioned it again and neither did you. He knows now that you never stopped wanting it. And Steve gave that to someone else.

All of that passes through you and he sees the hardness sets in.

This hardness he’s seen before—or rather the one he will see in two year’s time. This is the moment that sets it in place and he only just now realizes it.

“No.�� He says, pleading with you to keep your heart open because he doesn’t want to do that to you.

He’s already done so much…not this too.

You look at your keys and because it’s his car, you drop them and head for the road to walk home.

You’re still so obstinate and if Steve wasn’t so worried about the pain you’re in, he’d be smiling because he knows, that’s my girl.

“Bucky-?” Steve begins, turning to his best friend.

“I’ll go give her a ride.” He tells Sam then looks at Steve. “You should stay away for now. Go home.”

“Bucky…” Steve repeats, feeling a twinge of sadness that even his best friend is upset with him.

Bucky doesn’t respond right away. He walks a few steps then stops and breathes out a huff of air. No matter how upset he may be with Steve for leaving you and then having the audacity to come back because things aren’t going as smoothly as he’d hoped, it’s Steve.

“Make sure you send me your address, Steve. We’ll catch up.” Bucky softens, nodding at his own idea. “I wanna hear every last bit of it.”

Steve smiles.

~~~~~~~~~~

With Fury back, you were able to relinquish your duties and with his permission, signed back onto the new S.T.R.I.K.E. team. But then you went rogue and left them after only a month and you’ve been on the move ever since.

You still receive the missions, Fury isn’t opposed to you getting them despite Sam and Bucky’s pleading. You always go alone. Dangerous. Reckless.

You don’t live in the tower or, hell, they don’t know where you have your figurative hero cape. They only know that you switch on your tracker when you’re on mission and back off when you’re done.

Bucky disapproves though he secretly hopes that you’ve found yourself someone.

Sam is annoyed about it by now. Especially since you keep intercepting their assigned missions and don’t even have the courtesy to invite them to go with you.

“She’s going to get herself killed.” Bucky sighs, quietly. Frowning, he looks at the date and leans back in his seat.

“What is it?” Sam asks, knowing that look on Bucky’s face well.

“It’s two years in a month.” Bucky points out, gesturing at the date with his chin as he crosses his arms over the tight red t-shirt he’s wearing.

“Yeah, so?” Sam asks, then he remembers. “Oh, right.”

“Do you have a way to-?” Bucky begins to ask, but Sam cuts him off.

“One God of Thunder, coming right up.” With that he leaves the room to contact Thor and get him back on Earth.

You’re pulled back in. To the newly renovated tower. Where he’d once been. Ages ago. When friendship was all you had.

He’s on that couch where the two of you sat and watched a movie. He’s on the counter where he leaned in close and rubbed shoulders with you and made you fall for him even more. He’s by the sink where the two of you washed dishes and splashed each other in a rare moment of sweet playfulness because Steve had always been worried. Always thinking of everyone else.

He’s at the meeting table, staring at you though back then you didn’t know what it meant. He’d wanted you, just as much as you’d wanted him. Picturing him pounding into you right up against that exact same spot and now you know he’d been imagining the exact same thing.

This place is full of him and his voice, all those faded memories of yearning and friendship, forever trapped in this space where the Avengers have returned. A haven for them. For you, hell.

You hate being here.

You shift in your seat, staring across the way at Thor who’s dozing with his head thrown back, mouth fallen open. He’s snoring lightly, his tangle of blonde hair less dirty, wavier, and still long. His beard is also left long but he seems to have adopted the braided beard permanently.

He’s still chubby. No…that’s not the word. He’s thicker. His stomach still rounded but a little less than before. He looks tighter. Strong, like a rhino.

He’s been here longer than you have and has changed into a pair of jeans and a plain olive colored t-shirt. It looks old, fits him loose around the neck exposing bronzed peach skin.

You tut, turning to look for Bucky or Sam. What did they want?

Thor snores loudly and sits up, startled.

“One more drink.” He spouts drowsily, before his eyes fall on you.

You watch him with a slightly furrowed brow, arms crossed over your chest as you assess him neither disapproving nor happy to see him. You’re just here.

“Oh, sorry. I guess I dozed off.” Thor sits up straighter, reaching up to rub at his eyes. “Haven’t been getting enough sleep.”

“Out drinking?” You guess.

“No.” Thor smiles, shaking his head, then stops and think. “Well, actually yes. I was fishing for information. There’s a man or…he might not be a man but he’s going from planet to planet selling what he claims are infinity stones. Fakes I think but…”

Your heart beats a little faster, “Better safe than sorry.”

“Yes.” He agrees, then he shifts and smiles at you, warmly. Like he’s happy to see you. “How have you been since…since…that day?”

“Busy.”

“What have you been doing, if you don’t mind my asking?” He probes and then gets up and moves around the coffee table to sit beside you.

You shift in your seat to face him a little better, drawing your leg up—or you begin to before you gasp near silently and lower you leg back down slowly.

“What?” Thor asks, concern immediately etched on his face.

Damn, you thought you’d hidden that reaction well.

“Nothing.”

“Let me see.”

“No, Thor. I’m fine.”

“You are not fine. Let me see it.” He orders, sounding more and more like the God of Thunder that you remember.

“I said I’m fine.” You gripe.

“And I said you’re not. Let me see your damn leg or I’ll go and get Dr. Cho and have her sort you out.” His threat is real, and you can see it in those sparkling eyes, one amber, one stunning blue, that he means it.

You resent him for a moment. You don’t need his help. Or anyone else’s. You don’t need anyone.

Reluctantly you pick up your right leg and turn towards him. You hesitate.

Thor gestures for you to lay it on his lap and with your heart full of trepidation, you do it.

“What did you do to it?” He asks, feeling it through your old and in great need of repair and a wash uniform.

“I hit it.”

He looks at you, eyebrows raised.

“On some goon’s face.” You explain.

You half expect him to fuss but instead, Thor surprises you. He huffs a laugh, the concern on his face still there but there’s also amusement. A sparkling eagerness behind his eyes.

“I hope you hit your leg hard on this goon’s face.” He says, feeling just below your knee.

“I shattered his jaw, so yeah. But he got me with a metal pipe he was holding before I did.” Guess, there’s no reason to hide the truth from Thor. He seems relaxed enough that you don’t feel like you’ll be chastised. You reach down and take hold of his hand. Sliding it up along your knee to mid-thigh. “Not there, here.”

“So, the pipe is what hurt your leg?” Thor realizes, eyes trained on your thigh as he gives it a gentle squeeze.

You gasp, wincing, breath stolen as the pain shoots through you.

“You should not be walking around on it.” He tells you, concerned, not chastising.

“I’m okay.” You assure him.

“Only you know your body’s limits.” He nods, looking back up at you. “But it would be better if you stayed off of it.”

You frown at him, irritated instantly. “And I said, I’m fine.”

“You clearly aren’t.” Thor argues.

Funny thing is though, even though he’s fighting you on this, it doesn’t sound like he’s judging you or…feeling sorry for you. Like Bucky sounds. He’s not getting mad, like Sam does.

You take your leg off his lap and limp around behind the old bar that has since been converted into a small kitchen, to the coffee maker.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” You tell him.

“Yes, I do. I have fought many battles. Injured myself countless times. Trust me.” He says with a smile in his voice. He’s having fun arguing with you.

Jerk.

“I don’t know if that’s something you should really be bragging about, God of Thunder.” You tease, still bitter.

Then you growl.

“What?” He asks with a chuckle, amused at your irritation.

Why does Thor leave his shit laying around?

“Thor…” You sigh, grab the handle, then limp back over towards him. “I’d really appreciate it if you wouldn’t leave your stupid hammer sitting around.”

You hold it out for him, and he stares at the large metal head with slightly disbelieving eyes. He follows the butt of the hammer to the handle then his eyes take in your fingers deftly wrapped around the black leather handle.

As he stares at it, you look at it again too. This hammer…could it be? “Is this the one that St…that he used?”

You faintly remember him carrying it around at the funeral, keeping track of it.

“No.” Thor says dully, still dumbfounded. “This one is new. I-I had it remade.”

He gets to his feet, towering over you as he continues to stare down at the weapon.

You give it a shake. “Oh, good. Take it. I want coffee and it’s in my way.”

“How-?” He asks, stunned but he takes the handle and relieves you of its weight.

You move back into the kitchen—no limp—and set to making yourself a cup of coffee.

“Do you want some?” You ask him and when he doesn’t answer you turn to look at him, and squeak to find him right behind you.

Face to chest. You follow his sturdy build up to his face, and blink. He’s all lit up with excitement. The smell of ozone permeates the room, but it’s sweetened by the smell of a coming storm and that ever floral scent that seems to follow him around.

It smells good. He smells good. And his heat, he’s standing so close, it feels right and like you haven’t been this close to anyone in years. Your mind is assaulted with scandalous images because this also reminds you that you haven’t gotten any in just as much time.

“What?” You ask, startled by him and your own thoughts, the counter digging into your lower back.

“I want to train you.” He states, so excited he’s almost vibrating with it.

“What?” You ask confused, thoroughly distracted from the comfort that his closeness is bringing you. “I don’t need any more training.”

Stupid man.

“Do you not know what you just did?” You shake your head. “You lifted my hammer.”

“Yeah, so?” You wonder, looking down at the hammer still held in his right hand.

“Only the worthy can lift my hammer.”

“Worthy? Worthy of what?” You ask confused.

“I was able to re-enchant the hammer and keep what made the first special and you are worthy, little dove. I cannot believe it, but you are worthy.” He assures you. “I mean, not that you being worthy is anything to be surprised at. You have always been sweet and kind and giving. You’re the only one who still believed me in me when I myself didn’t feel like I was worth-”

His words fade into a deafening hum, meaningless noise as you come apart.

Something about those particular words and the way that he’s gazing down at you and the closeness of his large body combine to fill your chest with an ache that you’ve been desperately trying to run from.

It catches up with you here in the tower where he is everywhere, with Thor pressing down on you, smiling at you like he’d smiled at you at one time. Thor tells you that you’re worthy when everything that happened two years ago tells you that you are evidently unworthy of many things.

His love for one. You hadn’t been worthy of his future and so he’d left you and here’s another man, pretending that you’re worthy because it probably suits the time and he’s lying too because he wants to use you like the other one did. He’ll leave you too and break you more and you can’t handle that again.

He’ll use you until he’s done and then be gone.

Thor’s hand slide down along your right bicep, along your elbow and forearm until his hand is able to grip yours.

The heat of his touch snaps you back from your grief and you rip your hand out of his grip.

“Don’t touch me.” You snap. “Don’t lie to me.”

“What?” Thor’s confused puppy face almost moves you, but you know it isn’t real. Everything he says is just a trick. Another lie. They all lie.

“I’m not worthy.” You spit.

“Little dove…” He begins and makes to grab hold again but you slide out from between him and the counter.

“I have a mission to get to and…just stay away from me, Thor.” You back away, heart absolutely clenching with agony. “Stay away.”

Okay, so you gave in. Mostly because Bucky kept begging you to just do the training.

“Think about it, sugar. It’ll be a whole new weapon for you to use on mission. And isn’t that what matters most?”

He knew what buttons to push to get you to agree. You’d be lying if you said that having Mjolnir 2.0 with you on mission wouldn’t be useful. So, you knocked on Thor’s bedroom door and with a heavy sigh you gave in.

“Fine.” You’d grumbled. “Train me.”

Thor’s smile had been blinding.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Hit me again, little dove. We will not stop until you can channel the lightning at full strength.” He urges you, staring at you from across a grassy field. Small yellow flowers shift in the wind that whips your hair.

“Did I ask to stop?” You retort, hating the way he seems to know you’re a little tired.

Thor’s pulled his hair up into a top knot that makes him look disgustingly delicious and you hate yourself for even thinking it because you shouldn’t, and you’ve worked so hard to make all of this okay. You’ve strived to be good alone.

You are good alone. Focus.

Channeling this energy through your body is exhausting. You’ve been working at it for two weeks and you’re still struggling with the power that courses through it.

Bruce had told you that Steve had been able to do it easily.

He’d lifted the hammer and summoned the lightning and it had all just fallen into place.

For you…why can’t you do it?

Thor chuckles at your squabbling. “Come on, little dove. Once more.”

You growl, mustering up all the strength you can and swing the hammer up into the air. The sky grows dark, waves of black cloud swirl and smoke, thunder rumbles, churning and growing louder before lightning splits the sky and flows down through the hammer into you in a dazzling show of blinding strobe.

It feels warm. Heated electricity that comforts and soothes. It makes you feel good. Like it’s been missing your whole life and now that you have it everything is just as it should be.

You turn to face Thor, bringing the hammer down as you watch him squat in his stance. You turn, swinging Mjolnir towards him and release it. It flies for him, followed by the searing white of your lightning and he’s blown back off his feet. The hammer he catches, but the surge of electricity is able to knock him off balance.

The sky continues to thunder, a previously unknown confidence swaying your hips as you strut towards him and stop only when you’ve reached his feet.

He’s laughing, Mjolnir held against his chest. He’s really laughing. His belly is bouncing with it, his t-shirt dirtied from flying through the dirt and grass, small yellow flowers litter his hair.

“What’s so funny?” You ask, thrown off guard by his easy mood. The sky overhead growling.

“You were born for this, Y/N.” He looks at you and fixes you with a look of such admiration that your heart begins to tremble. It aches but, in a way that you haven’t felt in so long.

You think back to the moments that stand out in your history, the ones where you felt exactly like this. Staring at Steve across from you at the gym. On mission, wishing you could follow him out into the fight. Sitting beside him at the little restaurant he’d sneak you to before you two got together and absolutely itching to reach over and grab his hand. The torture of listening to Nat try and fix him up.

Just like then, you long to reach out. You want to hold your hand out to him, help him to his feet. Kiss him.

Wait…no.

You shake your head, pushing these thoughts down as far as you can…it isn’t far. Your limits of denial are shrinking. Since Thor has come back, your life has begun to change again. Turning into something you’ve been desperate to avoid.

Over the past two weeks, it’s become harder and harder to ignore the way you’re feeling for him. Every moment spent with Thor has been more frightening than the last. Like a nervous cat, you jump and startle when he catches you off guard.

Your mind shoots to your post training ritual, when he takes you down to a small lake nearby. He sits with you and he shares with you the things he’s done. Adventures in space, chasing rumors of the stones if only to double-check. He’s traumatized too, in a very different way.

The broken parts of him come out then, laid out for you to pick and prod at. At first, you’d only sit beside him, relishing in the silence but as you spent more time with him, you wondered about the God sitting beside you. The one who’d been in tatters the last time you’d seen him. He doesn’t deny you the curiosity you feel when you’re truly alone with him. He seems to welcome it.

Despite his openness with you, he never asks you about Steve. And you’re grateful. Everything about Steve and your time with him still stings. It was your life. A whole future you’d wished and hoped for. After years of wanting and loving him, for him to just up and leave? Where do you go from that?

Thor can see you coping, and you can see him noticing. He’s very gentle with you, and very patient. You’re grateful. It only makes your heart waver and you hate him for being so nice. You wish he’d be repugnant and demanding and chastising like Sam. Relentless like Bucky. Pushing and pushing until you want to scream.

But Thor smiles at you when you sit beside him at the lake and he waits. He waits for you to speak. Waits for you to ask. Waits for you to sigh. You have a sneaking suspicion he’s still waiting for you to cry. To unload.

So, when he sits right next to you by the lake being patient and sweet and heartbreakingly open, you’ve begun to lay your head on his shoulder, and he says nothing. He doesn’t draw attention to the gesture. He sometimes leans his head against yours too.

You’re thankful because you’ve missed the comfort of contact.

This is what you’re fighting against. This is what you try not to think about when you’re with him. You push it away and focus on your training.

“When are you going to teach me to take a hit then?” You ask him, determined to ignore the way that he seems to fit right in with the wild grass and swaying golden flowers.

He stares up at you, considering you.

“Right now.” He booms, his hand shooting up into the air and the whistle of Stormbreaker pierces the air.

You reach out and call for Mjolnir off his chest and it comes flying up into your hand, just as Thor’s lightning comes raining down from the sky to singe the grass where you stand with an earthshattering boom as partner.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Are you alright?” He’s asked you like a million times already. Your clothes are fine. Your hair is fine. Your skin is…a little charred, sure, but only lightly dusted in black and only in certain spots.

“Yes.” You grumble, hating the way he fusses. You’re also really regretting asking him to forgo the lake session. You felt too tempted and you’re trying to resist.

He’s in your bedroom, to make sure that you aren’t exhibiting any aftereffects from wielding the hammer. You’re not enhanced like Steve had been. You’re just human. And you’re fairly sure he started out the lake sessions for this exact reason.

You’re made stronger by the hammer but when you aren’t wielding it, you’re just you.

He’s quiet, and you forget that you’re trying to keep your emotions—and to an excruciatingly sharp degree your body too, because, damn it. You want Thor—at bay.

“Hey,” You begin inquisitively, suddenly remember seeing Thor change from his regular clothes to his Asgardian armor in the blast of his lightning when he’d wielded Mjolnir years ago.

“Hm?” Thor asks, plopping down on the end of your bed—Sam forced you to take a room in the tower. A room that Fury had previously prepared for you in case you decided to come back into the fold.

Thick plush baby blue blankets with canary yellow sheets. The room is painted with rich plums and pinks, the ceiling dark espresso oak.

You keep your back to him as you open your drawers and pull out a new t-shirt and some pants to throw on when you get out of the shower.

“If I do that whole clothes changing thing that you do with your lightning,” You begin, pulling your workout thermal up and over your head leaving you in your plain black sports bra. “Will I also get some Asgardian armor? Or is that just a you thing? Because it would be so fucking cool if I could get some Asgardian armor. Ooh, can I pick the col-?”

There’s a sharp hiss behind you and you turn quickly to see what’s happened, your shirt still wrapped around your forearms.

“What?” You ask, startled.

Thor gets up from your bed and moves to you, turning you around forcefully so that he can look at your back.

“Is this why you’re always wearing pants and shirts with sleeves?” He asks.

Fuck. Oh, well. This is your new reality. He was going to see it eventually. Still, your mind is in overdrive, analyzing everything he’s saying because you did the same thing with Steve and you hate yourself for being like this. For hoping when you know you shouldn’t.

For your own sanity, you need to let this go.

“It’s nothing, Thor. They’re old.” You assure him, unashamed. These are your battle scars and they are true to who you have become. If he sticks around long enough, maybe you’ll explain it to him someday?

He takes one heated finger and traces several six-inch-long scars at the center of your back. The puckered skin long since healed. He presses against the tiny ones. The ones where bullets went in. One of his hands wraps around your side and moves up along your ribs feeling for the exit scars. He finds them and presses his palm to the largest while his other hand moves on to trace the largest of your scars. It starts at the center of your back and moves up over your right shoulder, stopping just at your collarbone.

It’s wide and long. This one was the one that almost killed you. And Thor is suddenly holding you. Both arms pulling you back against him.

“These are not nothing.” He grieves.

“You should stop touching me.” You tell him, very aware of the pounding in your chest now.

For a second, his hands lift from your skin, hovering like soft feathers against you, barely touching.

“Why?” He asks defiantly, putting his hands right back where they were. He almost sounds like he could be pouting but you’re too afraid to look.

“Because…” Now you hesitate, knowing that this is a road you shouldn’t travel. This is something that should stay buried. You’ve been great alone until now. And yet, you confess, “It feels good.”

Thor’s hands grow firmer, splayed out along your war-torn skin. Your war, but a war all the same.

“And I shouldn’t. I can’t.” You sigh.

“You should.” He whispers, his lips now hovering over the shell of your ear. Hands tracing your sides. “Let me take this grief from you. Let me show you that it can be good. That things are not lost. Let me comfort you. Let me lo-”

“No.” You almost sob. “Don’t.”

You know what he’ll say, and you don’t want to hear that lie again. Never again.

“Since the moment in the hangar when you saw past the shattered man I’d become and gave me that seedling of hope…I’ve lov-”

“Stop.” You gasp, again refusing to hear that lie. “You don’t even know me.”

“I’ve known you for years, little dove. But you’ve been distracted.” When Thor’s lips find the skin of your neck, you melt back against him.

Your body wants this. It wants his touch. And the fear in your heart is fading fast.

Thor’s hand slides down along your side, lovingly tracing your scars as he goes around to your front and down along your tummy until he finds the waistband of your pants and with his nails softly raking against your skin—it’s so good it makes you shiver—he slides his hand down to cup your mound, his middle finger sliding up and down your suddenly pooling folds.

“You’ve been alone for too long, little dove.” He whispers and he’s right, but you wanted to be alone because this…

“Wait…” You shake your head, snapping out of the lust your body demands. “No. You’ll—”

Thor moves his hand out of your pants and turns you around slowly, hearing your ‘no’. Why does he have to be so good to you?

His long blonde hair is still wrapped up tight on top of his head, his beard tickling the nape of your neck until he’s got you facing him.

“Why must you fight it?” He licks his lips and pulls you closer, his hips now pressed against you.

“You’ll leave.” You tell him, and it’s the fear talking. Fear that like Steve he’ll go, and he very well might.

Thor, more than any of the other Avengers except maybe Carol, has left Earth for years at a time.

“You’re right.” He nods, staring down at the shadows of uncertainty in your eyes. He smooths his thumbs across your cheeks, caressing the sides of your face slowly as your heart falls with his admittance. “I will leave.”

You look down at his chest and shut your eyes, fighting the new wave of sadness that threatens to shift into barbs. Wild and steel made to cut and build that wall back up to make them all keep away.

Why can’t he just drop it? Why is he trying?

He’s like Steve. He doesn’t care. He’ll abandon you.

“And when the time comes for me to return to whatever I might need to do, I will take you with me.” He says, almost amused by the look on your face.

Your eyes shoot open, searching his own for the lie.

“But you-”

“If you would let me speak, then I could tell you that I have wanted to be with you since the moment you kissed my cheek and told me that you would always believe in me.” He sighs, reaching down to wrap his arms around your waist and pull you against his full belly and broad, once again tight chest. “I’m a sucker for a sweet woman who believes in the best of me.”

“I’m not ready for this, Thor.” You sigh, feeling lighter than you have in a long time but worried and sick to your stomach with fear. “I need time.”

“Then time you shall have.” Thor nods. “So long as you know that this is where I stand. Waiting. Impatiently. Can I kiss you now?”

You almost smile because he’s been anything but impatient.

You really want him to do more than kiss you, but you nod. He leans down smiling and eager. You press his beard down against his neck to keep it out of the way as you push yourself onto your toes to meet his softened, pink lips.

He tastes like honey and wine and his kiss is out of this world.

Thor stares at you, eyes wide open as your own stare right back into his. The two of you are laying on his bed and he’s got his hands crossed over his chest while yours are wrapped around your knees, folded up as far as you can get them.

Today is a hard day. It’s been two years exactly since things went wrong.

No. Not Steve.

Yes, that had been life changing and it had destroyed you but that wasn’t when the destruction had truly started…

“What do you remember best about her?” Thor asks, his voice as gentle and warm as he can make it.

You think for a moment, staring at him because if you look away, you might fall to pieces like you did last year.

“Mmmm, I remember the way she saw things.” You smile, a sad, weak little thing that makes Thor smile too.

His is encouraging and it helps give you the strength to finally talk about this after two years of wishing that things had gone differently.

“When I first met her, she asked me why I wasn’t out in the field.”

“Why weren’t you?” Thor asks, curious.

“I wasn’t as well-trained as I am now. Back then I had a tendency to make small mistakes. I learned. I’m better now. Much better. When I told her that, she shook her head and I remember she holstered her gun, looked me right in the eyes and said, ‘We all make mistakes. Just make a few more and eventually you’ll make the right one.’”

Thor smiles a bit wider.

“Did she shrug?” He asks. “I can almost picture her shrugging as she said it.”

“She did.” You nod, smiling more genuinely. “She-”

You hesitate, staring at his inquiring face with a small bit of fear. You haven’t had this conversation yet.

“What is it?” He asks, reaching out to take your hand. “Tell me.”

“Before Steve and I…before he went on the run with her and Sam and Wanda, she knew how I felt about him. She saw right through me. Asked me why I hadn’t told him.” You look down at his chest, avoiding his stare because you don’t know what you have left over for Steve in you.

Apart from the anger, there’s a reason your heart still aches when you think about him.

“Why didn’t you tell him how you felt?” He wonders, no sound of judgement or jealousy in his voice.

“He’d told me once—or rather, he told her that I wasn’t his type. But I was right there, in front of him.” You can feel the weight of his words settle over you again.

You should have known back then. When he’d said that, he’d been telling the truth. You’d been the closest to his type maybe? The second choice. You weren’t Peggy and clearly she was his type. You should have believed him when he said it and saved yourself all this suffering.

“I should have believed him and not kissed him that night.” You lament, turning your gaze back on Thor finally. “I knew better. He’d said it himself that I wasn’t what he wanted but I kissed him anyway and the Snap brought him to me. Out of desperation and because I was all that he could get.”

Thor’s face darkens, eyebrows drawn close, chin flexing as your voice begins to break.

“Of course, he’s going to leave me the first chance he gets.” You sob. “What I don’t understand is why he kept it going for so long.”

You sit up, pulling yourself together as best you can as you push his blanket down a little so that you’re not so covered.

You’re in your sleep shorts, refusing to get out of bed on this second anniversary of Nat’s death. Shorts you wear only when it’s just you and Thor. He doesn’t judge your scars and they’re on every inch of you because you’d been reckless for too long in your battles before the needs of others became more important than burying your sorrow.

And here it comes, pouring out of you now, because you finally have someone that will just let you release it without making you feel bad or weak for it.

“I wish she was here. I miss her. I miss her voice and her counsel.” You explain as Thor sits up slowly to scoot closer, arm resting beside you but not touching you yet. “She knew him best and I wish she could explain it to me so that I can understand because-because…”

You should stop. You shouldn’t tell Thor this.

“What, my dove?” He asks, this time wrapping his arm around your waist as he scoots even closer.

“I-” You feel heavy tears fall onto the blanket, dull thuds against fabric and mattress. “I went back to the apartment last week. Where he and I…I was looking for some of my old clothes. Things to move in here. And I…I…”

You sob hard but keep your voice low, a whisper as you shake your head before you bury your face into your hands, refusing to say it.

Thor reaches up to grip your wrists and pulls your hand away easily, exposing the raw weeping face beneath.

“Tell me.” He coaxes.

“I f-found a r-ring.” You gasp, breathing in then out comes a quiet keening. Only Thor will hear you. “H-Hidden in his sock drawer.”

Had his love for Peggy really been that overwhelming that he’d planned a future with you? Hoped and dreamed like you had that there would be more to this life with you then abandoned it when the opportunity had presented itself?

You meet Thor’s eyes, biting hard on your bottom lip as you choke on your grief. Grief held in. Grief that you’d buried. Grief that you’ve clung to. Time to let it go.

You also don’t want to need Thor. You don’t want to need anyone, but you know that without Thor, you would still be chasing the mission. Chasing the high of a capture. Chasing the violence because the wreck inside you needs an outlet.

You do need Thor. Trying to deny that is not going to change that fact.

“I w-wasn’t enough.” You cry.

Thor shakes his head, reaching to wipe at your tears as he pulls you in to kiss him. Again, and again. Long pecks.

They’re searing, heated kisses made to chase away your sad thoughts and it works.

“You’re enough, little dove. You’re almost too much.” He jokes and you sob and laugh at the same time.

“I wish she was here.” You cry, renewed grief making you cry a little louder. “I miss her so much, Thor.”

“We’ll go see her.” Thor tells you, meaning the gravestone that had been erected for her. Even though her body isn’t there…she’s there. “As soon as you’re willing. We’ll go.”

His consideration only makes you cry harder and he kisses you more. He tries to chase it all away with his lips and at first it doesn’t work like it did moments ago.

Until it does, and your sobbing subsides.

He wraps both arms around you, twisting to lay you down gently against his pillows.

You’re breathless as he pulls back to yank off his shirt, his pot belly taut, smaller than before, but still there. His pecs have hardened, his arms are still massive and bulging. He waits with it off. Waiting for your rejection or acceptance.

“Don’t stop.” You gasp up at him, sitting up to pull your own shirt off then laying back down.

“I won’t.” He promises, excited by the go-ahead, then reaches down beneath you as you arch your back for him to unhook your bra and throw it with the rest of your clothes onto the floor.

It takes him seconds to get you completely naked. He makes a quick pass of his lips across every scar on your body as he slides back and off the bed. He stands to strip away his own pants as he admires your naked form.

Your own eyes roam his new perfection. His cock is huge, peach and swollen, throbbing as he climbs back over you.

He kisses along your ankle, up the inside of your calf, your knee, and thighs. Here he sucks gently, marking your flesh with his love bite before he delves between your folds to taste your soaked cunt.

Too long. You’ve been wanting this for too long. Alone for too long. He was right to tell you that before.

He’s lapping up at your clit, suckling gently on it as his hands slide up along the bottom of your thighs, pushing your bent legs up higher until your hips are almost lifted off the mattress so that he can get a better angle at your entrance.

His tongue dances along the edge, nose nudging your clit before he worms it along inside, tasting you.

You gasp, reaching down to cling to his long blonde hair as it falls around him. He grunts at your tugging but he’s gentle with you, stripping away at your protective layers until your undulating beneath him.

Your grieving sobs have turned into nectarous whimpers and Thor is absolutely frantic on your cunt as he races back up to your clit to lick and bite, coaxing your body into the most powerful orgasm of your life.

You fall to pleasurable pieces there with his head between your legs, your hands locked in his hair, toes curled, body trembling.

He eats you out until you’re overstimulated, twitching, and your moaning has subsided. Then he kisses your stomach, once again pressing his lips to those bullet and knife scars, stopping on the one that had almost killed you at your clavicle, where he licks and leaves another love bite.

“How did you get this one, my dove?” He wonders, your body still recovering.

Breathless you look down at the scar he means as he traces it with his fingers, his chin and beard shining with your arousal. You wipe at his face, embarrassed by how wet you got…but it had been a while!

“I um…I was in Japan. A village called Kiso. I didn’t realize I was walking into a trap. T-two guys had really, really long blades. They got me from both sides. One from the back—that one I couldn’t stop. One from the front which I blocked after he cut me a bit. I killed them and I almost bled out, but some villagers found me and got me to a hospital.” You run your hand along the back of his head as he rests it on your left breast, tracing the scar with his finger still.

“I should have come back sooner.” He laments, looking up at your face.

“I wasn’t ready for you then.” You tell him. “I’m not sure if I’m ready for you even now.”

Thor pushes himself up, staring at your face for a moment before he looks down at your breast and while he turns his eyes back on you, he opens his mouth to take in your perked nipple.

He sucks on it softly, tongue lapping around it in circles.

You gasp, overcome by desire again. You fist the hair on the back of his head then pull him up to kiss you.

Tasting yourself on him is intoxicating and empowering. Here he is, marked as yours.

You push against his shoulder and he rolls over until he’s on his back and you’re settled on top of him. Rocking your hips back until his cock pokes against your cheeks.

“You’re ready for me now, aren’t you, little dove?” He asks, slowly rubbing his hands along the tops of your thighs.

You reach down between your bodies, line him up, and slowly sink down on him until you’re absolutely full.

Thor’s hands are vices on the tops of your thighs, and he groans as you take him in his entirety.

You cry out, your walls stretched and out of practice. You can feel him throbbing within you and your walls are velvet waves against him.

“You’re so perfect, my dove.” Thor says, almost in shock, throwing his head back against his pillows as you’re wrapped around him. “So perfect.”

Slowly you begin to rock your hips, feeling the splendor of his massive cock slide in and out over and over while his hands explore the curves of your body, one hand squeezing your breasts while the other thumbs your clit.

“Thor…” You whimper, trying to move faster but already your legs are numb. Still recovering from your first orgasm.

He suddenly sits up and places his hands on the curve of your ass and helps to pull you back and forth faster. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and kiss him hungrily, moaning into his mouth as he leads you to fuck him.

You come hard and fast, breaking the kiss to bite into his shoulder as your body goes rigid and then continues to tremble as he keeps going.

“That’s it, little dove. Let me make it better.” He says happily, then turns you over to lay you down on your back once more.

He settles over you, pelvis to pelvis, his mouth open against yours as you gasp and moan into him while he pumps himself in and out in long smooth waving thrusts.

“Doesn’t that feel good, my dove?” He asks, and you nod, still riding your high.

“Yes.” You whimper, tracing the shape of his shoulders as he dips his tongue into your mouth.

He licks and kisses along your chin, down your neck as he moves faster, thrusting hard. He pounds against your nub, that band in your pelvis tightening and moments away from snapping again.

Thor’s movements become more frantic as he chases his own climax. His hands grasp your shoulders, holding your body flush against his own as his lips find their way back to yours.

He pulls back, staring into your eyes for two long seconds as your body tightens once more.

“I love you.” He whispers, and your heart sears painfully in your chest.

Your stomach is in flutters, nervous, excited, terrified, as his words register. Your lips open to respond. To return his feelings. To tell him that you feel the same. You love him too. Yes.

You do. You see that.

But you can’t say it.

The band in your pelvis snaps and your body is yanked into euphoric pleasure once again as Thor’s last thrust explodes within you.

He groans, mashing his lips to yours and you kiss him back eagerly, returning his love in the kiss because you can’t say it…you can’t tell him.  You love him. But this is all you can give him. For now? Forever?

What if he leaves you?

He breaks your kiss, his lips gliding down along your cheek to your ear as both your bodies tremble together.

“I love you.” He whispers again. “Always.”

In the aftermath of your first night with Thor, he becomes less platonic with you in front of the others.

He doesn’t outright kiss you or hold your hand when they’re around, but he shows it in some subtle and not so subtle ways.

His more subtle ways include him serving your food first or giving you first choice of drink. He makes sure that you have a blanket when you state that you’re cold. And he brags to Stephen and Wanda about your skills with Mjolnir. For those really watching, it’s hard to miss. But everyone is living their own lives and they don’t have time for your drama.

The day that everyone actually finds out, you get up from bed and pull on a plain gray tank top—you’ve been less careful of your scars since that night with Thor—that you tuck into a pair of loose pink and white striped pants. They’re tied up with a matching sash, casual and easy for a lazy day in the tower.

“Where are you going?” Thor asks, rousing from his slumber, rubbing at his eye with his large fist. His hair is a mess, a nest of golden hair that needs brushing. His beard is already braided neatly, fastened with a thin, tiny black band.

His large shirtless body is scrumptious in the late morning and you move to the bed to crawl over him and kiss his lips, smoothing the worst of his bedhead.

Here in the safety of your room, and occasionally his, you can be open with your affections. You don’t worry about the stares that the team might give you or the questions that might follow.

You don’t want an audience to this if Thor is going to leave you in the end. For now, you’ll enjoy this for what it is. You’ll keep it quiet. Thor doesn’t seem too worried about letting them know either so…you’ll keep it to yourselves.

“I’m hungry.” You tell him.

“Stay here, I’ll go get you something.” He springs out from under you, shifting to the edge of the bed to pull on his pants, t-shirt quickly pulled on too.

“I wanna go.” You counter, and because it’s what you want, Thor doesn’t protest.

“I’ll come with you.” He says, getting to his feet, yawning.

“You’re still sleepy.” You point out and he moves around towards you, pulling you in for a long-held hug. Last night’s debrief had been a long one. New bads making a name for themselves up north and it’s starting to look as if the entire team will be needed.

“I am.” He agrees. “But I’m hungry too.”

You’re about to protest but if he’s hungry too…You head out, pulling out of his arms but when you turn, he reaches down to grab hold of your sash.

Like a puppy on a lead, he follows you through the hallway, into the elevator, down the steps of the upper deck, and down to the lower common room holding onto your sash.

This gesture draws Bucky and Sam’s gazes, their breakfasts abandoned. They stare, slightly openmouthed, while Rhodey sits back in his chair, observing curiously as he sips his coffee. Wanda covers her mouth, smiling underneath while Peter beside her drops his bottle of water on the glass table loudly where it splashes and makes a mess.

Stephen, already standing at the kitchen counter, looks from your easy expression to Thor’s hand as he clings to your pants and follows you behind the counter. He says nothing however, just watches.

“Are there any pop tarts?” Thor wonders, just to you, but everyone can hear him.

You push yourself up onto your toes and pull open a cabinet to look inside. An unopened box of unfrosted strawberry pop tarts sits waiting for consumption.

“Yep.” You grab it and hold it over your shoulder for him while you reach in with your other hand a little deeper in search of the box of breakfast bars you’d bought last week.

Thor releases your sash and wraps that arm around your waist as he leans down to kiss your neck, taking the box of pop tarts from you.

“Thank you.” He says so that only you can hear, and your nervous heart flutters.

He’s kissing you, holding you, in front of everyone. You’re terrified of it but also ecstatic because it means this is real…but how real? Will he leave you? Will he break you?

You turn back to look up at him, searching his soft smile for a sign that he’ll change his mind. That he’ll rip this away from you and leave you, just like-

“Steve?” Wanda asks, her voice speaking your mind.

You turn away from Thor, twisting in his hold to look at Wanda in confusion. Can she read minds now?

But her eyes are trained on the upper floor, at the top of the stairs.

Everyone is already looking up, Bucky is on his feet, hands clenched into fists. He looks angry.

You follow their gaze and you very nearly faint at the sight of Steve in a pair of dark brown high-waisted pants, and a light blue button up, staring down at you with glistening blue eyes. A million questions for you because you’re still in Thor’s arms.

“I’m back.” He tells you—because he’s only looking at you—and he waits, while the shock wears off in you and something else takes its place.

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[thymo-leonta]

it’s no big surprise you turned out this way

read on ao3: [ x ]

summary: Hux and Kylo were so close so many times but they never quite reach each other. Until they do.

He never pays attention to the audience while he performs. It always makes him nervous and distracted, his eyes scanning and scanning the crowd. It didn't used to bother him but now he has to totally block out the room in order to perform.

After he's done it's a whole different story. When the final song ends Kylo lingers on stage, the best vantage point fore searching the crowd. He's distracted while he packs up the equipment with Phasma, glancing over his shoulder constantly, but she's used to picking up his slack. He does this every time but like always, he can't find that familiar face.

He's past the point of being disappointed, but it still hurts. Less like a punch in the guts these days and more like an ache in the his chest. Phasma thinks he's being ridiculous, and he is, but he doesn't care.

When everything is put away he shoves his way through the crowd, ignoring the strangers trying to chat him up just because he was on stage.

...

The knock on his window startles him in his half-asleep state. There's a pale blurry figure standing outside, and Ben is pretty sure that if he opens the window he's going to die, but he's alway been reckless so he does it anyways. Instead of death he gets a face he never thought he'd see again.

Hux has always been pale but now he looks ashen, and there are deep purple bags under his eyes. His red hair is cropped close to his head. His posture is straighter than Ben remembers, even with the tired way his shoulders seem to droop. Hux raises an eyebrow, silently asking to be let it and Ben doesn't hesitate to step back so he can enter.

Neither of them say anything as Hux shimmies his way through the open window. Ben's pretty sure he's in shock and is half-convinced he's dreaming. When he's fully in the room Hux makes a bee line to Ben's bed and drops onto it face first while Ben stands awkwardly at his window, watching.

Eventually Ben crosses his room in a couple of awkward steps and perches on the edge of his bed. Only half of Hux's body made it to the bed, the rest of it hanging awkwardly off the edge and trailing on the floor. They stay like that for awhile, Ben too scared to break the silence as if Hux will disappear at the slightest noise.

Finally, Ben summons up the courage to speak.  "Don't you still have a another year left? When I looked it up the site said that there was an extra year so that-" but he cuts off when Hux pushes himself up abruptly.

"I escaped," Hux says crisply, and Ben almost cries at the sound of his voice. It's been years since he last saw him but he still sounds the same, more mature but still undeniably Hux. He's sitting up now and there's space between them that Ben desperately want to close but he remains rooted in his spot. "I plan to be very far away before my father finds out."

Ben feels very, very fragile. He shuffles closer now, closer enough so their shoulders touch. Hux isn't looking at him, instead staring straight ahead and Ben doesn't think they've made eye-contact since he got here. He reaches out a hand timidly, placing it on Hux's cheek and gently pulling him to face him. Hux keeps is eyes averted, his eyes cast downward as Ben brushes his thumb across his cheek.

"You could stay here you know," Ben says, eyes wet with unshed tears. Hux laughs gently and shakes his head a little.

"Ben. I love you-" his voice cracks "-but no fucking way."

Now Ben's really crying, because it's a confession and a rejection in one, and it's everything he's wanted but it's being ripped aways before it could even start (again). All he can manage is a quiet, broken, "please" but he knows it's useless because he understands. It's too close to everything. To close to his father, his childhood, his school and he understands but it still hurts like hell.

Hux wraps his arms around him and pulls him to lay down. Ben's chest is tight with grief but Hux lets him make a mess of his shirt with tears and snot as he cries. He falls asleep after he's cried himself to exhaustion. Hux holds him the whole time and Ben clutches back desperately. He thinks he might have stayed the night.      

When Ben wakes up his bed is empty (and he feels a little empty too).

...

The lake is cool where he treads water, and it feels good against his flushed skin. He's a little tipsy but he hasn't drank nearly as mush as Phas and Armie have.

Phas has canon-balled into the lake no less than three times, no shame in her nudity. Ben is more self conscious, not having left the dark water since he got in and never going where the water is below his chest. Armie has been floating on his back quietly, giving Ben a few glances but he can't make himself meet his eyes.

He's been buzzing with anxiety all night, since Armie told them his dad's sending him to military school. They had been sprawled in Phasma's room, playing a stupid video game and laughing when Armie dropped the bomb on them. Phasma and Ben had gone quiet, before Phasma pulled out some alcohol from under her bed and said they were going to get throughly trashed. Somewhere along the way she had decided it would be a good idea to skinny dipping at the nearby lake.

He's brought out of his wallowing by someone crashing into his back, dragging him underwater. His first guess is Phasma, who's been having a great time jumping and splashing around. When he resurfaces and gets his bearings there's a smooth chest against his back and he realizes it's Armie. His arms are still locked around him and he can feel Armie pushing his face into his neck. Ben wants to turn around and hold him in his arms.

"Don't make it gay, guys," Phasma jokes, breaking the moment. Ben pulls away, giving an awkward, cracking laugh. Hux just stares at him sadly and Ben feels like he's going to cry. Phasma gives them a weird look before splashing both of them.

At sunrise they're all sitting on the shore in their underwear. Phasma had grumbled about being made to put clothes back on but the fact that Ben couldn't even look at her made her eventually relent. They're all sober now, crowded together on a patch of grass.

Armie is next to Ben, his head resting on his shoulder while Phas is sprawled on top of both of them, he head in Armie's lap. They talk in hushes tones about nothing for a while before Phas asks, "Why?" Ben holds his breath, the question that's been weighing him down all night finally voiced.

There's a moment of silence before Armie responds. "I guess he was sick of waiting for me to change." He lifts his head up and turns it, and Ben turns as well to look him in the eye. "I was never what he wanted me to be," Armie says quietly. Ben feels like there's something stuck in his throat.

Armie presses his forehead to Ben's and closes his eyes. Ben doesn't have the courage to close the gap, so they sit like that in silence. Phasma doesn't interrupt them this time.

...

The door on top of the stairs creaks as it's opened, and Phasma calls down the stairs, "Hey ass-wipe, there's someone here to see you."

He turns his face from where it's pressed into his pillow to snort. "Bullshit," he shouts back, "You know as well as I do that I have no friends."

Phasma give a long suffering sigh, and he can picture her leaning against the door frame, crossing her arms and giving him the most disappointed stare. She's mastered it by now, knowing just how to make him feel like a pathetic fuck with a single look (but it's not hard, he always feels kind of pathetic).

"Maybe that would be different if you left my basement once and a while, instead of spending your days inside like a fucking vampire."

"But Phas," he whines obnoxiously, "That would ruin my pale emo reputation."

She doesn't dignify that with a response, but he hears her coming downstairs to, presumably, kick his ass.When he rolls over, instead of tall and blond he gets tall and red. He barely contains his surprise at the disappointed face looming above his bed. After a moment he gives Hux a slow smile, sitting up and acting like it hasn't been nine fucking years since he's seen him.

"Darling, we have to stop meeting like this. What would your parent say?" He hardly can process the rage on Hux's face before his head snaps sideways and his vision goes white for a moment. He realizes Hux punched him when he feels blood trickle down from his nose.

Kylo cups his nose, turning to look at Hux's enraged face and wishes that for once he knew when to shut his damn mouth. Hux can probably see the shock in his eyes and seems to cool down a little. His relationship with his father has always been bad but Kylo had no idea it was that bad. From the looks of it, probably worse than Kylo's own relationship with his father.

They stare at each other in silence, and Kylo gets a good look at how Hux has changed. He looks healthier, more put together. He's still pale but he doesn't look like he went three days without sleep. He's wearing a button up shirt and slacks, and his hair is combed neatly. Kylo thinks of himself in comparison, shirtless, ripped jeans, messy hair and blood on his face.

Hux breaks eye contact first, glancing around the room before scooping up a discarded shirt from the floor. He crouches in front of Kylo without a word, bringing the shirt up and wiping under his nose. Kylo winces back but otherwise stays still as Hux scrubs his face. It's already stopped bleeding so when he's done Hux just drops the shirt to the floor.

"I'm sorry." Kylo says. Hux sighs and sits down next to him on the mattress. They're close enough that Kylo can feel Hux's body heat on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry as well. That was unnecessary."

Kylo doesn't ask about what Hux has been doing, instead he rambles on and on about his band and his numerous part-time jobs. When it's late he offers to let him stay the night. Hux eye's the twin-sized mattress with disdain, it's barely big enough to fit Kylo's huge frame and Hux is just as tall, though skinnier. He does stay though, and they somehow manage to fit together on it.

When Kylo wakes up the next morning Hux is still there.

...

Kylo bursts outside, taking a deep breath. He's pleasantly surprised to find Hux perched on the curb, cigarette in hand. He always declines going to shows, preferring to stay home. It takes three strides for Kylo to reach him and sit on the curb next to him, legs spread out in front of him.

"Did you watch the show?" he asks, trying (and failing) to not sound eager.

"I figured I'd give it a shot. Got a bit too loud in there halfway through and had to leave." Hux looks at him with a small grin, slightly apologetic but Kylo doesn't care because he came. "It didn't sound too bad."

Kylo feels a little breathless, a huge grin splitting his face. "Maybe you should join then. I'm sure there's something for you to do in the band. You could play the tambourine," he says, "Or one of those little eggs with the beads in them." Hux looks at him like he's an idiot (he is) but e keeps going, "Maybe you could be a back up singer. Do the harmonies for me." At this Hux outright laughs.

"I'm sure the audience would love that," he says sarcastically.

"You've got a nice voice" Kylo says quietly, bumping their shoulders together. Hux just snorts, shoving back against him, nearly pushing Kylo off the curb. He continues smoking, shaking his head slightly while Kylo just stares.

Hux glances over mid-drag and raises a single eyebrow. If he had been younger Kylo might have looked away, blushing, but instead he just stares steadily, chin resting on his hand. Hux stares back for a long while before leaning forward, gently taking Kylo's chin and tilting his head before pressing their mouths together.

Kylo opens his mouth and inhales and a stream of smoke enters his mouth, and Hux pulls back. Kylo exhales slowly, maintaining eye-contact.

"You know I hate smoking." Kylo says after he's done, and Hux chuckles.

"Yeah, I do." He finishes his cigarette. "You ready to head home?"

[oumakokichi]

Hello! I want to tell you that I absolutely love your metas and I want to thank you for writing them. Ouma is my favorite character and it really hurts to go through his tag and see people hating on him without any solid reason. I loved your Amami/Ouma meta (I ship Oumami and now even more thanks to your meta), tumblr user komaedamnit wrote a similar one and it's wonderful how many parallels exist between them. What do you think their interactions would've been like if Amami hadn't died first?

Thank you, anon! I really understand the feeling. One of thereasons I wanted to start this blog was because I saw so many people coming toconclusions or making assumptions based only on incorrect information,sometimes without even having played the game yet. And I thought maybe if Icould clear some of those misconceptions up, people might be able to come totheir own conclusions with more of the facts in mind!

I’m glad if you enjoyed my meta on Ouma and Amami! Oumami isa really, really good ship—I’ve found myself growing pretty fond of quite a fewships involving many of the ndrv3 guys in particular, and I feel like given themany similarities and parallels that exist between them, there’s reallyexcellent room for theorizing as to how they might’ve interacted if Amami hadn’tdied so early on. I definitely have a few guesses as to how it might’ve gone—granted,these should probably be taken with a grain of salt since sadly there’s stillnot much canon information on how the two of them would actually interact.

Still, I can definitely see at least a partial-alliancehaving been struck up between them, had Amami survived Chapter 1. Assumingthere had been some twist in which maybe Kaede or Saihara, or both were stillinvolved and framed but Amami had lived, I wouldn’t even be surprised if Amamihad been the one Ouma fixated most of his attention on after the first trial.After all, Ouma is drawn to people who he can’t quite figure out, and there’s alot to do with mystery and intrigue regarding Amami, with everything from histalent to his backstory to his memories.

It’d be particularly interesting if Amami still intended toexpose the ringleader at some point in this scenario, too. His desire to endthe killing game once and for all, and without relying on an actual trap orattempted murder, is one of the most interesting and admirable things about himin my opinion, and it’d be fascinating to see some kind of scenario in whichthe 2-day time limit is offset by someone else dying (therefore postponing his attemptto expose the ringleader the first time around) and he keeps the whole planclose to the chest while trying to figure out the most opportune time to put itin action later.

Were he to give anything away in the Chapter 1 trial abouthow he’d planned to go to the library, or if he dropped any lines at all aboutperhaps having more information on the ringleader than the rest of them, Ithink Ouma would zoom in on that particular bit of information and decide thatAmami was absolutely essential to his plans to try and end the killing gamehimself.

Ouma’s not beyond putting aside his doubt and skepticism atleast partially if the other person he’s teaming up with is clearly an asset.He absolutely hated Miu’spersonality, for instance, and still could recognize that her talent was usefulenough that it would be stupid of him not to at least attempt working togetherwith her, and their partial alliance lasted presumably all the way fromprobably the beginning of Chapter 2 to midway through Chapter 4. If it camedown to teaming up with Amami, whose personality never posed any issues ofcompatibility unlike Miu’s, I think he’d recognize that it was a good decision.

The two of them would have made for quite an interestingpower dynamic starting around perhaps even as early as Chapter 2. Amami hasmore reliable information on the ringleader, and his research lab with thevideo message he left for himself provide the best possible clues as to whatthe other killing game shows were like. Ouma is an incredible strategist, andif he were still drafting diagrams of inventions for Miu to build, he’d haveaccess to and be able to share all of that super useful technology with Amami,meaning they both might have been able to piece quite a few clues together.

The other interesting part, and also the sad part, is this:both of them are ultimately not very good at trusting other people. Ouma is, ofcourse, a skeptic through and through, but even Amami was unable to trust inothers when it came to asking for help with his plan to expose the ringleader. Bothof them are constantly trying to shoulder the entire burden and huge secretsand plans on their own shoulders—in Amami’s case especially since he’s such abig brotherly figure, he does this out of undeniable protective urges.

It was especially painful for Amami in Chapter 1 because notonly did he not know the rest of the group well enough to trust them or ask forhelp, but he didn’t even know himself well enough. The memo he left for himselfon his extra Monopad told him vital clues and things he needed to know, butbecause he couldn’t even remember writing it, and because he didn’t know hisown talent, he was incapable of really, fully trusting his own advice. Hecouldn’t make full use of the things he knew, because he didn’t understand howhe knew them, and because while he would have liked to open up to people andperhaps rely on them a bit more, he’s very much the type of character who willconsistently try and shoulder things on his own if it means minimizing damageand keeping the others safe.

Similarly, Ouma also lacked an ability to fully trusthimself. While he could count himself as the only person he knew for a fact wasnot the ringleader, it clearly became progressively harder and harder for himto rely on his own plans and trust that he was doing the right thing as thegame became more and more brutal. By the time he had to sacrifice Miu and Gonta’slives in order to keep going against the ringleader, he felt that he hadcompromised one of the only moral codes he has left to him that were inherently“part of himself,” and it clearly took a toll on him. By violating his and DICE’smost important “don’t kill people” motto, even if he didn’t directly killanyone with his own two hands, he became so disgusted with himself that heembraced his villain role more thoroughly than ever, because he honestly felthe was no better than the ringleader by that point.

While I don’t doubt Ouma and Amami both would’ve been ableto form a spectacular alliance that would’ve shed light much, much earlier onmany things about the killing game and the ringleader, I feel like their inabilityto fully trust would’ve been a major obstacle to this alliance actuallyfunctioning to its fullest capacity. It’s doubtful Amami would ever have brokencompletely and decided to try to kill to get out the way that Miu did, butthere might well have come a point in which they decided to call it off,especially if the game was progressing far too long for comfort and neither ofthem was completely sure whether they could actually trust or rely on the otherone.

There’s also the added downside that Tsumugi woulddefinitely have tried targeting them if she’d realized what they were doing.While Ouma put on a super good act of not going against the ringleader andmanaged to successfully pretend he was enjoying the killing game for fiveentire chapters, Amami doesn’t really strike me as the kind of person capableof feigning that enjoyment. And he’s not the most subtle with his plans. Hisattempt to expose the ringleader was so transparent that that’s exactly whyTsumugi took him down early on, for sniffing around so close to her lair. Andif it seemed like Amami’s adventurous, almost heroic attitude was going to makethings worse, Ouma would likely cut ties with him.

It’d be far too easy for Tsumugi to try and frame either oneof them as a suspicious figure too, or make them into a potential ringleadersuspect for her game once she started breaking out the remember lights. Oumawould still be a prime candidate for her to pin the whole “Junko 2.0” ploy onto,and Amami’s inability to remember anything about himself would only workagainst him—moreso since he clearly remembered things that the others didn’teven early on, like the SHSL Hunt. If she’d realized that either or both ofthem were trying to work against her, she’d have struck back hard, just thesame way she did against Ouma in Chapter 5.

Still, I think there’s very fascinating potential hereprecisely because of all these obstacles and problems that would arise. If Oumaand Amami could work past those things (which I would say is not impossible,given that Amami clearly wants to trust people deep down), they would perhapshave actually been able to end the game with considerably fewer deaths. And itwould have been very satisfying to see them reach an ending in which they bothwere actively working against the killing game as a concept the entire time.

That point in common is exactly what I think would interestthem about each other the most, because the killing game itself is really thebiggest, worst obstacle of all, and the root of the problem. Individual people’sactions, both the good and the bad, pale in comparison to the system itself inndrv3. Ouma and Amami are both people who recognize that the system is exactlywhat needs to be targeted the most, rather than individual culprits or cases,and I think they’d have really found their stride in working together for thatkind of purpose the whole way through.

Finally, and on a much lighter note, I feel like a lot ofthe interactions between them whenever they were simply interacting with thegroup at large would’ve been incredibly fun. Amami clearly was fairly laid-backin terms of his personality and likely to go along with silly antics orshenanigans (probably as the result of having so many little siblings). AndOuma’s pranks and desire for attention meant Amami probably would’ve playedalong with that kind of thing. The two of them would’ve probably just enabledthe other’s silliness all the more, and it would’ve fallen to someone likeMomota or Maki to play tsukkomi probably.

Anyway, this was a lot of fun to write about, and I hope Iexpressed my thoughts well. I really enjoy getting to write about Ouma andAmami both, because they’re both super interesting as characters, and I’d bevery interested to see people’s fanfictions when it comes to these AU ideas!