#* a hero stands tall no matter what! / ic.

[sophrosynesworld]

Betrayal (pt.3)

Part One: You find your Pro-Hero boyfriend rummaging through your office.

The midday sun pours through large bay windows, casting warm shadows on the wooden floor. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee and baked goods mingles in the air, wrapping me in a comforting embrace. I adjust my sitting position across from Nejire, a bright smile dancing on her lips as she leans in, her azure eyes sparkling.

"I still can't believe you dated him," Nejire teases, her voice laced with playful disbelief. She takes a sip of her iced latte, her gaze never leaving mine.

I force a laugh, stirring my coffee absently. "Me either, I don't know what I was thinking." The words feel hollow, a familiar ache in my chest. I take a sip, the warmth of the coffee soothing.

Nejire rolls her eyes dramatically. "I bet even date nights turned into some kind of contest."

I manage a small smile, memories flashing before my eyes. "You have no idea." I reminisce. "Last year, we went to an amusement park and he insisted on winning every game at the arcade after a little kid laughed at him for missing the balloon. By the end of the night, I had so many stuffed animals that we could barely carry them all."

Hado bursts into laughter, her joy contagious. "Is it wrong I can't imagine him ever just relaxing or having fun?"

I try to laugh along, the sound feeling foreign in my throat. "Only on Sunday."

Nejire's expression softens, concern evident in her eyes. "Hey, are you okay? You seem… off."

I sigh, the façade crumbling. "It's just… I still love him, Hado. Despite everything, I thought we had something real… I thought he was going to marry me." My voice wavers, the words heavy with longing.

Nejire reaches across the table, giving my hand a reassuring squeeze. "I'm so sorry. I really am. I can't imagine how hard that must be for you."

Tears prick the corners of my eyes, but I blink them away. "It's just hard to let go, you know? We had so many good moments, and I can't help but think about what could have been." I pause, the weight of my next words sinking in. "I don't have anyone else, Hado. My father sacrificed everything to raise me. I can't turn my back on him."

Nejire nods. "I hear you. Love isn't something you can just switch off. You’re making the right decision, no matter who you pick."

I sigh again, feeling a mixture of relief and lingering sadness. "Thanks, Nejire."

"Anytime."

Just as I begin to speak, my phone vibrates on the table, the sudden motion startling me. I glance at the screen, my father's name flashing. My heart lifts instantly, a genuine smile spreading across my face.

"Speak of the devil." I pick up the call, anticipation bubbling in my chest. "Hi, Dad!"

"Sweetheart!" His voice booms with warmth and affection, instantly making me feel lighter. "How's my girl doing today?"

"I'm good. Just catching up with Nejire in Aichi. What's up?"

"I'm sending a car to pick you up," he states, a hint of excitement in his tone. "I have a surprise for you at the office. Think you can make it?"

"Of course!" I hear the joy in my own voice, my mind racing with possibilities.

"Great! See you soon, sweetheart. Love you."

"Love you too, Dad." I end the call and turn back to Nejire. "Looks like I have to cut this short. My dad's sending a car to pick me up."

Nejire's eyes widen with curiosity. "A surprise, huh? Sounds exciting! You have to tell me all about it later."

We talk a little longer about work and mutual friends. For a moment, I feel normal again, like I never came home that night. Would he have told me?

Just as Nejire finishes speaking, a tall figure approaches our table. I look up to see one of my dad's bodyguards, Taro. He stands a few steps away, waiting patiently for me to acknowledge him. His presence is a stark contrast to the cozy atmosphere, his formal attire and stoic expression reminding me of my reality.

"Excuse me, miss," his voice is low and rich, a touch of formality in his tone. Nejire raises an eyebrow at me after ogling him, her smile hidden behind a raised cup. "The car is ready whenever you are."

I smile at him, appreciating his professionalism. "Thank you. I'll be out in just a moment."

Turning back to Nejire, I give her a quick hug. "Looks like it's time for me to go. Thanks for everything, Nejire. Maybe our paths will cross at work sometime soon."

"It was so much fun last time," she says, returning the hug. "I hope he's your surprise," Hado winks, causing my cheeks to flush.

With one last smile, I gather my things and follow the guard out of the café. A sleek black car is waiting at the curb, its polished surface gleaming in the sunlight.

As I slide into the back seat, Taro waits patiently, then once I’m seated, he softly closes the door.

The car glides smoothly through the bustling city streets, the hum of the engine a soothing background noise. I sit back, fingers tapping lightly against the cool leather of the seat. The cityscape blurs past, tall buildings casting long shadows in the afternoon light. The faint scent of Taro's cologne mixes with the car's pristine interior, creating an oddly calming atmosphere.

I glance out the window, watching people go about their day. My mind drifts to my dad and the surprise he mentioned. He always has a way of making even the smallest gestures feel grand. A smile tugs at my lips, remembering the birthday party he threw for me 3 years ago—the night I meet Mr. and Mrs. Bakugo for the first time.

The car comes to a gentle stop in front of the skyscrapers. Their sleek, modern design looms over the surrounding buildings, a testament to success. Taro steps out first, moving with practiced efficiency as he opens my door. He extends his hand, his expression still.

"Miss," he says, his voice as steady as ever.

I take his hand, a shiver running down my spine at the surprising cold temperature. "Thanks, Taro." His grip is firm yet gentle, helping me rise from the car with ease.

We head into the lobby, and through security with ease. Before stepping into the elevator, the doors closing with a soft whoosh. The ride up is silent, except for the gentle hum of hold music. Taro stands beside me, his eyes forward. I steal a glance at him, wondering what goes on in his mind during this job.

The elevator dings softly as we reach our floor. The doors slide open, revealing a spacious lobby lined with modern art. Taro gestures for me to lead the way, and I do so, my heels clicking softly against the polished floor.

The receptionist quickly picks up her phone announcing my presence to him as I pass. Taro steps forward, opening the office door allowing me to step inside.

My dad's office is as grand as ever, a blend of luxury and power. The walls are adorned with articles and photographs, each telling a story of his success. He stands by the window, hands clasped behind his back, looking out over the city.

"Papa," I call softly, stepping further inside. The faint scent of cologne mingles with the rich aroma of leather and wood.

He turns, a broad smile lighting up his face. "Sweetheart," he says warmly, opening his arms. I move into his embrace, feeling the familiar strength and reassurance in his hug.

"It's good to see you," I say, pulling back to look at him. "You mentioned a surprise?"

He chuckles. "You’re quick with it. Come, sit." Dad gestures to the chair opposite to his desk. As I settle, I notice the subtle signs of wear on his eyes.

"You've done a lot of work for our company, and I wanted to show you how much I appreciate your sacrifices."

"You didn't have to, Dad. You paid for my law school, I can read over files every once and awhile."

"Nonsense," he says, waving away my words. "You deserve the world, my dear." Papa reaches into a drawer, pulling out a sleek black box. He hands it to me, his eyes glinting with something I can't quite place.

I open the box, revealing a stunning necklace, the gems catching the light in a dazzling display. "Oh, Dad, it's beautiful," I breathe, touched by the gesture.

He smiles, but there's something in his eyes—something fleeting. "Only the best for my girl."

I reach out, giving his hand a squeeze. " thank you. It’s breathtaking."

"Anything for you," he says, his voice smooth and reassuring. "Now, tell me all about your day."

As I recount my time at the café with Nejire, he listens intently, his expression a blend of warmth and pride. But then he shifts in his seat, his tone becoming casual—too casual.

"So, how's Katsuki doing?" he questions, his tone playful.

My heart skips a beat, and I force a neutral expression. "We broke up," I reply, trying to keep my tone steady. "It just didn't work out."

He raises an eyebrow, surprised. "Really? What happened?"

I hesitate, feeling a strange tension in the air. "We just grew apart. Our priorities were different."

He nods slowly, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "Well, sometimes these things happen for a reason. You deserve someone who truly appreciates you."

Something about his reaction feels off, but I can't put my finger on it. "Yeah, I guess so."

He leans back, eyes never leaving mine. "Did he give you any trouble? You know I can handle it if he did."

"No, Dad. It was mutual. We're both adults."

"Of course, of course," he says smoothly, but there's an edge to his voice. "Just looking out for you."

I force a smile, but the nagging feeling in the back of my mind won't go away. "You always do."

"Now, let's focus on the positive. How about dinner tonight?"

"Sure," I agree, my mind is still spinning. Am I overanalyzing or is this… weird.

Part 4:

[homelanderbutbig]

My Hero (G/T Homelander x Reader)

1082 words. Pure fluff. Homelander is 8 feet tall. Reader is non-descriptive. Established relationship.

The first time you went to Homelander's cabin.

This is the first time Homelander's invited you to spend the night at his cabin. You know that him even asking you to come with him is something special as his cabin is the place he goes to get away from the rest of society. It was a pretty sudden question too, as he asked you the second you entered his penthouse after your evening shift. In fact, he didn't even give you time to pack your pajamas as he was already scooping you up into his arms to fly off the balcony.

A few minutes later he touches down hard in the middle of a dense forest, causing leaves to float up all around him from the force of his impact. As you begin to regain your bearings, you try and grasp where exactly you landed. The area is pitch black, with the foliage blocking out the moonlight from above. The only sounds you can hear are a few crickets chirping in the distance, and the crunching of leaves under Homelander's feet while he walks. You're still held tight in his arms, so close to his chest that you barely even see the outdoor lights illuminating his secluded hideaway's exterior.

The cabin itself is dimly lit, with a chandelier being the only source of light inside. It's a challenge to make out any of the interior decorations, though it's impossible to ignore the sheer size of the furniture. Similarly to his penthouse, everything in the cabin had to be built oversized, larger than life, just for the supe who towers over everyone.

When he finally releases you to the ground, he stands silently in place waiting for you to break the ice. Entertaining company is not a type of situation where he has much experience, and he's already fairly stressed from his exhausting day being paraded around by Vought. He wants you to tell him what to do, or at least what you want to do.

You decide to start exploring the cabin's main floor, sauntering over to the massive couch where you expect to spend the majority of the evening. Directly in front of the couch is a fireplace, and you discover that it's already been prepped for a roaring fire with a hefty stack of logs. There is also a matchbox on the hearth, perhaps left behind by someone else. Picking up the box reveals that there are still a few matches inside, so you take one out and attempt to strike it. You aren't having much success, but you aren't giving up quite yet.

Wordlessly watching from the entrance, Homelander sees you struggle with your task. The more you keep failing, the more he can feel his own frustration growing. You're spending so much time on this activity that you've assigned to yourself; you aren't even paying attention to him. With a deep exhale and a roll of his eyes, he storms over and kneels down beside you. Before you can utter a sentence, he uses his laser vision to quickly set the the logs on fire.

As his lasers dissipate, he notices that you are frozen in place, hands halfway through another attempt at lighting the match. He feels a wave of anxiety constricting throughout his chest, and angles his head away from you. Did he go too far with his powers? He's scared you, he knows it. His abilities frighten everyone around him, even when he's restraining himself. If his powers are too much for other supes to handle, how could he have expected that you would be any different?

Suddenly, he feels your gentle touch caressing the side of his face, shaking him out of his compounding thoughts. When he looks back at you, there isn't even the slightest hint of fear anywhere on your face. As a matter of fact, you look… appreciative.

"Thank you for helping me Homelander," you compliment, your voice so easily soothing the self-inflicted scorches to his ego. "But…" you trail off, your words taking him hostage. But what? Did he do something wrong? Did he not do it to your satisfaction?

"But… you missed one sweetie," you remark, pointing to the one stray log in the corner of the fireplace, the only one not sporting a flame.

Oh.

He huffs a short laugh at that response, letting go of the breath he didn't even realize he was still holding. You see him start to smile from your sneaky little bait-and-switch reply as the uneasiness drains from his body. You're pretty sure that is the first time he's had a genuine smile on his face all day. Even if nobody else can tell his real smile from his 'in-public fake celebrity smile', you take solace in knowing you get to keep this secret all to yourself.

With the utmost precision, Homelander uses his laser vision to ignite the one log. He then turns back to you, waiting with a shy smirk for you to continue your praise.

"My hero," you giggle, readjusting yourself to your knees so you can give him a proper kiss. It really doesn't take much for you to have him wrapped around your finger, just a simple kiss and your hands on his cheeks. But those small acts speak a thousand words to a man who was neglected of that love his whole life. You hear him practically purring into your lips with each stroke of your fingers as he becomes enraptured by your affections. He's leaning closer and closer towards you until he finally just picks you up to place you on his expansive thighs. His hands are formed perfectly to your hips as you feel his big fingers rubbing along your back, a small gesture to return your own caresses.

Breaking from your kiss, you get the chance to look into his eyes, shining as radiant blue windows into his soul. He may have entered the cabin as a frazzled mess, but right now he completely relaxed. He is a mountain of a man that is putty in your hands.

"Hey, why don't we cuddle on the couch?" you say softly, nuzzling your forehead into his. "We'll have the perfect view of the fire."

Homelander nods as he hums happily at your request, knowing full well that your cuddle session also means he gets to have some head scratches too. A perfect ending to the evening, one that he hopes he gets to have again… the next time he invites you to the cabin.

[madlyney]

Spiderwho?!–Prologue

Spiderwho?! mlist

“Imagine getting your ass beaten by some dumb aluminium,” Spiderman–nicknamed Phantom taunted as he helped you stand from the ground.

You scoffed. “That's not nice, I acted as bait and helped you stalled it while you took your sweet time to arrive!” You leaned against the wall in the alleyway, where both of you hid in after the hectic battle. 

“Maybe if you had shown up earlier, this would’ve been over quicker.” He shrugged, and you could tell that he was smugly smiling under that denim-coloured mask of his.

Despite the close bond the both of you have formed during the past year as the heroes of Tokyo, you never knew his true identity behind his mask—and neither did he of you. You’ve had your suspicions on who Phantom’s true identity was, but Tokyo was a big city after all. He could’ve been anyone–maybe even a middle-aged man(spoiler alert: he’s not, whew)! Though, your biggest suspicion was someone particular you had in mind from college. But, it’s not likely… right?

Phantom checked the time on his watch(what kind of idiot puts on a watch in the outfit they battle in?).

“Crap, I gotta go,” he said. He looks down at the injuries on your arm, especially the deep cut you’ve received from the stupid mecha. “Will you be alright?”

You nodded, tugging onto the hem of your mask, it was slightly stuffy despite the airy material. Perhaps it’s the alleyway. “I’ll be fine. You go ahead first,” you said as you gently bumped your fist against his chest. “I’ll see you when I see you, Phantom.”

He nodded reluctantly. “Same goes for you, Webs.” The simple, yet friendly nickname he gave you sent tingles down your spine. You liked it.

—

“Megumi! You’re late to practice, again!” Yuuji dramatically whined. “That’s the third time this week.”

The electric guitarist rolled his eyes as he shuffled into the studio, carrying his gig bag. “Got caught up with something, not my fault,” Megumi replied dryly.

Toge scoffed and crossed his arms(like an immature child). “What’s your excuse this time? Wait, don't tell me!” He shut his eyes, hands on his hips as he let out a hum, as if deep in thought. “Aha! You got caught up hooking up with some gi–”

“Megumi got held up in traffic because of some mecha downtown,” Yuta interrupts, not wanting to deal with another dispute between the two. “He texted me earlier.” 

Megumi nodded in confirmation.

As Toge and Yuuji continued to scowl at their beloved guitarist, a tall man entered the studio. “It’s nearly half past four, and you guys have hardly touched your instruments!” The man named Satoru clapped his hands, narrowing his eyes but a smirk tugged on his lips slightly, contradicting his act of immaturity. “C’mon, kids, you guys will be performing next week! We can't let people think that Satoru Gojo, manager of the popular band White Noise, does a bad job! It will ruin my image for sure!” He exclaimed, brushing off the unamused and disbelief looks from the band members

“Get out.”

Behind the scenes...

-Phantom and Webs, the Spiderduo of Tokyo!

-I gave them nicknames cus i cant be bothered to let them call each other spiderman or spiderwoman…

-satoru isnt the dad of WN, he’s the toddler. WN is practically his babysitter.

-despite satoru’s immaturity, he can be VERY serious about certain matters(duh)

-Megumi tries to avoid going out in public with Toge because it’s kinda embarrassing, according to him.

-“He once dropped his ice cream on the table from laughing too hard, and the ice cream slid from across the table and towards Yuta. Next thing we know, Toge’s soft-serve ice cream was on Yuta’s pants…” Megumi said.

Taglist: @qtnfer @greenday-bingus @walllflowerrrsss @saltypuffin1040 @starrysho @nothegemstone @1l-ynn @applepi25 @q2uq2u @mbekgsv @reblogwhoreowo @dilucsleftshoelace

[xoxobuckybarnes]

February 2024 Stucky Fics

Completed

Keystrokes and Music Notes (Rated: M, Words: 32K) by goblininawig / @goblininawig

Summary: Bucky is paying Steve for help tracking down his stalker. Nothing happens until something happens: Steve falls in love.

Mr. Brick Wall & Mr. Overshare (Rated: T, Words: 7K) by LilyElk13

Summary: Based on the Tumblr post that's like "half of college professors are like 'you can know nothing about me except my name' and the other half are like 'and that's why my wife left me! anyway what's up with y'all'" and the response "There were two professors like this in my department and I was one of like 20 people who was taught by both of them so there was a very small gang of us who knew that Professor Brick Wall and Professor Overshare were married with two kids." except in this it's high school teachers instead of college :)

A Company Man (Rated: E, Words: 75K) by mambo / @whtaft

Summary: It’s the way that Bucky smiles at Steve from across his desk. No, it’s the way that Bucky’s hand brushes Steve’s as they stand side by side in an elevator not crowded enough to justify their closeness. Or maybe it’s the whispered conversations every Saturday night, the way Bucky saves Steve’s number under a different name in his phone. No matter what it is, the truth is the same: Steve Rogers is in love with Bucky Barnes, a married man.

Rock You Like a Hurricane (Rated: E, Words: 112K) by CelticCross

Summary: Bucky Barnes is an author, he's written many books in his Winter Soldier series, starring Lloyd Hansen and Nick Fowler. He hasn't written a word worth writing in the past three months and his agent, Sam Wilson, forces him to take a break. Sam books him a rental beach house in a place called Plum Cove in Mass for three months, hoping to break him out of his writer's block. The owner, Steve Rogers, retired Plum Cove Police Captain, landlord and part time surfer is surprised to get such a lengthy off season booking but takes it anyway. He doesn't expect to spend a lot of time with the person renting his house, but then he wasn't expecting the storm to be that fierce.

Closing Time (Rated: M, Words: 10K) by RecoveringTheSatellites / @thisonesatellite & art by maichan /@maichan808

Summary: Steve works in a Brooklyn dive bar. A tall, guarded guy comes in to drink at regular intervals. He always sits in the back corner. Steve leaves him alone. He looks like a guy who deserves some peace and quiet. He does find out the stranger's name is Bucky. Finds out what he likes to drink. And little by little, conversation happens. Connection happens. Until one day a cock-flock of dudebros comes in (i made up cock-flock, but really, is that not their collective term) and the heckling goes up to eleven once they’re good and drunk. Bucky gets asked to take it outside. Steve will have none of that, thankyouverymuch. . A tale of love and hope in unlikely places, sprinkled with a bit of PTSD, and the occasional sarcastic quip.

Use Your Agency (Rated: E, Words: 15K) by romanticalgirl

Summary: Bucky is given the assignment (punishment) of being the agent whose job it is to integrate the newly-thawed Captain America into life in a new century. Only maybe it's not so bad. Because Bucky ends up dealing with Steve Rogers, who is nothing like the Captain America in Bucky's history books. From coming out of the ice through AoU.

Stay with Me (Rated: E, Words: 79K) by maikurosaki / @allegra-dreams

Summary: When Bucky Barnes accompanies his family to a ceremony dedicated to George Barnes' activity, he expects free food and drinks, the occasional boring speech, and watching his dad blush furiously as he gets to finally meet his childhood hero. What he doesn't expect is saving Captain America's life and getting shot in the process. What follows is a slow road to recovery, eating hospital food (still disgusting), making new friends (Avengers!!! Seriously, the Avengers!) and pining over Captain America (he won't comment on that). It sounds simple, but it really isn’t!

The Steadfast Soldier (Rated: E, Words: 12K) by danielosbourne

Summary: Bucky returns to Brooklyn to help his sister navigate a family crisis.

twelve twenty-five (Rated: E, Words: 43K) by burning_brighter / @burnin-brighter

Summary: “I have to say,” Winifred says, a mug of cocoa in her hands. “When you say you were bringing someone home, I thought you meant you were bringing a boyfriend. But I’m glad you brought Steve.” “Who says I’m not?” Bucky teases, laughing when Steve lets out an exasperated groan. “You two finally got your respective head out of your respective ass?” asks George, looking at Steve and Bucky intently. “No,” Steve says pointedly, “Bucky just thinks he’s so funny.” - Ever since they met, everyone assumed it was just a matter of time before Steve and Bucky became a thing. Ten years later and it has yet to happen. But when Bucky invites Steve to spend the holidays with him and his family in upstate New York, things start to change.

WIP

Every Me and Every You (Rated: M, Current Words: 38K) by deadto27 / @deadto27

Summary: Bucky Barnes is doing his best. He’s getting by after the blip, after Sam became Captain America, after Steve…well, it’s best he doesn’t think about that. The point is, his life is different now, and he’s trying his best. He just wishes the hollow feeling in his chest would go away.—–Bucky gets blinded by a bright light as the tear seems to implode in on itself and there’s an odd little jolt as the pulling stops, and then Bucky’s blinking, trying to get his vision right again as he loosens his grip on America.“You okay?” he checks, still squinting. He’s probably not blind, he thinks. It just feels like it right now.“I’m okay,” America tells him and he sees her nod shakily as his vision starts to clear, and he carefully lets go of her, seeing that she can support herself, hands pressing onto the floor next to her.“Uh…I don’t think I am,” says another voice, and Bucky turns his head so fast he might give himself whiplash. Because he knows that voice. He knows that voice better than any other voice on the planet and he’s missed that voice, so, so much.

Lost Vocabularies that Might Express (The Memory of These Broken Impressions) (Rated: E, Current Words: 103K) by dorian_burberrycanary / @burberrycanary

Summary: The worst of times, like the best, are always passing away. How’s that for some consolation on the road? A post-The Falcon and The Winter Soldier Stucky fix-it as part of the all-American road trip, detours included.

[phoxey]

The White Raven (Bada Lee Gang AU)

Bada Lee x fem!reader

CW: violence, angst if you really really squint, mentions of blood

Chapter 2

Chapter 1 - Have you ever killed someone, Bada?

You were tired. It was three in the morning and it was your fourth night shift this week. You worked three jobs. During the day you tutored kids in English, in the evening you worked for a food delivery service and in the night, you worked in a 24/7 convenience store, so you only ever slept from seven to noon, each day. And you were happy if you had one day off in a month. You worked so much because your little brother needed the money for the private school he was going to, which your mom could barely afford. Your brother had all the potential to get your family out of poverty, so you supported him where you could so he could focus on his school.

You were texting with him when a few girls your age came into the store. You knew them, they were rowdies from around here. They came in laughing and talking loudly. You heard the first glass bottle smash onto the ground followed by more laughter. They came after a while to pay for the beer they wanted.

“Sorry, darling, one of the bottles fell to the ground back there.”, the tall girl said and smirked at you. It wasn’t an apologetic smile; it wasn’t even remotely friendly. It was more of a smile like a tigress who was about to eat you alive if you dared to move. Your heart was beating so fast, you didn’t want any trouble.

“It’s okay, it’s okay. Don’t worry. I will clean that up.”, you said timidly as she was towering over you.

She just nodded and she and her group left. The last time they have also broken some things and you were sure that they even stole some stuff.

You quickly got a mop and a trashcan to clean the floor in the beer aisle. That aisle was directly in front of the entrance so you could see outside. The group was laughing and drinking outside when another group of older men approached them, they seemed to be angry and the group dropped their beers and started to run. But the tall girl from earlier didn’t react fast enough, the men caught her by her jacket and pushed her to the ground, they started to kick and beat her. One even had a baseball bat.

You don’t know what came over you but as if you were in a fury trance, you stepped outside. Mid-air you grabbed the other end of the baseball bat and pulled strongly once, so it slipped out of the hands of the man, who turned around confused. He wasn’t even fully facing you when the baseball bat hit his jaw and he fell back.

“Homerun.”, you said and stared at the other guys. “I will kill you if you touch him again.” They saw the creepy look in your eyes and grabbed their friend to run off.

You let the baseball bat fall and knelt to the girl who was whining in pain.

“Are you okay? Can you talk? Wait… I will call an ambulance.”, you said and wanted to stand up to go inside to your phone, but she grabbed your wrist.

“Don’t. No ambulance. No police.”, she winced.

“You need medical treatment!”, You said shocked.

“You treat me then.”, she hissed sternly, holding her ribs.

Somehow you brought her inside and sat her down on the couch in the break room. You brought multiple ice packs and gave them to her to hold them to her ribs. She winced again when you cleaned a wound on her lip with a disinfectant. She stared at you as she worked on her wounds. After a moment you met her eyes and blushed at her intense stare.

“You were badass, out there.”, she whispered. “What’s your name?”

“Y/N.”, You answered simply.

“I’m Bada.”, she said smiling. “You were like an action movie hero. What did you say to him? ‘Homerun.’?”

You chuckled flustered. “I don’t know what came over me…”

“You saved me.”, Bada stated matter-of-factly.

“What did I save you from, Bada?”, You asked.

“A rivaling gang. They think this is their territory, but they lost this area quite a while ago to us.”, she shrugged.

“You are a gang? I thought you were just rowdies!”, You were shocked.

“Rowdies? No. We are not just rowdies. But I won’t bore you with details.”, Bada said suddenly, she must have realized that she had said too much already. She stood up, still wincing and hissing in pain, but she was determined that she didn’t need her care anymore.

She went to the little desk, grabbed a piece of paper, and wrote something down. Then she turned and gave you the paper. “If there is something I can do to express my gratitude, don’t hesitate to call me.”, she said.

“Actually, there is something you can do. My life is stressful enough, so… if you couldn’t come here again with your friends, it would be much appreciated.”, you said sternly.

She looked at you for a moment then she turned around and walked out, yet you could hear Bada's chuckle linger in the room longer than you expected.

For a few weeks, you didn’t see her again. You had almost forgotten about her when suddenly someone leaned on your head with her elbow, as you were mopping the floor one evening.

“Hey!”

Bada just laughed at you and you rolled your eyes. “I thought I said that I don’t want you to come here again.”, you huffed as you walked away.

She followed you, grinning. “I know, I really tried to stay away. Then I remembered that technically you only said that I shouldn’t come here with my friends anymore. And look, it’s just me.”

“Wonderful. Grab a beer, pay for it, and then go on with your night, okay?”, you said. Your eyes shot to the entrance; you almost expected those men from last time to enter seeking for revenge.

Bada followed your gaze and realized something. “You’re safe. They won’t come. I made sure of that.”

A shiver ran down your spine when she said the last sentence. But you decided to be cocky, something about Bada emboldened you. “What do you mean, you made sure of that? I made sure of that. I broke that one guy's jaw.”

Bada laughed at that when she grabbed a beer. Then she threw money on the counter before opening the can.

“That much is true. I must admit, I was very impressed.”, she said. “Did you once play baseball?”

You briefly thought of the real reason, but quickly shook her head, blinked away tears, and put on a smile. “Yes. Yes, I played baseball in high school.”

Bada tilted her head like a curious puppy, certainly not buying that. “Ah. What position did you play?”

You knew nothing about baseball. “Pitcher.”

Bada frowned. Shit, wrong answer, you thought. “I don’t believe you.”, she concluded.

“You’d be scared of me if you knew.”, You said.

“I’m scared of nothing.”, Bada said and sat on the counter with her beer, when You put Bada’s money into the cash register.

Then it was Bada's turn to have a shiver go down her spine when she saw your eyes next. They were suddenly very empty and almost pitch black. “Have you ever killed someone, Bada?”

Continue reading: Chapter 2

[thunderblessedhero-old]

(( Warning for possibly upsetting content. Themes of violence and major character death are present in this. ))

———

[Attached: A live video feed. Gizmo is following Hugh, August, and their Lucario “Fenrir” from behind as they rush through an ice-covered Opelucid City, carefully navigating over the frozen over roads and sidewalks as quickly as can. You can see evacuating crowds rushing and slipping past them as the young trainers bolt into the fray, their panicked shouts and screams echoing through the audio.

“Those Plasma assholes-” Hugh curses under his breath, panting a bit as he runs. “I never expected them to go this far…” He motions back at his friend, urging them to keep up. “Come on, we get the DNA Splicers back from those ninja guys! We aren’t letting them get away with this!”

“Right!” August shouts back, continuing to trail behind their friend. They look to the Lucario running beside them and nods, initiating a wordless communication between them and the Pokémon. He seems to understand right away, returning the gesture affirmatively.

Fenrir then turns on his heel and veers off to the side, before bouncing up a tower of jagged ice with ease. He reaches the top in a matter of seconds, and his eyes begin to scan the chaos raging around him from his vantage point- as he does, you catch a glimpse of the massive, levitating frigate looming threateningly in the skies over the city.

August and Hugh swerve to follow after him, but they stop at the sound of loud beeping noises coming from the phone behind them. They both simultaneously turn to look to the camera, raising a brow at the Rotom phone as it begins to shake and twitch.

“Gizmo? What wrong?” August asks, extending a hand out to the little Electric-type in concern.

“ZZz-zzzZZT-zzzt— zzt-” Gizmo’s inexplicable buzzing gets louder, before the screen fades to static, intercepting the feed. It stays that way for a few seconds longer… before the scene abruptly changes.

There’s an older man with white hair and a tall cap, standing in front of an iron wall. He wears a massive purple cloak that looks like it was designed to withstand harsh low temperatures, with a blatant Team Plasma logo plastered on the front.

“Greetings, people of Unova.” The man addresses the audience in a dark tone, one that would spur unease within you. “My name is Zinzolin- a sage representing Team Plasma and my lord, Ghetsis.”

He continues, speaking to the camera with a blank, firm expression. “I’m sure you’re all wondering why this broadcast has suddenly reached your device- or perhaps you’re more focused crisis currently unfolding in Opelucid City. Either way, I’m here today to issue out a warning to all of Unova- so listen to my words, and listen to them well.”

“We may be taking our leave now, but know this- the attack on Opelucid was only the beginning,” he warns. “Soon enough, all the region will be shrouded in ice, and Lord Ghetsis will then take his rightful place as Unova’s ruler! Soon enough, when his plan falls into place, you will have no choice but to yield to him!”

“And before you think your little hero of truth is going to come to your rescue once more, like they did two years ago during our previous attempt to seize power…” Zinzolin smirks menacingly as he holds up what appears to be a remote control. “I regret to inform you that Reshiram and its trainer will not be coming to your aid this time. Nor will Zekrom- she and her hero abandoned you all a long time ago.”

“Don’t believe me?” He snickers. “See for yourself. In case my speech wasn’t enough to sway you, our generous leader has gone ahead and provided a little… presentation of sorts, to remind you we are not to be trifled with.”

He presses down on the controller, and in the blink of an eye, the screen switches again. Now, a pitch dark room is shown- you can just barely see the line where the floor and wall meet. Everything is deadly silent for a moment longer, before you begin to hear what sounds like shouts and metal clanging in the background, growing closer…

A door offscreen opens up, filling the room with light for the briefest of moments- just long enough for you to see a figure get harshly thrown into the dank holding cell, before the door is promptly slammed back shut. Your blood runs cold when you’re met with a face likely many Unovans know- the hero of Reshiram… their hands are tied behind their back, and a piece of black tape is pasted firmly over their mouth.

Blake’s hat tumbles off their head as their back slams against the cold wall, a muffled cry erupting from their throat before they slide pitifully onto the ground. They’re alive, but they writhe around and recoil like they’re in excruciating pain… You don’t want to imagine what they must’ve gone through before all of this. Or whatever they’re about to endure.

“Let this be a lesson to all who dares try and oppose the might of Team Plasma,” Zinzolin’s voice can be heard booming from a nearby speaker. “Watch as the very trainer who once saved your pathetic lives is reduced to nothing but ashes, and know that you will all suffer the same fate if you try to revolt!”

A red flash fills the room, and once it fades away you hear a haunting, reverberating growl… Trembling, Blake tilts their head up, pure dread overcoming their expression as they meet the face of whatever’s about to be their end. You see the shadow of a Hydreigon looming on the wall behind them, slowly growing as the beast closes in on its prey…

Blake begins crying out desperately, helplessly flailing and kicking against their restraints, like a beetle turned over on its shell. Although their legs are untied, they seem unable to manage standing, incapable of running away as the creature prowls closer.

In the last few seconds of the video, you see the white glow of a charging Hyper Beam illuminate the room. And all that Blake can do is stare into the light, eyes bulged with horror. You catch a tear pricking through the corner of their eye right before the attack is unleashed.

A blinding, white hot light swallows the camera. You can barely hear Blake scream out one last time before it’s drowned out by a deafening explosion.

…The video feed cuts out. You didn’t get to see the aftermath, but… it’s not hard to guess what happened next.]

———

[creadigol]

*Warning: This snippet contains thoughts of unhappiness about ones body. Please be safe my darlings! Love y’all!

Hey all! Here’s a little snippet I thought of today! Hope y’all enjoy!

New Hero had many things going for them in the field.

Their skills were unparalleled and many agencies had rallied to get New Hero on their payroll and in their city. They were unmatched in strength, their intelligence was superior to most (except maybe Hero themselves), they had a kind heart and a pure soul, and overall they were an all around great hero.

If only it wasn’t for their looks.

New Hero was ugly, like unbelievably ugly. The hunchback of Notre Dame was more of a biography for New Hero than a fiction novel.Their back was hunched, their eyes uneven, and their arms an unusually large size. It made them intimidating, it made them unapproachable…it made them scary.

Children would run after just one look, mothers would frown in disapproval, and men would look one step away from reverting back to the pitchfork and tar days. New Hero didn’t mind that so much, after all they had dwelt with that their entire lives; what really hurt though, what truly cut deep, was when their own team would have the same reactions.

New Hero had hoped, expected really, for other heroes to accept them for who they were and their skills, seeing past the looks and onto what really mattered.

No such luck.

New Hero dipped their head as they walked through the agency’s hallway. After every turn and every doorway they heard the gossip being spoken about them.

God, have you ever seen anything like it?

I can’t look, not if I want to eat lunch today.

Those eyes! It’s like they see everything yet nothing…it’s creepy.

A monster.

Maybe we should warn Hero…I mean we can’t have someone like that seen with our Hero…

God, they didn’t even try to say them under their breath anymore. At least when New Hero first started the others had the courtesy to say those awful things after work or behind closed doors.

Not to mention the last comment, spoken by Other Hero while standing in the control room…Hero, the great and perfect Hero, was coming back from a long mission today. Hero had been gone the entire time New Hero had been there and the two had never met, but New Hero had heard enough to know what to expect.

Hero was, for all intents and purposes, perfect.

Hero was everything a hero dreamed of being and more. They were lithe, strong, kind, brilliant, confident, a born leader, and…and…simply beautiful. Hero was aesthetically pleasing in every way. Strong, but not too bulky. Tall, but not too towering. Eyes bright, but not too intrusive. Skin flawless, but not in an artificial way. Hero was the perfect poster-person for the agency…Hell, for any agency. Not only were they charismatic and handsome on screen, but their work as a hero was unparalleled. They got the hardest assignments and gave back the best results. New Hero knew that pretty much every agency in the world was vying to get Hero in their city, even though Hero had pledged to be in theirs.

Hero really was perfect.

And they were coming back today…to the agency…after months of undercover…and they were going to see New Hero…the exact opposite of Hero.

Shit, New Hero wasn’t looking forward to this. They could handle the mockery and slander from the rest of the agency, but if Hero…THE HERO…agreed with them…well that would just prove it, wouldn’t it? New Hero was a monster.

“Hey freak!”

New Hero closed their eyes in resignation.

“Freak! Yeah you! I have something for you.” New Hero turned and saw three lower level heroes standing behind them.

“Yes?” New Hero asked, ice in their voice.

The Low Hero who was in front spoke, “SuperHero has a new assignment for you. Said we need to bring you to the training room for the debrief.”

New Hero furrowed their brows, “Why the training room? Why not the war-room?”

The other two heroes scoffed.

“Because the systems are down in there! God, don’t you know anything or do those eyes and clay ears only pick up the occasional piece of information?”

“I…I knew that! I just forgot is all,” New Hero countered. Well, that was a lie. In truth New Hero had no idea about the systems being down, but they had been out on patrol all morning and the systems were always on the fritz.

God, just because they looked like a nightmare didn’t mean they were stupid.

The three led them down the stairs to the underground training room. Well, room was an understatement. It was more like a vast cavern the size of several football fields.

New Hero looked around for SuperHero, but couldn’t see them. Actually they couldn’t see anyone. Only the emergency lights were on in the room, casting long shadows and filling the corners with darkness. If SuperHero was here, then they must have been standing in one of the shadows, but New Hero doubted it.

Dammit, they really wouldn’t go this far would they?

The door closed behind them.

They would.

“You can’t really think we would let you be seen during Hero’s homecoming,” Came a voice from the other side of the reinforced door. “The News will be there. We want Hero smiling and looking confident, not like they’re holding back disgust. Just stay down here until it’s done.”

New Hero heard them walk away from the door. They tried to open it, but of course it was locked. Not only locked, but designed to hold back even SuperHero powers during training. There was no way out. They would have to wait it out.

The emergency lights cut off.

Oh…oh that changes things. New Hero disliked the dark, it was mysterious and who knows what was hiding in it, but they absolutely could not handle pitch darkness.

The training room was underground, no windows or they couldn’t contain heroes’ powers when practicing.

No, no, no! They really couldn’t handle this! So many memories of complete darkness…so many terrors lurking within…all to hide their face!

New Hero felt their control slipping, their fear taking over…and next thing they knew they were pounding ruthlessly on the door with all their immense strength. Screaming obscenities, begging for light, freedom…anything to escape.

They stayed in that state for what felt like hours. Nothing but fear, screaming, hitting, and darkness. All consuming darkness. They felt their mind falling into it.

But, then suddenly, it was broken.

A stream of warm light sliced through the darkness accompanied by the sound of the heavy door opening.

New Hero squinted in the light. They knew they must look even more terrible than usual, tears covering their blotchy face, blood all over their fists…but they didn’t care. They scurried into the light as quickly as possible.

It was then that they noticed something coming out of the light. A figure that seemed to give off light themselves. Surrounded by the warm glow a person New Hero didn’t recognize at first, stood tall in the doorway.

“New Hero?” Came a soft voice came from the brightness. “It’s alright. Everything’s alright.” It was a nice voice, the kind that instantly calmed and disarmed. Melodic.

The figure crouched down to New Hero’s level. A hand came up, holding a pure white handkerchief. It was slowly wiped across New Hero’s dirty, tear covered face.

“I’m sorry,” the voice continued. “I didn’t know…I’m sorry.”

The handkerchief was put down once New Hero’s tears were dried and soft hands clasped theirs and brought up their bloody knuckles.

“Oh my,” the voice said. “How scared you must have been.”

Then, slowly, non intrusively, arms were wrapped around them. The warm embrace was something New Hero was not expecting, yet they melted into it instantly. There was something welcoming about these arms. Something which just radiated unconditional caring.

“Let me know when you’re ready and we can go upstairs.”

New Hero stayed in the arms for longer than what social convention would strictly allow, but after a few minutes they pulled back. Now that their senses were back to normal, they wondered who in the world was with them. Everyone at the agency flinched back when New Hero approached. Some even sanitized the keypad after New Hero typed in their pin…no one would willingly touch them, let alone hold them like this.

They leaned back and looked into the strangers eyes.

Hero’s eyes

Oh god it was Hero! The Hero! The beautiful, perfect Hero. Still in their uniform, though their gloves and mask had been removed. They had a look on their face which didn’t suit their good looks. They looked kind, yet angry, with a touch of sadness in the corner of their eyes.

“You want to go up now? I’d understand if you wanted to wait,” Hero said. They must have been confused at New Hero’s staring because then they said, “Are you okay? Do you need anything? I have a weighted blanket and water in my room…would that help? That usually helps me…maybe something hot? Or perhaps food…”

“Why are you here?” New Hero interrupted.

“What?” Hero leaned back more, though kept their hands on New Hero’s elbows.

“Why are you here? Talking to me? Letting me out?”

Hero scrunched their eyebrows together, “Why wouldn’t I be?”

New Hero looked down, “It’s not good for you to be seen with me…you have an image to maintain.”

“Nonsense.” New Hero looked up at Hero’s tone. “Can’t be seen? I have an image? Is that what they told you?”

New Hero nodded.

“New Hero, I’ve read your file. I read all the files of those who come to this agency…and I have never seen one as exemplary, as caring…” Hero took a breath, “New Hero, I don’t care what the other’s have told you or what they said about me… I would be honored to have someone like you seen with me. You’re a fantastic hero.”

New Hero felt their tears come anew. Only this time it wasn’t in fear.

“You think you’re ready to go upstairs? Your face isn’t as red anymore.”

New Hero nodded and Hero helped them up.

“Sorry about that,” New Hero said when they saw the dirty hanky on the ground.

Hero shrugged, “Don’t worry about it. It’s only cloth. And I get it. You would not believe how I get in enclosed spaces…not so pretty.”

New Hero smiled at that. They never thought Hero would be so personable. It was nice, it made them seem human.

As they walked up the stairs, Hero commenting here and there about stuff in New Hero’s file or what their mission was like, New Hero felt a sense of kinship they had never experienced before.

Let’s just say, if anyone ever tried to put Hero in an enclosed space, they would answer to New Hero.

[druidx]

Her Countenance was Light - Chapter 44

CW: Major character death, Fire AO3 ; Chapters: 01. 10. 20. 30. 40. 41. 42. 43 Tag list (ask for +/-): @aquadestinyswriting, @hannah-heartstrings, @jacqueswriteblrlibrary, @babyblueetbaemonster @mr-orion

The fish-processing yard has seen better days. Nature pushes up through cracks in the concrete. Litter collects in corners. Barrels and other unidentified items rust away in a haphazard sprawl. Crumbling walls, rebar protruding like teeth, are decorated with graffiti. Elo blinks. Some of those rocks in the shadow of the building are not rocks. Just as, when she follows the Eshen girl's path to where the sun's last rays collect on the other side of the yard, what first seems a tumble of logs are not logs. And standing tall, on the darker edge of the divide between the sun and the shadow, is a man. From behind her, Theodarsson exclaims, "Exchequer Brauma!"

Elo wishes she felt surprised; instead there's only exhaustion. It's now clear that yesterday's stunt was Bruama's last attempt at getting rid of her with his hands still clean. He's now going back to the more traditional method. With a breath, Elo sets her shoulders.

"He does not belong here," Brauma says, looking past her at Theodarsson. Elo nods, then over her shoulder calls, "Agent Theodarsson, go get backup." "But, milady–" "This is a city matter, Agent, and places you outside your purview. I will require backup. Please go and retrieve it." "Lady Toreguarde–" "That is an order, Agent!" She can practically hear Theodarsson grinding his teeth behind her. "Yes, milady," he grinds out. There's the crunch of loose dirt on concrete. An empty feeling behind her. Running footsteps, fading into the distance. Elo hopes she hasn't made a mistake.

Automatic steps take Elo towards that log pile that is not made of logs. This is not a tournament fight, but Elo finds herself treating it as such, folding down the extraneous parts of herself that do not matter when fists and weapons fly. The elder, Aster, leans heavily on a gnarled walking stick. As Elo bows sharply from the waist, she thinks their leaves look more autumnal than ever. Eyes of acorn-brown regard her gravely. "Now is the time," Aster says, "when you must reach for your bloom and use what Aukštasvilkas has gifted." "I understand," Elo says, and she does. She's not scared of Brauma, not like she was before. Farren might have been right about Brauma being a supernatural entity – but now, so is she.

She walks back to where he paces along the line of dark and light. Stalks, more like; a cat, with metaphorical fur bristling. He appears more than willing to have this be him or her, ice or fire. But Elo knows it doesn't have to work like that. Even if the book hadn't told her, she knows there's always a middle ground. Bridges don't have to stay burned forever. She thinks back to the mission which gained her the title she carries. How it was not her fighting skills, not her detective's acumen, which won the day – but her compassion. Of facing the man who would wage war on everything she held dear and offering a hand in sympathy. Mercy, understanding, acceptance. These are what make her a hero. Maybe if she can get Brauma to talk, they can work this out.

Elo stops. Spreads her hands: I'm unarmed. Gives him a rueful smile. "D'you want to go get a cup of coffee?" Brauma stops, looks back at her like she's insane. Maybe she is. "What?" "You heard me," Elo says. "A cup of coffee. Would you like one?" "What?" Elo huffs. "This isn't a difficult concept. We ditch this party, go find a food wagon, and get a cuppa Joe each." "You think I can be as easily bought as those simpletons who used to work for me?" Brauma spits, resuming his pacing. "I'm not trying to buy you, Brauma. And I don't want to fight you, not when we don't have to." "Bah! Stupid little girl. Of course, we must fight!" "We're two halves of a whole, you know. Aukštasvilkas has gifted to you the night, the light of the moon, and he has gifted to me the sun and the light of day. We each rule over the other in equal bursts – my power waxes while your wanes currently. Once midsummer passes, I will wane while you wax. We are in concert, keeping each other in check naturally. So why fight?" He rounds on her, roaring, "Because you were not satisfied with your lot! Always poking your nose into the night, stealing its creatures into the day. You have disrupted the balance and I will not stand for it anymore!" Elo forces herself to hold her ground. "I've been aware of this part of myself for a mere nine days. You can't blame–" "Nine days! Ha!" He throws his head back as he scoffs. "You child. Too stupid to know what you have now, too stupid to know it back then. You and Stucker's brat. I never should have been so careless to let you infants see me as my true self." The air around him shivers. A Dvasia takes the man's place. Elo feels her body grow cold. Burning red eyes, cutting through the night. A voice she shouldn't understand… Her eyes grow wide. "That wasn't a dream?" Icemight sneers. "You imbecilic wretch. You don't deserve what you've been given. So now I shall rectify this wrong, and have it all for myself!"

Elo is forced back, as Brauma who is Icemight becomes both and neither. In his palace springs up a whirling dervish of wispy blackness, studded with ice-point specks of silvery, splintered light. A cone of darkness, as frigid and solid as any cave, as ancient as the reaches of space, towers above her, his power drawn from the darkening sky and the rising moon. He plans to drench the world in this darkness, Elo realises. That's what Aster was trying to warn her about. This perceived slight against the natural order of things is the excuse he has been looking for. Her and Evie's mistakes will cost the world its light. Elo feels anger take her, the fire of conviction welling like a gout of bonfire-flame. This will not be permitted. There are too many beautiful things in this world, too much joy and passion, colour and laughter, for her to step back and let him smother and wilt it all under the cloak of night. The sun is lowering behind her. She felt herself reaching towards it, growing like a tree which burgeoned with the new life of Spring, until she was at eye level with Kasskekadmas, and aware of every little thing, the dreamyness of her life sloughing away. She felt keenly the night's breeze carrying the scent of jasmine and canal-waters. She could pick out every detail of Kasskekadmas's face, written in nebulae and clouds of ice, and knew exactly where the line between them lay.

He didn't wait. The sword of frost sailed out, slashing towards her. Elo spun, deflecting with a buckler of fire that she couldn't think too hard about lest it vanish. "I am stronger than you. I have been around since the drawing of time, and you – you are just an upstart. There has been night longer than there has been day!" He came at her again, the sword leaving coldly glittering particles as it travelled. Elo rose to meet it, a sword of flame flickering out to catch the frozen edge. Fire melts ice water's flame. Kasskekadmas growled. Slivers of sharpest ice raked at Elo's face and she howled, an inferno devouring a building. In retaliation, Elo kicked out. The funnel of darkness wafted back like sooted smoke in a gale.

With a snarl, he whirled towards her, a cloud of dagger-like ice. Elo ducked low, heaving up as he passed over, catapulting him away again with a rush of flame. The contact hurt them both, Elo can see that in the contortion of constellations that is his face. His sword flashed out. Elo jumped and kicked, a flaming foot glancing off his shoulder. His sword caught her ankle. Elo landed badly, panting through the pain. "Kasskekadmas, stop. This is stupid. We are evenly matched, as Aukštasvilkas intended. I don't want to spend my life fighting you!" "Upstart! I will fight until you are gone. Until your light is nothing but a memory! Until you join Strucker's meddling welp in the silent ground!" The icy barb that filled Elo's chest had nothing to do with her battle-partner. "You admit you killed her?" Elo asks, sidestepping as Kasskekadmas starts to circle, aiming for another attack. "Do you confess that you murdered Evelyn Isabel Strucker on the evening of March 25th?" He laughs derisively. "What weakness. You still care so much for the laws of mortals. Yes, I killed her. Yes, I confess," he mocks. "Blithering child, running blind, bumbling into my affairs, sticking her nose where it didn't belong!" Hot tears filled Elo's eyes. Her gun seemed to leap into her hands. "I'm placing you under arrest. Lay down your weapon and assume the position or I'll shoot." His laugh was the eerie jangle of a frozen pond. "You have had everything laid at your feet, and still you know nothing." Stars of ice flash up the gun barrel, forcing Elo to drop it. "Your toy could not hurt me before, and it shall not hurt me now!"

Anger, consuming, raced through her veins. Fire erupted from her hand in a blade of sapphire. She jumped back as he swung again. Screaming, she lunged. He twisted, crying out as her sword sliced his side. Ice clove her back. She gave herself to the rage, then, the consuming fire. They trade blow after blow, neither one able to land a good hit, a scrape for every scratch. Elo dredged up all of her grief and hurt, throwing it like a gladiator's net of fire to encase Kasskekadmas. He dodged, but only just, and retaliated in kind. She blocked the ice sheet with the buckler. Rather than chunks of ice to her face, Elo was sluiced with a wave of frigid water.

It is enough to diminish the rage. To remind her that for every blow she strikes, he will land another. Every mark she gives will be returned. He may be stronger now, but the sun will rise and she will be rejuvenated. The day will turn and in the moon's light, he will be renewed. An eternal fight, as she predicted, fueled by their rage and the turning of the world. Rage enough to maybe destroy the world. Unless something drastic happens, they will be stuck in this ouroboros forever.

They trade another flurry. He tags her leg; she burns his arm. She slices his chest; he drives a spike of ice through her thigh.

There is a drawing realisation then. Only one way possible to end this. She thinks of Farren and of Merri and all her other loves – and hopes they'll know she's sorry.

Elo stopped. The armour of her fiery conviction, the shimmering buckler, and the blade of flame dissipated, leaving the night empty and cold. Kasskekadmas reacted as expected. Only a few loping steps to meet her. His aim is true. Elo gasps as the piercing ice slides through her. Her knees give way. His sword still in her, Kasskekadmas has no choice but to follow her down. "How kind of you," he hisses, "to give in to the inevitable." Elo raises her hand to his chest. Her voice is a whisper. "Who says… this is a kindness… to you?" Fire blooms under her hand, burning through his chest. The nebulae of his face swirl in confusion. "Why?" "This is the only way to keep the balance. I would have our people move forward in peace." "I don't…" His ice is spreading, catching her lungs, making it hard to speak, but even after everything, he deserves to know. "Our people have hated too long for something that was no one's fault." Constellations clear into wide eyes. His voice is naught but a wheeze. "The sickness…" "Was from Aukštasvilkas' own heart. It tore itself apart, trying to choose." Elo's vision wavers, dizzying. "But there was nothing to choose. Both our people are beautiful, complementary." "Aukštasvilkas never wanted us to fight…" "But what you started, I will end." Elo pours the last of her fire. He calls the last of his ice. It eats a hole through him, ejecting from his back a narrow blade of light. The water in her fingers and toes and the ends of her hair crystalise. The piercing shriek he utters as he dies joins her last sigh, a puff of chilled air falling from her lips as she dies too.

[ofmermaidstories]

ok lemme tell you about the dream i had last night, with the end of the world, and bakugou, and his little classmates.

I’m on a beach. It’s overcast; the sea is white and gray and violent. this is the culmination of an earlier part of my dream, but i don’t remember it. all i know is that i’m standing on this beach with my graduating class except my graduating class is made up of BNHA characters and also, everyone else beyond the beach is dead.

the beach is split into two halves; our half, and then this massive, yellow sandstone structure in the middle, built like a fortress, and then the second half of the beach on the other side. The fortress blocks out most of our view of the other half of the beach—Class B, from my hero, are over there, getting ready in the same way we are. i’m worried because we have no way of communicating with them without physically going through the fortress but there’s bigger fish to fry—we’re getting ready to hold of an attack of zombies.

it’s stupid. they play by dream-rules. we just have to hold them off through the night, in the dark, until the morning when the sun makes them useless. but also being by the sea is stupid too, because they can come through the water. we’re basically left open for attack and we just have to do the best we can. no one’s expecting to survive this last wave, i think; everyone’s lost family or friends, we’re literally the last dredges left. it doesn’t matter: the zombies come. through the water, behind us from the dark green embankment. i’m trying to fight them off with small things—screwdrivers, ice picks, whatever is pointy but i’m getting too close to them, one grabs me and i yelp as i try to wrestle a kitchen knife into it’s eye (i win). i stumble away from it when it drops, and there’s a red wheelbarrow with a shovel and i grab it, ready to drive it into the soft decaying gaps of their necks but it’s daybreak and everyone else is cheering—the zombies are gone, we’ve survived. i’m relieved, but now i’m like, oh, fuck, i have to pack for the evacuation.

(i dunno what evacuation, but just bare with me)

but there’s a problem. everyone on our side of the beach is dropping in gratitude, or pushing the bodies out sea, cleaning up and as i’m picking up things around the fortress, the back pathway behind it that leads to the other side and the other half the beach, i realise something: i can’t hear any noises, any sounds of similar celebration, from the other side. the other class.

my stomach drops. the fortress is very tall, and very silent and is like, a warren of hallways and rooms and blind corners. i think, no, surely not—

but Bakugou’s behind me, silent and suspicious. maybe he’s noticed the same thing, idk, idc, but there’s a few others now and we’re paused, on our side of the pathway behind the fortress, when kendo and tetsutetsu shuffle out.

they’re grinning at us. kendo’s wearing tetsutetsu’s jacket. he’s shirtless. it makes it easier to see the gouging in his stomach, the way his innards are spilling out, loose and too few. she’s covered in blood and her mouth is covered in blood and i’m going to be sick, and they lurch at us and it’s Bakugou that incinerates them.

“they’re all gone,” i say in horror. “there’s no way—”

bakugou’s mouth just thins grimly, and eventually our cleanup party extends to taking out the rest of the walking dead that was their year mates.

(the dream starts to trail off here, like the world and the in-dream logic is beginning to crumble. i’m in the fortress, edging around corners, wary of zombies: instead i find a bedroom with a huddle of my old toys on the bed, all sentient and all very mad with me, because i am leaving them behind to evacuate. i don’t know what to say. i’m a little scared of them—why the fuck are they talking?—but also i’m trying to explain to them that i can’t take them, i don’t have the space or luxury to, i can’t fit them and what i need into my bag. Bakugou’s there, still frowning, keeping the floor swept of zombies. as i explain to them they can’t come, he’s trying to clear a space in his bag so i can bring one, or two. but then it’s a matter of choosing who leave behind, and despite how much they freak me out, i feel bad.

we have to leave soon. i wake up and it’s an overcast day.)

[demonangelgirl134]

Dragon Dude

(Design inspiration by @konzaarts)

Name: Dragon Dude

Real name: Crispian

Age: 13

Gender: male

Sexuality: pansexual (but demiromantic)

Location: New York city

Place of birth: Arizona

Occupation: Superhero

Favorite color: orange

Nationality: American

Species: Lung dragon/element dragon

Character trait: Good

Personality:

Snarky

Arrogant

Brave

Impulsive

Rude

Short-tempered

Tough

Distrustful to new people

Implacable

Sassy

Egotistical

Cinnamon roll (inside)

Emotional

Eventually gives in to his soft side

Powers and abilities:

Flight

Fire breathing

Water jet spitting

Water manipulation

Ice breath

Earth manipulation

Plant manipulation

Super strength

Super strong breath

Super speed

Heat ray vision

Accessories:

Utility belt

Iron tail club

Physical characteristics:

Looks like a fire dragon but is actually an element dragon

Has all the powers of elements

Walks on four feet but can also walk on his hind legs

About 2 feet tall (4 feet standing on hind legs)

Has horrible self-esteem issues under his massive ego

Likes

Adventure

Justice

Crime fighting

Messing with his teammates

Spending time with his friends

Pranking his teammates

Video games

Rock music

Playing guitar

Winning fights both physical and arguments (mostly arguments)

Swimming

Robots

Doing things his own way

Protecting his friends

Comic books

Dislikes:

Losing arguments

Losing fights

New people

Evil

Crying in front of anyone

When people try to back him into the emotional corner

When people try to get him to talk about his feelings

Working outside of crime fighting

When something reminds him of his past

When people call him weak

Stupidity

Faults:

Is arrogant

Is dishonest

Doesn't like to accept help

Likes to do things his own way

Is overly obsessed with proving he's a tough, independent hero when he's still just a rookie

Is impulsive

Is short tempered

Fears:

People thinking he's weak and pathetic

Losing his only friends

Friends:

Wonder Girl (Penelope Prince)

Voidz (Adrian Wayne)

Electrodog (Volts)

Elastabird (Crimson)

Enemies:

Dr. Vortex (Victor Wayne)

Black Knight (Vanessa Luthor)

Freezeo

Any villain

Many other dragons

Relationship status: single

Family members:

Saurin (father)

Eclipse (mother)

Cirrus (older brother)

Cavern (older sister)

Saguaro (uncle)

Darter (younger sister)

Delta (aunt)

Backstory:

Crispian grew up in a dragon cave in South Arizona with his mother, father, brother, two sisters, aunt, and uncle. He was somehow born with all the element powers dragons have and was apparently the first-ever dragon to have that happen to him because there's never before been a dragon to even hold two elements at once let alone all of them. Because of this, all the other dragons rejected him and made fun of him for being an avatar, even his own family who would constantly call him a disappointment (especially his father Saurin) or at least that's what it felt like for him in his young mind. He was also quite the emotional type and the other dragons made fun of that too. Whenever he did make friends, they would either find out about his element powers and turn on him or the other dragons who made fun of him would spread rumors about him to his friends about his element powers and make them leave him, so he eventually stopped making friends and trusting people altogether because he knew they would just backstab him and turn on him as all the others would. One day, he ran away from home all the way to New York City to be alone, where he saw some of the dragons from his neighborhood attacking the city and Wonder Girl and her team were fighting them. He was so amazed by them that he wanted to be a superhero like them so he could prove his worth and show that his powers weren't just a mistake. He approached them and asked to become a superhero like them, and they accepted him into their team. He thus became Dragon Dude and tried his hardest to prove he was a tough hero and hold back all his tears no matter what, but he usually tried too hard, and Voidz, Electrodog, and Elastabird started to hate him for his arrogance and sass, and almost tried to kick him out. mostly because he never said anything to them about his past and they thought he was just a selfish jerk, and they almost got him to quit if Wonder Girl hadn't gotten him to tell the rest of the team why he was the way he was and assured him he didn't have to prove anything and they cared about him. The fact that someone really cared about him got Dragon Dude to give up on trying so hard to prove his worth and started fighting crime out of the kindness of his heart. He even made up with his family

[dogmomwrites]

15 Questions, OC Edition

This tag came from @saltysupercomputer, so thank you!! I'm gonna pass it on with soft tags to @i-can-even-burn-salad, @on-noon, @menagerie-of-monsters, and @writting-in-blood, as well as keeping it an open tag for anyone who wants to share a little about their OCs!

This tag is for Old Tom from my fantasy series

Are you named after anyone? A folk hero of legend, yes. There are many stories about my namesake—too many to list here—but I've always worn our shared name with pride. The nickname is somewhat newer; I've traveled often, ever since I was old enough to weather the harsh winter outside our mountains on my own, and I quickly accumulated enough stories to leave the elders waiting their turn. A lighthearted comment was made about me being old despite my youth. At least, I hope it was lighthearted. I've never taken it with offense, as I remember being a small kit enraptured by the stories our elders would tell

When was the last time you cried? It has been a little while, now that I think about it. About eight moons, give or take a day or two

Do you have kids? Yes, I do! I'm the proudest father of seven beautiful children. Yes, seven is a rather large number, but it's very common for us cats to have more children than humans. My number is actually below the average

Do you use sarcasm a lot? I use sarcasm when I feel it's called for, which is wholly dependent on my current company

What’s the first thing you notice about people? Forgive me for my simpleness, but I tend to notice their species first and foremost

What’s your eye color? A very pale blue, like ice glazed over the mountainside

Scary movies or happy endings? I'm a fan of most any story, so please don't push for me to pick between the two. They both have their merits

Any special talents? I know every book in my library and can locate whichever someone is looking for no matter how weak their description of it is. I take great pride in that

Where were you born? In the nursery of our mountain home. My littermates and I were born in a cozy nest with our excited yet apprehensive father looking on and on the other side of the door, a horde of uncles, aunts, and cousins waiting to meet us. A new litter is always a cause of excitement and celebration for us

What are your hobbies? Oh, I do keep myself busy. You name it, chances are high that I've tried my paw at it

Have you any pets? When I was a very young kit, I sneaked out of the nursery and found a funny-looking animal swimming in a pool. I was so delighted by its ugliness that I spent hours playing with it, though I didn't dare step any further than the shallows. Imagine my surprise after I was found, brought home, scolded by both worried parents, and then finally told of where I'd been, only to be informed that my new pet was called a fish. And we ate them. It was a day to remember, that's for sure

What sports do you play/have played? As I mentioned before, I've tried my paw at every game I've come across. Not many human games are very cat-friendly, although I've found I can hold my own with a little practice

How tall are you? I stand sixteen inches at the shoulder

Favorite subject in school? Hunting! I always loved when our teachers would take us out into the caves and show us how to stalk, pounce, and track our prey. I was a very dutiful student and would practice my pouncing on my littermates as soon as we returned home from classes!

Dream job? I already have that, I'm pleased to say. I'm the librarian. They call me the wandering librarian, as I'm prone to bouts of wanderlust, but I've trained my assistants well, and the library runs quite well when I'm not there

The empty question template is under this cut!

Are you named after anyone?

When was the last time you cried?

Do you have kids?

Do you use sarcasm a lot?

What’s the first thing you notice about people?

What’s your eye color?

Scary movies or happy endings?

Any special talents?

Where were you born?

What are your hobbies?

Have you any pets?

What sports do you play/have played?

How tall are you?

Favorite subject in school?

Dream job?

[gauldheri]

"Been playing healer for a while, if you cared to actually pay attention, dear. Though perhaps reality is beyond you, so wrapped up in your own emotions?" Sylvain's lip curls upwards in a snarl, pulling the flask of medicine closer to himself. He had yet to exchange words with this man, who deemed fit to judge him anyway. Just like every other person he met. It didn't matter, wouldn't even hurt if he wasn't so damn hungry. "Damage report? You seem strangely proud of the fact you've gone and condemned another person to die alongside the poor child. Don't worry, I know you won't spill any tears for me."

"But what about Mark and Lianna, or Forde? Good, kind people sentenced to death whilst you got your fill. Or your friend, Azama? Will you curse my pragmatism when he slips away too because none of you wanted to consider the truth before you?"

"I made this and I'm on the verge of starvation so I have every right to take it," Sylvain fixes his gaze on Python and tries to shrug off the feeling of being two feet tall. The man stands in a position only his father felt entitled to take up. But Python lacks the authority, the ability to turn his blood to ice with dread that Matthias had so perfected. To him, it was as ridiculous as seeing a child wearing a suit of full armour, pretending to be a hero. To add to the absurdity, Python has the nerve to consider him cruel and selfish, to lecture him after indulging his own needs. "Pity though, there might have been enough to save all of us who went without. Guess that's on your head though. Not mine. I was brave enough to speak the truth at least."

"Meanwhile, you happily ate your share whilst denying me mine. Don't be fool enough to think I'll let you push me around after that."

tough pill to swallow

[scarlettriot]

Dealing With The Past

KiriBaku (sort of) GN!Y/N ((Could read as a polyship if you'd like to))

Warnings: Past Abuse (verbal & mental), trauma responses (freeze & fight), swearing

Summary: When you're getting yelled at by someone who assumes you're not taking classes seriously, Bakugo notices you freeze on the spot. He & Kiri both let you know you're gonna be okay.

Word Count: 891

It was the yelling that made Bakugo slip his headphones back off one ear. He could hear it going on for the last five minutes, muffled by his music while he tried to study in the common room.

Immediately, he knew it was Tenya's voice. Not exactly surprising. The man was standing in the kitchen, arms moving about like he was trying to taxi a plane, and his voice growing louder and louder by the second. What kept Bakugo's attention was the fact he seemed to be yelling at you of all people and you were letting him.

That didn't make any sense though. Bakugo watched you talk smack to villains in the last two years, seen you stand up to people who talked down to your friends, hells, you even put him in his place a time or two but now, standing in front of Tenya letting him berate you.

Kirishima had already abandoned his dinner, trying to stand between the two of you and talk Tenya down but it didn't seem to do much good.

You just stood half behind Kirishima, you're head low and arms pulled around your torso like you were trying to shrink in on yourself.

There were precious few situations Bakugo would allow himself to be brought into and even fewer that he'd willingly put himself in the middle of but in the time he'd known you Bakugo had never seen you look so small, so helpless and it made him act.

"Four Eyes! Shut up!"

He didn't miss the way your shoulders flinched at his own voice. "I will not, Bakugo! Y/N must learn to take their responsibilities more seriously! How will they ever become a hero if they aren't dedicated! It's my job-"

"As class president, yeah, we get it!" He grabbed your wrist. "I know you think it's your job but you're not their fucking father. Come on, Y/N, let's go."

Tenya tried to keep talking and you were frozen to the spot even when Bakugo tugged your wrist you didn't budge and that was when he knew exactly what this was. A minor flashback to his own childhood, memories he didn't want to recall.

Thanks to sharing a knowing look with Kirishima, the redhead managed to pull Tenya's focus away long enough for Bakugo to grab your shoulders and march you outside into fresh night air.

"Be right back." He said, moderating his tone to be quieter than usual. "Stay put, okay?"

He returned within a couple minutes, a tall glass of ice water in his hand, and Kirishima on his heels since he knew his best friend was often easier to talk to than he was.

"You okay?" Bakugo asked after he handed over the water. You nodded and let both of them take a seat on either side of you. They didn't say a word, rather they waited for you to feel comfortable talking with them and, once the water was half gone, you eventually spoke.

"He's worried I'm not taking my exams seriously. He was just upset that I was doing karaoking with some people rather than studying because I need to study. Tenya never fails to remind me how my skills in the field aren't everything. He's right. I know he is. I'm gonna fall behind everyone even though my brain feels like it's gonna explode trying to remember everything all the time and I- he just got frustrated and I felt like a kid again."

There it was.

Bakugo and Kirishima both knew what you were feeling, both in different ways. It was Kirishima to speak first though.

He rested a hand on your knee, bringing your attention to him. "You're not gonna fall behind. We aren't gonna let you. And you can't study all the time, anyways! You'll get burnt out like that both physically and mentally! I was so sick after the entrance exam 'cause I pushed myself too damn hard."

Kirishima was able to understand the pressure you put on yourself.

How hard you both worked on your academics was something Bakugo wasn't able to relate to but he knew exactly what it was like to be a child yelled at for any number of reasons. It didn't matter what the reasons were, those voices stay with you as much as the memories do.

The difference was how you both handled it. Bakugo took up yelling in retaliation. He had to be louder to be heard but you, you froze. Froze to the point you couldn't speak, wouldn't move.

"I'm already helping, Shitty Hair, I'll just help you too. That way if Four Eyes has a problem with your marks, he can yell at me and see how well that goes."

Bakugo had no intention of drudging up your past, you'd talk about it when you were ready to, he was confident of that. And if you wanted help standing up for yourself, you'd ask for that too. In the meantime, he'd help you how he could. Help the both of you because that was what the three of you did for one another.

Kirishima had his arm around you, your head resting on his shoulder when Bakugo felt your fingers brush against his, he wound them together. His silent way of letting you know you weren't alone.

"Thank you, both."

[letarasstuff]

Unbreakable Bond

(A/N): This is based on this post and this tiktok

Summary: A big age gap between Aaron's children doesn't have to mean that they are unable to form a strong bond

Warnings: Mentions of Haley's death and failed relationships

Wordcount: 1.8k

✨Masterlist✨

_________________________________

His life took turns Aaron never expected. It’s not the “Oh, mh, well that was unexpected”-type of turns, I talk about the “God played Cards Against Humanity with angels and decided to make it happen for someone”-type. But looking back he would not want to change a thing.

After Haley and Beth he was convinced that God, the Universe, something out there shared the opinion that romantic love isn’t the right thing for him and Aaron accepted that fact. Even more when he and Jack went into witness protection. I mean, when you are worried about the life of your family being in danger because of a stalker, you don’t think about the beautiful neighbor, who lives next door, right? Right?

Well, without going into too much detail, Hotch did think about her and she about him and vice versa. Everything went good until Aaron received the message that the team found the stalker and that it was safe to come back. He decided to come clean to his girlfriend. They talked about the possibility of moving back to Quantico.

In the end they decided in favor of the move, the final argument was the surprising announcement of her being pregnant. Hotch wants to raise their youngest where his and Jack’s roots are located. But he decides against taking a position at the BAU, instead taking a desk job in order to be more at home. He also has the opportunity to work from home after little (Y/N) was born and continues to do so until she is old enough to go to Kindergarten. Even then he takes two days the week where he stays home. Aaron learned from his decisions and mistakes he made in the past and wants to live up to them and be a better father and husband than before.

And Hotch keeps it to this day, six years later. It’s (Y/N)’s first day of school, while Jack just graduated high school and goes off to college in a few weeks. Even though they have an age gap from twelve and a half years, their parents are sure there are no other siblings with such a strong bond.

Ever since his baby sister’s birth Jack is her biggest supporter, protector and friend. Her first word was his name, though it was more of a “ACK!”, but that’s the best nickname he ever got. As soon as (Y/N) was old enough to comprehend the concept of movies, he introduced her to Star Wars. Since then lightsaber wars out of cardboard pipes are not uncommon. Last Halloween they even dressed up as Chewbakka and Han Solo. You get three guesses on who was who.

“JACK!” (Y/N) runs into her big brother’s room with an excited expression on her face. “Daddy promised to buy me a real lightsaber after I read ten books! With lights and sounds and all! Isn’t that cool?” Jack smiles. Aaron did a similar thing with him. For a certain amount of books he got a reward they discussed beforehand. This way he felt motivated to read and improved writing and reading skills.

“This is awesome. I think that means we have to go book shopping together, what do you think?” (Y/N) is not only the cool kid that has an older brother, she is also the cool kid, whose older brother has a drivers license, a car and a part time job. She nods with big eyes, speechless, because the offer sounds like heaven to her. Getting books and one on one time with Jack after he was really busy with school for weeks? This has to be heaven.

“Ok, then you put your outside clothes on and I’ll tell Dad about our plan.” At that the little girl rushes to her room, not wanting to waste any more time. Jack makes his way down to the kitchen, where Aaron wipes the table from lunch down.

“Dad, I take (Y/N) to this bookstore in DC and we’ll probably go eat ice cream after that. Is that alright?” Hotch looks up at his son. It still feels like yesterday as he told Haley that Gideon is a big no as a baby name. Now he is all grown up and just a few weeks away from the next big chapter in his life.

“Of course, just let me get my wall-” Jack cuts him off. “No need, I want to use this as a kind of goodbye thing. At least until Thanksgiving.” Aaron knows what he means. It’s his last day before he goes off to college and just a couple more until the first classes begin. The family still hasn’t told their youngest exactly what’s going on. Else she would refuse to go to school and go on with her day, insisting on using all the time they have until Jack drives off.

Two hours later the siblings leave the bookstore, both of them having a bag in their hands. Of course Jack's heavier, but both he and the cashier assured (Y/N) that they lift the same amount of weight.

“Uncle Spence will be excited when I tell him that I read Harry Potter, he told me so many good things about it”, the girl gushes. Jack nods, indicating that he is listening. Of course they also picked books that are not that advanced. Still, no sister of his shall grow up without knowing the beauty of the wizarding world. Also, secretly he is hoping for her to turn out as nerdy as he is so they get more things to talk about. His next step is superheroes, especially the Marvel ones.

They converse until they get to an ice cream parlor and order both their usuals. “Do you think you are ready for me to tell you something important?” The older one asks after they sit down at a table. (Y/N) nods, confusion taking over her face.

“Uhm, you know how I graduated from high school? I’m done with school, but I want to get a degree, but for that I have to go to college. It’s pretty far away so I can’t come home for a few months. But I’m back home when Thanksgiving is and also for Christmas.” It doesn’t matter what Jack says, a sad frown has formed on the little one’s face. “Oh. And after Christmas, will you leave again?” He nods and explains when he is off from college and when not.

“We can always skype and write letters. How does that sound? And when you get your first phone, we can even text.” That (Y/N) lights up a bit. For her first year of school she got a stationary set and is eager to use it to this day.

“I’m going to miss you so much”, she says hugging her big brother. Jack pats her back. “I’ll miss you, too.”

The goodbye the next day is a heartfelt matter. Everybody cries, especially (Y/N). She can’t fathom a scenario where her brother isn’t there for her all the time.

The following weeks are also hard for the family. The youngest refuses to sleep alone for the first three days after Jack’s leave. She is more closed off and mainly just does her school work or reads the books he bought for her. By the time Thanksgiving is only away for another two weeks, (Y/N) has read through all of them at least two times.

Her father already ordered the lightsaber he promised her. Unfortunately shipping takes several months, so the little girl still has to wait patiently for her reward to arrive. In the meantime she works on getting the next and she is already pretty close to the comic book collection she wants.

“Sweetheart, can you set the table, please? Your Mom will be here soon from grocery shopping and she will need help getting them from the car into the house”, Hotch calls for his daughter while stirring in a pot.

The little girl nods, putting her stationary set and pens aside to do as her father asked. She is in the middle of answering her brother’s last letter, telling him that she is now the one that usually has to read aloud for the class because of her advanced skill for a first grader.

Just as she sets the last piece of silverware down the doorbell rings. “Sweetie, can you please open it? This should be your mother.” Happily (Y/N) runs up and turns the door knob. Over the last few months she hit a small growing spurt and is finally tall enough to reach it without standing on her tippy toes.

“Mo-” She nearly chokes on her own saliva. The one at the door is definitely not her mother. “JACK!” (Y/N) runs up to him and jumps onto his leg. “Hey Princess. I thought now that you read your books, we need to hold the most amazing lightsaber fight in history.” With a mischievous smile he pulls two from his back, giving one to his baby sister.

It is the most epic fight in history between an elementary schooler and a college boy. They can only be stopped by their parents announcing that it is a tie between both of them and that they have to sit down, else the food gets cold.

The following weeks mostly consist of (Y/N)’s joyous laughs and cuddling with her big brother. She even insists on him sleeping with her in her much smaller bed. On his last night before going back to college, the little girl turns to him in the middle of watching her favorite movie in the living room.

“Do you promise not to forget me when you are away? Because I alway think about you and tell my friends so much about you. I told them you are a hero, my hero, just like Daddy. They wanna meet you because of that.” Jack has to hold back tears at her statement.

“I also think of you so much. All of my friends at college are pretty jealous of me having such a sweet baby sister. Maybe one time you can visit me and I can introduce you to them.” The thought of that makes (Y/N) smile and is a little consolation to the thought of her brother leaving again.

Aaron watches the interaction going down, happy to see the strong bond between his children, despite their age gap. This is nothing like he and Sean were and that is a relief for him and the worries he had in the beginning. It is a sign that he did do some things right as a father.

Taglist:

All works:

@dindjarinsspouse @big-galaxy-chaos @jswessie187

Criminal Minds:

@averyhotchner @mggsprettygirl @herecomesthewriterwitch @ash19871962 @ellyhotchner

[andypantsx3]

subtle | shouto todoroki/reader

pairing: Todoroki Shouto / Reader

status: complete

length: 2,171 words

summary: Someone leaves chocolates on your desk. You're determined to track down the sender, certain it's a mistake, and Shouto Todoroki makes himself as unhelpful as possible.

tags: romance, reader-insert, fluff, valentine’s day

warnings: aged up characters (no smut though!!)

There was a box on your desk.

There was a box on your desk, and the sight of it was enough to instantly set you on edge.

The box looked normal enough, if a little fancy, maybe. Its lacquered top glinted brightly under the fluorescent office lighting, its smooth, polished sides waterfalling into the soft matte of your desktop underneath. You weren’t close enough to read the inscription, but you could just make out some elegant, curling script inlaid into the top of the box, possibly the name of whichever company had produced it.

The box looked very normal, in fact. Only, you knew it wasn’t. Boxes didn’t just show up in the middle of the Todoroki Hero Agency, a campus swimming with pros and armed with layers of security so deep it took even you--Shouto Todoroki’s manager--fifteen full minutes to get through screening every morning. It was something very much like being a prison guard at Tartarus.

So either this box meant the agency was dealing with a security breach the likes of which had scarcely been seen before, or someone had mistaken your desk for somebody else’s.

Which, considering it was Valentine’s Day, made a lot more sense.

Buoyed by the realization it wasn't a security risk, you crept closer, peering at the box, and the script resolved itself into the name of the extremely fancy chocolatier in Hiroo district that you made a point of drooling over every time you had to make a house call on Shouto. Their prices were literally insane, so you had never let yourself wander inside, unwilling to shell out an entire week’s pay for a tiny set of chocolates. Even if they did look absolutely fucking unbelievable from the window.

Your mouth watered.

That confirmed it--this was a Valentine's gift, and it was definitely a mistake. For the briefest of seconds, you’d wondered if maybe you had gotten obligatory office friendship chocolates, but this was too much. Some poor, love-sodden flop had gone out, spent their week’s pay on someone they were clearly very serious about, and then proceeded to fuck the entire thing up by plonking their gift straight onto your desk instead of their intended’s.

You frowned, quickly checking the box over for some kind of clue as to who had left it. There was no note included, nothing even mildly helpful that would give you the slightest hint of the person who'd left it here. Which left you with the question of how to return the box to the sender without knowing who they were, or how to pass it on to whoever they’d really meant it for.

You drew your bottom lip between your teeth, staring hard at the surface of the box like you could crack its code if only you glared hard enough. The box stared back at you, unhelpfully silent.

You were still skewering the box with your gaze some minutes later, determined to unravel its secrets, when a deep voice murmured from your doorway.

“You look puzzled."

You startled, whipping around to find Shouto propping up the wall, looking as unfairly handsome as usual. He was watching you intently, those heterochromatic eyes fastened to your face in that careful way he had, the one that always made you feel too warm and slightly unfocused. As usual, it was all you could do to remind yourself that you were a professional and he was something solidly between a friend and a coworker, and no matter how cute and attentive he was, you shouldn't get any ideas.

This morning, he was dressed in his hero uniform, tall and broad-shouldered, his distinctive hair only a little ruffled from his early patrol. It wasn’t often someone tried something in the districts he watched over anymore, probably too nervous to find themselves on the wrong end of the number four hero’s temper. You knew from the reports you received to your phone that the only trouble he’d encountered this morning was a pack of amorous school girls purposely misusing their quirks to draw his attention.

Thirty minutes ago, in fact, you’d almost spit out your coffee laughing at a photo of him looking wildly uncomfortable as he attempted to ice down some girl’s lava quirk with his right hand while fighting off her unfathomably enormous bouquet with his left. It was only right that he should suffer once a year, when every other day he got to stalk about as handsome as you please, oblivious to the effects his appearance had on every breathing person within a five mile radius.

You gave him an absent nod, gaze drawn back to the box on your desk.

“Somebody accidentally left something in here,” you told him, gesturing to it. “I’m trying to figure out how to track down who it was, or who it was meant for.”

Shouto made a small noise in the back of his throat, almost like a cough, and it was enough to startle you into looking up at him again.

“What?” you asked, peering at him. Was he coming down with something? It wasn't often he got sick, but when he did, he usually attempted to hide it and needed to be steamrolled into taking time off. You looked him over, trying to assess whether or not you needed to start badgering him now.

Shouto gazed back at you evenly, his expression deceptively bland. “...You think it’s not for you.”

You felt yourself blink at him, surprised by the comment and struggling to discern his meaning. What did he mean, you think it’s not for you? “Of course it’s not for me, Shouto, it’s from Grégoire Chardin.”

You knew he’d know the place, considering he lived in the same fancy rich people neighborhood as the chocolatier, but Shouto looked unimpressed.

“Why should that mean it’s not for you?” he asked, his tone dry.

The remark caught you off guard, as his comments sometimes did, and you bit down something like a smile. Bless his sweet, oblivious, rich boy heart. Either he overestimated your appeal to his agency staff, or he really did not understand the concepts of cost and return on investment.

“It’s expensive, it’s not something you would give someone as obligatory chocolates,” you explained, watching as a white eyebrow went up. His expression sharpened into something you couldn’t read well.

“It could be a secret admirer,” he said.

You stared blankly back at him, absolutely floored by the idea.

He thought you had a secret admirer? The idea sent an excited thrill all the way down to your toes, but you quickly squashed the feeling. So far, you'd never been on the receiving end of any furtive but romantic gestures, and you really didn't get any interested vibes from anyone in the office, no lingering glances or excuses to spend more time with you. The person who paid you the most amount of attention was Shouto, which was to be expected, considering how closely you worked together. And obviously he wasn't interested, he was just happy to stand in your doorway spouting wild conspiracies about his agency staffers like they were completely reasonable things to say.

“I don’t have a secret admirer,” you told him.

Shouto’s mouth pressed into a thin line and he took an intent step forward into your office. “Is the point of a secret admirer not to be exactly that--secret? How can you be sure?”

You couldn’t help it--you gaped at him, your face going weirdly warm. Okay, was he--was he serious? You obviously weren’t the most unfortunate creature on earth, and you even had your good days, but nobody in their right mind was going to attempt anything with you when there were girls like Nejire Hado and Ibara Shiozaki roaming the hallways of his agency. Even several of the analysts and most of the support crew had you beat out in terms of appeal--literally bless this man for his obvious indifference to your appearance.

“I, uh--thanks for your confidence in me,” you said, fighting down a laugh. “But I assure you, it definitely wasn’t meant for me. I just have to figure out who left it and who they meant it for.”

Shouto shifted impatiently, like he was waiting for something.

“You’re so certain,” he said, sounding frustrated.

“Of course I am,” you waved at him vaguely. It was actually super cute that he thought you could net yourself a dude who was willing to shell out Grégoire Chardin dollars, but you were just wasting time now, lingering over the least important part of this entire affair. “Listen, Shouto. I know sometimes men talk in the locker rooms. If you--if you hear anything, will you let me know? I just want to return it, it looks way too good sitting here.”

It was actually taking all your willpower not to open it and avail yourself of Japan’s finest chocolate, considering you would never have another opportunity like this again. Maybe you should just pretend it was for you....Really, no one could fault you for opening something left in your own office. But...no. No, you knew better.

Shouto appeared indifferent to your internal struggle. He watched you for a long moment, his features impassive. “Under one condition,” he finally allowed.

You cocked an ear to show you were listening, rifling around with the paperwork on your desk to distract yourself from the chocolate. You were strong, a good person. You had willpower like steel. You did not need to eat it, no no no.

“If no one comes looking for it by the end of the day, you will open it,” he said, moving closer.

You glanced up at him, shocked. “Shouto, this is someone else’s gift,” you hissed. “I can’t just open it.”

He placed a large palm down on your desk, leaning over you slightly. “That is my bargain.”

“You want me to steal somebody’s shit in your own agency,” you accused him. You tried not to pay attention to how close he had gotten, how straight his nose was up close, the way his eyes seemed brighter and his mouth pulled into a pout almost too pretty for a man.

The rest of his expression slipped into something like annoyance, matching his pout. “If no one comes for it, then it must be evident that it was meant for you.”

You suppressed a derisive laugh. Now was not the time to get shirty with your own boss, especially when his delusions were kind of sweet. It was honestly just short of a miracle that a man who looked like Shouto did could possibly think anyone on earth would have a thing for you, regardless of his own tastes.

“What if they’re just too shy to ask for it back?” you asked, watching those heterochromatic eyes flick over you curiously.

“If it’s as expensive as you say, someone will come looking,” he said. Which was actually kind of annoyingly reasonable.

A smirk flitted across his maddeningly perfect face when you failed to come up with another argument. He had a point, and he knew it.

You let out a gusty sigh. “Fine, but only because I’m certain someone will come looking for it. Please be subtle when you’re gathering info, okay? I'm sure this is embarrassing for whoever made this mistake.”

Shouto looked almost offended. “I am perfectly capable of being subtle,” he intoned in his deep voice.

This time, you did laugh. He was quiet, maybe, very perceptive, and unobtrusive when he wanted to be, but no one had ever accused the man of possessing tact. “Yeah, okay. Just, try to channel more subtlety than you think you need, okay? No one else but the sender needs to know about the mix up.”

There was a moment of silence, and then Shouto was leaning over you more fully, eyes glittering strangely as his clean, fresh scent met your nose. You froze in your chair, brain going horrifyingly vacant as he leaned impossibly nearer. What the fuck was he doing?

“It will be like I’m not even asking,” Shouto promised, his voice light. “Not asking anyone at all.”

You tried to scrape your thoughts back into something resembling order, but the effort was all but futile. You needed to get him out of your space stat before you embarrassed yourself.

”Okay, then it’s a deal,” you said quickly. “Now go...flambé a villain or something.”

Shouto lingered for a long moment, his mouth curling a little at the corner, like he was being let in on a secret you couldn’t hear. His eyes brushed over you, almost like a physical touch. And then he was gone, pulling open the door to your office, looking annoyingly pleased with himself.

“You will see,” he said by way of farewell. “You will find out how subtle I can be.”

You stared at him in confusion, but he didn’t explain himself. He just smirked, and closed the door behind himself.

[randomnatshig]

Okay but like… there’s not enough villain!Natsuo stories with Natshig (in general but also) where people actually recognize Natsuo as being a significant threat and that’s just a gosh dang shame.

Like. The dude is dating the LEADER of the LOV, who can legit kill you with a touch of his hand. Assuming the relationship is like 99.9% of the shippers make it out to be, people should be less worried about pissing off Shigaraki and more worried about staying on Natsuo’s good side.

Because if the relationship is like it is in almost every piece of content with these two, Shigaraki would kill someone for Natsuo. He would NOT kill someone for Natsuo. He would probably level whole cities to make Natsuo happy.

Shigaraki is the leader of the LOV, no doubt. He’s the face of the League, he’s (credited as, and actually is a lot of the time) the brains behind everything they do, he’s the one with the deadly dangerous quirk. But Natsuo has him wrapped around his little finger.

A quick example of this (TW now for a mention of su*cide and a depiction of death):

He had thought he was doing everything right, this whole villain gig. He had a cool villain name, Thanatos, for the Greek personification of death. He had rallied a small group to his cause, 4 or 5 people he trusted, not enough to put his life completely in their hands, but enough to watch his back without stabbing him in it. He had gotten his group fame, or rather, infamy, not so much that they showed up on any top priority hit-list put out by the government, but rather just so much that they were known enough for their name to be whispered in fear.

He had even gotten them protection from the much-more infamous League of Villains, having gone through Giran to speak with their leader, Shigaraki Tomura. The group had to promise credit of large-scale attacks to the League, and stay out of the way of their plans. Thanatos had decided that would work out better for his group in the long run anyways. This way, they stayed out of national news as much as possible, meaning less heroes would be on manhunts for their capture.

He was very careful to never upstage or upset Shigaraki, or any notable member of the League for that matter, and he always made sure his own people did the same. It was a sort of slow, patient waltz, he led, always dancing just out of reach of the spotlight, close enough to feel it’s heat but never enough to be illuminated in its bright, blinding beam.

He never expected the music of his waltz to end with the shrill sound of the record being scratched by the needle of the phonograph.

Thanatos wasn’t sure how he ended up in this position… until he saw him, that is. A tall, dare-he-say buff man with grey eyes and pure white hair. Someone he would have mistaken for a college jock, maybe some volleyball player whose head was so far up his own ass he couldn’t see anything besides himself.

He definitely would not have assumed the man to be a villain.

“Now then, Thanatos,” Shigaraki rasped, saying Thanatos’ name with such sarcasm you could probably feel it through the ground. “You may recognize Natsuo here.”

Natsuo. That was the man’s name. Thanatos paled as he recalled his only prior encounter with the man standing in front of him, scowling down at him.

He had been in a coffee shop, at the front of the line, speaking with a friend of his about how Endeavor could possibly be a hero, with how horrible he was at it. Thanatos may have hinted that Endeavor’s eldest son, now deceased, had offed himself on purpose to get away from him. As soon as he grabbed his drink, and turned to leave, he collided with someone.

Natsuo, whose glare was becoming more and more intense by the second.

His drink went all over Natsuo, and rather than apologize, he had snapped at the white-haired man to watch where he was going, then bitched and complained about the price of his drink until Natsuo, however begrudgingly, offered to buy him a fresh one. Well, okay, maybe offered wasn’t the correct word. Thanatos had been raising such a fuss over his ruined coffee that it was either Natsuo buy him a new one or be escorted out and banned for a week.

He realized now how awful his actions had been, but was it really enough to warrant his death, at Shigaraki’s hands no less?

Speaking of Shigaraki’s hands, one was placed on his arm now, all 5 fingers touching his skin ever so slightly. It was the worst pain Thanatos had ever felt, a searing, burning feeling as his arm turned to dust and faded out of existence. He knew now that it wouldn’t be long before the decaying spread to his whole body.

“Would you like to know exactly what I feel warrants this?” Natsuo asked.

“I’m… sorry,” Thanatos choked out over his own pain, “about the drink.”

“This isn’t about the drink,” Natsuo snapped. “That was just the cherry on top of your little hell cake. Why I really feel you deserve this is because of what you said about my brother.”

“B-brother?”

“Yes, my brother.” Natsuo’s gaze had turned so cold it made Thanatos wonder if he had an ice quirk. “Todoroki Touya.”

Thanatos certainly felt ice run through his veins at the mention of the number 2 hero’s dead son. That made Natsuo Endeavor’s son as well. What was he doing with the villains? With Shigaraki?

The crumbling of his body had reached his shoulders now, and was spreading down his torso. He had hoped he would become numb to the pain, though it did not seem to be happening. The more he turned to dust, the more he felt he would rather jump into the sun itself. He was sure that would be a less painful way to go.

He looked at Shigaraki, gasping out one final word before his vocal cords were destroyed completely: “Why?”

“Why am I doing this?” Shigaraki chuckled, low and horrifying. “Because you fucked with Natsuo. Maybe we’ll use your ashes as a cautionary tale to anyone else who feels like treating him like shit.”

The last thing Thanatos saw as he faded out of existence was Shigaraki placing his hand on Natsuo’s cheek, cupping the slightly taller man’s face like a precious jewel, and drawing him in for a kiss.