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Date: 7/17/24 00:50 (UTC)( after all, why is cosplay any worse than being in the backseat of a taxi? everything is equally mortifying like that, though he doesn't much care himself; whatever they do, it won't ride on his shoulders for long if his plans follow through. it'll be bakugou that's forced to live with the memories--he won't have any memories, if he's dead. it's not really a thought that bothers him, as much as he knows it should: but then it's hard to explain to someone who fights so viciously for his own life, for his own dreams, who is powered by so much ego and a will to succeed, that he just doesn't have that kind of spark himself, anymore. what else could he hope for, at this point? the fire that endeavor had lit inside of him could never be replaced with anything but retribution, and it's not like he can go and become any kind of hero now.
there's a slow breath, measured, as he tallies up the ideas. it's not so bad for a list to start--hell, bakugou bringing up a nice hotel, or even a resort, some kind of weekend getaway, sounds like the kind of dangerous thing that would make someone actually feel excited, that would make something actually want for something in their life. he'd never really gotten the chance to do anything like that when he'd been younger: endeavor had been too busy to take them anywhere, despite all the money, and his mother would have never survived being trapped in such a confined space with him for so long. not to mention the rest of the kids.
he hates it, a little bit. the idea that bakugou can offer these things out like they're nothing. they'd probably mean nothing, right? if the war goes the way the heroes want it to, and it's the villains that end up wiped off the planet, then what? will bakugou think back on nights they spent, tucked into some plush apartment bed on the coast in the middle of nowhere, and feel sad? pleased? angry? justified?
his hand squeezes, slight, along bakugou's waist. )
Write it all down tomorrow. We'll do it all.
( in a slow, quiet mutter--he sounds more amused than disgusted with the idea. )
Might as well, anyway. Don't argue with me and shut your mouth. Sleep.
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Date: 8/1/24 15:04 (UTC)[what?! does this guy seriously think he's vouching for fucking in a public taxi?! ugh, hell no! he was... gonna rent a car or something. besides, maid costumes are for girls. big difference. no matter what dabi's planning in that burned-up head of his, he's going to do his damnest during the upcoming war to make sure no one dies. does he think he'll be able to save all of them, hero and villain? no. he's not naive. but going in without a goal is foolish. besides, endeavor or todoroki will be handling dabi. this isn't his affair to meddle in, as much as he'd like to. with what tenuous trust he and the villain have between them, betraying that for the first and last time might ensure dabi never makes it to the war. it could save him... but there's no attempt to reach for the phone. he's never made plans to trap the man. does it make him a failure as a hero to stand by and watch dabi burn himself out, knowing he could have done something, anything, to prevent his tragic life from going further towards hell? ... yeah, it does. frustrating, knowing that he can't save a man so close to him. because dabi doesn't want to be saved. not by a hero. not from himself. stopping him like this would only drive him harder into his insane revenge. it has to be his family; they're the only ones who can put his fire on ice.
gazing across the man's chest, covered in his own shirt, he resigns himself to the reality he'll live with this guilt for he rest of his life. memories of dabi, a final run of kink and pleasure, escaping from the idea of hero and villain for a small moment of relief. he may not be able to save him, but if he can give this bastard at least a few moments of reprieve, it's something. who knows. the idea of another trip might distract dabi during the final war just long enough to stay his flames and provide endeavor or todoroki the chance to break though his madness. heh, what a shitty thought. and here he believed he'd grown up and left those idyllic fooleries behind.
if he could see into dabi's head right now, he'd punch him right in his damn skull. he means everything he's said to him since they started this! (except the childish death threats.) offering this retreat isn't nothing to him. he's got a lot to plan and do to make it happen without either of them getting screwed over by it. the war will come, heroes and villains will class, the winner takes all. some would call the heroes even more insane than the villains, as they'll do everything they can to save them, defeating them without wiping them off the planet, even though these bastards wouldn't give any of the heroes' lives a second thought. once the war's over, if the heroes win... he'll have to live with whatever occurred.
they all will. whether it brings joy, sorrow, relief, guilt, anger, calm, regret.
as dabi's hand chances a small grip at his waist, the blonde turns his head and rests it again the man's shoulder, leaving his arm draped across dabi's damaged body. his heart beat is still strong. his life is still there. he doesn't want to see him die. but... it's not his call.]
Don't order me around.
[it's fine. they can have this, their last fling. a final pretend on their trip to hell. a trip he has every intention of never completing. as his eyes close, he lets himself hope that dabi will likewise fail to succeed in his own mad dash. maybe in the future, they'll have more days and nights like this.]
Night.