#i need to see girls ignoring the supposedly main guy or the whole group

[claire-de-lune]

Had to write this in response to this post. Because I’m quite annoyed. 🤷🏻‍♀️

Do you know why I despise some byler fans? Because you guys use the excuse of people dismissing queer ships and political correctness to continue your misogyny and delusions. And don’t get me wrong I’m sure there are a small percent of homophobes out there who dislike byler for that reason and that not all of you that ship byler even think this way. But you guys continue to ignore that we do not dislike byler because it’s a gay ship, I personally have shipped many gay couples over the years, Evak, sobbe, elu, crisana, Connor and Oliver from how to get away with murder and MANY many more just go on my blog and check, or because we fear that it’ll be canon because there is so much “evidence” (literally none and trust me it will not, like we don’t even care the slightest bit). But what we do dislike is how your guys’ shipping byler and wanting them endgame, and seeing your posts on the daily are no matter what your intention, inadvertently or purposefully belittling the main protagonist of the show who has suffered her whole life until she found someone who loves her, and all we see is posts about how literally none of it was real, how he only loved her for a tiny while then all of sudden stopped or some of you say he never did, or he only liked her because she looked like a boy and was in love with Will all along. It truly is disgusting and cringeworthy to see your posts (not because you ship a gay couple, I have too, but the message behind your shipping and philosophy of Mike leaving El after all this to be with her brother who he’s been in love with all along). And to think El who has basically been on her own her entire life in a lab needs more time to be alone and grow is just COMICAL. being alone is the complete opposite of what she needs. She needs love and support and a family and romantic love like any girl her age wants and she doesn’t need any more independence and being alone after literally 12/13 years of it. She now needs FAMILIAL LOVE , PLATONIC LOVE, And LAST BUT NOT LEAST ROMANTIC LOVE. She needs to be normal. And Yes the small headcanons and fanarts are cute, but the passionate ones in your group who genuinely believe life is that simple and a boy would leave his gf for his best friend that he’s supposedly been in love with all along have a rude awakening waiting for you in real life. Like re-evaluate you’re way of thinking and views. I beg of you. No matter how much you come into our tag and say mileven is fake and byler will be endgame, we won’t change our minds and neither will the Duffers. So stay in your little tag and write your fanfics and draw your fanart, but for the love of god, chill the fuck out. Also at the end of the day not everyone needs to like your ship.

#mileven #stranger things #anti byler

[itsnotworkinguys]

i miss songs and kpop mvs where the whole group chases the girl and she's either unbothered, walking away or stare at them like "I'm still not interested"

#please bring this back #i need to see girls ignoring the supposedly main guy or the whole group #they had that deadpan look while the members sing and rap in front of her face #seventeen did have a few #teen top #mblaq #infinite #c-clown #big bang #2pm #nu'est #b.a.p #2am #omg #shinee #bigstar #myname #b1a4 #i need more dramatic ass mvs #2nd gen kpop stans where are you #3rd gen stans too #i can't recall everything but yeah #kpop #kpop reactions

[kanerallels]

Donicus Crossover ATLA (PLEASE ADD TOPH PLZ PLZ PLZ) Thank you!!!

It would be my honor-- here goes nothing lol!!!

Pairing: Marcus Lanum/Idony St. Claire

Word count: ??? I'm on mobile rn, I'll update this later. Somewhere in the 1000s

Tags/Warning: G rating (for glaring, at Marcus, from Noah). One minor injury and a little blood

Getting lost in Republic City was no joke. The place was absolutely huge, with a lot of streets and different buildings. It was also decidedly unhelpful when some people in your group (Berlyne, Apen and Noah) wanted to go watch pro-bending, while others (Marcus, Enel and Idony) wanted to find the library. (Chara and Joe were undecided.)

“I could have sworn we should have turned left back there,” Marcus muttered, studying the map he was holding. The whole group had paused on a street corner, and he and Apen were studying the map, trying to figure out where they were. Berlyne and Noah were nearby, mostly making unhelpful comments as Enel and Chara ignored the whole proceedings while excitedly pointing out parts of the city to each other.

As for Idony, she had her arm tucked around Marcus’s, her head tilted up towards the sunlight as she listened to the city. Marcus paused a moment to look away from the map at her, seeing the way the sun glinted off her golden curls and a soft smile turned up the corners of her mouth.

Then he saw Noah shoot him a glare, and hastily redirected his attention to the map, just as Apen shook his head. “No, we were supposed to go straight-- if that’s even where we are. I think we’re on this street.” He jabbed a finger at a different spot on the map.

“Impossible,” Marcus protested. “We passed the candy store on Main Street-- that was where we got off track in the first place because Enel was trying to drag us in there.”

“Yeah, and we went east instead of north.”

“No, we--”

Berlyne let out an exasperated sigh. “You guys have been arguing about this for the past ten minutes. Why don’t we just ask for directions again?”

“We don’t need them!” Marcus said, lifting the map. “I can figure out where we’re going. Now, where did we turn past the police station again?”

“I’m with Berlyne,” Irony said to Marcus’s dismay. “We should just ask how to get there. Enel!”

The copper-haired boy turned from the fire hydrant he and Chara were admiring. “Yeah?”

“Would you and Chara find someone who can give us directions, please?”

“On it!” Enel promptly darted out into the street with Chara on his heels. He’d barely made it two steps when Marcus heard someone shout, “STOP!!”

Chara froze, and Enel, who did not stop, slammed straight into the source, a tan-skinned young man around Marcus’s age. He had a ponytail, although his hair was shaved at the sides, and wore a blue tunic and pants and blue fingerless gloves. At his side he wore a long sword that Marcus recognized from his reading as a jian, and on his back was a strangely triangular-shaped sheath of some kind.

He squinted at Enel. “Oh. Good news, guys, he’s not actually on fire. That’s just his hair.”

“Which is exactly what we told you,” pointed out one of his other two companions. They were both girls around his own age-- one in green robes and armor, her face painted completely white, with red above the eyes and along her lips. The other girl was younger and a little shorter, clad in what looked to be a green jumpsuit of some kind, with a pale yellow overtunic. She was shoeless for some reason, and her bangs hung loose over her eyes, which-- Marcus did a double take-- were filmed over in a similar manner to Idony. Was this girl blind, too?

Shrugging, Berlyne said, “Well, it’s an understandable mistake when it comes to Enel.”

Enel shot her a wounded look as Apen blurted out, “Wait-- are you a Kyoshi warrior?” He was staring at the girl in white makeup, who looked surprised.

“I am,” she said.

“I’ve read about those,” Marcus said, his eyes widening. “Named for the mythical Avatar Kyoshi, who supposedly founded them. You’re made up entirely of women and wield weaponized fans.”

“I heard stories about you growing up,” Apen said, his eyes going glassy as he clearly slipped back to the past. “My si-- uh, people I knew hero worshipped you guys.”

“We’re honored, in that case,” the girl said with a smile. “I’m Suki. This is Sokka of the Water Tribe, and Toph Beifong.”

“Beifong? As in Lao Beifong, the business man?” Apen asked.

Folding her arms, Toph said, “No, as in Toph Beifong, greatest earthbender in the world. Get that in your head, short stuff.”

“Hey!” Apen looked offended as Toph whipped out an arm, pointing directly at Marcus.

“As for you, yes, I’m blind. Stop staring or I’ll throw you in the ocean. I have pretty great range as an earthbender, you know.”

“I wasn’t staring,” Marcus protested, and Sokka chuckled.

“First mistake-- Toph can sense when you’re lying.” Leaning over to Apen, he said, “She really is the best earthbender ever. Don’t tell her I said it, though, it would only go to her head.”

“I can hear you, bozo,” Toph said flatly.

“Oops.”

Swatting Marcus’s shoulder, Idony said, “Marcus! That’s rude! But-- you’re blind, too?”

“‘Too?’” Toph echoed.

“Oh, yeah-- Idony’s blind,” Enel said helpfully. “She’s with Marcus.” He punctuated the “with Marcus” by wiggling his eyebrows aggressively.

Choosing to ignore him, Marcus said, “I didn’t mean to be rude, I was just surprised--”

“Don’t care,” Toph said, waving a hand dismissively, and Noah snorted.

“I might actually be starting to like this earthbender. Here’s a question-- can you actually launch someone into the harbor, and do I have to choose between Enel and Marcus?”

“Noah!” Idony said, irritation flashing across her face. “You’re not launching them anywhere.”

Noah grumbled something under his breath, and Berlyne snickered.

“Better luck next time. You’ll just have to do it yourself.”

“You two are my kind of people,” Toph said with a grin. “Okay-- wanna see something cool?”

“Sure,” Berlyne said, looking intrigued.

Taking a wide, firm stance, Toph took a long deep breath. Then, lifting one of her feet up, she slammed it back down into the pavement at the same time as she jerked her hands upwards. A spire of rock shot up out of the ground at Sokka’s feet, catapulting him into the air. He let out a yelp of horror. “TOPH! NOT AGAIN!!!”

Gasps of shock flew around the ground, but Suki and Toph seemed unbothered. With another earthbending move, Toph brought another spire of rock out of the ground, catching Sokka a few feet from the ground. He let out a grunt. “Ow…”

“You’re fine,” Toph said, waving a hand dismissively. “Nothing’s even broken.”

“True. Maybe warn me next time you shoot me into the air, though?” Sokka suggested, sliding off of the rock formation and onto the ground. “And also please put our city’s streets back the way they were.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Toph grumbled, bringing the rock towers back into the ground. They disappeared seamlessly, and she shrugged. “Well, it wasn’t the Earth Rumble, but still fun.”

“Wait-- did you compete in the Earth Rumble?” Berlyne demanded, and Toph smirked.

“Please, I owned the Earth Rumble. All those pansies went crying home once I was done.”

“Technically also true,” Sokka agreed. “I was there.”

“Tell me everything,” Berlyne demanded, and Marcus released a long suffering sigh.

Looking at Suki, he said, “I don’t suppose you’d be willing to give us directions? We’re trying to get to the library.”

“Pro-bending,” Apen corrected.

Grinning, Suki said, “I’ll see what I can do.”

The three of them moved to the side as Sokka began to give a play-by-play of the Earth Rumble, with Toph occasionally re-enacting moves. Finally, they were fairly certain they had a route mapped out.

“Okay,” Marcus was saying, “so we turn right here--”

He was cut off halfway through as Toph’s latest earth bending move sent rocks flying in their direction. One cracked into Marcus’s temple, and he crashed to the ground with a yelp of pain.

He heard a shout of concern that was probably Enel’s, a snort of amusement that was definitely Noah, and then Idony called his name.

“Marcus!”

She was by his side seconds later, kneeling next to him. “Are you okay?” she asked, a gentle hand touching the side of his face.

His eyes lingering on her face, Marcus felt his heart rate pick up slightly. “I’m, uh, better now,” he managed. “Much better.”

A smile crossed Idony’s face. “You must have been hit hard to be flirting in front of my brother.” Leaning down, she planted a kiss on his forehead, and if Marcus hadn’t been seeing stars before, he was now. “That always makes it better,” she told him.

“Definitely,” Marcus agreed.

He heard a strangled noise from above them, and glanced up to see Apen pointedly looking away from him. “Uh, you okay?” he asked, a slight grin crossing his face.

“You’re way too entertained by this, aren’t you?” Marcus said with exasperation.

“Maybe a little.”

As Apen and Idony helped Marcus to his feet, Sokka came hurrying over. “Ooh, that looks like a nasty cut,” he said, and Marcus lifted a hand to his temple, feeling blood. “Tell ya what, we’ll have my sister Katara look at it. She’s an expert healer with her water bending-- DEFINITELY don’t tell her I said that.”

“Wait,” Apen said, his eyes growing even wider. “Your sister is KATARA???”

"The famous healer?" Marcus said, impressed.

Letting out a groan, Toph said, "If they start swooning over someone every five minutes, it's gonna be a long day."

"And they don't even know that Katara's boyfriend is the Avatar," Sokka observed.

"He's WHAT???" Apen gaped at them.

"Yup. Swooning," Toph said with a sigh. Shooting Marcus and Idony-- who was still standing very close to him-- a look, she added, "And that's not even the only kind of swooning around her."

Noah looked like he wanted to gag, and Marcus almost protested. But then Idony slipped her hand into his, and. Well. Toph wasn't exactly far off. And he definitely didn't mind.

#marcus lanum #idony st. claire #donicus #the silver eye fan fic #the silver eye webcomic #tse #the silver eye #111 followers celebration #it was dope. the end

[generalfoolish]

Feel The Heat

Part Four: Fragile Bird

Rating: 18+ (minors take a hike)

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, more past relationship stuff, meddling friends, general anxiety stuff

Word count: ~2.5k

Pairing: Frankie “Fish” Morales x OC Juniper Collins

Summary: June attends a Benny Miller Fight

A/N: Hey babes! Sorry for the delay! #MandoMay2021 has ruined my brain. Enjoy, anyway 💕

Masterlist | Part Three | Part Five

June was kicking herself the whole way to school. She felt so foolish. As fast as the fear and anxiety had set in, it had dissipated. She didn’t know what was true and what her mind was twisting to fit into the worst-case scenarios she had construed. It felt impossible to pick herself out of the rut of her mind.

But then, she wasn’t sure she wanted to. Maybe she was spiraling for a reason. Her last relationship had imploded, and it was beyond messy. She was aware, better than most, that things weren’t always what they seemed.

June parked her car, and went inside. She was early. But, at least inside her classroom she could shut the door and really think things through. That shred of privacy was what she needed, June decided as she jogged to the main building. She entered the security code, but locked the door back behind her.

Once in her room, she dropped her bag on her desk and sat down heavily.

Time to tell yourself some hard truths, June:

Terry was your fiancé. He left you at the altar. And took your dog.

Terry had kept the honeymoon tickets and went on the trip with another girl.

And that girl was one of your bridesmaids, and supposedly, a good friend.

Terry had made some really sketchy moves behind your back and fucked you out of a lot of money and left you reliant on your family and friends.

It was years ago, and you aren’t over it. You hate Terry, but you have a big, gaping whole where your heart should be and it’s filled with sadness and hate.

But you really like Frankie.

You really, really like Frankie.

June swallowed hard, and pulled her phone out. She keyed open her texts and typed a long message out. Then deleted it. Then re-worded and re-typed. Then deleted it again.

A knock at the door broke the spell. Sam stuck her head in, and gave a pitiful smile.

“Hey, lady…” June nodded her into the room.

“Morning, Sam.”

“Sorry, about setting you up on such a bad date.” June’s facade slipped into a frown.

“How do you know it ended badly?” Sam’s mouth pressed into a thin line.

“Weeeeell, Santiago told me a few minutes ago.” June looked at her phone’s time and groaned. Frankie worked fast.

“It didn’t end the best. It’s my fault.”

“I want to make it up to you!”

“I can’t go out tonight.” She told Sam, already shaking her head. June was feeling a little more hungover than she normally liked on a Wednesday morning at seven a.m.

“Not tonight, silly. Friday night!” Sam perched on her desk, and beamed down. “I doubt you have plans then.” She added with a playful wink.

“I was going to grade.” June told her flatly.

“Great! You’ll come with us.”

“Us?” June asked, her tone skeptical.

“Yeah, it’s a fight? It’s one of Santi’s friends.” June knitted her eyebrows together in disbelief.

“I don’t think that’s a great idea.”

“Fish isn’t going.” Sam told her, like that solved every issue.

“It’s still very third-wheelish. Grading isn’t glamorous, but it beats going on a date with you and your boyfriend.” June told her with a laugh.

“It won’t just be us! Will and his wife, and Ben, but he’s fighting.”

“So...fifth wheeling?”

“Or, maybe you hit it off with Ben!” June gaped at her.

“You aren’t trying to set me up with another guy in this friend group are you?” The dust hadn’t even settled from last night.

“Oh no. He is hot though. Maybe just get you finally laid?” June scoffed.

“Santi tell you that too?”

“Ha! No, I just guessed. You don’t seem like the type to put out on the first date.” June flushed at the comment, trying to not remember what she had said to Frankie.

“I’ll think about coming.” June told her, after a beat of silence. Sam clapped, and made her way to the door.

“Junie, I am sorry it didn’t work out.” June nodded and smiled. Sam meant well, even if her presence had distracted June from her text. She only had a few minutes before kids would show up, and she wasn’t sure what to say.

Anything was better than nothing.

“I’m sorry. Hope you’ll let me explain.”

~~~

June adjusted her t-shirt when she got out of her car. She couldn’t believe that Sam had actually talked her into coming out. Especially, considering it was Frankie’s friends. Especially, since Frankie hadn’t said anything back to her text. She hesitated beside her car door, and settled on just leaving. Why had she even come at all?

“June! I’m glad you came!” Busted. June looked over to see Sam sliding out of a large pick up. Sam ran over and hugged her tightly. “Relax!” She told June’s tense shoulders.

“Hey!” A man called out from the other side of the truck. “That wasn’t even in park, lady.” That must be Santiago, June thought. Sam was right, he was attractive. Heat crept up June’s neck at some of the stories Sam had shared.

“You were stopped, Santi.” Sam told him, rolling her eyes. “This is June, June this is Santiago.” June smiled shyly, hoping beyond hope that she wasn’t about to get raked over hot coals for what happened with Frankie. Instead, Santi smiled warmly.

“Nice to put a lovely face to a lovely name.” He told her, a bright smile dancing on his lips. A charmer, for sure.

“You too. Sam speaks highly of you.” He laughed, a warm, chuckle.

“I’m sure it was too much. Will and Becka are already inside, if you guys want to head in.” Santi placed a hand on Sam’s lower back and led the entourage inside. To June’s surprise they headed straight for the locker room. Two men and a woman were standing in the room, talking in hushed tones when they walked in.

“Santi!” The younger man called out, he must have been the fighter, the only one in gym clothes. Ben, June thought, trying to recall his name.

“Benny! You remember Sam, of course!” Benny, or Ben, smiled brightly and nodded, before whisking her up in a hug. When his eyes landed on June, the smile faltered.

“I thought Fish was with the kids.” June turned, wide-eyed to Sam, who shook her head quickly. “Oh, well, June, right?” He recovered, extending his hand. June took his hand reluctantly, but cut her eyes to Sam all the same. What was this?

“Well, we’re going to find the seats, you boys can give him the pep talk alone.” The woman, who must have been Becka, announced.

“That was weird, huh?” Sam asked, laughing.

“Yeah, real weird.” Becka agreed, looping her arms through both Sam and June’s.

“What’s going on?” June asked, her throat feeling tight.

“Well, you’ve been bummed out about your date.” Sam started.

“And, Frankie has been inconsolable.” Becka finished.

“Is that right? He never responded to my text. I asked him to let me explain, he just didn’t give me a chance.” June kept her arm in place, but felt her heart beating faster. This had been a disaster. Why would she inject herself into a situation where she was surrounded by people who knew Frankie intimately.

The hall ended in the arena, and June slipped behind Becka and Sam. Whatever answers they had were held off because of the blaring music and loud chatter. June hadn’t really expected such a crowd. It seemed Benny was a popular fighter. Becka led the group to a roped off section near the ring, and dropped heavily into a chair.

“Will’s grabbing drinks. Beer, okay?” Becka asked, peeking around Sam to June.

“Yeah, a Corona or Modelo.” June answered. She’d have to remember to venmo money to Becka later. Or just make Sam cover her, for dragging her here in the first place.

“So, what’s going on?” June asked again, leaning in closely to Sam.

“Don’t get mad,” Sam started, smiling wolfishly. June squeezed her eyes shut. This was a setup. “It’s just so you can talk!” Sam added, defensively.

“This is a horrible place to talk.”

“You agreed to come. It was pretty obvious, right?” Becka added, laughing. June groaned, knowing well that Becka had a point. The whole night had felt staged, and yet, here she was anyway.

“I tried to talk to him.” June argued, ignoring Becka’s comment.

“Better in person, I guess.” A gruff voice sounded behind her. She turned quickly and tried to keep her composure. Frankie.

He looked good, she thought, her eyes grazing over him. Another flannel, another cap, but he was working them out. His scruff seemed fuller, and she wondered if he’d been sleeping well, the dark circles under his eyes told her probably not.

“That’s right!” Becka laughed, grabbing her drink.

~~~

It was a set up. Frankie saw her from far away, and his throat dried up immediately. She looked amazing, all tight jeans and t-shirt. That ponytail, he was in trouble.

He hadn’t done a great job of responding to her attempts to talk. To sort things out. He was still burned from the morning after nothing happened.

A phone call to Santi that morning had confirmed his suspicions. What had happened was weird. Santi took some time to dig up intel on her, and Frankie felt a little weird about it. Until, that was, he saw what she’d been through. He could understand her hesitancy. But what he couldn’t scrub from his mind was how she had looked on top of him, pupils blown wide with lust. How she’d sounded wrecked when she asked him to fuck her, fuck him out of her system, she’d said. He had spent a lot of time in the shower, and in the dark of his bedroom, thinking about that.

But, he still hadn’t answered her. He didn’t know how. He had felt like he had had a door slammed in his face, and was hesitant to knock again. There was no guarantee that she wouldn’t pull away again, and he didn’t want that. He wanted to be let in, and he wanted her.

When the boys asked him to a fight, he had agreed immediately. Becka called in the sitter, and it would be a good break from the hard work of the farm, he had told himself. It wasn’t until he was holding as many cups of beer as he could carry, and he was staring at June that he realized it was a setup.

He didn’t know if she knew, and it didn’t matter. If she was here, that meant something. What, he wasn’t sure yet, but definitely something. He felt his ears start to burn as he approached, and heard the conversation was on him. Him ignoring her.

“Better in person, I guess.” He said, attempting to offer an olive branch. June looked like she was about to pass out. She was as clueless as him. But, her eyes on him were more hungry than anything.

“That’s right!” Becka laughed, and grabbed a beer from him. He handed one to Sam, and offered one to June. She took it hesitantly, fingers brushing his against the wet cup.

“Outside?” He asked, glancing at the watch on his forearm. There was plenty of time until Benny fought, and he had a growing suspicion that she wasn’t actually all that into the idea of a fight. He led her outside, his hand hovering on her lower back. Partially, because he didn’t want to lose her in the crowd, but mostly because he wanted to be close to her. It was driving him crazy.

In the parking lot, she whirled on him. Her beer sloshed a little, but she didn’t seem to notice the drink on her fingers.

“I’m sorry for the morning, but why didn’t you say anything?” She asked, tone more hurt than the indignant she was going for. He gaped. He didn’t have an answer. Not the time to respond reactively, though. This was already a mess.

“I thought some time would help.” He told her quietly. He was way out of his depth. She paused, not having anticipated a level response from him.

“It might have.” She conceded. He wished he could read her mind. “I am sorry. You’re the first person I’ve felt anything more than passing attraction for since my ex. It was messy. I thought I was past it. Clearly, I’m not. I think that things happened quickly, and it freaked me out. And I thought about when we first met, and…” He grimaced, knowing what she was thinking. He hadn’t given her a great first impression. Or second, or third.

He realized, dumbly, that he had been thinking the worst of her, but she had seen the worst of him. He reached out, not thinking, and rubbed her cheek.

“I’m sorry. Let’s just take it slow. I don’t mind waiting, but I have to kiss you now. Is that okay?” He tried to swallow the lump in his throat, and was vaguely aware that it made his voice raspy. It didn’t matter, all that mattered, was that June nodded. He smiled and leaned down to kiss her.

#frankie morales #frankie catfish morales #Frankie Morales x f!oc #Frankie Morales x oc #triple frontier #triple frontier fic #triple frontier oc #Pedro pascal

[emileeknow]

Infiltration - Part 1

Paring : Reader x Mafia!Doyoung

Genre: Angst + fluff  |  Words : 5K

Warnings :  Mentions of illegal activity (drugs/weapons) Mentions/Descriptions of Violence. Abusive language directed towards reader.

-

NCT. 

The only mafia group that was superior to your own. Your boss was determined to take them down, but they were good, too smart to infiltrate and too large to eliminate completely. They had subunits across the country and there were rumours of them having a team in China.

Your boss Mr Kim, you still didn’t know his actual name, had been trying to find a way to get a man on the inside for months but to no avail. You had also been thinking.

Running a club gave you a surprising amount of time to think. When Mr kim had approved your proposal of a club that multiple gangs could go to, he probably thought you would have a lot more work on your hands, but you didn’t really have that many issues.

The club had been your idea and it serves its purpose. It was ‘supposedly’ independent of all gangs. No one knew it was linked to the gang, not even the gang itself. The dancers you employed and the security staff all answer to you. Nobody except a select few knew who you answered to, so no one suspected you were a member of SVT.

SVT was one of the larger gangs, but only a select few operated undercover in the club. When the other members would come in, they would pretend not to know the undercover team as anyone more than workers there to serve them, as to not arouse the suspicions of the other patrons, who would likely belong to rival gangs.

The dancers were good at their jobs, and you paid them well, made sure to look out for them and in return they told you everything their customers told them. It was amazing what secrets men would spill with the slightest glimpse of skin. You had a large variety of dancers under your control, you could cater to many tastes which is what made your club so popular.

Most of your workers don’t know about the gang, they think that they just have to ‘keep tabs on all the gangs so we can ensure a peaceful business’ which wasn’t technically a lie.

Only you, Seungcheol, Mingyu and Mr Kim knew the clubs real purpose, which is what made it the perfect operation. If no one knew what they were actually doing, they are honest and therefore not suspicious to outsiders.

The club was a place for rival gang members to meet with each other for negotiations, they thought of  it as neutral territory, no one suspected that you were watching and feeding information back to one of the largest gangs in the country.

You had to be selective with what you returned to your superior, if the gang started acting on all leads it would become suspicious. The clubs main purpose, was to fund the gang and keep an ear to the ground on other gang business, make sure no one was plotting anything against SVT.

Most of the time the information was just some gun deals or drug imports. Nice to know, but nothing of immense value to the group.

Despite this you were always on the lookout for a lead that would reap big rewards for the gang. Until then you were quite happy for the change of scenery from field missions.

You enjoyed being out in the field, but after your last mission and the toll it took on you physically, you needed time to rest. You had been resting for the past few months and were itching for your net to catch something bigger than a minor drug deal.

That's why, when you were watching the CCTV in your office and saw that three members of NCT had walked in and occupied a table at the back of the club, your eyes glued themselves to the screen.

You knew all of their faces.

After all your entire business was dealing in information. You had done your research on SVT’s main rivals. So there was no doubt in your mind that the men on the screen were Johnny, Jaehyun and Doyoung.

The three were high up in NCT’s rank, not at the top but high enough for them to be worth your time.

You quickly turned on the mic that was hidden in the wall of their booth, eager to listen in on this conversation.

-

“Don’t look at me like that Doyoung?”

“I don’t see why we had to come here” Doyoung sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. He was looking at the table, his gaze so intense it could burn hole in the center.

“Well, get used to it, if I have to stay in the area for some stupid stakeout, I’m going to stay somewhere I can enjoy myself” Johnny states, relaxing into the soft leather seat.

“We have our own club you can go to whenever you want” Doyoung states.

“Yeah on the other side of the city, this one is not gang controlled so what’s the problem. Anyway you hate our club”

“I hate all clubs” Doyoung rolls his eyes before walking over to the bar.

Jaehyun and Johnny turned their attention to the stage, watching intently as the dancers performed. They didn’t seem to be saying much so you turned your attention to Doyoung who had  moved over to sit at the otherwise empty bar. It was like he was trying not to look at any of the women who were parading round with little clothes on. You noted he didn’t seem interested in any of the shirtless waiters either.

When Stephanie was serving him his drink he was looking anywhere but her body.

It was an unusual sight to see. The men that came in here were usually desperate to give the girls their undivided attention but Doyoung looked like he wanted to look anywhere else.

When Stephanie handed him his drink his eyes did not once stray from her face to her chest. She had a beautiful figure, one most men would drool over. Which is why Doyoung’s reluctance to look at it intrigued you.

You knew that he had never been seen to be with a woman, unless he was keeping them hidden from the gang scene. Given the industry you were in it wouldn’t surprise you. Having outsiders you cared about put them in danger.

You knew women threw themselves at him all the time with the intention of sleeping with him, however he would ignore all of them. Maybe he was just traditional or maybe he wasn’t interested in sex, which was why he hated strip clubs like yours.

It got you thinking. Maybe he didn’t like the clubs because the stipulation was that they were abusive to women. The girls were trapped in contracts that forced them to display their bodies for next to none of the money they bring in. You knew NCT’s club worked under that business model. It was the case for most of the clubs in the city, but not yours.

Your girls are free to leave whenever they want and you don’t specify the outfits they wear. While most chose to stick to fancy lingerie sets of bras and panties, some of your girls wore corsets that covered a little more. You wanted them to be comfortable and dance because they wanted to, not because their fathers owed money, or they witnessed the wrong thing.

Although Doyoung didn’t need to know that.

Maybe he was too gentlemanly for his perception of strip clubs, maybe he had a girlfriend hidden away. Or maybe, he just wasn't attracted to women, which was fine but for the plan you were formulating in your mind, you were hoping for the first option. As you put together the puzzle pieces in your mind, it dawned on you that this could be your chance to get close to NCT.

You called Seungcheol into your office.

He was your stand in. To the outside eyes of your patrons he was the one in charge. You usually monitored the night from your office. All your employees knew you were in charge, but you had come to the decision to have Seungcheol be the frontman.

Gang Members were more likely to respect him than they were you. You didn’t exactly look the most intimidating most of the time. Although your skills meant you could be quite deadly if you wished.

When he walked the floor he had a stern look of someone not to be messed with. He was big on security, and quick to jump in if one of the girls was being troubled.

-

“I have an idea about how to infiltrate NCT” you start once he had shut the door.

“What is it?” He looks intrigued as he goes to sit on the couch in front of your desk.

“Doyoung”

“The guy sat at the bar who has shown no interest in any of the girls?” he laughs “They don’t work on him”  

“Exactly” you smile

“I’m confused”

“He sees this place to be the typical club, a seedy place that exploits women into making more money for rich men”

“How does that help seduce him?”

“We aren't going to seduce him. At least not in the conventional way”

“He’ll be suspicious of anyone trying to get close to him.” Seungcheol continued to look at you with a confused expression, unsure of where you could possibly be going with this.

“So we get him to get close to me”

“How?”

“By saving me from this club, after all I am a mere damsel in distress”  you pout making your eyes look as big and innocent as possible as if to prove your point. You relax your face before continuing “Nobody here has seen me, they don’t know who I am. I will stay behind the bar and put on an act, even if he’s not looking he will hear what is going on.” You start to think out loud as the plan formulates more clearly in your mind.

“I need you to sell the asshole boss thing. Not all at once though, it needs to be discreet to the rest of the club, since we have regulars in tonight, but obvious to him. He needs to think that I am trapped here against my will. Switch the mic on the bar so that we can keep our stories straight. I heard they are staking out a shop over the road. So we have one, possibly two nights to plant this seed. If he takes the bait we can move from there. ”

“And if he doesn’t bite?”

“Then we haven’t lost anything. He doesn’t know about the gang or that this was a plan, it just meant I was wrong about his whole traditional gentleman vibe”

“Okay” Seungcheol agreed. Not that he had a choice. You were the boss after all.

You walk over to the costume wardrobe pulling out a red and black corset with a small lace skirt attached. The skirt came to above mid thigh but with the girls working tonight you would easily be wearing the most reserved outfit. You walk behind the screen so that Seungcheol couldn’t see you change.

“We need to move now. My character. Shy, insecure about my body but I've been forced to wear this corset that I find too revealing. I have to work behind the bar because we are short staffed. You made me wear the corset to hide my ‘un-appealing to the eye body’. I am usually a cleaner. You took me in because my father was a drug addict and needed the money. He disappeared before he repaid his debts so now i’m stuck here”

You walk around, now dressed in your outfit for the evening. You pull on some tights and some heels and make your way to the door.

“Message the bar ‘code blue’. Stephanie can go home for the day. When Mingyu arrives for his shift tell him he’s acting tonight, get him to come over and order a drink from me, make him be an asshole about it, then he can hang around the front for a bit then leave to monitor the CCTV.”

Seungcheol nods in understanding.

The two of you leave the office and walk downstairs into the private hallway. Seungcheol takes out his phone and sends a message to the till on the bar. All of the staff know the routines and codes. Mingyu had originally assigned more inventive code names but everyone kept getting confused so reluctantly he had opted for the colour system.

You look at the CCTV monitor on the wall.  You see Stephanie looking at the screen of the till. She types some stuff in and closes the till up. Then she wipes the counter quickly as to look like she is just about to leave. Finally she naturally leaves the bar.

Doyoung doesn’t notice, not looking up from his phone the entire time. There was no doubt that they were staking out one of the nearby buildings from inside the club. It seemed like Doyoung was the only one doing the actual monitoring, as the other two seemed to have their attention focused elsewhere.

The hallway you were standing in had a door that lead to behind the bar. So you knew that once you opened it he would be able to hear you despite the music that filled the club. It tended to be quieter towards the back of the club where the bar was.

“It’s now or never” Seungcheol nods to you. His hand grips the handle as he opens the door.

-

“I can’t I’ve never done it before” your voice panicked.

“If I had any other option I wouldn’t put you out there, your figure is hardly going to entice any customers, but we are short and at least behind the bar they can’t see so much of you.” disgust fills his voice.

“Okay” you make your voice small.

You hunch your shoulders over and shuffle out the door to behind the bar. You walk over to the till, being sure not to look up from the floor. Once you reach the till you make sure to push a few buttons that made it look like you didn’t know how to use it properly.

You continued to look at the floor as you held onto the skirt of your corset, trying to pull it down as much as you could.

You could feel Doyoung’s eyes on you,but you didn't look at him.

This could work if you played it right.

-

“Excuse me” Mingyu’s voice was almost unrecognisable in his condescending tone. 

Mingyu liked playing this role, sometimes a little too much. You hoped for the sake of the operation that he didn’t overdo it. He was usually security, but whenever you needed someone to act like an asshole customer, he was your man.

You timidly looked up at him.

“S-sorry what can I get you?” your eyes dart around, making sure not to look him in the eyes.  

“Whiskey” he grumbles.

You nod before grabbing a glass with shaking hands and pouring his drink. You can hear the bottle clinking against the glass as your hands trembled, you made sure to spill some on the counter for good measure.

“For Fuck sake” Mingyu groans, rolling his eyes and tapping his fingers against the bar impatiently.

You give him his drink, he hands you the money, which you drop on the floor before hastily picking it up and putting it in the till. Mingyu takes his drink and walks past Doyoung, murmuring something to himself about how the club must be taking in strays of the street nowadays.

You take the cloth from the sink and begin wiping down the counters. You could feel his eyes on you the whole time. You had to choose the right moment to engage with him. This operation depends on it.

“Excuse me” you hear a soft voice. They were the same words but they sounded completely different coming from him. Doyoung’s voice was hesitant, as if you were a small animal that if he spoke too loud, would get frightened and run away.  

This plan could work.

-

Doyoung’s POV

“Excuse me” I say softly  

For the first time since she came to the bar she looked at me. Her eyes did nothing to hide her fear.

“Y-yes” she stutters.

“Could I have another glass of wine please?”

She nods her head, grabbing another wine class and pouring me a glass of white wine.

I don’t even like white wine. But I still thanked her once she gave it to me.

“Do you usually work at the bar?”

She shakes her head “I’m a cleaner but we are short staffed tonight, so here I am” she smiles sadly.

She goes back to cleaning the sides, it seemed to comfort her. Her arms were not trembling as much as she ran the cloth over the marble counter. The bar was already spotless but she still kept cleaning.

She kept looking over to the side to one of the corridors with a worried expression. A quick look and I saw the owner leaning against the wall. She was clearly trying to keep herself busy, stacking glasses and cleaning the sides, stopping every so often to adjust her corset and pull her skirt down. She looked as if she could not be more uncomfortable. The sight alone was heartbreaking.

I continued to drink the wine that she had given me. It tasted horrible but I pressed on. She had forgotten to charge me for it anyway.

She didn’t look like she wanted to talk. She looked like she wanted her shift to be over so she could go home and crawl inside a blanket. I kept watching her for a while, completely neglecting the stakeout I was meant to be monitoring. I’m sure Yuta could handle it on his own from the van around the corner

She would serve the customers that came to the bar, which were not many. Most of them were too engrossed in the ‘entertainment’ to bother to get their own drinks. Most of them were civil towards her but were clearly annoyed by her inexperience, shy persona and the fact that her cleavage was not on full display for them to gawk at.

I wonder how she ended up here.

She said she was a cleaner, which certainly isn’t the most glamorous of jobs but judging by how uncomfortable she is in her current attire, it seems she would much prefer to be cleaning the bathroom. She seemed so out of place here. A shy innocent girl stood behind the bar of a strip club.

A loud crash interrupted my thoughts.

“Shit” I hear her curse to herself.

I look over the bar, there is glass everywhere, the remains of several wine glasses, shattered on the floor.

She panickedly looked over to the corridor.  Eyes widening as she sees her boss walking towards her at a brisk pace.

“For fuck sake. What do you think you are doing you stupid bitch?” he whisper shouts as he approaches her

“Sorry. I’m so sorry” she apologises frantically to him as he marches around the bar. She flinches away, trying to get as far away as possible from him without causing a scene. “You are so fucking useless. Clean this shit up. You’re paying for the damages.”

“Yes sir. Sorry sir”  she bows her head submissively.

The man turns to me “I’m sorry for her incompetence and her appearance. We were desperate for staff tonight. I hope you understand.” he bows his head to me.

Scumbag.

Once he had disappeared. She bent down to start cleaning up the mess.

I don’t know what came over me but before I knew it I was behind the bar helping her pick glass shards off the floor and put them in the bucket.

“You should be careful of your feet” I warn as I notice her heels, they were black and consisted of lots of straps. Her feet were exposed, and the shoes clearly didn’t fit her properly. She was no doubt made to wear them at the last minute.

“You don’t need to help me sir. Cleaning is one thing I can do” she smiles sadly to herself as she grabs a dustpan and begins sweeping up the smaller shards of glass.

“I want to help” I smile. For the first time this evening she looks at my face properly, not a subtle glance then nervously averting her eyes. Instead she looked at me and the fear in her eyes seemed to disappear.  Being this close to her, I noticed the soft features of her face. Her smooth skin and her beautiful eyes. She deserved so much better than this shitty place.

“Thank you.”She smiles appreciatively.

“You’re not like the guys the girls tell me stories about”  she mutters to herself, focusing on the floor.

“Thank you.”

Her eyes widened as she realised I had heard her. Her expression was cute.

“You’re not like most of the girls here either” I smile.

“I know” she mutters sadly, pulling her skirt down again and attempting to hide her face with her hair and looked towards the floor yet again.

“Hey.” I say to get her attention.

She looks up at me. “I meant it as a compliment” I smile, pushing her hair away from her face. She seemed confused by the action but didn’t shy away from it.

Once the floor was clear I stood up, holding out my hand to help her stand. She took it, stumbling slightly in her heels. I steadied her, letting her go when I was sure she had caught her footing. She backs away from me, going to wash her hands in the sink.

I return to my seat at the bar. Thinking over the previous events.

I wasn’t sure how I was feeling. Women never seem to catch my attention eventhough most of the time it is what they desperately crave. Although this woman seems like she would rather have nobody’s attention, yet she has complete control over mine.

“What is your name?” I find myself asking

“Y/N” she mutters.

“Why do you work here Y/N?”

She sighs “My father was a drug addict. He borrowed money from the owner and couldn’t pay it back. My father left the country to escape his debts. Mr Choi found me and told me I had to work off what my father owed him. He said I could clean since I would deter customers if I were front of house. At least my father only owed money to him and not some gang or something. It could be worse” she says dismissively.

I was about to ask her more questions when another woman walked over to the bar.

“Y/N what are you doing out here?” she asks in concern.

“We were short so I had to cover” she sighs.

“Okay, I’ll take the bar now you can go. I think Mr Choi wants to see you.”

“Ok.Thank you” she hugs the woman, clearly relieved she doesn’t have to stay behind the bar any longer. She leaves the bar and begins to walk reluctantly over to the corridor.

“Y/N wait” I shout. Following her quickly. I caught up to her as she turns to look at me in confusion.

“I want to speak to your boss”

“W-why” she mutters nervously.

“I just need to speak to him”

“Oh, okay”  she says nervously leading me to the door on the far end of the corridor.

She knocks gently.

“Come in” I hear his gruff voice from inside.

She timidly pushes the door open, before she can enter I step in front of her. She looks at me in confusion. “Wait here” I enter the room shutting the door behind me.

“Who are you?” the man behind the desk stands up. Clearly surprised to see me.

“I have come to talk about Y/N”

“I am terribly sorry if she has caused you any trouble, rest assured she will be disciplined accordingly”

I scrunch my face up in disgust.

“That is not what I came to talk about”

He looks confused for a second.

“How much does her father owe you?”

“Her remaining total is $20,000. Why?”

“I’m paying it for her”

“What? Why would you do that? I must say she is a frigid bitch. If it’s a woman you’re after I recommend choosing another one” he chuckles.

He barely had time to blink before I was in front of him with my hand around his throat.

“Now you listen here. You will never talk about her in such a way again” I tighten the grip on his neck. He squirms as he struggles for breath.

“I will pay you what you are owed and I will be taking her with me. If you so much as look in her direction again I will not hesitate to kill you.”

The man struggles against me, desperately trying to break free, but it was futile for him

“Am I understood?”  I ask sternly

He nods his head frantically as he claws at my hands.

I let him go. He crumples to the floor, gasping heavily.

“I will send a colleague with your payment tomorrow. She is leaving tonight and never coming back.”  I leave him on the floor as I walk out of the room.

-

She is sitting leaning against the wall opposite the door in front of me as I shut the door once again.

“Did you hear all that?” I ask.

“No. Mr Choi doesn't like it when people listen to his private conversations”

I hold my hand out to help her stand. She gladly takes it and pushes herself up off the floor.

“You’re free” I smile at her.

“What?” She looks at me with so much confusion on her face.

“You don’t owe him anything anymore. You can leave here tonight and never come back.” I explain.

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve paid off your debt”

“But why would you do that?”

“You deserve better than this place”

She looks around, her eyebrows scrunching as she tries to process the information. I feel my phone ringing in my back pocket. Looking at the screen. 

Johnny.

“Hello” I sigh 

“Where are you? we have to get back to the van” Johnnys voice sounds urgent

“I’ll meet you there”

“Hurry up or Yuta will get annoyed and you know he will tell Taeyong that we left the van”

I hang up

“I have to leave now. Get your things and go home” I take out a pen from my jacket pocket. “Here is my number call me tomorrow okay” I write my personal number down on the soft skin of her hand.

“O-Okay” she nods. I offer her a small smile, squeezing her hand in reassurance before turning to walk away.

“W-Wait” she calls. I turn back. She had hardly spoken more than a mumble all night so her voice took me by surprise.

“I don’t even know your name”

“Doyoung”  I call back to her with a smile.

-

Y/N’s pov

I stared in disbelief as he walked away. After a few minutes the door in front of me opened. Seungcheol leant against the doorway with a sly smirk on his face. “They’ve left the building”

I follow him into his office chuckling as I take a seat on the sofa. “The plan was much more effective than I could imagine.”

“Where do we go from here?”  he asks.

“I can’t be here too much longer, no doubt he’s keeping an eye out for me leaving. I also can’t come back here, it would be too suspicious. For now you’re in charge of the club. I’ll call Mr Kim once I get home and tell him what is going on. ”

“Ok, be sure to look after yourself.” Seungcheol joins me on the sofa wrapping his arms around me tightly. “I’ll miss you”

“Me too.”  I smiled sadly, gently tracing the red marks that were dominantly present around his neck. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I'm fine. The fucker has a tight grip on him though”  He holds me for a moment before letting me go.

I go back to my office, changing quickly into a pair of jeans, a shirt and a jacket before grabbing my purse and phone and leaving the club.

I look around the street outside the back entrance to the club. I see a grey van parked by the side of the road. I pretend not to notice it as I walk past. Knowing that Doyoung was probably watching from there. 

Instead I kept my head down and walked quickly. As it was incredibly late and not safe for a woman to be walking home on her own. So I pretended I wasn’t trained and highly lethal in hand to hand combat and shuffled home at a brisk pace with my phone held tightly in my hands.

-

After showering and climbing into bed I grab my phone and call Mr Kim.

“Yes” I hear his cold voice on the other side of the line. Mr Kim was never one for unnecessary chit chat.

“Hello Mr Kim. I have an update on infiltrating NCT”

“And what is that?” for the first time since I met the elusive leader, his voice seemed to have some sort of interest in it.

“Three members entered the club today sir. With the help of Seungcheol I have managed to get Kim Doyoung to approach me. He believes he has saved me from my life of torment at the hands of Seungcheol, I am to call him tomorrow.”

“Interesting. He has no idea as to who you are?”

“No he doesn’t, I am certain. My plan is to continue my character in the hopes he lets his guard down. The way he acted tonight could suggest romantic, or at least protective intentions, if this is the case we have our way in.”

“Good Work. Starting now. You are to have no contact with anyone from the gang, including me, until such a time comes where you have information that we can use. This infiltration will take time, but I am confident in you that you will be successful.”  

“Yes sir. Thank you sir”

The line went dead.

The mission to get Kim Doyoung to fall in love with me was truly underway.

Part 2 coming soon

#mafia doyoung #doyoung au #mafia nct #doyoung imagines #nct au #doyoung angst #doyoung fluff #nct imagines #nct 127 imagines #nct 127 au #mafia nct 127 #nct fluff #nct angst

[nothingbutfangirlsmut]

The Maze Trials: A Gally Fanfiction

Pairing: Gally x Emi(OC)

Summary: Emi, first girl the Glade has seen. Tougher than she looks and more than ready to prove it. Since day one her and Gally have been at each other's throats. Fighting constantly and not just with their words.

(Gally fanfiction which will include smut. It also has an actual story line. Think of it as an AU to the original Maze Runner. It'll mostly follow the main story line with some changes. Mostly focusing on Emi and Gally and their relationship.)

Chapter Twenty-Six

I had found out from Chuck that Thomas and Minho did in fact go into the maze. The young boy had also told me about strange loud sounds from inside the maze. I ran outside with Chuck to see a small group of gladers at the entrance. As soon as I reached the group I saw the two runners coming around the corner. A moment of calm washed over me knowing they were both safe. They ran inside past the group. We all followed them needing to know if they had found anything else.

"What the hell is going on out there?" Newt questioned the two.

"What the hell have you done now Thomas?" Gally asked harshly.

"We found something. A new passage. We think it could be a way out." Thomas stated as we all walked in a group.

"Really?" Newt and I asked at the same time.

"It's true. It opened a door. Something I'd never seen before. Think it must be where the grievers go during the day."

"Wait, woah, you're saying you found the griever's home and you want us to go in?" Chuck asked looking at them like they were insane.

"Their way in could be our way out Chuck." Thomas said simply.

"Yea or" Gally started as he shoved his way past Chuck and I to get close to Thomas.

"There could be a dozen grievers on the other side. Truth is, Thomas doesn't know what he's done as usual." Gally shouted.

The group stopped as Thomas whipped around to face Gally. The veins in his neck popping out as he strained to keep himself under control.

"Yea, well at least I did something Gally. What have you done? Huh? Besides hide behind these walls all the time." Thomas said sternly standing toe to toe with the builder.

"Let me tell you something Greenie, you've been here three days. I've been here three years." Gally stuck his fingers in Thomas' face.

"Yea you've been here three years and you're still here Gally! Alright? So what's that tell you? Maybe you should start doing things a little differently!" Thomas shouted in his face.

"Guys" I said sternly trying to step between them.

I placed a hand on both their chests trying to ignore the tingles that appeared when I touched Gally.

"Maybe you should be in charge Thomas. What about that?" Gally said as he wrapped his hand around mine stepping closer to the other boy.

"Guys! It's Alby!" Teresa's voice suddenly shouted from behind us.

We all turned to face her. Gally was still holding my hand tightly. I didn't mind it. I was happy to have this contact with him even though he didn't realize he was doing it.

"He's awake" Teresa added once we were all looking at her.

I felt Gally let go of my hand as we all went straight for the hut. Jeff was outside the door as if guarding it. He stopped the group by holding up his hand.

"Newt, Thomas, and Gally you can go inside. The rest of you have to wait out here." Jeff said opening the door.

The three boys stepped inside followed by Jeff then the door closed behind them. What kind of klunk is that? I've been here just as long as them. I need to know what's going on as much as they do. A hand on my shoulder pulled my concentration away from the door.

"Come on let's grab something to eat." Teresa said with a small smile.

I nodded feeling my stomach growl at the mention of food. I followed Teresa over to Fry's shack. He smiled and handed us both a tray of food. The two of us sat away from the boys. It was nice to have another girl here to keep me company.

"Can I ask what happened with you and Gally?" Teresa asked while keeping her eyes on her tray.

"He doesn't want to leave the Glade and I do. I think Thomas can get us out of here. Gally thinks Thomas is just screwing everything up." I stated quietly.

"Maybe he will come around. I mean he has to understand that your brother is just as important to you right?" She asked quietly.

My head snapped up to look at her. My brother?

"How'd you know that Thomas is supposedly my brother?" I asked her.

"I just assumed. I saw the two of you side by side in the look out. You look just alike. You have the same hair, features, and even make the exact same facial expressions. I just figured you were brother and sister." Teresa shrugged.

"We don't know for sure but like you said we do look alike and I had a dream the night before Thomas arrived where I had called him my twin brother." I explained.

I could see the sun setting in the distance turning the sky a light pink. Something felt wrong. I glanced around the Glade looking for anything that would make me feel this uncomfortable. As I scanned the Glade I saw just that. I jumped to my feet scaring Teresa.

"The door!" I shouted.

Instant chaos erupted in the Glade. The boys started shouting frantically.

"Shut it!" I shouted gaining everyone's attention.

They all stopped in they're tracks to stare at me.

"I want all of you to gather torches and any weapons you can find. Do it now and meet back here. Move it!" I shouted the order.

All the boys ran off to do as I had told them. I grabbed Teresa's arm to pull her behind me as I ran for the Med-Jack's hut. I didn't bother knocking on the door. I threw it open gaining everyone insides attention.

"What the hell are you doing?" Gally asked harshly.

"The doors" I panted.

"They're still open" Teresa finished for me.

All of their face's instantly paled as they exchanged glances. The boys including Alby who was now back on his feet ran out of the building. The other gladers had come back with torches and weapons. Most of us grab a torch and ran to the door. This has never happened. A sudden loud screeching sounded from behind us. It didn't sound like a Griever though. We all turned to see the wall opposite of us opening. I never even realized there was a door on the wall but there it was slowly opening up. The same horrible sound came from the right then the left. All four sides were open exposing us from every way.

"Hide!" Thomas shouted frantically.

As soon as he shouted that word every glader took off running in different directions. I heard the sudden and ear piercing screeches of several grievers from behind us as we ran. I was running beside Teresa as we both followed behind Thomas. We ran into the field of tall grass as quietly as we could. We stopped right in the center and huddled down in a group. I could hear the metal legs of the grievers and their menacing snarls growing closer. We all looked at each other all of us with a look of true fear on our faces.

A blood curdling cry from one of the gladers behind us had us all back on our feet. A griever had impaled him then tossed him away. I was frozen with fear and shock. I'd never seen anything like that in my life.

"Go! Go! Go! Go!" Thomas shouted pulling my arm as everyone else ran.

We ran back towards the main part of the Glade where most of the huts stood. A griever suddenly busted threw a small hut turning it into rubble as it came face to face with us. Every one shouted and skidded to a stop then quickly moving to go another direction. Teresa grabbed one of the jars of Gally's concoction. As she threw the jar I threw my torch. Both objects hit the griever at the same time making it burst into flames. It let out a painful screech as it staggered.

Thomas ushered us another direction away from the now burning griever. I glanced back to see the griever putting itself out. Then it turned towards us with another nasty snarl. We ran into the open Glade as fast as we could. I could see  gladers being picked off one by one by the grievers. Alby tripped causing him to fall to the ground. I almost fell on top of him but I caught myself in time to help him back to his feet. The griever was right in front of us now.

"Get behind me!" Thomas shouted as he threw his arms out to protect us.

The griever snarled and growled at him.

"Come on!" Thomas shouted at it.

Two spears flew threw the air both landing in the grievers face. It screeched as it tried to shake off the spears.

"Come on! Over here!" Frypan shouted as he and a few others ran towards us.

The griever broke one of the spears as it turned to face us again. I turned to run following behind the others. My heart was hammering in my chest. I didn't want to die not here not now.

"Over here!" Chuck shouted from the door of a hut as he held up a lantern.

We all turned running straight for the younger boy. Once inside Thomas and I grabbed whatever was closest to us to barricade the door. We stood in the middle of the hut all frantic and scared. The griever was circling the hut outside. It's snarls loud enough to be heard as it moved around. It banged on a part of the roof but it seemed unable to break through. It paused as we all huddled together. It banged harder causing all of us to back away in fright. It started moving again like it was looking for a way in.

"Stay back guys" Newt whispered.

The metal tail of the griever punched threw the ceiling making all of us shout and fall backwards. The whole roof seemed to cave in around us the next second. The room filled with dust making it harder to see and breath.

"Everyone alright?" Newt asked.

We all looked around as if to check that everyone was there but in the middle of all this chaos I had no idea who was with our group aside from a few people.

"Help! Help!" The sudden muffled scream had as moving.

One of the gladers was pinned under the fallen roof. Several of us moved to grab his out stretched hand but he was quickly pulled away by a griever before we could touch him. Another griever started scratching at another wall.

"Get away from there!" I shouted at the two standing close to the wall.

The griever's tail punched threw the wall grabbing the glader closest to it. The other glader standing close by was Chuck.

"Chuck!" Thomas screamed as a griever grabbed him.

We all darted quickly for the young boy. Thomas had grabbed Chuck's hand. I grabbed his other arm. We pulled trying to free him from the griever.

"Chuck don't let go!" Thomas ordered the boy.

"No shit!" Chuck shouted in fear.

In any other circumstance I would have laughed. Right now my brain could only focus on trying to save my friend. A sudden war cry from beside me had me turning to see Alby with a weapon. Our leader seemed to go mad as he used the wood as a club to beat the tail of the griever. He didn't stop until we all fell backwards with Chuck as the griever let go. Alby hit it again until it retreated from the hut. He screamed out of the hole at the griever.

"Chuck you okay?" Thomas asked him.

"Yea I'm fine" He groaned as we all tried to get back to our feet.

"Thanks Alby" the boy said turning to look at our leader.

We all heard the griever before we saw it. Before any of us could do anything it broke threw another part of the roof instantly grabbing Alby. Thomas jumped up quickly grabbing Alby's hand as he had done to Chuck.

"Thomas! Get them out!" Alby ordered him.

Alby pushed back from Thomas letting the griever take him.

"Alby!" Newt and a few others shouted as we rushed to the hole.

Our leader was gone. Alby was gone.

"Thomas!" Teresa screamed.

I turned to see Thomas heading for the door.

"Thomas no!" I shouted.

"Don't go out there!" Teresa shouted as we both tried to grab for him.

He easily avoiding our hands as he burst back out into the Glade. A horrible quiet settled around us. Only the sound of the crackling fire around us and the distant screams of gladers being drug into the maze.

"Where is everybody?" Teresa asked.

We all knew the answer to that but none of us dared to speak it.

—

#nothingbutfangirlsmut #the maze trials #the maze runner #gally imagine #gally smut #gally #gally x reader #tmr gally #original character

[tarithenurse]

Orphan - 1 of ?

Starring: Fem!Reader and MCU character(s)! Contents: Spoilers for Endgame!! Takes place after the Attack on New York and The Snappening and deals with both so angst and confusion! A/N: Yes, it’s an MCU fic, but I want you, as a reader, to discover things together with the reader character, so not too much can be said here. It’s gonna be a relatively angsty series to begin with, dealing with loss as well as finding a new family. The main focus is neither romance nor smut…but if it happens then it happens.

1. Where we were

A tiny family – but all you needed.

For as long as you could remember, it’d just been you and your mom. She saw you through the wobbly toddler years, encouraging to strive for greatness without losing sight of your accomplishments. During elementary school, she dove headfirst into your hobbies and interests which eventually came to include Iron Man. You wanted to be like him - smart, someone who helped others – and your choices and grades in high school were showing it.

“Hey, kiddo.” The visor slid up to reveal furrowed brows over chocolaty-green eyes that somehow seemed familiar. “Look at me, okay? Just look at me.”

It was impossible not to and you were grateful for such a simple request even if it didn’t change the fact that you had already seen what he was trying to shield you from. The tears rose in your eyes, hot and prickly before they rolled down your cheeks. There was no hesitation when Stark opened his arms for you.

“I got you, [Y/N],” he cooed softly, the break in the voice only noticeable in hindsight, “I’ll get you somewhere safe…just hold on.”

As he stepped through the hole in the wall where the alien had come through, you were less concerned about the distance to the ground but painfully aware that you’d never see your mom or the place you’d called home again.

Iron Man kept his promise, setting you down outside the part of New York where the fighting was and even making sure someone took care of you. He’d saved you and your teenager heart knew you should be thanking him…only problem was that he’d come too late.

As old as you were, and with the flood of orphans after the attack on your home city, it took a while before you got into foster care which in your case was a group home full of chaos and very little time to worry about the needs of a single girl, so you stuck to yourself and your school while counting down the days you could go live on your own.

By your 18th, you were surprised to receive what had been left of your old life and the financial means to sign up for any university you wanted – no strings attached and no name of the benefactor.

 …   Spring 2018   …

The pencil you’re flipping as you listen to the lecture slips from your hand and skids off the table. Bending down to pick it up, you hear the murmur of voices grow into a confused ruckus with panic in the mix, and it takes you a few seconds to find out why when you get back up, pencil falling from your fingers when you see the last of the professor, Mr. Whyzinzky, shrivel to dust.

“[Y/N]!!” Aidan screams.

The pencil rolls to the edge of the tiny table, teetering on the edge as you try to catch it with a non-existent hand. It feels strange, the numbness that spreads as odd flakes of dust start to swirls around you. Together with the pencil, you lose the balance and see the edge of the table pass you by before –

 …   Fall 2023   …

It’s impossible to tell who’s more shocked, you or the guy who’s lap you’re perched on. At least Chem 101 becomes a lot more interesting for the freshmen and their professor as you and others apparently appear out of nowhere.

Nothing makes sense.

The guy allows you off his lap, but he and others keep reaching out for you to see if you’re real. The professors are no help either as the chem teacher is holding on to yours for dear life, sobbing hysterically while Mr. Whyzinzky looks as confused as you feel.

“It’s been more than five years,” the freshmen claim as they guide you from the interrupted lecture. Five years since what? Everything looks the same except it doesn’t. There are tiny changes to the hallways or at least the people walking them and it’s not just because of the hectic confusion that has gotten everyone out and about, abandoning their studies to look at people passing as if they’re seeing ghosts.

It takes too long for the memory to come back. By the time a numbing nightmare of dust appears you’re lying on a cot in the gym of the university, the score boards and exit signs casting an odd glow onto the team mascot painted on the wall. In a corner under the bleachers is a TV showing the news of a fight between all sorts of heroes and a villain that supposedly robbed you of five years. Robbed you of your home too, the only connection you had to your mom.

…

The tiles of the showers are slippery under your feet, but at least someone’s been kind to find towels and even a clean shirt. No underwear, so you do your best to wash your panties in the shower, ignoring how cold the water is.

There’s a whole crowd outside Uni. Parent’s, children, siblings, and friends. They’re all looking for someone who had been “dusted” here, hoping that they’re back now, and at least some are because there are reunions happening. Who would look for me? You’d had friends (the past tense is odd), but they must all have moved on and without a family to miss you? Nope, no one is waiting.

With the few coins you have left, you catch the sub to the bank, hoping that your financial advisor is willing to help you even if your ID has expired together with your credit card.

It turns out he might have, but he’s no longer working there after having dusted off in the middle of a meeting five years ago. When he returned, he wanted to spend time with the family, and in his stead is a hollow-eyed older man who looks like he might have seen too much over the years, but he’s willing to help you.

“Your assets are frozen,” he explains flatly, “normally it takes quite a bit to regain access, but I believe we can make an exception in this case.” You sit silently as he clicks vigorously on the keyboard, staring unblinkingly at the thin screen. “Ah, yes…there’s that.”

Without further explanation, he gets up and leaves you sitting there. It’s not right to look at something not meant for you, but if you lean just a bit forward then you can see the screen where the date still claims to be in 2023. There’s also a little notice in a pop-up window, claiming you have something in a bank box. I do?

Fifteen minutes later you’re outside with a date to return for the new cards, cash in pocket, and a fat envelope with unknown contents in your hand.

#marvel cinematic universe #mcu #mcu fanfiction #mcu fanfic series #Orphan #mcu reader #The Avengers #Attack on New York mcu #Infinity War: endgame #The snappening #the Blip #marvel #Reader insert #Angst #Confusion #trauma #hurt/comfort #feels #family #ohana #return #Iron Man #captain america #Hulk #Thor #Alien mcu #Chitauri #Thanos #Mad titan #losing loved one

[toonstarterz]

BECAUSE I’M NOT POPULAR, I’LL READ WATAMOTE: CHAPTER #157

And now for something entirely different.

For the first time in the entire series, we have a chapter in which Tomoko Kuroki is completely absent. For a series whose initial premise was so dependent on having Tomoko as the solitary focus, it really speaks volumes that the side characters can now carry the series on their own. Of course, it wouldn’t be Watamote if Tomoko wasn’t there in some way, shape or form, and as we see today, her spirit lives on in rest of the Watamote Crew.

Chapter 157: Because I’m Not Popular, I’m Suspended

I really dig the hatching in this opening shot. It automatically gives you the sense that this is a retroactive moment and that Tomoko will be MIA until further notice.  

And just as we already knew, Tomoko and Yoshida got busted.

I’ve noticed quite a few people criticize this school policy, claiming that’s it’s unreasonable for the “crime”. My assumption is that riding a motor scooter reflects poorly on the school, which its students are supposed to represent with “proper” behavior. While I don’t think it’s really a justified punishment, I don’t think it’s necessarily an unjustified punishment either. Dissecting the reason would mean pulling apart much about Japanese cultural values, and this ain’t the place for that.   

This, on the other hand, seems a teeensy bit excessive. But that’s just me.

Naturally, Komiyama takes this as an opportunity to validate her less-than-savory impression of Tomoko. Gotta eat up those friend-of-a-friend brownie points. 

The true endgame of this series is when Tomoko and Komiyama call each other “friend.”

Blatant disregard of sensei’s instructions? Looks like Yuri’s the next to join the new delinquent posse after Tomoko and Yoshida.

But on that note, I really do enjoy that Yuri cares enough about her buddies to break the rules. She’s always been an obedient student overall, but I always had this inkling that Yuri wasn’t really a goody-two-shoes. Rebels gotta stick together.

And Tomoko’s (and Yoshida’s) reputation continues to brew. And through the semi-popular kids at that. If nothing else, Tomoko is going to leave school known as the “Weird Kid” that everyone admires.

I now wonder just how much these guys knew about Tomoko and Yoshida’s friendship? I’d imagine that this whole suspension might actually paint the two as BFFs in everyone’s eyes. 

Lastly, I wonder what was the manga Tomoko and Yoshida were reading? Maybe a sequel to “A Happy Cat”?

Can I get a Prison School shoutout, anybody?

Yup, like I said. Everyone knows about that “Weird Kid” in high school who did stupid stuff, but you couldn’t help but admire them for having the nerve to do it. Nemo may give Tomoko a lot of shit sometimes, but to some degree, I think she wishes she could be like her.

Girl’s itching for her Kuroki-Kimoi fix. 

Perhaps someone can enlighten me, but are Japanese shoe lockers really left unlocked? I mean, you see it all the time in manga–how else would the love interest send letters/chocolate to their crush?–but I’d like to to know if there’s any truth to that. 

If Ucchi really was getting ready to confess apologize, then I gotta hand it to her. It took her a lot faster to get to that point than I thought she would.

Unfortunately, the universe discriminates against emojis, and when they flippantly confront a random girl to inquire about their obsession, you know a blast of karma is heading their way.

The Counseling Room, huh? For those who’re uninitiated like me, that’s supposedly where they keep the suspended students to do their schoolwork and reflect on their actions. 

In Ucchi’s eyes, however, it’s the higher beings keeping her from her beloved. 

Sorry, Ucchi, but you gotta work on your “Uwaaaah!”s. Maybe you ought to get some pointers from Komiyama.

More and more, Ucchi’s cries of despair get even more absurd. And more and more, I wonder how she justifies it in that head of hers. 

Aw damn, is it that same dude that criticized Tomoko for supposedly almost falling into a ravine? And on film, too? Bro needs to take a chill pill.

That seems to be the food for thought amongst the student body these days. 

Is it wrong that I laughed at Katou’s very obvious face of absolute boredom? You can just feel the Tomoko withdrawal symptoms destroying her from the inside.

I used to be pretty ambivalent about her increasing affection to Tomoko, but these more humanizing moments make me grow fonder about their relationship.  

Fuuka’s never gonna let this one die, is she?

That’s basically the exact same thing that Tomoko said to Fuuka, wasn’t it? Shoot, gotta had another tally to the “Tomoko-Katou ship is actually kind of cute” chart.

At this point, she and Okada need to start a support group for the Tomoko-challenged.

I gotta say, I fully expected Tomoko to be hypocritical enough to deny Fuuka an answer, but not Katou. More than anybody else, it feels like nobody, not even her closest friends, really understand who Katou is. I’m counting the chapters to the day it all comes to blows. 

So close, and yet so far.

Back to fill the void with the ol’ earbuds, huh, Yuri? 

Well, Tomoko is perpetually tired, but I’d imagine suspension isn’t doing her any favors. A loner Tomoko may be, being locked up for a week in pseudo-solitary confinement (with Yoshida, no less) is bound to lead to some cabin fever.

I think the old Tomoko would brag about it before the fact, but after experiencing it, she'd take it back after realizing that suspension actually kind of sucks.

In old news: Yuu is a sweetheart and deserves the world.

Ah, Komi. I can't tell if you're ignorant, in denial, or just being a bitch, but your delusions of grandeur towards Tomoki never fail to amuse me.

It took me a while to realize that we were going over several days throughout this chapter. The time transitions are just that subtle, and I'm pretty sure that was intentional in order to emphasize how Tomoko's absence is really screwing with everyone’s sense of time.

Is this the first time anyone other than Minami has acknowledged Ucchi's lack of a face? Alright, Minami, you win this one.

Also, this is so going to add fuel to the fire on those NSFW headcanons about Mako and Minami’s "pet play" relationship.

Wow. When she says it like that, it puts Minami in an almost sympathetic light. Curse that endearing dependency of hers.

I see that Okada’s infamous shut-her-down moment from the field trip has left some after effects. If nothing else, Fang Girl knows when to fold ‘em.

Obvious imagery aside, I do like that they include Yoshida as one of the “loud” ones in the class. She’s definitely more of the “in-your-face” type of loud, while Tomoko is mostly loud in presence, and it really drives home just how extra loud the two are when together.

A wild Hirasawa appeared!

Somewhere underneath Yuri’s veil of apathy is a very particular layer of empathy. That being, her affection for Tomoko. Yuri may get jealous of other girls, but she can understand how it feels to have an attachment to someone, and when she recognizes that in someone else, that’s when she’ll go the extra mile.

Even she can’t abandon an underclassman all by their lonesome.

That said, it wouldn’t be Yuri if flashes of green didn’t flicker in her eyes at times.

Then that green turns into...whatever color is usually associated with begrudging respect.

Aw damn, this is going to be one of those heartwarmingly bittersweet endings, isn’t it?

Continuity porn.

Okay, ya’ll, but that glimmer of hope in Yuri’s slightly widened eyes is just golden. I hereby put this at the top of my “Top 5 Purest Moments in Watamote” List.

You know, if this were earlier in the series–as in, before Nemo opened up to Yuri–this would come off as pretty mean in the context of the plot, even if it really isn’t. It’s still trollish in a way that only Nemo can, but it feels like a genuine offer of friendship now that we’ve seen these two slowly come closer together. And if slice-of-life manga has taught me anything, it’s that walking home from school together is the Friendship Rite of Passage.

I’m sure Yuri’s first instinct was to punch her out, but hey, any reaction is a good reaction.

Actual proof that Tomoko has temporal powers that allow her to accelerate the passage of time at a rate that’s proportional to her exuding weirdness.

Or, you know, they all just miss her.

If there’s one thing that this series has taught me, it’s that the most wonderful of friendships can start with a mere coincidence.

At the start of Watamote, I never would’ve thought that the series could hold its own without Tomoko. And yet here we are. Gone are the days where the cast was just her, Tomoki, and Yuu. The cast has expanded exponentially since then, and their stories are all rich enough to headline their own series. But no matter how far the web grows, it always comes back to Tomoko. Even with Main Character Privilege, her existence is the glue that binds everyone together. And while this chapter gave us a unique insight on favorite characters, it also gave us a chance to see an alternate reality where Tomoko (and Yoshida) don’t exist.

And as expected, it’s a dull, dull world.

#watamote #watamote review #chapter 157 #no matter how i look at it it's you guys' fault i'm not popular! #tomoko kuroki #(really tempted to remove her tag) #ogino #kotomi komiyama #hikari itou #yuri tamura #mako tanaka #kiyota yoshinori #wada #hina nemoto #akane okada #ucchi #reina #anna haruna #fuuka #asuka katou #yuu naruse #koharu minami #shizuku hirasawa #review

[ptw30]

Regarding that post of "my friend told me dw is mad about the large female audience" whether that's true or not, what option do you think would be best for DW to take in this position? making another reboot where the messages and writing this audience hated so much can finally be fixed? so they can relaunch their merch and target it more towards women? Or maybe making this reboot more appealing to men and succed with their "boy toys" and "boy property"? (1/4)

Though i just see this last one failing miserably, they already tried it once and it didn’t work. I might be young (and correct me if i’m wrong) but fandom culture seems pretty female dominated to me? Like even people outside of the binary gender (a minority group in the current society) seem to overtake the few men who engaged in the fandoms I’ve been before. (2/4) 

It might be cause I only get into cartoon fandoms and that doesn’t appeal to adult men as much as it does to adult women, it might be cause of the misogynistic “ew! a crazy fangirl” view, probably fandoms are safe places for oppressed groups or they simply have different interests than mine. (¾)

I’m sure there’re more factors at play but whatever it is, DW is just wasting their time trying to appeal to a small part of their audience when they already had this large group (which is pretty diverse in gender and orientation) and they could win us back if they try. This shouldn’t be looked as a disappointment but more like an opportunity (um wtf DW??) But how do you think they should take that step? (srry for the rant, got some strong feelings about this) 

First, can I interest you in a cookie? Maybe get your mind off me writing an entire marketing plan for DreamWorks? 

Before we go into “boys property” - we need to note that brands don’t focus one target market.

When I headed four brands, each brand had primary, secondary, and even tertiary markets. For our main brand, we had six target segments, three primary. Did we care about the others? Yeah, but we didn’t highlight them half as much in marketing campaigns or collateral. 

That means that most likely, Voltron wasn’t a “boys” franchise, so much as one of the target markets DreamWorks wanted to hit were boys, ages 7 to 15. Their secondary market was probably older males who had seen the original series, and either a secondary or tertiary market was older female viewers who also watched DotU.

I need to note - I used to wear Voltron shirts all the time. When I wore VLD shirts, I heard from girls, generally 18-30. Almost all had a favorite character and knew the next season drop date.

When I wore DotU shirts, I heard from guys. When I asked the men, “Hey, do you like the new show?” every single one told me they’d never heard of it.

Now, fandom, as a whole, DreamWorks probably doesn’t care about. No, really. Fandom can make their fanart, celebrate the story, whatever floats their boat; DreamWorks doesn’t care. 

What DreamWorks cares about is sales. (They don’t even care about viewership if they’re distributing through Netflix because Netflix releases no numbers. All DW cares about is that Netflix orders more episodes.)

So are the toys selling? No. Then that’s not working. Are the shirts selling? Yeah? Oh, maybe we need to focus there. Who is buying the shirts?

But it’s actually hard to say for sure what’s working when all we know for sure is what’s not working. We can assume by the sudden increase in T-shirt stock on Hot Topic, especially those in women sizes, that these shirts are selling. We can also assume from Amazon having every single shirt in every single style - men, women, and children - that those shirts are selling.��

I can also tell you from my sister and mom’s holiday shopping experience that Hot Topic says they cannot keep VLD merchandise on the shelf. I’m not sure if that’s factual or just the ramblings of an overzealous seller. 

My point is - from the data we can see, we can assume that women are the majority viewership and it’s women with disposal income, 18-40, or so.

(I also want to note, I actually like the cut of a men’s shirts better.)

However, we don’t know that Voltron isn’t engaging with young male viewers, just that young male viewers seemingly aren’t buying merchandise. And as someone with at least seven different toys from VLD - I can tell you women are. 

So what does that mean for DreamWorks? 

There are a few factors that will determine what DreamWorks will do or has decided to do going forward. Most likely, they are going to want a variety of series, each one with a focused set of primary markets. So whether any new Voltron series will want to hit the “boys market” depends on if any other show in DreamWorks’ hopper is set to hit the boys’ market. I’m sure currently 3Below and potentially Fast & Furious are the supposed to hit those markets, so if they’re looking to making money on toy sales - well, F&F probably has the most potential. 

However, as @nomadicism can tell you in more detail, the toy market is effectively broken, and Voltron did suffer from distribution issues. (The videos from last year’s Toy Fair confirm this.) So I would need to see DreamWorks’ toy sales to know for sure if that’s even something worth pursuing. 

Ignoring that for just a moment - recent thought leadership in marketing is looking at agile delivery methods and strategies. Therefore, if DreamWorks stumbled upon a lucrative target market with disposal income, then yes - they should want to milk that and they should have the infrastructure to switch target markets and merchandise - not on a dime but in an acceptable time frame. And they have.  

However, as @sol1056 wrote earlier this week - it really depend on the person - or demographic - making the decisions, which will say whether marketing and merchandising will want to focus on women as a target market, despite or because of their monetary value. 

After all, Young Justice had a large female fanbase. That was the reason Cartoon Network cancelled the show, and from what I’ve seen from the Season 3 thus far, the EPs focused hard on trying to gain that male market they originally didn’t lure the first two seasons. In doing so, they lost me, at least, as a viewer. 

Going forward - what should DreamWorks do?

Young Justice just started streaming this month, so it’s hard to say if this darker turn will affect the story going forward. It’s hard to say if the darker start can’t be changed by a fulfilling ending to the season. What I can say is - Greg Weisman said earlier this week that the show hasn’t been greenlit for a fourth season. (It’s also on DCU, which no doubt has a smaller viewership than Netflix.)

While women dominate the fandom, the question remains - are they buying? If women really are shilling out dough for VLD merchandise (*looks at her Shiro shirts*), then DreamWorks execs should take notice and decide, “This is where we should throw our lot with any sequel.”

I can’t go much into details without getting too personal, but CEOs are beginning to create strategy from social media, thanks to Millennials. (That’s not to say that letters or calls to DreamWorks aren’t weighed more heavily because they are.)  Millennials want a personalized online experience. They want to engage with media on their own terms, an experience crafted toward their preferences, and they live with a mini-computer in their hands. They live on social media, though that, too, is dominated by women. 

But CEOs see social media posts as not having a filter, and though I have serious misgivings about taking social medias as the only source of research, I’m sure DreamWorks is doing or has done professional market research. They know what products are selling, whose buying them, and what these people want to see, in order to encourage them buy more. 

It’s telling that the only shirts ever produced for VLD, especially their newest ones - 

- all have the paladins and their symbols, after supposedly the lore was discarded after Season 2. 

Ignoring that the lore might be coming back - Marketing has created only a handful of new shirts post-Season 2 with a different paladin line-up - the majority of which were Monster & Mana designs and one shirt with Allura in the split screen. 

NOTHING AGAINST ALLURA. I just mean that seemingly, either merchandising doesn’t think post-Season 2 formations won’t sell or they tested in some way and know they won’t sell. Or they aren’t even willing to try, seeing the fandom backlash from later seasons. 

But if shirts are selling - and they appear to be, by the number of styles - are those numbers or projected numbers enough to forgo a “boys’ market” and focus all efforts on a primary target market of women? 

Considering DreamWorks already made the decision to make Hyperphase Voltron a con exclusive and go from selling less than twenty shirts on HT to more than 100 items, to go from selling few shirts on Amazon to uploading new ones in April and October 2018, and January 2019 - I think the question isn’t if DW should focus on women. 

That’s why I question the anon who said that DreamWorks is contemplating what to do with their series - since DreamWorks seems to have completed market research, selected a new primary target market, and made drastic changes to merchandising in order to reach that target market - women. 

Now, DreamWorks just need to focus on expanding that market, and how do they do that?

With new content that speaks to that market, or y’know, a fix-it sequel.  

#voltron #voltron critical #answered #it's a marketing thing #othxrstar #dreamworks #vld season 8 #merchandising

[spaceorphan18]

Finding Kurt Hummel: Homecoming

Masterpost

6x02: Homecoming

I really need to knock the rest of these out -- hopefully soon I will! But man, there’s a lot more in season 6 than you might realize.  A lot of these episodes are pretty packed.  

At the beginning of the episode, we get a lot more Blaine-meta-ish things, and the one thing I’d like to pull from it is that Blaine’s getting therapy.  Yup, that’s right, both these boys are getting their heads checked by a professional - and that’s a good thing! Look, I don’t think Kurt and Blaine are going to live a 100% perfect and happy life-  no couple can accomplish that, but the fact that they’re both trying to better themselves is a huge thing, and recognizing that is a step forward in becoming adults (I mean, not even adults make the best choices to better their mental health).  So yeah, they might not patch up things perfectly, but I think there’s a lot of subtext (cause Glee’s always been subtext) that shows they’re both in better places by the time season 6 starts. 

The New Monday Night Dinner

So, because Will is a character again (ug) we start having Monday night dinners at his place (ug, ug).  Okay, it’s not really that - but he’s supposedly having all the show choir directors over for a friendly chat? How convenient that they’re all former students.  And why is Sam there? You know what - I’m not gonna think too hard about this. 

The main thing is that Rachel and Kurt are already having issues being co-directors because it’s Rachel and Kurt. 

And then Blaine arrives and Kurt feels super awkward about it.  I mean how do you act when you’ve dumped the person you love the most in the world and now have to be in a semi-casual social situation with them with your former teacher, former roommate whom your ex once made out with and who will some day carry your child, and former dude whom you both had a crush on.  This show is weird guys.  

Anyway, Kurt’s actually happy to see Blaine - even if Blaine is totally ignoring Kurt’s there.  And then Will turns the conversation to ‘everyone be nice to each other’, which lasts about five seconds when they try to give Blaine some advice about a girl being in the Warblers and Blaine is unsure about it.  It’s awkward.  But hanging out with your ex whom you aren’t actually speaking to at this moment is always gonna be awkward.  

Getting the Gang Back Together

Um, what even is this outfit trying to say, Kurt?  Are you the colorful walking dead? 

Anyway - Rachel and Kurt start their tenure as semi-teachers by organizing sheet music.  And let’s just say it -- they both have the most absurd way of doing it.  Just -- no, genre than artist, that’s it you weirdos.  But of course, Kurt would do it by emotion.  

You know what - say what you will about Kurt and Blaine’s communication -- Rachel and Kurt have by far less communication going on.  They’ve worked for two hours at ‘organization’ before they realized they were doing two different things.  Oh Hummelberry.  

Anyway, we get another argument from them - cause that’s what they do best.  And Kurt basically says what should have been said hours ago - that this is pointless without members.  However, if he’s doing his work study here (don’t ask me to define what exactly his work study is - I don’t get it either), shouldn’t he be proactive, too, in getting kids to sign up?  And what’s with the defeatist attitude Kurt? Kid’s still got issues relating to his break-up.  

(It’s also times like these that I do wish we had gotten a final career related story for Kurt, but alas, all the things we never had). 

Anyway, Kurt storms out as he usually does when having a fight and made his point.  

So - after a scene of Rachel following a disembodied voice to the men’s locker room -- we get Kurt meeting her in the auditorium and, sigh, apologizing for hurting her feelings.  Again.  Cause he’s never done that before.  

I think I’m tired of Hummelberry, guys.  

Anyway - weirdly, he apologizes for the things he said in the previous scene about her life.  Which, um, is weird - cause he didn’t actually take any personal shots at her -- which means they edited out some extra dialogue.  Man, I wish they had left that in - but can’t be too mean to Rachel.  

Anyway - Rachel says, yeah, they have to be proactive in getting people to join us - so she’s pulled in some favors.  Idk why Kurt is so -- who did you bring in Rachel?!?  He could have easily figured it out.  

Well everyone is all the former cast members who are still living and aren’t really part of the main cast anymore.  It’s Homecoming - so it seems fitting.  Though, I have to say.  Everyone looks like they’ve aged about ten years -- which isn’t a bad thing, it just means this little coda of a season would have felt better placed much further in the future.  

Anyway - Kurt’s surprised and happy to see all his old friends.  I have to say though - I miss that Blaine isn’t there.  I know he can’t because plot and the fact they’re trying to reset back to season 2 but still. 

Anyway - who cares if any of this makes sense, we have the gang back together again. 

Go they gather everyone in the choir room and explain that they need help getting the kids to join.  And Kurt’s super frigidity.  Huh.  I think there’s some room to explore Kurt as someone who is an anxious kid with minor OCD tendencies.  Cause that feels very apparent here.  

It’s funny that they rattle on about how much they need their friends to band together and save glee club because the school needs it -- when really, both Rachel and Kurt need it.  I mean, that is kind of the point of this season, but...  it’s just interesting to think about.  I mean, it’ll come full circle when Kurt talks about choosing another path to take at the end of the season.  They both hit rock bottom and now they’re looking for something to fill the space that will help them get back on the right track.  And their cause is saving the glee club.  

Hm.  It’s just interesting that this season of Glee is kind of one last stop in Lima before going out in to the world to really be the person you’re supposed to be.  I’m sorry the story wasn’t developed a tad more (except in the case of Rachel) but that’s what it is.  It’s almost fitting, then that I’m wrapping these up with the same kind of mentality.  It’s nice to have that one last thought and move on.  Anyway -- I’m getting meta on myself, lol... 

So - their brilliant plan is to sing in the school - cause that’s always worked in the past, lol.  And they do an 80s classic - because it’s Glee and the last season and Ryan Murphy has to get in all those hits that he didn’t use yet. 

But I think what stands out to me about this performance is that it’s less about the lyrics (which I don’t think make much sense anyway) and more about the visual style.  They’re recreating the music video, yes, but also adding the same elements of style used in the video -- the whole running from the police (Sue) thing, and it’s really pretty cool.  

You can’t get a really good luck at Kurt’s 80s outfit - but here it is, and this goober is just having a lot of fun dancing on the tables and singing in his high register.  It’s nice that they’ve now fully incorporated Chris’s voice into the group numbers -- especially when he’s not going to be singing much on his own.  

Gay Legacy

So, I guess later that day, Kurt goes to try to recruit the gay football player.  Cause, damn, if Ryan Murphy still is clinging on to his closested football player issues.  I really don’t know why Kurt’s wasting his time -- Spencer obviously doesn’t want to be a part of the team, nor have we seen any indication that he actually has some kind of performing arts talents.  But I suppose this scene is supposed to be a commentary on the current state of the LGBT community.  

Actually, that’s exactly what it’s about and it’s kinda fascinating.  The thing about this conversation is to show just how far things have come from 2009.  Society has become more accepting of the LGBT community (obviously, it’s got a long ways to go - but from when Glee started, a lot of progress has been made).  And we’re now here talking about different types of LGBT people.  Kurt can’t and isn’t the catch all for gay anymore - that definition has widen (even if it’s always been that wide and diverse, we can now, as a society, have that conversation).  And now even gay kids can have various inspiration to pull on - it doesn’t have to be musicals, it can be Modern Family.  And that even though Kurt and Spencer share a preference for men, doesn’t make them any more similar than any other two guys. 

So, yeah, it’s interesting that this scene (and the following one that Kurt’s not in) has less to do with the story and recruitment, as it is Glee’s usual way of knocking down the fourth wall and saying - yeah, okay so we’re not relevant like we used to be, but we did have an impact.  

Meanwhile, in actual story time - we get to remember that Kurt was once on the football team -- and learn that Spencer is an asshole, and I’m still not sure why Kurt’s trying so hard to recruit him. 

Recruitment

Kurt next pops up when Brittany is giving him advice on how to win Blaine back -- which involves burning all his clothes (yes, nude Kurt) but getting normal clothes (um, he’s been dressing ‘normally’ for a while now), and then being honest with him (yes do that!) about being a Barbara Bush impersonator (wtf Brittany?).  Kurt’s equally confused as the rest of us and moves on with his life as he should.  

However - I have to wonder - did they know at this point that Brittany was gonna try to get them back together? I have no idea.  None of Brittany’s actions make sense most of the time, so I shouldn’t think too much about it. 

Meanwhile - the main issue is that they’ve all failed to recruit members - mostly because none of them really know what they hell they’re doing.  But then Roderick’s magical voice floats through the vents (sure) and they’re all mystified and run to go find him.  

They find Roderick in the library - and why do they all look terrifying in this scene?  Come join the cult - Roderick, lol.  Anyway - they get a new member.  

And I’ll take a second and talk about the season 6 newbies - who are actually pretty interesting.  They aren’t cut from the same cloth of the originals as the season 4 newbies, their story lines all converge with existing characters, and we’re not forced to sit through any awkward love triangles.  They served a function and it worked, too bad this didn’t happen way back in season 4 - the show might have lasted longer. 

And then we get a long speech about what it is to be in glee.  Cause apparently we needed that reminder.  Kurt doesn’t say anything but nod in the background as other people give speeches.  Ah yes, we’re back in season 1 again aren’t we. 

Roderick auditions for Glee -- cause tradition - and Kurt... doesn’t really do anything.  But he’s there looking pretty so... 

First Meeting

So, ha, okay.  Roderick is their only recruit and he shows up and Kurt has this nice speech about how you can’t go back again, but maybe you can make something new and better out of the ashes of the old thing.  And I think that’s kind of cool -- because it’s not just about glee or his career, but about his relationship with Blaine.  Like I said earlier, even though they’re all home again, the point is to go in a, god help me, new direction -- one that’s better than before, and as we’re coming to the ending of the show, I kind of like that there’s a sentiment that says - yeah you can and are allowed to start over and do things again.  Second chances are a thing. 

However, they’re stopped quickly because Blaine comes in, screaming about how Jane was poached by Rachel and will now be in New Directions instead of the Warblers.  Blaine, who is clearly still angry (and very confused about his emotions) at Kurt blames Kurt for making it all happen -- which is ridiculous, but c’mon Kurt, Blaine’s allowed to have some residual issues.  Kurt even tries to say that it’s fine because the Warblers have a lot of people and New Directions don’t - but Blaine’s pushing back.  Which is actually a good thing, tbh, even if he is a little off the handle here.  Blaine’s no longer going to be a doormat - and that works much better for the balance of he and Kurt in the long run.  

Kurt and Blaine are on their way to being on equal footing again, but here there’s still a lot of pain that hasn’t been healed yet.  Subtext!! 

Homecoming

Alright, so official glee club has started! And they get two more members as the weird cheerleader twins join.  And it’s all happiness and joy as this new/final chapter has officially begun. 

And then we get the final number - Home - where Kurt gets to sing in his lovely lower register.  :D  And the Homecoming celebration officially starts.  It’s a little weird to see the kids doing something so high school normal, lol, but hey it’s a fun time to celebrate.  

So, um, Kurt, Sam, and Artie go spy on Spencer because -- tradition? I mean, that’s one of the themes of episode.  Let’s go with tradition. 

Anyway, being back is actually kinda bittersweet for Kurt because being back home means that there are still a lot of unresolved issues from the past to deal with. 

Blaine and Karofsky are there - and Blaine is intentionally not looking at Kurt, as Kurt looks like he’s been stabbed in the heart watching from afar.  The song plays on - Home is when I’m with you.  Well, Rachel and Mercedes and McKinley is home, but there’s a bit ‘home’ that’s missing in Kurt’s heart.  We’re gonna get there - but we do have a little ways to go. ;) 

#finding kh #kurt hummel

[whitelippedviper]

Andrea Pazienza's "Mardi Gras Night": Can't Say Shit If You Aren't About Shit

I think in western comics the images are trapped in echo.  On facebook I belong to a comic fan group that posts a lot of Marvel, Image, and DC stuff, mostly geared toward people excited about superhero comics.  Which...I just like that there are people excitedly talking about SOME kind of comic.  Anyways, the other day someone posted a pinup that Amy Reeder had done, and Reeder is a good artist, I like her work fine, I was a really big fan of that Madame Xanadu work she did ages ago--but it was this pin up she did of Swamp Thing.  And it’s just Swamp Thing walking through water in black and white pen and ink.  It’s very by the book both in terms of a pinup and in terms of what you would expect from a Swamp Thing drawing.  It’s this character people like, positioned centrally, doing something vaguely like what they would do--and someone liked it enough to save it, and then share it to the group.  And I thought--what if this image wasn’t of Swamp Thing? What if it was just some guy Reeder made up, in the same pose, drawn the same sort of way--would people still care?  Would as many people still care? I think that’s the edge of something that really strikes me about artists right now in the west.  It’s why there’s usually this huge drop off when an artist goes from drawing superhero stuff for DC and Marvel to doing their own thing.  It’s why you see a lot of artists at cons kind of chained to their table having to draw more DC and Marvel stuff for scratch.  When I tabled with Katie Skelly a few years back in Seattle, that was something that really struck me, because she does commissions--and a lot of the people who would buy her commissions wouldn’t pick up her books as well--or ask her to just draw whatever, or even draw her own characters.  They wanted to leave the con with an icon of their favorite character in a style they thought was nice enough at a fair price.  They don’t really want Amy Reeder’s Rocket Girl, at least not as much as they want her Supergirl.  Which is a thing larger than fan culture.  It’s like you just want that poster of Christ to hang on your wall, and you don’t care if it looks like dumb as fuck.  The image isn’t really there, just its placeholder.  And that’s inside of comics too.  I read a lot of comics where people are doing images in certain spots because that’s the spot they are supposed to be in, if that makes sense. Like for example, a last page shocking reveal has a formula that the audience reacts to and artists play to, especially in event books. This emptiness becomes especially problematic given the homogeneous nature of the demographics of the people most visibly making comics, particularly when married to their newfound predilection toward branding themselves as allies to the marginalized.  It’s like, I need a black body in this space, and it doesn’t matter how or why or in service of what--just so long as I put it in there, then job done.  The  recent(note: originally wrote this when it was recent) ignorant bliss podcast on the Dilraj Mann Island cover gets into this quite a bit.   A society built on vacuous imagery will BE vacuous.  If our images lose value, then we lose voice, art loses meaning, and you end up fucking with people for no reason to no end, just because you have nothing to say.  And I’m not even saying this as like a social justice position.  Take that iconic page Ditko did of Spider-man trying to push up this huge machine while water floods in around him--a page so iconic that if you’ve seen it at all you automatically know exactly what image I’m referring to.  You don’t have to know Spider-man to get that page.  To feel the heroic effort, and weight of pushing against that machinery.  That image isn’t just an echo or placeholder.  It is the thing it’s depicting.

So I’ve been reading the Andrea Pazienza Zanardi collection that Fantagraphics put out this year.  And this question of value to the image comes up in my reading.  Because to me, Paz is this unrestrained expressionism in comics--his devotion to the image is so total that style cannot contain it.  There’s almost a mania to his work trying to exorcise these images from his soul.  “Mardi Gras Night” isn’t the work that’s the absolute best example of this because the linework is mostly taking a backseat to the painting--but I think of all of the comics in the Zanardi collection, it’s the most interesting to me because even though it is a very base, mean, nihilistic story about some cute italian boys pillaging a religious all-girls boarding school it is also a comic of completely holy images.  Stuff that you can only explain with the image itself.  Stuff that sticks with you for days on end, rolling around in your brain.  These aren’t empty placeholder images, even though they are in the service of a story that is so debauched.

This image in particular is the one that haunts me.  It’s this silent panel of Petrilli and Zanardi pouring alcohol on the floor of this boarding school, that they plan to ignite.  I think in general when “Mardi Gras Night” pivots from boys sneaking into an all-girls school to see naked women, to like...arson is generally the point in the story, where you are kind of stop like “wait? What the fuck?  Surely not” and right before they set the fire it’s this panel.  It’s like the way that the alcohol matches the leotards, but also sits on top of the floor like blood, and that it’s pissing out of Zanardi in the foreground...and the way that Zanardi and Petrilli are leaned like they are performing some kind of ritualistic dance.  This pagan thing in the middle of all of these crosses.

It’s this moment where the story turns from “boys peeping on girls” to a story of ecstatic religious terrorism.  There’s a pit here that you fall into.  And the pages after this are panel after panel of the boys grabbing panicked women by the hips and breasts and running around like sexual mass shooters against the backdrop of crosses and screaming nuns while the fire they’ve started grows proportionally like a bright purifying jizz.

And you’re like “what the fuck am I reading?”.  It’s beautiful and insane, and then as the boys get away from the fire, the colors cool for a minute, and the weight of the human repercussions of their actions hits Petrilli so hard he folds himself over at the crotch in anxiety before running back in to save the trapped Roberta.

  And even as he is carrying her through the flames like some great hero, he’s still grabbing at her naked breast and butt--and it’s such an insane space to be in, because Petrilli CAUSED the fire.  It was him and his friend’s raging boners that started the whole thing.  Petrilli manages with one last grope of Roberta’s ass to push her to safety, as he is now himself closed off within the burning building.  And the comic warps into this hell.  Petrilli’s leotard and hair melt off.  His skin boils and pops.  His eyes become orange and red pools of pain, and when he finally gets out of the main part of the fire, it’s to these steaming tiles which scald him further--he’s become this grotesque impotent goblin man, screaming to God to give him mercy and end his pain, and then Paz draws him in this blasphemous Pieta pose of tiny dicked broiled Petrilli before the building collapses in on him.  Grace, Paz style.

Even without Cola’s deeply ironic “moral” of the story where Petrilli becomes a lionized hero of the community the fucking like...old school profanity of the thing hits like a wall of bricks.  It’s such a vicious repudiation of heroism, of religious morality, and even of masculinity(here masculinity manages to encompass both rapist and heroism very comfortably!).  And it’s for sure incredibly base, with panels of Zanardi sniffing women’s underwear--but it scales so quickly to these holy images.  I don’t think I’ve read anything like it before.  I mean there are other great Zanardi stories that I’m going to write about eventually, but “Mardi Gras” is a really special comic. I keep coming back to this, which I spoke about in my Ranx article, when we talk about transgression in comics, for a lot of people, that just means they get to say “faggot” or draw a lynching of a person of color, or like draw muslims in horribly hateful ways.  But their shit is so stupid.  They don’t really care about any of this shit.  They might as well write their scripts in tongues for how articulate they are--for how much value there is behind what they’re doing.  It’s empty and passionless iconography done simply to continue an echo.  

But Paz says shit.  I mean like it’s literal shit, but it’s the truth of the shit.  The shit has weight and stench.  You can hold it in your hands and you won’t forget the day you held this shit.  The man has seen a good painting in his life.  He’s read a book or two.  He’s not saying shit just because he has nothing to say, but somehow since he can draw, he has to fill up the page and do the job--there’s so much force behind his work.  Even when it is ridiculous, style can’t contain him.  That’s what the page says to me. There’s meaning here, even if it was just “I felt the conviction of this line, this story, this thing and so I made it”--it’s not cynical, it’s pure.  And not only that, it’s pure AND the man is a master artist.  Which I think is something of a theme for the work I’ve focused on this year in my comics criticism.  And I do it because that’s what I see as lacking for the most part.  Like a lot of comics day to day I feel like is asking me to read books that are both compromised AND look and read like shit.  And there’s things like this that come out and you don’t hear a single peep about them.  A quick glance at google only turned up one review, a negative one on Paste that complained about how the book was too mean with a closing paragraph about the art being “somehow compelling”--which someday I need to write an essay about how for as supposedly progressive as people in comics position themselves as, their POV on a lot of things just sounds like your parents.  I swear comics these days is a lot of adults wanting themselves to be raised by comics they can aspire to, rather than art they can think about.  I mean imagine being an adult unable to process art because it is too violent, or has sex in it.  I had parents growing up, I don’t need a comic critic parent as an adult, thank you very much.  But I mean that goes back to it.  When the shit that is being put out are these empty echoes bereft of anything but their iconic placeholders it’s hard to really say there is much there to consider as an adult.  But then when there is stuff like this put out, it’s not shared around, no one reads it or talks about it, they’re too busy swapping icons of their childhood--and I’m just like...wtf are you here for?  You know you don’t get to actually be a kid again, and that time is ticking, death is coming--demand something so great that you sound like an idiot trying to explain it to anyone!

If you liked this essay, and want to see more like it, subscribe to Sarah Horrocks’s Patreon.  For as little as a dollar a month you can help a comic topic in need get the coverage it deserves.

#My Writing #Zanardi #Sarah Horrocks

[miraimisu]

These Stones We Skip | C̷͓̮̳͒͂̓̈́ha̷̖͖̯̙̫̜̋͑͝pt̵̨͍̂̈́̔͑̔̆͜eȑ̷̝̤̙̺͂͜͝ 1

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[Read at FF.net]

[Read at AO3.]

Summary: Uraraka had nothing else left to do there.  D̴̛͙̣̠͚̯͊͐̂̒̅̈́̚̕id̶͓͍̖̟̱͉̔̅̈́͆̈́́̈́̽͜͝ ̸̜͕̯͔̙̊͒̈́͌̈̈́͠s̵̨͖̮͕̞̝̪̞̟͓̋̎̀͝ḩ̶̡̛̛̹͉̊͊͛̓̀̾e?̷̛̳̲̝̠͉̮̝̱̺͖͌̚

Rating: T because of obvious reasons such as Bakugou and swearing children. And it’s an AU. Medieval AU.

Word count: it’s fucking long get over it

Author’s note: /finally reaches the point she wnated to reach in a sole chapter, looks back and sees like 200k worth in work and rethinks life choices. I am so damn tired of uni and stuff I literally had zero time and motivation to do stuff though I had Ath and the discord squad to help me through it, so like??? I am BLESSED???? so now I puke this out and will prolly take a long shit breakOR NOT? idk tbh

/bathes in glitter

Warnings: it’s long, it’s messy, OLD SCHOOL MIRAI :V IT’S AN SUPER IMPORTANT CHAP I COULDN’T WRITE WELL ENOUGN BUT IT’S FINE I’LL REWRITE ONE DAY AAAAAAAAAAAA

I’ll very likely have to edit this once I am over this chapter and repair any little plotholes I may have poked.

I just hope GOOGLE DOCS hasn’t munched nothing of this fic or left words out.

"Excuse me, how much gold did you say?"

The lady behind the counter frowned at her with a excruciating look that wouldn't have anyone leaving disappointed, yet the brunette found herself being pissed beyond recognition, hands balled into fists and an unkeen expression of vexation written all over her face. "I don't think that petty sack will do, girly."

At this, Uraraka had no other option but to frown and sigh at the little amount of gold she had left. After a wild night of roaming around the streets of the Capital, curing her bruises and doing some very needed mild exploring, the girl had mindlessly made her way into this little shop to do some very needed shopping the following morning. And the next morning, and the next one too, to the point that they had been staying at the Capital for almost a week now and Uraraka would come to the very same spot, every same hour, to wait for a good enough staff to buy.

Their reason for their stay was both infuriating and stressful. The moment Uraraka entered their residence and found the whole guild reunited – the mysterious book had been hidden under her uniform until she could decipher its meaning – and saw the frown adorning everyone's faces, she knew something had happened, or rather, something hadn't happened.

Yaoyorozu was the first one to step up and face the facts. "We filled out some papers to request a meeting with Gunhead, but it looks like there is this massive–"

"This massive shitty bureaucracy that won't let a full-fledged guild request a meeting with somebody of importance." had grunted Bakugou, sitting criss-cross on a posh chair that looked damn ancient, but he didn't seem to have much respect for it. He surely made a terrible human being. "We are supposedly buried in a big ass queue of some sorts. And we got no damn clue as to when we will get to the end of it."

Midoriya had looked understanding, yet irritation crossed his features briefly before facing Uraraka. "This is a usual process in minor communities, but seeing such important region be clogged up in requests doesn't put me at ease." mumbled the boy, a hand to his chin and drifting his eyes to the floor, unfocused. "Such wealthy and valuable organisation should work like a clock, but it seems rusted over. I don't want to know how buried in dirt these guys are if it looks so shady, I just can't–"

After that, Uraraka had decided to ignore him, and judging by everyone's bored and inattentive expressions at the troubled leader, there had been no way to save him. Jack had sighed, sitting by the leader, and had looked at Uraraka with the usual dead look that always gave her creeps in more than one way. "Bakugou told us about it all, more like raged over it."

Instead of expressing himself with the usual brashness expected of him, he had just plastered this bored, tired face on and craned his head to her. "Don't fucking expect me to be happy about being ignored."

The brunette had unconsciously hugged the book closer to her chest from underneath her cloak, and closed her eyes in silent ponderation. Her hands twitched to mess with her hair again, but that would let the book fall to the floor and she knew better than to show it to the world so soon. Instead, she had rocked a bit on her toes, and let her imagination flow into the image of secretaries conspiring against them while they stood on the very same hallway, and ominous eyes peering over them. It sent a shudder down her spine and there was no happiness in how everyone noticed her distress.

Before being asked, the girl had vigorously rushed to answer. "It is disturbing that administration here is slow, but I don't know. It's possible that RampAge is doing more damage to this town than we see."

At her meek words, Midoriya had snapped out of his ramble and looked at her. "Did you see anything?"

Her eyes had sparkled somewhat, having, for once something to answer with. "As I walked to the cathedral in town, I somehow warped to the street right in front of it, but I am plenty sure I was at least two avenues away judging by the paviment change and that the buildings were different in size." because Uraraka was no fool, and she had memorised the path back to the residence in case she ever needed some solace. "I wanna think that that's what it was and there was no actual person purposefully aiming at me to confuse me."

Bakugou's eyes had rolled back into a groan, and this was the first time she found herself affected by such gesture. "For fuck's sake, now there's scum trying shit against my people?" her eyes had widened a little, but he hadn't seen that. "Whatever. We gotta wait for the queue to be finished and go on with our lives. I seriously hope this doesn't drag for longer because I ain't messing with such an important issue."

She had wished for some reality knocking at her door because really, she shouldn't have read into his reaction that much, but the fact that he somehow hadn't flipped the table and insulted her for, who knows, being so self-centered to think someone was after her, or probably be paranoid on stuff? it felt nice. No, scratch that, it had felt pleasing that he not only hadn't insulted her, but had actually included her in his group of people.

After some chitchatting, she had excused herself to bed and left both the book and her thoughts rest for the night – she didn't know the danger that loomed over her with both notions staying in the same room, but reason would come to tackle her soon enough.

For said reason the girl was desperately searching for a new weapon. The fact that the Capital was so shaken with a foe like RampAge made her jump into action and start requiping herself to be on par with her peers, and this was the day in which Uraraka found a scepter to her liking, shape and prowess.

A part of her felt kind of intimidated by the powerful vibe of the weapon, yet after chewing over it for some time, she decided to barge into the shop and buy it.

But she didn't think about how much it costed, hence the current situation. She had been busy buying healing supplies to practice her alchemy lessons with Asui – there were not many good quality elements outside the walls, so the girl had suggested purchasing them for a change – and some new clothes, along with some studying supplies and new gloves for her to practice hand-on-hand combat.

She was flat broke.

Her shoulders deflated a notch and another sigh rolled off her lips, as those stressful memories were all but useful for the time being. She truly was all over the place today, and her hands started to fidget uncomfortably at the set of eyes on her, waiting for an answer.

Uraraka blinked once, twice, and started pulling her fists up and down in a fussed plea. Her eyes darted from the precious scepter to the attendant. "I may have some goods to sell! I certainly need that scepter for a very important battle and–"

The woman tsked, adjusting her bandana around her head and sorting supplies around. "You don't look like much of an explorer, I doubt you got anything worth keeping, shorty."

The sorcerer crossed her arms even tighter because indeed, she was a bit short, but that didn't mean she wasn't any less fierce on the battlefield! In fact, it was one of the traits that made her such a remarkable teammate, that she was cute, yet a powerhouse. And it sucked that no one would see it that way but her and a few others.

Yet, it was true that she didn't have much of worth in her pockets. Sure, she had spare gems to sell, but they were needed for invocations and like hell she'd give them to such a nasty seller like her. The scepter had much less battle value than invocations of choice. Still, her eyes would dart ever so often at the sparkly weapon, and she felt ever so frustrated at seeing her plan stagger off-road.

Sighing, she silently told the seller that she was giving up, and the woman padded off somewhere to mind her own business, leaving Uraraka momentarily alone in the shop. The small, cozy shop was cluttered with glass galleries and shelves full of useless stuff explorers had picked along their ways: from broken kettles to shards of porcelain. Some parts were dusty, others a bit crusty, but some cleaning would fix up the place.

As her feet trudged along the wooden floor, Uraraka heard busy stepping from the main entrance, and tucked between a counter full with cloaks and old clothing by mere instinct. Such hurry in their speed didn't put her at ease, lest they had come for some shady business in this local shop. She truly didn't wish to be included in local scandals, even more while being an actual force to be feared.

Unless everyone had that woman's view on her.

Then, she was good to go.

As the chatter near her died down a little, she sighed in relief and bent back up, only to make a shelf topple and the clothes fell off the wooden plank, scattering at her feet unceremoniously. This made her jump and immediately dive down to gather them together and quickly fold them, patting them when she set them on the cabinet again. She folded her hands behind her back and strolled around the shop languidly.

Though, the clothes had looked so awkwardly thick for her, heavy and recovered. She was sure she hadn't seen them around her village, and the thought wouldn't go off her head, so she continued down that path. Yaoyorozu and Kirishima had told her the temperatures there tended to be lower than usual, because their village was nearer to the coast whereas the Capital was conveniently located near the mountains. It brought to mind how having actual coats would help her during their fight against RampAge, as it was meant to be carried out inside an actual mountain. She sure wouldn't be going anywhere with thin clothing like her actual one.

As this thought crossed her mind, she came across an incredibly fluffy brown coat hanging from a lonely hanger, gathering some dust on its suede and fur. It was overall an incredibly thick fabric with tons of layers and a super smooth, dense filling. Whoever did this was an expert artisan, and such unique piece couldn't go to waste.

Uraraka picked it up from the hanger and inspected it from a closer perspective, and tried to put it on. The cowl reached her ankles and she practically swam in it, as the sleeves hung loose on her arms and the hoodie covered a large part of her head. The fur tickled her hands and face, the suede hugging her skin and the fabric, overall, making her start to sweat. The coat would keep her undeniably warm, her body felt hot and she hadn't used it for more than a minute.

The cowl was folded on her arm and Uraraka contently walked to the counter again, proud to have found something useful. "How much does this cost?"

The woman looked from her dashing smile to the old clothing on the girl's hands. By the looks of it she didn't even recall having it in her store. She arched an eyebrow at her customer. "That thing must have been getting dirt and all kinds of stuff back there where you found it, I didn't even remember having this in store."

Finding this to be rather weird, the brunette looked at her goodie in surprise and mild disappointment. "Could someone have forgotten it there?"

"With what purpose? It's not like people go there and leave their things around. Had I seen this laying around during night shifts and I would have known it wasn't mine." the woman gingerly took the cowl and angled it around, either to search for any loose patches or gauge its value. Probably the latter. "Besides, it does look old and if it's been here for so long with no one reclaiming it, it must be mine."

The woman talked about the product dismissively. However, she wasn't letting it go. Uraraka reached out for it. "Well, in that case…" the shop owner handed it to her again, thinking about the touch and probably assigning a thousand prices to it. "how much will you ask for it?"

Surprisingly, the woman curled a finger around her chin, and sighed with a shake of her head. "No price. I can't price something as ugly and ancient as that, and if it were of some worth, somebody would have bought it or stolen it, judging by how at the back it was. And you seem pretty innocent, I don't think you'd try to scam me even if you wanted to."

She didn't knew if this was a compliment and that made for terrible judgement on her part. "Does that mean I can take it for free?"

"Sure, just as long as you make good use of it."

Uraraka turned heel from the store and hummed contently to herself while marching off the doors, feeling accomplished and having the ponent air brush her towards the residences, yet she turned and smiled to the woman. "No worries, I'm sure this will be plenty useful. Thank you very much, see you!"

The door to the shop closed with a clank of the bell, and the shop clerk couldn't help but stare at the light being shed from the windows, face neutral in deep pondering. "What a shiny girl." she then grabbed a jaded cloth and started wiping the counter. "Definitely a keeper."

The night was cold, the breeze full of bites and the starry sky full of satellites blasting through the space, and her eyes turned dusky and molten at the feeling of being small, fingers outstretched towards a reality that was too out of reach, but that would someday come to break her free.

The brunette sprawled her digits into the cold air and touched the moonlight, splitting it in front of her to cover her brown eyes. A small wind toyed with her tousled locks, brushed her slender neck. Late days in the village had become like a blur of steps taken in messy directions, something akin to nostalgia sketched in her features, determination mixed with so many feelings that were unknown to her, but forces of fate were pushing her forward to untangle them, keep her head up–

and it terrified her.

Uraraka curled her hand into a fist and looked at it wistfully, keeping it close to her in a silent plea. That little nagging voice of reason was somewhat quiet tonight, making every step she took look lost, misunderstood, horrid and disturbing, as if she was taking a step closer to the devil's ditch with each of her decisions. No matter how many hardships she faced, no matter how many steps she took, why did it all seem like there was no advance whatsoever?

Putting her fist on the base of her collarbone, Uraraka turned to look into her bedroom, catching a glimpse of the black, dusty book on her boureau, waiting to be opened. It was in moments like these when she started to realize how twisted the truth could be, after her talk with that man at the church, and the book that had been haunting her thoughts one day, and the next, and the next and today.

There was a part of her that wanted to throw the book off, because playing beneath the guild's surface and diving into the darkness without their light sounded so wrong to her, like cheating, like being evil, being the enemy. Her head hung low in shame, disappointed by how things had been twisted, how people had twisted her, to the point of no return, to this day when she was going to take a peek into the other side of the coin.

It just felt wrong. It was like the reaper chasing her from above and just waiting in silence for her to make the wrong move and slay her, but there was no moment in which Uraraka found fear in her actions, or regret,. If anything, she regretted having to do this behind her guild's back, as this was not what she had promised herself. The unquenchable thirst of her heart for disclosure, for differentiation on the path she was taking– it was slowly eating her alive.

Bakugou had soothed her, her guild had calmed her, but the storm in that man's dead eyes, chaos twirling like a ballerina and dazzling her like a soothing star. It was a flipped side of the same object, one thrown into shade and one washed over in sunshine. Her heart was determined to find the truth, her brain was dying inside, fearful by what she may find inside that may swap things around.

But, stepping inside the room, that couldn't be real, right? She had strong morals, capacity and will– but she also needed to see, seek and chase after what her mind was focused on: the truth, her abilities, her prowess, who she is meant to be. One of the sides had the key to all mysteries, and all she had to do was discern which one would unlock the right door.

A little sigh rolled off her bruised lips, overbitten by anxiety and rusted by wounds, but they still held the same meaning. No matter how much time passed, it was still her.

The sorcerer pushed the chair out and sat down, wrapping her shawl around her shoulders and lighting up a candle with her fingers– she immediately regretted her decision, as her hand felt instantly cold moments after, and it was all but a pleasant sensation. Using heat in cold weathers like these, with no other fire source, was an immediate mistake on her part. With no elements to bend, she needed to create them out of her own body, and it always backfired.

Uraraka hissed at the flame, yet was satisfied by seeing it open. Her fingers traced the thick cover of the black book, swatting some dust off. Despite the worth that the book seemed to have for the man, it sure looked ancient and mistreated, yet the paged looked pristine. This book had been used, and it have her this sense of dread, sweat drowning her in anxiety and somewhat giddiness.

She opened the book, and her eyes were met with big words written at its top, what she was least expecting to see. Uraraka recited the word with shaking voice. "RampAge."

There was a close-in sketch of the monster on the dirtied pages, oranged with age, but only a few parts were visible, as there were stains and erase marks on some points, dirty with ink and oblivion. There were some environmental elements sketched around it, and even the detail of some people scarcely drawn at the bottom, facing the stained sketch. One of them even had a hat like hers, and heavy clothing too.

Trembling, Uraraka turned the page, and there were some details noted down at a side along with some other drawings. "Ice." breathed she, taking in a crisp breath. "Is this… why they are so afraid of ice?" because after all, Jack had mentioned ice represented time stopping, disgraces occurring, idleness and solitude. Did this have to do with this monster?

Possibilities were high, but that was another story. For now, she at least knew what element it was made of: a cursed element. Pretty suiting. All she knew was that Bakugou could actually try to face the monster with his ability if there was an opening to attack on him, but strategies were another story and she was pretty sure they were already aware of this information, but had never had the opportunity to explain to her.

After all, this book, despite its ominous presence, seemed to be throwing light in pretty unimportant matters. Why was this a thing, then?

"Stands idle, doesn't use direct, individual attacks." read Uraraka off the book, squiting to make out the fine hand writing in the flickering light. "Unbeatable with gradual attacks, only beatable with nuke raiding. Physical rejection. Which means… it depends more on power than coordination."

It kind of explained why Bakugou's so called 'prior troops of exploring' hadn't been able to tackle this foe, because they thought that group power and wearing it off would defeat the monster. Judging by the book, it didn't look like it. However, then again, why was she trusting this source of information? And why was she the one, of all people, to know of this?

Uraraka turned to the first page again and caressed the drawing gingerly. The sensitive part of her body was completely quiet to see things unfold, and there was no fiber of her that deemed this book to be unreliable. The cover was worn off at the sides, used many times, and the fact that such encounter with the ghostly man actually occurred and he had given her this was a seller for her. Uraraka bit her lip at the illustrations she had missed around the big stained monster.

There were some lines around the monster, as if to silhouette the scrapes of a mountain. There were some holes and bricks meticulously drawn in there, they looked like buried bridges in the stone of the mountain, she traced them with care, eyebrows furrowed at the precision and care in the drawing. The picture looked bleak, cold, as if it was a lifeless husk only inhabited by those people fighting against the monster.

Her eyes drifted again and again towards the little scribble of a sorcerer on the battlefield, as if her eyes could nothing else but gravitate towards it. There were no stars, no animals, no nature, no nothing in the picture, yet it attracted her so much for a reason she couldn't see yet, but would understand soon enough.

Her frown grew severe, still tracing the figure of the semi-hidden bridge absent mindedly. There was this little shape of something she deemed to be a stair to it embedded to the walls, yet she couldn't quite make out its purpose. For now, she tried to focus on what was important here, which were actually two things: one, how did that man know… all this information, so specific? (because as she peeked on, there were even some measurements on the beast, its nature, etc), and two, what were they supposed to do with that monumental gap in sizes?

Uraraka made a rough approximation and reckoned that RampAge was at least two cathedrals tall, whereas they were not even a tenth of that amount. This enemy was… a monstrosity, the knot tying all times together in a mess, whose destruction could mean other letting the strings fall into place, get messier, or just shatter. Her head tilted a bit more into the book, as if to grasp it's whole meaning. She ended up smelling the closed scent of it, ash and metal.

Of course this was a hinder for her first way around it, which was having Bakugou and Todoroki nuke the shit out of him, but there was no way they would, as their fire forte came from their abilities, and the same way her zero gravity had backfiring, theirs would too. Since the monster was made of ice, an all-on attack with a fire element would work out most efficiently, and that was probably the reason why the leaders had approved of taking her along.

But deep inside, there was this deep, gnawing feeling of distress bubbling to be free. Her eyes dulled at the question pending on her head. "Why… me?" her eyes gleamed in a distraught flicker of doubt. "I'm not… that reliable."

Was it because she was a sorcerer? She wasn't entirely sure, but the fact that a book with such specific data had fallen in her hands, from a man she didn't know yet felt… connected to, in a deeper way she'd never understand, and somebody so dark affiliated with Shinsou that was probably all but good news, yet wanted her to know this specific thing about RampAge: its element, they keys to defeat that monster.

Shinsou had never been interested in helping them out, yet guided her to what would end up being the absolute solution to their problems. A part of her was awfully suspicious of how incoherent their actions were, but didn't judge them: after all, they were helping her guild out, and no matter what they all knew about RampAge, perhaps there was more information in that book than they knew about.

She was torn between giving them the book and keeping it to herself. Pursing her lips, Uraraka leant further into her chair, making it sway a little as she digged deeper into her thoughts. It occurred to her that Shinsou and his elder probably deemed her to be able to defeat RampAge on her own, which was a little bit of a stretch. True, sorcerers could theoretically summon as much power as they wanted to, making her invincible against any foe– but her body, it was too frail to sustain such thing, RampAge being too strong and needing a much higher attack than what she could take.

Uraraka had the brute expertise to make it happen, and all she truly needed was the will, but she wasn't so suicidal to go headlessly into a battlefield, knowing her guild would kick her out if she tried being reckless again, so that wasn't much of an option. Besides, she had training to do with Bakugou and a crew to help her get stronger, she had ties here. It wasn't like she was the only one who could defeat it or anything.

But let's take it a step further and imagine she actually wanted to go and face him on her own – it was a bitter thought, but for some reason, Uraraka gave it an insane amount of thought. The place described in the pictures seemed icy, cold, probably glacial, and the only way to kill off such monumental monster was using fire. Uraraka very much doubted there was any source of fire around there, and the only way to create such magnificent fire would be her own–

And suddenly, a tiny, insignificant piece fell on its place, knocking a bucket of ice and making it drench Uraraka to the core with this treacherous feeling of despair, fear and sudden realization, as if all knots had been tied together and, again, this sense of chasing chance had caught her in its claws again, making her turn again to face what lay on the back of the room.

The cowl stood on the hanger by her bed, still as thick, fluffy and undeniably hot as it had been before, as if the keys and locks of predestination had been entwined and, suddenly, she was confused again, outrunning the sharp blade of a sword that had been pulled at her from the very beginning, a menace she hadn't seen until it had been in front of her. It was as if the cloak had been there all her life, like this simple and blatant solution, making cold sweat coat her thin skin as this sick, awful plan sketched itself in her mind, as if it had always been there all the time, waiting for her.

Before she could reach out for the menacing piece of clothing, there was a knock on the door.

Uraraka secured her shawl around her shoulders and stiffened at the soreness of her legs, yet made the way to the door regardless. There was another knock, then the door opened with a creak. The face behind it wasn't one she expected.

His fist lingered in the air, as if ready to knock again, and he arched an eyebrow at her seemingly tired shape. "Bakugou." breathed the brunette, feeling air return to her lungs again. She couldn't deny that seeing him around was a pleasure after such throbbing experience. "What are you doing here? Isn't it like–"

"Fuking late." finished he sharply. The flicker of candles outside hammered his body under the light, and it occurred to her that she could have snatched one for her bedroom. Also, his body was covered with a different, darker cape this time. Probably a fixer-upper for the loss of the last one. "I can't sleep and we have stuff to do."

This time around, unlike other times, he waited for her to catch up, probably understanding that is was way past midnight and surprisingly not mad at her not being asleep. Either he knew she'd be awake or he didn't give a shit about it. "Hold on, what do we exactly have to do?"

He was clearly expecting some other question, for he whipped his cape and marched off the door, almost angry. Uraraka was almost forced to follow suit, grabbing the key to her room and sprinting to him, falling into pace a bit later. "I promised you to train, didn't I?" true to that, he had promised, but after all the hassle with RampAge and travelling they hadn't really had energy, time or space to do so. "We've been slacking off because of all this shit that has come up, but you ain't free of a beating once in a while."

Yeah, nobody said he was smooth with words, and time and lack of energy were making his blood boil. After all, he was also pressured by tangling timelines and the Capital's clog to even remember about Uraraka. Remembering about their little date had been so out of the blue that he hadn't had other option but march straight to her door, and realize she was exactly what he needed. No matter where she was, he'd go hunt her down if necessary.

When Bakugou set himself a goal, there was no way he'd be letting it go that easily. Looking behind him, such sentence became truer than words would ever express. Uraraka then glanced up at him, panic flickering into her eyes and making him smirk. That was a call. "Why so late, though? We will have enough time tomorrow and–"

"We've been supposedly summoned to meet Gunhead tomorrow afternoon, and we will go as far as we can 'til RampAge's location."apart from the alarming amount of anger in his voice, apart from the truth behind them, his swearing wasn't getting any better. No wonder she found herself doing so more often now. She hoped he wouldn't be using her body as a punching bag. "We'll be leaving this fucking place tomorrow, no matter what the Capital decides to do about us. Honestly, I don't give a crap anymore."

"Wait, but isn't that too soon?" asked Uraraka, hurrying to stand completely to his side, then leap forward and stop his stride. "Like, this isn't Pyrox, or that foul giant lizard at the canyon! This enemy is actually important, Baku–"

She didn't know why, she truly didn't, but when he pushed her arms down and wordlessly marched forward without her, it stung. And not a little sting, but more of a tug, something noticeable that spread like wildfire and fueled her to pry even further. Uraraka jumped backwards and met his side, only to find him grimacing at her insistence. "Stop nagging me, you get so annoying sometimes."

"Will you listen to me this once?" of course he wouldn't, he'd march off to the door like he always fucking did, because nothing changed and there was this part of her that, despite having promised not to, was getting tired of it. "We are being too reckless about this!"

Bakugou kicked the door open without any kind of recognition for what she was going through, as always. She still ran after him, closing the door before it fell off its hinges. "Enough of this shit, Uraraka. This ain't your choice to make–"

"Neither it's yours!"

"What did I say about interrupting me?"

"What did I say about dismissing me as if I was a fucking child, Bakugou?" counterattacked she, watching him casually stretch as if the situation, as if she was nothing, and swearing couldn't be helped when he was being such a hassle on her shoulders. "You are entitled to carry out decisions and actions in our behalf, but you can't actually make them for…"

His face had turned grim, shoulders shaking, and that was when she realized that she had crossed the line once again, something unfathomable breaking inside of him and it somehow made her fearful to the bone of what he was feeling, of how he would act, because she had never seen him more disturbed than now. Something blatantly obvious hung in front of her, but she didn't want to make half-assed assumptions.

All she knew was that, first, RampAge was very probably more than an enemy to him, and just now he was proving her so and further, seeing his actions before they parted, his passionate hatred towards it against everyone's fear and mild disdain towards it. Everyone seemed to acknowledge and assume RampAge was a fue, whereas Bakugou knew it was.

Secondly, Bakugou was pulling a massive scimitar from his back, one that sure wasn't wielded for elegant knights. She wasn't sure what to do with this but push herself into a fighting position and frown at him, sparks flying to her eyes the moment their eyes met, that iridescent connection flickering alive once again. Coal fire met coffee brown, but his eyes… they didn't hold the cruel, teasing glint to them she grew to be fond of– they were heavy, burdened.

That man… it wasn't the Bakugou she once knew.

"Shut up." mumbled he between gritted teeth, earning a hardened glare from her. "I'm always fucking telling you to… but you never fucking quit!"

With a swing of his scimitar, Uraraka would have brought to her knees during their first fight, but this time she was capable to land to her feet gracefully this time around. Uraraka let out a small pant, because this wouldn't be another fight to fool around. Sincerely? She was glad it was that way.

Seeing her remain mostly unaffected, Bakugou frowned at her kneeling body, and regained his composure when she got back to her feet again. "What's the hold up now, Bakugou?" tempted she with a malicious smile that made something snap in him, snap badly. Uraraka brought her arm back, charging up. "I would have never thought of you as a quiter!"

The brunette urged her fist forward, making a tremendous wave of impact crash with his body and make his feet hiss against the cobblestone pavement of the residence's courtyard. Be removed a smudge of mud from his cheek, eyes never faltering from ire and darkness. "You don't know who the fuck you're talking to, then!"

Bakugou was quick on his feet to charge up his scimitar with heat from his ability and ran at full speed towards her, not expecting her to dodge so quickly to a side and kick him on the ribs, propelling herself off his side and landing far from his rolling body in a cloud of dust, the wave from before still rippling underground. Mental images of countless pages ruffled past her, and her fingers met in a familiar sign.

"Walker Guardian, Summon!" chanted she, making a gigantic lion spark by her side and rush at top speed towards Bakugou's body, to which he responded with a quick recover and a hand to his wrist, calling out a explosion that not only helped him stab the lion to dust without much thought, but also helped her realize that no novice spell would work against the powerhouse.

The leader was able to reach her and, with a swing of his scimitar, he bruised her right arm with a stab that had her screaming in pain, her body becoming alive and scorching as blood rushed to that wound, spilling out the moment she made a reckless move with the same arm to send Bakugou back to place, a barrier of fire urging him to step back. Her mind pulled a blank as a bubbling feeling sparked inside of her, determination switching in intensity, yet never dimming.

And no matter how hurt she looked, his looks didn't seem to lighten up, like they would have once. Bakugou ignored his trembling, burning hand to look at her quietly, how she hissed and the raw intensity in her eyes to fucking burn him to pieces. But somehow, there was no contentment in his heart like there would have once been, he… he wasn't enjoying the view. The blood, it didn't look as beautiful as it should.

Still, he bit his tongue and sprung right back at her, only to be met with a strong gust of wind slowing him down as Uraraka leaped around the courtyard to avoid his strike zone. Small slates of pavement clicked off the ground under his furious steps, watching her send small attacks that barely grazed his skin. All of it, done with her injured arm.

"What the fuck are you trying to prove with this, Uraraka!?" demanded he, staying idle to see her land for once. At this, she didn't even respond, only grimaced and charged another swing with her hand, sending an endless stream of vines off the ground to tackle him, which he cut through with a swing of his scimitar. She sure was getting used to hand wielded magic. "Fucking make it stop, already!"

But make what stop, wondered Uraraka. Her expression turned kinder for a second before remembering who this man was, what he was capable of doing to her despite their complicated story together. She was already panting, probably due to sleep deprivation, but no one but his attacks would bring her down. There was no way out of it now.

Uraraka sliced the air with two of her fingers and a slam of her boot on the ground, making the ground stand up once again and send him back in a much stronger movement, along with all the slates that had gone flying that went straight to bury his body in rubble and dust. She had no big debris to work with, and using elemental magic at such dark time was never a good idea, not in a minor yet… actually major fight like this.

Because something seemed so out of ordinary in here. His movements were still as brazen, yet more calculated and precise. He moved slowly, cautious, but still as angry. It's as if she was seeing a new face of him she had never even known about, and she was dying to see more of it, know what was this he needed from her this late in the night.

She didn't know how long they stood there, fighting in the night. Silence enveloped them as people slept, but they remained restless against the other, his sword piercing her skin and her magic and kicks melting his skin like plaster. And yet, nothing changed.

When her wounds bled, there was no enjoyment. When she screamed, there was no joy in him. And the shock after witnessing both her pain and the loss of insanity in his charade against her… it was driving him fucking crazy.

The leader removed a bead of sweat from his cheek and jumped to his feet with his arm, his capacities all but lost. He was quickly met with an intense slash of energy rippling to meet him, but he was able to make it through it and ready his scimitar, coaxing a groan out of her and this shiny light to her hands he knew to be all but light and peaceful.

"Give it a rest already!" she criss-crossed her fingers before him and created a barrier to not only force him some meters back, but send her flying back to a wall at such speed that Bakugou almost grimaced at the sound of it, such raw intensity separating them he wanted to have her back again.

However, when he forced his eyes upon her, she still stood there, unbeatable. A hand on the wall, a hand to her cheek to force her head to level his glare, twice as angry and determined to go on fighting, but he could see the little cracks in her armor just as she could see his. The situation didn't matter anymore: they had brought pain to the other, and the only way to settle this was deciding a winner.

And Uraraka wasn't going down that easily. So, sighing shakily, Uraraka dropped the meek act and stood up straight. If he wanted a full-on fight, he'd sure as hell get it. Uraraka faced him, turning her palms down before her.

"You want my wrath?" and with that, fire enveloped her hands until they were set on pure, wild fire, warmth drawing out of her as she consumed her own heat from their moving battle. "Then that's what you're gonna get!"

Uraraka pushed her hands to the ground, and a huge explosion rippled under him, scimitar almost flying out of reach if it hadn't been because he was ready, so thrilled for all of her, all she had to offer, and while in mid-air, created a huge explosion of his own to go slam his power onto him. His scimitar though, it sliced through dust, as she had already moved off the wall and jumped to the center of the backyard again.

He looked behind him to see her panting, breathing heavily, and she was so fucking infuriating to deal with exactly because of this. Her hands were weak, her body was small, but now she was a flame and there was no way to put it off.

He didn't want to care about a terrorist.

Look at her.

He wanted to go back to when he'd enjoy seeing her so beaten up, bloody and scathed, not so fucking messed up because a part of him didn't like the situation. In fact, hs stomach lurched, his whole being was repulsed at the idea, but he just couldn't– he needed his old self back!

What the hell had she done to him!? "Make it fucking STOP!"

Bakugou went for the shortcut and sent another explosion her way, and she surely hadn't expected this as she made no fucking attempt to dodge it and embraced the flames, being knocked out of orbit while exhaustion started to get the best of her. And even as her eyes blurred, as they started to grow heavy, she refused again.

Tired, livid at her and so fucking pride hurt, he sent another explosion to come eat her alive. Her body rolled some meters away again, but she was able to pull herself up once again with shaking knees, not fast enough to dodge his impatient attacks or ignore his furious wails for her to give up, to stop fighting him, to fucking surrender.

She refused.

"What the hell is wrong with you!" spat he when she actually got up, swaying a little but still on the game. The fire around her hands never died. In fact, she was daring enough to play hooky and send a barricade of furious flames to lick at him, and that was when he realized that this wasn't her being reckless, or trying to prove a point– but she was in the same ground as him, not knowing when to stop fighting him, when to just give up.

She wanted to see his true face, to see the mask come undone. She needed to see the true man. But instead of giving him a true response, she kept on wordlessly giving him the fight he wanted, bruising, blistering and licking his skin with a furious, incandescent gaze, crowned by a ireful frown.

And it felt like a fucking joke. "I'm gonna rip you to pathetic pieces, Uraraka! You won't tell me–" Bakugou shook his head in resignation while she waited for him to attack. He knew what she wanted, she was so fucking crystal he should have known she wasn't good news! "YOU WON'T FUCKING TELL ME WHAT TO DO!"

Bakugou sent a rumbling quake under him with his scimitar and took the opportunity of her stumbling form to successfully pin her to the ground with a shameless kick, her hammered body rolling and leaving a dreary stain of blood at its wake he followed to reach her. Her body panted on the ground, the fires still crumpling in his ears, and he rolled her to face the sky with his boot. Her eyes were still as lively, her hands were still burning,and blood flowed steadily to the ground, pooling and staining his boots.

It was ridiculous, this was fucking ridiculous.

Bakugou took hold of his scimitar, the ghostly feeling of satisfaction coming back for a split second before the then, suddenly, grabbed the feeling with his whole might and stabbed her side, twisting the blade in her – only to feel such enjoyment seep out of him, only to be met with moonlight washing over his bloody scimitar and a panting, critical body heaving up and down at his feet.

This was the first time he felt so fucking disgusted of letting his feelings go that far: the resentment towards such a big enemy he just needed to defeat, memories he had never wanted to encounter, only to funnel them into the small body of this woman, who lay before him with this impassive glare that was so untypical of her, as if she was mocking him, as if she wasn't hurt enough to admit defeat.

Because she never fucking admitted defeat. She never owned up to being hurt, only acted to worsen it and somehow, he was the one ending up hurt now, seeing her stare at him blankly as scarlet, thich blood surrounded her head and upper body, limbs frail and he felt like a void was going to swallow him whole, the terrorist he had once grown to hate transforming into this blurring picture that had his stomach clenching, his fist gritted,

and he just didn't know how to fucking feel about this. It didn't feel right anymore.

"I don't know who the fuck invited you to my damn guild, what kind of godly force pushed you to my damn doors, but if you can, I want you to fucking undo it!" screamed he, only to be met with her ragged breathing and the sound of crickets in the distance, and dust washing over the area. "I never asked for this– for this fucking feeling! For whatever you fucking did to me, because I fucking hate you but– FUCK!"

The leader drove the scimitar into a crack next to her head, the blood of the sword melting into the pool around her. She blinked once, twice, and he wondered if this was her way of saying she could hear him, because he wanted her to see what mess she had made of him.

Bakugou kneeled down, kneecaps soaked in velvet red so he could fist the fabric of her damp uniform and make her look at him. "I didn't need another fucking sorcerer to drive me crazy, I had enough with my damn mother and RampAge making my life hell!" yelled he without even realizing how much truth and faith he was putting on her, confiding such a great, weak spot she could tamper with. But he couldn't take it anymore. "I don't need you to come swarming with your deal, with your sparkles, with your smiles–"

Her eyelids closed a tiny bit, and he shook her awake with a ragged loud growl. Her hair sprayed some blood to his already dirty clothes, and this bug inside of him was making that disgusting nausea grow into hatred for her wounds, for the ones he himself inflicted in her so unfairly– and Bakugou was a fair man, but there was something else to it that was making the line confusing, and he just didn't know if he should be stabbing her life out or tending her.

Yet, his grip faltered without his consent, and her body ended up slumping on the ground again while angry, frustrated tears prickled at his burning eyes, staring at her once smiling, innocent body full of smiles and soft hugs, now cold and bloody under an attack he had mercilessly put on her.

It was wrong– not his feelings, not anymore, but the picture of her being bathed in pain was the fucking worst thing he had seen so far. And he wanted to shake it off and hate that bug for making him sink to such depths, but in the darkness, he somehow didn't mind anymore. He was just too tired of denying her, of not seeing the truth. He couldn't look away anymore, not when she was like this, all around them silent as his self-hatred for hurting her so spirraled out of control.

He couldn't face it. Not now, when she would forgive it like she always did, and shrug it off as him being him. Bakugou couldn't take pride for doing this. He just couldn't blame her anymore. The blonde wanted to scream at her to give his life back, to stop fluttering around him, to just stop existing, but he knew she wouldn't give up.

Her eyes looked at him, drinking from his breakdown. She wouldn't let him go.

Bakugou held in an ugly sob and cowardly stumbled to his feet, her body unblinking and dead tired. Blood washed the slates clean under them, but nothing looked cleansed anymore, just plain wrong. "I fucking despise you… so much." grunted Bakugou, looking down at her as if she was the plague, but he knew she knew better than to be guided by his eyes in such superficial level. "You should be dead. I fucking… you aren't dead."

And you never will, hung the unsaid words.

Bakugou looked at her one last time, as if waiting for an answer, but was only met with her eyes following his every step to the door, silently waiting for his exit as he staggered to the door and slumped in.

The body of the woman who gave up in favor of him lay bruised, bloodied to the bone and crimson despair covering her clothes. But Uraraka would never blame him, because her heart had been twisted too much, and in the end of the day, in the darkest of days, she'd still forgive him.

Nameless had a weird feeling whenever the sun was out of too long above her. Her skin wasn't used to the warmth that made sunflowers grow behind her house, or the overly stuffed breezes with hot puffs of air. The girl knew better than to bask in such warm weather when she had lived inside a cold house all her life, her parents no more tormenting her mind and suddenly gone out of reach, as if they had never existed to start with. Maybe, they had never existed?

Nameless sat on her knees, palming the windowpane with this distraught expression on her face that Mina couldn't recognize on her sister's grim lips. She reached out for her with shaking digits, as if her sister was a dim reality and her body, shaking sand. "Sis, what's wrong?"

There was a light hiccup to her words, and when the brunette turned back, there were unrealized tears in her eyes. Her lips were quivering, and her finger shakingly pointed to the stars outside. "They will be gone."

Mina tilted her head, blinking at the confusingly distraught girl. "Uh, what?"

"The stars." mumbled she, looking outside again. "They are gonna disappear, soon."

The pinkhaired girl crawled a bit near to her, but didn't make much out of the way Nameless recoiled from her touch. Such a strange thing of her to say, to do, to look like, as if lies and deceit were hanging from the stars and she was watching each of them explode galaxies away, that wise, enigmatic doe pooling in the brown irises of the powerful girl. "What are you talking about? Did the fever from last week not knock off yet?"

The girl did all but answer vocally, bringing her knees to her chin and looking up from the big, transparent, clean gallery windows. The world was a glass break away from reach, and she knew she could reach it. Why did she feel so encased by a gruesome future, then? "No, it's not that." she refused to look at her sister, whose black eyes were glued to hers in sheer worry. It made the situation all the more tragic. "Have you been talking to mom and dad, lately?"

Mina hurried to sit pressed flush to her side, bringing an arm around the other's waist with the intention of making it feel better, whatever it was. "Not more than usual. Why?" this made the girl's curled up posture tighten. "What's wrong?"

Yet, the girl felt like this wasn't the right person to talk with. There was someone off-limits that needed to be warned about the death flag looming over him to come stab him dead. "Nothing." but Nameless looked up again, and curled her tongue against her cheek, sad. "They will be gone soon anyway."

The world was a merry-go-around. When Uraraka had found herself a home, destiny had met the immovable object she was and stripped her off a home, making her leave everything behind to, who knows? maybe forever. Her mind was a drizzle of conflicted thoughts that had had her struggling to heal her wounds during the night and pretending to sleep like everything was alright– yet nothing was alright, and she found herself staggering in doing so the following morning.

"You alright, Uraraka?" asked Kirishima to her once she had entered the Council's building. Her eyes had bags hanging loose from them, chestnut orbs lacking shimmer and her tresses a bit tousled to her very own liking. The redhead found himself tucking a loose strand on its own corresponding place, to which she answered with a yawn. "Seriously, didn't you get any sleep last night?"

Even when he was like, ten steps away in the middle of the rustle of the busy hallway, Bakugou heard his pal perfectly, to the point that his words had felt like an accusation the blonde turned to, head craned an inch to their direction in a low scowl. His friend had the right to be worried: there were ugly burns on her hands that still had been healed properly, as well as her reddened neck and some nasty cuts on her arms. Nothing severe. She'd survive.

But the fact that he had ended up letting his anger and turmoil get the best of him, all those feelings encased for her, let it all explode and blow her into smithereens had been hassling his whole existence all night. Unlike her, his bruises weren't cured– and it's not like she had done little scratches on him, something that he was actually pretty proud of. Yet, the image of her bloody, beaten body had been chasing his rest around until he had given up the fight and ended up resting his body under the cradle of an insomniac moon.

There was this feeling, buried deep within him starting to scratch the surface and make his heart shatter, and he fucking knew what it was because he was no fool, and this unquenchable feeling of guilt over having hurt her so unnecessarily had brought up an important question: one he had had in the dark for some time, and one he wasn't ready to answer just yet.

Yet, there is this other issue he had come to clash with, one he hadn't made her be aware of because there was this feeling of having the upper hand, and the day he slammed it on her he was damn sure he'd shut her up for good. He clenched his hand when he heard her sputter stupid excuses, and strengthened his resolve about the truth hidden beneath that angel's face.

Both sadly and rightfully so he was going to have to make pieces fall into piece. And he knew she wouldn't like it– he was torn between feeling happy about it or actually disappointed that things had gone downhill so fast when she made for such a fine opponent. A shame.

Bakugou sharply turned from the pair and grunted to himself. Midoriya caught up on his distraught demeanor and directed him a questioning glance that the blonde answered with a glare of his own. "Come on, let's get this bullshit over with."

A wave of silence fell around the guild members in the span of Bakugou rising his fist to the grand doors and actually knocking on it. At the back of the group, Uraraka held in her breath and expected something big to happen the moment light creaked from the doors' opening, and a dash of sunlight washed over the big corridors, interrupted by the bulky bodies of her peers.

A figure looked out from the window, arms crossed as he contemplated the golden streaks of light warm up the town beneath him, floors below. After the busy stepping of his visitors became blatantly noisy, he turned around. "Ah, I see you ended up coming, after all."

Uraraka bravely stepped in between some people to stand at the frontline, shocked by two immediate things, one of which she was sure Midoriya had noticed for the pale shadow that washed over him. First, the fact that this man had such iron helmet that it covered his whole damn head brought to her a feeling of awkwardness, because there was no way to see his face or his eyes for that matter, and it somehow upset her.

Secondly, she had picked up on the hoarseness of the man's voice, which sure had held a honey gleam to it yet had turned black and jaded with time and something else she couldn't see, but it definitely was weighing him down. At her frown, Uraraka felt a hard set on eyes land on hers, and she could already know who it was after their time together. She had always been good at this stuff, no wonder there were eyes on her.

"It's a pleasure to meet you finally, Gunhead." spoke Midoriya clearly. "It took us a long time to schedule a proper meeting with you, is the Capital so busy lately?"

The man sighed, as if he had known what they had come for even before they knocked on his door. He adjusted the black kimono around his big body, and took a seat behind his big boureau. He urged Midoriya and Bakugou to do the same, letting Todoroki and Uraraka settle behind each respective leader. Kirishima was right by her side. "Well, it's impossible to deny we are going through some… difficulties, I'd say. Nothing worth fretting about."

"It is worth worrying about when we have an important matter to discuss and no one can give us a rightaway answer, above all when we are in an actual hurry." answered Todoroki with this ice bitten tone that made more than one turn around. "How many difficulties can clog a system all at once to make it so inefficient?"

Uraraka blinked at him once, maybe twice, and looked at the man in front of them, who didn't look pleased at all with the situation at hand. He was tense, back straight and hands folded on the table unnaturally. "It's more a matter of me being busy with several meetings and paperwork. With RampAge starting to roar in the distance, I've had to authorize many outings of doubtful quality." he panned his view on every member of the group, letting his eyes linger a bit more on Bakugou, and some on Uraraka. He turned to Midoriya. "I take it that's what you are here for, right?"

Yeah, Bakugou's glare on the general didn't leave much margin for imagination. The knight looked at him with a light frown, uncharacteristic from him yet much needed for the time being. "We need a pass from this region to the next one in order to reach RampAge, and provisions for this journey."

Gunhead leaned his head onto the palm of his hand, looking at the group with a trail of silence threading around the members of the team. There was this hint of unamusement in the way he breathed, although it didn't seem ill-intentioned. "I see. I don't know why you haven't gone out of your way and left on your own. I think some guilds are doing that."

"We know better than that." replied Kirishima with a severe expression, taking a step forward to step right beside Bakugou. The blonde looked at him wordlessly, a bored expression painting his eyes. "We want our objectives to be official, and be supported by the Council."

This was when Uraraka seemed to notice not only Kirishima's unbreakable support for his leaders, but also how in sync he was with Bakugou's intentions no matter how reckless they were at a logic root– in fact, everyone was, excepting her. She never saw anyone having serious banters with Bakugou on a daily basis, or have them cause the deep gashes they were marking on the other's skin. In fact, some of his wounds still hurt from the other night, and they were still oozing pain no matter how much she shifted.

Yes, her views on things were completely disconnected from the guild's, and there was no way to deny it no matter how much she tried to fight it. And her relationship with Bakugou was completely different to the others'. Her mind went back to the black book, then the cawl, and her mind staggered a bit forward,

"I have been informed of your actions and your rank as a guild on a national basis, and I must say I am impressed." he then took out some spare papers from under his desk, and proceeded to read them carefully. "You were also involved in the raid against Pyrox, am I right?"

Something in the tone of that guy made Bakugou tense up and spring a bit forward, but Uraraka was quick enough to calm him down with a hand to his stiff shoulder, calming him down without even looking at him. He sneered at her with malice, but still tried to cool down at the accusatory tingle of Gunhead's voice, at the same time musing over how cold her hand was. He knew that after using self-fueled fire, her temperature would drop down some bits, but had she overworked herself so bad?

"The raid was done for this mission's benefit." parroted Uraraka without a hint of determination in her voice, because she had almost been forced to believe this – among many other things, and he noticed this. "We pursued after Pyrox for this same objective. We already faced a severe ban, there is no need to punish our activities any longer."

This would be the last time Uraraka forced words out of her mouth. Last time she talked against something she believed in just for the sake of placement, sake of belonging, sake of following the beaten track. Bakugou noticed the slight deadpan in her voice, and it gave him this sinking feeling he absolutely didn't enjoy.

"We are aware of that." said the general twice as serious, not peeling his eyes off her. "You must be the sorcerer included in the document, I assume."

Of course Bakugou would have made her the one to defeat Pyrox despite it not being an absolute truth, and she didn't know it she should be elated or mad at this. Regardless, she knew Bakugou was, most of the time, a fair leader, but the the fact that she now had a high ranked man with his eyes on her had her inwardly angry at the leader. "Uraraka is my name."

"Yes, Uraraka." surprisingly, there was no hidden layer to his voice, but actually sheer admiration at the information in front of him. "I have read some things about you here and there from other guilds' feed. A scarce kind."

The brunette swallowed, watching how Gunhead seemingly evaluated her, how he loomed over her like this very same scythe everyone had against her, but it somehow felt like a softer menace and a warning more than an actual threat. She gulped again, fisted the fabric of her pockets.

"All of you had achieved great feats, but I don't feel sure about sending all of you into such battle." confessed Gunhead. "It's a dangerous monster, of that I'm sure you all are aware of."

The whole guild turned to Bakugou on that instant, aware of his uninterrupted effort on the cause. The leader, who had been silent this far, grumpily hissed at them, but talked anyway.

"We've been researching around older archives and investigations." stated Bakugou, shifting on the chair while Gunhead poured all his attention on the young leader. "We have just enough information to have a defensive strategy, but if we truly want to have the upper hand, we would need more extensive information from your knowledge."

Wait, did that mean they didn't know anything? Shock pushed awkwardly into her, eyes blown wide as she looked from the impassive leader to the more impassive general, who shook his head at the stupidity of the plan. "You had planned on going against such monstrosity without as much of an attacking plan? Do you even know how tall this guy is?

Bakugou leant back against the chair, chewing over the defeat. "No."

Uraraka shuddered. "Do you even know what element it's made of?"

She didn't wanna know that the answer was a "...No." but when she heard it she felt so fucking ashamed of herself, because she knew all this info and much, much more, but she hadn't shared it in hopes of deeming her guild to be more cautious than that.

Her mind went back to the pages and the drawings and numbers engraved to it, feeling a wave of nausea hit her at the thought of her mates finding out about her hidden business– business that could have helped them, but seeing the source of her information, would they have made any use of it? Would they have let her stay knowing she had such powerful document in her hands?

Uraraka had done well on keeping herself quiet, but she was terrified to the core.

"Then how can you be so foolish to try to go against such an formidable foe without an attack plan? Were you such a brazen leader to let your people head into danger so easily?"

Uraraka saw him bite his tongue at that remark and square his jaw, but she couldn't deny Gunhead was right. A shudder ran down her spine at the thought of them not meeting with the general and leaving like Bakugou had planned, and who knows what would have happened if he hadn't been called out in that matter. Uraraka felt rather stupid for believing Bakugou was a perfect leader, and only felt more sure that there was something darkly personal driving him to the edge.

The blonde crossed his arms tighter. "I know my people and know how capable they are, unlike you. But if we are here is to actually draw a backup plan, and I am sure you know we will head to that bastard's lair without your help or not." he leaned back onto his chair, crossing glances with his mate, who has a pretty judging glare on that Uraraka wouldn't like to be the victim of. "Your choice."

Gunhead leaned back onto his seat too, gauging the superiority complex of this man who seemed to want the world, imagined it being so tight in his grasp that he could feel it crumble to smithereens under his heated glare, but Bakugou still remained jailed in his high tower of might where he had no other view but his own ambitions, and couldn't see his tower had no legs to stand on.

Still, he knew the ambition in his eyes, on Uraraka's, on the redheaded man, on Midoriya, and on the rest of people in front of him. There was no speck of his being that doubted those warriors.

"RampAge is an incredibly big enemy, it's the reason why it's hidden on the crevasse of the mountain, because if it were to be outside there would be no way to limit its power." explained Gunhead with a heavy tone, one Bakugou had carried when he had first explained the situation to her. "The mountain has a seal that can be manually opened to let warriors into the mountain and fight the monster, but it's a temporal fix. The area enters a countdown and once it reaches zero, the area is locked again."

Uraraka didn't know this, but she wasn't exponentially alarmed by it. Judging by everyone's faces, no one was. Not even Bakugou, who crossed his legs and stared in pure boredom at the general. Truly, this was nothing new.

"It's an ice monster. The areas around there are completely either frozen or chilly, so you better cover that naked chest of yours for the voyage." it kinda broke the tension in the air and made Kirishima glance down and laugh shortly, only to be met with Bakugou's infamous glare. "Due to its size, it's been reported that it's impossible to lower its defenses or its speed with traps and the like, so it's preferable to use single attacks to wear him down slowly."

But Uraraka knew this already, and she was forcing herself to believe it was alright to do so. After all, she was just one step ahead, right? There was nothing wrong in being so. There was nothing wrong in being so.

Bakugou tilted his head a little, making his golden hair sway a little. It sparkled in Uraraka's eyes somehow, to see his hardened shape be framed so beautifully, like that. It was… mesmerizing. "So, fire attacks it is, huh?"

"Or powerful ones in general." Gunhead looked at his reports briefly, and took a second to breathe before continuing. "I am aware that you have powerful peers at your reach, but don't abuse of them foolishly. RampAge moves so little there isn't a potential energy drain, more of a stamina one magic-wise. Our sorcerer friend here better be ready for a rough dance."

Uraraka didn't really know what to say about it, but Bakugou fortunately did. He looked at her, many embers of anger concealed inside of his glittered orbs, as hers glared back with other many issues pointing at him, the previous night far from forgotten. He could bet she was aching, she could bet he was aching, too, but in a different way than hers.

Both turned sharply to Gunhead, and the leader was the one to reply with a frail, convinced, yet kind of lowered voice. "May look tiny, but nothing frail about her."

That sentence would have warmed her heart days ago, but he was used to turning the tables so quickly that she was left confused, wondering how he could change meanings so fast without her even noticing. It hurt to not know where to hold onto when she needed it the most, what to believe to keep her in place, but her fate was slowly fading, words and promises shattering, and she had sworn to play good, but it tore her apart to admit she didn't see the joy in doing so anymore.

Maybe it was just a feeling. She truly hoped so.

"I have heard of her feats, she sure is a tough one." commented Gunhead, praise dripping shamelessly from his voice, yet there was no way to stop and stare at that. "You should have gotten extra help from another guild, anyway. Uraraka sure is strong, she can be strong, but how strong?"

The girl had the answer so ready no one saw it coming. "More than enough."

Bakugou had never seen a face so foreign in her, of a fierceness she only displayed in battle mixed with probably anger, determination, and the sweetness that coated all her skin and words had suddenly evaporated from her and left this pitch black shadow of a misjudged warrior– one who had been set up by he himself as well, and he sometimes mentally punished himself for such stupidity.

Yeah, she was a terrorist, but he should have given her time to explain herself too. But he digressed. "We tried contacting other guilds for support, but no one was open for a try or even wanted to hear about it."

"I wouldn't have thought people would be so passive about such important problem."

"They aren't." interjected Midoriya before Todoroki could defend them. "But fear can sometimes cloud visions on things like these, no matter their importance."

The general hummed in approval, nodding at the young man. "Roger that. But words won't help you out in this battle, and while I'd love to send troops there to aid you in battle, most of them are either casualties or too scarred to fight again."

That was a cold statement to make so lightly, and Uraraka visibly shuddered along with some other people. What kind of bestiality could RampAge be to traumatize its enemies like that? Uraraka suddenly felt small compared to the issue to tackle, and despite trying to pin it down, it somehow wouldn't stop nibbling on her. Her eyes were wide, disorientated, and a little bit more afraid than two seconds ago.

The judging dances ebbed down until there was nothing there to withheld, and Gunhead allowed the young man to relax a little withdrawing his eyes from the blonde's, and looked at a pair of crossed swords on hanging from the walls. Highlights from the sun filtered across the room and scattered on the various prizes around the room. "I can grant you the access and allow you to exit the Capital… but there is a prize to pay."

A little chuckle reverberated across the golden room, all eyes flying to Bakugou's shaking figure once again. "Your little brats told us about something fishy going on around here. If it weren't for them, we wouldn't even be here."

The general shook his head. "Those little girls… too troublesome to my liking." Uraraka could see a clumsy smile through his words, but he quickly snapped into focus again. "There has been a serious spike in criminal activity in the capital these months, and it's rumored around town that there is a looming mafia lurking around the corners of the Capital."

Midoriya jumped in his seat, whereas Bakugou stayed quiet. "A mafia!? How would such a dangerous organization make it here?"

Yaoyorozu coughed, as if to let herself speak. Gunhead condoned this with a slight nod. "It's always been known that the north was a wealthy area full of mines and business, both in fishing and administrative handling of lands on the faraway villages." explained Yaoyorozu. Since it was a known fact that she was the most acknowledged with these political issues and was Midoriya's right hand in those, Uraraka wasn't surprised to see the leader absorbing information like a sponge. Truly, when Asui mentioned that a leader wasn't always the strongest member of the guild, she wasn't kidding. "Jack has a bigger domain on the outskirts' economy and I wish she was here to explain it more clearly, but RampAge's attacks have been affecting the area more seriously, therefore making it more prone to sabotaging and govern hijacking."

Bakugou nodded at her, then turned to Gunhead. "Jack's been feeding me data about it, so I was more aware about it than greenielocks here." the aforementioned was about to defend himself, but Bakugou actually reasoned it out. "Though, in his defense, Grinning Blade has been more hassling lately."

It awed Uraraka to not see the blonde jump right after to somehow lessen the impact of his words, but she welcomed the gesture. Gunhead spoke right after. "I guess my daughters must have reached out for your help then. You don't seem surprised by my request."

To somehow participate in the trail of the conversation, Uraraka stumbled to explain. The moment the breathed in to speak, all eyes were on her. And it terrified her. "When we first came to the town and to these headquarters, we had the notion that there was some disturbance and tension in the air," she locked glances with Yaoyorozu for a moment, then spoke to tweak and shift her words according to the context. "probably because of the tension due to this crisis, but we couldn't really tell."

There was no way she'd said she suspected of the administration to be implicated because this was no time for it. She knew timing better than anybody.

The following words were probably the first hint to cooperation Uraraka would ever see in Bakugou again. "What she said. We couldn't really get much done due to that regard, so it must be a pretty big issue if you are so damn slow in here."

"As I said when this meeting started, we have big issues to attend to." explained Gunhead in the same nervous tone he had greeted them with. Uraraka picked it up again. "We are working to unclog it and get the administration going again, but people are complaining about these mafia rumors so often we can't sort all charges at the same 's what we need help with."

Kirishima arched an eyebrow, but it was Todoroki who spoke. "With administration?" but he carried the same disbelief everyone was feeling.

"No." Gunhead crossed his hands on the table, again, unnaturally. "I need a powerful army to catch this gang before it spirals further out of control. If my daughters called you, it was because they deemed this guild to be powerful enough. They are especially picky." he leaned on his chair as he tapped his fingertips in deep thought. "Besides, you could use as practice for the showdown against RampAge."

Uraraka saw Bakugou look at Midoriya grudgingly, and the green-haired knight retorted back. "We can't delay our battle against RampAge any further, sir." Midoriya took a deep breath. Images of the various disturbances in the village rapidly breezed past his mind, which he suppressed down to give a hop to his voice. "The disruptions in our village are going too far, and we fear not having a village to come back to at all if we cast the matter aside for longer. We must act as fast as possible, or else we will lose our home!"

The words were left hanging in the air for a scarce span of seconds, quick looks exchanged between members as the reality of the situation dampened them to the core. It was true that maybe, as their backs were now turned to their very village, that very same home had been cluttered with such disturbances that it had been wiped out of existence, and the physical appearance of it – more like the possible scenario – gave them the worst kind of chills imaginable. They didn't dare dwell in the emotional implications of it.

And Bakugou hated being so nitpicky but he had Amelie there and a blacksmith to worry about. "We can't be pushing our duties any fucking longer, or we will be swept under the rug along with all other villages affected by this. Is this what you all want?"

She didn't know that other places had been destroyed by this catastrophe, but she doubted this was what Bakugou truly worried about. She dragged her eyes down his muscular arms and saw the little twitch of his fingers on the armrest. He was growing impatient for a green light, something that allowed them to move forward and not stagger side-ways like they seemed to be doing lately.

Uraraka looked a side, letting all weight of the situation swallow her and consume her body that was her until all that was left was a peeved glare in the general's direction that surprised him, yet he didn't forbid her from speaking. "Sorting this part of our mission out will unclog the administration here a little. Perhaps that can persuade you, maybe not, but all we know is that we have little time."

And something in her voice convinced him like the others hadn't, as while their voices had been stone, flat, she had been round and soft in her edges but still as concise about her wants It could be because of her round features, or the way her clothes swayed in the sun like a fairy's wings in flight, but Gunhead didn't care about that. All he saw inside of her, inside of these people, was a warrior army like he had never seen before.

The general slowly started condoning their outing with a gradual nod.

"I see how it is." spoke the man softly, playing with the guild's strings like a musician played the harp, and sighed against his entwined fingers. "You shall part to RampAge's lair tomorrow, during noon. I will have my best craftsmen create suited armors for your battle and some supplies be given to you, or at least… try to." there was this little chuckle that nobody liked, mostly because this man was supposed to have an upper hand on this government but.. he seemed hand-tied. "I very much hope you get the rest you deserve, little ones. You have the greatest quest of all times in front of you."

And everyone finally let out a sigh of relief after this because they were finally allowed to be free and, honestly, with the help of the Capital, they were more than confident in their abilities, for everyone smiled given this new surge of the events. Uraraka, however, had her brows knit in worry for the mission, aware of the fact that Bakugou had built his comrades' expectations on false encouragement and rash plans, and a bitter taste on her mouth told her this mission could go south in a moment under RampAge's hands.

Then why was everyone so happy? Why were they all pretending this was fine? Uraraka couldn't understand it. No matter how much she tried to be in sync, she couldn't wrap her mind around this fake confidence. She just couldn't.

Kirishima questioned her gloomy, droopy eyes with wide eyes, but the girl shrugged it off with a small smile of more fake confidence, only building up this madhouse of cards and blowing deeper into this toxic balloon, hoping it wouldn't reach her when it exploded. Her eyes drifted inevitably to Bakugou again, who still observed Gunhead with a severe gaze, yet there was more ease in his muscles.

He was believing this fantasy too. She couldn't believe it, she sighed. "Then we're all set, right, guys?" everyone nodded in unison, but not with the same energy as Midoriya, who seemed enthusiastic and mostly naïve. There was a glint of sheer gee inside Bakugou's eyes Uraraka felt guilty about, as she knew this was by no means a good idea. There was no way this serious, responsible yet… now she saw, his true nature, how he was pushing his ambitions so far he couldn't see he was going to crash with the horizon.

Uraraka didn't want to do this– yet, what wouldn't she do for him despite his greediness, such big ugly monster that had almost killed her the previous night? It was heart twisting. It was painful. It terrified her. This was wrong.

Her nails pressed against the back of the chair with a bitten lip. "Yeah… I guess." mumbled Uraraka to her neck, looking at the several cuts at her wrist that her own leader had carved into her skin. How long would it take until she broke? "We're ready to go."

They weren't. "For now, you all are dismissed." condemned Gunhead. His eyes were focused on Uraraka despite having his head turned to the leaders. His lips drew a smile from underneath the helmet. "Please, rest for the rest of the day. I'll have new weapons be brought to you by sunset."

Well, and to think she had almost wasted a ton of money on a scepter the day before. There was something good to the situation for now. In the middle of her train of thought, Uraraka absent-mindedly picked up the sound of the chairs scraping against the floor. Then, a hand on her shoulder, and a gentle yet determined set of eyes placed on the side of her neck. When the brunette craned her head, she found Yaoyorozu looking down at her.

She had to be usually reminded that she was awfully small. It was an ironic point. "I have some books to show you. I bet you'll like them for our battle tomorrow."

Uraraka should have known the knight would have a plan in mind the moment she was given the right parameters. Finding something good in this wrecked situation for once, the girl nodded with a soft smile. "I'd like that. Thank you very much."

"Hold it, hold it!" called Bakugou out with a fierce frown, not letting the ladies go past the doors as they turned to look at him with wide eyebrows. "Don't borrow her for too long. I have stuff to discuss with her."

"Stuff?" murmured Uraraka, tilting her head and feigning some degree of naïvety. At this point it kind of relieved her to see that he wanted to solve their differences and talk with her, and as his bashful expression told her, he would probably be saying sorry. However, his tone seemed graver than she would like it to be, for she looked at Yaoyorozu in doubt.

"Ah, I see." yeah, whatever this was, if it wasn't their own personal issues, Yaoyorozu knew about it. "It will take me as less as possible then." her slight scowl turned into a slight smile. She seemed hopeful. "Let's get going to the residence."

"I still don't understand, Yaoyorozu," the black haired woman turned to Uraraka with a stack of books on her arms, leaving them on her bed to pad to the worried sorcerer, who eyes the covers of the thick books. "these books, why now of all times? I can still recall you snatching these off my hands."

The girl chuckled at her and, instead of stealing the book from her hands, she shoved it deeper into her chest. "For starters, these aren't the same books. I should have discarded those when I had the opportunity, but they have almost grown roots there…" she eyed the ones on the wooden desk, then the sorcerer in front of her. "Regardless, I thought that under such twist of events, we could skip some basic tactics. Given that RampAge is more sensible to single attacks and nuking, we'll need you to give it your all. Todoroki, Bakugou, and Midoriya will aid you as well, and I'm afraid us others incapable of generating fire will try to come up with something tonight."

"I see." spoke the other softly, tracing the creases of the book like she had done the day before on another kind of volume, one that sat on her boureau. Curiously enough, Yaoyorozu didn't feel the presence of a new, unknown volume. Not that Uraraka was complaining. "I guess then that there must be something important here."

There was this velvet tone of appreciation in Uraraka's voice at the importance of the item she was being given, and the knight relished on finally meeting Uraraka's expectations training wise. With all the moving after the village's fiasco, they sure hadn't trained a single bit, and it showed on the brunette's broken ambitions. Though, there was this vibrant spark of defiance Yaoyorozu hadn't seen in her eyes weeks ago, and it was making her heart soar in unspoken ways.

"I only know the basics of the book, it has key aspects of the spells you'll need for our encounter against RampAge. Since you'll be one of the very few people to help, we must have you fully gauged."

After that, crickets chirped and birds flew in the distant night. After such afternoon beating over every aspect of Uraraka's magic training and making sure she was completely ready, there was not much more to say or do other than stay quiet and let the importance of this moment finally sweep into them like a wave, or a thunderstorm, or a breeze in a lake. None of it mattered though, because the silence was thick and tense, but Yaoyorozu knew what to do right away, as if she had gone over this moment endless times.

The knight slapped her hands on Uraraka's shoulders with a smile, and her eyes were undeniably tender like no one but probably Todoroki had ever seen them. "I have all faith in you, Uraraka. You have the expertise and confidence to pull it off." she then tenderly rubbed on them, making the girl shake visibly under such gaze. "It's not like we have any other option, right? I'm sure… Bakugou's plan will be successful."

The odd choice of words made Uraraka feel that she wasn't the only one to really doubt it, but the tinge of positivity that clung to her heart, desperate, was still there, and anybody accepting Bakugou's orders like clean paper was suddenly losing all credibility to her, such judgement leaving her in an empty husk of a land that used to be fertile and vast, yet had turned sour and dry.

A part of her wanted to scream, wanted to destroy all proof and trial in this mad process and let it burn to the ground, even if it costed her sanity or her thin skin for caring too much, for feeling things for a man that was ultimately going to destroy her– and worst of it all, she knew all along. She knew that letting this all invade the empty husk of her heart and protrude it in such intoxicating fantasy was wrong, that believing it would last forever was a mistake and that holding onto it was hurting her like a blistering flame.

But she still watched her body burn, wound, be torn apart and rot in his hands, as if she was nobody else but another face in a crowd when she had cared, when she was who felt the most, when she had fought for it all to end up well. But if she had been so nice, if she had been so kind and careful, why was she the one getting the bad ending?

Uraraka sighed in her grasp and nodded as strong as possible, her resolve only gaining power the more Yaoyorozu let her be, the more she let her be. Their bodies twirled away until Uraraka was stranded in this lonely island, where the only options were to be wiped out or lose the line the sand. Maybe Yaoyorozu was right and she was strong, but by doing what she thought was right, there was an act of weakness that wouldn't let her rest, not without his voice in her head or thoughts of his touch in her skin.

What was this she was feeling? Was it despair, was it fear, was it pure loss? She just couldn't tell, for the truth was too near and close and it was suffocating her to know this late into her life that in the end, all her existence had been in vain, that she had made it turn around one person, knowing that if he left, she would too, and just aware of the fact that despite the scars he craved into her, or the incredible pain that he charged into her heart, she would always forgive him.

And this was her ultimate vow of weakness under the pinky of a strong, indifferent man that felt nothing for her. It was her losing the fight, it was her finally admitting what he had screamed to her all along. It was… resting. Peacefully.

Clutching the wool of her neck to her chest, the cawl tattered into vision with a forceful slash of light into the room, with a blow of a curtain, and Uraraka slowly walked to it, feeling the low lights change directions and start ticking into place. Her fingers traced the heavy clothing, curled the straps, felt it weight down on her hand. It was a perfect masterpiece. She knew it would be a hassle during battles, but the firecrackers would lit up her hopes whenever she felt the warmth wrap around her ever so slowly.

The girl pulled the cloak off the hanger and put it around her, and the change in temperatures was almost instantaneous. She looked at her hands and could practically feel the magic seep out of her fingers. This was what she wanted, what she felt she deserved, the liberation, yet felt so fucking guilty she wanted to cry.

Regardless, Uraraka cordially walked to her boureau, picked her shit and started working her mind through all the problems in the book Yaoyorozu had given her. With blinks, water and several easy candlelights, the sorcerer was able to realize that these spells were… just high, incredibly powerful and if Yaoyorozu thought her body was strong enough to encase these powers, if she thought she'd be able to pull it off, Uraraka would just pat the dust off and dirt her nails. She was able to create small replicas of the spells with almost minimum effort, almost blowing up half a wall of the room when she wasn't able to hold all the power in.

After this feat, Uraraka looked at her trembling hands. Was this really the power she could deliver? Had Bakugou really been so stupid to hold it in when they could have done so much stuff with it? The leader sure was intelligent, but Uraraka was tired and by far much more able to see where this was going to end. She called her magic back again by fisting her fingers, and defiantly ran to the book again, determined to find the perfect cure for this dilemma.

As the sorcerer skimmed through the pages of the book, a small handwritten sentence caught her eye, standing alone in a dirty leaflet.

"Borrow the power," whispered Uraraka. "and return it into the light."

The girl confusedly turned the pages over a few times, and didn't discover anything similar to this, making it look like maybe, just maybe, Yaoyorozu was actually supporting her in this instead of being as reluctant as she once seemed– which, mind you, Uraraka felt relieved for. The sentence had meaning and reason: it somehow talked about cycles and exchanges of powers, how no magic body is stable with too much or little magic.

Her brow twitched, and grabbing the book, Uraraka blew the candles off and marched straight out of the door. She wasn't content with this setting, she couldn't stand in that room any longer– so she ran. Her feet stumbled and flew across the corridor, her mind acknowledged with how many turns it took to exit the residence, sharp images from the night before vividly crashing in her mind, but she did her best to swat them off. She had no time for this!

Panting, Uraraka slammed the door open and leaned on her wobbling knees for support. She rose her head to meet the empty backyard and cobblestone, slates still caked in dry blood and rain from the other night. Uraraka run an ugly hand along her hair and felt how the cold tried to bite into her skin, yet this time around, there was something different, and no loss was felt. Instead, warmth coated her frame and embraced her. It was nice – decided she, stepping deeper into the area and eyeing some corners for eavesdroppers – and she couldn't wait for it to consume her soul.

Uraraka entered a fighting stance, charging up energy and being left speechless as fire easily started to surround her hands, licking the cold air and consuming it like a match lit against the pavement, and with a shake of her arms, the fire started rising up her body and lighting her arms in warm flames, but none of it hurt her, or burnt her clothes. It felt good, to let the power start branching out and see the wonders it could do.

She swung an arm in the direction of a small bush and called in a gale with her other one, and watched how the fire typhoon swirled around the winds and plummeted into the bush, reducing it to ashes in a matter of seconds. Her breath hitched at the effortless show of power she had done in a matter of seconds, and knew why this had drained so little energy from her– which meant that her logic, her plan, was perfectly viable.

She didn't know what to feel, because this was no more than a shorter scale of what was about to come. The blazes started trailing down her arms and dimming until all what Uraraka had were her outstretched hands, facing the sky as she stared at her palms, wordlessly letting her fingers twitch at what she had been forbidden to do. Should she be happy because she has realized she's got what it takes, or should she be sad because it had to be demonstrated in the worst of ways?

There could have been other options. Perhaps, in another time, in another era, where it rained and people screamed, perhaps it would have been better. Maybe he could have made it feel better than this.

Her irises trembled as the wind picked up, swaying her hair and making her turn her head to another small bush standing in the way. Curious, Uraraka quickly came up with another spell, and capable of warping it to her desire, she stomped her foot on the cobblestone and watched a myriad of tough vines shot up from behind her and launch at the bush, destroying the earth beneath it and, as Uraraka called out a fire to ignite the vines, the small plant was ashen in two split seconds.

The girl grinned at her feat proudly, not feeling any counteract from this usage of power. Her attacks were usually slower and more careful, but this way… it was a new chaotic way to see things, and she didn't dislike it the slightest. In fact, she was enjoying it to some degree.

She tried to call out the fires and rejoiced when they lit up her body– "What a way to act hooky, Uraraka."

Her body would have gone rigid and her lungs, ragged when he heard his deep voice, steamy hot eyes burning on her neck as his ever so present emotions glared from behind. Uraraka put off the fires with a small shake, as if only shaking her hands awake, and craned her head to a side to acknowledge his presence. Funny, she had learned to spring back after a fight with him, and trust her, it wasn't funny to witness. "Bakugou."

Her voice, hoarse, usually milky like honey and sweet like sugar. Her body, hunched over when it usually stood straight or on the ground, at his feet. It wasn't a pleasant sight, but his more human side liked the rawness at reach. "Flashy much, huh."

At this, the girl turned to her leader ever so slowly, only to find out he was walking towards her with an awfully calm set of eyes blaring at her, but she could hear his heart beating against hers as one. She could see the handle of his axe poking from his back, and it brought back, yet again, another weird set of memories that had her standing defensively again, ready to fight. After all, that was all they did, right? Bleed until the other was satisfied. It was oh, so toxic, yet so enticing, and all she wanted was to try him out again.

Judging by the liquor in his eyes, there was no doubt he wanted this too. Uraraka spoke with a downtone to her words that had him feeling again. "You don't seem surprised."

"Do you really think Yaoyorozu didn't tell me about whatever she was going to do with you? Every step you take, I'm right before it." he weighed his axe in his hand, giving it a few spins.

To be fair, she had been so focused on her own struggle that it hadn't really crossed her mind. She gritted her teeth. "Eh. I had other business to think about."

Bakugou glanced around the ruined garden parts with a sneer. "I see." and without really much of a warning or a sign, Bakugou lunged forward with his axe in hand. "Not that it's gonna be much of a use!"

When she didn't move to dodge his attack, he grew curious– until she slapped her hand into the wind and created a barricade of flames going straight for Bakugou, who jumped up to avoid it and gave Uraraka an opening to dash under him, shooting off with the impulse of a flamethrower in her hands. The hunter landed with a screech of his feet against the cobblestone, all while Uraraka started charging her body up again. He watched in the distance how her arms were engulfed by fire and how her short hair moved along with it.

Somehow, this didn't amuse him much, for he just chuckled and swung his axe again, going against her again as she crossed her arms and unleashed a slash of fire that he easily dodged, yet his improvised jump was suddenly met with a slap of wind that knocked his body out of orbit, and sent him to his feet some meters away from her. He had moved double as her while she hadn't moved an inch, yet the wave of destruction was evident in the broken slates of stone and the path of dust branching off her shadow.

And yet, she remained unchanged. "Stylish." remarked Bakugou. With his axe on his shoulder, he issued a huge explosion that sent him off flying in the air towards her, but Uraraka quickly created a mix of water and fire to steam and fog into the air, distracting his trajectory and making him stand idle for two seconds that gave her the opportunity to kick his back and make him hit the brick wall.

The man landed with a thud that actually knocked his air off, probably because he was too damn tired to do this, nervous for tomorrow, and because he had this controlled beast starting to come undone and the dominant glint in her eye wasn't good news. Fog cleared from the scene and there stood she, cowl blowing in the wind and wiping sweat off her brow. Yeah, she was a damn sweetheart, but there was this devil inside of her he had always seen, but she had always known how to show the right angles to conceal all wrongs in her heart.

Uraraka was tired from fighting, why lie? Physically? Yeah, but mentally? Much more Because enjoying this free display of prowess in front of him, directing her attacks towards him was breaking her heart little by little, and oh woes betide if she ever got the nerve to evolve and pay him back for all he made her went through: for making her start feeling for him without a reason.

She panted. After all, the heart wants what it wants, right? There he was having it, her at her rawest, and his glare so intense she wanted to flee. But she didn't. She never did.

The blonde supported his weight on the wall and grunted. This fingers curled on the concrete walls as he growled out his next words, letting them fall out of his lips almost without consent, but was still well aware of their impact on her. "I ain't gonna train with you anymore, Uraraka."

And that was a real ground breaker. They had never had a real training to start with, but his words meant so much more than a mere sparring session: it meant developement, it meant trying to cast their problems aside because let's face it, they knew each other better when battling than cuddling, and there was no way he was going to have her grow either, apparently. Uraraka looked at her hands, once proud of what they held, but now feeling torn about it. "What!?" spluttered she disbelievingly. "Why the h–"

"I ain't gonna feed the beast any longer, Uraraka." his voice was thick with emotion, setting them all free as he spoke, his chest feeling lighter yet tighter the more he let his feelings reel it all in. "I'm tired of being always doubtful on what your intentions are. And seeing how rash you are behaving, against what we very well warned… you're a fucking cunt."

Two seconds of silence palpitated around them, threatening to choke them, but the girl still stood there. Speechless. Frozen. Feeling all their development crumble to pieces with the rash touch of his sole hand and the shake of his words, and all was left in front of her was the moon washing over the man she once knew, one she had wished to never see again– but his eyes were still as red, his skin was still as tough, and maybe, just maybe, he had always been the same.

Maybe, just maybe, she had just been a fool for thinking he was different, that he could be different. The girl clenched her jaw, fisting her hands again until a spurge of stone determination surged through her, letting her fingers uncurl and let blazes fall to the ground. She let out a grunt as he frowned and hunched to a defensive position again. "You…"

Uraraka threw her hand back, and caressed the ground with her fingers to send a ripple of fire to burn his flesh, yet her heart was so all over the place she couldn't exactly comprehend what was going on. "...you asshole!" screamed she, jumping up to aim another forceful punch in his direction, aiming with her other hand and landing in a cloud of dust he left at his wake.

"You are the fucking bitch here!" barked he in the distance, starting to throw spikes of power sways to her recovering shape. He very well took opportunity of her irritation to knock her off her feet, and Uraraka just felt once again like she had been tricked so, so badly. She didn't like feeling stupid.

The girl rolled on the ground once again, and clenched her fists with a grimace before getting back up with a jump, only to be met with another swing of his axe. "Stop fucking getting up!" he blasted in her direction again, to which she answered mimicking his dodge from earlier and readying a swing of her own. "FUCKING STOP!"

Bakugou unleashed the most powerful explosion he could muster and launched it in her direction, making her body scatter to the ground and burning the edges of the cawl, yet it survived the big boom. Uraraka supported herself with her elbow, but before she could even get up, there was a blade on her neck. "I said you fu–"

A hand enveloped in fire grabbed the blade and started melting off the edges, making Bakugou stagger some at the fire licking at her irises. "Let go, Bakugou."

He swatted her hand off and slammed it to the ground with a boot, feeling the thin skin tear some under the scraped soles of his footwear. "Make me."

Thunder rolled in the distance, illuminating the leader's frame for a clap of seconds as their breaths staggered in unison, ragged in emotion and pain as her hand lowered, yet his weapon never neared her throat. Instead, it ever so slowly drew away from her yugular until it clattered on the ground, falling right in front of her where the water was forming puddles under the moonlight, there the slates were destroyed and the ground was still warm from her fires.

Her breathing turned jaded as she stared up at him. A part of her wanted to grab the axe and show him what a bad time was, yet she knew she'd never bring herself to hurt him so much– on the contrary though, it seemed as if he had been so close to straight up ruining her that it scared her, made her body turn cold and her eyes widen at the realization that not only her kindness was shortly seen, but also ravaged.

She gritted her teeth. "What is this about not training with me anymore, Bakugou? Just– after all we've fucking been through, you are still hellbent on neglecting my progress as if I was some kind of nuisance? Is that it?"

"Why the fuck would I even be wasting my energy on this if I didn't have a reason to, a decent one!?" barked he back, making her flinch and grimace. She was sitting up now, an arm wrapped around her as she used the other one to support herself. Under the night's shade, her shape looked up to the leader, who towered over her and brought a nostalgic feeling, remembering their first meeting. A flash of recognition flashed across her eyes. "I won't be training somebody who has been playing behind us and going off on her own to seek, for example, books that weren't supposed to be in your hands!"

At this, Uraraka stared up at him, letting the wind blow her tresses as the truth shook her reality, a harsh lie meeting what her eyes had seen, what her head had never witnessed, but most importantly, what her hands had never felt. "Hold it! I have never–"

"Don't fucking try to deny it because Yaoyorozu fucking found it all in your damn bag!"

Uraraka clenched her jaw, fisting loose gravel on her hands, circling her digits on the pavement. "Why are we always circling around the same topic? Can't you just realize I am not going to hurt any of you? I would have already done something if I were so evil, Bakugou!" his eyes widened a fraction before turning back to their sour trademark frown. "Just get over it already, I won't hurt you or anyone from this guild!"

"I never said it was only because of that, you brainless cunt!" spat he, pointing at her as if she was scum, or the lowest of peers to him, and the raw emotion in his eyes terrified her. "Look at your damn body, look at those scars and look at your hands! I can see how much you've been doing and the mental effort you are putting on yourself. I already told you at the beginning: using all-on tactics is like nothing to me, Uraraka."

The girl shook her head in disbelief, and her eyes narrowed down to a disappointed gaze. "What do do you even mean with that?"

"You are fucking overdoing it again as I told you not to! Seeking books, studying on your own, and I can't stand it." because you are doing stuff to strong for you to handle, because I care for your well being– wanted he to scream, yet he was so drowned out in feelings, confusion and anger for her rash acts that there was no way he'd make such confession. He squared his jaw and looked at her with a hard glare, hoping to just make her stop with this. "I won't let you develop into this you are morphing into. I'm not gonna have it!"

Uraraka struggled to get up, but when she did, her knees were wobbling and her chest was heaving up and down in tiresome pants. "You are nobody to tell me who I am or who I can be only because you rule over me. My training is mostly based on book research, and since we haven't been training, how am I supposed to even build strength wit–"

"Enough!" screamed Bakugou, picking up his axe by swinging it with his foot and pointing it at her. Silence wafted on the area like a thick duvet, squeezing them tightly until there was no more room to breathe or to even talk, because they had said enough things and it didn't look like they would get better by talking them out: Uraraka desired freedom, Bakugou wanted victory by having her in rags. And they wouldn't ever get over that difference, above all not when he would take a step forward and then coward and take two back.

Uraraka's brows furrowed down, but not in anger, there was no way that feeling would fit in such fully emotional and small body like hers, but in something akin to betrayal, something he knew to be one of the worst feelings in humankind. "So, you refuse to train with me, huh?"

He wanted to feign ignorance, act as if that face didn't matter– yet it did, in so many ways that he was feeling his resolve crumble the more he looked at her, so he just looked away and glanced at the moon above them. "I won't train with someone who won't listen to me, or someone who will just go above their own limits to try to prove a point. I refuse."

Two beats of silence clapped between them, after which Uraraka let out a big breath in the form of a sigh. "You… you are abandoning, then."

"I never fuck–"

"But you are." counteracted Uraraka, continuing to speak before he could reprimand her for a interruption he actually hadn't planned on doing. "After all that we've been through you… you are just giving up because you fear me overpowering you?"

No, he wanted to say, because it was partially untrue, but also partially true. He didn't nod, didn't speak for a few minutes, before looking at the sorcerer dead in the eye. "I won't repeat myself again. You can interpret this however you wish, but I won't be letting you fucking grow up as much as I can handle, Uraraka."

"That's…" unfair, psychotic, despicable, cruel, villain-worthy– instead, she didn't speak, choosing to limp forward a little before catching herself on the process. The gale of news had knocked her off her feet, left her spiraling out of orbit, puzzle and disorientated for a minute before she realized what she had to do, what she should have done all along. The answer had always been in front of her.

That night, the winds changed. "I see. So that's how it is."

Bakugou was startled to see her so calm over this arrangement, but didn't pry any further and chose to let the subject go, packing his axe on his back and letting his heart do that double take when their eyes locked for the upteenth time, though this time, there had been no blood, no major screaming to wake people up, not the same evil level of violenc evetween them– yet the impact had been just as devastating for both.

Then, when he suddenly realized how things had gone awry, how far he had gone for the sake of… what? He couldn't remember. Her body limped to the door of the residence without another word said, leaving him with that feeling of dread on his heart that hung heavy on him, making his heart fall through his chest and shatter on the concrete underneath his feet.

Why, despite having won this battle, did he feel like he had lost something vitally important? And why did he feel as if a string of his heart had snapped when she walked out of his reach?

Uraraka knew she was walking through a fragile line when doing this, face hidden beneath the shade of her cloak as her steps clicked against the cobblestone sidewalk. There was no soul to interrupt her stride, no star to guide her home and no heart and pride to tell her if this she was doing was the right thing, if this was the path to take, but her legs guided her out regardless.

The sorcerer heard the whipping of wings close to her, and Edgar landed on her shoulder a moment afterwards, able to find his owner after she had rung the beast whistle at the top of their residential building. Edgar cocked his head to a side, questioning her actions, yet she walked forward without responding to her animal's questioning gaze.

Her brow was furrowed in concentration, hands curled into fists and back stiff as a rod, blending with the shadows of the street and hiding from the various torches that hung on some walls. Her cawl whipped with the midnight's breeze, yet she didn't feel cold despite the aftermath of her battle with Bakugou, and this tranquilized her to some extent, assuring her that probably, this had always been the right way to go.

She didn't know, though. She had had a mindset about things lately, her mind never torn from a certain branch and ever so consistent on what her path was, a straight road spanning into the sunrise and making her never lose sight of her goal. Now though, things were different, and much to her dismay and the suffering she had been through, she knew what path to take.

And it saddened her because she was convinced, deep inside, that this was the wrong thing to do. Yet, as she walked faster to her destination, she was sure of what she was about to do. Despite this hurting her, despite the man that laid in her heart, a man so abusive that made her expression turn grim under the moonlight, she knew what she had to do.

Her eyes picked up the sound of distant rainfall, yet she was sure it wasn't raining there, it was raining somewhere else.

When Uraraka finally made it to the building, her breathing didn't get as ragged as she had expected, not did her hands feel heavier– a warm feeling of stability flooded within her, charging her step with determination as she went up the steps and opened the door to the sacred cathedral. Her hands flew to her front, fisting the fabric of her cawl for some seconds before letting go and taking a deep breath.

The girl's step faintly wafted in the air of the lonely place, all benches and shrines devoid of people to occupy them. Uraraka could be a good machine and play the cards against the fate's favor, she could build mountains out of dust and make it rain in a desert. She was that powerful, she had that potential.

"So, you've finally arrived."

She had expected his voice to be that hoarse, after all she didn't remember it any other way. There was no smile in his tone, nor a notch of feeling as the sole sensation of obiquity and grandiloquence filled her lungs, making it hard for her to breathe the more she realized the was between a wall and a hard place, two swords drawn to her throat, dangling as she decided which one would the the one to finally end her life.

Uraraka sighed once, then twice, and looked up to the black-haired man in front of her. Moonlight dashed through the windows as she looked at him dead in the eyes. "I've made up my mind, sir."

It took him a little bit of time to decipher the meaning of her hardened eyes, the sour downturn of her lips and how the stars had finally died in the depths of her swirling eyes. Her expression was, for once, even and pacified. Hands clenched, mouth a curved line and skin stoney cold. But when he caught up with her muted intentions, he couldn't help but sigh in disappointment despite the favorable turn of events for her.

"I see." condemned he, bringing a hand to his neck. "What a pity."

Her body lurched forward a little, feeling free now that she had expressed her desires and frankly, his reaction wasn't one that she had expected out of everything, but she'd eventually discover the tragic meaning behind it all. "I still have one question, though."

She sure was a tiresome little thing, that sorcerer. The man stepped to a side and waited for her to voice her questions, not aware of the fact that she was waiting for a reaction. He disinterestedly walked past her, only stopping when he heard her take an incredibly big amount of air.

"Tell me, please, because I need to know," began the brunette, entwining her hands in the front of her cawl as she pursed her lips. "how did you know all that information about RampAge?"

The black-haired man felt his eyes widen ever so slightly, rumble echoing in his heart and breaking all the expectations he had for this small girl, only making them surpass the threshold of his hopes and draw a shaky smirk out of his face. Despite the brilliant question, he was actually puzzled to see her waiting for his response, as if she actually hadn't known the answer and hadn't asked in a rhetorical way.

His response came hushed, drowned out by the suspended tension that separated them.

"I thought it was obvious." spoke Aizawa without opening his mouth much, looking at her in mild amusement before walking off from her, leaving her alone in the dead end of a cathedral as she clutched her heart, letting the horror and mortification of it all drench her whole being as she came to a terrifying realization.

Her hands trembled to hug her arms, his last words hung loose in the empty air around them.

"If I know it all about RampAge," and a lone tear trailed down her eye, mouth agape as she came to see what was to come. "is because I created him."

Nameless had never ran so fast in her whole life. In the middle of the rain, body splattered in mud and eyes as frantic as they could ever be, searching for a splash of golden while running in the midst of a storm howling high above her head, bobbing up and down as her steps pounded against the ground.

Thunder rolled in the dark sky above her as she ran through the deserted village, hoping to find that place where shadows didn't creep in, where the darkness wouldn't come burning her edges and the light of his eyes would make it all feel better, like gasoline ignited fire— yet if there was something she enjoyed, it was his burning violence.

As if on cue, Nameless heard steps spluttering on the ground ahead of her. The girl almost tripped over and fell, but there was a calloused hand to catch her fall. Yet, when she looked up, there was no gold to blind her, but red to stare at her in urgency.

Katsuki's absent image flickered for a second before it faded into Kirishima, a boy so scared for what Mina had told him that he knew she'd go running away into the wrong man's arms. "Nameless, hey, hey! Snap out of it!"

The girl panted while gaining recollection as his voice cleared away the mist. She gripped his muscular forearms and looked up at him — he was so much taller than her. "Kirishima, Ki— oh, they, they…"

The redhead gave her small body a shake. "Yo, just tell me what's wrong! Mina came to my house and explained… just what is wrong?"

The girl let out a whimper of distress, letting all the worry and distress swim in her twinkling eyes as rain fell on them, which made her hair stick to her face and only enhance the ultimate sadness that cornered her heart. "They… They are gonna kill us all…!"

Her voice was quiet, yet the wet pitch of it and the small cry let him hear her speak within the lights and pitter-patter of the downpour. "What… what do you even—"

She jumped to grab his shoulders and look at him dead in the eye, blinking the tears away. "The humans!" exclaimed she, the words reverberating in his heart as he knew what she would say next. "They are coming for us, they will attack us soon!"

He grabbed her forearms back, boring his eyes on hers to make sense of it all. "Are you sure? Who told you that!?"

Nameless lowered her head and let go of her friend, yet her nerves didn't die the slightest. Rain fell on her red shoes, melting into the mud. "Dad and mom were speaking about it… they are getting dangerous plans… scheming!"

They locked eyes and they exactly knew one lf the biggest issues about this, making Kirishima frown and stare harder at her. Only he would dare to speak his mind. "Katsuki."

Nameless nodded hastily, bunching the front of her uniform as the reality of this convoluted situation only got harsher and realer, yet she would soon discover things would only go down from there. "Do you think he's got anything to do with this?"

"With the humans attacking?" the girl nodded again, and Kirishima decided to take it a step back. He knew Katsuki like the back of his hand after some months of friendship, that guy was clear as water in his brazen behavior but tough to translate into feelings, yet for all everyone knew Katsuki had no ill intentions towards humans… but that was all he seemed to show, not what he could be actually thinking. "I doubt he approves of this, he would have killed me while we were alone if so. When did you hear this?"

"I…" Nameless entwined her hands, similar to a pray, letting the wind toy with the hems of her shirt and hair. "Mom said to dad today that they were looking for something we stole from them… but I don't understand… we were here before them, why do they want to steal our lands?"

Kirishima stepped forward to hug her, but Nameless refused to be hugged– which alarmed her, for she was always the one giving hugs and receiving them. She never rejected hugging. "We can fight against them, and I bet our parents will accept to shelter Katsuki in the meantime, alright?"

The girl received, instead of a pat to relieve her distress, a pat on her head with a heartwarming caress. The rain seemed to be dashing away from them, breaking light into the scene. "Do you think we can keep them at bay? Won't they invade us?"

Kirishima was mildly relieved to see the topic steer away from Katsuki, and looked at her warmly despite the rain covering his tough skin. "Of course they won't, and if they dare touch you, horsey Harold will always protect the miss." and Nameless laughed, because it had been years since she last called him like that and it brought this sense of tranquility within her stirring soul. "Besides, we all know you can protect yourself, can't you?"

Nameless tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "What would you even mean with that?"

There was a blatant silence of rain and tempesting chaos afterwards.

The galloping of the horses in northern direction filled the rocky area of the valley, echoing and reverberating on the crisp walls of the snow kissed mountains. Hail was close to falling on the guild, being barely held in by the gray clouds above the sky. Fog wafted in the air and got denser the closer they got to their final destination, and Uraraka didn't know what to make out of all this without feeling dread and fright for what was to come– she didn't fear death, but feared what could be casted upon her close mates.

She hugged Jack's body closer to her as their horse trailed behind Kirishima's at the fastest pace possible, as if the beast laid behind them and not so agonizingly far away from their reach, but as biting breezes and rain scattering in the distance, with dust being picked up from their hurried race against the clocks, the disturbances started gaining presence and announcing the life-challenging battle that waited for them in the depths of the mountain.

The guild was in complete silence all the ride. Uraraka guessed they chose individual meditation over collective encouraging, yet she felt off without a certain word of hope to put her at ease. Not even their rowdy leader was letting out a word, as of the stars had fallen from the sky and crushed his confidence. In fact, she could swear he looked tenser than usual, but wasn't that normal? She didn't know why had expected him to be more outspoken on his feelings and more lax about them, but the thought of having him be insecure now bore into her like a drill.

She hugged her cawl closer to her chest, feeling the impossible warmth of the thick clothing wrap around her like a hug – one she could use right now, can't lie. Her stomach did those awkward flip-flops, threatening to leap out of her mouth and leave her broken on the ground, making her hands feel heavier than usual as they gorged with blood and want to finish this mission, to just get it out of the way and see what comes out of it.

Her brow furrowed as the silence blanketed on across the guild, feeling how her lack of syntony with them only seemed to boom in her eyes and heart. She felt so isolated in this horse, with Jack, a reality so close and palpable yet so intangible and far away, as if the rain couldn't be shaken off, unbroken. She yanked her eyes off the road to look at Jack's nape. "Are you scared?"

Her voice wasn't meek, she wasn't scared for the battle or her life, and Jack knew this. After all, Uraraka was a fearsome battle in the rags of a small bug, so it didn't surprise Jack to hear her ask such thing. She, however, couldn't be more wrong about this, and time would come to prove this. "Scared? Don't be foolish. It seems like a rather easy enemy if you asked me."

"Enemy." worded the brunette, fazed by how small the word looked compared to the true feat she knew this was. For some reason, this feeling wasn't new to her, the asynchrony and void of the situation– could she say it was even familiar to her? "RampAge is an overly big and important monster, you know."

Jack nodded and whipped at the horse to go faster. Her hands tightened around the ropes, and of all people, it was Uraraka who noticed. "I know. But that doesn't mean I can't be confident on our skills, either."

True, conceded Uraraka, hearing her own cloak somehow whisper the opposite as it slapped on the horse's back. "Do you think we'll be alright?"

Jack craned her head a little to look at Uraraka, her eyes painted in solid resolve that the hunter would love to mirror, but she found it harder and harder to do so the more they ran into the mazes. It was somehow flabbergasting to see Uraraka so confident when they had no plan or strategy and she was one of the most – if not the most – important member of their small army. She sometimes even wondered why she herself was so calm when she had little faith on this messy fixer-upper.

Was this some kind of curse cast upon her, destined to feign indifference to the point of even feeling it? Why was everyone so confident when there was no absolute certainty that they would win? Her eyes met Uraraka's again, and they flickered in agreement, silently transferring mutual encouragement to the other. For Uraraka, that was more than enough, but if Jack had stepped out of the shadows and somehow shown vulnerability, then…?

Uraraka laid her head on the hunter's back and looked at the blonde man riding the black horse, and by the way he was sitting it was obvious he was more used to Amelie's back, soaring up in the sky and firing their foes away– but it was different this time, and the thought somehow made Bakugou look more human and small in that horse, waiting for the same faith as he was. For a second, she felt a small conexion carve itself between them, but Uraraka cut it short. She had no time left to think about that.

Feeling her honey eyes on him, Bakugou turned his eyes ever so slightly to find her looking ahead once again. His eyes scrutinized the threaded pattern of her clothing, not used to seeing her so covered up. Come to think about it, he had seen her wear it during their encounters as well. Something was up with that annoying coat. "She's wearing it so tightly." mused he in a low voice, looking forward. "What the heck's with that damn Uraraka."

The aforementioned sighed into Jack's leather uniform, letting the warmth suffocate her to the point all she could think about was how she knew this would work out, as if it was written in the stars that hung loose in the sky, rotating to see them fight and crash into the stratosphere like lost meteorites, aimlessly aiming for the Earth and landing into a fight Uraraka didn't understand, couldn't comprehend, yet she knew what she had to do, how to sort this out, and the plan behind this madness.

Her back still had chills from the prior night and she just couldn't shake them off. It was horribly disturbing to have that man's face imprinted with burning iron on her sensitive brain, bland and tender. She was getting tougher the more seconds that passed, the forest blurring in a myriad of blues and faded greens and whites before she saw a peak in the horizon. Her throat choked down a good gulp of trembling anxiety. She didn't fear death, she couldn't this far into history, but feared for what could happen during and after it.

She didn't fear the reaper coming to end her life, but she felt, as always, that this was rushing in too forcefully. She had lived this before, somewhere.

"We are getting closer to RampAge's lair!" spoke Bakugou finally, getting his horse to march in the front. Uraraka looked around the outstanding peak, cold biting at her cheeks, and realized that if it weren't for the obvious pressure in the air and the context of their presence, she'd think there was no one habitating the area. The disturbances were getting edgier and sharper, distorting trees and creating abrupt mounts on the ground. That small fear of what could happen when these issues, threads and knots were released settled in again for some minutes, maybe decades before she was able to drown it in acetone and gasoline.

The path took a dip down for which Uraraka braced onto Jack for dear life, releasing her for a second afterwards but silently grabbing her jacket when the hollow mountain was just a lake away. Literally a lake away, as there was a frozen pond separating the group from the monster inside the husk. Bakugou shamelessly clopped over the ice, the small pads on their legs making it possible to not slide off. They had had to cross so much snow that the horses were actually equipped with winter gear.

"We gotta make it in quick!" yelled Midoriya to the people behind, drawing out his sword. It was instantly engulfed in a golden fire that lit up all around him, making Uraraka curious about what kind of power did it have. "The gate will close soon, we have no time to spare! Get ready to dash!"

Jack smashed the whips on the horse and it plummeted forward across the ice, following closely behind Kaminari's and Kirishima's as the hunter grimaced in concentration. Uraraka, not knowing how to contribute, touched the horse after getting her gloves off and reduced its gravity ever so slightly to make it lighter, instantly making it advance faster towards the entrance. As they passed past Kaminari and Kirishima, Uraraka reached out to touch both horses and they gleamed in a pinkish hue before treading faster in pace with Jack.

"The gate is opening!" announced Kirishima as the rock mouth started to trail upwards. Uraraka grimaced as she held the gravity nullification a bit tighter, grabbing Jack's jacket as a small wave of nausea hit over her. The blur of the hurried horses and the spin of her head clearly showed that while Uraraka was an expertised sorcerer, she still had a novice's control on her own special ability.

The guild dashed through the gates, entering a steep tunnel down the built cave and dim lights of various gems embedded to the dark blue walls, flashing across the dark corridor full of dust and sand on the ground. Their loud steps echoed in the wide passage in some kind of silent warning, reverberating in deeper small booms of sound that reached across the corridor, deep and tough, til a small spark of light shone at the ending of the cave.

"The exit is near!" Uraraka winced and was almost deafened when Bakugou talked, the pressure of RampAge's presence so obvious it was making her sick. Judging by the way she saw Kaminari hold the bridles near them, this wasn't a walk down a forest for him either. "Get your asses ready, we're gonna plast through!"

But the moment they funneled through the hallway into the wide opening of the mountain, there was no grand reception as practically everyone had expected. A hush of silence wafted limped on the area, hung loose, as if light yet so heavy given the circumstances. Deciding to be cautious, Bakugou ordered them to be silent and he hopped off his horse, urging his peers to do the same.

Uraraka jumped and bounced to a place at the back of the guild, cautious for whatever thing could happen with her being the trump card of this game. Despite the cold temperature of the huge cavern, her body temperature was still as high as she needed it to be, so all was good in that department. Everyone was looking around like maniacs, as if RampAge would spark out of nowhere despite its obvious size. Keeping her eyes skeptic but alert, Uraraka glanced around.

Her breath hitched when she looked to the upper side of the cavern. "The bridges." murmured she, tugging her cowl and uniform up her face, covering her chin. Up till now, all the rules of the book had been fulfilled, yet there was no enemy around. What was even stranger was to see everyone so tense, yet muted. They had their hands on their respective weapons, some tried to slow their pace down until they were left in the sidelines for the support they had been ordered to give.

A few minutes later, only few of them were stepping ahead. Her steps were slow, a breeze tugging at her clothes as a blatant light started shining in the distance. The frozen, transparent back of the mountain let the horizon issue a blinding foreshadow on the final fight, making time stop and rewind as they mentally prepared themselves for the final jam, weapons clutched tightly while Uraraka simple stroked her hands and cowl with misplaced care. Her home was lost in the tangles of time, she had nowhere to go now, and the rain couldn't be heard anymore.

There was a big shake beneath the ground, deep where demons slept and anger was restless, and the shadows of the warriors grew in length the intenser the light grew. There was then a big crack, the feeling of something falling down like a planet collisioned into another, a crash, and the feeling of their stomachs falling through their bodies as the ground lowered a little, giving view to a rising figure that threw a magnificent shadow over the flabbergasted warriors.

There it was. Standing at the height the book specified, the shape it carved and the exact same screeching noise of disturbance everyone had expected. The presence of the looming monster, such giant creature that it felt like it was going to crash down on the very damn earth, its height indescribable and endless– it left Uraraka breathless, speechless, melting into the reality of what fearsome beast they were going against. However, she was able to look closer with her trained eye. "So… that's what you are."

RampAge let out as horrible screech again, and the pressure of the room skyrocketed and forced them all to their knees, slamming a deaf noise on the ground. Before she was able to do anything about it, Midoriya drove his sword into the ground, twisted it, and light filled the cracks until the pressure snapped loose and shook the walls a little. When she was on her knees, Uraraka frowned – was that his ability? Judging by how there was no significant effect on his body, it didn't look like it.

She then looked at the monster, which as predicted, stood idle before them, far away but still too close to her liking. She then realized as lights blended with rocky surface that there was a thick layer of ice coating the creature. This small setback made her purse her lips and knit her eyebrows in focus, but it seemed like Bakugou sure had a plan to counteract this. His frame dashed by hers and left a gust of wind between him, swinging his scythe back with a jump that made all dust scatter from the spot.

He then called out a explosion that threw him to the enemy's awaiting arms, and Uraraka, for some reason, wanted to stop him. She took a step forward, tried to run, but all air seemed to be knocked off her lungs as Bakugou exploded against RampAge, creating such a wave of impact that the sorcerer fell down and rolled some behind, watching the smoke clear off slowly as Bakugou landed near her as he was thrown off the black cloud.

His soles hissed against the rocky surface, and he was back on his feet sooner than she was. Smoke oozed from his hands, he cleaned a bead of sweat off his forehead, and Uraraka came to the ground-breaking realization that the sole hand he had used for the attack – because he was either that brash or he had something up his sleeve – was swollen, close to tearing part of the muscles apart. One or two more blasts and his fire show would be done for.

However, Uraraka was mesmerized and glad to see the core of the icy layer had been cracked to a very satisfying degree. She watched Bakugou walk to Todoroki's side. "Finish the job. That shield's gotta go out of the way."

And Todoroki dashed forward, charging his sword on fire and setting his side on embers with a menacing brow that promised justice– but Uraraka wondered, with a worried frown and a tilt to her lips, was this how the battle was supposed to go? Reportedly, thousands of lives had been lost in this battle, and the fierceness that Bakugou was showing this early in the battle clearly proved that something even worse laid behind… then, why was this feeling so easy right off the bat?

True, they couldn't attack with a nuking tactic this early because of the ice layer, yet she sensed that something was off with this battle. Not only the tactic, or the weird layout, or just how unexpected this battle was unfolding. No– it was the wind, the huffing pants of her leader and the feeling of the ground already meeting her body and burying her alive. She had been through this before.

There was a shattering noise in the distance, and millions of ice shards flew to their frontier that Todoroki tried to deflect, yet he only ended up protecting himself. Before they could even grace their bodies, Uraraka dived her arm forward in a swaying notion and called out a rocky barrier that covered them all in a shadow, and the ice shattered at the contact into smithereens. Afterwards, Uraraka took a step back and run forward, hitting the air with a powered kick that effortlessly destroyed the giant barrier.

The sorcerer panted, letting the coiling fire of her soul rise into her eyes, determination crowning her serious expression with a slight tilt of her eyebrows. The leader stared at her, speechless, as if he couldn't remember that she could pull trick like those in a second, but something else akin to admiration laid beneath that proud layer But there was no time for that.

"We only got one opportunity to destroy that motherfucker." hissed the blonde, discarding his cape and letting it float away of them. "And we're gonna do it, no doubt about it."

Uraraka was confident they would, but what reason did they have to be so sure on this outcome? She had her own confidence – after all, little parts of her trusted her fate on those hands of their – but what made them hold so dearly onto their little false, plastic and transparent lies? There was nothing behind Bakugou's heart, the man that laid behind his eyes long dead when they entered this forsaken mountain.

In the end, there was nothing left for her in these people's hearts. What made her worry so much, then? "We gotta go for the kill and shatter that bastard to pieces, hear me? Give it all you got."

In cue, Todoroki's body was on fire again, Midoriya was suddenly wrapped in bright golden light and Bakugou had his hands steaming with nitroglycerin again, she could smell the sweat reeking from his skin. She, meanwhile, allowed her hands to be engulfed by the biggest of flames, let it escalate to her arms, but held it there. Fire and light crackled in silence as RampAge roared in the distance. The mysterious light shone through the ice barrier.

Bakugou pushed a foot behind. "Ready?" his three peers nodded, letting their magic shine a bit brighter. "Let's fucking go!"

Their confidence somehow made her think that, who knows, maybe they could beat him in one go now that they were enoughly charged up. After all, she didn't know how the other battles had unfolded, so she just let herself run free towards Bakugou, trailing close behind Midoriya as the fire tickled her jaw, tainting her eyes in orange as fire tore the skin of her heart. It was getting warmer, hotter, brighter, until all Uraraka could see was the hopeful sun shining behind their enemy.

The four of them jumped with pained screams of power, unleashing havoc and destruction all at once: Midoriya's power giving RampAge an incredible hit that made it stumble, Bakugou's biggest explosion again shining and Todoroki and Uraraka's gale of fire that covered the whole monster and squeezed it in unfathomable heat that then imploded to only release all the tension with a wave of explosions that sent the whole team back to their places.

The four landed in scattered positions across the battlefield, landing with a roll that scraped their skin and gave them a sensation of feeling, again, motionless bodies resting the unleash off. The support team was immediately by their side, casting spells that Bakugou rejected once he could see again. He didn't even manage to stand up, knowing his hands were done for the day, but his confident smirk showed that he wouldn't need them, either. "Get that trash off me, the battle's fucking over."

Uraraka heard him from a few meters away and actually believed him. She... she actually believed him when she knew better than anyone that she had zero reasons to trust his words, knowing them to be feeble, desperate and most of the times, devoid of meaning. Yet, she believed him when he said it was over, when he tried to assure his people that this… short fight had been it, just a show of lights, piece of cake.

But Uraraka knew, deep inside, that he was wrong If experience had taught her anything was to never swear by him, never stick to his beliefs, and clutch to her own heart lest he dared break it. With a wince, Uraraka stroked the gravel under her hands, let it dig into her bruised skin, and knelt to see the smoke clear up with a frown. The light threw streaks into the ground like truth being shed into a crowd of bunched lies, tangled together and twisted in the sole hand of the maniac that laid behind her, speechless at was what to come.

That was probably the reason why only her got the guts to get up and face the enemy, wind blowing on her hair and clothes as she stared at RampAge's standing form, wrecked yet still standing, as if no years or harm had come on it. Silence accompanied her stare, frowning at the view in front of her: the shadow of a long lost enemy, one that seemed unbeatable, yet she knew better than what they all could see. In fact, it was the reason why she was starting to let the cowl do its work– because at the end of the day, in the end of this story, she was the one who was right all along.

"What the FUCK!" let Bakugou out, struggling to stand up. He sure hadn't stored any stamina in case they needed another attack, but everyone knew that he was done for the day. Impossible to think, but after such devastating attacks with such short preparation, he had ran out of fuel. The leader had made a tremendous miscalculation. "How can that fucker still be…" Asui carefully tried to take care of his right hand, yet it seemed almost beyond repair at this point, his skin ragged and almost torn. "FUCK!"

"I don't know, but" Midoriya stood up with care, aware of some small broken bones after such tremendous fall, not to mention the wound to their pride after their attack had had such little effect. Was it the technique, did it lack power, was it too little? they would never know unless they tried… once again! The leader let his ability fill his body with power, charging him up again. He smiled bravely at his peer, who frowned yet nodded in agreement. "we're going to take him down!"

Todoroki stood up once again, chuckling at the green-haired leader and starting to remember why he had become such a good leader to start with. He started another fire once again, but the lights were desperately higher than they should. If the man was reeled in by some inner dispute or just determination, he didn't show: yet the frown in his eyes and the snarl of his lips… it was a tell-tale proof. "Yaoyorozu, we'll need force support."

He didn't even need to look behind him, Todoroki knew Yaoyorozu had already charged up crazy weapons for them to use as backups. He smiled through the pain when he heard a match be lit– she was that dependable. "Leave it to us!"

And despite having his powers mostly rendered useless and having the balances make him the weakest member of the attacking warriors, Bakugou refused to stay behind. "We're gonna crush some ass today."

Before taking another tentative pose for another run, the blonde took some seconds to stare at Uraraka's stone face, who had said zero words whatsoever on this matter despite having probably one of the highest hands ever. He grunted, ignoring the way she seemed impassive at the prospect of attacking til they gave up, because he didn't fucking care– except that he did, deep inside, but his ire wouldn't let him see otherwise until the lights died. "Once again, go!"

A beat of silence, then steps marching forward and then breaking into an aimless run, pointing all their focus on RampAge and feeling their hearts soar in pride when the motherfucker tilted a little to the left. Bakugou smirked in his run, not letting the blatant pain in his hands hinder his pride and even hurried his feet to go faster, faster, and just faster to blast that nuisance into the oblivion he had been invited to ages and ages ago. But he missed to watch after one single detail.

While they were running, Uraraka took a sharp turn to the right and started climbing up the walls of the cave, her eyes on a small platform carved into the walls of the cave and only urging her screaming body to go faster despite the blisters, despite the numbness, despite it desperately wanting to give up. But she refused. Over and over, as the rockes stabbed her fingers and her boots slipped on the steps, the squared her jaw and tried again– for this was her destiny, the one she was meant to live, the one she would have and the one she'd fucking fight for.

After reaching the top, Uraraka called out rush of wint to knock her forward, giving her the impulse for a faster run and reduced her own gravity pull, her race becoming a much faster one than the one deep below her feet. Uraraka was basically flying towards RampAge at this time, diving forward from a wall of the cave and unnaturally sniffing ever so slightly as the cold bit in her face, yet her body was ready for everything. Absolutely everything.

Panting, and even before she could even hesitate, Uraraka took a turn when she was at RampAge's level– and it all occurred in such painful slow motion that Uraraka couldn't help but even feel relieved that this was going to happen, and embraced herself for the ride that was about to come. Her feet trudged across the narrow passage and stopped for a second, catching her breath.

Then, without further ado, she fisted her hands and constricted her muscles, her body starting to be consumed by fires as they not only took over her arms, but also licked at her feet, her legs, her stomach, and it didn't take much more until she herself became aliment for the fire to destroy, the ends of her hair catching on the embers as her eyes glowed in a misty shade of burning, angry and livid red, ticking down the seconds before it all bursted– and she jumped, soared across the sky of the mountain in zero gravity as fire surrounded her body, consumed her heart and ended up consuming… her, as well.

Fire was all around her, all she could see, all she could feel, what she had become– this was what she was getting, what she wanted, what she considered to be… a happy ending.

Bakugou and his mates obviously noticed the blaring orange and red above of them, and he pushed them all to a sudden stop. "Hold it, what the shit is that!?"

And then, Uraraka closed her eyes. Her body was wise, and noticed the comfortable heat leaving her, cold and ice starting to ever so slowly creep into the corners of her body, and she knew she was running out of time, she had to do something or all these weeks, all these months, all these years and… everything suddenly came down to this, this very sole moment. Her feet were in the air, her body becoming an incandescent flame, aware of what she had to do.

Uraraka breathed in deep, finally unleashing all the tremendous heat she had been hiding under the cloak, concealed inside her body, and an enormous planet of fire and hell orbited around her frail body that had suddenly created such magnificent blast, tenths and tenths times bigger than herself, that it left everyone in the battlefield speechless. But there was one person who watched this scene unfold with, for once, his heart in the clutches of his weakened, broken hands.

Thus, Uraraka did what she had to. Right before her fire cannon reached its peak, she deactivated her floating. "Borrow the power…" mumbled she, feeling the gravity laws slam into her like a mountain crumbling under a natural disaster, and her body spiralled down and down and down like a meteorite, and suddenly, she couldn't see who she was anymore, feeling death's icy grip knock on her doors. "...and give it back to the light!"

And her body fell like an asteroid crashing against a unshielded planet, crashing against RampAge like a fucking tsunami with a loud, deaf and intense thud of power that released onto the ground, waking up a sea of dirt and wind and knocking everyone off their feet as the fire collided with the ice, broke it into miserable pieces and shone brighter than the sun outside, than a star, filling the mountain before releasing a devastating explosion that provoked a mild earthquake under everyone's feet.

A second later, there was rubble and a loud crash in the distance, blasting into the mountain's side like a shooting star, then a fallen titan stumbling on its place and screaming for mercy before falling into the ditch it had come from, its cries drowned out by the abyss that closed its claws on him and finally gave the monster its deserved end.

There was a rush of forced silence as the rubble and the fog after the crash started clearing up, all accompanied with a fizz of hushed tranquility after the small symphony of chaos that woman had orchestrated, such unquenchable curiosity filling him that it took him a whole second to realize what had just happened一 and when Bakugou did, when the dust finally gave birth to the light of the aftermath, what he would find concealed by the debris made his breath hitch, his eyes widen, and his throat let out a heartrending cry of despair, breathing her name like a chant before getting up.

But before he could get anywhere, the earth under his feet shook violently for a small moment. He sharply turned to face a panicking Midoriya. "Seal that drift before that fucker gets anywhere!"

The green-haired took a step forward, but the look of utter horror in Bakugou's eyes, something so unique to see and too unusual to start being a good thing一 he took a step back, frozen. "Baku-"

"I said you fucking seal the damn drift already!" screamed the blonde, turning heel a second after to run, run and run desperately towards the pile of rubble on the side of the battlefield, wishing to already see what was inside一 but at the same time just wanting, for once in his life, to just run away, to save the trouble of seeing something that would break his heart, of seeing something he had grown to care about be shattered before his eyes without him being able to do a single damn thing一

Bakugou clenched his jaw tightly, screwing his eyes shut for a moment as the piles of rocks only seemed to grow in size, the air hot and making him start to choke both in emotion and lack of air, his throat constricted in such a tight raspy knot that it was desperately difficult to breath in this silly run that, unbeknownst to him, would change his life forever. His head was already searching for immediate answers that would quench his anxiety, yet nothing had really prepared him for what he was about to find in the middle of the broken light, air blowing peacefully, and birds singing outside.

This was not what was supposed to happen. He never asked for this一 for whatever bullshit this was.

He had never asked for this.

"Uraraka!" no answer, just the tattering of rocks rolling down the piles as he moved them around, searching for her body. "Fucking hell, answer me! Answer me!

But he found nothing. No blood oozing from the pile, no coughs, no berating from her for even doubting of her health一 for the first time in his life, he was met with silence from her, from the woman that had sworn to never give up on him, to always care, to keep on smiling, one he had only pushed away, given enough hints to keep her by so selfishly that he never realized, until now, how much of his icy heart had ended up landing into her waiting hands.

Then, he saw brown. Broken strands, caked mud, and then a patch of skin. Seeing this, Bakugou could only breathe out her name in a lied, foolish relief. "Uraraka. Thank fucking god一" he chuckled weakly, as if trying to keep the candle of his personality alive against the winding truth. "your ass is ok, regardless I would ha一"

A lone rock rolled to his feet, clearing the way and letting the man see what had truly happened in front of his eyes when she launched herself so recklessly against his mortal enemy, what she had done to herself in the process 一 what he had done, too 一 and was viscerally mortified at the heart-wrenching image, drowning out the steps of his peers rushing to his and Midoriya's aid. But there was nothing that could be done.

Deep inside, he knew it was too late. Looking into her dead, crystal eyes, he knew it was too fucking late. A meek sob escaped his lips. "URARAKA!"

Bakugou shoved the rocks out of the way, wanted to make them explode into pieces to stop hindering his stubborn march into the arms of heartbreak and tragedy, but when he had her near, he was already tasting the bittersweet flavor of irony, of seeing the unmovable object of his life be crushed at the seams of fate. His steps were staggered, arrhythmic, hesitant, a crawl. When he has her in front of him, body next to body and eyes staring into others 一 hers weren't staring back. In fact, they never would again 一 something snapped inside of him, slowly, meaningless words of his being overlapped by the various speeches of hers.

"W-Wake up." ordered he. Trying to maintain his pride, his honor, yet when she didn't answer back like she always would, his world came falling down. His knees bubkled to the ground, but he made no sound of recognition. Nor did he move against his feelings like he always would一 above all against her. He now understood why. "Wake up, Uraraka."

He had always told her to stop fighting. Why was she complying now, of all times? This wasn't what he wanted.

Bakugou made his way to her on his knees in a pitiful version of the man he had always pretended to be, and held her dead gaze for two seconds before clenching his lids shut. "F-For fuck's sake…" his shoulders trembled, then his hands came to hold the burnt edges of her frost-bitten cowl. He had held her like this so many times, and the sole notion only made it hurt even more. "W-Wake up! It's a fuckung command now!"

But she didn't. Her body had a thin layer of frost all over her skin and clothes, arms coated in glassy ice and her lips blue, parted. Her skin was sickeningly pale, so fucking cold under his now tender, warm touch, when she had always been the one to smile it off and grant him the sunshine he had craved, very deep inside. Hypothermia has frozen her over, rendered her into a souless machine that had killed the enemy, yet taken something he had learned to treasure away.

The sweet of success and release had lured her away from his reaching hands, and before he knew it, Uraraka had walked away into the light.

"What the fuck do you think…" he almost hesitated, but his heart was beating too out of control to notice, his head had been completely thrown into havoc the moment she took a step back from him. The moment she walked away, he had opened his arms.

And ever so devotedly, letting his inner feelings shine, Bakugou took her forearms, covered her with his cape and cradled her body to his chest. "... that you are fucking doing, angelface?"

All he was met with was silence, her heart frozen over as the land he came to know burned down to the ground. His anger soared, his skin hurt like needles the more her body got cold, and the shell of a broken man howled to the sun with a scream full of anguish and pain, tremendous feelings coming into the golden lights that had received this sorcerer in the cruelest way possible: defeating the enemy that nor him or his mother had been to.

"Why." murmured he into her snowy hair, closing his eyes even tighter as her arms fell limp to the ground. The shelter of the rocky barricade didn't drown the steps coming towards them. "Why… of all people… you fucking had to make me feel this way…"

Someone stepped near them. A low quake reverberated from under them. "Bakugou, we gott-" Asui allowed her voice to trail off as she made out the pale, blueish face of her friend. "it can't… what-"

Bakugou's gasp for air interrupted her own shock. "Tell me you can help her… I'm fucking begging you…"

Seeing this stale, stone carved man be so affected by such image, Asui didn't waste any time and jumped down to Uraraka's side, taking the pulse that Bakugou had forgotten to, too grief-stricken to bother. Asui let out a sigh, but her hands trembled. "She's… freezing."

Bakugou's brow knit, then he looked down at the body he had secured in his arms. "Freezing?"

"She must have given up her body temperature for that attack… and her body is now responding to that loss." explained the sorcerer in a hushed voice, staring at the body in pure disbelief. And seeing Bakugou this affected… she didn't know what to feel. "She's not dead but… she's almost over the edge."

"Can we-"

"No." answered Asui, taking a hand to her mouth as sadness ran over her pupils, shattering Bakugou's left patience as the remaining ripples of the earthquake started rising beneath them. "There's nothing we can do… she's gone."

That was the first and last moment Asui saw something literally break inside of him, turning his head to the dying sorcerer in his arms, one he had tucked so securely now when he had had so many moments to do so, so many moments to fix this relationship and all he had done was beat her to the ground when she was a step too close from throwing him away, a breath away from his heart, and left her in a bloody mess in the middle of the ground.

Eventually, he got what he deserved. He knew, deep inside, he never deserved her kindness一 hell, he told her countless times, that he didn't need it, that he didn't want it, but she never fucking gave up, kept on pushing until she had made a big crack, and with her absence, it turns out the key to his heart was broken, and now all he had was the shambles of a star, crossing the galaxies until, like he had wished for vocally many times, she was consumed and faded into the broken light.

Turns out he didn't know what feeling was until he lost her.

"It can't be…" whimpered Bakugou, looking at her once again but only regretting his decision as small spikes of ice surfaced from her chest, and Asui quickly started wrapping her in blankets to make the process stop一 yet, Bakugou hugged her close and let himself feel her scent waft around him, despite his body yelling at him to push her frozen corpse from his cooling body. "This can't be happening…"

The earthquake under their feet started cracking faster and in a more intense way, making the drift where RampAge was buried start to widen, and a shimmer of light was seen in the background before Bakugou tightened his grip on her and craned his head to the heavens above.

"THIS CAN'T BE FUCKING HAPPENING!"

And with a small scream from the other leader, a golden, blinding light washed over the mountain as the broken leader held her to his chest one last time, the last thing heard being his chokes and chants of her name before everything faded away for a moment.

In the end, they had won. In the end, this was their happily ever after, washed over golden light and stepping forward一 sans Uraraka.

It had been ten days ever since the incident. Exactly ten days ever since. And Bakugou hadn't been allowed into her room just yet.

Admittedly, he wasn't in the best mental condition to do so. In fact, he probably was in the worst condition possible to pay her a visit. Everyone could see that he was still steeming too much anger to be held in for so long until he snapped at her一 despite the fact that, theoretically, there was no her anymore, because she was gone and everyone but him had accepted this reality the moment they saw her being carried away.

And it was such a strange thing to witness, seeing Bakugou stay silent more than an hour without snapping at anyone. To be fair, the guild had gone silent ever since she had been gone, because the pain was still there despite her being一 having been a new addition to the guild, but perhaps that was what made it all more saddening, that they never got to help her with her amnesia, that no one ever got to see the truest colors she wore and for how longer she could shine. Or, perhaps, there was something else to it, the familiarity of the situation and how it seemed like she had been there all their lives.

Everyone had learned to accept fate like it had been handed to them, not even budging for a few days before everyone started to fall into pace again with life, and raised their heads to face the music and go on. It took some more than it took others, but everyone found strength to fight back and start recovering. After all, that was the way Uraraka would have wanted it.

Everyone tried to move forward. Everyone, sans Bakugou.

Because ever since then, he hadn't found the backbone to fight against the air around him, or bark at anybody who tried to comfort him一 to some, it would seem like by being silent and motionless he was accepting the hugs and condolences, as if she had meant anything to him. Deep inside though, everyone knew that what they had seen that day would be buried inside of them to never be brought up again.

But the image still stuck to them, and it was hard to get over it. Again, it was as if she had been there from day one: her smile plaguing the corridors, the edges of each table, the wilting sunflowers seemingly withering over the emptiness of a full room. Hell, even Kaminari was learning to eat his soup for her sake in an oath of respect, and Jack had somehow found solace in reading her books for the sake of knowing what had exactly went through her mind. Corrosive much, yet she felt it was necessary for her to move on, to stop hearing dauntless steps plaguing the corridors as if she was still there.

Yaoyorozu had grown a bit too shy, and Todoroki had maybe shrunk over this. Everyone had taken a blow because of this, but Bakugou… it was as if he was alone, as if he was ignoring the fact that the world was still spinning, that there were many other people who needed him and that he could find somebody like her sooner or later一 but he knew best, with gritted teeth and ghost tears plagging his eyes, that it wasn''t true. Because there was no one like her who was so overly stupid to chase after him and then turn back when they were so close to perfection.

But they weren't perfect. Scratch that. She probably was, and inside, he knew it was him who did it all wrong. While he would be all mighty outside, his heart had developed a tender layer of humbleness that she had sown ever so slowly into him一 it was maybe what made it so hard to move on: that no matter where he went, a part of her and her smile was still imprinted in his mind.

So the point still prevailed: he wasn't to be allowed into her room, let alone on his own. He had asked and even demanded for it since it was his guild, his teammate, and he had the right to see her because damn it, only he knew her best. However, he had always been met with a gentle hand 一 he wasn't used to the gentleness he never gave being given to him, when the only one to be gentle to him yet unbreakable had been her 一 and he never took it lightly.

Above all, that pitiful smile and then, always and always a frown of concern. They'd always say it was for his welfare, that he couldn't see her yet because he'd only end up hurting himself because actually seeing her like this meant processing everything, out of the chaotic battlefield. Bullshit he called一 he had seen her first and had dealt with the trauma perfectly fine, what would happen if he saw her once and for all?

Maybe it would even be good for him.

Of course it would.

Because there would be no ice, no blood, as if she was asleep! And he continued with that delirious contentment of obliviousness, deceit and blindness, turning his eyes to a side and letting that mindset carry his feet to the corridor, down the stairs, through another dark, cold corridor that no light step had stepped on一 not the step and the person he wanted to, at least 一 and reached her wooden door.

He clutched the fabric of his pants and bunched them between the gaps of his fingers. Bakugou took a deep breath, and let the silence soak him whole for, after all, this was all he would be met with whenever he asked or screamed, and he had to get used to that. After all, wasn't that silence, the lack of her voice, what had dragged him down so much?

He knocked on the door and immediately regretted that. It felt as if he was staggering on a pole, across a deep valley and a river of failed choices, and just by knowing that he was stupid because no one would answer一 fuck, this was gonna be harder than he considered.

He even contempted the idea of Midoriya being right.

He suddenly didn't even consider it anymore.

With that, Bakugou turned the knob, as if to not disturb her, and swung the door open. The orange light of sunset bathed the cold room in an uncharacteristic warm light, making it feel inhabited and cozy, but he knew better than that. The curtains blew and slapped against the small couch on a corner, against the pristine window panes that glimmered on the dying sun.

But when Bakugou slowly let his eyes wander to the bed to the right side of the room, he was greeted with an empty mattress.

She was gone.

"What the-" muttered Bakugou, frantically looking everywhere his eyes reached as the image of her empty bed, as if it was a freshly opened tomb, greeted him. It was such a blaring scenography that he had, at some point turn his eyes back from the bed to look out the window. "Who- what the hell!"

After two seconds of letting his impatience grow, Bakugou's heart started thumping against his ribcage, all grief and torment pushed aside for the time being for the sake of the ire building up inside of him, making it hard to distinguish whose room this was now as he made his way out of the door, screaming at the top of his lungs as he almost slammed the door off its hinges.

"SOMEONE, COME FUCKING HERE!" was heard in the distance from the empty room, a comfortable breeze pushing in as he was gone. "WHO THE FUCK TOOK URARAKA? WHERE THE HELL IS SHE?"

A figure stood at the cliff, looking over the sleeping town in silence. Her cape flickered with the western wind, the sun setting behind the mountains as a playful wind toyed with the hem of her hoodie in silence. The figure reached to tug it down a little, then looked down at the houses below her feet with a thoughtful expression.

An eagle circled the air above, flying around for some minutes before diving into its owner with unkeen grace and landing on her shoulder. It nuzzled her cheek through the cloak, she lovingly stroked him back, almost smiling with a finger under its chin. After that, there was a gap of silence that she broke with a solemn face of remorse. "It was good while it lasted." however, a tiny twinkle of joy appeared in her eyes, and a tear dared spill down her cheek. There was the ghost of a smile in her face. "but we must say goodbye for now."

She had to be strong, keep pushing on until she finally discovered what lay at the other side of this broken mountain. For this, she pushed her fears aside, knew that if no one would help her move the mountain to her side, perhaps she'd have to climb it up alone.

"Fairy," called a voice in the distance, and when she looked back, she saw her future peer looking at her with impatience, arms closed as he stood before the path to the desert. "we got no time to waste."

She nodded, face adopting a very familiar determined frown as she stared back at Shinsou with the very same fiery bravery as always. The brunette dedicated the ghost town a last glance, and then urged her eagle to look forward as she adjusted her hoodie on her head, throwing it over her eyes and whipping her cape over the sleeping, silent village that rested underneath her step, faded into orange. "Let's get going, Edgar."

And Uraraka walked away into the sunset, the hands of her friends holding her together fading into the warm, thin air.

"We gotta get ready for the final match."

#HNNNNNNNNNNNNNG #DEEP GRUNTLE #kacchako #kacchako fanfiction #fanfiction #BNHA #I NEED WATER WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCKING HEEEEELL