#But with a “Real” Hero there to stop the Ghosts they took more time to work on the Acts and add even more horrible parts to it

[bet-on-me-13]

Dark Secret

So! Danny was discovered pretty quickly after his first battle against the Lunch Lady. His hair turned white, and his body shape was a little different, but he largely looked very similar to his Human Form, so it was only a matter of time really.

Thankfully he was assumed to be a Metahuman.

He didn't look like any other Ghost, the closest resemblance was his hair and eye color, but even that could be explained away. Also his parents were adamant that he couldn't be a Ghost because he was still Sentient and not Evil, so he must just have powers that just looked similar to Ghost Powers esthetically. Probably as a result of the Portal Accident, which he used as an explanation for how his powers awakened.

Danny also avoided using the more obvious Ghost Powers like Intangiblity and Invisiblity, sticking mostly to the most basic Flight and Energy based Powers he got to be as generic as possible. If anybody saw otherwise, it was a trick of the light or a trick of the Ghosts.

Danny became the Hero of Amity Park, always pretending to be something else. It was his darkest secret.

Unfortunately because the public never saw a Ghost like Phantom on a positive light, their perception of Ghosts never changed. Nobody believed that Ghosts could be anything aside from Evil, and as the knowledge of Ghosts and the Ghost Zone began to spread around the world that perception became more and more commonplace.

If Danny had been revealed in the early days, it could have been salvageable, but nowadays if his secret was revealed he would have to convince the entire world that everything they knew about Ghosts was wrong. It would practically be impossible.

Even when he joined the Justice League when he became an Adult, he still had to hide his secret. Years of hiding made sure he could conceal his true Nature from the magic users on the team, but he still had to be distant from the team just to be sure.

While all this was going on in the Living Realm, his adventures in the Ghost Zone still happened as normal. He saved Pandora and the Acropolis, dethroned the Tyrant King Aragon, managed to defeat Pariah Dark in Single combat, and even became recognized as a Great Warrior by the Far Frozen.

After years of hiding, he actually felt more at home in the Ghost Zone than in the Human Realm. There he could be his true self without having to hide a huge part of his identity, and people accepted him for who he was. Sure he had enemies there, but he also had more real friends outside of Tucker and Sam.

He was content with his double life, acting as a Hero to the Public while hiding his true self, and secretly going to the Ghost Zone to be himself among his friends and even his enemies.

Of course it all came crashing down when he Anti Ecto Acts finally passed.

Now there was a Legal Path for Humans to enter and profit off of the Ghost Zone. Beyond just being able to legally kill and experiment on Ghosts, the Acts also allowed Humans to claim parts of the Ghost Zone as their own Property, enslaving the Ghosts residing there, and destroying the Ecosystem of the Zone because there were no laws preventing it.

And now Danny had a choice.

He could either side with the Humans to which he was a Hero, allowing them to destroy the Ghost Zone and Enslave the denizens living there with the full support of the Government, or he could side with the Ghost Zone, betraying Humanity and the people he had been protecting for years, but trying to save those who had accepted him for his true self years ago.

To him the answer was obvious.

[often-daydreaming]

An Ancient's Game

It started off small at first. A robbery in Metropolis. A missing persons case in Gotham. An 'accident' in Amity Park. None of it connected. Nobody thought to connect them. It was just another case after all. There would always be another case so sometimes things slipped through the cracks. It happened.

Even heroes made mistakes after all.

They overlooked things.

But in the end they messed up and someone had to pay and someone did when Clark Kent heard his wife and son’s heartbeats vanish off the face of the earth during a somewhat quiet afternoon while he was handling a disaster in France.

He was the man of steel though, he could have made it. He should have made it but he was a second too late. His family was gone and Metropolis felt the fury of the old gods as a being made of wind and storms ripped its way free of an unseen portal cackling with mad laughter as it devastated the city.

It was another distraction though.

A massive distraction that drew the Justice League's attention away from the real prize as nightmares descended on Gotham like shadows. They morphed from the darkness slipping out through the cracks like ghosts and only Oracle saw the fight as they swarmed the youngest Robin, the Dark Knight's youngest son vanishing under an endless tide of nightmares as Nocturn took control of Gotham's nightlife.

More distractions followed as more and more of the old gods, Ancient beings long forgotten returned to Earth.

Storms raged.

The ground quaked.

Creatures of myth and legend were free to run wild as reports of everything from dragons to even yetis flooded the Watchtower.

In the end it was Diana who found their first and only clue when one of her mother's messengers appeared warning them of Themyscira's fate when a portal was opened for Undergrowth deep within the island's jungles. They fought. They fell. Then they were turned into mindless puppets bent to the monster's will as the sounds of war subsided into silence within a matter of days.

Her losses gave them a name.

Undergrowth, a creature of the green who cheered the being known as Clockwork while Constantine explained its origin.

He told them of Cronos, of the pieces of him that had formed into a new life deep within the endlessness of Infinity.

And Fate opened the way.

The first thing the gathered heroes saw was a massive clocktower surrounded by gears and pistons twisting in every direction as they spilled out into an endless void. Each tenth of a second, the hands on the clocktower click one step forward.

A single tooth on one of the smaller gears is easily the size of the Watchtower and no matter how far anyone looked there was no beginning or end to the clocktower.

There was nothing except the click, click, click of endless clocks as they stormed the Titan's lair.

Nothing stopped them.

There were no enemies or traps.

In fact the doors were left wide open as if welcoming the Justice League inside and they soon discovered why when Shazam found them. Superboy stood on a scale across from Luthor, the same with Robin and Waller. They were frozen in time, trapped in a single second of a moment while in the very middle of the massive room was a kid, easily Jon's double sleeping on a throne made out of the void of space but that wasn't what had him worried.

What worried him was the silence, the sudden nothingness in his mind as the voices of the gods empowering him faded away in the presence of the cloaked figure of Cronos suddenly standing beside the throne.

Even as the other heroes flooded into the room he couldn't hear anything besides a soft click, click, click as Superman was waved away forced into a loop of repetition that began and ended with his first step forward.

Green Lantern fell next, rapidly aged into an old man unable to match a Titan's will.

Then Constantine collapsed clutching an invisible wound on his chest. It was his contracts forcing him to obey while Fate eventually faded under time's cold embrace.

There were only a few heroes left when Flash made a move blitzing the throne only to suddenly lose his speed. The others simply glitched, like static on an old tv leaving only Shazam, J'onn and surprisingly Lois Lane standing in front of Cronos as he declared a game to decide Earth's continued existence.

'Convince each of them you're worth another chance and I'll restore everything.'

'Who's them?'

I don't really know what I was going with here. I was just listening to some of the songs from Epic and figured why not let an enraged Clockwork have some fun. I'm blaming Vlad for everything cause I can and he's done it before and caused a ton of problems for everyone else so I'm just picturing something he did or tried to do backfiring badly enough that Danny got seriously hurt so now everyone's gotta pay.

[fairy-lights-and-blobs]

I have someone at like a story idea where Danny is like Princess Yue from Avatar last Airbender

Danny is the physical body for the ancient of space sometimes they just form in the infinite realms and get a physical body along with it and sometimes I just get an essence and have to wait till a body comes along to actually gain consciousness

Danny is that body but the idea is the Justice League is trying to make peace with the infinite realms and the council of ancients have decided let's do a deal we give you a the high Prince of the infinite rounds he stays with you for a month and if he comes back with good news of you humans we will not go to war with you

And the Justice League trying to keep peace agree they were not expecting to see a white hair teenager wearing a heavy layer traditional Komodo with a crown that has mini planets circling around his head to go along with the crown

And Frozen bits of Lazarus water floating around him to add to the exquisite that the boy carries himself with

Danny besides to base his personality off of Dora and princess Yue so no one can connect normal human Danny Fenton to High Prince Phantom Of The Infinite Realms Young Ancient Of Space

Also I just have to crack site of Danny looking at the Lazarus pits that the bats have in the cave because he's staying with them first and going it's a bit Rusty but I can work with it

Proceeding to use the Lazarus pits to make him a pair of pajamas or Danny acting like he doesn't know anything that much about the human world and it's just going along with most things

Danny Phantom acting like a Proper Prince from ancient times it doesn't understand modern teenage things just a mess with Justice League

The Justice League trying their best to appease to a teenager well also trying to stop the US government from starting a war that they will definitely not win

Oh boy, you had a real big brain time with this one :)

The Justice League had been tasked with temporary guardianship over Prince Phantom, Heir to the Throne of All, Steward of Stars.

Adored by the consciousness of the very Realm he will eventually rule over, it would fall upon Earth's best heroes to keep him safe for one entire month, and not a second less.

In exchange, loyal Halloween, also know as Fright Knight, and the King's armies wouldn't take action against Earth as a whole for the actions of one group falsely calling themselves government agents. "Let the Justice League actually deliver said Justice" had been the Prince's comment during a meeting of the Ancients. Before the Ancient Space had been through the cycle of rebirth this last time, there had been no heroes to protect the Living. Only their many divided leaders.

As Danny Fenton, they had caught whispers of the Bat on the rise, of a little Bird to follow after. Of a human, blessed by Hermes who always arrived on time. Of many, many more to follow, taking up arms to fight for Earth and her people, in defense of Justice. As Phantom, newborn half-ghost, and rising Ancient of Space, they heard of many departed souls that sang praises of the heroes, who forgave them for not making it in time, who were happy to have met their favorite before the embrace of Thanatos took them.

If this "Justice League" truly stood for Justice as they claimed, then Phantom would take a chance and trust them.

A week after the accord had been signed by the three leading members of the Justice League, Batman, Superman and Wonder Woman, gathered in a meeting room to welcome the arriving Prince and his Council.

The first sign was the way the temperature dropped, followed by the sygils painted on the wall by Constantine and Zatanna lighting up toxic green. Bleeding inwards in a lazy spiral, the glowing light swirled into a spinning rift between dimensions, out of which walked Firght Knight himself, settling to the side of the portal, and standing at attention, ready for the rest of the Council to appear.

As the light from the portal became a pale, icy blue, a hand in a white, claw-tipped glove appeared from the portal, the hand's owner following after it, while the loyal Knight moved to bring his elbow up, so Prince Phantom could grab it and let himself be led out of the portal. The fact that the Prince's Fright Knight rested his free hand against his side, instead of the pommel of his sword, was a good indicator that they expected Phantom to be welcomed and safe here. They would do their best to ensure their trust was not unfounded.

Upon first glance, as the ghost of the hour floated out of the portal, the most attention would be paid to the Crown that sat on the teenage-looking ghost's head, all iridescent metal with little miniature planets orbiting each spike.

The Prince looked around the room, evaluating each of the three League members present, almost silent, if not for the way his long,almost elfin ears twitched, making the chains attached to them jingle pleasantly, little galaxies hanging from the metal and swirling lazily. A quietly howling star filled the silence, until Phantom turned to chirp at the portal, calling in the rest of the Council to step forth.

Not all of the Ancients gathered, this time. For the handoff, only those that Phantom named as family would be present. Frostbite, Pandora, Lady Dorathea and Clockwork.

Frostbite, the Yeti and Pandora, Guardian of Hope, the main caretakers, as his parents. Clockwork, one Brother of Space, now Mentor and Grandfather. Dorathea, Cousin and confidante, who insisted that Danny arrive in the best fashion to be found in his Lair. And through all his past turns of the cycle of rebirth, Danny had accumulated fashions uncountable, for his Fraid to enjoy.

Today, Dora had insisted to dress him up in a black kimono, specifically the one that faded from black, to dark blue into pale icy blue. Snowflakes slowly fell all across the length of the cloth, turning a formal piece of attire into a moving art show, as snow fell in lazy patterns with each step Danny took.

"Batman. Superman. Wonder Woman. Thank you for your kind offer of hospitality while I remain in this Realm." A furry hand on his shoulder led Phantom to sit in the closest chair, thumb nudging gently against a freckled cheek in silent support as the Yeti almost glowed with pride for his boy.

"It is nice to see you well, Prince Phantom." Wonder Woman took the lead, as was the usual when discussions between the three main Justice League heroes involved the more divine or supernatural aspects of the world. "We have some ideas for who will host you for the duration of your time here, and were hoping you might give your opinion."

The plan was for, at least initially, to have Batman host their guest. Both Clark and Diana knew the Dark Knight of Gotham would be a better fit for a Prince's stay.

Clark, with his irregular schedule as a reporter and his sons, and Diana with her work as a museum curator, were both too busy to host him. Bruce, on the other hand, would have the space needed, the free schedule needed to care for a teenage royal, and, most importantly, other teenagers already in his care, to help the current youngest of the Ancients acclimate to the modern Era, and specifically the Gotham lifestyle.

One signed contract later, and Danny floated in front of the Zeta tubes, feeling the rumble of working machinery, the humming of electricity which Danny knew deep in his bones and Core, would always recognize what killed him in this life while keeping his face as neutral as possible.

Right now, Danny was just Prince Phantom, Heir to the Throne and Rising Ancient of Space. Fenton could take a break from his crazy parents and their fixation on ghosts, and Jazz didnt need to spend her entire day worrying about him and smothering him in affection.

Highly advanced machinery was an interest because it was new, not because he wants to take it apart and see what makes it tick.

Thus, misdirection in place, Danny's Core studied the signals coming from the portal frame, and the rift just beyond, waiting to open.

"Your Highness, are you ready to go?" Ah, that would be Batman, standing at his side and watching him. He sounded...soft. The ghosts of Gotham always spoke of how soft Batman was towards children and, Ancient or not, right now Danny was, for all intents and purposes, a teenager.

A dead teenager, and that was bound to tug at the Bat's heart.

So, with a big smile, and big, curious eyes, Danny turned to face the Dark Knight and curtsied just as Dora had taught him to.

"I am indeed ready. I wonder what kind of home Gotham's favorite Knight lives in!"

"Before we leave, I should tell you, there will be others there. My children are a chaotic bunch, but they will be curious about you."

"Of course, no Bat is truly complete without his colony. You speak of them with pride. I will trust your judgement. So long as no one asks me how I died, or anything too personal, I won't take offense to being questioned by your children."

Stepping through the now active Zeta Tube set all of Danny's ectoplasmic nerves on end for a second, a slight feeling of too much settling in his bones at the difference between this and the portal that had brought him to the Watchtower.

Stepping out of the Zeta, Danny shook the pins and needles from his hands, blinked at the lighting change, and stepped into...a dark cave, full of very advanced tech that his inner Fenton pitched to get their hands on, and several small fluffy bats chittering above, watching the newcomer with judgemental eyes for a few seconds. Chirping a greeting at the gathering of eyes settled their agitation.

Clearly, good manners worked with Bats of all kinds.

"This way, Prince Phantom." Distracted by the Bats above, Danny had missed Batman ducking into a changing room and walking out as Bruce Wayne, Beloved Prince of Gotham, and all around Himbo Dad.

Mimicking Fright Knight previously, Bruce held his own arm up so Danny could hold onto it as he was guided to an elevator out of the Cave. He even pretended to stumble just slightly over the step out of the platform, looking around at the actually quite cozy but also really big office the elevator doors opened into.

"I thought people didn't live in castles anymore? Is the Knight of Gotham the exception?"

The eye roll and fond sigh had Danny cheering internally. The man DOES have a sense of humor! Not a fruit loop, after all!

Maybe this will be a fun little vacation.

Maybe, just maybe, Danny can hope that the GIW problem will be resolved, and he won't have to go to war against the Living...

Perched in the rafters above and spying on her dad and the pretty boy they'll be hosting, Cassandra Wayne almost stumbles at the sheer force of the sudden Hope-Glad-please don't be a dream that blankets the entire Wayne manor.

[doumadono]

Warnings: pure angst, graphic descriptions of injuries, pregnancy mention, Dabi spiraling into madness while consumed entirely by his thirst for vengeance, a lot of sadness

Synopsis: after the Final War leaves Dabi on the brink of death, you remain by his side, pouring out your love and revealing the secret you never had the chance to share with him before

A/N: this fic was written as my contribution to the weekly challenge in @candycandy00 community ♥

MY HERO ACADEMIA MASTERLIST - PART II

The air around him was heavy with the scent of ash and smoke.

You stood there, watching as he flicked his fingers, a tiny blue flame flickering to life and dancing across his scarred skin. It illuminated the deep lines and cracks that marred his face, each one a story, each one a wound that had never healed. 

His hair was white now - ghostly, almost - and it only made the darkness in his eyes stand out more. He didn’t look at you. Instead, he stared at the flame as if it held all the answers, as if he could burn away everything that had brought him to this moment.

"Why does it always have to be this way?" your voice was trembling, and you were barely holding back the tears that threatened to spill. “Why does it have to be you?”

Dabi didn’t answer immediately. He tilted his head slightly, and the light from the flame cast eerie shadows across his face. Finally, he let out a low chuckle, one that held no joy, only bitterness. "You know why," he muttered, his tone void of any hope. "This was always how it was going to end."

You took a step closer, reaching out with trembling hands, desperate to touch him, to feel the warmth that had always been just out of reach. "You don’t have to do this," you whispered, almost pleading. "You don’t have to go. Please. I care about you. You can’t leave me behind like that.”

He finally turned around, his eyes meeting yours. The flame on his fingertip flared, and the moment was gone, replaced by the icy detachment he wore like a second skin. "And then what?" he asked, tilting his head, his voice barely more than a whisper. "What happens then? I walk away? Pretend these scars aren’t there? Pretend I can forgive? They took everything from me, and they’re going to pay for that."

“Touya…” You dared to use his real name, hoping, praying it would be enough to reach him, to make him stop this madness.

"Don’t," he snapped back. "Don’t call me that. He’s dead. He’s been dead for a long time." He took a step closer, and the heat emanating from his body was already suffocating, but you refused to move, refused to let him push you away. “I’m Dabi now. That’s all there is.”

“No,” you choked out, shaking your head furiously, tears finally spilling over, tracing paths down your flushed cheeks. “You’re more than that. You’ve always been more than that. I’ve seen it. I’ve seen you…”

“You’ve seen what I wanted you to see,” he interrupted. 

The dim light of the cave cast shadows that made him look monstrous, and yet, all you could see was the boy he used to be, the boy who had wanted to be a hero. “You can’t save me. No one can,” Dabi added, his voice a tone softer, and it broke your heart because it was the truth he had resigned himself to.

You reached for him, grabbing his wrist, ignoring the searing heat that pulsed beneath your fingers. “I don’t want to save you,” you whispered. “I just want you to stay. Just… stay.”

Dabi’s eyes softened, just for a moment, and you thought, maybe, maybe there was a chance. But then he smiled - a smile so broken, tired, and filled with a sorrow so deep it threatened to swallow you whole. “You deserve better than a monster covered in scars,” he murmured, and your heart shattered.

"I don’t want better," you said, voice shaking. "I want you, Dabi."

He leaned in, and for a heartbeat, you thought he might kiss you, but instead, he rested his forehead against yours. “I wish I could be that for you,” he breathed, his voice barely more than a ghost of a sound. “I really do.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, as if that would keep him here, as if that would stop him from slipping away. “Then stay.” You shot your hands to wrap them around his waist, and you stood there, holding him tightly.

But when you opened your eyes again, he had pulled away. He took a step back, then another, until there was nothing but shadows separating you. “Goodbye,” he uttered, and it wasn’t just a word - it was a death sentence, for both of you.

And as he walked away, the sound of his footsteps fading into the darkness, all you could do was stand there, surrounded by the cold emptiness he left behind, the echo of his final words burning hotter than any flame.

You stood frozen in front of the flickering television screen in your apartment, the world around you fading into nothingness as the battle raged on, as the flames you had once held so tenderly now roared and consumed everything in their wake. It was pure chaos - heroes and villains clashing in a storm of power and destruction, but all you could see was him.

Dabi stood at the center of it all, white hair whipping around his face like the ashes of a funeral pyre. His flames blazed with an intensity that seemed to consume the very air around him, radiating a brightness so fierce that, for a fleeting moment, he appeared almost ethereal - like a dying star caught in its last throes, desperate to leave a mark before being extinguished forever. But then you saw the pain etched into his features, the way his body trembled, the way his flames wavered, and it hit you all over again - how much he was hurting himself, how much this was costing him.

“Touya, please,” you whispered, voice cracking, as if he could hear you through the screen, as if your words could somehow reach him across the distance. “Please, stop.”

But he didn’t stop. He couldn’t, and you knew it well. You watched, heart splintering with every second that passed, as he unleashed everything he had against his family - the people who had made him, who had scarred him, who had broken him beyond repair. You watched as his flames collided with the ice of his mother and brothers, with the desperate defenses of his father, and all you could do was stand there, powerless to stop the destruction that unfolded.

Tears blurred your vision, and you sank to your knees, clutching at your chest as if you could somehow hold yourself together, as if you could somehow stop the pieces of your heart from crumbling to dust. “Please,” you sobbed, your voice a strangled whisper, “Please, don’t leave me…”

The news anchors were talking - describing the devastation, the violence, the destruction - but you couldn’t hear them. All you could hear was the sound of your own heartbeat, pounding in your ears like a death knell, as you watched him burn to his demise, as you watched him fight and bleed and scream, and you felt it - the scars he left on your heart tearing wider, deeper, with every moment that passed.

And then, you saw it.

“No…” The word tore itself from your throat, and you didn’t even realize you were screaming, didn’t realize you were clawing at the screen as if you could somehow reach through it, as if you could somehow pull him back, keep him from slipping away. “No, no, no!”

His body lay still, the blue flames around him flickering weakly, as if they, too, were struggling to hold on. The camera zoomed in, capturing every agonizing detail, and you felt your heart constrict, a scream dying in your throat as you took in the full extent of his wounds.

His skin - what little remained - was cracked and charred, blackened to the bone in places where the flames had devoured him. The once-pale flesh hung in shreds, peeled back to reveal raw, bloodied muscle, and patches of bone that jutted out grotesquely. His right arm was gone, and he was reduced to little more than a skeleton covered with scraps of burnt tissue. Where the flesh had burned away entirely, you could see the tendons and ligaments clinging to his bones, frayed and broken, hanging on by threads.

His ribs, twisted and scorched, pressed against the paper-thin skin of his chest, the bones visible through what remained of the flesh that had once protected him. Each ragged breath he took caused them to rise and fall in sharp, jerky movements, and you could see how parts of the bone were cracked, splintered, as if they might snap with the slightest bit of pressure. His spine, scorched black, protruded from his back, the vertebrae exposed, skeletal.

His face was nearly unrecognizable, a twisted mask of agony and destruction. The skin around his mouth and eyes was entirely gone, leaving only the exposed muscles and tendons. His lips were cracked, blackened, and torn, revealing teeth that were stained red with blood. The left side of his face had burned down to the bone, the flames having stripped away everything, leaving behind nothing but a charred, skeletal visage that made him look more like a corpse than a man.

Blood seeped from countless wounds, dripping from him in a slow, steady stream, pooling beneath his ruined body. It mingled with the ash, the remnants of his own flesh, turning the ground around him into a grotesque, crimson mud. 

Yet still, somehow, his chest moved - barely, but it did - his lungs rattling with each shallow, ragged breath, fighting for every ounce of air as if he could refuse the darkness that threatened to swallow him whole.

The sight of him - broken, burned, reduced to this fragile state - was more than you could bear.

You couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t do anything but stare, paralyzed by the sight of him lying there, so small, so broken, and all you could think was, “I wasn’t there. I wasn’t there to stop him.”

You didn’t remember moving. One moment, you were on the floor, and the next, you were running, stumbling out of your apartment and into the chaos of the city, the smoke and screams and sirens drowning out the world around you. You didn’t care. You didn’t care about the danger, didn’t care about the warnings blaring from every television and radio and phone. All you knew was that he was out there, dying, and you had to reach him. You had to be there, if only to tell him that he wasn’t alone.

You reached the barricades, the line of heroes holding back the civilians, and you fought against them, desperate, frantic, screaming his name over and over until your voice gave out, until your throat was raw and bleeding, and still, you pushed forward. “Please,” you begged, clawing at them with all the strength you had left. “Please, I need to get there!”

“We can’t let you there, ma’am, the battle is still on and it’s dangerous…”

But you refused to listen, refused to believe it. You clawed your way past them, pushing a few people violently aside, slipping through the gaps, ignoring the shouts and hands that tried to hold you back, ignoring the pain that throbbed with every step, ignoring the scorching pain within your calves that seemed to slow you down to the point you were barely moving forward. All you knew was that you had to reach him. You had to see him, even if one last time.

And then you were there, standing over him, staring down at the body of the man you loved, and for a moment, the world fell silent. You collapsed to your knees beside him, your hands hovering over his broken form, afraid to touch him, afraid that he would crumble into ashes beneath your fingers. 

His family lay nearby, battered and broken, their bodies bearing the scars of the battle that had nearly consumed them all, just as it had consumed him.

“Touya,” you whispered, and his name felt like a blade slicing through you, sharp and unyielding. You reached out, brushing trembling fingers against the cracked, burned skin of his cheek, and it was so cold, so impossibly cold. 

There was no answer. There would probably never be an answer. As you cradled his head in your lap, the reality of his condition struck you like a blow. What you held wasn't the man you loved anymore - it was a skull, stripped of nearly all the flesh that had once made him human. The skin around his cheeks and jaw had burned away, leaving only the bare bone, cracked and blackened, exposed to the world. His eye sockets, once bright and full of life, now seemed hollow and lifeless, the remaining fragments of skin stretched tightly over his brow. Every part of him felt fragile, delicate, as if the slightest touch might cause him to crumble into dust in your hands. And still, you leaned down, pressing your forehead against his exposed skull, sobs wracking your body, as you whispered words of love and apology, hoping somehow, some part of him could still feel you. You whined silently when you felt the ragged, faint breath that still fought to escape his lungs, and you knew - these were the scars that would never heal, the wounds that would lead him straight to his demise.

And all you could do was hold him, whispering the words you had never been able to say before, hoping, praying that somehow, some way, he could still hear you. “I’m here,” you whispered, your voice breaking, “I’m here, Touya. I’m here, and you’re not alone.”

The hospital room was cold, sterile, and far too quiet. 

You stood there, barely able to breathe, as you took in the sight of him - the man you loved, the man who had burned so brightly, now trapped within the confines of a life support system. His body was completely bound, encased in a mass of wires, tubes, and bandages that covered every inch of him. He was barely recognizable, and the sight made your heart shatter all over again.

All that remained visible were his eyes and his jaw - the only parts of him restored after the destruction he had inflicted on himself, and everything and everyone around him. His eyes stared blankly ahead.

You took a tentative step forward, your hands trembling as you reached out to touch the glass that separated you from him. “Touya…” you whispered, your voice barely more than a breath. It was surreal, seeing him like this, as if the world had paused and left you in this agonizing limbo. “I’m here.”

The faint, rhythmic beeping of the machines was the only response you got, and it cut through you like a knife. You swallowed back the tears, your fingers pressing harder against the glass, as if you could somehow reach through it, as if you could somehow pull him back to you.

���They said you wouldn’t make it,” you joked nervously, your eyes never leaving his. “They said you were too far gone. But you fought, didn’t you? You fought, and you’re still here.”

His eyes shifted, focusing on you with a clarity that made your heart skip a beat. Slowly, painfully, you saw his jaw twitch, and then, in a voice so faint, so weak, you almost thought you were imagining it, he spoke. “Why are you still here?” His voice was barely a whisper, raspy and broken, but it was his. 

“I couldn’t leave you,” the words trembled out of your lips, thick with unshed tears. “I couldn’t let this be the end. Not like this.”

He tried to laugh, but it came out as a painful wheeze, his jaw tightening as he winced. “You shouldn’t have… I’m not… worth it.”

“How dare you?” you snapped, the words tearing from you with the force of a scream. “How dare you say that after everything? After everything we went through? How can you say you’re not worth it?!”

His eyes closed briefly, and when they opened again, they were filled with something you hadn’t seen in so long - something that looked like fear. “I ruined… everything.”

The words slipped out, fragile and trembling, as tears spilled over, leaving hot trails down your flushed cheeks. “You didn’t ruin what we had. You just… you got lost. But you’re still here. You’re still mine.”

He shook his head slightly, his breath coming in ragged gasps, and you could see the agony etched into every piece of his uncovered face. “I can’t be saved.”

“I’m not here to save you,” you remarked fiercely, pressing harder against the glass, as if you could somehow reach him. “I’m here because I love you. I’m here because I couldn’t walk away. And because…” You hesitated, your heart pounding, the weight of your secret threatening to crush you. “Because there’s something you need to know.”

His gaze sharpened, confusion flickering in those eyes you had loved so much, the eyes that had once been so full of life. “What is it?”

Swallowing hard, a trembling hand drifted to the curve of your abdomen as you forced the words out, each one a dagger plunging deeper into your heart. “I’m pregnant,” you confessed, voice quivering. “I found out right before you left. I tried to tell you, but you didn’t want to listen to me.”

The silence that followed was deafening, and for a moment, you thought he hadn’t heard, that your words hadn’t reached him. But then the steady beep of his heart rate monitor began to spike, echoing frantically in the small room as his pulse rose. And then you saw it - a tear slipping down his bandaged cheek, his mouth opening and closing, as if he were trying to speak but couldn’t find the words. “No…” he rasped, his voice shaking. “Why didn’t you tell me…?”

“Because you didn’t listen!” you cried, your voice breaking. “You wouldn’t stop! I tried to make you stay, but you were so consumed with your pain, fury and vengeance, and I couldn’t save you from that.”

“I failed you,” Touya whispered, his voice cracking, and it was the most vulnerable you had ever seen him, the man who had once stood unflinching before the world, now reduced to this broken, shattered soul. “I failed our family.”

“No,” you stated, shaking your head furiously, the glass cool against your forehead as you pressed closer, desperate to be near him, to make him understand. “You didn’t fail. You can still come back. You can still fight. For me. For us.”

“I’m too tired,” he burbled, and his eyes drifted closed, his chest rising and falling with the effort of breathing, each inhale a struggle, each exhale a battle. “I don’t want to hurt… anymore.”

You let out a broken sob, your shoulders shaking, your fingers splayed against the glass as if you could somehow hold him together, keep him from slipping away. “Then don’t,” you begged. “Don’t leave me, don’t leave us. Stay, Touya. Please, stay. I need you. Our baby needs you.”

His eyes flickered open one last time. “I love you,” Touya breathed, the words barely more than a breath, but they were there, they were real, and they seared themselves into your soul.

And then, just like that, his eyes closed, and his breathing evened out, and you were left standing there, holding onto the glass, holding onto him, as the machines continued their relentless, mechanical rhythm. He drifted off yet again. His body was so exhausted he could only speak for a couple minutes per day before reaching his limit.

And all you could do was choke out, “I love you too, Touya. We love you so much,”" although you recognized that he had succumbed to unconsciousness and was beyond the reach of your voice.

[too-much-tma-stuff]

This Isn't the First Time (Part 16)

Prev | Masterpost | Next

By the time Danny got back everyone else was in uniform, he transformed back, already in his Hyena garb and pulled the weapons Jason had asked for out of his chest to hand them over. 

“What? How did you do that?” Nightwing asked, looking shocked and disturbed.

“I can turn intangible so I can turn my entire body into a pocket basically, it’s pretty handy. Now we should get going shouldn’t we? It sounded like there was a real emergency?” Hyena asked, looking around at the other costumed heroes and Tim nodded and started typing on his wrist computer. 

“Right, they have a threat from the Infinite Realms, a powerful one from the way Constantine is freaking out. There’s some uncertainty about how exactly the threat came about, the JLD tracks natural portals and there have been no energy signatures that would suggest anyone entering our world.

“The timing is a bit odd as well, since the JL just arranged a meeting with the leaders of the GIW. We suspect they might have already had this being captive and released them to try and garner sympathy or paint ghosts in a bad light to justify their actions. So far we have managed to contain the threat but we don’t have anything capable of actually defeating them, and it seems like neither do the GIW, not that we’d really let them try.

“More info will be provided on the Watchtower where I believe they have video footage. None of the younger teams have been called in as of yet.” Robin said, closing the holographic screen again and looking up at the gathered suits. “Are we ready?”

“Yep, let’s go,” Jason said, grabbing Danny’s hand. Tim nodded and led the way through the Zeta-tube, Nightwing bringing up the rear this time. Danny didn’t have to be dragged quite as much as last time, it seemed like going through twice already had helped break him out of his initial fear. 

The core members of the Justice league were already present, along with Zatana, Constantine again, and Deadman. Deadman stood when he saw Danny, and made an aborted gesture Jason couldn’t quite decipher, but thought might have been a bow, before Danny gave an inhuman chittering hiss and Deadman stopped. He looked startled and confused but he sat back down after staring at Danny for a moment. Hyena’s shoulders slumped a little and he gave the ghost an appreciative nod before all of them took the seats that had been left open for them on one side of the table. 

“Thank you for coming,” Batman rumbled at them, standing up from his seat. “I’m sure Robin already shared the info I sent him?” Hyena and Hood nodded. “Good, we don’t have much more information than that. We have some footage but it’s heavily corrupted, which Constantine says is fairly normal for ghosts?” He glanced at Hyena, who nodded. “They are contained for now, and aren’t trying as hard as expected to escape. They’re demanding someone come fight them and seem willing to wait for now.

“The plan is that-”

“No plan needed,” Hyena said with a dismissive little wave. “I’ll go in, engage them and lure them away from population centers and give them the fight they want. I have a feeling I know who it is anyway, he talks a big game but he’s not actually that much trouble. I’ve been dealing with these things since I was a teenager and for all Amity Park was scared of me there were no casualties under my watch, you can check. I can handle this.”

“Hmph,” Batman sounded, frowning at them. “That may be but I insist that-”

“Nope, I’m not used to fighting with anyone else. Anyone mortal would be a liability. If you insist you can call Phantasm.” Hyena rolled his eyes at Batman, who scowled back. 

“Fine,” He grumbled. “Robin would you mind-”

“Already doing it,” Tim interrupted, who was indeed already texting on a phone no one had seen him pull out. Batman sighed at them.

“Alright if that’s settled, what about our fee?” Red Hood spoke up. Everyone looked shocked, even Hyena, Jason hadn’t gotten a chance to talk to him about this because he hadn’t expected them to be called in so soon. Jason knew that Danny would have helped without any payment, he was that sort of person, but Jason didn’t fucking feel like helping these people. And he also knew that Danny would back him up regardless. 

“What do you mean?” Batman asked, eyes narrowed. 

“Well we’re not heroes are we? You can’t expect us to help just because it's the right thing to do,” Jason said with a smirk clear in his voice. 

Danny seemed to pick up what he was saying and grinned, he got up from his seat and draped himself across the back of Jason’s seat, showing he was behind Jason in this. He didn’t say anything, letting Jason handle the talking, but showing that he was there, and reminding everyone he wouldn’t actually help if Red Hood didn’t agree.

“Red Hood this is not appropriate behaviour. This is your world too,” Batman scolded and Jason rolled his eyes. 

“Ya, which is why we’re here, taking time outta our lives to help with this. But we have a skill set you don’t and I think since we’re not exactly part of your little club, and you’re going to get the credit for saving the world, we should get something out of this,” Jason said, leaning back in his chair. 

“We’re helping disband the GIW!” Superman pointed out indignantly. 

“And what? If we don’t help you you’ll let them keep torturing sentient beings? Nah, you’re the good guys,” Jason huffed. “I was thinking half a million would be reasonable, hm? I know that Brucie Wayne funds y’all so you must have the cash and for Hyena’s power-set I think that’s a pretty damn good deal!”

“Hood I know you’re upset with me right now but this is not how I raised you,” Batman said and Jason felt the pit roil within him at the mention. He stood up abruptly. “You don’t need the money, you can do the right thing.” 

“You did not raise me, I spent 3 years with you before I died in the line of duty at 16. I don’t owe you Shit.”

“I’m sorry about what happened to you but you went off on your own. It’s no one’s fault but-”

“Shut up! I didn’t blame you for not saving me, I know I went off on my own,” Jason’s fists were clenched and trembling, green was wavering at the edges of his vision. “That’s not what this is about and you know it!”

“Isn’t it?” Bruce asked, staring at Jason levelly. 

“You always think you know everything but you don’t fucking know me anymore. I’m doing this because I want to, it has nothing to do with you!” Jason insisted, blood already rushing in his ears. He needed to calm down, he needed- A familiar hand landed on his shoulder and before Jason could even think he was flinching away from the touch and lashing out. 

He struck Danny hard enough that he was sent stumbling back, catching himself on the chair again. Everything froze, and everything was quiet as Danny closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. He pushed himself away from the chair and approached Jason again, holding out his hands placatingly. “We don’t have time for your anger right now, Boo. Go for a walk and calm down, I’ll handle this, and we can handle your anger together in private.” 

Jason froze, staring at Danny and still breathing heavily, he hadn’t even been aware he was standing up, when had he stood up? What was going on. Guilt was already building in him, though it couldn’t quite overcome the anger the Pit was forcing into his mind. He nodded sharply and turned away, leaving the room. 

Danny took another deep breath and then sat down in Jason’s chair, ignoring the ache on his face. That one wouldn’t heal as quickly as usual he knew, the emotional wound of being struck in front of Jason’s family, his friends, would stop the physical injury from healing at first. He tried to ignore it and move on though, he understood and he didn’t blame Jason, if anything he blamed Batman for upsetting Jason so much. Especially since what he was asking for was reasonable, at least from multi billionaire Bruce Wayne.

“So, back to what we were talking about,” Hyena said, opening his eyes again.

“Absolutely not! We can’t just move past that!” Nightwing interrupted. Danny winced and glanced over at the other two he’d come with, Nightwing looked incensed, Tim looked like he was too shocked to speak.

“It’s not a big deal, he has a hard time controlling his anger and I’ll heal. The threat is more important right now,” Danny tried to deflect again.

“This is not the first time he’s hit you,” Batman stated, leaning forward and propping his elbows against the table. Danny looked back at him, unsure of how to respond. “I keep an ear out for the rumours in the underground, he’s only hit you in front of people a couple of times, but they say sometimes after he calls you into his office they can hear him beating you.”

“Our relationship is none of your business!” Hyena snarled at Batman. 

“None of our business! Hyena we’re your friends,” Nightwing cut in, holding both hands towards his chest. “If you’re being abused we want to help! It doesn’t matter that he’s our family, if he’s hurting you then-”

“Shut up! You don’t know anything about our relationship. He’s not abusing me, I can handle this myself,” Danny snapped at Dick. He could feel his own eyes starting to glow green, even though he had better control of his anger he had his limits too. He couldn’t give in to his own anger now though, he needed to handle this. 

Unnoticed, Deadman left the room, slipping out through the wall unseen. He wasn’t going to be here when Hyena snapped, he was not going to be part of this ill advised lecture. 

“Dick is right, it doesn’t matter how powerful you are, when someone you love hurts you, and you don’t want to hurt them back it’s easy to just let it happen. But that doesn’t mean it’s right,” Batman told him, calm and soft, so much differently than he had talked to Danny at first. Next to Batman Constantine was trying to distract him, making a cut it out gesture that everyone in the room was ignoring.

“Shut up! At first you were after me for controlling him, and now you’ve done a 180 and you think he’s abusing me? Why can’t we just have a good relationship that makes us both happy!” Danny insisted furiously. 

“Think he’s abusing you? Hyena, he hit you in front of us! Him abusing you isn’t in question, you shouldn’t defend him!” Superman cut in, looking horrified. 

“Enough!” Danny snarled and stood up, his humanity falling away from him as he slammed his now clawed hands down on the table, the metal ripping under his claws. The temperature in the room dropped and frost raced across the surface in unnatural geometric patterns. Green glowing pits replaced his eyes in the stark skull as he glared down at Batman and Superman. Next to them Constantine fainted as the power in the room overwhelmed his senses, crashing to the floor with an unimpressive little groan. 

“I will hear no more of this!If you don’t need my help I will go home with my lover. If you do need my help I will accept a favour in return from Batman or Superman, I don’t care which. Once you have agreed to my favour and told me the coordinates of the threat, I will deal with it,” Hyena hissed furiously.

“Fine, we do need your help, but this isn’t the end of this discussion Hyena,” Batman sighed and stood up. “A favour for a favour,” He agreed. He hesitated when Danny held out his hand, but Constantine wasn’t conscious enough to tell him no, so he shook Danny’s hand. Green flame erupted around their hands and Danny’s skeletal grin widened as he stared Batman down. 

“Good, now tell me where to go,” Hyena demanded, and as soon as learned the location he vanished, leaving a heavy silence behind him in the room.

“I’m very glad the rest of Young Justice wasn’t here to see that. No one tells Phantasm,” Tim broke the silence.

--------

Danny flew towards the threat, he thought it was just Skulker, which was honestly a shame because it had been so long since he had a good fight. Jason was doing a good job helping him control his anger but he would like something to really take his aggression out on, and humans were just far too squishy. He just wanted to get this fight over with as quickly as possible so that he could go home, he was tired and he needed to be held.

As he got closer he didn’t need to pay attention to the coordinates, he could feel the nearby energy signature of a ghost shield and just follow that. On the way there he came across one of the JL’s camera drones, probably this far away because this was the closest it could get without the ecto fucking it up. 

He laughed to himself and dropped his invisibility, swooping around in front of it and grabbing the drone. He poured ecto into it while it shook and whirred. He didn’t stop until its mechanisms were covered in the stuff and the machine was gently glowing. 

“Heeey,” He said, waving his hand in front of the lens, knowing the JL was probably watching now. “I fixed this one so that it can properly see ghosts, and there’s a 50/50 chance it’s going to gain a little bit of sentience now. You’re welcome that you can be nosy, sorry if it starts getting the other cameras to unionize.” He patted the camera and then swooped away with the drone following quickly after him now.

The bubble of the ghost shield came into view, and when Danny first saw the hulking outline contained within he thought that he was right about it being Skulker. He sighed and swooped down closer he heard them shouting. 

“Come on out, pipsqueak!” A familiar voice roared. “We have a score to settle!”

Danny felt a hysterical laugh bubbling out of his throat and he let it out, cackling as he swooped down and hit the burrier with both fists, dispelling it with a crackling burst of energy. “Damn Dan I never thought I would be happy to see you!” Danny laughed as Dan spun to face him and rocketed up into the air to meet him. It seemed like he was going to be getting the fight he wanted after all! Danny barely recognized the excitement he felt about that but he did not want to examine it, especially not right now.

 “There you are!” Dan crowed before pausing for a moment, looking Danny up and down. “Damn you changed, grew some too. How long was I out?”

“Five years, why does it matter?” Danny asked, rolling his eyes.

“Because you locked me up, asshole!” Dan yelled. 

“And?! You deserved it! Now shut the fuck up and attack me, I have some anger to work out,” Danny snarled, slamming one fist into his opposite palm. 

“I’ll show you anger you Punk!” Dan flew at Danny, who didn’t bother to dodge, meeting Dan half way.

Ice met fire in a hiss of conflicting temperatures as Danny used the momentum to roll them both over and shoved Dan down into the ground with a muted thump and a fairly impressive crater. Danny pushed himself off and shot away, away from the ground and the human population. The atmosphere would probably be the safest place to have this fight. 

“Come back here you twerp!” Dan snarled and pushed off the ground as well, chasing after Danny just as quickly. Somewhere behind them Danny could hear whirring as the JL drone struggled to keep them in view. He hoped that they were enjoying the show, and he wondered if Constantine was awake again by now. It was too bad Danny wouldn’t get to see his face when he found out Batman had agreed to owe Danny a favour! He was going to blow a bloodvessel, a thought that made him laugh again.

“What’s so fucking funny!?” Dan demanded as he caught up and grabbed Danny’s ankle, swinging him around and threw him back. Well, they were far enough up that this would do just fine as an arena for their fight. 

“Oh I’m just thinking about how much stronger I’ve gotten since the last time we fought. This is going to be fun,” Danny said before he shot towards Dan to bring the fight to him.

[clockwayswrites]

This is not me writing Danny meeting someone special.

Masterpost WC: 1114

Danny looked from the scribbled address on on the slip of paper and back up to the building in front of him. The addresses matched, but Danny couldn’t help but feel like something was wrong about it. Yes, it looked like a gym shaped building, but all the windows were blacked out and there as no sign. Yes, there were a few people going in and out looking ready for a work out, but the way the pair lingering on the stoop were looking at him made the hairs on the back of Danny’s neck stand up.

Still, so far at least, Jason had only been helpful and kind to him— more than kind. Danny had clothing because of him. Danny didn’t think the other would have sent him into some sort of a trap. Besides, if Jason had wanted to do something nefarious there had been plenty of other opportunities. Danny squared his shoulders and headed up to the building.

He was halted by a large hand on his chest from one of the pair at the door. Danny had to stop himself from pushing it off.

“Whatcha need?”

“Ah, um, Jason told me to come here at this time? He thinks I need self defense lessons and said he set up someone to teach me?”

“Name?”

“Danny.”

The guy looked Danny over before giving a nod. “Yeah. Go on in. You can’t miss who you’re supposed to meet.”

“Okay,” Danny said, doubtfully, but slipped in the door that the other guy (goon? Were these goons?) was holding open.

It just looked like a gym inside. There were weight machines and treadmills. A boxing ring dominated the middle of the room and mats took up a lot of the rest of the space. The back of the building was divided off into rooms that Danny assume were showers and lockers. Someone to his right was bench pressing what Danny felt like was an impressive amount, but what did he know.

Everyone in the building looked like they could kick some real ass— muscled or fit in a dangerously wiry way. Most of them were looking at him. So he didn’t have a lot of muscles, sue him, being a ghost hero didn’t exactly help him build up the bulk. The goon out front said he couldn’t miss…

The bright red helmet caught his eye. The figure wearing it was impressively broad and dressed so that not a sliver of skin was showing past the black and brown outfit. Danny couldn’t really tell, not with the way the eyes of the helmet were whited out, but that the person was staring right at him. It was almost like…

Oh. That was Jason.

Danny didn’t know how he knew, but Danny knew that person wearing the helmet was Jason.

Why didn’t Jason just tell him he was meeting him? What was with the helmet—

Holy shit.

That was Red Hood.

Jason was Red Hood.

Jason had a secret identity and Danny had just figured it out.

Well, fuck.

Danny took a deep breath and headed over towards him. He stopped several feet away and for a long moment they just stared at each other (or at least Danny thought Jason was staring at him).

“You Danny?” Jason— Red Hood— asked.

Because apparently they were doing this whole secret identity thing.

Which… to be fair, Danny shouldn’t be able to tell. Jason did a good job of disguising it. Jason was a big person, but Red Hood looked like a fucking tank. Red Hood even stood in a more imposing way— feet braced, shoulders pulled back, a king looking over his kingdom. It was different than the way Jason, while wary in that way everyone in a big city like Gotham was, still seemed relaxed and approachable.

The sheer power that Jason exclude as Red Hood was honestly a little sexy.

Which was a road Danny did not need to go down. Nope. He cleared his throat and rocked back on his heels. Act natural, Danny. “Yep! Jason sent me here? He’s worried I’m going to get stabbed or something.”

Wow Jason was really a lot less expressive as Red Hood. Sure, there was the helmet, but it was more than that. Jason would have shook his head at that, body slumping slightly. Red Hood just watched. It was interesting.

“You were mugged.” Even his accent was slightly different.

“Yep.”

The silence stretched out again. Okay, apparently he needed to say more than that? It was weird being on the other side of the secret identity business. “But I’m fine! I didn’t get hurt and I knocked the guy unconscious. But now Jason’s worried about me.”

You’re worried bout me, Danny thought. Enough to bring him to meet the alter ego and risk him connecting the dots. Huh, Jason really was worried about him. This was no small favor like he played it off as. Even if Jason hadn’t been Red Hood, this would be a huge favor because this was Red Hood and he was being asked to give Danny self defense lessons. Okay, Danny could work with that.

“And I don’t want to, like, get in the way of your business so if it’s easier I can just go—”

“Get on the mats and start stretching,” Red Hood ordered. His voice was harsh through the modulation of the helmet.

“Sir, yes sir,” Danny chirped.

It turned out, he did not know how to stretch properly. Red Hood has a lot to say about that and a lot of corrections to make, nudging Danny with his steel toed boot or pressing with his gloved hand. Danny pondered over the complete lack of skin showing.

It was a really extreme way to go about it. A little skin wouldn’t have given Jason away, so it must be more than that. Was it for Jason’s own good? To have that complete separation of appearance between them. Jason was Jason but Red Hood was Red Hood- they didn’t even share skin.

Danny could get that.

Whoops, he needed to focus up, it was time to spar. And okay, they were getting right into it apparently. Show Hood what he could do, right. He could—

Danny was flat on his back, half across the mats before he could blink.

So maybe he couldn’t. But Ancients if that didn’t give him the same rush as his early ghost fights. He was out classed and unskilled and Red Hood wanted him to know that. But Danny had been there before and he had won. No ghost fucked with him now.

Danny twisted to his feet and grinned. Oh it was on.

-----

AN: Not actually 100% sold on this part yet, but I think jumping to Jason's POV and seeing Danny go a little feral might sell it for me. Maybe a little overlap in timeline from Danny saying 'sir, yes sir'.

I think I'm starting to care too much about this fic, which is dangerous, so I'll prob jump to somewhere else in the story next to keep things loose! Now what will that be...

I'm no longer tagging people due to the new post editor and being shadow banned (likely for tagging), so go here to subscribe to be notified!

[poppy-s-rampage]

Once a Hero.

Chapter 1: Too late!

Warnings: Blood, Gore and violence. You can't sue me now!

‐-------------------------

Prologue| Masterpost| Chapter 2!

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

The Master of time leaned over the unmoving form of his young protegee, forceps needle and thread in hands. The old ghost deftly redid the stitches on the youngest torso. Slowly but surely closing the jagged ‘Y’ shaped wound shut.

‘How did it come to this?’

All it took was one minute of inattention for the young Halfa's timeline to be put in jeopardy. In a single moment of inattention, Daniel’s timeline tangled with another stray unstable one and merged. By the time Clockwork noticed, the timelines were already fused to the point of no return. Reality wrapped to fit the new Frankenstein series of events. So he did what he could, snip at some parts, and twist at others to make it so his protegee could have a chance of survival and still having a goodish timeline.

The gaping wound now finally shut, the old ghost went to treat the boy’s muzzle cuts and throat. The apparatus, when destroyed by the wail, had split open the right cheek’s flesh from the corner of the Halfas mouth, carving a morbid half smile. The boy’s tongue was bloody but could still be salvaged with diluted ectoplasm. The real problem was the throat; it was impossible to currently heal to a usable level with the concentration of ectoplasm he could safely use on Danny.

He was no Frostbite, but he was more than capable of putting back together the young ghost in a Time out. Daniel was too unstable to stay in the infinite realms, his core still too raw for pure Ecto. It would be like feeding a 10-year comatose patient a buffet after being kept alive via IV, transfer the concept to a fragilized and forcefully balanced core, and you get the idea.  It was also a way to better realize the consequences of his mistake. But not to apologize, nothing would ever be enough to fix what Daniel had endured.

Clockwork stopped believing in apologies an eternity ago.

It all had happened so fast, Phantom had no chance of changing the course of events. Ironically, the current timeline was the best possible outcome after the incident.

While his protegee’s original timeline’s parents would have been accepting of his heritage, the ones of the intruding unstable timeline were not. ‘Monsters’ would have been too kind of a word to describe them. Curiosity plagued individuals who could have given Dan a run for his money. The origin of a world’s collapse, the cause of too many deaths, terrifying geniuses with an unquenchable thirst for knowledge and slaves of their obsessions. Even their children didn’t hold enough value for them to spare.

Thankfully, this world didn’t come to that and was still salvageable. Unfortunately, too many people have already lost their lives and existence to his mistake.

It had been like any tranquil day in young Daniel's life. He woke up groggy after a night of patrolling, went to school, hung out with his friends, patrolled a bit, saved a few weaker ghosts, stopped a few accidents and then went back home. The young Halfa had planned to finally reveal his identity to his parents- with no little insistence and encouragement from his sister and the reassurance of the previous Freakshow happenings. (He, of course, delayed the moment as much as he could.)

Of course, Clockwork had already watched and analyzed all the possible futures caused by this decision. He had assured Danny that no harm would befall him.

And since every possible happening was in Daniel’s favor, the ghost of time left the timeline out of his watch in favor of fixing yet another mess the Speedster’s had caused.

Seriously, what kind of mentally challenged troglodyte would erase an entire timeline to enjoy a cheap burger in loop instead of buying another!

*Crack*

The forceps broke in his hand. The Ancient summoned another one. Moving to stitch the lacerations on his king’s arms and legs.

It had, sadly, taken a while for the Master of Time to fix the Flash themed issues. It then took him an even longer while to salvage the tangled mess of timelines. He was far too late to save Danny’s loved ones. Humans, even Liminals, were fragile.

—-------------------

The reveal had gone well at first, Jack and Maddie had accepted their son’s new nature. But then the timelines merged, the Fenton parents became one with their alternates and the world was set ablaze.

The youngest Fenton was promptly drugged and knocked out, only to wake up on a dissection table. His parents and a few GIW agents circling him, tools in hand. The hours, maybe days, Daniel spent in these creatures’ grasps were a nightmare made real.

His sister and friends tried to free him, only to be captured and fall victim to the same fate. Amity Park’s younger population mutinied against the agency and scientists but quickly got shut down. Brutally. The city was deemed a lost cause and put on lock down. The elder Fentons and the GIW galvanized by their success, went after every single being standing in their way in the name of science and self-defense.

It was too much for the young Halfa. His every waking moment being haunted by monsters wearing the skin of people he used to know and love. To hear the same people who raised and loved him gloating at the harm they caused his fraid. At the harm they caused him, vindictive. Every ounce of strength Danny had went into figuring out a way to save what he had left. But alas, he was too late.

Everything culminated the moment the agents and his parents reentered the room for the how manyth time. Their make believe faces fixed into a cruel smirk, smiles too wide, eyes too bright and too many teeth. Were the ghosts truly the monsters ?

Black opaque bags were dragged into the room next. A dreadful foreboding feeling caressed his spine. It was different. What were they planning?! What did they do?!

Panic seized the Halfa’s heart, hair standing on end. Eyes wide and pupils dilating as he noticed the strong smell of copper permeating from the bags.  His restrained limbs shaking at the realization of the truth he oh so wanted to deny. 

The monsters kept talking, taunting and accusing him of something. Blaming him. But he didn’t ‘hear’ them over his ever rising dread.

They opened the bags and his world came crashing down.

Three lifeless barely recognizable corpses. Chest opened in a bloody imitation of a butterfly. Missing limbs and organs. An innumerable number of lacerations. All indicators of a painful and slow death. But yet their eyes remained closed into acceptance and welcoming the relief of death.

He wailed.

Despite the muzzle, despite his already severed vocal cords. The wail coming from his very core blasted everything in his surroundings. The muzzle shattered, the monsters vaporized into a red mist and the walls became debris.

The building shook. The creatures in human skin panicked trying desperately to flee the premise but they were too late.

The latest experimental portal meant to be mass produced by the GIW resonated with the Wail and destabilized. The explosion that followed erased the facility and its surroundings and triggered the original Fenton portal which in turn wiped the city above off the maps.

Every single being died. The GIW agents, the Fentons, the citizens and some of the weaker ghosts. The stronger Phantom rogues weren’t even in the range or succeeded in escaping. The Fentons and GIW were still ‘thankfully’ useless when it came to capturing them.

And then there was Phantom.

Unfortunately or fortunately for him.

Forever the exception.

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

Prologue| Masterpost| Chapter 2!

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Author note:

Hello! Thank you for reading! This time I didn't write this at 3 am!

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I wrote it at 5am! Insomnia says what?

[shelter-maki0]

Ever since the time travel fiasco caused by his son transformed Harry into Voldemort, he had been having strange dreams from time to time. It was a dream in which a light twinkled in the darkness. The small light that shone in the dream reminded him of the brightness of the morning star.

Harry was beginning to get back to his normal life after the disturbances. Meanwhile, there were rumors within the Ministry that the ghosts living in the Ministry of Magic were beginning to disappear. Harry is going about his daily life, paying no attention to the rumors.

One day, Harry received a request from Hermione. It was a request for a visiting professor at Hogwarts. He was asked to go to Hogwarts, which was still reeling from the death of Craig Bowker, Jr. and to encourage and mentor the students. Naturally, Harry readily agreed to the request.

As Harry began to teach as a visiting professor at Hogwarts, a new incident began to occur at Hogwarts. It was an incident in which the ghosts in the castle were disappearing day by day. In addition to his work as a visiting professor, Harry also began to investigate the case.

At that time, Harry's strange dreams were becoming more eerie by the day. The light twinkling like Venus in the darkness was getting bigger and bigger every day, and it was getting closer and closer to Harry. But even though Harry chased after the light, he never reached it, and the light and Harry were like Achilles and the tortoise.

And the dream of the light took on a familiar and unpleasant feel. The air in the dream was heavy and raw, and Harry's whole body was damp with a disgusting sweat.

And Harry already knew the feel of that dream. It was the feeling of a nightmare that had tormented Harry for years. As more and more ghosts disappeared, the phenomenon gradually turned into a poltergeist and began to affect the students in the castle.

Harry grew weary day by day as the unknown strange phenomena continued, and before he knew it, dark circles severe had formed under his eyes. The fatigue was so great that Harry's memory and consciousness sometimes skipped.

And as usual, when Harry was having nightmares and became be impatient bizarre phenomenon. Finally, Harry called out the name of the nightmare.

"Voldemort, is that you?　Why don't you just show yourself?"

Then, a familiar hissing sound rang out behind Harry's ear, caressing pass the down at his hairline.

"I've been here forever. By your side."

Harry's body was the lure, that connected the pieces of Voldemort's soul from Limbo to this world. The ghostly disappearances that were happening around Harry were caused by Voldemort through his body. It had to do with the bond between the two, which was awakened by their son's case.

The pieces of Voldemort's soul were looking for a way out of the eternal pain that Limbo brought. He then sucks the hazy souls of the dead through Harry's body, building up his strength and looking for a way to return to this world again. And that power was now becoming strong enough to affect the real world as a poltergeist.

Harry had to stop Voldemort again. There was no one else in the world who could fulfill that purpose.

Therefore, Harry decided to negotiate with Voldemort. Harry lent him his body and offered to negotiate with him to leave this world and its people untouched, on the condition that they work together to find a way to collect the souls scattered in Limbo.

During the negotiations, Harry was inside thinking about ultimately wanting Voldemort complete dead, and Voldemort was also planning to look for an opportunity to resurrect himself after collecting his soul.

The two agreed to cooperate, albeit with different agendas, and the negotiations were successful.

Harry then offered himself once again to Voldemort as a medium between Limbo and this world. To protect the wizarding world from the threat of Voldemort, Harry set off with him on a journey to explore the afterlife.

Several decades after the hero of the wizarding world disappeared without a trace, Ginny was raising her children with a single hand. The children have grown up to be fine adults, and Ginny's face has deep wrinkles that remind us of the years that have passed. From time to time, packages arrive at the Potters' house from someone who appears to be Harry, but Harry himself is still missing.

And someone's funeral. As Ginny was attending the funeral, a familiar silhouette caught her eye through the fog.

There stood her husband, who had been missing for decades. But his appearance had not changed since he vanished, and he had not aged a bit. Even more puzzling, he was accompanied by a stranger next to him.

Harry stood next to a young boy, and a tattoo with a familiar design was visible on their entwined hands. The Pale complexion skinned boy's eyes flashed red as he noticed Ginny's gaze and gave her an eerie smile.

The next moment, while Ginny blinked, the two figures were hidden in the fog that drifted over the cemetery. When Ginny walked through the fog to where they were standing, there was no one there anymore, only a chill in the air.

end

＊note "Harry's body was the lure, that connected the pieces of Voldemort's soul from Limbo to this world."

The "lure" is expressed as "呼び水" in Japanese, but I am not sure if "lure" is conveyed in the proper sense.

"呼び水" has the meaning of an inducement and a medium for inviting something. "Priming" as a better choice? I'm sorry if I didn't convey the meaning properly🙇

[pleasantinternetperson]

In the end, he's always drawn back to her.

---

The aftermath of the battle is terrible.

There are bodies littered everywhere, glassy-eyed and unseeing.

And he is nos stranger to it, to the terrible presence of death, but it-

It still hurts.

---

Vi's screams will haunt him to his dying day.

Her grief is so raw and angry he has to look away, and the words that spill from her lips over and over as she clutches at the ledge are ones he has thought countless times.

It's not fair it's not fair IT'S NOT FAIR-

He knows what happened.

(She's-)

(How-)

(How can she be-)

(After everything-)

(Just like that?)

---

Ekko is the one who hauls Vi to safety before the beam collapses.

She's quiet. Numb, he thinks.

A part of him wants to stay with her.

But he can't. He can't stay here another second or he's sure he won't be able to take one more breath.

(She's really gone-?)

(Jinx?)

(...Powder?)

---

For the first time in his life, the undercity is quiet.

He doesn't even notice, not really, until much later.

He walks through the streets and sees everything Zaun could've been.

He sees Mylo and Claggor in the shadowed corners of their old haunts.

He sees Vi teaching him how to throw a punch in every crack of a wall.

He sees Benzo in the window of every run-down shop of wares.

He sees Vander in the wreckage of The Last Drop.

And everywhere, everywhere, he looks, he sees her.

---

He doesn't know how many times he stops her from detonating the bomb.

Her eyes look so empty.

And it breaks him inside that this girl who used to be so full of life wanted nothing more to do with it after the world took everything from her.

She has caused so much pain and suffering, has continued the cycle of violence by those left before them.

She's well within her rights to want to leave.

But he knows for a fact there's a life where things could be better.

There's a life out there where Zaun thrives because of her.

There's a life where she's happy.

And he'll be damned if he can't make that life a reality, no matter how many times he needs to turn back the clock.

She traces the edge of her bomb, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye.

"Just let me die."

He stands.

Her grip tightens.

"No."

She scoffs, though there's no real heat to it.

"Why do you care?"

Because he doesn't want this to be the end for her. Because he knows she can do so much more. Because even under all the anger and pain and grief that makes her now, there's still a chance for her to be that girl from another world.

Because he might just have fallen in love with her.

But most of all-

"Because you're worth saving."

---

He ends up making a mural for her in her workshop. There are many that pop up all over the undercity once the news gets around but...

This one is for him.

To remember her not as the tragic hero who managed to unite Zaun, but for his friend who died.

(He could've saved her.)

The Z-Drive looks up at him darkly whenever this thought comes over him, and his fingers twitch over the dials.

But he doesn't do it.

He sees Heimerdinger's face every time he does.

---

Vi comes to see the mural.

He lights flickering candles and has some of her leftover bits and bobs all over the place - a monkey head here and an old tool there.

He's drawn pictures of her from when they were young, from when they grew apart and puts on paper what he imagined she would've looked like older.

And tucked away in a small corner is the drawing of what she looked like in that other world.

That's the one that draws her sister's attention.

Vi's fingers ghost over the pencil lines, almost reverent.

"...I would've loved to see her like this."

Ekko sighs, not looking at her as he runs a hand through his hair.

His eyes land on a drawing of Powder and Vi, arms looped around each other, young and bright-eyed and joyous.

"Yeah. You would've."

---

Another part of him died with her, he thinks.

Because he knows that grief never really goes away.

It leaves him gasping for air at night and reaching for someone who isn't there when his own mind taunts him with all the what-ifs, and could've been.

Sometimes it leaves him with the memory of her lips pressing against his own, her fingers on the side his face gently.

He hates those ones most.

---

(But really, he'd give anything for the chance to do it again.)

---

What gets to him the most is that he could've saved everybody.

If he had been smarter, of he had figured out faster none of this would've happened.

And the thought crashes into him so hard and fast sometimes, and leaves him with a rage that makes him want to hit anything in sight it makes him sick to his stomach he almost destroys her mural.

He yells and screams and grieves for everyone he's lost, this boy saviour who took the world upon his shoulders.

And at the last second, just as he has his weapon ready to ruin everything, realization rushes through him and he falls to his knees.

She looks at him through the drawings, frozen and smiling.

Finally, he sobs.

I could've saved you.

---

It gets better. Eventually.

He helps with clean-up efforts in the undercity, travels up topside on occasion when Vi needs a hand with something, but sticks to himself for the most part.

While he's helping clear another fallen building a pair of kids bump into him. They're young, and only laugh for a second at their mishap before rushing off again.

He hopes they can live like that for the rest of their childhood.

He wants to make sure they can.

---

It takes a while before he goes up to the rooftop. Their rooftop.

When the grief isn't a raging, alive thing inside his chest anymore and settles deep inside of him instead.

He takes a seat in the edge, and lets his leg dangle in the air.

He breathes in.

(I could've saved you.)

It's recurring thought, now. Always in the back of his mind.

(I could've saved you.)

In another world, there was a happy ending. He hopes.

In another world, there isn't years of resentment and death and violence between them.

In another world he takes her to a party where they dance their hearts out and have the time of their lives.

In another world, they are sitting up here, and he kisses her first.

(I could've saved you.)

Ekko breathes out.

He lets the thought go.

(I'm sorry I couldn't save you.)

(I wanted to.)

(I really did.)

He hopes that wherever she is now she's happy. Or simply at peace, and able to rest from the life she's had.

And something in him feels a little bit lighter.

---

Later, when he gets back to the workshop, something catches his eye near the mural.

A piece of paper, gently blowing in the wind, trapped under a rock.

It's curiosity, more than anything, that leads him to pick it up. It seems too deliberately placed.

Unfolding it, Ekko keeps an eye on his surroundings in case this is somebody's idea of a trap, one hand around his weapon.

Then his heart drops.

It's a map.

And there are bright, colourful lines, squiggles, doodles-

A marked 'X' not too far beyond Piltover, and a message written beside it in haphazard fashion.

(It-)

(It can't-)

(She's-)

(Is she-?)

(Jinx-)

(...Powder?)

You gonna pay me a visit, boy saviour?

[takingchences]

𝐔𝐋𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐩𝐭. 𝟐𝟎

Where the descendant of a legendary quirk longs to rewrite history by becoming a hero. But in order to fulfill her dream, she must first face off against ghosts from her past and a growing attraction for the insufferable Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight.

Pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x fem!oc

Warnings: mature language

series masterlist + my masterlist

** Reminder that in canon, the fight with Stain happens on their third day. I changed it because I feel like the characters needed more time to develop their quirks before we saw any real changes (and also because I wanted a fluffy chapter before the big fight lol) HAPPY NEW YEAR!

"Oi, kid! Time to get dressed."

Sana was toweling off from the hot shower she'd just taken when Rumi used her copy of her keycard to enter the hotel suite. It was a precautionary measure to ensure that the Pro could get into her room in case of an emergency or to check in and make sure nothing scandalous was going on behind closed doors. They had given private rooms to hormonal teenagers, after all.

Sana popped her head out of the bathroom, water still dripping from her hair and onto the tile. A fluffy, white hotel robe was hastily tied around her waist, the sleeve slipping down one shoulder. She'd been back in the room maybe ten minutes, having just returned from her routine morning jog.

The rabbit hero snorted at her trainee's startled appearance. "Is this a bad time?"

The solar girl rolled her eyes, walking back into the bathroom to fix her hair. She kept the door cracked so the two could still communicate clearly. "Oh, pardon my nakedness," her tone dripped with sarcasm. "I wasn't expecting guests while I was in the shower."

"Good," Rumi smirked, lounging on the corner of Sana's bed, glancing around the room curiously. "Keep it that way." Sana rolled her eyes, unable to bite back a smile.

"I'm assuming there's a reason you broke in." Sana squeezed the excess water from her hair using a towel, quickly adding in her usual products before combing out any knots. "Or is this another one of your 'inspections?"'

The rabbit hero had burst into her room unannounced twice already in the five days they've been staying here. The first time was a little after midnight on her second day and Sana had been startled awake by a flashlight blinding her as Mirko searched the room for anything suspicious before casually wishing her a goodnight and walking out. The second time was last night, mere seconds after Katsuki had gone back to his room for the night after a lazy makeout session outside her door. She and the hero had had an awkward stare off for a good minute before retreating back to their rooms.

"The Commission is calling in the big guns to go to Hosu."

"Hosu?" Sana reappeared, grabbing her costume case from the closet. "Why?" She took the case with her back into the bathroom to change, disregarding the workout clothes she'd laid out beforehand. She had a feeling she wouldn't be seeing the sparring room today.

"The Hero Killer is hiding there. He's been amping up his attacks recently. No one is safe now that he's started going after pros in broad daylight. The media is putting a lot of pressure on The Commission to handle the situation, who are looking at us to put a stop to him. Discreetly."

Sana stepped out of the bathroom in full costume with a ribbon hanging between her teeth, dragging her semi-dry hair back with her hands. She pulled the ribbon tight around her ponytail to secure it. Sana could read between the lines. She wasn't naive enough to think that heroes never got their hands dirty. They dealt with life and death situations for a living. Fights with villains went wrong all the time. Some simply refuse to surrender. Innocent people are injured or killed in the crossfire. Heroes were human too... but so were the people they apprehended. Did the Hero Commission really expect them to act as executioners?

"What happens if we find him before the others?" The two stepped off of the elevator and exited the hotel. A black town car was idling by the sidewalk for them. A man in a suit wordlessly held the car door open for them as they climbed inside the vehicle. "The guy has a sword. He'll have the advantage if a fight breaks out."

The dark-skinned woman smirked, a mischievous twinkle in her ruby eyes. "That's where you come in."

"Me?" Sana blinked. She'd been stuck on the sidelines during every fight that had broken out this week, which was a lot considering Mirko made it a personal mission to challenge the villains they apprehended to duke it out mano a mano. "You haven't let me join in the action all week."

Rumi rolled her eyes. "Of course I couldn't. You're a target for the League of Villains."

The strawberry blonde was shocked, seeing as that little detail was never made public knowledge. When the story broke the news, All Might was the only reported target. Principal Nezu had made sure to keep her name out of the school's statement.

Mirko arched a brow. "Don't look so surprised. I had a long talk with Eraserhead before the internships started. He wanted me to know in case they tried anything while you were here. They showed up at your school with dozens of petty criminals to back them up. Who knows who they've allied with now? We agreed it was better for you to stay out of the fighting just in case." The older woman flicked her fair hair out of her eyes. "I can't have you tarnishing my perfect record."

Sana deadpanned. "You told me I was the first person you'd accepted to mentor." A tipsy Rumi had revealed over dinner two nights ago that Sana's performance during the Sports Festival had reminded her a lot of herself when she was her age. She admired the teen's fighting spirit and drive and had reached put to her to help guide her on her path to heroism.

The snow-haired woman shrugged, checking her nails. "What's your point? My record before you remains unblemished."

Wow, Sana slumped in her seat. I was benched by Mr. Aizawa. She knew he'd done the right thing by informing her mentor of the possibility of an attack, but she couldn't help but feel a little frustrated with the situation. She'd come here for hands on experience. While her classmates had been learning new techniques and how to react in dire situations, she'd been stuck in the gym for most of her internship or doing crowd work. She hadn't once considered how her role in the USJ attack might affect her internship.

Sana can honestly say she hasn't given any thought towards the League of Villains since that day. They just didn't seem like a credible threat at the time. It wasn't surprising at all that Mr. Aizawa had taken the threat against her more seriously. He was a seasoned pro who valued the safety of his students. They were here, out in the field with active danger all around them. Anything could happen.

"So how do I fit into all of this?" Sana questioned. "I don't even know what Stain's quirk is."

"There's some speculation," Mirko twirled her long hair around her gloved finger. In their short time together, Sana quickly picked up on the fact that the woman either couldn't or refused to be still. She was constantly moving and fidgeting, like a kind of restless energy had taken hold of her. The only time the pro was truly calm was after duking it out in the streets with someone. "Rumors circulating that he's able to somehow immobilize his victims, but no one knows whether it's because of a quirk or some kind of toxin he soaks his blades in."

"And, what? I'm the guinea pig that gets to test the theory out?" The solar powered scoffed, crossing her arms as she slumped against the back seat. "Sounds to me like your perfect record will be a distant memory after tonight."

Mirko nudged Sana's leg with her foot. "Obviously, there's more to it than that. Your quirk is probably the most versatile I've seen, kid. You can use it in different ways depending on the situation."

Sana eyed her warily. "What would you have me do then?"

"You need to get close to him. As close as you possibly can, whether it's an illusion or stealth or boosting your speed. Whatever you do, you can't give him any time to act."

"And where will you be while I'm trying not to get sliced and diced?"

"Monitoring the situation."

Sana arched a brow, a judgmental frown on her face. "I hope you brought popcorn to snack on during the show."

Rumi knocked a knuckle against the girl's temple. "You're dramatic ass is the only one that can get close enough to learn his attacks. Does he have a pattern? A weakness? How exactly is he able to immobilize his victims and for how long? Once I have an idea of how to take him down quickly and efficiently, I'll jump in and finish the job."

Sana crossed her arms. "What about Jeanist? Will he be joining us?"

"I doubt it. He has his hands full with that demon spawn you brought with you."

"Funny. He calls you the same thing."

The rabbit hero flipped her off.

¸☾⋆*･ﾟ¸☾⋆*･ﾟ¸☾⋆*

"You're shitting me."

"Language," Best Jeanist nagged with a pointed glare.

"This is a joke," Bakugou scoffed. He looked up at his latest assignment with disbelieving eyes.

"No, I assure you I'm quite serious." The Pro placed his hands on his hips. "Now get up there. The people are waiting." A small crowd had indeed gathered a few feet behind them, softly murmuring to each other as they filmed the whole interaction. A young girl with auburn pigtails was sobbing next to the ash blonde.

"Please, mister" she blubbered through hiccups. "Save him."

Bakugou shot an annoyed side eye at his mentor, who pointed at the tree. "Go on."

The human grenade sighed from deep within his soul before climbing up the tree. He couldn't use his quirk since the noise might disturb the small orange kitten stuck in the tree. He grumbled under his breath about how stupid this internship was turning out. He easily pulled himself up to the branch, snatching the animal by the scruff of the neck with a gloved hand. Round green eyes stared up at him in fright. Bakugou shook his head. "So lame."

He released his hold on the kitten, which fell directly into the hands of his mentor a few feet down with a distressed meow. The Pro gave him a look that promised a lecture before turning to present the kitten to the young girl. "Here you go, miss." Bakugou jumped down, dusting himself off with a scowl.

The child cradled the animal to her chest with tears still running down her face, but this time they were from relief. "Thank you thank you thank you!" She rushed forward and hugged Bakugou's boot. Her head only came up to his knee. The blonde stilled, his vermilion eyes unblinking. The little girl pulled back, wiping her tears with the back of her hand. "You're my hero!"

Best Jeanist chuckled at the look of surprise on his mentee's face. "Yes, Bakugou here is shaping up to be quite the young hero." He placed a hand on his trainee's shoulder, addressing the crowd. "So remember the name, folks. I'm sure he'll be dominating the rankings in the future."

The crowd clapped and whistled, shouting their praises for the denim clad hero. Cameras flashed as Best Jeanist signed autographs and posed for selfies. Eventually, the crowd dispersed and the two men were back on patrol. Bakugou stared down at his boots, scuffing them against the pavement. "Did you mean it?"

"Hmm?"

"What you said back there," he shoved his hands into his pockets. He desperately missed his cargo pants. These jeans were incredibly constricting. "About me. Did you mean it?"

Best Jeanist stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. Katsuki halted a step later, turning to look back at the taller man. The hero appraised him thoughtfully for a moment. "I don't make it a habit to lie. I meant what I said. You possess many qualities to make it as a successful hero in this business. You're passionate, tenacious, driven. There's no doubt you'll cause a stir in the rankings once you've debuted."

"Then why the hell are we pulling frisbees and cats out of trees?" The ash blonde demanded. "We're wasting time helping old geezers cross the street when we could be crushing-" he stopped as a slim finger was pointed at him, nearly poking his nose.

"That. That's what is holding you back from your full potential."

Bakugou smacked the pro's hand away. "Huh?"

The number four hero sighed, crossing his arms. "You're enthusiasm," he said dryly. "While admirable, is misplaced. The small things that may seem like a waste of time to you are just as important as any other assignment. You want to be a hero? You have to show people that you are reliable and capable of showing up where you're needed. No one is going to follow a hero they don't believe in. If they can't trust you with the small things, how do you expect them to trust you when their life is on the line?"

Katsuki was speechless. Ever since he was a child, he'd desired to be a hero. He had the physical strength and a powerful quirk. Everyone praised him, telling him what an amazing hero he'd be. He'd truly believed that strength was what made a hero. He knew that if he just made himself strong enough to take on anyone, like All Might, no one could stand in his way. But standing here, listening to one of the top five ranked heroes in the country, suddenly he's realizing there's more to it than that. There had always been more to it. He'd just been too blind to see it.

Or maybe he hadn't wanted to see it.

"You will learn that there are different types of strength in this world, Bakugou, not just physical. You're close with Flare, yes?" The hero asked. Bakugou nodded wordlessly. "What kind of strength would you say she possesses?"

It was a loaded question. Sana was more than capable physically, but she was also strong mentally. She'd been dealt a bad hand by the universe and had had to learn to strengthen her mind and heart at a young age. Sana didn't break easily and he liked that about her.

"What kind of question is that? She's tough."

Jeanist nodded, tapping his temple with his index finger. "You see, emotional and mental strength are also factors in this business. The ability to empathize is crucial. As heroes, we are part of something much more. So sometimes, we must look past ourselves to see the bigger picture."

Katsuki knew that he was at a pinnacle moment in his life. This was a moment that would define his future, change him for the better or worse depending on how he responded to the advice he was being given by someone that he begrudgingly respected. Best Jeanist didn't see him as a lost cause like so many others, but rather a work in progress. An investment he was willing to put his time and energy into to unlock the teen's full potential.

Neither was who the other had originally thought him to be. Beat Jeanist wasn't the uptight pushover he'd expected and Bakugou wasn't the hopeless delinquent he'd portrayed during the Sports Festival broadcast. The number four hero showed a quiet strength that made even the most rambunctious kid quiet down and listen.

The pro's energy reminded him of his father's.

"I'm not trying to change or reinvent you because you're not to my taste. I've actually grown to like you in our time together. I push you because I believe in your abilities and think you'll go far in this field with a little rebranding. Everyone loves a bad boy. There's no denying that fact. However, people need to know that beneath the hard looks and the boisterous attitude, you care. That you are willing to use that fighting spirit for them, not against them. I want everyone who looks at you after this internship to see a respectable, decent young man." Best Jeanist tried to ruffle his hair. It didn't move an inch due to the amount of gel holding it in place. "I know he's in there somewhere, buried under mountains of snark and hubris."

Best Jeanist kept his face well-hidden, but the crinkling around his eye gave away his smile. Katsuki got the strangest feeling at the familiar gesture, like he was seeing a younger version of Masaru Bakugou. The same fatherly pride was visible in the number four hero's eye. "Thanks," the teen grumbled shyly, averting his eyes.

Best Jeanist chuckled at his protégé's sudden bout of shyness. "Now all that's left is to find you a proper hero name."

"You going senile on me, old man?! I already told you my hero name!"

"I refuse to call you by such an absurd name. It's overly violent and crass. Try again."

¸☾⋆*･ﾟ¸☾⋆*･ﾟ¸☾⋆*

Seeing how serene the city was, Sana wouldn't have guessed that a sword-swinging serial killer was in Hosu. The civilians acted normal, going about their daily lives without an ounce of fear or caution. Kids ran around unsupervised, laughing and playing.

"Are we sure he's still here?" She whispered out of the corner of her mouth as she and her mentor patrolled the area.

"He always claims three victims before leaving the city. It's a pattern. He won't leave until he's finished off one more."

"How does he choose them? His victims, I mean." Sana pressed. "Maybe that could tell us who the next target is or where he might strike."

Mirko sighed heavily, shaking her head. "If there is a pattern to the victims, we aren't aware of it. His attacks are mostly unpredictable and uncoordinated. It's probably more of a crime of opportunity than a targeted hit."

"It'll be dark soon," Sana observed the Sun slowly creeping behind a skyscraper. "He could be anywhere."

"Then we need to be ready." The pro's feral grin made Sana shiver. "I hope the bastard tries something," she smirked, popping her knuckles.

"You don't mean that."

"I do-"

"No, you don't. Because if you did, then you'd be saying you hope an innocent person gets attacked... possibly even murdered."

Mirko shrugged, causing Sana to sweatdrop.

There was a loud crash in the distance, the sound of metal grinding against metal. Shouts of alarm caught their attention, making them halt. Mirko held up a hand, her snow-colored ears twitching left and right as she concentrated. "This way!" She shouted, leaping into the air using her powerful legs. Sana was right behind her, forced to run at a normal pace due to quirky restrictions.

Three blocks later, they arrived on the scene of a train crash. Heroes were everywhere, carrying the injured to the designated safety area. Sana and Rumi split up, the teenager assigned to help locate victims from the wreckage while Mirko was tasked with clearing away the bulky metal scraps so the healers could get through. It was two hours of intense labor, though thankfully there were no casualties from the accident. One of the train cars had derailed off the track, causing the cars behind it to lurch off course and crash into each other.

Rumi eventually found her among the wounded, helping to bandage any minor scrapes that needed tending to while the healers focused on the more serious injuries. "Well, I think that's the last of it."

The injured woman Sana had helped grabbed her hand and squeezed. "Thank you, dear." The solar girl nodded with a reassuring smile.

"Of course, ma'am." She helped the woman to her feet before joining her mentor. The rabbit hero clapped her on the back, the force behind it making Sana flinch.

"You're a natural, kid." The dark-skinned woman chuckled. "Only a few days on the job and you're already acting like a pro." Sana's answering grin was adorably bashful, her cheeks taking on a rosy hue.

"Thank you."

Mirko nodded, looking around with her hands on her hips. "We should probably head out-"

"What is that?!" Someone shrieked in the distance. More voices exclaimed in shock and horror.

Mirko curled her lip in annoyance. "What the hell is it now?" The two women ran up the subway steps to the main road. They both were jostled by the fleeing civilians and even some low level pros turned tail and ran at the sight of the creature wrecking havoc on the city.

"Nomu?" Sana couldn't believe it. What the hell was the League doing in Hosu? Was All Might nearby or something?

"You know that thing?" Mirko yelled over the noise as the dark creature bellowed before tossing a car into a neighboring building. "Whatever the hell he is, he's strong." Mirko was practically vibrating in place, her teeth bared in a feral grin. Sana knew she must be itching to fight something so powerful.

"They're weapons for the League of Villains. They have multiple quirks."

Rumi cracked her neck and knuckles, twisting her waist to stretch out her back. "Eraser did say that you fought a monster at the USJ. You really took on one if these bastards by yourself?"

Sana shrugged. "So I'm told."

A second, higher-pitched screech echoed in the distance, drawing their attention. There were more Nomus on the loose.

"If the League is really behind this, then you could be in danger. I have half a mind to send you back to Jeanist, but your experience with these things is too useful. You need to be able to protect yourself, so I'm giving you full permission to use your quirk."

Sana quickly schooled her shocked expression into one of cool confidence. "Okay. Got it."

"Now, let's kick some ass!"

The two split up, both racing towards the Nomus in the distance seeing as more heroes had arrived to take on the one before them. Sana quickly lost sight of her mentor in the rush, pushing all other thoughts away as she approached the spot where a hundred feet a Nomu with multiple chainsaws for arms was tearing up the street.

"Lovely," she huffed. She felt her phone vibrate against her thigh and leaned her back against the brick of the building to check her messages and remain hidden from the genetically modified creature until she was ready to engage in combat. She worried that Mirko had sent her a message, but only found a cryptic text from Midoriya to the class group chat. All he'd sent was coordinates, which weren't too far from her location.

"What the...?" Was he in trouble? Had he also encountered a Nomu and been injured? Was this his way of requesting backup?

She pocketed her phone and revealed herself to the Nomu. The sickly green creature screeched at her, revving his arms. "Change of plans, bub." She called out with a smirk. "We're needed elsewhere."

¸☾⋆*･ﾟ¸☾⋆*･ﾟ¸☾⋆*

Their fight against Stain wasn't going as well as Midoriya had hoped. He'd anticipated for the Hero Killer to be strong, but he was so quick with his attacks, so precise in his execution of his quirk that it was hard to do anything but evade him. One wrong move and he'd kill them or immobilize them indefinitely.

They were failing. He knew it, and he sensed the desperation in Iida and Todoroki's voices and movements. They were flagging... meanwhile, Stain didn't even seem winded by their efforts. They needed someone quick and agile. Someone virtually untouchable. They needed...

"Howdy, boys." Her voice was like sweet music to their tired ears.

"Sakano!" Midoriya couldn't contain the smile on his face. Sana was a sight for sore eyes. Finally, they might have a fighting chance of defeating the Hero Killer.

"Sana, get away from here!" Shoto called.

"You know, you should really send out an SOS if it's an emergency, Midoriya." She coolly entered the alleyway with her arms crossed. "Otherwise people might get the wrong idea and think you sending your location is some kind of open booty call." Her tone remained amused despite the chaotic scene she'd witnessed upon her arrival. Her classmates were bruised and bloody while an unknown pro sat slumped against the wall of the alley. Meanwhile, the Hero Killer Stain stood calmly at the center of it all, brandishing a katana dripping with crimson liquid.

"This really isn't the time-!"

"You pesky kids are really getting on my nerves," the serial murderer hissed. "I've had enough of your antics." With a burst of speed none of them had anticipated, he appeared in front of Sana and the entire group stiffened at the sound of metal slicing through flesh. Her eyes went wide as the three boys screamed her name in horror.

[palmettoshenanigans]

Aftg is really a Shakespearean tragedy. I’m learning about Titus right now and just.. Nora really checked all the boxes for a Shakespearean tragedy

Hello Anon Bestie, I've returned from war with my essay as promised! Okay, quick and dirty Betty Crocker Box recipe for a Shakespearean Tragedy (nuance and academic rigor not included):

A person with a flaw that can get em killed - spoiler: it gets em killed. (Tragic Hero + Hamartia)

Ghosts, witches, gods, oh my! (Supernatural Elements)

Good deeds go unnoticed and bad deeds go unpunished and everyone dies, hero included (Tragic Waste + Lack of Poetic Justice)

Look Anon Bestie, I took pages of notes, and I was almost going to talk about how everyone's Hamartia (Ambition, Devotion/Loyalty, Power, etc) were just functions of Love where Exy was the conduit everyone had in common. I even almost talked about the importance of how everyone's Deep Wounds had their origins in Parents (sins of the father, parental neglect and attachment, parents as one's first lesson on love). And THEN I almost talked about how neither villains nor heroes are born, they're made and the personal decision to remake one's self in the aftermath of the forge that shaped you-

But fuck all that honestly. All I care about here is the classic Tragic Hero and Tragic Waste hooplah. "The hero dies in the end" and all that.

I know what you're probably thinking, "But Tragic Waste doesn't apply to AFTG because the Tragic Hero doesn't die in the end! Neil is alive and so are all the Foxes!" I get it, I do, but here's my take. The Tragic Hero isn't Neil.

It's Nathaniel.

Which immediately brings me to my opinion on how AFTG manages to have a Supernatural Element as well. "But AFTG takes place in the real world!" stop interrupting me- listen- Neil isn't fucking real. He is not a real boy. Pinocchio in his wood state is more real than Neil is. Andrew knew Neil wasn't real from the fucking jump and was on that boy like white on rice. Nathaniel knew Neil wasn't real - how many times did he try to hold back his home grown Smart Mouth A La Attitude Problem for the sake of his store bought Meek and Mild disposition? AKA how many times did he suppress his Material because it would ruin the integrity of his Form? From page one our Tragic Hero was Nathaniel Wesninski trying to survive blah blah blah pretend to be Neil blah blah blah leave Nathaniel buried in Baltimore with his father yadda yadda roll credits- Throughout the entire first three books Neil Josten starts basically obtaining Life and haunting the narrative. He was a painting that triggered the uncanny valley, he was a statue that seemed like it was gonna reach out and touch you, he was a mask that accidentally welded itself to your face like that one movie from the mid-90s. Nathaniel is trying to beat this fake-boy back with a stick while also keeping his name but it doesn't fucking work that way. Neil wanted friends. Neil wanted Exy. Neil wanted a home. Neil wanted to stay. Nathaniel? He could have had friends and a home and Exy in another life. But Mary rewrote history and said "Put on these masks. Hide, Nathaniel. These masks will help keep you safe." And it was working tbh. But then one of them came to life. And our Tragic Hero died to make room for him.

Whoops.

There's nothing fancy about my arguement here, only that AFTG really does fulfill the Shakespearean Tragedy format, Supernatural Elements and Hero Dies and all. Anyway, here's a couple excerpts from my notes that didn't make the cut in my final essay: "The tragedy? All the villans are dead. Drake, Riko, Nathan, etc. But the ghost will forever haunt the house (flashbacks, nightmares, triggers, scars) and those who remain inheret the ruins they didn't raze (Ichiro, Exy)." "The hero dies and the villain dies but both good and evil still prevail so catharsis is bittersweet and yet that's what makes it the most realistic."

[fakescenariosbeforesleepblog]

Could you pretend you love me? Pt 3

Soap x Fem reader (single mom)

Warning: grammatical and spelling errors. Long read because If I do another part I will forget about the ideas I have right now. Images not mine, credits of them to whoever they belong to. Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

Tension at home is hard to handle, you don't want to admit your feelings for Johnny, he puts his distance and it hurts, meanwhile, Emma needs help at school, Father and daughter's day is knocking on her door, she needs a hero.

Finally after months observing your neighbor, you found the proof and information you've been waiting for. Is this still only a mission or it turned into something else, something more real?

It was midday when you received a call from Emma's school. She had a fight with a girl during breakfast.

You called Emma to her dormitory as soon as you ended the call with her teacher. You were upstairs, while Johnny was In the dining room, he was still distant, both of you barely leave the house these days. But you had Emma on speaker, so he could hear something of your conversation with her.

«i didn't mean to hurt her, but she was making fun of me and you told me to not let them bother me!»

- Yes, but I never said hurt her my dear...

«i barely touched her! Was just a punch in her eye! It's not even purple, I swear... Y/n, you have to believe me»

- okay, okay I believe you, but... Baby, please don't do that ever again, ok?

«Okay. Y/n?»

- Yes?

«Where's Johnny?»

You quickly turned off the speaker and took the phone.

- He's downstairs working, why?

«The girl was making fun of me because she says I don't have a father and that's why you came last year to the father and daughter's day»

- Okay... And???

«I was... Wondering if you could invite him... Or could you invite Ghost? He's massive, my classmates would stop to annoy me if my dad is there»

You felt your heart breaking, you tried to not make her feel the absence of her father but apparently at school things are different. You know you messed up with Soap, he would probably refuse, you didn't know what to do.

- Ah... Honey I don't think It's a good idea, you don't need to prove them anything, I can go again, I'll do it better this time, you will win 1st place... I...

«Y/n please, I won't ask you anything else for the rest of the year, but please, please. Anyone! Just for one day!»

The way she was begging you to help her was making you feel like the worst person in the world, you could hear she was starting to cry, you felt a hole growing in your chest.

- Emma, don't cry baby, please, don't cry, listen..., I'll ask if someone can help us, ok? I can't promise you nothing, but I will try to convince someone, yes? Emma?

«okay, thank you y/n... I have to go, I love you»

- Okay, have a good day, yes? I love you too.

The rest of the day you've been crying, you feel like you're failing your best friend, she certainly would know how to solve it, but you feel too dumb.

You were cleaning your nose when Soap opened the door of the room, you tried to hide your face but it was too late, he saw you.

- Are you ok?

- Yeah, I just had something in my eye. What's up?

- I... I found something, an email, he will receive a bunch of weapons and... Something else that he didn't specify, this week, and the strange thing is that it will arrive here, to the house.

- Why would he have that in his house?

- I don't know, but at the moment we have that, we'll tell Price, probably we would need him and the boys to help us if there's something more serious.

- Yes, I'll send him an email, thanks Johnny, is... Is That all?

- Yup, and You? Is there something wrong?

You were going to ask him, but you feel you can't ask him to help you if you haven't apologized for your little drama.

- No, all good.

He rolled his eyes, sighed and left you alone. You know it's always hard for you to say sorry, but he was right you were jealous, very jealous of that woman. So your second option was to talk with Ghost and convince him to help you, maybe he would do it, after all, he said Emma was a sunshine, that gave you a hope.

But why? It's easy to say sorry and accept that Soap was right and make peace, but you're mulish. You texted Gaz to ask if he and Ghost were in the base, he simply responded «mission». on the other hand, Price asked you to not leave the house and observe and listen to every little thing from the enemy.

A couples hours later, Gaz texted they were back on the base just in case you needed something, you were very nervous, you were making all this situation more difficult, you're stubborn and mulish, you called Ghost.

« Hi Lt., Listen I... I was wondering if you can help me with something, it is completely out of our work (...) Yeah?, I can't leave the house though, but can you come over when you have the opportunity? Thanks!»

You went downstairs, Soap was still working, eating baby carrots, pretending he wasn't observing you, but he was.

- Are you going to tell me why you were crying?

- Are you going to stop your silent treatment against me?

- That means you will not tell me... ok, I get it.

He stood up and put on his boots and a jacket. took his car keys and walked to the door.

- I'll go to the grocery store, you want something?

- I'm fine, thanks.

He closed the door while you muttered «i want my fake husband back...» you can admit it when you're alone, but never In front of him. You hate when he's right, you hate to accept it. You're debating with yourself when Ghost sends a text.

«on the way» you're praying for help, you hope he accepts because you refuse to say you messed up and apologize to Soap.

You're waiting for someone, no matter who, Soap or ghost, it doesn't matter, you're already bored, there's no movement or any interesting conversation in your neighbor's house. Nothing. Until the doorbell sounds.

Ghost is outside, wearing civil clothes and a black mask, you opened and offered him a drink. Both are in the kitchen talking about the mission, you mentioned your little discussion with Soap but not the entire version, you omitted some details.

- It'll be over soon (y/n)

- Yes, well... Now, I... I don't know how to ask you this so I'll simply say it, okay?

- Go on.

- Would you go with me to a parents day at Emma's school?

Ghost stayed quiet, shocked, he was waiting for you to say something else but you're mute now.

- Can't you go alone?

- I can, but... It's actually for Fathers and daughters, Last year I went and it was fine without any problem, but... Emma had a fight at school this morning, some girls were making fun of her because... You know, it's only me and her. There's no "Father"...

You laughed nervously, he's still thinking about what you said.

- You don't have to accept it though, I can ask Gaz or Price... Feel free to reject it but Emma literally cried and begged me to ask you...

Both stayed in silence, you're biting your nails waiting for an answer, any answer is better than his silence.

- Fine, when?

- Really?

- Yes...

You jumped to him and hugged him, you know he doesn't like the contact but you couldn't stop yourself, your face is hidden on the crook of his neck while you say over and over «Thank you, thank you Si!» he doesn't return the hug, instead he just gives you little pats on your back. A new person joins you.

- Ah... What's going on here?

Both jumped, Soap is in the doorframe with a paper bag, observing both of you.

In Soap's mind there's a lot of questions floating. (Why are you hugging Ghost like that? Do you have something with him that no one knew? Why am I feeling annoyed... Or... Am I jealous? Is this how you felt when you saw me talking with that girl? What are you doing to me y/n?)

- Nothing, I asked Ghost to come to talk about something and see if he could help me with it.

Soap is not ok with that answer, it looks like you hide something from him, also ghost is not helping he's just there in silence. After a moment where the three of you stayed in a very uncomfortable silence, Ghost stood up.

- Well, if that's all I think I have to go, send me details later Y/n.

- For sure, thank you Lt.

Soap's face is enough for you to notice he's more angry than before, he put the bag on the kitchen's table. Ghost passed by his side and Soap went behind him, both went out and you stayed there not sure of what to do.

Ghost rarely talks but this time he feels like there's something wrong between you and Soap.

- Johnny... Is everything ok between you and her?

Soap stopped and Ghost turned to look at him.

- Honestly, I don't know Lt. This mission... Looked simple, remember how I laughed and said it would be like those movies that mix romance and action? Well, It's more difficult than it seems.

- What you mean?

- it has been hard to... Remember we're just pretending, everything started to get more and more real. I think I...

He stopped himself, was he really accepting there are some feelings involved?.

- You what?

- I just... want this to end soon.

- it'll be over soon Johnny. Everything will go back to normal soon.

Simple but effective, those words brought some peace to Soap. He only nodded, they were saying goodbye when a Black trailer parked in front of the house, in that moment you also went out.

- Guys! I... Come here! Now!

Both ran to you, once you closed the door, you started to explain yourself.

- That trailer contains a Gas... Very toxic.

- What?

- Chemical weapons?

- Exactly, this guy is planning to use them to create chaos and move his weapons freely. Listen.

«Yeah, about the chemicals, I want it in a bomb. We'll drop it in the center of the city, it will be enough to distract everybody and send the rest of the weapons and missiles to Mexico without problem.»

- How are they planning to move all that? We have to put some trackers In the trailer, we will obtain the location of where it comes from or where it goes.

- Plane or boats, this location has a quick access to the airport and the dock and the port . Call Laswell and Price, tell them we have to move before this bloody bastard!

Ghost left after that, you and Soap stayed there, for a moment the work is helping to not think about the elephant in the room, both are too busy to pay attention to your hearts.

Soap went to put a track on the trailer while you were trying to obtain more information, you hide in the backyard of your neighbor, Jeff has been making calls all day, you're just waiting.

- Y/n... Tracker on the trailer, how's everything going over there?

- Nothing to report yet.

- Copy. Tell me if you need help.

- I'm fine Sergeant.

After a while you decided to go back to the house, there wasn't anything else. Soap wasn't there, or at least that's what you thought, you yelled his name but he didn't answer, instead you heard a noise in the bathroom, you took your gun and walked to the bathroom's door, you opened with a quick kick and Soap's voice and his naked body made you jump.

- What the hell is wrong with you?

- I thought you weren't here, you didn't answer! Jesus! Put a shirt on!

- I took a fucking shower!

You walked to the room and he was behind you, you heard him laughing.

- It's not fucking funny, I could hurt you!

- You wouldn't be so upset if I were Ghost...

He muttered, you turned back to look at him, what did he say? How does he dare to say that?.

- and you wouldn't be an idiot if I were that stupid girl you saw the other night! How can you believe I want to be with Ghost!?

- I saw you, the way you hugged him! You feel something for him, I'm so stupid for thinking you and I...

- No, you're so stupid to think I want him when I'm fuckin' crazy for you, idiot!

Both stayed in silence, you realized what you said and before you could say something else, Soap's lips Collided with yours, his body glued to yours, both fell on the bed.

A few hours later both were laying in bed, your head was resting in Johnny's chest while you were drawing invisible little circles on his body, while he was doing the same on your exposed back.

A pillowtalk about where this situation was going was enough to let all clear between both of you.

«I'm sure about what I want, and I want you, I want you Y/n, nobody else but you»

Both fell asleep, a terrible mistake.

- Soap... (You whispered)

- hmm...

- Soap, Wake up, slowly...

- What...?

He opened his eyes just to see you standing in front of the bed, a man has a gun on your head, while another is pointing to him.

- Stand up, slowly or I shoot at her.

You're not afraid, Soap looks at you and nods, you know he will try to unarmed the man at his side, you're ready to do the same as soon as he gives you any sign.

He gets up, with his hands up, in the blink of an eye, both unarmed the men, a shot echoed. You thought you were hurt but it wasn't you, a bullet hit Soap's arm, it's nothing serious, but he was hurt, you quickly made a bandage, Soap called Price to let him know what happened and warn him they were moving, the trailer was at the port with the missiles and tanks of gas. Another team was assigned to search and disassemble the bomb in the center of the city, while All of you were on the way to stop the ship.

It was easier than expected, all the men in the ship were new in this, some of them surrendered while some others tried to fight you, Jeff was captured by Soap, he found him in a restaurant close to the port, he was receiving the first part of the payment for his services, he confessed he would receive the other half after the weapons arrived to Mexico.

The night passed quickly, Soap was attended, he would be fine but he would have a new scar on his bicep.

Everybody was in the meeting room, Ghost was talking with Johnny about something, while you, Gaz and the captain were talking about what you found in the ship and the people who decided to cooperate and give their testimonials.

It was early in the morning, you were in your office, writing your report and doing paperwork when Soap's voice made you jump from your seat.

- Ghost told me about that Parent's day at Emma's school.

- Jesus! Fuck, you have to stop scaring me like that!

- Sorry, why didn't you tell me?

- We weren't in a good moment Johnny. Also, Emma wanted Ghost because she thinks he's more handsome than you and has a little crush on him too.

You made a mischievous smile, you were trying to pissed him, he made that fake and silly offended look and rolled his eyes while he was walking to your desk, once he was close to you he kissed your lips and muttered.

- Ew!! I don't want to know about my daughter's Crushes! And Ghost told me I can go instead of him just if you and Emma are ok with that.

You smiled at him, did he really call Emma 'His Daughter'? You returned the kiss and nodded in silence.

- I think she would love to see both of you, we'll say Ghost is her uncle.

- That sounds perfect, my sweet wife.

- Easy Mactavish, I don't have a ring yet.

- I'll get one as soon as possible, before you can reconsider and reject me.

Both laughed, how did you end like this? Falling for him and him falling for you, months ago it was only you and Emma, then all that show with a fake family that became real, you still think you're dreaming, certainly, love arrives and grows up in the weirdest and most unexpected ways.

Emma was the happiest girl at that Parent's school event, her 'daddy' and 'Uncle' surprised her, the competition was successful, Emma obtained the first place, all her classmates were talking about how lucky she was to have a family that supports her, Soap sent you a million photos of them, even Ghost looked happy to be there. Eventually for Emma's birthday, Price and Gaz joined her new family, everything resulted well after all.

For once, in months, you felt like you were doing it great not only with Emma but in your life, you felt like finally you were making your best friend proud of you, her daughter was happy, safe and healthy, with a new family, you with a great boyfriend who actually is a good father, and always reminds you how wrong you were about him.

- Okay, okay, you win, you're a good father and boyfriend material.

- Boyfriend? Y/n, I'm more than your boyfriend, I'm your future husband, and this time will be forever, and 100% real.

[save-the-villainous-cat]

PLEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASE h/c between hero and villainnnnnnnnn (emphasis on the comfort, blueberry)

The villain remembered the words probably even better than the hero. Which was…understandable, considering the state their body had been in.

One for the money, the supervillain had said, breaking one of the hero’s ribs with nearly surgical precision. And two for the show.

All the villain could do was stand and watch their lover crumble and cry, screaming for some help, not for the villain’s help in particular. They wished the hero had begged them for it, had sung their little secret into the world, so the villain could’ve helped them.

But they also knew if they’d actually helped them, the hero would have never forgiven them. And yet, the guilt was beyond bearable when the villain’s fingers ghosted over the hero’s bruised ribs and a pained face answered.

The hero had been worryingly quiet, doing chores already with little resting, not meeting the villain’s eyes. They barely ate. Didn’t ask for anything.

“They’re healing fast,” the villain observed, eyes heavy.

No answer came and the villain shifted, not finding the right words to express their feelings.

In certain lighting, the hero looked annoyed, angry even. Although the villain knew they weren’t the problem, knew that the hero absolutely loved to blame and curse themselves rather than their lover, they couldn’t help but think they were responsible.

“You have to take it easy. You were carrying too much groceries yesterday. That’s why you had breathing problems.” The villain looked at them and studied their features. “You have to be more careful, my love.”

Still no answer. All the hero did was nod (insincerely) and squeeze the villain’s finger, whispering a semi broken “okay” under their breath. That wasn’t a real answer.

“My love,” the villain started. “Please.”

They cupped the hero’s face and finally the hero managed to look at them.

Tears ran down their cheeks and over the villain’s hands.

And it broke the villain. Broke whatever loyalty they still felt towards the supervillain, broke their plan for revenge, broke everything into pieces until it was only them and the hero and the pain. All they wanted was to hold their lover and tell them they were sorry. They wanted to hold them and never let go, wipe away their tears and kiss their nose, play with their hair and let them fall asleep on their lap.

Slow steps. The villain wiped away the hero’s tears.

“I’m a horrible hero,” they choked out between sobs. “I get my ass kicked all the fucking time.”

“That’s not true,” the villain said.

“I used to defeat villains so easily and now I’m just — I’m just—” The hero didn’t finish the sentence, for there was too much tear fluid in their throat.

“Hey, it’s not your fault,” the villain said. “You’re brilliant, you’re—”

“A fucking failure,” the hero managed to say.

“Sweetheart. I’ve been telling you over and over again. They’re sending you out too soon. They don’t give you enough time to recover.”

The villain kissed their lover’s nose.

“And I realise that we have to stop. Both of us, we have to stop what we’re doing. It’s killing us.”

The hero let their head rest on the villain’s shoulder as they wrapped their arms around them gently, still much too hurt and much too scared.

“I love you,” the villain whispered. “I will do everything to keep you safe, I promise.”

And they did. All it took was their soul to become truly corrupt.

[stingslikeabee]

@poeticphoenix . from here

It had been a hobby like any other - and common among theater folk like Melissa, aspiring to make their breakthrough any time soon. Thrift shops had the most intriguing items - one man's trash being another's treasure, as the old saying went. Many of these little places had kept pieces which had been fundamental for the woman to feel like a certain character for an audition which was eventually successful, and as long as her findings were not expensive... There was always room for another trinket.

The actress did not know what compelled her to acquire that particular amulet-like necklace. It looked ancient and mysterious, perhaps the item that one belonging to royalty would own. Or maybe a witch from a long, powerful line with roots tracing back to Europe - the possibilities were endless, and so were the potential roles and profiles conjured by Melissa's ever creative mind.

The one thing that she didn't account for while trying it on before bed was for the object to hold any real power - it took her a second to realize that the glow of the jewelry was not a trick of the bedroom light and that it was doing something of its own. Melissa stopped combing her hair and frowned, picking up the somewhat heavy pendant for a closer inspection, then looking at mirror once more...

...And finding him.

The brunette's eyes went wide with surprise, dropping the amulet instantly. The vanity mirror showed her an impossible (or improbable) scene of another right at her side, a curious thing when Melissa had been living alone in that tiny flat for a few years now. It was something out of a horror movie, to suddenly realize that your quarters had been invaded by an uninvited guest - except that apparition (or ghost) hardly looked... Evil.

The girl's following actions were probably not what the average person would have done in her place - instead of smashing the mirror, unclasping the necklace or even rubbing their eyes to see if they were not delusional, Melissa turned in her chair, moving towards the man that had just manifested in that room. As if spellbound, the first thing she did was to touch him - reaching out with both hands, like a child too mesmerized by something magical and otherworldly.

To her surprise - he was tangible; solid and warm, even, like a person. Melissa's gaze translated all the confusing and exciting emotions that swirled within and that could not yet be trusted to be handled through speech: was he real? That man looked like the tragic hero of an epic work of art, a prince of some distant era, the paladin to a forgotten god or an avatar of some deity known only in exotic lands.

But when he spoke up - Melissa understood every single word. It was English alright (even if with the faintest accent that she could not place), refined and polite as if he had came alive from a play. The woman gasped then, withdrawing both hands as if she had burned him or harmed the stranger somehow - but then realizing the content of his words and how remarkably similarly it felt to a fairytale.

It was real, wasn't it? A creature trapped in an amulet rather than a gennie in a lamp. Melissa's honeyed eyes were so full of wonder and expectation that she barely blinked, consuming the visuals of that apparition and believing herself insane for a second - there was touch, warmth, a distinctive baritone and even...

...Did he smell of spice? The faintest, barely-there scent of something distant and foreign, an entirely believable fact given the simple but regal robe covering his body.

"Are you real?" her voice was but a whisper, Melissa's hands going back to him just as they had originally done. In the event of an affirmative answer, that was a remarkably bold act: to hold and inspect another through touch without the excuse of prior knowledge and intimacy. And yet, she couldn't help it - but wasn't that a trait of all mankind? To yearn and reach for all things magical and extraordinary, even when they had no claim to it?

"Who are you?"

[1-800-local-slut]

With a Heavy Heart- Chapter 4

𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃ℊ𝓈： 𝓈𝓉ℯ𝒶𝓁𝒾𝓃ℊ， 𝓋𝒾ℴ𝓁ℯ𝓃𝒸ℯ 𝒯𝒲： 𝒥*𝒽𝓃 𝒲𝒾𝓃𝒸****ℯ𝓇， 𝒸𝒽𝒾𝓁𝒹 𝒶𝒷𝓊𝓈ℯ （𝒸𝒽𝒾𝓁𝒹 𝓃ℯℊ𝓁ℯ𝒸𝓉， 𝒸𝒽𝒾𝓁𝒹 𝒶𝒷𝒶𝓃𝒹ℴ𝓃𝓂ℯ𝓃𝓉）, 𝒶𝓃ℊ𝓈𝓉，𝓈𝓂ℴ𝓀𝒾𝓃𝑔，𝓂ℴ𝓃𝓈𝓉ℯ𝓇𝓈，𝓁𝒾𝓉ℯ𝓇𝒶𝓁𝓁𝓎 𝓅𝓁𝒶𝓃𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓂𝓊𝓇𝒹ℯ𝓇 𝓁ℴ𝓁， 𝒥ℴ𝒽𝓃’𝓈 𝒶 𝒷𝒶𝒹 𝓅𝒶𝓇ℯ𝓃𝓉 𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝓌ℯ 𝒶𝓁𝓇ℯ𝒶𝒹𝓎 𝓀𝓃ℯ𝓌 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉，𝓂ℴ𝓂𝓂𝓎 𝒾𝓈𝓈𝓊ℯ𝓈

༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻

August 18th, 1997

Dear diary- I never thought I’d see the day when I loved my job. But the day has come. Dean and I wrapped up a pair of shapeshifters then a ghost in Baltimore. I wrapped up the guy in the Chinese shop, dragged his body out back and into the dumpster then lit it on fire. Dean’s put up a fight, she threw a rotisserie chicken at him and two hot dogs. She sprinted out the back and I tackled her before getting her back into the store. I was personally ready to just shoot her and go home. But Dean, ever the hero, asked about the pack. The thing got real angry, and she lunged at us, but I handcuffed her to some pipes in the break room. After some light interrogation (I gave it five seconds to talk then I kicked it in the mouth) she told us she and her man were on their own. Some sad love story between the two who ran away from their pack. I honestly would’ve let her go, but Dean didn’t appreciate getting bitten in his shin so I shot it in the face. That and we did find some shedded skin (gross). Then we went to Baltimore.

I never thought I’d call Baltimore the city of love, but it’s mine! So, picture this. Dean and I, get into this abandoned hospital and get locked inside a small closet. I only agreed to go in because he helped me out with the shapeshifters. It was just us, dark as all hell, and I don’t know if it was my heartbeat or his beating so loud. He tried beating down the door, then we heard someone else walking around. The next thing I know, his hand is over my mouth and I’m pressed up against him and the door. I peeked through a crack in that ghetto ass door. I didn’t see anyone, but I wasn’t really invested in that. I know, poor timing, but I didn’t ask to be a hunter in my life. So yes, I took great joy in feeling Dean’s body against mine.

I had to climb on top of him, and get on his shoulders. His hands were on me and I had to squeeze into a vent. He muttered something about a pipe. I was worried about that for a minute until I saw a dead rat and almost vomited in the vent. Sometimes nose plugs just aren’t enough. I eventually got out and to the other side of the closet, and was able to get Dean out. We found the ghost or whatever, I still don’t really know what happened. I wasn't super invested. I just kept thinking about Dean. Even though the hospital smelt like shit, I was fine with it because he was present. Gosh, I never thought I’d have such a massive crush on Dean. I always thought he was cute but I never thought him holding my waist up to shove me into a vent would make my heart race. I’m a little bit nervous though. What if he doesn’t feel the same way? Oh well, no time to worry about that. He’s with me now, and I think I heard the shower cut off. I’ll write more tomorrow.

P.S. I think Salem might be coming down with something, I may have to take him to the vet tomorrow.

༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻

“So tell me, am I the only guy you sneak into this castle?” Asked Dean while he put his necklace back on. Fresh out of the shower, and in soft clean clothing he sauntered into the kitchen. He saw Salem sitting with the gorgeous huntress who was tenderly petting him on the island.

“Why? You jealous of the others?” She shot back looking up at him. Yes. He was jealous at the thought of another man in here with her. After today, he especially was. His heart jumped in his chest at the implication of others and he had to stop himself from frowning.

“If I am, you gonna stop having them over?” He teased sliding next to her on the kitchen island. But he was hoping she would, if there were any other guys. With a laugh, she handed him Salem and wordlessly got up from the counter top, turning on the tea kettle. He watched her take out a green container with a man in a soccer jersey on it.

“Tea?” She asked while twirling around holding a mug with her first initial on it. With a raised eyebrow, Dean decided to just leave it be instead of asking a possibly stupid question.

“Sure.” He responded. It was 8:00 PM now, and the two were settled in for a cozy evening. Dean called John from a payphone when they stopped for gas, told him it would take a bit longer and mentioned dropping by her place for help. Now he can’t say he never told him where he was. Plopping down a recliner while Salem jumped down and ran free.

His eyes raked over her body while she shut off the stove and he admired her shorts that clung to her shape and the matching cami she wore. Since he was squished up against her in the closet earlier, he was really thinking about her. Not in the normal tender, loving way he usually thought about her. In a more…intimate way. She was now walking towards him, Dean’s eyes were glued to her thighs that rubbed together as she walked towards him.

He felt tension though, unsure if it was between the two of them or just him. Her voice broke through his thoughts.

“Here you go hon.” Her eyes raked over his chest, he felt like he was being undressed by her gaze. He took it, brushing two fingers over her smaller ones. She slowly (maybe it was just Dean’s horny brain slowing her motions) turned and sat down on the arm rest of the recliner like always. With hesitance, Dean slowly moved to wrap his arm around her waist and rest his hand on her thigh. He felt her breast smoosh against his head and he fought the urge to bury his head in them. For some reason, things felt different than other times. This time it was like someone put on mood lights and left rose petals out for the two. Like something else was going to happen and separate their friendship from longing stares he gave her, soft pecks on the cheek and forehead and into something else.

He felt her shift closer to his body and saw her place her mug down. Dean stared right ahead at the window, the rain pouring down outside. Soft music played from her radio, just regular jazz that she liked. She casually wrapped her arms around his neck, Dean’s blood pressure shot up incredibly fast. Now Dean doesn’t freak out over women touching him often, that’s a regular day for him. But this woman was different. This one he wanted so much it made his heart ache.

“You mind if I sit on you?” Oh God. Swallowing, Dean tried to remain charming. He flashed her his signature boyish grin and looked deeply into her mysterious eyes.

“Long as you don’t crush me, beautiful.” He shot her a wink and she laughed. What the hell was that line? As long as you don’t crush me? Dean couldn’t help but admonish himself for his awkwardness. He was broken from his thoughts though, from her slowly sliding down onto his lap. Her ass was directly over Dean’s crotch and he knew right there he was going to blow it. Forget playing it cool, forget all of that. He couldn’t hide himself from her.

“Hey what’s on the TV?” Taking a sip from her mug, Dean tightened his grip on his mug. Reaching down for the remote, Dean stifled a moan feeling her move. Was this a test from God? To see if he would ruin his friendship and make a move on her? In his head, Dean began to chant.

‘If she wanted me she would’ve told me, if she wanted me she would’ve told me, if she wanted me she would’ve told me, if she wanted me she would’ve told me, if she wanted me she would’ve told me.’ Right. He’s never known her not to say she wanted something. She was always super vocal, so if she wanted him he would kno-

“Dean.”

“Yeah sweetheart?”

“I want you to kiss me.”

༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻

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@roseblue373

@titty-teetee

[hotcheetohatredwastaken]

Febuwhump day 8 -- "Why Won't it Stop?"

“Why won’t it stop?”

The tearful declaration shouldn’t have surprised Time, but yet it did. The group’s veteran had been plagued by nightmares for what seemed to be weeks now, the cause of this affliction completely unknown and its solution just as elusive. At first, he’d hidden it from the group of heroes—then, when the bags under his eyes became too prominent to explain away, he’d taken the other’s worry in stride, joking with Warrior about how he liked coffee as black as his soul, waking Wind up early so that he too could suffer the curse of watching the sun rise over the trees. Then that occasional sleepless night stretched into two, and three, and four in a row. Now, he was exhausted, too exhausted to even be bitter about the situation, and some of those snarky walls came down with him.

The heroes had a watch, set up so that two people were up at all hours of the night, switching out so that everyone got a decent amount of sleep while the camp remained safe and guarded. Recently, that duty had expanded to accompanying Legend in his nightly vigils by the campfire, where he was always found to have drawn from his bedroll after that first hour of rest was interrupted by nightmares. Legend hadn’t even noticed their silent system concerning his care, which worried Time all the more.

He wondered what kind of nightmares could be making their prickly, battle-hardened veteran awake from his dreams gasping and trembling like a child, hour after hour, night after night. The rest of the heroes didn’t know what to think of it, either. They averted their eyes and squeezed his shoulder or pressed hot chocolate into his hands before they retreated, giving him his space to sort himself out. Pride was a tricky thing, and Legend was nothing if not fiercely prideful—to see him this way put them all on the wrong foot, and they were all afraid of making the wrong move and pushing the veteran to decide he’d make them share in his suffering with his harsh tongue.

“I… I just… why won’t it stop?” Legend nearly whimpered the words. He pressed the heels of his palms to his eyes. “I want it to stop.”

“I know, I know,” Time soothed, carded a gentle hand through his damp, greasy hair. Another thing that Time was surprised about, but knew that he shouldn’t have been. Just a few minutes earlier, Legend had shot up in his bedroll with a strangled gasp—as he did every night—in the wake of one of his nightmares. He’d stolen over to the fire, trailing a blanket behind him like a ghost, and just stood there and blinked down at Time as if trying to determine if he was real or not. Time, on instinct, had lifted an arm to invite Legend to sit next to him—and before he knew it, the kid slammed into his chest like a cannonball, curling up in his lap. Time took it in stride well enough, though he could already imagine Malon’s delighted squeal when he relayed the scenario to her in some letter later, when all of this was over. Because this spell would end, and their vet would be alright again, eventually. “Just close your eyes for a little bit, you have to get some rest. Even if you can’t get back to sleep, it’s okay to just relax for a bit.” 

The long rehearsed and repeated words fell empty off of his tongue. Legend’s little disbelieving scoff was enough of an answer to that advice. Gee, Time, don’t you think he’d already thought of that? Sleeping and resting and relaxing? But Legend didn’t voice that snarky comment, and Time wished he would have, if only to imitate a reminder of their normal, sassy veteran, only for a moment. Instead, he rubbed at his eyes, sniffling, and curled tighter around himself.

“I just… how did you manage it, Time?” Legend said, his shoulders raising. His blond bangs, tipped with that odd pink that he seemed to favor, obscured his eyes. Still, one of his hands clenched in the fabric of Time’s tunic, and the lines of his shoulders were tense. “You… you got married… you got out of… of this life of adventuring and fighting monsters and… and all of that stuff. Got yourself a house, a family, a… a life, outside of… adventure, or whatever.” He turned his face away, his tone hesitant, like he was worried about angering Time with his next words: “Malon… don’t you worry she’ll be… taken?”

“What do you mean?” asked Time, keeping his tone light. His heart sank nevertheless, because he knew exactly what the kid meant.

“Well, just like… you’ll get too comfortable, and then something’ll happen, and you won’t be ready because you let your guard down and you hurt those you love because you got too close?” Legend sat up with a start then, scrubbing at his face. He turned away from Time, hugging his arms around himself as he shook his head. “I’m sorry, I’m rambling. I’m sure I’m not making any sense.”

“No, no, I understand you. Are you thinking of someone in particular? Perhaps that ‘roommate’ of yours?” Time asked, his tone teasing. “I’ve met him before, that little bunny hood of his was always so goofy.”

“Yeah… so goofy…” Legend said dreamily, and wasn’t that a sign of his mental state. “And my family and this one girl I used to know and just… everyone. I… I’m sorry, Time, I don’t mean to be putting this all on you.” Suddenly, Legend seemed to come back to himself, and a slight blushed tinged his cheeks. He swiped a hand up through his bangs and pushed himself to standing, averting his eyes. “I’m really sorry, Time, being tired just makes me blab. I think I’ll go back to bed, see if I can’t get another few hours.”

“Stay.” Time caught his elbow. “Just for a second, please.”

Legend allowed him to pull him back down to sitting, though he looked like he wanted to die about the whole thing. Time shifted on the log, gathering himself up with a steadying breath. Then he spoke.

“I do worry about Malon. And I worry about the farm, and Zelda, and all of Hyrule. Now I worry about all of you boys, too, that I’ve gotten to know each and every one of you.. I worry that something will happen while I’m gone, or I’ll die off in some corner of the timeline and she’ll never know, or that something will happen to one of you boys and I’ll be left to live with it. And I… the only way I’ve gotten through it is being able to talk to Malon,” Time confessed. “She’s my rock, fiery woman that she is.”

Legend took this all in silently. Time rubbed at the back of his neck, feeling awkward all of the sudden.

“Do… do you think that you’d be able to talk about any of it, Leg’?” he ventured. “I’m not one to press about secrets, but something’s clearly bothering you. Maybe if you got some of that off of your chest, you’d be able to sleep?”

Time braced for some acidic retort when Legend opened his mouth, an apology for overstepping already sitting on the tip of his tongue. Instead, the kid let out a choked little sob, and it all came tumbling out. Another surprising show of trust, another surprise that shouldn’t quite have been one. Out came disjointed tales of a fish, and a dream, and sitting with his uncle in the tunnels underneath his castle. Tales of how, every time he tried to help people—every time he even got close to them—he somehow made everything worse, and death followed after. Time didn’t have any advice for him, but he listened, and eventually, Legend had worn himself out enough that he managed to doze off in his lap.

Morning found them in the same position. Time stared at the sun as it began to rise in the eastern portion of the sky, and he begged it to rise a little slower, so that the vet could get just a few more precious minutes before it woke him and reset this awful cycle.

But Hylia had never been very kind to her heroes. And the sun rose, Legend awoke, and another restless day started.