#context he got blasted a little by the explosion

[eggsistential-breakdown]

Curly should've killed J*mmy this, Swansea should have killed J*mmy that,

Anya should have gotten to Brokenstar his ass

Bonuses:

Jackshit mouthwashing first human in the dark forest (warrior cat hell)

Edit: part 2 jotulism gets mauled by wcwiwc (warrior cat women in war crimes) in warrior cat hell

[silcobrainrot]

Blink Once For Yes, Twice For No - Chapter One

Words: 5,027

Summary: In the year following the cannery explosion, Jinx struggles with her nightmares making her relive the trauma over and over. Silco should feel triumphant after killing his worst enemy and taking control of the underground, but his dreams are no kinder to him than hers. And then an old affliction he thought he outgrew long ago resurfaces to make sleeping a living hell.

AKA Silco learns how to be a parent to a troubled child while dealing with (denying) his own problems AKA subjecting Silco to the horrors of sleep paralysis.

Thank you so much @avicides and @aulwil for betaing this for me. I couldnt have gotten it where it is without you 💜💜

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/63015346/

He anticipated Vander’s adopted strays coming to his rescue. He prepared for them to get Vander out of his restraints, maybe even find a way out of that room. He wanted them to show up. His plans depended on the destruction of Vander’s reputation as a brave and heroic figure. Murdered by a rival makes Vander a martyr. Fleeing the Underground to protect his precious children at the first threat of violence from Piltover, however, makes Vander a coward, and not a worthy leader.

He never thought himself capable of killing children for the cause. It still sounds antithetical to the entire mission. But the stagnation these specific children cost Zaun, how they liquified Vander’s spine and made him betray their movement—their entire city—something had to give. They would secure Vander’s martyrdom, so they had to die with him.

He didn’t quite anticipate the strength of the pink-haired one. So much of the Vander he used to know alive in her furious eyes, armed with Vander’s old gloves to drive the point home. The sight brought bile to his throat, rage and malice seething in his gut. Both at her loyalty to Vander, and at her squandered potential under Vander’s traitorous pacifism.

And he definitely did not anticipate them showing up with bombs.

One of Deckard’s group mentioned the smallest one threw a dud grenade at him, so perhaps he should have prepared for something, but a flash-bang or a nail bomb didn't obliterate his entire factory. That explosion was energy on a scale he’d never seen before. He watched Sevika’s arm vaporize, a fate meant for him had she not pushed him out of the blast. At the time, he thought the little brats blew the place up on purpose, some sort of last resort plan for their rescue mission that backfired on them.

Vander didn’t escape, at least. Years of envisioning his revenge, the context always different, but the actions always the same: killing his former brother with the knife that saved him from a watery grave. He plunged the blade clean through a kidney and the bastard still managed to wrap a fist around his throat. Again. Then a shot to the gut, aiming for the same spot he stabbed to escape the river. Vander’s immense grip around his throat weakening, his body slumping and strength failing as he bled out, until someone as feeble as Silco could push him off a ledge.

The factory exploded several times over—Silco’s entire Shimmer supply along with it—and it seemed the only victory he managed in this entire operation still pulled one last stunt by consuming a vial of Shimmer and saving the damn kid. The last one standing. Well, second to last.

Silco walked the perimeter of what remained of the cannery to see how far Vander got, his victory soured and mood ruined. He found some satisfaction in the fact that consuming Shimmer didn’t heal Vander’s wounds. He knew its healing properties firsthand, but it can’t cure a mortal wound. He aimed well with the knife and vanquished his enemy.

He expected the pink-haired child to stay with him, mourn over the dead body with that sentimentality Vander always peddled, even at his best. There was a child with the body when he found it, but not the one that laid waste to most of his crew. The youngest. The final loose end. Crumpled over on the ground and sobbing with her entire body, backlit by fire in the freezing rain.

All four of the strays needed to die for him to destroy Vander’s reputation, but as his hand clenched the blade in preparation to take another life, an instinct he knew better than to ignore implored him to stay his hand. Hide the knife. Find the sister, first, the greater threat. This scrawny little thing has nowhere to go and no fight in her at all, so should stay put long enough for him to kill her sister and come back.

How wrong of him to assume something so frail and broken had no fight in her. The frenzy in the gray eyes that looked up at him, tears and snot indistinguishable from the rain running down her face. Chest heaving, teeth bared in feral desperation, she tackled him with every ounce of strength in her. Knocking him—him—on his ass in the wet and mud, the knife clattering out of his hand somewhere behind them.

The move stunned him still and speechless, his breath coming hard and heavy as they skidded to a stop. He expected her to reach for the weapon after disarming him—she attacked him, after all. Or to try biting him, at least. His mind raced with the possibilities and how best to defend himself against an opponent with nothing to lose but her life. He, of all people, should know how fierce the fire burns in the weakest and most burdened of Zaun’s children.

Lanky arms wrapped around his torso and squeezed him tight, her head pressed into him like she wanted to bury it inside his ribs. She didn’t bite, she didn’t attack, she didn’t reach for the knife. She settled herself between his legs, against his chest, around his back, and lamented the loss of a sister. A sacred bond forsaken with such malice over a single accident.

He looked at the corpse of the man he once called his brother. Then at the child who, in that moment, was as lost and afraid as him the day that brother tried to kill him. His body survived, but it took him months… years, really… to recover, and he had to do it alone. He felt no remorse for killing her caretaker, but the pain of abandonment by the only family you had in the world…

Well. He of all people should know.

He gathered the blubbering mess of limbs into his arms, rested his head against hers, and spoke the words he’d spent so many nights yearning for someone, anyone, to tell him all those years ago. A promise he would come to uphold every day for the girl he’d someday call his baby blue.

“It’s okay.”

When he brought her home, she slept like the dead for two consecutive days. He checked on her several times out of concern she’d succumbed to the grief. Not dead, but exhausted from bearing the weight of it all.

He later learned her birth parents died during the Day of Ash, and that she and her sister witnessed the carnage by sneaking out. Vander, as the only survivor on Zaun’s side, took them in and abandoned all his ideals to shelter them. Made a feeble “deal” with Piltover’s sheriff for “peace” in the Underground, the control of which belonged to the Enforcers, not to Vander. Peace built on a temporary agreement to keep each to their own, which Vander has no way of holding them accountable for breaking. He calls it peace, but handing your oppressors the leash to your collar accomplishes nothing. Security theater, nothing more. The peace treaty will end when Vander dies, and when the curtain rises, nothing will have changed, and might have even gotten worse.

For his part, Silco expected some annoying dreams. Unpleasant, even. Stories born of stress and fatigue that laugh in the face of attempts at “sleeping it off.” His dream life seldom provides a reprieve from the harrows of his waking life, but they’re not nightmares. Stress dreams, sometimes stressful memories, nothing more. Not nightmares.

The night following the cannery incident, he dreamed of the day Vander tried drowning him in the Pilt. Of Vander’s towering shadow above him, flickering from Silco thrashing for his life. Of the only breaths he managed through the fists clamped around his throat filling his lungs more and more with toxic water. Of the agonizing, indescribable pain of chemicals burning and disintegrating live flesh, open nerves, the delicate membranes of his eye.

The phantom pain of his eye stripping apart layer by layer woke him. His emotional mind told him to run to the bathroom and inspect it, find his syringe to inject more Shimmer to stop the inflammation, but he resisted such folly. A dream, nothing more. His mind processing everything that happened: his revenge, and vanquishing the largest obstacle in the way of Zaun’s independence in one fell swoop. Closure has funny ways of settling in.

About a month after the incident, he dreamed of the events leading up to the explosion. When the bomb went off, Sevika didn’t reach him in time, and it vaporized him instead of her arm. He jolted awake out of that one and pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation. Only a stress dream, no need for such drama. He fell back to sleep without a problem, but the flashes of blue and white on the backs of his eyelid tried keeping him awake.

His dreams left him alone after that. Mild stories or nights with no dreams at all. Closure procured, or so he thought.

The first time Jinx had a nightmare in his care, barely two months after taking her in, she screamed loud enough to wake him. A blood-curdling, adrenaline-spiking scream, the kind no one can fake. A sound impossible to make outside of true mortal peril. He leaped out of his bed, armed with the dagger he keeps under his pillow to burst through her bedroom door.

No intruders. Only a bawling Jinx, curled up with her legs underneath her and covering her head. The door opening didn’t make her look up. She may not have even heard it over the power of her sobbing.

“Jinx,” Silco called, “what is it? What happened?”

She didn’t look up. He heard her trying to regain control over her frantic breathing, but the shakes wouldn’t yield. All of this was still so new. He was still learning her. Unsure what he could do, he sat on her bed, setting the knife on her nightstand. She likes physical touch; would she want that right now? Should he touch her or wait for her to ask? What if she panicked? He didn’t want to cause her any more distress.

While his hand wavered, Jinx’s eye poked out from under her face, still buried in her blankets. She crawled into his lap, stuck her face in the dip between his thighs, crossed her arms over her head on his leg, and continued crying. For several minutes, he rested his hand on her back, rubbing it sometimes, but not wanting to do too much. In time, her sobs lost their intensity, her small body stopped shaking, and she could pick up her head. Her first words to him hurt.

“I’m sorry,” she said through another heave of her chest. She turned her head up to look at him. “I-I’m s-sorry I woke you. I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologize for,” he said. “I was only worried something happened. Are you alright?”

“I-I-I—” more involuntary snaps of her diaphragm before she could explain, “it was a bad dream. Just a stupid dream. I’m fine. I’m sorry I made you worried for no reason. I’m sorry.”

“It wasn’t ‘no reason,’ you had a nightmare,” he said. “That’s a good reason. You’ve been through a lot. There’s no shame in it. Adults have bad dreams sometimes, too.”

Sniffling, she shifted to lie in the fetal position so she could see him better, with her head still in his lap. The cuff of her sleeve wiped her nose. Oh, the indignity of bawling your eyes out. “Really?”

“Really. Do you want to talk about it? You don’t have to, but if you want to, I’d like to listen.”

Her lower lip trembled. “I…it was…it was my fault. All of it was my fault.”

He cradled her head with one hand so he could wipe her tears away with his thumb. “What was your fault?”

She leaned in to the touch. “I… I blew up the factory. It was my monkey bomb. I killed everyone… except Vi. She left me because I killed them. Mylo and Claggor and Vander. I fell off the building when the bomb went off, but I saw them all dead in my dream, all crushed and bloody. Their ghosts found my dream and they turned into monsters and they screamed and screamed and screamed at me because it was my fault and dying hurt and they were so mad.” Fresh tears wet her face. “They wouldn’t let me wake up, they kept playing it over and over like it was a picture show. I tried to scream so many times but nothing came out. Then I woke up. I guess I finally got a scream out, if you heard it. Sorry.”

He meditated on her words before responding, steady and calm. “You didn’t kill Vander. He survived the blast with only a few scratches. I killed him. I stabbed him twice with the knife I stole from him when he tried to drown me. You remember me telling you about that?” She nodded, so he continued. “He drank a vial of Shimmer to hold on for a little longer, long enough to get Vi out,”—he couldn’t help sneering her name—“before it exploded again, but he died because of the wounds I gave him.” He chuckled. “That was a very impressive bomb. You have a talent for gadgetry.”

“They never work, they only mess everything up,” she grumbled, defeat in her voice. “I put some magicky exploding crystals in that one, that’s the only reason it worked. Now I’m back to them not working.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “I never want to see those things again.”

“Fixable in time,” he assured her, “on both accounts. We’ll find you some resources and see where they’re going wrong. They won’t mess everything up when they work. And they will work.”

She turned to lie flat on her back, still using his thighs as a headrest, hands drawn up over her chest. He moved his hand to rest on the top of her head. No pressure, no petting, only a comforting presence. She wiped the last of her tears off her face. “I don’t wanna go back to sleep. They’re gonna come back, I know it. I see them when I’m awake sometimes, too.”

He filed that one away under crucial information and considered the rest of what she said for a few moments. Compared it to everything else he knew about her thus far, and reflected on what he felt comfortable with, or not. “Would you like me to stay with you?”

Her eyes widened. “You—?” No other words got through.

He offered a reassuring smile. “I know my way around monsters. I make them, and I control them. Those ghosts won’t dare haunt you while I’m here.”

Silence. Locked eyes. He relaxed his entire body, softened his expression, and offered a reserved smile. His fingers rubbed faint lines into her hair, the smallest gesture with a featherlight touch she may not have even felt. Her eyes stayed wide, scanning his face. Looking for a catch in his words, perhaps. Or a lie.

“Why do you have an eye patch? You look like a pirate,” she said. She gives him whiplash sometimes with how fast her thoughts can switch between vastly unrelated topics.

He forgot he had it on. He doesn’t feel it on his face anymore when he wears it at night, so acclimatized to its presence. He chuckled. “I can’t close this eye. I have to cover it when I sleep, in case I end up on my side.”

She seemed satisfied with the answer. Sitting up, Jinx crawled to the other side of the bed and slipped under the blankets. And Silco processed what his offer required him to do. In truth, he’d never shared a bed with someone before, much less a child.

After hesitating for a few beats, he folded the blankets open enough to settle under them, pulling them up to where she had positioned them on herself. She turned to face him, so he turned to face her, glad she chose the side of the bed that put him on his left so he could meet her eyes.

“And why are your pajamas so fancy? They look like topsider pajamas.”

He beat down his surly reaction. If anyone else compared him to a Piltovan, he’d end their miserable life. “I like being comfortable,” he answered, calm and simple, and offered her his arm.

She pinched the shiny red sleeve between her fingers. Her lips formed an “O” and she took it in a fist. “What is it? It’s so soft.”

“It’s silk. Have you heard of it?” He asked. She shook her head. “It comes from spiders, or caterpillars. People collect the silk they make and make clothes with it. It takes a long time, and is very painstaking, so silk clothes are expensive.”

Her transfixed countenance meant it possible she heard none of that. She kept her eyes focused on her fingers, still rubbing his sleeve.

“None in the Underground have the resources to make it, or the coin to afford it, with things as they are now,” he continued. “I’d like to see that change. We all deserve the same luxuries the topsiders enjoy, if we want them. I want us to have the choice.” He smiled. “Would you like your own?”

That got her attention. Wide, excited eyes met his again. “Yes! Can mine have little monkeys on them, or sharks or something? Yours are kinda boring.”

The ease with which his smile widened surprised him. “I can’t guarantee it, but I’ll ask.”

She drifted off not long after, and he stayed awake to watch her sleep. Both to make sure another nightmare wouldn’t strike, and to contemplate the smile still lingering in his face muscles. Genuine, involuntary smiles and humor doesn’t happen to him. Nor did he make a habit of offing comfort and emotional support to others, but his interactions with her always felt like second nature. Thinking without thinking.

Humming in his throat, he snipped himself free of the web of thoughts trying to ensnare him. He forced his body to relax, adjusted his position on her pillows, and studied her again. An unknown intuition compelled him to tuck the blankets tighter around her. The way she nestled into it did… something… created a pinch in his chest. The first spark of connection between two hearts damaged by betrayal, beating as one through the night as they enjoyed the solace of not sleeping alone.

Her nightmare repeated itself a couple of nights later. He ran to her with the same urgency on the chance something else made her scream. To his relief, only another nightmare, one that had her hugging her legs with her head tucked under her arms this time. He sat on her bed and let her come to him again. She put herself in his lap, and he rubbed her upper back while she rode out the panic. When the sobs subsided, she stayed in his lap but didn’t speak. She hid her face from him so he couldn’t see it pinching in humiliation.

“You have nothing to be ashamed of,” he said. “I’ll never think any lesser of you for having nightmares.”

She shifted so she could see him. “Vi wouldn’t be having nightmares,” she said, dejected. “She was always the strong one. I’ve always been the weak one.” Her fists clenched in frustration. “I don’t want to be this weak anymore. I’m not useful to you if I’m weak.”

He recognized her explosive potential even before she told him about the cannery bomb. Her tinkering and crude diagrams littered her bedroom and spilled into the living room. He had no need to fashion her into a weapon: she chose that path for herself. Nonetheless, her words twisted a knot in his chest, squeezed around his heart. “You’re not weak. You’ve been through a lot. And you aren’t a tool to me. You’re not a thing to be used.”

She sniffled. “What am I?”

He pondered a moment, looking for the right words. “Resilient,” he said. “When I look at you, I see a force of nature that will, in time, lay waste to any challenge the world throws at you.” Smiling, he rested a hand on the top of her head. “You won’t be a child forever. You will grow, you will learn, and you will prove everyone who doubted you wrong. I’m looking forward to watching you come into your own.”

Silent tears still escaped down her cheeks, but the smile she returned him reached her eyes. Not for the first time, it struck him how beautiful she was. Her eyes projected her entire soul for him, raw and vulnerable and so much stronger than she would let herself believe.

Her gaze moved off of him into the room behind him. She lost her smile when she met his eyes again, her brows and the corners of her eyes pinched. They flicked out and back one more time.

He had an idea of what she saw behind him. Rubbing her hair with his fingers, the words flowed out of his mouth without thought or resistance. “Would you like to stay with me tonight?”

Her face relaxed. “With you? Like, in your room?”

“Yes.” He slept fine in her bed last time. They both fit comfortably on it. And the mattress deserved its price tag, but he prefers sleeping in his own bed. He doesn’t want her to have to share a room with her ghosts when she could stay in his.

He offered his hand. She placed hers in it, crawled to the edge of the bed, and threw her legs over to stand. Her hand stayed in his on the way to his bedroom. Opening the door, he gestured for her to enter so he could close it behind them and turned on the lights.

“Wow, your bed is huge,” she said. "What do you need all that space for?”

He chuckled. “Because I wanted it.”

“Yeah but why?” she asked as she started to poke around. She inspected all the paintings, books, and trinkets on the shelves and dressers; opened drawers and the closet.

Her back to him made her miss his smirk. “Why not?”

He sat on the bed while she satisfied her curiosity. The snooping didn’t bother him; he had nothing to hide from her. He couldn’t imagine letting anyone else into this room, let alone allowing them to invade his privacy like this. That should bother him—he won't get close to anyone ever again—but try as he might, he can't bring himself to care. Keeping her calm and comfortable benefits them both.

The blankets stayed tossed back from when he bolted out of bed to check on her. He pushed them away to slide back in, leaving room for her to join him when she was ready. She still thought of herself as an intruder in his life, and he never wanted to pressure her. Invite her in, stay patient, and let her come to him at her own pace. He didn’t know what to call their relationship yet, or how to say where it might go, but he knew for certain he would never force anything on her. He would get however close she wanted them to get, and no further.

Her finger rested below her bottom lip as she finished looking around. When their eyes met, the curiosity in hers drained to uncertainty. He smiled and settled in, smoothing the open sheets next to him. She stood with her arms shielding her chest for six heart-wrenching seconds before permitting herself to crawl in with him. Turning down the light, he helped draw the blankets up around her. He left them a candle flame’s worth of light to talk away some of her anxious energy.

“Vi used to do this for me,” she said, tone unreadable, “if I ever had a bad dream, or if we were playing monsters and I got scared. I’m supposed to be old enough not to be so scared anymore.”

“Fear doesn’t go away as you get older,” he said. “You get better at doing things while afraid.”

She settled deeper into her pillow. “Did you have bad dreams when you were my age?”

“All the time.”

Her eyes widened. He knew she wouldn’t expect that answer. He kept his face soft, not letting the smugness show.

“What were they about?”

“The mines, usually.”

“You worked in the mines?”

He hummed in assent. “From the day I was strong enough to use the picks until the major collapse that closed most of them down. I used to have dreams about getting lost down there, or stuck in the crevasses they had me scout, or caught in a collapse.”

“Did it ever happen?”

“Not to me, but to many of us. Between the gasses and the cave-ins, we lost people so often we avoided getting too well acquainted.”

“You lost friends down there?” She asked. He nodded. “Did you see them in your dreams?”

“Perhaps,” he said. “It’s been a while. Most of what I remember was getting trapped down there alone. I still had to go back to work in them the next day, and I was more likely to have an accident if I was tired, so I learned how to go back to sleep even if I was afraid.” He added for her benefit, “I don’t recall ever having two in the same night.”

The shadows around them stirred with echoes of monsters long abandoned. An old friend never quite forgotten, but left where it belonged: buried under the rubble in the tunnels. The formless thing that used to sit on his chest and hold him prisoner between wakefulness and sleep. With his mind alert and his eyes active, but the rest of his body rigid and immune to his commands to move. Sometimes it brought the walls down around them, which spooked him awake.

He thought of it like a game, back then, for the sake of his sanity. A trickster that shook up his dreams on occasion, and made them more lifelike than necessary. Too lifelike to call a dream, really; more like a hallucination, yet his body remained paralyzed, as if still asleep. He spent more nights than he’d care to admit terrified of the demon returning to mock him as it held him down.

She sighed and drew the blankets tighter around herself. “I hate that it plays over and over. And then sometimes they change the details. Things that didn’t really happen that makes it even worse. Like the explosion ripped them apart instead of crushing them.” Tears tickled at her waterlines. “You died in the explosion tonight. Everyone did. It killed everyone and I was alone. No one found me in the rain after because there was no one left to find me.”

Compulsions tugged on the tendons in his arm, urging him to cup her face or pull her closer; to reach out to her, somehow. When he refrained, the tension migrated to squeeze his heart. “You aren’t alone. And I don’t want you to feel that way. If you’re ever scared, and having me with you would help, then I want to be here for you.”

Her eyes shone with the war raging behind them, the yearning for acceptance at odds with the schema of being a burden. “Really?”

“Really. If you’re scared, let yourself in here and stay with me. We can talk if you want, but I won’t ask, and we’ll just go to sleep.”

She scooted closer to him, now almost nose-to-nose on the pillows. Her eyes scanned his face as she processed his words. “When you were my age and you had a bad dream, did you have anyone to stay with you?”

He wondered how long it would take her to get there. She never let their topics stay focused on her, and took every opportunity to ask about his life before meeting her. Warm but sincere, he breathed a simple, sincere, “no.”

She nuzzled into his chest, molding herself against him and slipping her arm under his in a loose embrace. “I would have stayed with you.”

He could only hum an assent through the shock and fog in his mind. His heart pounded against his ribs, the dizzying pulse in his skull churning his stomach. He willed his body to relax—he didn’t want her to think she’d done anything wrong or that he didn’t want her to touch him.

It shakes him to his core every time she does because…well, he can’t remember a time anyone wanted to touch him.

He draped his arm around her, resting his hand on the mattress behind her to return the hug without overstepping. Would his hand on her back be overstepping? It might. He doesn’t want to push her.

Her breathing slowed, and all the tension keeping her so snug against him released. He adjusted his position in slow, delicate movements until they slotted together comfortably. Part of him wanted to stay awake all night to watch her, to wake her if he saw a nightmare playing on her face, or to make sure the ghosts hiding in her bedroom didn’t follow her in here. The sentimentality of a younger man he left for dead a long, long time ago trying to wake up, and bringing the past with it.

Whispers in low tones stirred the shadows again, their chilling weight tickling at his muscles in all their favorite places. He denied the trickster’s eyes the right to manifest. The scent of Jinx’s hair and the fluttering of her heart against his chest carried him into a warm, dreamless sleep.

[magugbigug]

Re your Voltron legacy analysis post:

As someone who has not ventured into the original franchises before vld, I truly struggle to see where any chemistry between Keith and Allura may lie.

Don’t get me wrong, this isn’t because I am set on any other ship. Though I have to admit I can at least understand the dynamic of basically every other ship. Somehow, I can picture Keith with literally everyone except Allura.

What is the Allura and Keith dynamic like for you? How do they fit together in a vld context? Can they fit in a vld context? I understand that both their characterisations are changed in vld. Would it be similar to the shiro and Allura dynamic in season 1/2? Is it just something I need to watch the previous shows to understand?

Cheers

That’s a fair question. VLD definitely changed both Keith and Allura from their past iterations, which makes their dynamic less immediately recognisable compared to earlier versions of Voltron. But for me, their potential in VLD comes from their parallels and the subtleties in their interactions.

Both of them struggle with loss, identity, and leadership in ways that mirror each other. Keith with his Galra heritage and role as Black Paladin, Allura with the weight of being the last of her kind and the pressures of being a leader. They clash, but they also push each other to grow. There’s an underlying understanding between them that builds over time, even if it’s not the most overtly romantic dynamic in the show. Honestly, I think it could have worked if the show had leaned into it more, but maybe I’m just bitter (or projecting).

I think a lot of Kallura’s potential in VLD comes down to the subtleties in their dynamic—things that aren’t outright stated but still present if you’re looking for them. And I’ll admit, I’m not always the best at picking up on those details myself (often if it's not explicitly stated I likely won't get it, sometimes I don't get it even if it is explicitly stated), but thankfully, people way better at media analysis have pointed out a lot of moments that hint at something deeper.

For example, I saw a post someone once noted that in the alternate reality episode, when an explosion goes off, everyone else is focused on the blast—but for a single frame, Keith is looking at Allura instead. Little things like that, while not definitive, suggest where his priorities lie. Another thing that stood out to me is how there are only two people Keith truly seems to care about impressing: Shiro and Allura. He’s always visibly upset when he thinks Allura hates him—especially after his Galra heritage is revealed—and that says a lot for someone who normally shuts people out.

There’s also the fact that Keith and Allura are the only two who make the decision to run away together to protect the team. It speaks to a similarity in their thinking, their sense of loyalty, and their willingness to take on burdens alone. If Keith had stayed at the Castle instead of joining the Blade, I think we could have seen that dynamic explored even more, and maybe their bond would have strengthened in a way that made their connection more obvious.

I also think a big part of why it never fully developed was Keith leaving to join the Blade. If he’d stayed at the Castle, we might have seen more of their dynamic evolve, especially with how they both dealt with grief and responsibility. They were on parallel arcs, but the distance meant they never really got the chance to explore that connection. If things had played out differently—if Keith had been there during Allura’s lowest points or if they’d had more time to rely on each other—it’s easy to imagine a stronger bond forming.

That said, I totally get why it’s not an obvious pairing in VLD. The Shiro/Allura dynamic in the early seasons does have some similar beats, but Keith and Allura’s potential would’ve been more about equals learning to trust and rely on each other rather than mentor/student or protector/leader. If you ever do check out the older series (and I highly recommend you do), you might see where some of the history comes from—but I’d argue their potential in VLD exists regardless.

If you ever want to get a sense of how other people interpret it (people smarter than me), taking a peek at the Kallura tag (admittedly biased as it is) might help! But I totally get why it’s not something that stands out if you’re not looking for it.

Again, I could just be really bitter, but I'll let you decide that.

I hope this is a good answer because, as I said, I'm terrible at analysing (just ask my English teacher).

Cheers!

[heartlightheartbright]

Hey! Thanks for your patience while I'm being a bit slow! I'll be trying to catch up a bit in the next few days and tossing up offers to get some more starters on the way, too. So many mutuals, so little time!

In the meantime, for those of you who'd prefer context on what's going on, there's a read more for that. If you'd prefer just to stick with rp and not worry, hey, no worries! Just don't click.

Uh, tw: explosions. And attempted murder, I guess.

Someone asked me why I got back into rp and I responded "well the building I was in got blown up". So anyway, the joke was that it wasn't a joke.

It just didn't get blown up as much as was perhaps initially intended. I also wasn't part of the group of people the perp was trying to kill- he just...didn't necessarily care that a bunch of innocents were there.

I was unfortunately pretty close to the blast when it went off. I'm physically fine, as is everyone else who was there. No one was seriously injured. It's just meant things have been messy thanks to...being right there, lol. Add the whole #trauma thing to the whole deal and I've admittedly had some stuff to deal with.

The situation at the moment gets quiet for a few weeks and then picks back up, so I can't even really say when it'll be over. Knowing the legal system, maybe I'll be lucky enough to see the end of it in like... two years.

So, please bear with me. Some days are better than others. There's a whole lot more good days than bad, but I'm still taking life a day at a time right now. This blog is genuinely a place I intend to keep fun and light-hearted, but if I go quiet for a few days, this is undoubtedly part of the reason why.

[onlyhereforghosttrick]

No time to say goodbye - A PMD2 Oneshot

Yup that's right! Did you think I was joking? No I was NOT! It's here, it's done, and I am VERY EXCITED ABOUT THAT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Before we actually get into stuff, small disclaimer; this fic contains the following:

Canon non-compliance

PMD2 Main game spoilers

PMD2 Post game spoilers

PMD2 Special episode spoilers somehow probably

Fan characters [all of which are mine] and canon characters alike

A writer who has no idea what he's doing

A beginning that came out better than the middle

and the eighth deadly sin: Acknowledgement of the fairy typing in the context of a pmd game that isn't super.

With that out of the way, I hope you enjoy and I hope it hurts you at least somewhat! [but like in a good way]

Makoto reached into his bag, a sense of urgency on his mind. Come on, where did I...? His thoughts were cut short and replaced with another jolt of panic as growls came from the two passages surrounding the room he was in, telling him one thing: They were closing in on him fast. His fears were quickly confirmed as the Sableye entered the room, one from each entrance, but apparently not quickly enough- as he quickly pulled out a Totter orb, slamming it towards the ground and closing his eyes to the ensuing flash.

The two staggered around slightly, confused by the bright light, and Makoto took a moment of pause to catch his breath... before quickly dashing past the passage one of them had previously been blocking. And there, on the other side were the stairs to finally lead him out of this place. It seemed he had been taking too long, though, as the Sableye had both recovered while he was climbing the stairs and were now catching up to him. Taking out the other item he had withdrawn from his bag, a blast seed, a quick spark was all it needed before the explosion was already started. Taking his last few steps through the stairs as the explosion began to now echo from behind him, each step passing through distortion after distortion until...

"HUHHHH" Makoto let out a loud gasp as he practically fell through the exit to the mystery dungeon, seemingly startling his two companions that were waiting for him to catch up on the other side. He quickly picked himself up, walking over to them. "Alright, note to self, detonating a blast seed in an attempt to cave in the exit to a mystery dungeon so you can't be followed is probably my worst idea." He brought the bag he'd been carrying around to check it again quickly. Okay, oran berries, heal seeds, reviver seeds, a few luminous orbs, apples... should be good to go.

The two he were travelling with were mons he had more than enough time to familiarize himself with. ...Well, he wasn't really sure how much time he had known them since time had been stopped for a while, but the point still stood. The two were Minami, the Grovyle he had been raising from a Treecko before all of this started happening, and Celebi, a shiny little whimsical time fairy who had for some reason decided to help them. "Well, that's your fault for misjudging their power." Celebi reminded him. Since he was a human and not a pokemon, he couldn't understand what they were saying. Instead, she had somehow managed to learn to talk to him via psychic messages, and while he wasn't sure how it worked, it made communication a lot easier, so he didn't bother questioning it.

"That, and you should try not splitting up next time. You have no idea how nerve-racking it was to imagine how poorly you would fare for an entire 12 floors with those Sableye following you." She kept putting an unnecessary amount of flair into her wording, and while that did distract a bit from the intention, he could tell her concern was genuine. "Yeah, alright, no suggesting splitting up next time, I got that. Not like we'll need to." I responded, taking my bag off my shoulder and handing it to Minami. He was the one who usually held it anyways, I just took it because dungeon items were really the only way to defend myself since I didn't have the combat techniques either of them had. "But anyways, we should get-" A shrill howl pierced past my words, a reminder of why we had to keep moving. "...going, before they show up." I finished.

In addition to the usual chasers of Dusknoir and his Sableye army, their actions had recently reached a new audience, who were somehow twice as eager to get rid of them. Two of them, both dark-types, and apparently both with names too. Makoto wasn't sure why Celebi told them that, but he supposed it made referring to them easier. The first was a Zoroark named 'Feysara'. He was very clearly the more tactically oriented and leader-y of the two, although they still managed to best him most of the time regardless. The other was an Umbreon, apparently named 'Aigiel'. Stats-wise she was a bit worse off, but sheer brutality and execution made her arguably the more dangerous of the two. Once, when talking, Celebi made a comment about 'thinking Umbreon was supposed to be an evolution tied to friendship' that he hadn't been able to make heads nor tails of. And sometimes... neither of them seemed to see it, but he thought he saw a third pokemon lurking in the shadows behind them sometimes.

Another howl cut through the lifeless trees, this one closer than the one before it. "We have to go." He quickly snapped, getting up from the slight lean he had gotten into and heading towards the next clearing. "Are you both ready?" Minami gave a nod and quickly jogged over to him to follow, but Celebi...

"I'm staying behind." That wasn't the answer he expected to hear from her. Apparently his confusion was obvious, because she quickly began explaining. "I can take them. It's not like I don't have fairy type moves or anything. Besides, someone should probably need to hold them off while you two go do what needs to be done. The passage of time is just in the clearing up ahead, and I trust you know exactly what you're doing." Makoto paused, hesitant to just leave her behind... but this was what she wanted, so he supposed it was best not to fight her over it.

"Alright. Just... tell us if something goes wrong." He accepted her wishes , continuing forwards towards the Passage of time.... towards their last hope to save the future. I can't let their sacrifices be in vain.

---------------------------

Stepping into the clearing between the continuing treeline, Celebi wasn't wrong- the passage of time was right there. Not saying a word- partially because they wouldn't be able to understand each other if they did- the two exchanged a nod, and walked forwards.

It was oddly calm as they stood before the passage, as it formed an odd rippling pattern. Walking forward into it, a sense of distortion- similar to that of the mystery dungeons, albeit somewhat different, surrounded them. Makoto knew they couldn't be held off forever, so he really just hoped that Celebi was right about them not being able to follow them through.

A rustle echoed from the trees behind them. They kept going, but Makoto figured he might as well check. Looking back, he saw Aigiel- they must have broken away from fighting Celebi, but likely only them if Feysara wasn't with her. He kept walking, until he heard something else... and turning around again... his heart stopped for a moment as he saw a Dark pulse, aimed right at an unaware Minami.

Time seemed to slow and distort as he took one step after another, pushing him out of the way... only for time to catch up again, just in time to feel the pulse impact into him and send him flying backwards.

The momentum backwards never quite stopped, just slowed enough for him to start falling instead. He saw Minami pause, before rushing ahead. He understood, though- hestitating now would make it all for nothing. And as he continued to fall, Makoto's consciousness failed him... for the last and only time.

---------------------------

When he awoke again... the sun was shining down on him as waves crashed against his unmoving body. Everything hurt. It felt like he had just been slammed in the stomach, although by what he wasn't sure.

Who was he...? He couldn't quite remember. One name came to mind, which had to be his... 'Makoto'. And the fact he was a human ...but nothing else seemed to appear to him. Was that... really all he remembered...? As his eyes adjusted to the sunlight shining down on him, he quickly realized there was someone else there: A nervous-looking Eevee.

As she seemingly realized he was both awake and had noticed her, she started rambling at impressive speeds. "A-are you okay? You were washed up here and you hadn't been moving and I was starting to get worried and- and-" He wasn't sure how he was understanding her, but asking that could wait. "O-oh, I'm sorry, I haven't introduced myself yet," She interrupted herself, "My name's Aigiel. What's yours?"

[mememanufactorum]

Things I've said to my friends out of context (July 2023 edition)

* FEEL FREE TO SHARE AS YOU PLEASE, NO CREDIT NEEDED. CHANGE PRONOUNS OR ANYTHING ELSE AS DESIRED.

Stop tiptoeing your fucking death.

I see someone else has played Project Wingman.

Get your Taco Bell orchestrion roll.

I already know the smart thing to do in this situation, but when you're both enforcing it on me like this, it makes me want to buy it out of spite.

It'll just make my bank angrier, that's all.

Don't you flimflam me here, fucker.

HOW MANY LAYERS OF NEGATIVES ARE YOU GONNA BE ON?

HEY YOU WANNA SHOOT SOME OUTER GODS?

Have we just been Mandela Effecting ourselves this entire time into thinking that [name] was ever smart?

But there's a lot of little factors that probably wouldn't end up killing things that are already basically dead.

Dogs don't tend to like fireworks.

He wanted the magic fire stick.

I have TWO legs.

Where's the part where God sends down legally distinct Godzilla?

God wants to pick a fight with the human race? We're going to shoot God.

We don't quite have the power of God and anime on our side, but we do have the power of anime and a ridiculous defense budget.

One guy manages to survive and put out his own fire by RAPIDLY SPINNING on the ground.

Sure hope he found out he can punch his own shotgun blasts.

You know the funny thing? I wasn't about to yell at [name].

Man goes "Who the hell is Story of the Year?" I felt personally attacked.

I learned to claw and I liked it.

Just don't stare at the mirror, that way you don't have to worry about the mirror demons.

Whatever you do, don't look up Tallgeese Flugel.

Everything exists so [name] and [name] can slam and jam.

So I have finally found something that made me experience cringe overload for the first time in years.

I feel like I got gut-punched.

How the fuck did you make it through 90% of this game without ever using items?

You know how my ass has consistently played Pokemon since I was a kid? Pick my starter, literally use nothing but my starter, Unga Bunga my way through 100% of the game. Wing bang boom done.

Thank God we don't actually live in Armored Core timeline shenanigans, because something like this would probably result in war crimes between corporate mercenaries using mechs.

Missile launcher: Not actually a missile launcher. Just fires non-explosive, pointy, metal rods.

I also have food, you're not so special.

It wasn't just that I walked into a web, it's that fucking spooders kept shooting webs at me.

That's super fucking rude of you.

Fuck it. Take me, YHVH.

I'll blare Ace of Spades by Motorhead the whole time while we're on the freeway and the whole trip will take less than 2 hours.

Drop the bomb on me, [name]. I'm ready.

But if the dog comes to me and refuses to leave me, I have no choice but to give the affection.

I want to go back to the times where I could shitpost openly again.

Bad cosplay. He still has two arms.

So [name] is about to get BAJA BLASTED for once.

I am not sure what to say other than the fact that this sounds like an intricately layered shitcake.

Surely you would not mix and match M&M's and Skittles together, right?

You're both fucking creatures.

You fucking nondescript entity, beyond a creature at this point.

So I reserve the right to sit back and heckle from my heckler box.

I bet you ate it like a squirrel.

[monstergraffiti]

pros and cons of toq/kyoryu because this movie is having some kind of Effect on me and i need to put all this down somewhere:

pros:

the tonal shift on the toqger end was handled Really Well. These guys are a Fun Sentai and now they're stuck in a Serious Sentai movie. they're out of their depth and they're scared and confused, but they're not going to give up, even if everyone else is telling them to go home.

the setup for the toq endgame. there's a lot of stuff here that you realize was foreshadowing, or if nothing else is viewed in a different context. twinkle twinkle little star is never the same after watching this series. this movie takes place just before the final few stations and it's not much of a stretch to say the events that take place here are what lead to Right making the decisions he did in the finale.

the toqgers being caught in the kyoryuger's rolecall blast and getting knocked over by it got a chuckle out of me. i do enjoy whenever sentai series acknowledges the explosion as being an Actual Thing and not just for cool points / emphasis. plus, you know. since there was no opening theme song, this takes the place of them tripping and falling like they do in the main series OP.

cons:

daigo is just. really mean to the toqgers for a good chunk of the movie. and granted he has his moments in the series itself too but this is supposed to take place post kyoryu's finale and he spends a lot of the time being needlessly condescending to right and the others. granted some of it is because of [spoilers] but come on man. they saved your ass like twice. the least you could do is take them seriously. even during the actual boss fight he gets a few digs in at right that just feel like he's being a know-it-all jackass towards the newbies.

the other kyoryugers minus utchy don't really get much time to shine out of suit. a lot of this movie was mostly akira/utchy and daigo/right, and even then utchy spends a chunk of the first half as a literal baby, which also pulls akira out of combat because someone's gotta protect him. in suit, they're mostly paired up with their respective colors, with ian and mio being grouped together because the kyoryu's don't have a yellow, and the toq's don't have a black. their character dynamics aren't really explored because, again, daigo immediately comes along and kicks the toq's out to handle the situation himself, until it gets to the point where he literally can't.

ian's comment about not wanting to hit on mio and kagura after they're turned into kids by clock shadow. i'm glad you have standards my guy but this really isn't the time.

WMG bonus:

daigo thinks about what right said about protecting even the little things on earth. and then immediately looks over at a recovering amy. since this takes place at some point post kyoryuger, and we know that at some point between this and the events of kyoryu/kings, amy has prince. there's a nonzero chance that she's already pregnant here, and he knows that. or if nothing else, they've been trying for a baby already. rip to yayoi if they hooked up this early tho. poor girl never had a chance.

overall tho, i do think it's really good. as someone who enjoyed both toq and kyoryu, i feel like it was a good movie!! i had a lot of fun with it, and most of my gripes are just me taking it too seriously for being, you know. the marketable crossover movie. the ninninnger cameo was also fun, and i did enjoy their brief battle with the miniaturized kuliner.

[m-y-fandoms]

(NEW!) Super Danganronpa 2 boys reaction to: their S/O thinking they were going to hurt them - COMMISSION

You feral beasts have been asking for this for like two years LMAO. Someone finally commissioned me to do it so let's get it!

V3 boys version link

The reader's pronouns are never mentioned, so anyone can read this with themselves in mind!

Word Count:  13k words!! 4.8k of those words are Nagito's section alone, as the commissioner requested for Nagito's to be longer than the rest (Please show this some love my hands hurt)

Trope/Scenario: A couple is in an argument or stressful situation. One partner moves suddenly, maybe to ruffle their hair or wipe sweat from their face, maybe grab something or gesture as they yell, but their S/O cowers/flinches at the sudden movement, and braces themselves or cries out, thinking their partner was about to hit/hurt them. Then, the angst ends in fluff with the other partner expressing that they would never hurt their beloved. I will make variations to this base concept to spice up the piece and fit the characters because we DON'T do O.O.C. here!

WARNINGS: SPOILERS FOR ALL OF SDR2/SDR2 CONTEXT NEEDED TO UNDERSTAND SOME SECTIONS - additionally, SFW sexual content-wise, but mature themes are explored like explicit language, possessiveness, abuse, and unhealthy relationships. Remember, the games themselves are rated M.

Nagito Komaeda

It all happened so fast. You’d begged them not to do it. It didn’t need to go down that way. This never would’ve happened if they’d just listened to you.

It all happened so fast. One second your friends, your best and only friends, were piling onto your boyfriend, pinning him to the ground of the hotel lobby and the next, the world became an explosion of fiery red. A loud blast rang in your ears like a flash bomb or a gunshot fired off right beside your head without protective equipment. Kazuichi went flying, the back of Akane’s clothes were aflame. Fuyuhiko took on an expression you’d never thought you’d see from the resident tough guy of the group: eyes wide in genuine terror, mouth agape as he dove forward and away from the blast.

You begged them not to do this. Don’t corner him. Don’t force his hand. You knew him better than anyone else. And they didn’t listen to you.

You’d all grouped up before hand (minus Nagito of course) to discuss what to do about him. He was getting more and more unhinged as the days went on. Before the funhouse, everyone except for you saw him as a bit crazy, a nuisance, a freak but safe at a distance. Now… he was clearly a danger to himself and others. He knew something you all didn’t, and it was sending him into the self righteous hope power trip of the century. Something was so very different from the Nagito you knew and loved.

You’d warned them that it wouldn’t be like last time. He wouldn’t submissively let them tie him up in the old building and wait to be fed or released by Monomi. He was on the warpath now. You knew him. Once he got an idea in his head, that was it.

Fuyuhiko and Kazuichi had dismissed you immediately. You loved him. You’d do anything to protect that freak. They weren’t gonna heed your warning, because at the end of the day, you cared about him just a little more than you cared about the rest of them. Hajime and Sonia, even Chiaki - the more compassionate members of the group - had looked at you with pity in their eyes. They knew the last thing you wanted was to see your boyfriend tied up or hurt, and they felt for you, but at this point, the main focus had to be figuring out who put them on this island so they could escape, and preventing more death. Nagito was getting in the way of that. He needed to be restrained.

You never thought it would be like this, though. You knew he’d retaliate this time, that he’d resist, but maybe in the form of a struggle with his attacker: a punch, a kick, running away, hiding… not a fucking bomb.

As the explosion rang out from behind you, sending you leaping forward defensively, the world seemed to move in slow motion.

How could he do this? It’s one thing to fight off those who are actively trying to subdue you, but to blow up the entire hotel? He was really willing to hurt or even kill everyone too close to the blast, even those with little to nothing to do with the plan? What about you, who he claimed to love, who was his shining hope, who had been the only one in his corner at all times? He was willing to just blow you away as well?

Time sped up again, and you sat with your legs crossed in the rubble, ash and sweat smearing your skin. You just sat there, breaths hitching in your throat as you held back tears that threatened to fall. It felt like you were in a trance as you sat and thought this all over. Nevermind the flames at your back or smoke in the air. Why, why, why???

It wasn’t the little bit of blood running down your arm or the ringing in your ears that broke through your haze, but the clap of a hand on your shoulder blade. You turned and looked up at Hajime, dust in his hair and a cut on his cheek. The white uniform shirt he always wore was stained up and torn in one area.

“Hey, (Y-Y/N)!” He coughed, soot in his throat. “Are you alright? Come on, we gotta get out of here! Smoke’s not-” a beam collapsed behind him, startling him as he hooked his hands under your armpits and lifted you from your seated position. “Come on, this smoke’ll kill you!” You stood with his help, still halfway in a state of shock, and in truth embarrassment that the one you constantly defended from your group of peers had done all this…

“Is everyone…” you spoke weakly, your mind flashing to the safety of your friends.

“Everyone else is out. They’re safe, let’s go!” Hajime guided you out the way he came in looking for you, past a flipped couch and under a fallen beam. Once out in the fresh air, you regrouped with the rest, all in various states of shaken up.

Sonia immediately rushed over to you, ripping the red bow tie from her neck and dabbing the cut on your arm with the fabric before wrapping it around the wound. You thanked her with a nod. Akane, usually a bit scantily-clad anyway, had most of her remaining clothes singed off or torn. She looked more defeated then you’d seen her since Nekomaru’s death. She’d probably bounce right back soon though, knowing her. Fuyuhiko looked more pissed than usual, sitting by the pool alone. Kazuichi was being tended to by Chiaki. You overheard her saying Monomi would be bringing medical supplies and helping transport those seriously injured to the hospital for a quick check up. The students protested, however, wanting to stick together in the resort and heal up in their cabins. Your eyes bounced around the group, looking for someone in particular, though you didn’t know why.

Why? Were you truly that delusional? You must’ve been under some type of love hex. Had you Stockholm Syndrome’d yourself into being blind to his every fault? You couldn’t help it - you couldn’t deny the feelings you retained.

“Where’s…?” Your words faded off, thinking better of it. Maybe this was the wrong time. They probably didn’t want to hear about the dude who just tried to send them on a one way trip to heaven. It was too late, your words had been picked up by Fuyuhiko’s relatively undamaged ears.

“Are you fuckin’ kidding me?” He scoffed, yelling over from the pool. “He ran off as soon as he got the chance. Didn’t waste a second to make sure you were okay. You’re still worried about that asshole? He just tried to fucking kill us! You must be as crazy as him. I’m starting to think so, at this point…” 

“Fuyuhiko…” Sonia warned, a small frown creasing her porcelain face. Fuyuhiko sighed deeply, backing off the attack. He didn’t mean that last bit, he was just frustrated. He threw in the towel, too tired to continue putting up a fight. The old Fuyuhiko would've laid into you a little longer. True to his word, he was a changed man. He shook his head and went silent, disappointed in you to say the least.

You were a bit disappointed in yourself as well, frankly. Why did you still want to see him so badly, to make sure he wasn’t hurt, to make sure he knew you still cared? You didn’t know what you’d even do if you saw him again. The mix of fear, confusion and foolish adoration was potent within you right now.

After assessing everyone’s needs and injuries, it was decided that you all were to go to your cabins and rest for the night. Tomorrow, you would go as a group to the new island unguarded by its Monobeast and resume the search for the truth and freedom.

“Everyone just… yell as loud as you can, or run out of your cabin and alert the others if… if anything happens,” He looked you in the eyes as he spoke those last few words. Hajime chose the phrasing carefully but you all knew what he meant:

If Nagito came around looking to further this deranged and deadly plan of his. 

They said as he ran off he was blabbering on, yelling about the “end of Jabberwock Island” and such. It was pretty clear to the entire group that whatever he had in mind would mean chaos and peril for everyone still left alive.

~

Now back in your cabin, the sun had long since set as you continued to pace back and forth across the floor, from the full length mirror on your sliding closet door, to the entrance, then over to the small bathroom area and back again. You’d not even taken the time to shower and change your clothes. You were still a mess, your thoughts too busy to care about the blood and grime coating you.

Your mind raced, taking in everything that had happened so far in this nightmare of a class trip, taking in everything that could happen fairly soon. 

Your mind bounced to Nagito, purposely being coy when you all needed his mind desperately during trials. 

To Nagito, who actively tried to hurt someone in the very first trial, who offered to help a blackened if they ever needed him.

To Nagito, who held you close at nights and who you could open up to for hours. The same Nagito who you’d fallen for, body and mind, and who now was an object of fear and anxiety for you.

Were you really scared of him now…? Your Nagito?

A quiet knock at your door shook you out of your pacing routine. You figured it was Hajime, arranging another group meeting or maybe sweet Sonia coming to check up on you. Rushing to the door, you opened it just a crack and peeked out.

Your blood ran cold, a shiver shot down your spine. You’d never reacted to seeing him like this before. Not even close.

“Hello there, (Y/N). Oh wow, you look awful…” Nagito smiled gently at first, then the corners of his mouth slightly drooped, downturned at the state of you. You looked yourself up and down once quickly, now acknowledging that you had in fact forgotten to wash up, overwhelmed by the day. A moment passed with your heart beat picking up quickly, and you began to merely stare at him silently through the crack, unsure of how to proceed. Should you scream? Should you warn the others? Even if Nagito wouldn’t hurt you, what if he made his rounds to the other cabins and hurt the others? He wouldn’t hurt you, right? That assumption of yours was correct, right? You weren’t so sure anymore. “Well, are you gonna just stand there or are you gonna let me in?” He smiled innocently again before pushing his way past you and into the expanse of your personalized cabin. Your safe space.

“Nagito…” You let yourself exhale the breath you’d been holding in, turning to close the cabin door behind him. You hesitated on the door knob, contemplating making a break for it right then and there. “What are you doing here?” You tried to keep your voice steady and even, even as your chest thumped.

“What?” His brow furrowed, rounding on you as you closed shut the door and turned to face him. “What do you mean? I always hang out with you here!” Was he just not going to acknowledge today, when you literally could’ve died due to his actions? “I kinda missed it, you know, the smell of your cabin, your smell. Being in the funhouse all those days was such a bummer.” Approaching you in two strides of his long slender legs, he took you tightly into his arms, nevermind the dirt and ash that transferred from your clothes to his.

“N-Nagi-” your words were muffled into the fabric of his green jacket, and for a moment your spine stiffened, not sure how to receive the hug. You corrected yourself though, and relaxed, embracing him back. Nagito was volatile right now, extremely unstable, and you didn’t want to be perceived as disloyal, untrusting. Nothing to trigger him. He was clingy and needy with you quite often and that part you didn’t mind. You cared for him the way he was… but who he was had slowly been changing. Ever since he entered that damned Final Dead Room.

Nagito didn’t miss a thing, however, and you knew that. Your hesitation to hug him back made a blip on his radar.

“Is everything alright? How is my little ray of hope tonight?” He pulled back a bit, holding you at arm’s length to observe your features closely. This was so uncomfortable: the scrutinizing gaze, the sorry state of your body at that very moment, the sweat that began to bead on your forehead.

“Well, Nagito, you…” you wanted to soften the blow, and so took the initiative to this time hug him first, leaning your head onto his chest. This is what he wanted, right? Play along, don’t slip up. It’s funny, when your head rested flat against him and you inhaled his familiar scent, you felt that warm feeling that made you fall for him for just a second, until you began to finish your thought. “... today… earlier today… why did you do that? I mean… how could you, to me of all people? What if… I mean what if that explosion killed me?” Your heart beat sped up.

“Oh, silly, it wouldn’t have!” He replied as if the answer were obvious. “You’re my shining hope, my everything, and that bomb was only intended to disrupt the plans of those who were there to trap me! I was one step ahead my love. You were never in any true danger.” Ironic, as he ran a hand up and down the arm with the deep cut on it.

“Well, how would you know for sure? What if I were standing where Kazuichi was? He got the brunt of it…” you asked, but you knew whatever answer he had for you wouldn’t calm your aching heart.

“I relied on my luck, of course! It’s all I have to rely on now: you, and this useless ‘talent’ of mine.” His tone was bittersweet. His luck? He really left your safety up to his luck? Sure, you’d never seen it fail him before, but seriously…

“About that… Nagito,” you pulled away, expectantly unsatisfied with his reply and no less terrified of the inner workings of the man in front of you, “what’s made you feel this way, all of a sudden? Sure, our classmates were a little wary of you, but we were friends, all of us. You had them, too. What changed? In the funhouse you - well ever since the Final Dead Room, you’ve changed. In the trial, you said you’d learned about Hajime and how he doesn’t have an ultimate talent, and the secret behind the funhouse’s design… but there’s more you aren’t telling us… I can feel it.” Walking over to a chair beside your bed, you sat down, wrapping your arms around your middle defensively. You felt small and vulnerable under his gaze, which followed you like a hawk.

He didn’t like hearing that - that he’d changed - not from you. You were the only one exempt from his plans, even if you didn’t know it at the time. He loved you and you loved him, and he didn’t want anything to change about that. This couldn’t be just another thing that his miserable life ruined for him. For now, he ignored it, deciding that maybe letting you, the only one he could truly trust, in on his little plan would ease your mind and bring you back to him whole.

“You’re right as usual, my love.” He stood in the center of the room, gesturing as he began to get off of his chest all that he’d gleaned from his time in the funhouse. “How perceptive of you. My little hope is so incredibly smart. It’s one of the reasons I know you’ll guide this useless pack of idiots, including myself, to the highest potential our negligible little lives could ever reach!” How could you have guessed at that time that he meant when he and all the rest he deemed unfit were long gone, wiped from this world by his own will? “I’ll let you in on it, if my little bird promises not to chirp to the rest of the flock, of course…” He grinned at you as if he were a mischievous little kid about to announce a school prank and not a man dead set on getting his classmates killed. You nodded instinctively, not prepared at all for what you were about to hear. “Well it’s quite simple, really. We’ve known about the existence of a traitor for awhile now, right? We thought this entire time that the one of us who was not like the others was to blame for this entire thing, that the despair that ensnared us and caused death after death was caused by this ‘traitor’, right?” You nodded again, wanting desperately to appease him in any way you could. “Well, we couldn’t have had it more wrong, and as my reward for winning the ultimate roulette in the Final Dead Room, I was allowed this knowledge to share - or not share - as I please.” He was smirking now and your heartbeat began to pick up once again. You did not like that look in his eye. The pale planes of his cheeks began to get rosy with that self-satisifed expression he often donned when he knew his plans for hope were on track.

“W-what do you mean, Nagito?” Your voice shook and you sat up in your chair, shifting uncomfortably in place, a motion he noticed immediately. Again, he didn’t appreciate that reaction from you one bit. Why were you so uneasy around him tonight? His mind couldn’t comprehend it.

“Turns out, this whole time,” he held his arms out to each side as if surrendering himself to the powers that be, “It was us! We were the wicked ones. We were the despair, the disgusting evil that clouded all hope.” He began to chuckle at the irony that only he understood in his words. “This ‘traitor’ is the only one who can stop us! They are meant to save the world from the plague of our very existence!” He began to chuckle, a devious and unstable sound emanating from his core.

“H-how could you mean - I mean… Nagito, how could we be evil? Why would you think that? We have been working together to stop Monokuma this whole time. It couldn’t be -”

“Does it really matter how? It’s the truth! I know it is!” He cut you off, startling you as he approached and sank to his knees in front of your chair. Leaning in, he took your hand in his clammy, translucent one. He kissed the tops of your knuckles sweetly - a gesture he often did when you were alone together - and you went rigid, unsettled by his manic words. Another reaction he frowned at. “I mean, you believe me, don’t you? Have I ever been wrong before? Every time I tell you who the blackened is, I’m right! Every mystery I’ve uncovered on this island, every deduction I’ve shared with you and only you, has been correct! Every time I’ve been ‘wrong’ to them, I’ve chosen to play dumb. I’ve never lied to you, I wouldn’t!” He looked frantic, his eyes darting back and forth between yours. When you didn’t reply, he continued. “The traitor, they are the one, true hope for our vile and corrupted lot!” He smiled, again, as if this were the obvious conclusion one should draw from his words, but you just couldn’t see your friends as the monsters he portrayed them as. You couldn’t even see him that way. It just didn’t make sense. Maybe whatever he read in the Final Dead Room was just more lies, planted by Monokuma as a motive to sow more division. Nagito was too smart to fall for that…

“So, what is the solution, then… your plan?” You were almost too afraid to ask, having a good idea of what it would be. His frenzied grin softened into a straight and very serious line. You felt your stomach twist itself into knots.

“Well… we have to go, of course. All of us, except for the traitor.” He stated plainly. Eyes widening just a tick before going neutral again, you tried not to convey the abject fear in your heart. “We all have to die, it’s the only way. The traitor will go on, as the only ray of hope we have left.” With that, you yanked your hand from his grip, and his eye twitched in response.

He was willing to kill you all? All of your peers, your innocent peers who had been through so much already, together… snuff them out just like that?

“Nagito… you know who the traitor is, then…?” His head tilted at that, like a curious puppy confused at his owner’s words. “The one you’re going to spare, you know who it is?” Did it even matter anymore? At this point, the Nagito you loved was long gone. You needed to warn the others. His answer mattered to you personally, nonetheless. Your brow furrowed, your psyche overstimualted by this entire conversation. You pressed him. “Nagito… you know who the traitor is, right?” A little sterner this time, you waited for an answer that would never come. Almost as if he were too prideful, or maybe too ashamed to admit he would have to rely on his luck yet again to meet his goals, he ignored your question.

Chills running throughout your body, you quickly shot up out of the chair. Standing abruptly and causing the slender man to stumble back a bit, you steadied your shaking hands by balling them into fist at your side.

“(Y/N) -” Nagito began as he stood to meet you. Why were you acting like this? Didn’t you have the same goals as him? Didn’t you see the necessity of this plan? Didn’t you love him as much as he loved you? Didn’t you know that know that you - his unbreakable hope - the only pure thing on this miserable island, had to be the traitor? How could it be anyone else? He couldn’t be one hundred percent sure, as the file in the Final Dead Room didn’t name you specifically, but it just had to be you. It had to be. He would delude himself until his last breath.

“O-okay, Nagito, I agree! Yes, y-you’re right of course!” Play along, (Y/N), play along, your survival instincts screamed at you internally. Now it was Nagito’s heart that began to beat fast. He could sense a lie a mile away, and you knew that. Was he truly losing you? “Tell you what, let me shower, I can’t stand this filth on me for one more second.” You forced a nervous chuckle. “After that, I’ll meet you somewhere, um… away from the cabins so the others don’t find out, and we can discuss this further.” In reality, you were hoping that as you showered, he would leave to find a meeting place so that you could run to the other cabins and warn the others. He took a step toward you, and you took a step back in turn. He cringed at that, a hand reaching out weakly for your touch. It fell to his side when you backed away until your back was at the bathroom door and you reached behind you for the handle. “Okay? You go scope out a safe place for us to meet!” You looked for confirmation, fake smile still plastered across your face until your jaw hurt from clenching so hard.

“Okay, (Y/N)...” his heart broke at your willingness to lie straight to his face. You’d never done that before. You would always be honest with him, even with the silliest thoughts. You nodded in reassurance, slipping into the mini bathroom afforded to you by Monokuma and closing the door. It was a modest thing, a small alcove in each cabin with merely a shower stall, sink with a mirror, and toilet all snug into one tiny area. You undressed like the wind, ready to take the quickest shower of your life. Just a rinse for the blood and dirt, running the water long enough to be convincing and you were out. You needed time to run to at least a few of your classmates' cabins before Nagito got back. Whoever you got to first could spread the word. You slid the glass shower stall door open and jumped inside, not even waiting for the water to warm up.

Soaking yourself promptly, you began to scrub off the day you’d had with a small wash cloth nearby. Mere minutes into your shower, you heard the small bathroom door slam open. Freezing instantly, you halted all motion and stared at the figure in the doorway that was a blurry mess of greens, creams and whites through the frosted glass of the shower door. Without a word, the figure approached the shower door and you felt your body go into fight or flight mode, adrenaline kicking into high gear.

This was it… you thought. You were sure that if you were the traitor, you would’ve known. The traitor was still out there, hiding their identity, and now Nagito was going to do exactly what he said he was going to do. You had to go… hope for the world was the end goal that superseded romantic feelings. Your life flashed before your eyes, and you thought of your friends, and how you failed to save them.

Nagito threw open the sliding door, and you fell back against the beige tile behind you, hands flying up to protect your head and face. You didn’t know how he would kill you, but braced for an expected blow. Exposed, defenseless and naked, vital organs unprotected, you began to sob.

“No! Nagito, please!” You screamed at the top of your lungs as he entered the shower stall in a panic, clothes and all. He clapped one cold hand over your mouth, a hand that was shaking. Instantly, tears sprang forth from his own eyes. Were you really that scared of him?

“No, don’t scream, please! Please, (Y/N)!” He released your mouth, throwing his arms around your shoulders in a crushing embrace. The shower head continued to spray down, soaking him now along with you as he clung to you like his life depended on it under its stream. His wild, long locks clung to his neck and forehead and his wet jacket weighed him down. You both stood weeping onto each other freely, Nagito from a broken heart, and you from shock. You were too terrified to move, to care that you were completely nude. He didn’t seem to care either, crushing you in his grip. He was a lot stronger than he looked.

“Nagito… Nagito please…” you pleaded, still not entirely sure these weren’t your last moments.

“I can’t bear to see you terrified of me. You’re… you’re the only one…” He could barely speak through his choked out sobs. He shook his head vehemently, needy for your touch. His hands roamed up and down your back desperately. He needed to feel you there, to know you were real.

“What…?” You didn’t understand.

“You’re the only one,” he sniffled, “who shouldn’t be afraid of me! You’re my shining hope. You’re my light in this darkness!” Tears wracked his body. “Why would a complete and utter nobody like me, talentless trash undeserving of your love ever try to hurt you? I wouldn’t even dream of it. (Y/N), please don’t hate me. I couldn’t bear it!” His finger nails dug into your spine. He was conflicted, and couldn’t fight the swell of anger that contended with the sadness in his chest. It felt like you didn’t know him at all to think he would hurt you. You weren’t the despair he sought to end. You had nothing to fear.

“But, y-you said- !” You began and he interrupted, unable to hear any more doubts of his loyalty to you.

“I know you’re the traitor. I just know it! You’re too good, too perfect to not be…” You’d never heard him so unconfident in his own reasoning before.

“You can’t possibly know that, Nagito!” You spat back, limp in his arms.

“I do know it. I know it. I’ll bet my luck on it. I want it so badly, my luck has to come through. It’s you, it has to be! I could never kill you. I could never get you killed. The others are the despair, you’re the solution. I know it’s you. I’m gonna make it all right… just watch!” He stepped back, taking your puffy face in his hands, staring directly into your eyes. “You’ll make it out of here! You’ll survive the last trial and go on without me, my love. I know it’s you!” He was deceiving himself once again, daring to want something so badly, so selfishly.

He would never live to see just how wrong he was.

Fuyuhiko Kuzuryu

You, your boyfriend Fuyuhiko, and your best friend Peko went way back. As a kid growing up on Fuyuhiko’s side of town, everyone knew to avoid Kuzuryu property. Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately looking back at it, you were a pretty reckless as a kid, even if you weren’t now. You used to to slip through fences and past security cameras all the time to play with the blonde fuzzy-haired kid and the girl with the cool sword. Your parents scolded you when you came home, not knowing where you really were, but you always found your way back. The boy, who always had a temper, and the girl, who was the calm to his storm, repeatedly called you names, told you to never come back or his family would kill you, then played with you all day anyway. You had no idea what his family truly was, what the word yakuza really entailed, only that everyone said that part of town was dangerous. You didn’t see it that way, not when you played cops and robbers or samurai and peasant with your two best friends nearly every day. The boy, Fuyuhiko as you’d come to learn, would always rush you off the property if his father was coming home or when less friendly clan members came around, and you didn’t learn until years later why.

By that time it was too late for you to be scared of his yakuza status or Peko’s true strength now revealed to you. You were besties, and nothing was ever going to change that. Through middle school, you formed quite the crush on the petite bad boy, and although he still had a nasty temper and could be quite aloof at times, you wanted him all the same. A lifelong friendship bloomed into a romantic relationship - with hesitance on his part - and before you knew it, you were set to attend Hope’s Peak together. You kept your relationship secret from everyone save for Peko. Fuyuhiko insisted on this, for your own safety.

Now here you were, on this mysterious tropical island with all of your memories of Hope’s Peak wiped clean. You found that in general, many memories of your past were wiped clean, save for those few precious and essential ones. You remembered growing up with Fuyuhiko, your relationship with him, and Peko who you loved like a sister. Everyone else were strangers, strangers who seemingly also couldn’t remember how they got there or how you were all connected. You were all freshmen it seemed, and that was were it stopped.

Almost immediately after Monokuma’s appearance and monologue, Fuyuhiko had pushed both you and Peko away. He demanded you both pretend like you didn’t know him, treat him like everyone else and if need be, you’d meet in secret and away from prying eyes. This was to be a killing game with rules and trials, and no one else here seemed to know each other from their past. If the others found out you three were connected, you would no doubt all be dragged down if one of you got caught up in something nasty. Allies, a package deal and all that. He didn’t want your connection to him to put you or Peko in danger. He knew you’d both die for him, and he for you, and he wouldn’t let any of these idiots use that weakness against you.

~

The cat was long since out of the bag. Peko was gone and you’d helped Mikan nurse Fuyuhiko in and out of the hospital after his near-fatal wounds from trying to save the swordswoman from her from execution. Everyone knew of your relationship now, which meant no more sneaking around behind everyone’s back, but Peko’s life wasn’t the price you ever wanted to pay for that freedom. Along with Peko’s passing additionally came a visible change in your boyfriend’s soul. Though he still had that fiery temper, he controlled it with great effort now. He tried harder with people, forgave easier, loved better, appreciated more. The days of reflection in the hospital stirred something in him.

Weeks passed, and it was one tragedy after another. From the group giving you hell about keeping secrets, to tending to Fuyuhiko’s extensive wounds, to now finding Ibuki hanging from a rope and Hiyoko posted up against a pillar with her throat slit, your group couldn’t seem to catch a break.

Though Mikan and yourself begged him to get some rest - as his wound had already reopened once - Fuyuhiko insisted on investigating in preparation for the trial with everyone else. He was as strong-willed as ever. You searched the hospital with him for clues or evidence the blackened may have sloppily left behind. He was on edge, and you couldn’t blame him. Everyone was, these were the fifth and sixth classmates dead in the blink of an eye, and the killer was still on the loose. Your skin crawled and you were extra jumpy today. Every corpse you had to look upon took a little more of your innocence and vitality from you, and this maniac had already killed twice. What was to stop them from killing again?

Fuyuhiko insisted that he wasn’t scared of the blackened, quite the opposite. It was his rage aimed at them that would fuel his strength to move on and identify them. You knew him well, and knew when to back off when he was in a mood. Everything seemed to annoy him at the moment. It was hard to search with him and cooperate when he got pissed off everytime you fussed over his healing injuries. He kept swatting you away then apologizing for being irate and short-tempered. He just wanted you to stop babying him.

Just now bending over to search near a hospital bed, Fuyuhiko shot upright, jumping at a sudden sound that startled him.

“What the fuck-?!” He turned to the source of the loud crash behind him. You were splayed out across the floor behind him, a deep gash on your cheek spilling blood down your face as you sat up. “What the hell did you do?!”

“I just tripped! I’m fine!” You gestured with one hand to a small table you’d toppled over, holding your bloody cheek with the other. The contents on said table, various sharp little medical instruments and tools, were strew about and on top of your body. Fuyujiko glared at the hard counter top of the cabinet you’d hit your cheek off of on the way down. Now you knew how Mikan felt, always making a mess of her clumsy self.

“You’re a fuckin’ idiot! Why don’t you watch where you’re going?! We’ve got enough shit to deal with right now!” He kneeled down to your level and started rapidly picking up the various scalpels and knives around you.

“I’m sorry, ‘Hiko…” the shame was setting in. He was already ornery today and you’d somehow made it even worse. He leaned over your body, reaching for more of the small instruments.

“Sorry’s not gonna cut it! You-”  hovering over you, he lifted one of the razor sharp tools above his head in a clenched, angry gesture. You turned your head, gasping slightly and flinching away from him. Your free hand came up to cover your face with your eyes shut tight in a grimace. Upon seeing you recoil, cowering away from him like that, he halted, the rest of his complaint dropping off into oblivion.

He didn’t want to be like that anymore, remember? He reminded himself of his temper, of his talks with Hajime in the hospital, of Peko’s memory urging him to do better, of his display of humility to Hiyoko in the hotel restaurant.

He cleared his throat awkwardly, putting the instrument aside and gently pulling you to your feet alongside him.

“Come on, sit down. Let’s get you cleaned up.” He pushed you gently down to sit on the hospital bed and reached for some simple disinfectant, a cloth to put it on, and a large bandage. He began to pat the blood away. “We’ll have Mikan look at this later to see if it needs stitches, but this is the best I can do for now.” He noticed you avoiding his eye contact and his heart sank. “Hey…” He held your chin, titing your head to look up and meet his gaze. “I’m really sorry, okay. I would never lay a hand on you. That is a fact. Please… know this for certain.”

“I know, I just… I don’t know… I’m sorry I reacted that way.” His apology helped, but you still felt a little foolish.

“No, it’s me who should be sorry. There’s no need to get that angry, especially at you, especially for an accident.” He sighed, running a hand down his face. He had a long way to go. “Please slow down. Be more careful and worry about yourself as much as you worry about me. I can’t lose you, too.”

Hajime Hinata

You’d closed yourself up in your cabin for good, with no plans to go out in the foreseeable future. Every few minutes you checked the locks, on both the doors and the windows, biting your nails down to nearly bleeding. In addition to shutting yourself in, you’d shut the world, the island, and all your classmates out. You were a nervous wreck.

Mere hours ago, Nagito had blown the hotel lobby and everyone in it sky high. He’d finally lost what little marbles he had left. Nobody knew fully why, but he’d snapped too far beyond repair. Both you and poor Kazuichi were very near to the blast zone, and even now you felt a dizziness and slight loss of hearing. You were sure that over in his cabin, Kazuichi was feeling the same way. You wanted to pass out, to scream, to topple over in exhaustion but refused to let yourself leave your post. As much as you were tired and dizzy, you were equally as terrified. What if that maniac Nagito showed up again to finish the job? Though the vertigo threatened to take you down for the count, you were determined to stay vigilant. Your mind grew more and more dull and hazy by the second, though.

Hajime and the others wanted to go to the new island in the morning, and as far as you were concerned, they could search until their hearts were content. You’d given up. You’d been broken. You’d been beaten by Monokuma and this killing game. Why go to a new island? Every time you guys went to a new island to explore, someone died. Everyone was dying. There was a psychopath hell-bent on blowing you up - or worse - on the loose. You were content to stay in your cottage and rot away. Paranoid and eroded away from trial after trial, you’d refused to let anyone in, even your sweet boyfriend, Hajime, who’d already tried to come check on you several times that night. Even as the rain poured down from the night sky and lightning cracked consistently, he kept coming back. He was extremely concerned about you, but you just couldn’t do it anymore. You didn’t trust anyone anymore. You couldn’t.

You trusted Teruteru, and Peko, and Mikan, and Gundham, and Nagito… it was all too much. Who would betray you next? Who would stab you in the back when you least expected it for a chance at freedom as a blackened who got away with it? It could be literally anyone. Sonia had a country to get back to, an entire country waiting for her. Fuyuhiko had an empire. They all had a reason to live and you’d be an easy target in this state of barely conscious, injured and mentally broken.

You’d almost fallen asleep when a knock came at your door, again…

You almost chose to ignore it, but figured getting your body moving would keep you awake, so you forced your feet over to the door.

“Hajime…?” You assumed, your voice weak.

“Man…” he sighed loudly, muffled by the rain and the barrier of the door, “(Y/N)... you sound terrible. I really do think you have a concussion. Please let me in. I’m worried sick.”

“Please go away, Hajime. I’m sorry… I’ll be fine. I just -”

“I know you’re scared. You know you can trust me.” There was that word again… Moments passed in silent contemplation. “... I’m gonna keep coming back until you let me in. I’m soaked… please…” he whined, jiggling the door handle on his side. Now it was your turn to sigh. You rested your head against the door, senses dimming fast. He was probably right, you most likely did have a concussion. Your head ached, your vision was a bit blurry, the light of your cabin bothered your eyes. “You can’t just stay in there forever, you need medical atten-” The door swung open before him, and you hurriedly signaled for him to come in, swiftly locking the door behind him.

“No sudden movements. I’m a bit confused right now… everything’s a bit slow…” Your words slurred out but he seemed to catch them all.

“Yeah, no shit. You were blown all the way across the hotel floor. Come here, let me check something.” He took your wrist and stood you in the center of the room in front of him. He pulled a small flashlight he won from the gacha machine from his pocket and flashed it into your eyes slowly. “Try to stand still.” You were trying to, but swayed and stumbled regardless. “See, you can’t even do that much. Look, since Mikan is gone, we gotta let Monomi help us out. Let’s get you to the hospital.”

“What?! No, no no…” your heart beat quickened, feeling that paranoid panic set in again. “I’m not leaving this room.” The confusion was hitting again as you stumbled backwards a step and your back met the side of your bed. Was this a set up? You already let him in, now he wanted to get you out in the open? “Something’s gonna happen! I won’t go!”

“(Y/N), I promise I’ll get you to the hospital safely and I’ll stay with you the whole time. I know you’re scared but you’re being irrational right now!”

A thunderous boom sounded outside as high above your cabin the lightning cracked. In an instant, all of the lights wavered and went out. You cried out into the pitch black. You couldn’t see even a foot in front of you. This was definitely a set up. It had stormed plenty of times on this island, and the lights never went out like this.

Hajime reached out for you in the dark, and you screamed even louder at his touch. This was it, the betrayal. It was inevitable on this hell of an island. No one could truly be trusted.

“(Y/N), stop! Stop yelling!” Hajime grabbed one of your wrists in the dark, and you sank to the floor, too dizzy to stand any longer. He heard the thud of your butt hitting the ground, though he couldn’t see it, and sunk to his knees beside you.

“Please… don’t hurt me, Hajime…” the words tumbled out of your mouth lazily. You wanted to pass out so badly.

“Hurt you?” He sounded incredulous, almost scoffing. Turning the screen brightness all the way up on his e-handbook, he set it on the ground beside you both for some type of light, as meager as it was, and sat the flashlight beside it. He grabbed your face in his hands, gently shaking you to alertness. He’d heard it wasn’t good to let someone with a concussion fall asleep. “I’d never hurt you.” He stated almost matter-of-factly. “You’re just going through a rough time right now... Don’t talk like that. You know I’d never hurt you. I care about you, a lot.” He adjusted your position so you were sitting up a little straighter.

It pained him to see you this way. This killing game was stealing your luster, your goodness, your spirit. He’d noticed that your smile - a smile he loved so very much - grew smaller and smaller with each trial. Now it’d come to this. You were frightened of even him…

“I’m so scared, Hajime…”

“I know. I know you are.” He spoke with compassion in his voice. “Will you let me help you? Please…?” He waited for your nod of confirmation before continuing. “Come on,” he scooped one arm under your legs and the other under behind your back and stood with you in his arms. “We’re gonna get you the help you need. I know it’s hard, but we are a team. You, me, Chiaki, Sonia, Kazuichi, Fuyuhiko, Akane, we need to do this together. I know it’s hard to trust after all that’s happened, but I’m gonna keep you safe, and we’re gonna survive this, together.”

Kazuichi Soda

Kazuichi sat in front of the busted funhouse elevator, ass nearly numb from sitting in that position for hours. He was squatting before, until his knees began to hurt as well. You sat behind him, handing him tool after tool when he needed it and offering encouragement and advice when you could. Still, he was being testy and very short with you and the two of you had gotten into it several times today already. Nothing big, just a few little spats. You had to keep reminding him that you were only trying to help, but nonetheless he was in a foul mood.

You knew he was truly mad at the situation, not you. His anger was misplaced but it still hurt. You’d all been locked up in the funhouse for days without food and with minimal sleep due to Monokuma’s interference and everyone was on each other’s last nerves. Now the elevator was broken, and the Ultimate Mechanic was expected to be the one to fix it. He’d been at it all day, and with each set back or miniscule perceived failure, he got more and more irritated.

You handed him a wrench you’d gotten from the hidden room beyond the Final Dead Room. All the tools he was currently using were from there as well. Oh yeah, that was another reason he was so pissed off. He’d never admit to it, but the fact that you were smart and brave enough to pass the Final Dead Room’s test unscathed and here he couldn't even fix this measly machine irked him like nothing else. He felt like the word useless might as well have been stamped onto his head. After he let out yet another frustrated groan, stretching out his sore wrist, you sighed and spoke up:

“Hey, Kaz’, it’s okay if you can’t get it done today. Let’s get some rest. We need to conserve energy.” He looked at you as if you’d just called him the biggest loser ever.

“That’s easy for you to say! You’re actually contributing to the group! You don’t have the burden of feeling like a failure on your mind!” He gritted his sharp teeth.

“You are contributing by even trying to fix it!” You retorted, not appreciating his tone or him starting an argument with you yet again today.

“Oh, don’t patronize me! You just don’t get it! Everyone likes you and you’re good at everything you try! I can’t even do what I was literally born to do correctly!” He spat.

“Oh, Kazuichi, give me a break! It is not that deep! Nobody even needs to use the elevator at this very moment!” You shifted your position right next to him, crossing your arms over your chest in a pouting display.

“If you’re not gonna help, then just go away!” He leaned forward toward you, raising the wrench in his hand in exasperation. You jolted backwards, leaning away from him with a fright.

…

Things got really awkward, very fast. The air went dead silent and all anger drained from his face. He lowered the wrench as a blank expression took over, followed by one of slight embarrassment. Did you really think he was gonna hit you with it? A moment passed, and you both looked away from each other, refusing to make eye contact.

“H-hey…” Kazuichi hesitated for a second, then made up his mind. Grabbing your shoulder, he seized you into his chest and held you tightly. His mind flashed back to his years in the family shop, to glimpses of his dad screaming whenever he angered him, even hitting him sometiimes for fucking up on a car. He might have even deserved it - he thought - but you didn’t. For sure, you didn't. He respected but feared his father, and he didn’t want to make anyone feel like that, especially not you. “I would never hit ya like that! Y-you gotta know that, right?!” His voice broke as he fought back tears. “I’m sorry for being an asshole today. This place just fuckin’ sucks you know? I can’t take it anymore!” You felt wetness soak through your shirt on your shoulder though you couldn’t see his face. You returned the hug, pulling him tighter into yourself. You two sat like that for a long while, resigned to give the elevator another try sometime later.

Nekomaru Nidai

You and Nekomaru were kinda… a thing? It was complicated because you were two very different people, but there was a little spark, a mutual crush that was known of and whispered about by the other students. It was weird, because you two flirted with each other, but nothing really ever happened because when he was around, you felt like a flustered mess, a puddle of mush. He was an intimidating, extroverted mountain of a man, and it was easy to become nervous in his presence. It’s like you were touch-starved, head over heels for your handsome classmate and yet the thought of him touching you turned you into an anxious idiot at the same time. You spent a quite lot of time together but there was rarely any touching other than a motivational clap on the back or the slap when you made a good joke, maybe even a very platonic-feeling bear hug as a greeting every once in a while.

In fact, you saw more chemistry between him and Akane, or even him and Hajime, two people he hung out with all the time. Heck, he touched Akane a lot more than he ever touched you. It made you feel a bit jealous, even. You felt silly even admitted this to yourself, as he wasn’t even your boyfriend and could do whatever he pleased, but it was frustrating nonetheless.

You wanted to be mature, to be honest and communicate your feelings with him once and for all because the pining, the unfulfilled feelings were driving you crazy but it had totally blown up in your face. Turns out your relationship with him was a lot more complicated than you originally thought. The talk ended up as a bit of an argument… well, it felt like you were arguing and stumbling over your feelings while he didn’t seem to be upset at all, which made you feel even more overwhelmed. You felt childish, unable to express yourself in a way that didn’t feel humiliating. He always seemed willing to talk something out, but at the same time didn’t really seem to understand how you felt in any other way than on a platonic level. He motivated, talked to, trained, and fixed people for a living, but maybe sports and romance were just too different for this conversation to click in his head. Or maybe… you were reading the signs all wrong. Maybe he didn’t like you back at all. Maybe you and your peers had misinterpreted his fondness for you as flirting, and you decided to accept that. You respectfully asked him to forget about everything you said, and apologized for the confusion and awkwardness, making your swift exit.

~

Sulking, dejected and needing some alone time, you walked along the lengthy bridge that connected Jabberwock Park to the island that housed the supermarket and resort. The sun was in the process of setting, leaving the island nearly dark with last last bits of daylight.

“(Y/N)!” You looked up from your navel-gazing to see a large figure bolting toward you at the speed of light. Nekomaru’s sudden appearance startled you even though you knew the guy to be loud and over the top. At that distance, you may not have been able to tell it was him in this little lighting if he weren’t yelling out your name. You’d recognize the voice from a mile away. As he finally approached, not the least bit out of breath, he began to speak immediately.

“Hey, (Y/N)!” He seemed a bit different, a bit less charged-up than his usual state. It was like a calm state of focus.

“Hey… Nekomaru.” You smiled weakly, still extremely nervous standing in his shadow. You had to tell yourself that you only felt this way because you liked him, and you had to let go of those feelings. “What’s up?” You twiddled your thumbs timidly, eluding the eye contact.

“I wanted to talk to you about earlier. When we chatted… well, I’ve been thinking about it all day. It’s been bothering me! So…” His brow furrowed. It wasn’t often he was speechless. “Uhhh..” he stalled in his deep rumble of a voice. He took a step closer to you, and you took one skittish step back. It felt weird having him in your personal bubble. It bred butterflies in your stomach. You began to shiver. It was partly because of the chill in the evening air, and partly because you dreaded confrontation like this. You feared he would make this more painful and awkward than it already was. Why couldn’t he leave it be? You weren’t his type, you accepted that! You took another self-conscious step back.

“We don’t really need to talk about it. I get how you feel, it’s fi-” a gasp passed through your lips as his massive hand suddenly flew down toward you. You flinched backward just a tad and felt your heel slip off the edge of the bridge. His hand found its desired destination around your waist and he pulled you in snugly to his wide, warm chest.

“W-why did you do that?” You looked up at him, your face pulsating with warmth just underneath the skin. He raised a brow apphrehensively at your reaction.

“You were shaking, so I figured you were cold. Plus, you were about to fall off the bridge. Two birds, one stone! Bet you’re warmin’ up now, huh?” He grinned down at you briefly before the wary expression took over again. “Hey, I know I’m a big dude an’ all, but you don’t need to be afraid of me or anything…” he mumbled and you could feel him speak from your position smashed against his chest. You looked down now, a bit ashamed that you made him feel that way. You didn’t know why he cared what you thought of him, but you could hear the slight hurt in his voice.

“I’m not scared of you, Nekomaru… quite the opposite…”

“Whaddaya mean?” What did he mean what do you mean??? Was he really that clueless? You literally had a whole conversation about this earlier today. Did the meaning of your words fly totally over his head… or were you just not clear enough?

“Nekomaru… I’m not scared I just…” you paused, debating just shutting up then and there, “I just get really nervous around you because… I really like you. Like as more than a friend…”

“You do?” Why did he sound genuinely surprised?

“I told you so earlier…”

“You did?!” He donned a puzzled look, and you looked up at him, incredulous. “No way!”

“I told you how I felt earlier, and you didn’t seem to feel the same so I let it go!”

“See, I told you it’s been bothering me, because I couldn’t for the life of me understand what you were so upset about earlier!” He threw his head back in one of his endearing, hearty laughs. What was that stereotype? Dumb jock?

“I mean, I tried to tell you, without being too forward or blunt. I was afraid you’d reject me…”

“Haha! Next time, why don’t you try to be more straightforward and honest with your feelings? It feels good!” He flexed the arm that held you close, giving you a good squeeze. You felt your cheeks warm up sheepishly.

“Like I said… you make me nervous…” you chuckled diffidently.

“Well, what do you say we try that talk again?” He began to resume the walk across the bridge, with you under his arm. “This time, we both be clear adn honest with each other?” His eyebrow wriggled rather mischeviously. “I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised with the results.”

Twogami / Ultimate Imposter

You’d spent nearly all of what little time you’d been on the island with Byakuya. You were starting to form a little crush on him, and he was rather fond of you as well (not that he’d ever openly admit it) so he allowed it. You of course knew about the Togami family’s power and influence, everyone did, so you found yourself a bit shy around him, but having fun at the same time getting to know him. You were a bit of of a people pleaser, both curious about him and eager to help if he needed it. There were times when you two simply hung out, like two normal people, and sometimes he even seemed to find you as fascinating as you found him. When he found himself asking one too many questions about you, however, he always seemed to reel it in, pulling back like he had some type of wall up.

You were fine with it. You’d just met a few days ago after all, and the friendship… or something more, would form when it formed. You didn’t want to force it. You were already feeling a bit silly and about wanting to connect with the Ultimate Affulent Progeny in the first place. Someone with his wealth and status could probably spend his time with anyone he wanted.

The threat of the start of a potential killing game was putting everyone on edge, even the scion himself, though he carried it better than most. He genuinely looked like someone your class might be able to look to as a leader.

The group had decided to throw a little party later that night, and you offered to help Byakuya tick off and confiscate all weapons or even potential weapons in the old building that would house this party… for some reason. Every loose wooden plank, every butter knife, every pointy object had to go. It felt like he knew something no one else did… but, you happily followed along, helping him with this task. Honestly, though, on the inside, you feared he was being a little too uptight. How would he enjoy the little get together tonight in this state of uneasiness?

In between locking up items he dubbed nefarious and double checking every corner of the building, you two actually got to know each other a little better. After hours of work, he was satisfied. All the while, he seemed to be watching Teruteru and Nagito like a hawk as the two shuffled in and out of the building preparing tonight’s dishes and cleaning respectively. What was Byakuya hiding from you? Why all the suspicion? Did he genuinely think one of your classmates would kill someone tonight? That was just insane to even think about.

Trying to ease his mind, you started up an innocent conversation.

“You shouldn’t worry so much, really! Tonight will be great! I know it. I brought my good luck charm and everything!” Smiling and seeking to distract his tense mind, you brought a little trinket out from your back pocket. In your flattened out hand you displayed a little baby blue pocket knife, barely the size of your palm. “My dad gave it to me when I was really little, and I -”

“What is wrong with you?!” Byakuya’s hand shot out toward you to grab the small blade and you flinched backward, holding your hands up defnesively and dropping it onto the floor in the process. The sudden, angry movement had frightened you, especially coming from a man who knew how to hold an intimidating presence.

The silence then was palpable as it hung in the air, and he, the real him, wanted to apologize, to explain himself and express regret for overreacting. He wanted to say that you’d been a joy to hang out with these past few days and that he’d never raise a hand to you, but Byakuya Togami would never lower himself to say these things… and right now, he was Byakuya Togami. He steeled himself to speak.

“I was merely going to confiscate the blade from you. What a gross overreaction…” He spoke condescendingly. “Do you really think me some animal, some lesser beast who physically assaults people? Don’t insult me so…” He scoffed, plucked the blade from the ground and pocketed it. “I don’t know what kind of men you’ve dealt with, but clearly you’ve been hanging around with the dregs of humanity.” Crossing his arms nonchalantly over his chest, he left you there without another word, satisfied that his facade had remained in tact. Inside, it burned, it hurt to be so cruel to such a sweet person like you. He left to make final preparations for the party tonight and you stayed behind, offering to help Teruteru and Nagito since you were already there. It would take your mind off of the humiliation you just suffered.

~

Early into the next morning, when Monokuma dismissed the survivors of the very first class trial back to their cottages at last, you’d nearly missed it as you crawled onto your bed in a tired, traumatized ball:

A rectangular black box sat on your bedside table. It wasn’t yours, and you were sure your cabin door was locked. How did it even get there?

You opened it cautiously and found the most expensive looking, elegant, and elaborate looking pen in the world within. On one side was the Togami family crest, engraved delicately and masterfully. Tucked under it was a small note. You read it, tears welling up immediately.

A replacement good luck charm - T

Gundham Tanaka

Gundham felt totally secure with you, a feeling he’d never truly felt with anyone else. He’d never state it in plain words, but it was true nonetheless. You’d always been accepting of him and his rather eccentric ways. He didn’t need to feel like an outcast around you. He felt completely seen, understood on a whole new level. He could’ve sworn you cast some sort of spell over him, the way his cheeks and the tips of his ears would feel like they were on fire when you complimented him or held his hand. He nearly burst into flames when you once pecked his cheek with your soft lips after he carried a bunch of stuff back to your cabin for you as a favor.

You two spent nearly every day together. Everyone knew you two were a thing and you didn’t mind the teasing. You had no reason to be ashamed of how you felt about Gundham. He was the kindest soul you’d ever met, it just took a little digging to figure that out. Other than Hajime and Sonia - the only other two who really tried to get to know him - you were the only one who he’d let tend to the Devas. You often held them, fed them, watched them in your cabin when Gundham showered or needed a short break. The hamsters and Gundham himself provided a much needed light for you in the darkness of this killing game. The little things you did with him mattered so much to you. You appreciated every moment when in this place, you could be very much dead the next day. You swam at the pool and went shopping at the supermarket together on the main island, ate at the diner together on the second, hung out at the music venue together on the third, and now, trapped in the funhouse with starvation as the motive, Gundham insisted that you share the sound-proof, luxury room with him.

You’d initially gotten extremely flustered by his request but eventually accepted. Gundham didn’t seem to think twice about it. You supposed he was so naive to romance that he saw nothing wrong with you two sharing a bedroom at all. Maybe he did know, but cared more about your safety than the embarrassment. You knew he’d never do anything without your express permission anyway, so after deliberating, decided it was a non-issue. It was unusual for Monomi not to pop up to protest, however.

~

Days into being trapped in the funhouse, you sat at the small desk in your room feeling like a total asshole. You’d been in an argument with Gundham earlier, one that you’d totally started and knew you were in the wrong for. You rarely ever had a disagreement with him, much less gotten into a full-on fight. It was a bit one-sided however, as you yelled and complained while he just tried to reason with you and ultimately ended up leaving you alone in the room for some space. You regretted it the instant he left, and had made up your mind to apologize the second he returned. You were miserable: starving and dead tired from Monokuma Tai Chi every morning, but that was no excuse for your behavior. Everyone else was hungry and cranky, too, and you’d taken your anger out on Gundham for no reason.

You pulled out the headphones and small MP3 player Hajime gifted you when you hung out a few weeks back and slumped forward on the desk, moping as you put the headphones in and blasted the music as loud as the cheap earbuds would allow. You had to pass the time somehow, and walking around looking for Gundham when he’d eventually come back here to sleep would waste what little energy you had left. There was a small part of your mind that wondered: what if he didn’t come back? Your heart ached. Everyone was starving… someone would have to kill soon to get out of this hopeless situation. You could only hope and pray that the last thing you said to Gundham wouldn’t be that hateful nonsense. You let yourself zone out, head down on the desk and eyes closed lazily. You began to doze off and wouldn’t know how long you were out.

You awoke to the music still blasting in your ears and a tap on your shoulder.

“Hmm?” Groggily you turned to see Gundham behind you. Gripped tightly in his gauze-wrapped hand was a large, sharp knife the length of your forearm. Your eyes widened and you screamed, taken off guard by the frightening sight. “Gundham, please, no!” It was a bit odd that he looked more shocked than you did as you backed away from him, falling off the chair and onto the floor behind it with a thud. Tears began to stream down you face. 

You didn’t think it would end like this, but it was kinda of the perfect location. The room was sound-proof, after all. You just never expected a betrayal this cruel. Maybe you should’ve. After all this time, all of these deaths, it was naive to truly trust anyone on this island. Why did it have to be him though of all people? Maybe he had to do this. After all, the Devas were starving, too, and they meant the world to him. Getting out meant saving them as well.

Tossing the knife onto the bed, he rushed over to you, kneeling to the floor and tearing the earbuds out of your ears.

“What sort of demon has possessed you?!” Confusion coated his visage and the Devas hopped down from their master’s scarf and swarmed you, sensing your distress.

“What do you mean?! You just scared the shit outta me!” Fresh tears sprang forward with your frustration.

“That was never my intention, my beloved…” he shook his head apologetically.

“Well you can’t just pop up out of nowhere with a knife like that, especially in a situation like this! I thought you were about to fucking murder me!” 

“I assumed you knew that I would never do you harm, so I didn’t see an issue with my approach… These other peasants would do well to fear my dark powers, but I thought you knew that my loyalties lie with you, dear one!” He pulled off one of his dramatic gestures. You pulled your knees up into yourself, suddenly feeling very stupid.

He proceeded to explain that while he was gone, he’d decided to take on the Final Dead Room in hopes of finding a route of escape from the funhouse because he couldn’t stand to see you suffer like this for a single day more. Instead, he came upon a cache of weapons of every sort and size, and begged you to keep that fact a secret. Pulling you to your feet, he sat you down on the bed and handed you the knife.

“Since I can not spirit you away from this hell, I have chosen to provide you with the means to defend yourself should I ever fail to. Hide it somewhere that is always accessible to you and no one else. And my darling, I beg of thee,” he pleaded, “cease all usage of that wretched machine!” He pointed to the MP3 player discarded onto the ground. “You must be on your guard at all times in this place, especially if the Devas and I are not there to guard you.” Your bottom lip quivered, heart swelling at his concern for you, even after you screamed at him earlier. You sat the knife down and threw your arms around him, collapsing into his chest. You didn’t deserve him.

“I’m so sorry, Gundham! After I sat here and bitched at you for no reason, you went out and still thought of my safety? I’m so, so sorry!”

“Think nothing of it, dear one…” He mumbled, burying his red face in his scarf.

Teruteru Hanamura

Most of the your other classmates were repulsed or at the very least annoyed by Teruteru’s antics. His behavior: overtly flirty and forward, even to the point of perversion, was a major turn off for most of the people he talked to, but you actually really liked him. You found his one-liners funny, his pick up lines amusing. He was genuinely fun to hang out with, in your opinion. He complimented you a lot, and you would playfully tease and flirt back. He really seemed to enjoy the matching of his energy, and though you’d only known each other for about a week, you spent a lot of time together. He was usually showing you some simple yet delicious recipes and letting you taste test his meals (of course with a lot of innuendos built in) and you would share your interests with him while you cooked together. You noticed, also, that the more time you spent with him, the less time he spent bothering the others. Maybe all he needed was a little positive attention all along.

Tonight, all of your classmates would be attending a party, both to socailize and ensure that nothing could happen because you’d all be in the same place, which would leave too many witnesses, therefore making a killing unlikely. Teruteru of course was excited to do what he did best and provide the meals for the party, but his mood seemed to be like a rollercaster that day. As you spent hours helping him cook, sometimes leaving to take breaks or talk to the others, he seemed to go from flirty to worried, salacious to nervous, confident to angry. His mood seemed to turn foul when Nagito would waltz by the kitchen, passing through as he did his assigned cleaning duties in the party building. You noted this, but it was strange, as you hadn’t known Teruteru to particularly dislike any of your peers… Did he have an issue with Nagito? But Nagito was so chill…

No matter the reason for his mood swings, you took them for what they were and tried to help out by offering an extra hand (which he made a dirty joke about) or changing the subject when he got gloomy. You could only do so much to stabilize his mood, however, and eventually he seemed to just be barking orders or frustrated with you. He was already in a bad mood and you didn’t want to contribute to it. You weren’t a true chef anyway and you were probably just getting in the way, you figured, so you took a big tray of finished dishes and began to make your way out to the dining hall.

Your shoe caught onto a thick chord just outside the kitchen door, just a piece of junk Nagito hadn’t gotten to yet and you tumbled forward, spilling the entire tray onto the floor. You gasped as you hit the floor, your knees stinging with the impact. Teruteru, who witnessed the whole thing, ran over to you with a shriek to make sure you were okay. The melancholy melted away, and checking on you was all that mattered.

“(Y/N)!” Mistaking his tone for anger because of his previously existing foul mood, you were startled by his approach, flinching away, shrinking backwards slightly. You fucked up, you ruined the dishes he spent hours making. He was probably furious with you. He stopped dead in his tracks, shocked by that instinctual response from you. With your reaction, he finally realized how rude he’d been to you all night. It wasn’t your fault Nagito was up to no good, and even knowing what he knew, he shoudn’t have taken his mood out on you. He was pushing away the one person who treated him with such kindness and respect on this island. His mother wouldn’t have been proud of that. “Take my hand.” He extended it to you and helped you to your feet.

“I’m so sorry, Teruteru, your food-!” You began to apologize profusely but he cut you off.

“I can always make more. I enjoy making more. Are you alright? You took quite the spill!” He smiled warmly at you. “I shoudln’t have been so… intense earlier. My apologies.”

“Oh I’m fine! It’s okay. But, about the food… are you sure it’s gonna be okay? Can we really make more in time?” He nodded enthusiastically in response. When you beamed back at him, he felt his inside twist into a knot.

He had to stop Nagito tonight. It was decided. He didn’t know how, or the extent of Nagito’s plans, but he couldn’t let him start the killing game with that knife he’d caught him taping under the the dining hall table earlier that morning.

Because… what if Nagito chose you, as his victim?

[writingtoforgetreality]

Tin Can (Din Djarin x Reader)

Summary: A battle didn't go as planned when someone ran you over with full force. Realizing his mistake, a certain Mandalorian made it his mission to bring you to safety.

Warnings: none, i think (it's been a while since i last tagged my fics), language and humor?

The deafening battle around you restricted your hearing. While you felt your heartbeat thumping in your ears, you couldn't discern anything else. A huge disadvantage during a fight. Your periphery allowed you to notice bodies flying all over the place. It was only a matter of time until they reached you. They? Who were they anyway? At this point, you were completely clueless. Who could you trust and, most importantly, who should you attack?

Natural instinct yelled at you to turn around and so you did. Unfortunately, your reflexes weren't qualified enough to dodge the next blow. And shit, that hurt. Whoever had the brilliant idea to choose you as their next victim sure packed one hell of a punch. For a second, breathing was nearly impossible. Lungs felt as if someone was squeezing them. Your head shook briefly to rid yourself of the sudden dizziness.

One hand lifted itself to your face to shield your eyes from the blasting suns painting the sky. Once the dark spots blurring your vision faded, you could focus again. The figure in front of you received sharp edges and clear lines. You made out who exactly was in front of you. It might not have been your smartest move, yet you couldn't help but scoff.

"Is that all you got, tin can?" you groaned through gritted teeth, brushing off the sand as you got back on your feet.

"I'm a Mandalorian." echoed his deep voice. While his helmet limited your sight of his face, the position of his visor, the slight tilt, betrayed him. Status, you answered in your head, connecting the dots. He wanted you to view him as some higher-up.

You eyed him from head to toe, eyebrows raising in the process. "Well...obviously."

"You aren't scared." though it was a statement rather than a question, you could sense the confusion in between the lines.

"Are you about to kill me?"

"...No?"

"Why should I be scared then?" you left him speechless. A smirk spread over your lips, satisfied to have this effect on him. "Besides..." you paused shortly, redirecting your line of sight. "Somebody traveling with a green little guy doesn't look all too intimidating to me."

"He could easily kill you."

"Hm." you pretended to think really hard. "Guess I'm lucky then, huh?"

"Are you aware of the battle around you or-?" a smile was detectable in his words.

"Oh, very much so. Thanks by the way." you motioned to your side, signaling that he did, in fact, hurt you while running you over.

"You can't just stand in a battlefield."

"Bold of you to assume I was just standing there without doing shit." you mumbled.

A loud explosion to your right gained your attention. Exchanging a quick glance, a silent, unspoken promise was established. Nodding your head, more for yourself than for anyone else, you positioned yourself with your blasters at the ready. It was only then when you scarily concluded that, next to a Mandalorian, you were as good as dead. Hell, you didn't even have a single piece of armor while he was decked with beskar. Whole body protected with the confidence of staying unharmed. Long story short: you were screwed.

Nobody was running towards you so you took the chance to speak up.

"Um? Tin can?"

"What?" he appeared more than pissed at your silly nickname but you had no time to elaborate on that right now. If you survived, he wouldn’t hear the end of it, though. That much you’d make sure of.

"You don't happen to have any more of that armor, do you?"

His shoulders visibly tensed and, as if he hadn't spared a second thought to it before, he faced you with shock. There weren't many options. You could fight and risk your life. Though, risking in that context meant a full-blown suicide mission. You could use the Mandalorian as a shield. Or...you could run. As much as you despised the latter, it seemed like the most logical choice. A modulated voice from your left halted your inner turmoil.

"Follow me." it wasn't a question. Not a suggestion, either. It was a demand. And though you did find humor in this situation, you were the first one to admit that you were scared. Terrified, even.

He sprinted off, making sure to cast one last glance over his shoulder, silently signaling to you to follow his footsteps. You didn't need to be told twice. Trailing close behind the dents his heavy boots left in the sand, you eventually reached a spaceship. His, you figured. The model wasn't the newest or most progressive one you had seen but it was better than nothing. Thick metal doors unsealed in front of you and allowed you a first glimpse inside. Quickly, you walked up the ramp into what you hoped to be a safe place. At least for the time being. Only when the doors shifted and locked themselves could you relax and breathe freely again.

You were about to start a mundane conversation to dissolve the tension but before you had the chance to utter the first word, your knees buckled and you fell to the floor ungracefully. A sharp hiss left your tight lips. It was enough for the Mandalorian to focus solely on your hunched figure. He didn't quite know what to do or how to handle the situation. Awkwardly he got to a kneeling position and extended his hands, without having the intention to actually touch you.

"I'm fine." you breathed out, shutting your eyes.

"Mhm." his acknowledgment sounded funny through the barricade of his helmet. Maybe you were turning insane. Or maybe, and that was more plausible, you were simply close to falling unconscious. Apparently, the pain was worse than you had originally thought.

"Hey." it was his voice again, cutting through the white noise buzzing around you. Your eyes snapped open, shaken out of your reverie. "There you are." he mumbled and were it not for your surroundings to be eerily quiet, you'd have missed it.

Swimming the fine line between passing out and staying awake, you barely perceived his skilled glove-covered hands working on your injury. No internal bleedings and no fractioned ribs. Though they were badly bruised and sprained. Time was what you needed now. There was no way you were able to waltz out of his ship without any problems. Not for a few weeks. The Mandalorian, after carefully carrying you to his usual sleeping place, released a long, exhausted sigh. Making sure that you were out cold, he stripped his helmet over his head. He placed it on the small table next to him. His hands ruffled through his hair, going through every possibility. Sure, he could bring you somewhere safe, somewhere you could rest before heading out into the vast galaxy again. At the same time, there was guilt sitting in the pit of his stomach. Were it not for him attacking you, which was uncalled for he now realized, you wouldn’t have been injured in the first place. To make things even, he planned on keeping you around for a while longer. Just until you were fully healed again.

Whining sounds ripped you from your dreamless sleep. The first sensation you were aware of was the throbbing in your side. Slowly, bits and pieces of the day before returned to you. Blinking away the tiredness, you took in the room you were occupying. Still the ship the Mandalorian offered for your safety. Rolling your head to your side, too afraid to worsen the pain if you moved too much, you released a surprised gasp. The little green guy from yesterday, you noted. He couldn’t actually kill you, right? That statement was merely a joke…right?

“Oh, good. You’re awake.” the now familiar modulated voice redirected your attention. Wearing that much armor all day long must be tiring.

“Thank you.” you choked out, realizing that your throat was uncomfortably dry. The man hovering above you silently dismissed you. “No. I mean it. Thank you.”

“For what?” a pained chuckle could be heard. “Hurting you?"

“Well.” slow movements brought you to a sitting position. But not without a few moans of displeasure. “There was a battle going on. It was hard to figure out who was on which side. I’d have attacked you too if I were to see you first.”

“Yeah?” you could practically see his raised eyebrows and the features of disbelief under the helmet.

“No.” you admitted right away. “I’d have turned around to run away. You really think I’d fight against all of…this?” arms flailed around you, motioning to the man who stopped whatever he was doing to focus on the conversation at hand.

“I don’t know. I’m still trying to figure out how smart you actually are.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” you didn’t even try to hide how offended you were.

“You were in the middle of a battlefield.” he pointed out, leaning his body against a nearby wall, arms crossing over his chest. “Without any form of protection.”

“I had m-“ your weak attempt got cut off by his much stronger voice.

“Don’t say you had your blasters with you. These things?” long strides made their way over to where he positioned all your stuff the previous night. He picked one of your weapons up, turning it around in his hands before putting it back to its previous place. “The fact that they’re even called blasters-“

“Excuse me, I’m not a Mandalorian. I don’t have the credits to buy fancy weapons or armor.”

“That has nothing to do with being a Mandalorian.” he cleared up, thinking you cared for whatever reason he was about to present to you.

“Who cares?” strangely, you felt the need to defend yourself in front of him. Like you had to come up with excuses why you didn’t own everything that was part of his day to day life. “Whatever…Thanks again for letting me stay. I’ll be on my way.”

“Oh no. You can’t.” his words stopped you in your tracks. Raised eyebrows showed that you were awaiting an explanation. “Your ribs are sprained. You haven’t seen the bruises yet. They’ll get worse in the next few days. You should stay until you’re healed.”

“No.” there was no way you would stay here with a stranger. It wasn’t like the circumstances of your meeting were overly pleasant. “I’ll be fine. I’ve dealt with worse.”

Not sure how to reply, the Mandalorian simply watched as you tried to stand up with your own strength. He expected you to be in more pain than yesterday. That was the way of those injuries. They didn’t just vanish after some hours. No matter how you tended to them. Feeling his eyes, well…his visor, on you, your head snapped up. If looks could kill, he’d have turned to ashes right here.

“Come on. Say it.” you urged while rolling your eyes.

“Just stay here until you’re no longer in pain.”

“How am I supposed to trust you, huh?” your head tilted to one side in contemplation. “You were the one who hurt me, after all.”

“Five minutes ago, you said I couldn’t have known who the enemy was.”

“Five minutes ago, I didn’t know that I didn’t like you.” it was childish bickering, you were aware. But the frustration cursing through your body got the best of you and you couldn’t swallow down your emotions.

“You don’t have to like me.” the Mandalorian started. “The second you feel better, I’ll bring you back there. Or wherever you want to go.”

“Hm.” considering his offer, you ultimately agreed on it. Still, you would stay cautious. “Deal. Just one more question.”

“Go for it.”

“Tame your green child. I don’t wanna have it wake me up.”

“I can do that.” an unfamiliar noise reached your ears. He was laughing. “Anything else?”

“I’m (Y/N).” it dawned on you that you hadn’t introduced yourself properly.

“Alright, (Y/N).” he tested how your name rolled off his tongue. He’d have lied if he said he didn’t enjoy the sound of it. “Yell if you need anything. I’ll be in the cockpit.”

“Wait!” you yelled after him before his figure could vanish behind a corner. Turning around yet again, he came to a halt, his body language giving nothing away. “You didn’t tell me your name.”

“Um.” there was an inner argument going on, you could tell. “Just Mando is fine.”

“Mando?” now it was your turn to try his name. “You know what? I prefer tin can.”

“Whatever.” his eyes rolled in the back of his skull and you couldn’t see it but you could picture it.

A small smile made its way onto your face. Maybe it won’t be too bad to stay here for a while.

~cathy <3

[liturgusakrattorum]

FINALLY after spending three days on it it’s done. here’s a runes oneshot that ended up being a hell of a lot longer than i intended for it to be LOL

Quick context! By this point in the AU, the crew will have gathered a good amount of Runes on their own and have run into Paisley and Corvus a few times in the past. After their latest adventure having narrowly escaped another Pave Nature dig site, the gang gets caught off-guard by both CEOs giving chase in the sky.

Hope you enjoy it! :D

- - -

Crash Landing

The ship lurches and tosses nearly half the crew off their feet. All eyes shoot to the rafters as the sound of groaning metal shudders through the Tortuga’s frame.

“What was THAT?!” Martin sputters, brushing off the box of screws that had spilled onto his lap.

Chris wastes no time scrambling to his feet. His eyes are as wide as dinner plates, gaze darting around the room like a madman. He peers through the skylight at the top of the dome-shaped structure to catch a glimpse of a sleek, black and purple jet whizzing past.

His frantic search suddenly halts. “AtroCorp,” he hisses. “I think they found us.”

“Here?!” Koki does a double-take as she helps Aviva up from the floor. “I thought we lost ‘em!”

“Clearly not – we gotta move. Jimmy!” Chris tilts his head up as if to throw his voice a little farther, making a sprint for the cockpit. “Jimmy, are you okay?!”

Chris’s heart nearly misses a beat as a faint groan replies through the door. He grabs the handle and flings it open, a sigh of relief escaping him as he’s greeted by a dazed Jimmy crawling back into the pilot’s seat.

“I’m good,” replies the redhead, grumbling to himself as he sweeps his arm across the control panel to knock off the excess clutter. “Freakin’ blast spilled ramen all over my shirt. What even was that?”

“AtroCorp. I think they’re trying to shoot us down.”

“WHAT?!”

“Just get us outta here!”

No other words need to be exchanged between the two. Immediately, Jimmy’s attention is pulled away from Chris and absorbed completely into his post. He snatches his controller, mashing a few buttons on the Tortuga’s piloting system before shoving the joystick full speed ahead. Chris pushes away from the cockpit door and rushes back to the main room.

It’s all hands on deck. Koki and Aviva each man a computer, typing furiously as they set themselves up within the Tortuga’s defense systems (whatever little it has – this is a research vessel, not a warship). Chris nearly falls over again trying to dodge the office chairs rolling by, both of which sit abandoned by the women usually occupying them.

Up ahead, Martin bursts back into the room, one Creature Power Suit donned and the other tucked beneath his arm. He wordlessly tosses the extra equipment to his brother, and Chris fumbles into the vest just as the rising whine of the Tortuga engines echo through the hull.

“We gotta get ‘em off our tail,” Martin says, clenching and unclenching his fist as the Power Suit glove settles over his skin. “Can you fly us over to their ship?  Maybe we can cut off one of their engines or something.”

“With the Power Suits?” Chris raises an eyebrow. “We’ve barely tested these things!”

“You got any better ideas?”

Chris pauses, then shakes his head. He’s right; it’s better than nothing.

Martin springs on his heel and barrels out the door, prompting Chris to follow close behind him. The echoes of their hurried footfalls patter down the corridor, mingling with the increasing chaos developing outside. The two brothers emerge into the loading bay as the Tortuga’s engines rev to life.

“Here,” Martin tosses one of the Runes in his arms to Chris. He turns back around toward the far wall, slamming his now-free hand against the airlock release. The door clicks open with a loud hiss, and suddenly the world outside crashes into the room. The elder brother tightens his grip around the airlock handle, wincing away from the wind roaring through the loading bay.

Another explosion. Martin stumbles and throws his other hand forward, crashing into the wall as the Tortuga shudders under the impact. He grits his teeth as his ribs slam directly into the handle.

“Shit– Chris, you good?” Martin shakes off his stunned daze and turns back up to Chris, but the loading bay is empty. “...Chris?”

His heart digs into his stomach. Gripping onto the wall, he leans out the door and confirms his fear.

His little brother is falling.

“CHRIS!”

About fifty feet below, Chris is plummeting from the two airships racing by. His ears scream with the wind tearing past him, the world blending into a barrage of color as he claws at the air in an attempt to steady himself. If a scream escapes him, he can’t hear it; the adrenaline coursing through his veins has tuned out everything beyond the dangerously urgent need to stop his fall. There has to be something, anything –

There. About ten feet away and steadily drifting farther, the bright green flash of the Peregrine Rune catches his eye. From this height, he’s probably got about ten seconds before he reaches too close to the ground to do much beyond bracing for impact.

His eyes flick to the Tortuga, now quickly becoming a turquoise spot in the sky. He’s willing to take the shot.

Chris takes a shaky breath and twists himself until he’s horizontal, nearly overextending his arm until his fingertips just barely brush against the Rune. He swipes at it a few times before managing to gain purchase on the stone, grasping it in his hand before slamming it into the loading slot on his chest piece.

He squeezes his eyes shut, hand clenched against the vest. “Please work,” he whispers. Part of him wonders if the man upstairs is listening. “Please work, please work, please work.”

Silence.

Nothing.

…Then–

A flash. Bright green light shimmers from the heart of the Power Suit. The wind tearing through Chris’s senses is drowned out by the growing hum of the Rune gathering its power. Limb by limb, the light envelops his body, morphing his very form until his legs become talons, his arms become feathers, his stinging eyes become shielded by the visor of a completed suit. The moment the opportunity hits, Chris spreads his newfound wings and soars. As he closes back in on the Tortuga loading bay, he can just hear his older brother laugh in terrified relief.

Chris tucks his wings and lands roughly back inside. He tumbles and crashes into the far wall, gasping to catch his breath as the wind nearly knocks out of him.

“YES!!” Martin cheers. He rushes to meet Chris, scooping up his brother in a jubilant hug. “YES! I KNEW it would work!”

Despite the admittedly terrifying near-death experience just now, Chris can’t help but smile, too. Martin’s excitement is contagious. 

“...Holy crap,” Chris breathes. “Holy shit, I can’t believe I just did that.”

Martin beams proudly, breaking from the hug and shaking Chris’s shoulders. “YOU DID THAT!”

“I DID THAT!”

But their celebration is cut short. Another explosion rocks the loading bay, this time much louder than the ones they’d heard previously. Both brothers instinctively duck out of the way, peering over their shielding arms to see a massive grappling hook stabbing straight through the Tortuga’s rear engine.

Martin grits his teeth. “Shit. We gotta work fast.”

Chris is already ahead of him. Spreading his wings again, he dives back out the door and swoops straight towards the AtroCorp jet. Martin takes this as his cue to load his own Rune – the Spider Monkey – and join him outside.

He skids to a halt just before the loading bay door. No response from the Suit. He grumbles to himself, pressing the chest piece’s loading slot a few times before it sputters to life and transforms.

The moment he’s able, Martin leaps into action. He swings himself around the door until he finds a grip along the outside wall of the Tortuga. His elongated limbs propel him across the side of the airship, stopping every so often to dodge out of the way of the scrap metal tearing off the point of impact.

Eventually, he reaches the broken engine. AtroCorp’s grappling hook digs deep into the side of the hull, charred metal sitting exposed like a nasty gash tearing into the ship. Smoke is already beginning to billow out of the impact point. Martin coughs and waves the blackened air away to inspect the damage. Hesitantly, he reaches out a leg to kick at the hook, hoping to dislodge it from the side of the ship. Nothing. The hook sits unmoving, creaking against the burning engine beneath it.

“Figures,”  Martin huffs. Time for Plan B.

Shifting his weight, he peers up at the other end of the hook connected to the opposing airship. He leaps up, barely landing a grip on the attachment chain before swinging himself upright to perch upon the black metal device. If he can’t kick the hook off, he might as well try disconnecting it from the jet trying to bring them down.

Guess this’d be a lot easier if I had tools, Martin curses to himself. I’ll just have to brute force it.

“MK!” The Creature Pod around Martin’s wrist crackles to life, the sound of Aviva’s voice barely registering above the roar of the fiery engine. “What’s going on? Where are you guys?”

Martin squints through the smoke, his hands busy with undoing the grappling hook chain. “Back left engine’s hit,” he shouts back. “I don’t know how bad the damage is, I can barely see out here.”

“What about Chris?”

“AtroCorp jet. We gotta get this thing off of us.”

“Dios mio– get back in here, both of you! It’s too dangerous to be out there right now!”

Martin purses his lips. Typical of Chris and himself to ignore her voice of reason. His hands yank at the massive chain links, trying to find a weak point to set it free – but like the hook it’s attached to, the heavy steel refuses to move.

“Just give us a minute, Aviva,” he begins to retort, “I just gotta–”

There’s no time to react.

Another loud CRASH catches Martin completely off-guard, nearly causing him to fall off the ship himself. Clinging to the massive chain, he braces himself against the blast of hot air that rushes from another fiery explosion. He looks up, eyes darting frantically around the back of the ship to inspect the damage. On the far side of the Tortuga, another hook sits lodged into its second engine.

“Right,” he corrects himself, “inside. Got it. On my way.”

Before Martin can move to return to the loading bay, however, his path is cut short by the sudden lurch of the Tortuga. His arms instinctively cling to the grappling hook chain, trying his hardest not to get flung off from the force of the sudden change in motion. The ship wavers, both of its engines sputtering under the damage they’ve sustained. Martin swings himself back across the way he came, stumbling into the loading bay before the ride gets too bumpy.

As he turns his heel to return to the hub, he freezes a moment. Chris. He’s still outside – surely he heard Aviva’s call, right?

But the Tortuga shudders again. All around him, the sounds of groaning metal and the ship’s power systems struggling to maintain themselves call for him to turn his attention to more pressing matters. Martin steals an uneasy glance at the engine closest to the loading bay door, its power weakening with every shift of the airship’s trajectory.

The near engine flashes in a brilliant inferno. The Tortuga rattles under the sudden impact, the lights flicker – and then it ceases. If it weren’t for the open door, the whole loading bay would be flooded in darkness. Through the bright light outside, Martin can just see the forest below slowly begin to tilt into an increasingly steeper angle. His body stands frozen for a beat – then the realization hits.

We’re going down.

Before he can debate waiting for his brother any further, his limbs are already sending him flying back down the hall.  Martin struggles to slide the door to the main hub open, barrelling through the moment he’s able. The blaring alarm of the electrical system’s warning notifications screams back at him, every emergency light in the room flashing a worrying red.

His eyes scan the room. Aviva and Koki are just ahead. Chris is still outside – if anyone’ll escape this without a scratch, it’ll be him. He won’t have enough time to reach Jimmy. God, he hopes the cockpit safety systems are working.

Get moving.

“Hang on tight!” is all he can muster out of himself. Heart hammering and mind acting on pure instinct, he lunges forward and makes a break for his friends manning the computer systems. One arm scoops up Koki, the other tosses Aviva over his shoulder.

A heartbeat – he’s on the other end of the room. His tail wraps around one of the supply bags and slips it between the three of them and the wall. Wrapping his arms around the girls, he hunches over and braces himself for impact.

Another heartbeat – Chris is rolling away from the AtroCorp jet as it takes a sudden dive. He shakes off its turbulence and sets himself upright again, only to see the reason for the jet’s change of course. The younger brother watches as the Tortuga crashes into the forest below, foliage and metal debris alike spiraling into the air through plumes of fire and dust and smoke.

The sounds of crashing and rumbling tumble over one another and dissipate across the forest. The black and purple jet disappears into the cloud of dust, and Chris is alone in the air. Without a word, he divebombs after the jet, squinting through the smoke as his world quickly darkens around him.

He coughs, landing roughly on his feet and kicking up loose topsoil. The neon green light of his Power Suit cuts clear like a blade through the thick air around him, his form returning to his human state as the Rune powers down. AtroCorp’s still nearby, but stealth be damned – his friends were in that crash! Immediately, he takes off running towards the looming shadow of a destroyed Tortuga.

Chris feels along the side of the singed metal shell until his fingers curl around the edge of the loading bay opening. Unlatching his Creature Pod from his wrist, he holds it into the air and lights his way in, clambering through foliage and still-glowing shrapnel. Sparks from once-functional ceiling lights spit at him erratically as he jogs through the Tortuga’s halls, eventually arriving at the hub room door. He shimmies his hands between the opening that separates the sliding doors, gathering his strength and pulling them open just enough to squeeze through.

The hub is silent. Only the Creature Pod light cleaves through the dust kicked up inside the dome-like space, casting a dim glow upon shattered computer screens, glass shards, and equipment spilled absolutely everywhere.

“Guys…?” Chris has to force his voice to work beyond a whisper. “Are you here?”

For a beat, the Tortuga’s hub remains entirely motionless. He holds his breath, anticipating a response and forcing the fear of the worst out of his mind.

…And then, a change. The sound of disturbed debris shuffles through the room, a quiet seething groan echoing from the other end. Chris releases his breath in a wave of relief and rushes to the source of the sound.

Along the far wall, dust and broken equipment rustle and shift, until the pile of debris rolls aside to reveal a familiar flash of black, white, and blue. Martin – now deactivated and returned to his human state himself – shrugs off the dirt and raises himself to full posture, releasing the shielding embrace he had held Aviva and Koki in. Both girls emerge from in front of him, shaken up with some cuts and bruises but otherwise unharmed.

Chris skids to a halt and drops to his knees to meet them. “Oh, thank god! Is everyone okay?”

“We’re fine,” Aviva says, brushing herself off. “...Where’s Jimmy?”

“Ugh…here,” a raspy cough rings from the cockpit doorway. Chris glances up to see the pilot hobbling out into the hub, hair completely disheveled and cap nowhere to be found. “I think I–” – Jimmy trips, barely catching himself along the wall – “–ssk, yeah. That’s a fucked up ankle.”

Before Jimmy can push himself any farther, Chris is already at his side. The redhead hisses in discomfort as his friend places his arm over his shoulders, trying his best to help Jimmy keep the weight off his injured leg. The two of them hobble to the center of the room to regroup with the others.

Koki plops onto the center control panel, eyes shifting across the room to take in the reality of the past five minutes. “The Tortuga…” she whispers in hollow disbelief.

“...Can be fixed up later,” Martin finishes her thought, shaking his head. “We’re all still in one piece, right? That’s all that matters right now.”

“Hey, that– that jet’s still out there, right?” Jimmy interjects, “Where’d those guys go?”

“Right behind you.”

The crew nearly jumps at the unexpected voice interjecting behind them. A loud CLICK rings through the hub as a floodlight suddenly slices through the inky darkness of the crash site, beaming down on the five individuals huddled around each other. The faint silhouettes of two suited figures – one considerably shorter than the other – looms over them, flanked by several, more animalistic shadows standing at attention. The taller figure steps forward, his glasses glinting  in the floodlight as the form of Corvus Castellanos emerges from the darkness.

“Well, hello, Tortuga Crew,” he chuckles, casually dusting the dirt off his jacket. “It’s about time we finally caught up with one another.”

[tteokdoroki]

countdown | k.bakugou + e.kirishima.

♡ pairing: katsuki bakugou, eijirou kirishima  x fem!reader.

♡ word count: 6.1K

♡ rating: mature, 18+, mdni.

♡ genre: college!au, fluff + smut.

♡ summary: with the new year finally approching, your boyfriends figure out the perfect way to start the countdown.

♡ warning(s): please read ! heavy smut, pwp ( characters aged up to twenties ), drinking, mentions of alcohol, poly!kiribaku, unprotected sex ( wrap it before you tap it y’all ), oral sex ( female recieving ), fingering, choking, dumbification, degredation, double penetration, daddy!kink, master!kink, creampie, cumplay. guys it’s a lot idk what to tell you brrrrr. 

♡ author’s note(s):  um this is like 8 days late but happy new years y’all, first fic of 2021 and it is a Wild one !! this kinda goes with along with my christmas deku fic, you don’t have to read it but it gives some context!! thank for all your love and support, stay safe babies <33

♡ masterlist | requests

“don’t look so nervous, shitty girl.”

your gaze flicks up  and to the left of the rim of your tainted red solo cup, a pretty mauve stain coating the outer edge.  you can see bakugou moving in your peripheral vision, slender body resting against the counter in the kitchen you’ve hidden yourself away in— outside a new years party bustles away, so full of life that you’ve struggled to become a part of.  it was supposed to be a small gathering, a few of your boyfriends’ mates were getting together to see off the awful year after finals and tears and mishaps.

you were excited, you’d spent some time with the group before and were stoked to get to know them a bit better— but the idea had quickly been scrapped when kirishima’s roommate turned the tiny event into a full blown goodbye bash. so now your social anxiety was through the roof and you could hardly think about enjoying yourself.

downing the rest of your... well whatever the hell it is...you shift to face the blonde with a slight scowl.  “i’m not nervous, katsuki.” you half growl in an attempt to keep the explosive blonde away, but crimson eyes with mischievously sparkling irises only roll once, your lover can read you like an open book— and for that you hate him... but only just.

“yeah?” katsuki hums, turning to corner you against the worktop. forgoing your empty cup, your free hands instantly settle themselves on your boyfriend’s hips— the material of his black skinny jeans rough against your palms, sneakily to thread fingers through his belt loops to tug him closer and barely feel flustered by the half lidded gaze bakugou gives you. “if you’re not s’nervous, then why the fuck are you hidden away in here?”

it’s your turn to send your eyes rolling, to which katsuki catches and gives you a gentle nip to the cheek. “i’m not hiding either, i came in here to get a drink for kiri— hey! don’t look at me like that.” the rest of your words fall flat in a whine you don’t mean to set free, bakugou grinning like a maniac above you. his eyes sparkle at the hint of your lie as if he can see right through you, which again... you hate. out of the two of your boyfriends; the blonde was able to pick up on your behaviours slightly faster than kirishima— you put it down the quick reflexes and his complex for wanting to be first at everything but that didn’t make him any less annoying.

in response, bakugou bites down a little harder on your fleshy cheek, pulling you closer by the waist so that your legs wrap around him from over the counter. “a drink that kiri already has, baby? stop lyin’, you loser,” he mumbles into your skin, making you huff. “talk to me.”

“fuck you, but fine...” whining again and with a slight buzz of alcohol to your veins you tilt your head before bakugou can affectionately chomp onto your cheek again and attempt to steal a small peck from him. your love only denies you of this pleasure, at least until you tell him the truth. “okay, okay. i’m in here hiding ‘cause there’s too many people and i’m afraid i’ll be too nervous to talk to your friends.”

“‘m feeling burnt out katsu, there’s so many more people here than i expected and i’m worried that your friends might not like me s’much anymore...”

bakugou smirks, running his tongue over the top row of his pearly whites and you cross your arms in defeat.  “you’re so fuckin’ stupid, yn.”

“fuck you! right up your stupid little ass—“

your blonde boyfriend raises a brow which silences you quickly and makes you wriggle in annoyance. “you’re stupid ‘cause our friends aren’t gonna stop liking you for gettin’ shy— there’s a lotta people out there that aren’t exactly kiri or i.” you perk up at the mention of your latter partner which makes katsuki smile and release you. “just relax. they love you, we love you...let’s just say goodbye to this fuckin’ shitty year, okay?”

you nod and watch as the male moves away from you to fix you both another set of drinks while you adjust yourself to go back into the outside world. the kitchen stays quiet compared to the bass blasted music that echoes throughout the dorm halls, giving you time to grasp at feelings of anxiety and attempt to soothe them— you promise yourself to leave all of the negative feelings behind and focus on making happy memories with your friends. bakugou breaks you from your thoughts and hands you another cup filled with a drink you recognise to be your favourite, he doesn’t speak however and leans back against the worktop to drink his own beverage.

you’ve always liked that he gives you room to think and make a note to show your appreciation later on. your boy’s love language was always through actions and hardly ever words.

but your bubble of sweet silence is soon burst when one of your partner’s friends darts into the kitchen, a look of excitement dancing brightly across pink lined features. her amber eyes land  on you first and swiftly find bakugou after causing a smile to break out against her features. “ohmygod finally, i was wondering where you guys got to! come on, the countdown’s about to start!” you quickly place her name to be mina, remembering her voice from the last time you’d met and offer her a sweet smile in return as her hand reaches out for yours. you take it.

bakugou tsks; clearly irritated but pushes himself off of the counter and follows behind you motherless, mina dragging you in the direction of the living room. somehow she effortlessly weaves you through sweaty bodies of students from the floors below and practically tosses you to the sharks that can be named as your boyfriends’ pals. luckily, your katsuki is right behind you to steady your hips while mina flops onto a couch with the others.

“there they are! two thirds of our favourite lovebirds...” someone to the right of you speaks up; you recognise her to be the roommate you’d walked in on when visiting bakugou’s place before christmas and relax a little. the girl was nice, affectionate and ever so sweet with you the first time you’d met. she curls up in the lap of another guy with green chair, who you presume is the ‘shitku’ or ‘deku’ your lovers had told you about, respectively.

speaking of, katsuki makes himself comfortable next to kirishima on his old loveseat from your hometown— you’d played rock paper scissors with him to keep it, but lost. you couldn’t complain though, the red heard rewarding you with a flurry of kisses in place of the old battered chair.

but with no room and the gang already taking up most of the couch, eijirou pulls you to sit on his thighs and wraps his arms around your middle before pressing a kiss atop your head. “missed you, where’d you go?” he pouts into your neck and fiddles with the frayed ends of your skirt, his free hand grasping at the drink he had.

“i was—“

“she was hidin’ in the kitchen; pretending to fix somethin’.” katsuki cuts you off, earning himself a glare from you and amused chuckles from others ( having pulled their attention away from the countdown on the television ). he attempts to snuggle closer to you both afterwards, making your red headed boy kiss his cheek. you could tell that your explosive boyfriend was feeling a little left out, he’d always doubted himself in the relationship the three of you had ever since he’d found out kirishima had you; his lover back in his hometown,  before college. but you’d loved kiri and couldn’t make him choose between the two people he needed most in his life, so despite the tears and drama...you’d learned to love bakugou as well.

you reach over to squeeze his hand but don’t miss the twitch of his lips into a smile while he watches the live countdown on tv.

kaminari; the blonde who sits at your feet pipes up next— cheeks red from the alcohol he nurses. “why were you hiding, doll?” he hiccups, earning himself a kick to he back from both bakugou and kirishima. “ouchies...”

“she probably wanted to get away from your annoying ass...” sero quips from across the group, where mina lazily toys with his jet black hair; causing bakugou’s roommate to snort and spew her drink in izuku’s face. as far as you were aware, the pair were living together in their apartment off campus and weren’t dating, but might as well have been. katsuki had told you sero was a coward but seeing them now made you think it was cute.

“fuck you, that’s mean!”

“ah, but kaminari my dear friend, it is true...”

a boy with dual eyes chuckles, himself and another figure join the latter male on the ground, hair ruffled and clothes clearly out of place. the girl blinks up at you with a sweet grin before turning to chat with the other girls while eiji fist bumps the male. you remember them as momo and todoroki respectively. bakugou’s roommate checks her watch quickly, a faux frown playing at her lips. “and you guys are done with fourty minutes to spare before new years , a new record...quite frankly, i’m impressed!”

it’s your turn to frown as the newbies blush and attempt to hide their faces. the rest of the group seem amused, sero and denki smirking between themselves, your boyfriends and izuku hiding embarrassed faces while the girls giggle and tease. you can’t help the next words.

“what were they doing?” you whisper innocently and mostly to yourself, unable to focus on the feeling of katsuki pressing kisses to your linked hands to avoid adding to the conversation. however; all eyes teeter over to you, making you freeze up and shuffle nervously in kirishima’s lap.

“fucking in the closet by the front door, they do it every year.” mina teases, causing your face to heat up while momo swats at the pink girl. “nasty right, yn?”

“quit it mina, you’re making her shy!”

you swallow hard and nod shakily, and swear you can almost feel the quiet groan that erupts from katsuki’s chest. “right...”

the group is clearly a little tipsy and you’re not quite drunk enough to feel eat ease with the antics of your lovers’ friends; but one thing lead to another and the topic of conversation lands on you. “maybe yn will get a little new years treat too—“ midoriya slurs somewhere off, by now he and his girlfriend alone have downed a bottle of vodka and cutely make out from time to time. and yet, your boyfriends both have different ideas, the hot headed blonde preparing to launch himself at izuku while the manly red head blushes a shade so deep it could rival his dyed hair.

“what’d you say, shitty nerd?”

it all happens way too fast and you can barely register bakugou’s sudden movement before it’s too late— his elbow jolts as he attempts to kill his best friend’s lover, resulting in eijirou’s drink being knocked clean out of his hand and all over your cute little shirt. you squeal and shudder as the cold liquid seeps right through the thin material, exposing your chest to partygoers and friends alike who cheer as the countdown locks onto thirty minutes until the new year.

kirishima jumps up right after you, shielding your exposed chest from his friends ( mostly denki ) who refuse to look away and leads you up to his room to change while bakugou barks out expletives at deku.

after all it was his fault that your cute tits were out on new years eve.

“what if she’s mad at us kiri? she was already feeling anxious about being here tonight and now—“

“she won’t bakubabe, she loves us and she’ll know it was just an accident, you were defending her honour after all...”

you choose this moment to push open the bathroom door of kirishima’s en-suite, having wiped away most of the beverage that had made your tummy sticky. luckily your skirt had survived his awful choice of rum and cola but at least you smelled nice. two sets of red eyes cast their gaze upon your form, naked apart from the cute pink bra that cups your breasts and tiny skater skirt that sits above your plush thighs.

the boys can already feel their mouths drying at the sight of you have exposed under the yellowing light of kirishima’s dorm room. your skin still shines with the reminders of alcohol as you make your way over to them on the bed, sitting between them with the aforementioned red head’s shirt in your hands.

instantly they shift closer towards you, absorbing your warmth as their fingertips graze your skin. “i told you guys i was fine, i know it was an accident.” you murmur softly, taking both of their hands into yours. “besides, i needed to get out of there for a bit, your friends are—“

“loud?” kirishima offers, kissing your knuckles.

“annoying?” this time it’s bakugou who speaks, shoving his face into your neck to hide from you, still apologetic. his soft blonde hair tickles your neck and you can’t help but giggle gently into the air. “you liked that.”

shaking your head, you pinch at his side and tug eijirou close enough for him to lean his head atop yours. “—they’re a lot, a lot to handle... i just need a little time to calm down before we head back out there.” briefly letting go of your boyfriends’ hands, you reach for the red band t-shirt sitting in your lap in order to shrug it on, but your red headed lover quickly stops you.

“i could think of a few ways to calm you down angel,” he mumbles lowly, so much so that you feel the sound ripple in kirishima’s chest but you’re too distracted by the sudden feeling of katsuki sucking gentle marks into the column of your throat. “we still have a bit of time before we hit midnight on the countdown, right bakugou?”

the hot headed boy only looks up briefly from your bruised and bitten skin, a devilish smirk crossing his lips while the boys work together to push you back onto the sheets. “damn right ei, say we got about twenty minutes to take her mind off things,” your body tingles at the way the talk about you as if you’re not even there, heat beginning to brew in the pits of your tummy. “so, keep the shirt off, won’t you baby?”

you release the offending material as if it’s burnt your palms, thighs spreading instinctively as kirishima’s hand wanders between them to smooth your soft flesh. “yes..., yes katsuki...”

“that’s not what we say, is it babe?” kiri scolds, slapping your inner thigh while bakugou leaves a trail of sloppy kisses that stop just atop your breasts.

“...i mean...yes, sir.”

“atta fuckin’ girl.”

your breath hitches at the feeling of katsuki’s finger tips wrapping around the base of your throat, his touch is delicate and compares starkly with the roughness of his skin— calloused from hard work and use of his quirk. eyes roll to the back of your head at that very thought, the idea that your lover could hurt you in the most delicious of ways using his explosive nature but you have little time to dwell on the fantasy as your other boyfriend moved to hover above your face, ruby red hair tickling at your forehead while he slots his lips against your parted ones.

kirishima’s lips are soft and bitter with the taste of rum clinging to every ridge and imperfection in the skin there so you reach up and weave your fingers through dyed locks in order to bring him closer. meanwhile, bakugou makes quick work of your laced bra— tearing it down to expose your nipples to the cool air they harden under. his hot mouth encapsulates the bud, rolling it between rows of sharp edged teeth in away that has your back arching for more. the blonde ravishes your chest teeth and tongue, while his freehand works on groping your other breast— both of the fleshy mounds being shown equal amounts of attention in different ways, making you whimper wetly against kiri’s mouth.

saliva pools on your tongue, collecting between you and your lover while his own explores the cavern of your hot mouth. the pair of you watch one another with hooded eyes as kirishima pulls away, nothing but a string on your drool connecting you. you swear that every nerve in your body lights up at once just at the sight. “katsuki, you should see yn’s little face right now,” he breathes weightily against your raw lips, hand coming up the squish your cheeks together almost painfully. “we’ve barley even touched her and she’s already looking so fucking fucked out.”

“eiji...sir, please...” you gargle at the mocking lilt to kirishima’s voice and let your hand slip from his hair to cup his wrist as he pinches at your cheeks once more.

but this time, katsuki is the one who speaks to you— vermillion eyes clouded with dark lust when he looks up at you. he’d long moved past his brutal assault on your chest, already leaving a mass of sloppy kisses and bite marks down your abdomen until now, where his head was buried right underneath your little skirt. “the fuck you begging for, slut?” the blonde sneers at you so harshly that pathetic tears begin to pool in your eyes. eijirou is quick to wipe them away before they can hit your heated cheeks but you can tell from the look on his face he’s even more turned on by the sight. “well? i asked you a question.”

“she’s crying, katsuki.”

“don’t give a fuck if she cries or not, i’ll give her a real reason to in a minute.” and katsuki bakugou always lives up to his threats, shuffling back under your skirt to press his tongue flat against your soaked panties. he groans into the material, sending vibrations straight up to your clit before he pulls the sticky material away  from your heat. “god...kiri, she’s s’fuckin’ wet. here.” you writhe against the sheets, jolting as bakugou guides your partner’s free hand to your gummy cunt.

his thick digits press into your sensitive nub and gather your slick between their fingertips, both boys watch in awe and hunger as more of the viscous nectar seeps out of you at their actions. “you’re right, she’s soaked, aren’t you baby?”

you can only nod weakly before the boys pounce, kirishima sucking his fingers clean before they go right back to drawing shapes on your puffy clit. bakugou wastes no time either, pinning you down to the bed with on arm as he slides his pink tongue up you the length of your glistening slit. the two of your lovers work together to make a mess of you, between the blonde slurping at your lower lips likes it his last mean and the red head circling your pleasure button over and over— you have no room to breathe.

all you can do is take what you’re given, throwing your head back as your  high pitched moans mingle with the steady beat of the music out in the hall. your pushy gushes around katsuki’s tongue as he forces it deeper into your tightness, committing each ridge to memory and dirtying his face with more of your juices. eijirou alternates the pressure of his fingers from time to time, grinning brightly every time your face twitches with need or with pleasure. your boys are so good to you, even when they’re in control of your body they always make sure you’re feeling good. getting you off, gets them off.

the waves of ecstasy are rolling off your sweat licked skin, the heat of two bodies pressed against you sending the temperature of your own off of the charts, arching perfectly every time katsuki nips at your pulsing pussy just right or eijirou pinches your clit between finger and thumb. you can’t help but leak all over the place, sure that there’s a dark patch on your innocent little skirt, but it’s worth it for the way your boys make you feel, for they tongue laps over your hard pleasure button even with fingers drawing every shape under the sun on it.

you gasp for air as the knot in your stomach twists and the fire of passion burns a brighter shade in your lower tummy, you sit right on the fence of earth shattering pleasure when both boys rip themselves away from you. “w-why’d...why’d you stop?” you wail, tears threatening to spill once more as your high slips away from your grasp.

you make an attempt to rut your hips into bakugou’s face that sits merely inches away from your sopping cunt, but he only smacks your thigh and cuts his eyes. “we’re checking the time, seeing how long we have left to make you feel good, so quit your fuckin’ cryin, okay?”

sniffling and bucking your hips into the air, you agree silently— only comforted by kirishima when he returns from his phone to cup your cheeks again, pressing kisses to your heated face. he slides his fingers that had been dirtied past your lips in a silent command to suck them clean too. “only twelve minutes left until the new year baby, can you cum, before then?” the red head coos you softly, but you don’t have the chance to respond, for bakugou latches right onto your pussy again, tongue thrusting in and out of your fluttering hole and sliding over your puffy clit.

kirishima hums against your neck while you choke and heave, his lips dancing across the base to add lovebites much harsher than your other lover between your shaky legs. your body calls for release as you tangle your fingers in a forest of blonde, causing your boyfriend to groan and hook his arms around your thighs— sucking, biting and ravishing your poor little entrance at an animalistic pace.

you jerk as the same feeling from earlier begins to unwind in your tummy, hips rolling violently against katsuki’s face. “gonna, mmmph....gonna—“

“what baby? what are you gonna do? be a good girl and tell daddy so he can help you...” eijirou coaxes the whines out of you, nosing up your bruised and bitten skin to trace over your wide parted lips. his own hand moves to join yours in your boyfriend’s hair, pushing his head further into your embarrassingly desperate cunt— lewd and wet sounds filling the air while katsuki growls at the slightly painful feeling.

“cum! gonna cum!” stars start to appear behind your eyes, splashes of colour dancing along your vision much like the people outside your room as you squeal and the knot in your stomach finally unravels with your release. the more explosive one out of your pair of lovers gulps down every drop of your sweet, honeyed release as the after shocks of your orgasm dash through your veins.

you watch with hooded eyes as bakugou leans up from between your slick thighs to share the taste of you in a kiss with kirishima, their tongues slide together in the filthy exchange, riling one another up while their hands slip under their shirts that have suddenly become to tight. stripping the offending garments, both of your boys return to you in your blissed out state, eyes wide with a carnal desire to take you again. “you did so well, naughty little thing,” bakugou hums, voice raspy as he pulls you into his chest. his caramel skin is almost too hot to the touch but it’s all you can focus on while you lose the feeling of eijirou to your left. the sound of a belt clinking further off is faint, but you pay it no heed as the blonde before you lays back with you on top of him. “‘gonna give you our cocks now, ‘kay princess? gonna cum on our cocks while we fuck you into next year...”

suddenly, you become hyper aware of the cockhead that presses against your creamy clit and gently push your hips back against it, just to hear katsuki groan. his large and worn palms settle on your waist as he grinds back to meet your sticky pussy— the feeling making both your mouths fall open in low groans. “gimme your cocks, please,” is all you can say, mind far to hazy to form a proper sentence containing any word other than please. “want it now, can’t wait,” you can barely finish your sentence, too needy to think as you press your lips against bakugou’s for the first time that night, shivering at the taste of your release against his tongue. the kiss is sloppy, going nowhere in particular as you grind against each other and wait for kiri.

speaking of the red headed devil, he leans over the two of you, grabbing your jaw delicately to steal a kiss from you as his own length presses hotly against your backside. “can’t let you two have all the fun, can i?” your boyfriend chuckles breathlessly, slowly circling his hips into your ass, you have no idea how long the boys have been hard for but they waste no more time lifting your hips to align both of their thick cocks against your entrance.

bakugou soothes small circles into your lower back as the two of them press into you,  there’s a slight sting as your hole resists their intrusion— a burn that brings tears to your eyes with the attempt to double stuff you but you bite your lip and focus on the feeling of their leaking tips smearing precum along your velvet lined walls. a broken moan escapes you when they finally bottom out, thick and length girths buried balls deep inside of your throbbing heat and trapping them in.

you pulse around them as the boys wait for you to adjust, their hot breath tickling at your ears and neck. “yn,” katsuki groans, fidgeting beneath you while your nipples harden against his chest. “you’re s’fuckin tight, do we not fuck you enough? shit baby...”

“uhuh, need you ta move, ta fuck me open...please,” you slur, slumping between kirishima and bakugou— you can barely form words, mind too hazy at the thought of being so full of your boyfriends and their leaking, sloppy cocks. they love seeing you so useless between them, barley able to move except for the occasional jump in your hips to prompt them to move.

“so cute, let’s give the poor baby what she wants, yeah katsuki?”

nothing could prepare you for the sudden feeling of both your boyfriends’ thrusting into you at once. it’s a tight fit that has you jolting so far forward, bakugou has to grip your hips to keep you still while kirishima grunts into your neck, hushing his own means with every kiss he places against your skin. the red head places a weighted palm on the base of your spine, forcing your ass up into the air and setting the pace. your cunt spasms with the roughness, soaking their cocks in your honeyed nectar as they push into you, stretching your hole for all it’s worth.

the boys have had their way with you before, usually taking turns forcing their cocks down your throat and painting your tongue with the taste of salty cum or spreading your thighs wide and licking you clean— but the way they double stuff you has you losing your goddamn mind, bright red cockheads catching on every ridge of your gummy walls at every push and pull of their hips. the two aren’t doing any better than you, poor katsuki whimpers at the way you attempt to roll your hips back onto them— chest heaving as his own cock brushes against his lover’s inside of you.

the youngest of the two, eijirou can barely breathe, stuck on how your cunt flutters around them, sweaty chest moulding perfectly with your arched back and hands grabbing fistfuls of your cute fleshy ass. the room is filled with heavy pants and the scent kid your sex in he air, clear liquid seeping down from your twitching pussy onto your thighs and splashing against heir pelvises. “what a sticky fuckin’ mess, huh princess?” the ash blonde somehow manages to mock you, his hazy blood red eyes dancing with amusement as your own well up with tears and your mouth hangs open in a needy wail when when kirishima manages to plough directly into your gummy sweet spot. katsuki weakly grabs hold of your cheeks, and like earlier, forces them together while your babble nonsense about how good it feels. he taps your cheeks a few times, almost as if he’s trying to rouse you from your fucked out state and smirks with pride when all you can do is cry some more. “oh shit, ei, we’ve fucked her dumb.”

his evil laugh rings out into the electric air, mingling with the grunts of your red headed lover and the should of skin slapping on skin. it’s so wet, so dirty and you should feel nasty for how their cocks cream warmly inside of you. the hand that rests of your back ( also belonging to ejirou ) slides up to the back of your neck, tugging you upwards while he chokes you out. “yeah baby? you turning into our dumb, brainless little bitch on new years? how pathetic.” the red haired boy utters hoarsely into your ear, nipping at it with sharpened teeth. the sudden gushing from your iron hot walls gives away how you feel about his degrading words, each one going straight to your core.

you find it in you to nod, arching your back and shivering when your lovers laugh at you, demean you for how much of a stupid slut you’re being when sandwiched between them. “feel so full...want more, fuck me more eiji, harder katsu...” you trip over each of your breathless words, falling into a throaty groan that comes from deep with. you want more, need more— and they give it to you. pumping into you at an eleven faster pace than before, the clapping of balls against your ass and count filling  your ears while the lively music begins to pump outside. ten boys live for his, taking you at a moment where anyone could walk in and see you stretched over their dribbling girths, the thrill drives them insane, drives you to sinful pleasures from worlds away.

“that’s our dumb little bitch, beg for more.” katsuki growls proudly, hand dropping between your entangled bodies to draw searing patterns into your clit— you’d scowl at him for activating his quirk every time his digits sparked over the puffy nub, but you were too far gone to care.

“keep rubbin one out on her bakugou— she clenches down so fucking hard when you do that.” kirishima sighs, hips beginning to stutter.

even the boys are joining you on cloud nine, eijirou tilting your head to get a good look at your face while you bounce back on their hardened lengths. bakugou and kirishima groan in unison at the sight of your lewd expression, eyes rolling back, tongue lolling out of your mouth while drool and tears smear across your mascara stained cheeks. what a fucking mess you are, body flushed and skirt stained, what a fucking mess they’ve made you— a weak and pathetic baby girl who shivers and writes each time a fat cock brushes up against your g-spot. broken laments slip from between your bruised lips as the two of your lovers angle their hips just right, prodding your pleasure spot over and over— and when both boys sneak hands down to press on your tummy bulge, you almost see stars.

your nails dig deeply into the pecks of the blonde beneath you, heart jumping as he lets out a broken howl of pleasure mixed with pain. the faint sound of a count down slips in from behind the closed door and you feel as if it’s a clock ticking towards your organs. desire flares up inside of you as you push and grind against your lover’s to chase your own release. “i’m so close, so so close... gonna cum, don’t stop. please don’t stop!” you chant, screwing your eyes shut while the boys give it their all.

three. the crowd cheers from outside.

“you cum when we say so, you cum on these fat cocks, okay honey? that’s right, that’s fucking right...” bakugou snarls, his own eyes crossing with the immense pleasure he feels from your welcoming heat. you nod feverishly and seek out his hand to hold.

two. drunken shouts spill into the halls, excitement crackling in the air.

their hips stutter, kirshima barley holding on as he works all three of you towards that final hurdle, kissing your cheek softly. “oh shit baby, the way you’re clamping around us...god, you’re gonna make me lose it. you can do it, you can cum for us...”

one. happy new year!

“holy fucking shit!”

“oh, fuck...yeah, yeah...”

colours, like fireworks, burst behind your eyes in flashes as the ecstasy that’s built up within you is finally released. your juices splash against the hips of bakugou and the pelvis of kirishima, painting them with your sweetness and making their skin shine under the yellow artificial light. they follow not long after as you tremble between their bodies; two loads of thick, hot cum spray your insides and cost it white— the potent milky liquid reaching as far as your womb, yet most of it leaking out of your velvet walls.

eijirou collapses to your side on the soiled sheets, watching with awe as a mix of all of your arousals seep out of your abused hole. you squirm in the elder’s  grasp as the red head’s fingers delicately scoop up some of the sticky mess and bring it to his mouth. a satisfied hum leaves his lips as he sucks bus own digits clean, blinking at both you and katsuki sleepily. “happy new year, guys, i love you.”

“yeah yeah, love you both too,” bakugou rolls his eyes but holds an arm out for the younger male to roll into, hugging you both to the blonde’s chest. despite his his gruff and harsh voice, you can still see the traces of adoration on his face. he loves you both so much and wouldn’t dare change this night for the world. “happy new year, ya horny little bastards.”

completely blissed out and too tired to scold him for sounding so mean, however, you lean forward and press a soft kiss to the younger’s nose before sneaking one to the grump in which you lie on. “i love you guys so much, you nasty boys.”

the three of stay curled up for a while after that, as the party outside bursts with hopefulness for the new year. it seems as though you’re all going to fall asleep when the door bursts open to reveal a certain tipsy group of friends.

“so this is what you guys were doing instead of celebrating the countdown with us,”  mina chimes, hanging off of sero’s back as she peeks her head through the doorway. you squeal and make a dive for the blankets, hiding your naked body from the view of your lovers’ prying friends.

bakugou’s roommate huffs triumphantly while izuku, todoroki and momo fail to hold back their laughter. “told you she was gonna get laid.”

kirishima flushes red as his hair and makes an attempt to join you in hiding under the sheets while your explosive boyfriend jumps out of the bed in full naked glory, activating his quirk to threaten his friends. “i’m gonna count to three, and all of you better start fucking running before i kick your asses for bursting in on us.”

“but i thought we already had a countdown...y’know for the new year,”denki dumbly comments. “don’t be silly baku bro!” but he doesn’t have much time to dwell on his thought for your angry boyfriend is already chasing him down the hall, explosions sparking at his sides.

it’s the first day of the new year and denki kaminari is already going to die at the hands of abutt naked katsuki bakugou.

happy fucking new year indeed.

[astaroth1357]

Demigod MC Series: Ares

Demigod MC Series: Intro, Aphrodite, Hermes, Hades, Dionysus, Demeter, Athena, Hades Pt. 2, Poseidon, Ares

Lucifer

He cannot overstate what kind of damage this mortal was able to do in their first few seconds in the Devildom...

The instant they got to their feet, they had managed to incapacitate Satan and knock down Beel. Lucifer himself tried to get between them and Diavolo but…

If he hadn’t moved his head, if he was standing just ONE INCH to the left… he wouldn’t have a head anymore. Barbatos was there to intervene, but had he not they could have probably taken out the Avatar of Pride and done critical damage to the Demon Prince himself in one strike...

Frankly, Lucifer prefers not to dwell on that moment... He's sure Ares must be proud of this one...

He pretty much treats the mortal like a live bomb afterward, if he can get away with not interacting with them at all, that’s what he’ll do.

He’s NOT scared of them... much... It’s just that they have a bullish and uncooperative attitude at best and since they know they can take any of them, they don't even consider him - Lucifer, the eldest demon brother - a threat...

But you know what the most frustrating thing is? They won't give him an inch of respect, but they'll always listen to Levi! Levi!!

Look, Lucifer knows he may not hold a rank among the Hell's army and he might not have been a major player in the Celestial/Demonic wars of the day, but he's still the strongest demons here, dammit!! 😡

Lucifer finds nothing is more embarrassing than having to ask Levi of all people to keep the mortal in line because he can't... Oh, the humiliation… He hopes they leave soon...

Mammon

At first, he thought they were scary. But in time he thought they were scary… and also pretty damn awkward.

Mammon wasn’t there when they more or less wiped out the majority of his brothers in the Conference Hall but when he finally showed up he'd never seen Lucifer look so pale… If THAT doesn't make you shit your pants, he doesn't know what will.

Naturally, he kind of toned it down on the "stupid human" stuff real quick after seeing that…

But here's the thing. After the two made a pact together, Mammon started to notice that the MC wasn't all that mean, they were just… violent?

He legitimately thought that they couldn’t stand him for a while until one day a guy on the street called him a dirtbag. The MC threw a punch right there! No questions asked, they just decked that guy!!

It was kind of touching… and messy. Very messy. Did he mention that they’re terrifying yet? 😥

As it turns out, the MC has apparently spent a lot of their life just fighting things and being asked to fight things so they're not very used to showing non-violent affection… 

It took him awhile, but he realized that their way of saying, "I like you," is, "I will attack your enemies." So now all he does when his brothers tease him is say, "I'm telling MC!'' and they'll stop immediately. It's great!! 😁

Considers them to be his bodyguard when he goes out to gamble in some… shadier places. Most of the time not even the bouncers want to take on the MC, ain't nobody getting paid enough to lose that many teeth…

Leviathan

Okay, so. It's not very obvious anymore, but he USED to be on the front lines of the war against demons in the Celestial Realm. He was in charge of battle strategies, he led armies, and even now he still holds the highest rank of the royal navy!

So leave it to the kid of a war god to sniff all that out about him, huh…? They appeared to know all about his record the instant they saw him and they actually seemed to respect him for it!

For context, this mortal tells pretty much everybody to shove off but any time he’s around they call him “Admiral” or “sir” and actually pay attention to what he says! He can tell it drives Lucifer insane, but honestly? It’s a bit of an ego boost. 😌

It’s sort of cute when they come to him asking for tactical advice… They get just as into it as he does with his anime and any time he points out something that they haven't seen before they get so excited it's like they're a kid watching a magic trick. HUGE ego boost. 😏

Speaking of anime, it’s hit or miss whether or not they can watch any of it. Anything with good fight scenes (and let’s be honest, not that much talking) they’re on board for. But if the hero and the villain talk to each other for like an episode before throwing punches then the MC will just rant...

MC: “The enemy is distracted... Why aren’t they attacking yet??”

Levi: “Because the villain killed the hero’s best friend and they’re-”

MC: “They could avenge their friend right now if they ended things right here!”

Levi: “MC, we’ve been over this... That’s not how plot works.”

MC: “And now he got away!! See?? They should have killed him when they had the chance!”

Levi: “*sigh*... Let’s just play some CoD.”

Satan 

The last thing he remembered when the “human” hopped out of the portal was a sharp pain to the side of the temple and Asmo wailing as he fell unconscious…

Yeeeeah, not great. And unfortunately for the mortal the Avatar of Wrath tends to hold a grudge… 

For a comparatively brief moment in time, all of Satan’s considerable ire had shifted away from Lucifer and to their new housemate. They found their bed, clothes, pillows, food, and even their toothbrush cursed!

… But Ares kids must be built from some strong stuff, because half of what he employed didn’t even faze them! He even put an explosive spell on their backpack and not only did they tank the blast, it didn’t hurt them at all!! It was like they’re damn near immortal!

Annnnd they kind of are. Apparently the MC had taken a dip in the River Styx at some point before and became nigh invulnerable…

Was it maybe a little terrifying to know that they had kidnapped a nearly invincible demigod on the level of Achilles? Yes. Did that also mean that they must have had a weakness too? In theory....

Satan honestly devoted a depressing amount of time trying to uncover the “Achilles’ Heel” of his new sworn enemy… until…

The MC was walking with him and Asmo to RAD one morning when they passed by a group of lesser demons harassing a small puppy. Now Satan may be more of a cat man, but NO ONE fucks with animals while he’s around.

He was right about to go over and rip those demons a new one but the MC actually beat him to it! Apparently, the second that they realized what was happening, they launched themselves forward and started bashing the abusers' heads into a wall!

… Live by violence, forgive by violence because in that very moment Satan decided they weren’t so bad after all. He even joined in!

Oh, Asmo gave them both shit all day for the bloodstains on their uniforms and the scratches on their… everywhere, but it’s not like either of them cared. Righteous justice had been served and it was glorious!!

100% would team up with the MC in some kind of vigilante “punish-all-animal-abusers” gig. They have but to ask. 😌

Asmodeus

Oh they TERRIFIED Asmo when they first showed up! How else was he supposed to react?? They brought down his brothers like they were made of cardboard!!

Though he had to admit that the confident, battle-ready look they had about them was sexy as hell, he knew better than to go bear poking! 😣 He avoided them like plague until they finally asked him for a pact.

And then he discovered something… something very unexpected….

They're actually adorable!!!

Okay, like, not in appearance (they look like they could pile drive Cerberus for Pete’s sake!) but he discovered that they have NO CLUE how to handle physical affection. Like zero!!

The first time Asmo actually got the courage to try and hug them he expected them to toss him off, but instead they just stood there like a malfunctioning doll, all flustered and confused… It was so cute!!! 🥰

From that point on, Asmo would take every chance he could to wrap his arms around them or kiss their cheeks just to watch them try and fail to handle it. It's more fun than picking on Levi!!

It took two months for them to finally attempt any kind of reciprocation and even that was adorable! They pecked him on the forehead without thinking about it then nearly passed out from the realization. Apparently, they had never felt like kissing anyone before so he was quite honored!

The brothers know that if the MC's looking too mad to listen to Levi, they just need to call Asmo. A nigh invincible warrior becomes a LOT less scary after you’ve cuddled them into submission! 🤭

Beelzebub

Beel didn't like them one bit, at least not at the beginning. They had managed to get past him and actually attack Lucifer which was NOT a great first impression on their part...

He honestly saw them as a threat for a while, but unlike the rest of his brothers he didn’t avoid them. He just kept an eye on them.... constantly….

Look. Beel is a big guy. Stealth is not his strong suit… If he's tailing you, you're probably going to know about it because there's a six-foot something behemoth in orange following you around while pounding down bags of chips. He's not very subtle…

That being said, after following them around for a while the two finally got to talking and he realized that they didn’t want to hurt anybody or anything. They were just acting on instinct before.

After making the MC promise not to hurt any of his family, they got on much better terms. Hell, he actually got them into fangol!

Beel's sport of choice is pretty much just ultra-violent American football so the MC took a liking to it instantly! After enough begging, the coach let them try out and they got onto his team immediately.

He likes having them as a teammate! They're very good at the game, uh... even if they take it a little too seriously…

They once tried to convince his teammates to decorate the team bus with "the helmets of their fallen foes." They're REALLY into the sport… But hey, they haven't lost a game since they’ve joined. It’ll be fine!... Probably.

Belphegor

Hahaha… He’s in danger… 😥

It took one look at this mortal to make him rethink the whole, “Trick the Human” plan… Since when have humans looked like that?? They could crush his skull under their heel!!

It took all he had in him to play it cool when they first met because his internal monologue was nothing but screaming… THIS was the "human" he had to use to get him out of there?? How in the WORLD was he going to kill them?!

Admittedly, he had to think about it for a while. Belphie's a clever guy… and a demon. So who needs an honorable fight, anyway? If he can’t win one-on-one, then he’ll cheat!

He waited until the MC got the door open and didn't attempt a frontal assault… No laughter, no gloating. He just waited for them to turn their back, claws ready to dig out their heart, and then-!

MC: "Do you really want to try that?"

The MC must have had some kind of danger sense, because they didn't even have to turn around to know what Belphie was doing…

MC: "Look. I like Beel and you're his twin brother… So I'm willing to let this slide. But if you really want to try me…"

MC: *looks over their shoulder with the glare of a bona fide killer* "I won't hold back."

That was... very persuasive.

The MC brought Belphie down to the others peacefully with his tail between his legs and honestly Lucifer was more relieved that he wasn’t a bloodstain on the floor than he was mad… They could have killed him sooo easily… 

They did, indeed, forgive and forget about the whole “attempted murder” thing, though Belphie was never quite able to shake off how frightening they were in that moment… He had nightmares for a while.

Thankfully, Asmo clued him in that the MC would melt into a harmless puddle of fluff if they got even the slightest bit of physical affection... Oh, the sweet payback he could dish out... It’s cuddle time. 😏

[winterwrites23]

Nations and death

Nations’ mortality is a bit strange. They’re not immortal per se because they can be killed, but at the same time they live for centuries. As long as they have a Land, people and culture to represent, they’re alive and will come back if they die. This is what I call a ‘Passing death’. 

A passing death can happen for a number of reasons, such as an accident, a disease, an attack or anything that could normally kill a human. Nations come back to life depending on the gravity of the cause of death. It can range from a few hours to a few days. Which scares the crap off humans whenever they wake up in the morgue/hospital. Unless it’s a full obliteration of the body, then it can take weeks, even months, but they will come back. During that time, nations enter into a deep sleep state and find themselves in a sort of ‘Elysian fields’ to wait it out. It’s kind of their own little heaven bubble where they can reflect on memories while their body heal itself. That bubble can be different for everyone. It can be a calm shore of a sea or a cozy cottage in the countryside: everything that brings comfort and peace for them. Some nations have claimed to have met Ancient nations in that state.

Despite having enhanced healing and a higher resilience, some injuries leave scars, whether to represent a major war or a natural disaster (earthquakes, forest fires, volcanoes, etc.). Nations can also have lasting injuries depending on the context of how they got it. For example, I have a headcanon of Wales losing his hearing after a mission gone bad during WW2. The blast of the missile burst his eardrums, and it took him years for them to heal because it happened just after the Cardiff Blitz. His body was still healing from the airstrikes, so the injury hurt him more. I also like to think Canada started wearing glasses after the tragic Halifax explosion in 1917, the blast was so bright and huge, hundreds of people went blind. It took Canada a few months to be able to see again, but it never healed completely. There would always be a blurriness in his vision until he got glasses. Nations are not invincible, they can get hurt if they’re already in a weakened state.

There’s an etiquette that all modern nations follow, and that’s to never kill another nation, at least directly. Sure, they can injure the other as much as they want or send a human assassin to finish the job, but they’ll never go as far as killing a nation by their hands. That’s because there’s an unsaid fear to permanently kill a nation. Injuries given by another nations take longer to heal. Nations are few on the planet, so the ‘reproduction rate’, by lack of a better term, is really low so they’re careful. Even during times of war, they prefer to ransom a nation instead of going for the kill.

Nations aren’t immortal. They can die permanently, and when that happens, it’s called a Fade. This normally occurs when there’s a big change in the foundation of their being (culture, language, people, etc.). A change so different from them, they can’t adjust because the foundation isn’t the same. That’s what happened to most Ancient nations, they couldn’t adapt to the shift. A Fading doesn’t happen instantly, it’s a progressive deterioration of their connection with the Land. They slowly lose the bond they have with the people and the connection of their borders, until they lose the connection with their Heart, the capital. The process can take months or years to happen and during that time, the nation will start to lose their heightened senses (strength, memory loss, healing, sensing others, etc). In other words, they become human. 

When a nation is in the process of Fading, they have a strong urge to go to their place of birth. It’s sort of like completing the circle of life. They are born in one place and die in the same place no matter what. A nation can have this urge when it’s a ‘Passing death’ but it’s not as strong. No one knows exactly how a nation Fades. One day, they walk the earth; the next, they are nowhere to be seen.

However, because Nations are tied to the Land, those close to the Faded can feel it when it happens. A Passing death can be felt by others if they have a close relationship, but it’s more subtle and easily overlooked. A Fading is much stronger and intense. Nations can sense the last connection breaking, like the snap of a rubber band, and it can be described by some as a searing pain in the soul that resonates across the Land. The UK+Ireland brothers all felt it when Albion, their mother, walked the Land for the last time. It was felt like a ripple and even other nations across the world felt it. After all, nations come from the same place: the Land. 

Death is a strange concept for Nations, but they’re all aware they will one day reach their finish line as seen in history. Living in a world that is mostly at peace, a Fading is a rare occurrence but it’s inevitable, it can’t be ignored.

More headcanons

[legguk]

Hi!! So,

it's my ( literal ) first time writing fanfiction, so I'm pretty new at this stuff, but Lady Dimitrescu is all I was able to think about for weeks and I >needed< to do something about it.

( If you want some context, I wrote this thinking “what if Alcina survived?” - Alcina's pov )

———

The fall,

The end of everything you once loved

Ethan Winters.

You woke up... somehow, you woke up. The frigid air hitting your fresh wounds felt like a jolt send by reality, as if one says "you're still alive" -

- and oh how you were starting to hate that feeling.

Laying on the demolished floor of your castle, muscles twitching in pain, mouth open gasping for air... that's how you are, how you will remember yourself from now on. A defeated dragon, a crushed woman, a dead mother.

You should get up, you should let go of your carcass and crawl your way back into the warmth of your home, you should—

—you should be dead, actually. Resting on death's cold embrace along with your daughters.

Daughters.

God, your daughters.

The memories flood your mind with a painful, unbearable reminder; they're gone, dead, crystalized - gone. They're gone. Your lovely daughters, your pride and joy, the main reason you'd open up your eyes in the morning...

...Bela,

Cassandra,

Daniela....

Their names are long cold, not yet forgotten - no, never forgotten - but somewhere else, as they don't belong here anymore; not on your arms, tucking them to bed. Not on your hands, caressing their faces. Not on your lips, kissing their foreheads. Not on your tongue, as you say them.

A raspy scream leaves your throat, it sounds disturbing.

You sob, hot tears trailing down your cheeks and neck, small cries for help find their way into the wind, disappearing with less importance then when they materialized.

You cannot recall for how long you stayed at that very same position, perhaps some hours, perhaps a day, but you are certain that at some point you were overcame by tiredness and collapsed - probably the best to do for now.

xxx

And so, rises the moon and the stars watch upon your limp body, the night howling a merciful wind and singing a melodic song. Grunting, you push yourself up with your elbows, sitting up and facing the sky through the hole you've made on the roof... and the levels above...

A huge carcass sits besides you, it's wings bended on itself and it's big mouth open to whoever would like to have a peek; you probably changed back into your normal body while unconscious... Now that you can see it clearly, you notice the damage that man-thing did to you... by heavens, how were you still alive and...

Oh. The castle. You look forward, taking in the horizon - the stars look exclusively shiny tonight - you breath in, the dusty air causes you to chough a few times. Stretching your neck a bit to see your whole house, you tell yourself it looks.. fine, actually, ignoring the broken windows. The broken windows.

It's cold. You shiver harshly, panting as the air meets your bare back and rumbles through your lungs, making you hug yourself, - you're naked, you just realized - the winter in Romania is truly kind to no one.

Your legs tremble with just the thought of trying to stand on your feet. You don't rush to do it either, let the wintry breeze take in your wounds, make it sting, burn it, freeze it; freeze your body along.

“To die. To die is to live. To live without them, that's torture. To live without their presence, absent of their scents, to not hear them, nor see their faces again, that's worse than death; far, far worse. How could I ever walk into that damned house without the heavenly sounds of their laughs, the tapping of their feet as they walk free, the steadiness of their heartbeats, reminding me that my own still beats.

Beats for them. For them only.

And they're gone.

So who shall my heart beat for? Myself? No, that wouldn't do. I will rip it out from my chest if I must, sacrifice it to any god who may hear me, all so I could spend five more minutes with them. Then I'd die in peace and find them at my arms again at whatever comes after this poor life.

But I'm here.”

You still hold yourself as you stare at a castle's - broken - window, new warm tears hanging the same trail the old and now dry ones did, a silent cry.

Your intrusive thoughts were abruptly cut by a loud noise from the inside of the castle, making you jump up, gathering all your last strengths to stand and walk a few shaky steps closer to home. The more you walked, the louder the noises got; a little rustle became a bang, and your tiptoing became a sprint, you hold yourself as tight as you can, ignoring the bleeding, the cold air spiking your lungs, how insanely fast you heartbeat was. You need to get there, protect the last remnant of them you still have.

The gates felt heavy now, even for you, who would open them with one hand. Where is your strength now? The fearless dragon who'd do anything to protect her house? Perhaps she died on that fall, and now all there's left is a shadow of what you were one day.

With much pain, you open the big doors, leading to the comfort of your house; you don't get in, you throw yourself in. The warm atmosphere engulfed you like a summer kiss on a winter storm, all you needed to ground yourself to reality for now. Grabbing some sheets laying over an old counter, you wrap yourself in it – oh, that's gonna get soaked in blood, but that's not of your concern now – moving incredibly fast for someone as hurt as yourself, you follow the continuous sounds that could not mean something good. The main doors are open, the cellar is unlocked as well, that idiotic man-thing couldn't even close the doors once he finished slaughtering your home? Imbecile.

You stand at the library's door now, suddenly frozen; you know what happened in there... do you really want to get in? Are you truly ready to face it again? Maybe you should take a step back and walk away, it would be the most logical decision to take now.

But what is logic when the heart screams? What is the brain for once your emotions take the best of you? You can't walk away. Put some honor on your name. Save the last bit of your daughter that fate is still conceiving you. Your chest rises and falls completely out of coordination, your fists close around the fabric involving your body; get ready, you're going in; gather the last bit of courage you have inside yourself and blast these doors.

And so you do.

You bring those pieces of wood to the ground, the only barrier between you and the reality you couldn't accept; a guttural growl forms in your chest as you see a lycan approach your child's crystalized body; you're blind with ire, sorrow, protectorship - you name it - and it makes you shout at the top of your lungs as you dilacerate the filthy beasts you'd bat your eye at. A bloody trail of corpses marks your way through the castle grounds, your claws dripping with fresh sanguine fluid - which you can't tell if it's from the creatures or from yourself - the crimson path follows you all the way to the other wing of mansion like a spirit who must haunt you for eternity.

You scream like a feral animal, blood soaking the once white cloth around your form; the scream becomes a shriek, which descends to a yelp, ending as a furious cry. You can feel the anger leaving you, like the waters of a waterfall; explosive, big portions of water falling into a numb, deaden lake. Hopefully those waters will carry you with them, you shall fall and sink at a anesthetizing lagoon.

You kneel, eyes closed, eyebrows frowned; a loud sigh fills the deafening silence in the air, your mind is blank – better, your mind is red, scarlet red mixed with black, ire and grief. Slowly, your head lower itself so you're facing the floor.

The big Lady Dimitrescu,

kneeling on a pool of blood, defeated.

•

“Lady Dimitrescu!”

Who..? The voice was so far yet so close, you try your best to focus on the direction of the calls but your nerves just won't cooperate.

“Lady!”

Who would be calling for you? Is your mind playing tricks on you now? And since when you were laying on the floor? Too many questions for too little answers. You try to stand up, but a sharp pain on your side made you cry out and fall on your back, face knotted in pain – perhaps your adrenaline rush was keeping you from feeling what was really happening with your body, and now you feel like you're betraying yourself for that.

A small figure approaches you in a fast pace, causing you to unleash your claws one more time and snarl at the not-so-possible threat; you were hurt. Vulnerable. Letting someone close was the last thing you wanted now. The humanoid thing backs away a few steps with your aggressive reaction, hands on their chest, visibly afraid – even though your vision is quite blurry, you identify their expression: scared, desperate, sorrowful – they call out once more, almost shouting.

“Please, Lady Dimitrescu, let me help!”

Ah... Help... The now clearer feminine voice washes over you - a wave of compassion - as if hope has found its way to your house again. Well, it better go away again, or you'll drag it out yourself.

“Out.” was all that left your lips, your intense gaze locking with hers, a silent yet not so discrete warning; although you had only said one word, it was well understood by the woman, who stepped away, eyes still meeting yours, a dreadful cast hang on her face.

Still, she didn't left.

Is that girl testing her luck? It can only be. Once again you warn her: “Leave. I will not repeat myself.”

Her posture stiffens, after a moment of silence she looks at the door, truly wondering about leaving or not; her body turns around, her knuckles going white from how hard she was grabbing the fabric on her chest – she's conflicted. But why? Who is she, after all? – A long, defeated sigh leaves her, as if she knows there is no choice left.

“Allow me to help.” A failed effort on trying to sound confident; her voice is full of tears and her tone is oscillating – it makes you wonder if she has been crying – The human walks towards you, trying not to make any eye contact; you can't stand on your feet, you left hand is pressed on your injured side, the other is open and directing your now extended nails towards her.

Oh how funny it is, no?

The predator being cornered by the prey. The dragon being trapped by the rabbit. How ridiculous it is.

Her extremely shaky hands hang in front of her, trying to say she won't hurt you – oh if she only knew it's going to be the other way round. – One step closer.. Her lips and chin tremble; Another. Your claws grow bigger, eyes peering through her soul; another step, your eyebrows frown, her eyes are teary. The last step - your blood is boiling hot, your nerves on edge; you are still the predator. - a slicing sound and a half-scream saturate the air for a millisecond, just for silence to overfill it once more. Red splashes over the room again, on your face, on your chest, but mostly on the floor, where the girl was thrown at.

An agonizing scream leaves her throat - what a miracle, she remains alive - both of her hands cover her face, blood spilling all over her; what a sight, you would most definitely enjoy this very much on another situation. She cries out in despair, making you face the ceiling and close your eyes, a tired look on your face – you just want all this to end, you don't have any more patience for this. You want to crawl back into your bed and starve, you want to destroy this place, make it abandoned ruins of what one day was a home; you want to kill that damned sickening man-thing, kill this foolish girl for perturbing your grieving, and then yourself.

The woman captures your attention once again, she is kneeling, her body facing yours, her right hand presses her ripped face, the other makes its slow way up to you, although she is trembling, she manages to keep her hand steady enough to hand you a little green flask with a yellow-y label; You look closer, 'treatment disinfectant' it says... Oh you can only be joking. You feel like slaughtering the girl right this instant, but takes in a deep breath and holds the flask, her hand immediately falling along with her body. Is she dead? No, her slow yet consistent breathing exclaims that she is still alive – you honestly find it a bit offensive – You should, but you cannot bring yourself to finish the human; you should end her suffering, but now she caught your attention; and besides, she wants to help, doesn't she? then the price she'll pay is staying alive.

———

hahaaa I'm so nervous about posting this,,, ,

and yes! It is a alcina x maiden fic! I do plan it to be slow burn, and if some you liked it and read it till here, please like and/or reblog and I'll post chapter 2!

( posted on Ao3! Name: “The woman in your castle” )

( chapter 2 posted!! )

[misslynn99]

Epicenter: Chapter Two

Pro Hero! Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

Link on AO3: Epicenter

Link to Chapter 1

Author: misslynn_99 (Me!)

The next morning, the café regulars buzzed around the TV monitors, excitedly chatting about the news. Official footage of the attack had finally been aired. Concrete flew everywhere as the villain lashed out against heroes, sending distraught civilians fleeing from the scene. The scene that every news station had on repeat, however, was that of several tons of concrete on a direct collision course for a young family, until Ground Zero put himself between the two. He squared back one shoulder to pulverize the rubble with a blast, and in that moment, his wild eyes were molten flames, the fine cascade of dust casting a hazy halo around his form.

It was such a harsh contrast to the villain swinging a pillar of concrete immediately after, colliding directly with the hero’s chest and sending him hurtling back against the harsh exterior of another building, slumping bonelessly on the ground.

“He saved them.” You whispered to yourself. Icy needles twisted in your chest. Eijirou had  trusted you to care for his closest friend at his most vulnerable. The café was much closer than any hospital to the scene, but your heart skipped a beat, fluttering in astonishment. “He could have died. It’s a wonder he didn’t.” Just how close had Ground Zero been to death’s door when he showed up here?

“Blasty is lucky he’s got a rad, manly partner like me.” Eijirou’s voice startled you, suddenly far too close to your ear.

“Hi!” You squeaked. “Didn’t hear you come in.”

“You think I’d let my best girl go un-thanked after saving my partner’s ass yesterday?” His arms swept you into a tight bear hug, twirling your feet off of the floor. Eijirou’s easy smile seemed to smooth over the awkward tension from the day before, as if it were no more than an insignificant blight of an otherwise sunny day.

“Quit harassing the woman, Shitty Hair. We’re here on business.”

“She likes it.” Eijirou had the gall to stick out his tongue. “Isn’t that right?”

“I, I don’t mind.” You couldn’t help but squeeze your eyes shut in embarrassment, dropping your head forward, and you prayed that no one would notice. This crush was spiraling out of control, as the sturdy muscles that could shatter any obstacle and strong enough to lift cars supported you easily in his embrace.

“ ‘Don’t mind’ isn’t the same as ‘like’.” Ground Zero’s mouth turned even further downward into a scowl. Reluctantly, Eijirou set you down, and you felt cold at the absence of his touch. The tension settled again like a thick cloud, choking out whatever embers of affection you felt for the red haired hero.

“I didn’t mean to impose.” The red-head’s own face was dusted with faint pink, nervously scratching the back of his neck.

“It’s no problem.” You tried your best to smile kindly, wincing internally at the memory of his flinch. “Why don’t I get you both some coffee on the house? It’s the least I can do for everything you two do to protect the city.”

“One black coffee it is then!” Eijirou perked back up.

“So, I take it you’ll have the latte, extra heavy cream with two pumps caramel, two pumps cinnamon, and cinnamon-brown sugar mix dusted on top?”

Ground Zero’s eyes narrowed. “You don’t have to say that so loud.”

“No shame.” You chuckled despite yourself. “Plenty of people take their coffee sweet, too.”

“Don’t spare Blasty’s feelings!” Eijirou laughed. “Even Mr. ‘Nothing is spicy enough’ likes sweets on occasion.”

“You better shut your mouth!” Ground Zero snapped, his tone climbing with each word. Curiously, Eijirou kept laughing, and tapped at his own ear.

“Right, got it.” The blonde grumbled. “Too loud.”

“Here you go, boys.”

“I have a name, you know.” The blonde held the cup up, scowling. “I’m off work, damn it. You called Shitty hair by his name on the cup.”

“It’s not like you introduced yourself between eating shit against the building and going in for surgery.” Eijirou scoffed.

“And you did?”

“Kiri stayed with me while they gave me IV fluids.” You supplied bashfully. “And I wanted to know when you made it out okay.”

“Call me Bakugou then.” He made a strangled noise. “When I’m not in suit tearing shit up, I don’t wanna hear ‘Ground Zero’ from you, got it?

“Not your given name?” Eijirou seemed to take a savage joy in goading on the explosive hero. “That’s awful cold, Katsuki. She did save you from a hospital stay and a month off of hero work.”

“Or Katsuki, whatever.” If looks could kill, Eijirou would have dropped dead in his tracks. Bakugou’s eye twitched and small firework-pops crackled off of his palms, clenched into fists at his side.  You hoped that the café regulars were too enamored with the news and their own conversations to notice the sparks flying.

“I can call you Bakugou, if that’s what make you more comfortable. Wouldn’t want to get on your bad side.” You chuckled, carefully watching his expression for his reaction to the playful jab.

“Kacchan’s bark is worse than his bite, at least off of the battlefield.” A new voice drifted in from the door. The emerald curls, gelled up from his undercut, were unmistakable. “I’m afraid that we didn’t get introduced last night. I’m Deku, but you can call me Midoriya if you’d like.”

“Kacchan?” You grinned wickedly. “Isn’t that so cute!”

Bakugou bristled. “What the hell do you think you’re doing, you fucking nerd!” He whipped around to snarl at the green-haired hero that had just walked in. For someone who was effectively co-workers with the number one hero, Bakugou acted like he despised the man.

“Aw, pump the breaks Kacchan.” Midoriya scrunched his freckled nose in a wide grin. “I’m just here to say hello to the woman who saved your life last night. So, this is where Kiri has been getting your coffee from? It’s such a nice little café, I think I’ll have stop by more often.”

“Like hell you will! We found it first!” Bakugou growled, stepping between you and Deku, while Eijirou chimed in the background, “I think you mean that I found it first.”

“Boys, boys, you’re all very pretty.” You ducked around the pro hero’s side, attempting to soothe the bickering. “I have plenty of coffee to go around. “

“You’re not keeping her as your personal barista and healer, Kacchan.”

“What happened to keeping this on the down-low?” Bakugou suddenly stiffened, whispering harshly.

“I think someone is feeling a bit embarrassed.” Eijirou rolled his eyes.

“I got my shit rocked on national television, of fucking course I feel embarrassed.” The blonde snapped. “But for her safety, I thought we agreed to keep any rescue shit-talk out of the public eye.”

Wincing, you looked up at him. “I think they’re calling you saving that family the rescue of the year though. And lots of people have minor healing quirks.”

Whipping his head back and forth, he snagged the strings of your apron and tugged you behind the coffee bar, through the doorway into the kitchen.

“Wait!” The two other heroes followed suit, chasing you as Bakugou dragged you out of the public eye.

“You don’t have a ‘minor healing quirk.’ “ He scowled, placing a hand on each of your shoulders, hands trembling as if he were resisting the urge to shake you. You could feel the residual heat of his calloused palms, the threat of an explosion ghosting along your skin and sending shivers up your spine.

“You have a self-destructive healing quirk that has major potential to get you kidnapped. Do you know the League of Villains would do to get their hands on you? Or fuck it, the Hero Commission? They’d keep you caged up like some animal to fix up their toys as they broke so that they could be sent out scot-free again.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.” Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Midoriya and Eijirou recoil, especially as the blonde hero turned his ire towards them once again. “Is some kind of joke to you two? Kirishima, if you could take two minutes to keep it in your pants, and Deku, if you could be serious, we need to come up with a plan.”

“Yes, Kacchan.” Midoriya and Eijirou nodded.

“Where do you live?” His burning eyes narrowed in your direction once again.

Swallowing thickly, you met his gaze. “In the loft above the café.”

“Hmm. Who all knows about the full extent of your quirk?”

“Just my parents, and my best friend from middle school, who moved to the states while we were in college.”

“Maybe she should stay with one of us?” Midoriya offered. “Just to see if anyone’s decided to target her?”

Panic froze your feet to the floor. “I don’t think that’s necessary.” You laughed nervously, fiddling with the apron strings tied at your hip. “I mean, you’re all very nice, but I could never ask that of anyone. I’m up at 4 in the morning to get the café ready to open at five, and walking alone in the dark is not my forte.” Especially if I might as well have a big target painted on my forehead now.

“The League definitely keeps an eye on our flats. They might not have made the connection that she’s done anything yet, but moving her in would be a surefire way to draw their attention. Also, there’s no way the Commission would just ignore someone else hanging out all the time.” Eijirou argued. “I think it would be better to set up surveillance on the café and her loft, and maybe get her a panic button or something.”

“A panic button.” Bakugou snorted. “I don’t know if you’ve heard of it, but there are these novel things called ‘cellphones.’ “

“And if she can’t call?” Midoriya raised an eyebrow.

“Brave words for someone who dropped his location to Icy-Hot, with literally no context, in the middle of an alleyway, and he magically appeared anyways.”

Sighing and stepping between the two bickering men, Eijirou held his hand out expectantly. “Here, I’ll put our numbers in your phone. We should probably scope out your apartment later.”

“I close at five tonight.” You offered, passing your cell to him, contacts open. “I’ll probably be done cleaning up by six, but you’re free to drop by whenever you get the chance after that. All of this feels pretty crazy though. It’s not like I did anything out in the open.”

Turning on the full force of his overwhelming intensity, Bakugou rounded on you once again, having caught the tail of your conversation. “There’s a couple articles floating around. You’re in the pictures, being floated to the hospital, and some low life bloggers are wondering how I was fine so soon afterwards, when Recovery Girl was on the other side of the country for some other case.” Venom dripped from his words, as if this were your fault somehow.

“It’s not my fault that I helped you!” Anger leaked into your voice. You couldn’t believe that he had the audacityto blame you for this. “Don’t talk to me like it is. I couldn’t not do anything. It’s a wonder that hit didn’t do worse, and I am certainly not responsible for them taking me to the hospital with you.”

In frustration, you stormed out of the kitchen, straightening your apron and apologizing to the handful of customers who were waiting by the cash register. A friendly smile and a few discounted coffees later, they sat down at a booth. The heroes were still in your kitchen, and you felt your resolve to ignore them crumbling. “I did give Kiri and Bakugou free coffee earlier.” You mumbled to yourself, a mischievous idea taking root; Bakugou’s buttons were so easy to press.

Leaning around the corner, you poked your head back through the kitchen doorway. The heroes froze, their argument in low tones evaporating with your return. “Midoriya!” You grinned, drawing out the syllables playfully and deliberately ignoring the blonde hero’s angry stare. “How do you like your coffee? Sweet as you are?”

“Uh, umm” He stuttered and his eyes darted between you and the door. “With oat milk, white chocolate and toffee, and iced please.”

“Coming right up! On the house.” The sound of sparks dancing off of Bakugou’s palms eased your flare of anger, taking a little bit of satisfaction in riling up the blonde in return, and you set about making the drink.

The trio must have finally decided to drop their discussion, and shortly followed you out to wait by the coffee bar. Bakugo turned his back to you, eyeing the door and clutching his coffee  while Midoriya and Eijirou resigned themselves to facing you, their awkward expressions apologetic. The other café patrons were thankfully still transfixed by the TVs, oblivious to the situation at hand.

“Here’s your phone back.” Eijirou mumbled, setting your phone on the counter. “He doesn’t mean it. He’s just frustrated and annoyed, nothing against you personally. It’s just kinda how he is, ya know? He takes it out on everyone. He’s been this way since he was a teenager, but he doesn’t blame you. Promise.”

“Hmm. I suppose I can accept your apology on his behalf, just this once.” You whispered back, sliding a coffee cup to Midoriya, who sipped it gratefully.

“We’ll be back later. Come on, nerds.” Bakugo’s voice was gruff as he called over his shoulder. “We have a meeting and a patrol shift soon.”

The heroes left and an unease settled in your gut at their absence, acutely missing their larger than life presence. Even as the customers milled about, coming up for refills and pastries, their words weighed on your mind. Villains and Heroes had never been a major point of contention in your life; a quirk like yours wasn’t suited for the spotlight, and like thousands of others, accepted your fate as a civilian.

The coffee shop felt like a homage to another era, before quirks existed. The small planters bloomed in the window display under your mindful care, without any sparks of magic to enhance their color or growth. The coffee beans that arrived each week were roasted delicately by hand, and each new drink was born from trial and error; no surprising powers of charm or persuasion lured customers to your door. It was an honest life that you were proud of, built with hard work and love.

Ringing up another customer and brewing the earl grey tea for a London Fog, it felt like your head was ringing. Your quirk had never been an active threat to your well-being. You had gained some control over the years, having only been able to tend minor scratches and bruises as a child, but never showed enough promise to be recruited into the medical field as a young teen. Even now, the drawbacks were too great. Healing left you exhausted, and the more extensive the injury, the greater the fatigue.

It wasn’t like you came from a family of fantastic heroes either. Your mother worked as a doctor in a wound care and surgical center because she could clean infected tissue at the expense of the patient’s energy. Your father’s quirk was completely unrelated to your own, allowing him to sculpt metal by heating his hands, albeit without flames. It was hard to believe that the arguably worse version of your mother’s quirk made you a target, but the underlying assumptions behind it sent shivers of fear down your spine. If there was no regard for your well-being, your quirk could be indispensable, could be used to patch anyone up at the expense of draining you dry.

Nevertheless, the hours ticked by, dread worrying the pit of your stomach. Bile rose in the back of your throat the longer your anxious thoughts raced. Without the grace of someone with a more offensive quirk, there was little you could do to defend yourself.

Maybe Bakugou was right to be annoyed, but he didn’t have the right to be such an ass about it. Closing time was only half an hour away, and the customers had dwindled in the shop. The pleasant humming of customers faded, exposing every raw nerve that you had. The last person was out, and at 5:06,

... there was a knock.

Snapping to attention, you jerked towards the doors, feeling a strange mixture of relief and annoyance upon seeing Bakugou waiting by the door. Sighing, you called out, “It’s still unlocked.”

He didn’t enter though. He leaned partially against the window with one hand, the other shoved deep into the pocket of his white jeans. He had the hood up on his black and gold hoodie, but not enough to conceal his distinctive blonde hair and you could have sworn his red eyes could burn a hole through anything as he peered in the window. He must not have heard you, and you steeled your resolve to go and let him in.

“Shitty Hair sent me.” He grumbled.

“Hmm.” You hummed in response, wandering back behind the counter to tuck away the extra bottles of syrup and take down the pastry display. “Make yourself at home then.”

The hero looked even more uncomfortable, his shifting gaze never lingering on anything for too long, before he spotted the bottle of disinfectant. To your surprise, he started wiping off tables, but you don’t breath a word, afraid to break the uncanny silence.

At 5:45, Eijirou, Midoriya, and a woman you could only assume was Uravity knocked, and Bakugou dropped the supplies as if he had been burned. Midoriya was the first to heckle him, teasing “Kacchan, I didn’t know that you could be helpful!”

“I was bored, you damn nerd. That’s all.”

The heroes were almost unrecognizably causal. Uravity and Midoriya were in matching letterman jackets, sky blue and patterned with delicate pink cherry blossoms falling from slender black branches, with Shouto written across the back in a beautiful script. Eijirou was also devastatingly casual, wearing baggy, low-rise black jeans and a white v-neck that dipped dangerously below his collar bones. His long red hair was up in his trademark loose ponytail, spilling over his shoulders and down his back.

“So nice to see you again! I’m Uraraka.” Her smile glowed as she bounced forward to greet you. “It’s nice to really see the place that Kirishima and Bakugo talk so much about.”

A frown creased your features. “I think I would have remembered Bakugou coming in for coffee. Doesn’t Kiri just get his?” You mumbled, panicking as you realized it was out loud.

Thankfully, Uraraka giggled. “No, he just won’t let Kiri get coffee from anywhere else now. I think the whole agency knows his order by now.”

“It’s just the least shitty.” Bakugou growled. “But whatever. I have shit to do, so let’s get this over with.”

“Lead the way.” Midoriya smiled kindly.

The stairs to the flat were in the kitchen, the door tucked out of sight next to a supply closet. Butterflies fluttered in your chest, and a sudden self-consciousness that almost froze you in place. The apartment was an intimate insight into your life and personality. Your reading was on the living room table, and cherished photos hung on the walls. Is my laundry hanging up to dry? You winced at the thought.

“Welcome!” You forced a smile and led them to the kitchen table. “So, what do you need to check out?”

“We’re not trying to invade your privacy more than necessary.” Midoriya looked solemn, glancing at you shyly from underneath his lashes. “I was thinking we should put a camera right in the stairway that faces the entrance, another on the fire escape, and one on the outside of each of your windows. Then, we can just set up a bunch around the café.”

“Oh,” You relaxed into your seat. “That’s not as bad as I was expecting.”

Midoriya and Uraraka were  sitting ram-rod straight at your table, posture stiff and schooled. Eijirou was examining your end table in the living room, carefully turning your favorite candle in his hands, while Bakugou trailed behind like a sullen shadow.

“We just want to make sure you’re safe.” Uraraka reassured. “We’ll probably change the patrol route to make sure that we stop by here, but we won’t be in the shop every time. If nothing is weird, we’ll leave you be after a while.”

“I’m glad.” The remaining tension left your shoulders, and you let out a sigh of relief. “I really don’t want to put my life on pause. I’ve worked really hard for what I have here. “

“Of course!” Eijirou looked over his shoulder, now surveying the sliding glass door that led to the fire escape. “This is the best place in town, and I don’t think I’ll ever stay awake through another Commission meeting without my usual again. Plus, we owe you big time. It’s our fault that you’re starting to get some media attention.”

“Do the cameras need plug-ins or batteries?” You asked cautiously.

“Nah,  they’re the special surveillance ones Chargebolt rigged, and we’ll get a notification if the battery is less than 25%. We’ve just gotta get them set up. Uraraka can up to stick them, then make ‘em weightless so they don’t fall down.”

At Eijirou’s words, you could see Uraraka tapping her fingers, jumping up to stick the device to the ceiling. With a frown of concentration, she pulled out her phone, checking the feed and fiddling with the camera until it was angled to her satisfaction before drifting back to the floor.

“We can take it from here. Feel free to go back to closing, or what you usually do in the evening. Don’t be afraid to let us know if you need anything.” Midoriya nodded before excitedly leaning in closer, eyes sparkling with the enthusiasm of a little kid. “Also, at some point, can I study your quirk? I keep notebooks of all different quirks I encounter, and yours is so interesting.”

“Shut your trap, nerd!” Bakugou growled from behind Eijirou, who jumped and clutched his partner’s arm. “Stop acting like we’re at the damn zoo. Save it for later.”

“Am not, Kacchan!” Midoriya whined. Turning to you, he put up his hands in a peace gesture. “I think we better get going, though. I think today’s probably been quite the day for you. Uraraka will set those up outside, and we’ll be out of your hair.”

Snagging Bakugou’s sleeve, Midoriya pulled him unwillingly down the stairs, with Uraraka having already moved on to install the security cameras in the café. Despite his tough front, the blonde didn’t fight too much, only grimacing and batting away the other hero’s hand as they left.

“Hey Kiri,” You said nervously, before the hero had the chance to follow his teammates out of your apartment. “Thanks for having Bakugou come over to be there while I was closing. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about what you guys said this morning. I just feel so uneasy, like every stranger could be dangerous and I can’t do anything to save myself. It really set my mind at ease to have someone else there.”

“I bet.” He winced with sympathy. “But I didn’t ship Bakugou out here. He volunteered, and you didn't hear that from me.”

[timerainseternal]

New theory: the amount that the Hargeeeves' powers are confusing to me specifically is directly correlated to the amount of impact they have on the plot.

To be clear, I'm not talking about how much they break the laws of the universe. This is just a Certified Silly Post and I do not have the brainpower to debate whether monster tummy, Very Convincing, spooky scary skeletons, or the ability to manipulate physics in a very specific way, is the most glitch-inducing. Nor am I talking about how much we don't understand about the powers, just what we do know about them and how consistent they are with the stated power. (Could Diego yeet the moon into the Earth? The world may never know.) Basically, as I watched the show, how much my brain said "that works for me, I guess" is the metric I'm working off of. They're also grouped together, since I couldn't decide on a 1-7 scale, so there are instead three levels of confusing and plot-relevant. This is also entirely memory-based, so I may miss things, and does not account for the character's importance to the plot, only the power's.

The Completely Understandable:

Luther: Strong and Tough™ are not confusing, and nor are they brought up very often. A chandelier fell on him, he punched some things, but like, what did that change, plotwise? Not much.

Diego: Again, this one only sort of gets used, like with the bullets and all, but it's also not really a plot changer. We know he can change the trajectory of thrown objects, which is fairly straightforward to see and understand. Like in my moon example, we don't know how far that extends, but while there are a lot of questions about his powers, what is directly shown is neither too confusing or too contradictory to our understanding. I've seen people curve soccer balls before, and bullets and knives are not different enough from one another to surprise me when he switches.

Ben: Now, you may be wondering why this is here and not later, but that is because we are Not discussing logistics here. I do not know how this power works in terms of physics, and I do not know where the tentacles are when they're not out. However, Ben's power isn't confusing, practically speaking. Open chest: boom, tentacles. It's also not plot relevant because he's dead (oops), though if losing control was how he died it's a bit more important. That's conjecture though, and should be stricken from the record.

A Bit Weird, But I Get It:

Klaus: I'm gonna be honest, I debated where to put Klaus. His power is a major driving force behind his personal plot, but his personal plot doesn't tend to impact the course of events as a whole too much (sorry, Klaus). I guess it gives us Ben, which is nice, but also he's very rarely plot relevant since he's, you know, dead. Also Klaus' powers grow as he sobers up and practices, so it's pretty inconsistent, but given a general understanding of how ghosts work in media there's nothing too out of the realm of understanding. I'm...not sure how much of the Little Girl putting him back on Earth is part of his power--like whether his power annoys her or if he just does that through sheer force of personality--so I'm just...not gonna touch the strange not-immortality that is seemingly not caused by his own doing. In short, if ghosts were just dropped on us without general media context, he'd be way up there, but since it's not, and since the power averages out to kinda plot-important but not completely, I put him here.

Allison: Rumors are obviously very important to the plot as a whole, both in Allison's personal journey and with they key rumors of repressing Vanya's powers and then of being throat-slashed. This normally wouldn't line up with how confusing her power is--mind control is pretty understandable so long as we put away the questions about how it works--but the scene that really boggles me is the "I heard a rumor I blew your mind" part. Like, what? I thought it was just make a person do a thing they can do, not making brain explosions! What is that!!! I know it's in the doomed timeline, but it still counts as a thing she can do. Theoretically I could use this one example to put her in the next category because of how many questions it opens up, but Five and Vanya are so plot important and confusing that they are a class on their own, so Allison gets to be with Klaus on this one in the kinda plot-important, kinda strange section.

The Utterly Wild:

Five: On the surface, Five's powers kinda make sense, except that they don't because the Umbrella Academy categorically refuses to make rules about time travel. Time-travelling back made him thirteen! And also made his siblings briefly children again too, unless that was a metaphor! How does changing the past change the future? How does it change your personal past? He can just completely rewind everything, which is sort of fine except that it also rewound and unshot him, even though he should still be travelling forward in his personal timeline! Also his powers run out even though nobody else's seem to, and maybe if they explained why that happened with even one line I could let it go but they have not! And my, oh my, the plot relevance of Five's powers. They are there to solve everything and kick off the plot, and also create problems on accident. Very confusing in the presentation of the power's rules, and very plot-relevant.

Vanya: Oh, Vanya, destroyer of worlds. Her powers are the exact opposite of Five's in terms of plot: there to ruin everything and end the plot, and also solve things on accident. They are the thing the plot is working to stop, so they're very important. They're also wild. Okay, sure, turning sound into energy, that's fine, I can play ball. Blowing up the moon, sure, that just takes a lot of energy. Destroying the world in the original timeline to a level where things are not absolutely atomized nearby, but also it seems like absolutely everyone is dead, and that's only with an energy blast or something? That's...hard to figure out exactly how it got done, but I guess that's fine. Holding up your siblings with weird energy beams as your skin and eyes are bleached white? Uh... Using your sound-based powers to heal a drowned child and gIVE HIM POWERS TOO??? WHAT? WHAT?????? VANYA WHAT ARE YOU DOING???????

So, in conclusion, the plot relevance of a power is directly correlated to how absolutely bonkers it is. People are free to disagree with my ranking, especially since I did rank this under the caveat of "not touching how any of this works," but I think it's pretty funny that the more the writers have to use a power in the plot, the more they freak out and slap extra stuff onto it and absolutely refuse to explain any inconsistencies that arise. (This is a very fun show to analyze at 3am.)