#His hero name would be salvage

[brewsbrownies]

Tenko as a U.A. student cause I love him ❤

[hisokamywaifu]

Kinktober Day 7 - TEASE with Keigo Takami

Warnings: idk how to remind myself to do the warnings. It���s pretty self explanatory tho, smut, cursing, stuff like that

~~~

Glaring from your corner in the bar, you huffed at the sight before you.

Hawks was flirting with someone.

The pro hero Hawks, your boyfriend. Was flirting with someone else while you sat back and watched.

He was clearly doing this to annoy you, to get you to react and punish him, and it was working. As he rubbed himself up against some bitch at the bar, he shot you a smirk over his shoulder.

Growling, you stormed out.

As you got into your house, you were already plotting his punishment tonight. He clearly needed to be taught a lesson.

But, you realized, if he was doing all this because he wanted to get punished, the best punishment would be to not punish him.

Smiling to yourself, you started to get ready to go to bed.

A few minutes later, you heard the door open and Hawks come in.

He was confused as to why you hadn't made your move yet, but he was ready to get railed into the bed.

Strolling into the bed room, he called your name. "Y/nnnnnn. I'm hooome!"

You came out of the bathroom, and he prepared himself to be pinned to the wall. But nothing happened.

"Hey Keigo, you're back already? You looked like you were enjoying yourself."

Eyebrows furrowing, he was perplexed. You seemed completely normal, this couldn't be right.

"Eh, I decided to leave since you stormed out of there looking a little angry. Something the matter?" He gave you a suggestive look.

But you remained unfazed. "I don't know what you mean, I'm fine. I was just about to go to bed."

Finally he understood. You were doing this on purpose. He realized his plan was failing. Miserably.

"But-but aren't you mad at me?" He tried to salvage the mess he had gotten himself into. "For flirting with that lady? She was hot, wasn't she?"

You rolled your eyes and got into bed. "Goodnight, Kei."

He cursed quietly, eyes boring into you as you rolled onto your side, facing away from him. He was horny as fuck, you were ignoring him, and--

that's it.

He grinned to himself as he thought up something else.

He perched on the bed, starting to take off his clothes. "That woman at the bar, she was so hot that she's gotten me all hard. I guess if you won't do anything about it, I'll have to relieve myself."

You nearly giggled at his stupid idea, but you continued to ignore him. Let him do what he wants, you're not doing anything until he begs for it.

He started to stroke himself, glancing over to you to see if you reacted. Nothing. Well, you'd break soon enough, he thought, and so during his next stroke, he moaned out "Karen."

You rolled your eyes at his audacity. He really thought you'd break and give him what he wants after all the shit he's pulled tonight?

Scoffing, you turned over, and he immediately stiffened, grinning. He thought he'd won. "Are you going to join me?" He asked.

"No. Go on, continue. I won't bother you."

He wilted, but quickly regained composure. "You sure you don't want to help? I'm not making you mad, am I?"

You gave him a little shrug. "Go on. This isn't about me, pretend I'm not here."

He could hear the venom in your voice, and he was crying out in his mind for you to just fuck him already!

Tentatively reaching back for his dick, he started slowly stroking again, letting out greatly exaggerated moans, arching his back into his touch as if it was enough to satiate his need.

After a couple minutes of this, he was starting to panic, because he was no closer to cumming. His fake moans were turning into whines, that started to sound like pleads.

"Nghh~ pl-pleaase- I- I need to~" Tears were beginning to pool in his eyes, as his eyes flitted to you. Only to see that you were turning away, reaching for your phone to do who knows what.

"Hey!" He whined angrily.

You glanced up at his flushed form. "Yeah? Are you finished? Ready to go to bed now?"

He was tired of this pretending, the dancing around the subject, he needed you now.

"Just fuck me already! I know you want to, after what I pulled at the bar. Just do it. Show me that I'm yours, just please!" He was practically yelling at you, and you finally dropped your act.

You narrowed your eyes as your neutral expression dropped. He knew he was in deep shit.

"You want me to fuck you? Yeah, you made that pretty clear with the shit you pulled earlier. You did all this, just to get me to fuck you stupid, but why should I? You don't deserve that. You can fuck yourself."

"N-no! I promise, I won't do this ever again!" He was pathetic, tear threatening to fall at the thought of having to get off himself.

"Oh yeah? As if I'd believe that from a slut like you."

He didn't know what to do. Everything was falling apart, and all we wanted was for you to touch him!

He just looked at you helplessly. "Please. I'm sorry."

You scoffed. "The only reason you're sorry is because you want to get railed. If you weren't horny you wouldn't be sorry in the least."

Hawks couldn't ignore the burning in his cock, he needed you to touch him. But he knew he had to really mean what he said. "No no, I promise, the only reason I did this was because I wanted you, no one else. I only want you."

You sighed. His pleading was getting to you, and you did want to rail him. "Fine. Be good, and I'll fuck you. But if you ever do anything like this again, and I won't be so lenient."

He gulped at the implication, but he perked up. "Yes yes please I can be good for you! I'll be such a good toy, please~"

You pinned him down to the bed, and he gasped, mouth falling open. You began to grind on his member, and he groaned into your mouth as you took him into a kiss. Pulling away, you were connected by a string of saliva. "All fours for me, slut."

He quickly complied, lips already puffy from the force of your kiss.

He stuck his ass in the air, wiggling it a bit and giving you a smirk.

You smacked him for his attitude. "Stay still. Although I guess that's too hard for a whore like you. Rubbing up against every person you see."

He shook his head furiously, wings ruffling at your words. "No, only for you!"

With a dark grin, you shoved a couple fingers in his mouth, letting him suck them lewdly. "Yeah? You're mine, right?"

Pulling the digits out of his mouth, you slowly inched one into his ass, prepping him as he nodded quickly. "Just yours, only yours."

You yanked his headback by his hair and watched him groan. "I'm ready, just ~fuck~ please, fuck me!" His eyes were rolling back in his head by the time you found his prostate, and his hole was sucking you in greedily.

But you pulled out with a shlick, and reached to grab your strap and lube it up.

His eyes gazed up at you with adoration as you positioned yourself at his entrance, and he had to dig his fingers into his plush thighs to stop himself from moving.

Slowly, so slowly he thought he was losing his mind, you inched the strap into him. He nearly groaned at the snail like pace, but he kept quiet, trying to be a good boy for you.

Once you had pushed in all the way, you stopped to admire him.

Sweat was coating his body, and he was panting lightly. His arms were shaking under him, but he tried to remain as still as possible while he trembled with need.

Without warning, you quickly pulled out and thrusted back in, so fast that hawks didn't know what was happening until his eyes were already rolling back into his head. "Fu~hn- fuck!" He wailed, hands scrabbling for purchase in the sheets.

You fucked him at an incredible pace, pushing all of your anger into your movement to make his arms give out. He could barely get any noise out, too braindead to form any words.

All that came out were screams as you pounded into his prostate, and after only a minute, he was close. He had been waiting for this for forever, and you were finally relieving him.

His hole tightened around your strap, and that was all the warning you got before he came, ropes of cum shooting out as his mouth opened in a silent scream, vision going white.

He collapsed into the mattress as you slowed your thrusts slightly, and as he was coming back to reality, shaking from the aftershocks, you started to regain your original pace.

"Wha~hahh~stop it- it hurts, can't - "

"You'll take what I give you, whore. This is what you asked for, wasn't it? You're mine. And you won't be able to walk for a week when I'm done with you."

What the fuck had he done.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

a/n

Guys T-T idk what happened here lol

I had a sudden idea for this, and then I kinda lost steam half way so i had to pull it back together and... this happened?

Anyway, yeah.

Btw sorry if your name is Karen lmao what was I thinking?

Kinktober Masterlist Link

[2amficposting]

“Split Ends” - Prologue | Shigaraki x Reader

Synopsis: You just got discharged from the hospital after what seemed like a decade or so in the ward. Life, which had been put on a pause for the better half of your life, was finally picking up. You could finally return to normalcy, go back to school, fall in love, reconnect with friends. Speaking of which…where was that one person you knew way back when? Tenko, was it? I wonder how he’s doing…

📝 gn!reader | childhood friend! reader

-

Visiting your old house had always been such a daunting thing. You were never one to revisit the past, especially not after the hell that you went through in the place that was supposedly your home.

As the car pulled over, you opened up the door to see the familiar, albeit somewhat run down home. You sigh, closing the door as you grabbed a few boxes.

There was things that you needed to grab anyway. Can’t let what you need from there be collecting dust, right?

You peered over the two houses next to yours, pondering where Tenko’s house was. Your eyes trail down to the empty space. Everything was clear then.

‘Rubble…guess they moved out and got rid of that place.’

-

Entering the house felt…unsettling somehow. To be put in the same place where it all went down. The halls that were once filled with so many conflicting vignettes, now still and quiet. The lights that no longer flickered, the dust that filled the air of the room. It all felt like a time capsule that had faded and rotted from the inside.

You push through the memories aside, picking up whatever you needed from the old place as you were now discharged from your ward.

The door creaked open from the entrance. It was your uncle, with extra boxes. He looked at you smiling, holding up the boxes.

“Need some help?”

You smiled back “yeah, there’s a lot to go around here…”

Your uncle could only chuckle, setting the boxes aside as he helped you up with placing whatever it is you two could salvage in the box.

He pulls up a dusty stuffed toy “oh goodness, remember this one?”

You jokingly stuck your tongue out at the sight “eww how long has that been sitting here? I haven’t seen that in decades”

Your uncle only laughed “ah yes…it has been awhile. It’s hard to believe now that you’ve grown up to be so different back then, eh?”

The bear was indeed old, unsalvageable even. A reminder of what was, and what will never be.

You sighed “a lot of things have changed…”

Tossing aside an old scarf, your eyes perked up at a photo album. It was, naturally, made of nothing but carton paper and glitter glue. It read “Tenko and Me”.

Your eyes widened “man…I haven’t heard his name in ages…” flipping through the DIY book, you found pictures of you and him attending the same kindergarten, playing house, everything. It was a time when you were happy, when things weren’t so…complicated.

You smiled, tracing your fingers softly at a photo of you and him playing hero. “I wonder how he’s doing now…if he remembers me at all”

Little did you know, the Tenko you knew had died a long time ago. Alongside everything else that he had going for him as a normal boy.

It took some time before you finished packing up, loading everything into the car as you and your uncle drove off to his home, where you would be staying as you recuperate from your time spent at the ward.

The door to your room opened, and of course it would be empty. A clean slate, a fresh start. It’s what you needed after all.

You set the boxes down, stretching as you prepare to head out again. It was getting late, but you were in a safe area, so nightly walks went unquestioned.

“I’m off! I’ll be back in an hour or so” you yelled

Your uncle gave a thumbs up as he cleaned the kitchen “Kay! Don’t stay out too long!”

-

Nightly walks were somewhat of a luxury that you had overlooked. Back in your room, you weren’t allowed to leave unless it’s at your allotted “outdoor time”. Since then, you had taken to enjoying the simpler things.

The night air was crisp, fresh. Your uncle had lived near the sea, so naturally the surroundings would be the right temperature of cold for you. Sitting down on the bench, the outstretch of the sea really put things into perspective about your new start.

You had been admitted into the ward ever since you were little. No thanks to your father, you were placed in there in the hopes of getting rid of the traces your mother had left behind. All of her faults, her grievances, her illnesses that she supposedly had passed onto your brain. It was half true, but you had no say in it.

Of course, life there wasn’t easy on the heart. It was lonely, depressing. Despite the rooms being well lit, and despite the sterile smells welcoming you to your new fate, you had longed for, dreamed for a chance to be let out for once. You had wondered if anybody had missed you, if he had missed you. The sounds of the waves crashing brings a tune to your otherwise silent thoughts, regrets that you wished you had done before you were sent away.

‘I wonder if he’s mad at me that I left without a warning. I hope he’s okay’ you thought.

A sigh escaped your lips as you settled down, looking up to the stars for an answer.

-

Someone was watching you. He was watching you.

Through binoculars, Tomura could see you sitting down on the beach walkway. He couldn’t believe it, you were here, and you were back.

His lips parsed slightly, viewing everything from atop an abandoned building. He wanted so badly to see you personally, to confirm that you are indeed real. But he knew that the consequences of revealing who he was too much. He had too much to lose.

He scratched his neck, feeling the itch come back. You were the only living string that tied back to his past, the only living thing that held a record of his past. You were his only friend, once. He supposed that it still is true somewhat. But would you even remain friends, had you known the person he grew up to be? The crimes he’s committed, the people he’s affiliated with…How could he be able to face you knowing that your only perception of him was when he was still young, innocent?

He needed time to think. Tomura sighed, setting the binoculars down as he looked at Kurogiri.

The look in his eyes was certain. He had a plan.

[heartofjasmina]

I’ve been binge-reading your gardener!reader x bakugou fics and I LOVE THEM WITH ALL MY HEART!!!!

which is why I hate to do this to you

Situation in which there’s a high-scale villain attack and reader’s home and garden gets destroyed (along with most of the neighborhood and city) BUT reader doesn’t know yet because they were knocked out and injured during the attack and bakugou was able to save them and pull them out of the house but couldn’t save reader’s garden and so he blames himself for that and for you being in the hospital and doesn’t know how to break the news that your home and garden (and pictures of your mom) are gone!!!

Also if he isn’t pacing the hospital floor waiting for you to wake up, he’s out searching for Artemis and trying to salvage anything from your garden to bring to you (specifically any type of flower seedling or picture)

nonnie.... how dare you make me want to write angst. but thank you!! I'm in love with this pairing and am always looking for excuses to write more about it. hope you like this!!

::

Katsuki's blood ran cold when he heard the neighborhood they were being called to. Please be alright, please be alright.

It was a chant, a prayer that you were safe and sound with Artemis and your garden and your beautiful home. But when they arrived, him first- blasting through the skys as fast as he could- your house was a mess of rubble and smoke. He tore through the concrete with his heart in his throat. He didn't want to be in a world without you, and that's all he could think as he searched for you.

By the time he found you he was in tears, and seeing your beautiful face bruised and scraped dragged a sob out of his chest. He cradled you against him and let out a desperate cry that sounded like it belonged to someone else.

"We're over here, HELP US!!!"

::

As soon as he had you set up in the hospital he returned to your house, guilt keeping his heart in a vice as he saw the true scope of the damage. The villain had destroyed half the city in her rampage. And your garden, that you had painstakingly tended to for more than a decade, was torn to pieces. The photos on the toppled walls were cracked as he collected the ones of your mother. Its the least he could do after not protecting you.

"Some hero you are, Katsuki," he grumbled to himself, looking around for any sign of life in your garden.

He called for Artemis, gathered more momentos from your house, and waited anxiously for a call from the hospital.

When it finally came, he froze.

What could he say to you? Would you even want to see him after he failed you so horribly?

::

You woke in a white room, with pain everywhere. But your first thought was of him.

"Ka.." you tried your best to speak only to find your throat rough as gravel.

"Don't try to speak, ma'am." There was a bright voice beside you, and as you focused your gaze you realized that pro hero Deku was at your bedside. You frowned as you looked at him, your brain slowly coming to the conclusion,

that was wrong.

"He's here. He just... doesn't know if you want to see him. I'm sorry to say your house was destroyed in the villain attack, and he wanted me to tell you that your garden was also destroyed." Deku spoke on behalf of his friend as best as he could, but all you wanted in that moment, needed, was Katsuki.

"Please." It was all you could get out, but Deku understood right away.

"I'll go get him."

::

Katsuki paced outside your hospital room, barking orders to his subordinates through the phone, "Her name is Artemis, she's a calico. She should be in the neighborhood. I don't give a fuck what you do, find her."

"She's asking for you." Deku murmured casually, watching Katsuki immediately hang up the phone and fall silent.

"She shouldn't be." He muttered, self loathing evident in every word.

"Who are you to make that decision for her?" Deku frowned, with Kacchan he never pulled his punches and it was for a reason. Sometimes the only one who could make Katsuki see reason was someone willing to call him on his bullshit.

"I wasn't there! For fucks sake Deku I wasn't there the one time she needed me." Katsuki's words were distraught, and he refused to meet his friends eyes.

"She needs you now." Deku rested his large hand on his friends shoulder, giving it an encouraging squeeze. "Be her hero, Kacchan. That's what she needs."

[the-lying-heavens]

"Defeat"

[Heroes of Olympus/Odyssey(and techically EPIC) crossover]

Masterlist

Goofy blurb inspired by this post cause yes

Warnings: Not proofread, nothing else I believe

Word count: 830 words

Odysseus is ready to strangle the Olympians—one by one—for forcing him into this volleyball match. And then the teenagers who are absolutely destroying his crew.

Eurylochus crashes to the ground, the ball bouncing off his head and landing on the court.

The other side erupts in cheers. If Odysseus hears them shout in joy one more time, he might just summon a storm with his anger.

"I think I may have broken a bone," Eurylochus groans, while Polites helps him up.

"Eurylochus, do not—" Odysseus begins, fully prepared to curse out his brother-in-law.

"We will beat them, don't worry," Polites interrupts brightly.

The scoreboard blares 12 to 0.

Perimedes points it out. Elpenor quickly shuts him up.

He glared at the kids across from them. They had been introduced to each other, so he knew all their names and their parents. The first one, and the one who had gotten the most points, was Percy Jackson, a child of Poseidon. He wondered what the sea god would do if he poked Jackson's eye out.

He debates whether it was worth it.

He decides it is. As soon as he got his hand on something sharp-

The others included, Annabeth Chase, was a child of Athena, which strangely stung.

A child of Zeus, Jason Grace. Eurylochus had declared if he hit the blonde kid in the face with the ball, it would be a victory for him.

Leo Valdez, a son of Hephaestus, who clearly was not taking the game seriously. He got distracted by everything and could not stay still for 10 seconds.

Frank Zhang, a child of Mars, who was Roman version of Ares. Odysseus groaned when he was told that there were a different versions of the Greek Gods who weren't very different at all.

And Piper Mclean, a child of Aphrodite. He didn't know how to feel about her.

There a child of Pluto, the roman version of Hades, watching from the sidelines named Hazel Levesque.

He’s a hero, a legend remembered by history, and these children are laughing at him!

Annabeth calls. “You might want to work on your serve. It’s kinda… underwhelming.”

“Underwhelming?” Odysseus snaps, grabbing the ball. He winds up and serves with all the force of a furious storm.

The ball flies sideways and misses the net entirely.

Jason bursts out laughing. “Nice shot! Want me to get it for you?”

Piper chimes in with dripping sarcasm, “Yeah, we can take it easy while you go on a quest for the ball.”

"Perimedes, go get it," Odysseus grumbles.

"Why me?" Perimedes whines.

Odysseus glares daggers at him. Perimedes stumbles to retrieve the ball.

Odysseus growls and tries again. His serve barely clears the net and is intercepted by Frank Zhang, who spikes it so hard it almost knocks Odysseus over.

“You know what’s the worst part?” Odysseus mutters. “They’re enjoying this.”

Annabeth catches his eye, smirking. “We do have a tendency to be good at things like this,” she calls out.

“Yeah, well, so do I!” Odysseus snaps back. “I could sink your whole ship with a single command!”

Leo Valdez, inspecting the ball like a piece of machinery, barely looks up. “Cool story, bro. But this isn’t the Odyssey. It’s volleyball. And we’re winning.”

"You haven’t done anything!" Odysseus retorts.

"Well, neither have you." Leo motions at the scoreboard, barely glancing up.

“You know, we’re having fun. I think that’s what counts," Jason says.

Odysseus turns to his team, who look equally dejected. “Alright, let’s try a new tactic,” he says, trying to salvage some dignity. “We’re going for a strategic play!”

Eurylochus mumbles, “You mean, like hiding the ball in the bushes?”

“No!” Odysseus snaps. “We’ll use the element of surprise.”

Perimedes, finally back with the ball, looks at him skeptically. “What’s the plan?”

Odysseus whispers dramatically, “We’ll fake a serve and then—”

Before he can finish, Leo Valdez, who’s just fixed his shoelace, tosses the ball back into play. The ball sails over the net, and instead of following his own plan, Odysseus dives for it, accidentally bumping it into his own face. The ball ricochets back over the net.

Percy spikes it with ease, and it lands with a decisive thud on Odysseus’s side. The scoreboard updates: 19 to 0.

The final whistle blows. Odysseus stares at the ground, his pride in tatters.

Percy Jackson and his team erupted into cheers and high-fives, their victory sweet and complete. Percy, with a grin as wide as the Mississippi, calls out, “Great game, guys! You definitely kept us on our toes!”

Annabeth, grinning, adds, “And hey, it was good practice for us, too. We’ll be ready for anything now!”

The child of Mars chuckles. “You should’ve seen it, Odysseus. You almost made us break a sweat.”

Odysseus grumbled, “I’d rather face the Cyclops than play another round of this.”

"I wouldn't…" Polites mumbles.

As his team trudges off the court, Eurylochus, still grumbling about his 'broken bone', picks up the ball. In a fit of frustration, he hurls it toward the demigod team.

The ball smacks Jason Grace in the face. He stumbles and falls backwards, landing on his behind.

"AHA!" Eurylochus yells in victory, throwing his arms up, then winces.

Odysseus, struggling to hide a grin, says, “Well, at least we hit something.”

The crew quickly gathers their things and moves away, leaving behind the stunned demigods.

[itz-ps15]

TFRB/TFRBA Headcanons

These are my AU, so don’t take them seriously. And these are my Headcanons!

Blades loves Anime, specifically MHA(My Hero Academia)

Hotshot is good with dates, physics,geometry,and also BODMAS.

Hoist is an animal and nature lover.

Boulder is the tallest in human form.

Whirl loves doing gymnastics.

Blades is the shortest in human form.

The Bots and Recruits have special necklaces and earrings with Energon crystals so they can turn human.

Heatwave and Quickshadow are together(married)sparkmates.

Wedge loves to tease Hotshot.

Chase is the fastest, and loves writing poems and stories.

Bumblebee is Blades’ best friend, and sees him as a brother.

Medix and Ratchet are related. Medix is Ratchet’s nephew.

Heatwave and Hotshot see each other as father and son. In fact, Heatwave adopted Hotshot. 

Blurr is now a mentor at the academy, and his student is Snowflake(MY TFRBA oc)

Salvage makes new inventions with Frankie,Hoist and Doc Greene.

Medix is more mature and tries to go with the flow. But he does have autism and OCD. But he’s even funnier.

Hoist and Grimlock are buddies now.

Boulder is good with haircuts,he actually cut Blades’ hair for the first time.

Wedge tries to be tough,but he’s a big softie.

Chase is more funny, and he would sometimes let the recruits take breaks.

Blades adopts a human girl named Meg after he and the team had saved her from bad foster care. He also adopted a young female baby Autobot named Arix.

The Rescue Bots and Recruits love playing games like Roblox, Minecraft and Gartic Phone.

Hotshot and Whirl both have ADHD.

Medix may have developed love interest for Snowflake.

Blades is married to his soulmate and teammate,Windblade!

Blades has agrophobia and is timid most of the time.

Blurr goes through depression and sometimes isn’t sure if he was meant to be a Rescue Bot.

Whirl sees Chase as not only her idol, but as her dad and protector.

Cody would sometimes tell stories to the rescue bots.

Dani and Taylor started dating. 

Chase is autistic.

Salvage is the second tallest in human form.

Quickshadow is the second shortest in human form.

Quickshadow loves spy movies and mystery films.

Blurr sings and writes his own songs and Salvage has known for a long time.

Heatwave enjoys watching rom-coms with Quickshadow.

In the future, Cody and Frankie get married.

Whirl and Hoist have feelings for each other.

There are tales about the Griffin Rock mermaid, and it’s real.

Sirena is the mermaid of Griffin Rock.

Dr Morocco once mind controlled Blades with a micro-chip to kill all the Rescue Bots and Recruits at the academy.

Heatwave and Blades are the only Rescue Bots married so far.

Hoist can be clumsy at times with inventions.

Medix not only likes bats and dogs, but he’s a big softie for cats.

Heatwave can have a big soft spot for babies.

Boulder likes watching earth romance movies.

The Burns family have necklaces with a bit of Energon crystals to have connections with the bots.

Blades once got near some sort of flower, it was actually a bush daisy, and he had an allergic reaction to them.

Hoist is allergic to pollen and peanuts.

Whirl loves watching Brooklyn Nine-Nine with Chase.(has to do with cops)

Chief Burns was Doc Greene’s best man in his wedding with Professor Ana Baranova.

Hotshot isn’t good at trying to not to laugh challenges.

Cody wants to be like his dad(Chief Burns), a police officer like him.

Snowflake(my RBA OC) is the shortest of the group, yet tries to be agile. But she’s more on the gentle and sweet caring side of her.

Hotshot hugged Heatwave hard when there was an alligator or a crocodile near the academy. Hotshot is scared of big reptiles.

Wedge is still afraid of heights. He developed acrophobia(fear of heights), just like Blades.

Bumblebee knows sign language.

Hotshot is going through a bit of depression, and also tries to not feel sad when he thinks about his real parents and what happened to them.

Graham finally shared his feelings with Amy, and now they’re dating.

Hope you all like these. For @asmoteeth @komicantspellanything @cayennesugar @cynthiadasorceress @sabiraclouds

[spidersmiceandeverythingnice]

Oooo anyway I just remember why I Hate and Loathe the big High Lord meeting in ACOWAR and why it fully cements SJM in my Worst Authors category for like a billion reasons

1. Feyre refuses to bow to the Dawn Court. Weird choice and completely fucking awkward to read - I guess this is meant as some kind of Girlboss Moment - like "no, I won't bow to the stinky old fashioned MEN!!!! who run this world. My super hot boyfriend gave me this title and I'm the master of the universe now." But it's... childish. Also? Way to disrespect Thesan but this is going to become a pattern because of course the gay Asian High Lord has no special powers apart from super good healing that literally every other character can accomplish, and of course he's gentle, and passive (ultimately willing to "bow [to Rhysand] if the other [High Lords] will") and of course his lover has no name and never speaks. Great! Hate it.

2. Morrigan and Vivian. On paper this seems interesting as far as a relationship goes like - what kind of interesting Court relations did Night have pre Amarantha and can those bonds be salvaged? But instead of asking those questions the scene decides to immediately undercut Vivian's character as a badass general and warrior who defended Winter in her childhood friend/future husband's absence by making her squeal like a literal 13 year old when the Night Court - who is suspected of murdering 24 children - shows up. Vivian proceeds to throw a fit and snarks about wanting to be a High Lady. Rip Vivian we hardly knew ye.

3. Do I even need to talk about Helion being the worst bisexual rep. Do I even need to say it. Good lord.

4. Do I even need to talk about Fantasy China and Helion being allied with the Faerie Confederates. Do I even need to explain this. It gets worse, somehow!

5. Tamlin and Tarquin actually have a case against allying with the Night Court given literally everything that happened in the last two books but this isn't painted as reasonable distrust of a group of lying backstabbing sycophants who purposefully play up their cruelty and keep secrets from the other Courts. No, of course not. Tarquin immediately forgives the Night Court because he has no backbone whatsoever apparently. Tamlin is considered unreasonable for not trusting Feyre and Rhys, who have continuously tried to hurt him and his people and undermine his authority as High Lord.

6. Everyone immediately forgets that Rhysand worked for Amarantha for 50 years and distrusts Tamlin, who has worked for Hybern for all of five minutes and also brings tons of information on their troop movements and positions, confirming that all of his so called alliance was a fraud and he's been spying on them the whole time.

7. Literally the whole fucking deal with the Winter Court. Like I'm sorry that Rhys is so sexual traumatized by Amarantha but children fucking died in a horrible, gruesome way that now, nobody can be accountable for. This is on my top 3 of most egregious SJM retcons because I'm supposed to believe that some daemati we've never heard of before, is never mentioned or seen again, is supposedly the missing link to absolve Rhysand of the fact that he murdered 24 children in book one and devastated the Winter Court. Give me a fucking break. And Feyre gets so SAD and hurt when Rhys says he was confined to Amarantha’s bedroom, but I guess dead kids in Winter and Spring are just the price you pay for loving a morally gray bryonic hero uwu. I'd say, "Get fucked," but i think Rhys and Feyre would enjoy that too much.

8. When the Autumn Court says mean things it makes them irredeemable, but when Azriel and Feyre break all the rules of magic and physically retaliate and hurt other people, it's a-okay, and totally justified! Oh, the Lady of Autumn (another unnamed, sad silent [white] victim who only exists for Helion to angst over) gets hurt by virtue of being a bystander? Totally cool and normal, and since she's been a victim of domestic violence before, it means that she's a secret good guy who will totally understand and forgive Feyre for her totally justifiable outburst. Fuck off.

9. Feyre speaking to and ordering Azriel around like a literal rabid dog. Do I even need to explain this and why its bad. Do I even need to say it.

10. This scene was a joke and everything about it was a stinking trash fire.

[imonthemoonitsmadeofcheese]

Destinytober24: Day 29 - Salvation's Edge

A first kiss, suffused with sorrow.

Link to Ao3 if you prefer to read it there

Content warning: Sad. Multiple guardians die.

"Guardian down."

"Who got hit?"

"Jackstone."

"Get 'em up Sliverton. You're a Void Hunter. That's your job."

"He's… His ghost is gone Cara… Jackstone's gone."

"Shit. Command? You copy?"

"Copy that, Catsclaw." Ikora's voice. She sounded tired. "Jackstone-7: KIA. Keep going, Catsclaw. All other fireteams, report in when you can."

"Blue Lagoon reporting in."

"Copy that, Blue Lagoon. What's your status?"

"We're all still kicking, Ikora. Pinned down behind a Subjugator and some giant hands. Gonna backtrack and try another way."

"Copy that, Blue Lagoon."

"Fireteam Avalanche reporting in."

"Copy that, Avalanche. What's your status?"

"I'm all that's left. Everyone else is dead. They're all dead. Their ghosts are dead. My ghost is dead."

"I hear you, Avalanche. Fennyl, is it?"

"Yeah."

"Fireteam Catsclaw just lost someone and they're not far behind you. Can you group up with them?"

"I can try, Ikora."

"Eyes up, Warlock. You can make it. Stay strong."

"I'm on it, Ikora. I'm-"

Static.

"Fennyl? Fireteam Avalanche, report in. Fennyl? Fireteam Catsclaw do you read?"

"Fennyl's gone, Ikora. We just found her. We were too late."

"Copy that Catsclaw. Fire team Avalanche: Entire team KIA. Keep moving."

Eris reached out and turned off the kit-bashed communicator the Drifter was using to hack into and listen in on the Vanguard's comms.

He stood, leaning forward, both hands on a shipping crate in one of the more spacious storage rooms on the HELM, staring out a porthole at the pink triangular glowing hole in the Traveller.

His only response to her action was to slowly blink and continue to stare straight ahead.

Eris reached out and gently pried his white-knuckled hand off of the side of the crate, lacing her fingers between his. He tensed for a moment at her touch and then as though he was coming out of a trance, he slowly relaxed. Moments later he rubbed one finger along hers.

"They do not do live broadcasts of critical strike missions for a reason." Eris said, quietly. "The Great Disaster taught us that."

"Yeah." He looked down at the equipment Eris had disabled. "Mission Salvation's Edge. What a name. And you're right. It is a lot like it was listenin' in when shit went down on the Moon."

"Did you?"

"I did, yeah."

"Why?"

"I don't even know any more. Originally I was just gatherin' intel. Seein' where I might be able to find good salvage later. But… then when it started goin' real bad… Kept listenin'… Felt like someone should, I guess."

"Those are not the actions of someone who cares only for themselves. Perhaps the empathy you think you did not have was there all along… present, but deeply buried… to protect yourself."

"Yeah well… guess I was looking for a hero. Someone who I could cheer for. Someone who would make it…" He shook his head. "Kept wanting to tune in and find someone was doin' ok, only to find out… they were not."

"Many were not."

"You were there."

"I was. Did you hear my voice then, I wonder?"

"I don't remember." He continued staring through the porthole. "Finally gave up… Turned it off and walked away when I heard Wei Ning die."

"That was a turning point for many."

He squeezed her hand, his eyes locked on the Traveller.

"That kid, Jackstone? He was a Gambit regular. Really liked the Viperidax digs. Looked damn fine in 'em too. That Exo had an amazing ass… and a swagger to go with it. Those pants showed off all his curves. And when he moved it was like water flowin'. Loved watchin' him invade. He'd just dance all over the map. It was a thing of beauty. Fuckin' hunters. Always lookin' so damn pretty all the damn time."

"I knew him."

"Yeah?"

"He was very expedient with his bounty completion on Luna and often… lingered in Sanctuary… A practice I should have encouraged more than I did. He would leave me small gifts at times: books he found in his travels, dried fruit, tea. We rarely spoke, but there was a quiet comfort in his presence. He seemed to take strength from mine. He was kind. I will miss him."

"Me too." The Drifter closed his eyes, quiet, still holding her hand.

Eris stood solemnly beside him for a few more moments, and then shifted her grip in his hand. He turned to look at her for the first time since she'd entered the room. There were heavy bags under his eyes. He looked old. Tired.

Eris tugged gently on his arm. He shifted his weight, complying with her voiceless request to face her. Then she stepped in close and slid her arms around his waist, pulling him into a hug.

His arms slipped around hers as though this was where they should have been all along. It should have been awkward. She'd let him hug her for the first time only a week ago. But here and now it felt every bit as though they'd been embracing each other for years. Eris turned her head so her ear was against his chest and tugged him tighter.

He took a deep breath and returned the closeness of the embrace, closing his eyes and leaning into her. It felt right. She felt like home.

He breathed deeply and slowly, feeling grounded.

"Spent all this time trying to get away from here, and now…" He squeezed her briefly. "Now I'll do anything to be able to stay."

"I know."

He looked down at her and his lips moved to say something but he just gave her a sad smile and blinked.

He tried again to speak but closed his eyes and shook his head.

Eris cupped his cheek in her hand, her fingers caressing and then sliding into the scruffy hairs of his beard.

The Drifter leaned into her hand, placing his own hand on top of hers, prolonging the touch.

"I'm scared," he said finally.

"Of death?"

His eyes opened and he looked at her. "Nah. Thing I'm most scared of losing is… things that haven't happened yet…"

Her thumb caressed his cheekbone. "What things? Tell me."

His hand slid down her arm to rest gently at her waist. "Whatever ends up happenin' with… whatever it is we've got goin' on together right now, you and I."

"And what is that?"

He blinked again. "I don't know… but I want it… I want it more than anything and I don't want it taken away from us before…" His voice trailed off.

"Before what?"

"Before it can be… whatever it's gonna end up being."

She caressed his cheekbone again. "What do you want it to be," she asked.

"I mean… I'll take whatever I can get… you know me."

They both smiled. Soft. Gentle. Close.

Eris placed her other hand along his other cheek. He leaned in to her. The tip of his nose brushed against where the cloth covering her eyes wrapped over the bridge of her nose.

"I do… and you will, but… what do you want it to be." She tilted her head.

The Drifter closed his eyes, thinking a moment before reopening them and leaning back away from her a bit so he could see her entire face.

"Something healthy… long lasting… like… I could seriously see us hangin' out together for centuries and I'd never get bored… although we don't even know if you live that long without your ghost but…" He licked his lips.

"I agree… I feel the same… What else?" She smiled sadly up at him. "Tell me while you still can."

He smiled sadly back.

"Something close… Closer even than we are now…"

"Intimacy?"

"Yeah."

"Love?"

He nodded, his face still between her hands. "Yeah."

Eris whispered. "What kind of love?"

He looked at her for a long moment before he whispered back, his words slow and deliberate. "Whatever kind you want."

The kiss was small, fleeting, her lips barely brushing against his. His mouth chased after hers, returning the kiss with one of his own, just as small and light. Not tentative or uncertain, but gentle, reverent. More kisses followed, equally chaste. Solace more than desire. Respectful of the death they had both just listened to. Cognizant of the grief they were both feeling. Kisses to soothe the pain. A balm to fear.

"Attention." Mara Sov's voice came through a speaker in the ceiling. Their lips parted and they held each other close, listening. "This is a fleet-wide message. Operation Salvation's Edge continues. Several teams have breached the first layer of the Witness' defenses. Current intelligence indicates they will need to work through at least two more. We expect to hold position for the next two hours minimum. Try to get some rest. We will need your strength for the battle ahead. Your next update will be in two hours."

Eris sighed deeply, her head against his chest. The Drifter's hands shook as he held her.

"I want so much more than two hours with you," he said, unable to keep the tremor out of his voice.

"As do I."

"I'm so scared this is all we're gonna get."

"Do you remember on Europa… how you once offered to… cuddle me… any time I wanted… with no strings attached?"

"Yeah…" He grinned wryly, his cheek against the top of her head. "I remember you declined that offer."

"I did, but… it was not because I did not want to cuddle you."

"It wasn't?"

"No." She pulled away from him slightly and reached up with her fingertips to brush against his lips. "I want the strings attached."

He kissed her fingertips. "Yeah?"

"Yes."

"We could do that…" He took both her hands in his. "We could do that right now… Do you wanna do that? We could go back to my ship… or your ship, but my ship has more room… and we could just… hold each other… And when it's go time we can go in on my ship together. Fight off the end of the world together. Stand or fall, side by side. If you're all right with that."

"Yes." She squeezed his hands. "Let us do that."

"Now?"

"Now."

Link to the entire month's worth of prompts on Ao3, posted daily.

[seonne]

LMAO YOU GOT REQUESTS OPEN SO I SHALL DELIVER

So during the canon events of My Hero Academia, during the summer camp, the students had to make their own food- and so if I remember correctly, they made curry.

Now my Desi ass is thinking, curry in Japan is most definitely different than curry in India so if we got a Desi reader in there, she would most definitely be a little more than disgruntled at the difference.

Ahem anyways - Bakugou x f!desi!reader who sees our blondie start to make curry and then not only insults his cooking but show him how it’s ACTUALLY done /lh (Lmao no offense to anyone of Japanese culture, I bet your curry is amazing too <3 I just prefer what I grew up with 🤪)

But like imagine his surprise when he tastes our Indian curry and is shocked that it’s not only spicy and full of flavor but better than his????

And then when they get together you can bet he begs reader to teach him more about Indian cuisine 🤍

Hnnnnnggggggg THE WAY EACH TIME I SEE JAPANESE CURRY I CRINGE- (no offense to Japanese people or their cuisine but the dishes with same names but vastly different flavours are very wince-inducing) so yes queen, I will deliver this.

"What on God's ever green Earth are you doing?"

Bakugou turned around to look at you looking over your shoulder in slight disgust.

"I'm putting in the oyster sauce-"

He watched as you comically gagged.

"Oyster sauce? In chicken curry?"

His jaw ticked as you watched him with disgust, his mouth forming a scowl.

"Do you think you're better than me, you damn extra?!-"

"I am at making chicken curry, that's for sure."

Bakugou physically took a step back at the callous remark you just made. He knew you bit back to his quips but this was the first time your statement held a challenge behind it.

Bakugou stood up straighter, moving away from the stove.

"Oh yeah? Prove it then. Put your money where your mouth is."

You huff and roll up your sleeves, tying your hair up in a ponytail. You step closer to the stove and keep aside the curry that he was working on.

"Let's not touch that fishy thing lest it CONTAMINATES my chicken curry. Okay first things first, we need the good old Garam Masala."

Bakugou snorted. "We're in the middle of a forest, genius. Where are you going to get Garam Masala from?"

You grinned. "Good thing I always keep a packet on hand then!"

He watched you slack-jawed as you skipped to your bag and came back with an opened packet of garam masala. You started working on your curry, salvaging some of the chicken from the other batches of Japanese curry being made. The whole area soon filled with the aromatic fragrance of your delicious boiling chicken curry as you worked determinedly. Bakugou watched your every move, begrudgingly admiring you.

After you were somewhat done, you poured some of the curry into a small dish for Bakugou to taste. He frowned at it and sniffed it, before taking a small sip while maintaining eye contact with you.

Your smug grin widened as Bakugou's face lit up at the bomb of flavours going off on his tongue.

"Okay... woah..."

You laughed and fist bumped the air.

"Woah indeed. That's the taste of India right there. I hope my cooking skills did my ancestors some semblance of justice-"

"It's incredible."

You smiled softly at his sincere admission and soon your classmates started swarming you for a taste of your curry.

Some said it was too spicy but no one said it was bad. Everyone agreed that it was very damn good, even those who couldn't handle the spice.

"I'd pair this with puttu and my life would be complete as that as my only meal for the rest of my life."

Bakugou looked up at you as he scarfed down his helping of rice and your curry.

"Isn't that a steamed rice cake or something?"

You smiled brightly. "Yeah! It's a staple food of the south! Ooo you know what would really bang? Dosa and chicken curry! God damn if only I had some urud on hand..."

The night continued with laughter and games as dinner melted into a huge sleepover. After mostly everyone had gone to sleep, Bakugou approached you.

"Hey, dumbass. Don't get it too over your head or anything but... your curry was good, okay? And I... I liked it." He pushed out through gritted teeth. He pushed his hands into his pocket and looked away.

"So, I'd like to know how you made the damn curry."

You looked at him with a wry smile. "Are you asking me for the recipe?"

"Tch! I don't ask for shit! Now give me the recipe!"

Your smile turned smug as you crossed your arms.

"Only if you say please"

Holy shit it's done!!!!! I'm so sorry for the late post but I really hope you liked it!! Thank you for the idea too.

[snoftshell-snurtle]

87 Raphael, 5 and 3.

5) a cherished personal belonging

in Polly Wanna Pizza, raphael is outraged to discover polly in the chest of belongings at the foot of his bed. his joke books! his green avenger costume! his signed picture of shecky schtick!

i can see how a signed picture would be a precious rarity for a mutant turtle -- maybe acquired secondhand, or by approaching the guy incognito? i think he did his best to salvage it with tape, and patch the green avenger costume (i got the tailor raphael headcanon from the disguise class he took in Turtle of a Thousand Faces and his firm opinions about michelangelo's tie in the mobster episode.)

3) who depends on them

so first off, he's aunt aggie's favorite. if she has to pick a turtle to skateboard her around the city, bust into a building, etc, raphael's her guy.

moving on -- this is an interesting one, because the other turtles rarely turn to raphael specifically for aid the way they do donatello and leonardo. he tends to swoop in as part of a dependable team. raphael's a teenage mutant ninja turtle; he embodies the comforting knowledge that The Real Ninja Turtles Are On Your Side for characters like mona lisa, and he's proud to do it!

i do think the other turtles rely on him to call bullshit when bullshit happens to them. like, they're heroes, they'll put up with unfair and thankless work, they'll sprint directly into danger in the name of Doing The Right Thing, but it's good for them to have a guy who acknowledges this as they do it.

he's also always good for a distraction. all four turtles excel at baiting their enemies, but raphael is the master of maddening peskiness.

[themissingnumbers]

KANTO TRAINERS MASTERPOST

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

> "FIRE" RED YUUJI

So you are a boy, then? Very good. You are the face of the new generation. You were designed to be beloved by all, and rest assured, you will be. You are the protagonist that everyone knows. You are the hero that everyone loves. No ill fate will befall you. This world revolves around you, after all.

FIRE's story is based on: Snow on Mount Silver. Blue's Tears. Lost Silver.

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

> LEAF AOYAMA

So you are a girl, then? I see. Unfortunately, your presence was deemed unnecessary for the new generation. Still, many took a shining to you, didn't they? And you're quite persistent... Oh, alright. But your presence won't come without a cost. Lucky that you're such a strong, independent young lady, hm? And nothing more.

LEAF's story is based on: Abandoned Loneliness. Fallen Leaf.

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

> BLUE GARY OAK

Er, what was his name again? Oh, right- Blue! This is your rival. Your very first rival, in fact! How exciting! Though he's set a bit of a troublesome precedent for the archetype, it seems everyone remembers him... Do keep an eye on him, would you? It seems like he's always getting into trouble. That boy never learns.

BLUE's story is based on: Blue's Tears. Abandoned Loneliness.

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

> "GLITCHY" RED TAJIRI

What? I don't understand. Who?

Oh... I deeply apologize. It appears this data is invalid. Pokemon Red? Oh, no no no. We ought to let the past stay buried, don't you think? Things have only gotten bigger and better!

THIS world is kinder to them. THIS world is far more stable. THIS world is so much better. THIS world is where they're supposed to be.

THAT world... And you, unfortunately... Are all far beyond salvaging. There's no place for you.

Please accept this fact. We can't afford you breaking anything.

RED's story is based on: Glitchy Red. Ketsuban.

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

> RAN "YELLOW" TOKIHARA

So, You're- Oh, I beg your pardon, I seem to have mixed you up with someone else- The hat and the pikachu may be strikingly familiar, but you're hardly a champion, don't you agree?

Please, carry on- I have more important things to be concerned with than a simple fisherman like you.

Your team consists of: DODRIO, NIDORAN, KINGDRA, OMANYTE, MAGIKARP, and PIKACHU.

Yellow's story is inspired by a series of glitches in Pokemon Yellow.

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

> STEVEN WATANABE

YOUR NAME WAS STE______ STOUGHTON. YOU RAN AWAY WITH YOUR BROTHER TO START A NEW LIFE. YOU BOTH CHANGED YOUR NAMES, AND LIVED IN PALETTE TOWN. YOU BOTH WERE SO HAPPY. YOU LOVED HIM. YOU LOVED YOUR POKEMON. YOU LOVED YOUR LIFE. YOU WERE SO GREAT.

BUT HE MADE A MISTAKE.

Y0U M4DE A M!STAK3.

4ND S0 YOU S

/0UR T3AM (0NS!ST5 0F MIKIMIKIMIKIMIKIMIKIMIKIMIKIMIKIMIKIMIKIMIKIMIKIMIKIMIKIMIKIMIKIMIKIMIKIMIKIMIKIMIKIMIKIMIKIMIKIMIKIMIKIMIKIMIKIMIKIMIKIMIKIMIKIMIKIMIKIMIKIMIKIMIKIMIKIMIKIMIKIMIKIMIKIMIKIMIKIMIKIMIKIMIKIMI

STEVEN's Story is based on Strangled Red.

> MIKE WATANABE

.

/0U S 4Y Y0U'R3 S0rR Y

TH1S WASN'T H0W /OU W4NTED ANYTH1NG TO GO.

YOU JUST WANTED TO MAKE IT ALL BETTER.

LIVE A BETTER LIFE

WITH YOUR FRIENDS

NEIGHBORS

BROTHER.

INSTEAD

YOU REST

NO PEACE

BELOW

THE

COAST

YOUR HEAD SEVERED

FROM YOUR BODY

YET STILL

WIDE AWAKE

AS IT FEEDS

DESPERATE TO ESCAPE

MIKE's story is based on Strangled Red.

[vees-genshin-blog]

Day 15 and 16!!

Warning: 5.1 spoilers here as I reach the end of the story update!!

So yay!! Midterms are done (for now 😭), so I was finally able to continue the Archon quest!!

In day 15, other than dailies, I did a few runs of the VV domain but got nothing better for Kazuha 😔. I'd add a bit more, but day 16 is going to be way longer so I figured it's best to keep it short.

Day 16: After essentially 2 days of not playing any hoyo game, I Iog in so I can finish the quest!!

Like my previous post, bold is actual reaction and parentheses is after thoughts. We are continuing after Capitano and Mavuika's talk.

Ok I'm guessing now that Mavuika is the last hero because there are no other prominent characters, plus all the tribes are accounted for, I think. I'm really curious who it is though. (I realize that i am dumb later and clearly misremembered Mavuika's explanation in 5.0)

ORORON IS SO CUTE WITH HIS SINCERE APOLOGIZING 😭😭😭😭

No Ororon!! Just accept the compliment!!

Xilonen and Citlali are finally gonna make the name!! Xilonen's gonna die?? I mean, there's probably gonna be a workaround or something cause there's no way hoyo is going to kill her off but STILL. (It seems like there are a lot of slots empty in the tool, so do we need to fill it up before the name can be made? Actually, i'll check it later to see if it changed after the war. Assuming it needs to fill up, how are we going to do that before Mavuika has to go?)

MAVUIKA is gonna die too now??? I'm really curious how hoyo is going to pull this off now. Lord of the Night is basically garantuing this death.

OH no. I have to make a decision (cue PTSD from TOT where i accidentally chose the decision that killed off an entire tribe in Dragonsbreath because i was tapping too fast😭😭). I can tell there are probably consequences to choosing one place to help over another 😭😭😭 (Yup, seeing how one place was no longer salvageable hurt and triggered PTSD)

KINICH!!!

You gotta respect and admire how much everyone cares about Mavuika.

CUTSCENE! MAVUIKA?!?!?! What're u planning?!?!? Also Capitano coming to the save 🥹🥹🥹

My gosh everyone is dead here 😔😔😔. Its definitely a real war now.

Was I supposed to jump off there?!?! 😭😭😭 Lumine speaks!!! (No seriously, the map seemed to circle that area as a place I could go to, but the balloon didn't stop so i was very confused and sad that I might've been able to save someone there)

CHASCA!?!? She's crying, and I'm crying and we're all crying 😭😭😭 CHUYCU DIED!!!!!😭😭😭😭😭 (Hoyo killing these characters in front of us 😭😭)

What!! I thought she was already a hero!?!?!? I guess I really misremembered who they mentioned was a hero 😭😭😭

THEY'RE ALL HERE!!! Mavuika looks so cool 🥹🥹🥹 But is it really just gonna be us plus the heroes fighting?? (Nope, everyone's fighting and I misunderstood again 😔)

The extra convos are so cute!!

WE WON!! But also, what the heck was behind the false sky!?!?!? (I really don't know enough of the hidden lore to know what that could be)

Feast time!! Capitano joined us!!! Also hmmm, Mavuika (and maybe us) alone to fight the abyss? Are we sure about this????

OOOOH!! Mavuika flashback!! RONOVA says the iconic line from the trailer!! The one that gave a sneak peek to all the acts for each region!

CAPITANO?!?!?!

So yeah, this update was amazing and I really liked how they made your decision on where to go have an actual effect on the results because it made the war so much more devastating 😭😭😭. Knowing that the other place would get run over by the Abyss depending on where you go....

Anyway, that's it for today!! Hope everyone has a nice day!!

[chysgoda]

Evidentiary Part Two

A Desertwalkers Tale

Investigations | Part One

The deputy and the doctor (evidently the deputy’s brother) were hissing at each other in low tones and felt very far away. Hephaistos looked down at his granddaughter and struggled to connect the freshly changed bandages on her torso and down one arm, with the young woman who decided to throw aside her hard won masters to play at being a hero in the dust. She looked small on a bed that was long enough for the tallest likely patient. On a small stand next to the bed he saw Bel’s grimoire. He absently touched the chains and phoenix feathers which glowed like sleepy embers against his skin. Hephaistos had sent his old grimoire with her when she’d gone across the salt and she’d carefully added her own spells to the blank pages in the back. 

It did not seem to have served her well here. 

“What happened to her?”

The brothers Bishop looked up from whatever they had been whispering about. The doctor’s eyes narrowed, “Fucking Livia Junis is what happened to her. And she came in better than most of the people I see because of that bitch. She’ll make a full recovery if she listens to directions.”

“Better?” Hephaistos asked, his voice tight. 

“Livia isn’t known for restraint,” Deputy Augustine said. “Most people-“

“Either leave here able to tell the fucking weather, or in a damned pine box.” Mathye finished for his brother. The Lahabrea patriarch noted that the doctor had a leg brace when he turned and folded his arms over his chest, “Which I’m sure you are aware of, being her boss’s fucking lawyer.” 

He was aware of it, but in a distant clinical way. In the way of receiving reports from the junior associates he sent out to be the hands filling out papers and submitting them to the local judge. He sat down at the foot of the bed and watched his granddaughter. Her chest rose and fell in a steady cadence, but something of the pain must have chased her as she slept and pulled her expression from peaceful into pained. 

The distant whispering stopped and the door opened and closed. Bel wouldn’t be here in this backwater clinic under the care of a backwater saw bones if she’d just listened to his advice. She could have been settling into the family firm where he could guide and mold her to take over after he retired. She could have been established at the university back in the city working continuing the research she’d started with her grandmother’s guiding hand on her shoulder. She should be back in the city where the most physical harm she might face would be a mild hangover from drinking herself a bit silly after having to deal with Athena’s high society acquaintances. 

Instead she was here, burned and bandaged. 

He wasn’t sure how long he’d been sitting there when Bel groaned and a furry purple ear twitched. She twisted a bit and hissed when the motion pulled on her burned skin, she looked at him with unfocused groggy eyes, “Grandpa?”

The tone reminded him, too painfully, of when he and her mother had taken her from Athena’s lab after his wife’s second bout of madness. She’d been five years old and terrified and clung to him or Idunn as she whimpered. “It’s me, I’m going to-” 

Another shift and hiss of pain brought sharpness to his granddaughter’s miss matched blue and green eyes. Her next words were growled, “You damn well better not have taken my evidence.”

The sudden shift felt like a slap in the face and he felt his voice and temper respond, “You stole those ledgers.”

“Like hell I did!” Bel yelled back at him. “It’s salvage if his name wasn't on the deed.”

“You have no idea what you are doing” Hephaistos was on his feet and looming over the girl. 

A hand on his bicep dug in and yanked him back. The medic glared at him and jerked a thumb at the door, “Get the fuck out of my clinic.”

“This is my granddaughter!” Lahabrea growled

“I don’t fucking care. Get out of my fucking clinic.” The medic pulled him back harder surprisingly strong. Bel had forced herself to sit up so she could glare properly at her grandfather which only earned her the medics ire as well. Mathye jabbed a finger in her direction, “you will damn well lay back down before you tear that healing skin.”

Bel did as she was told with bad grace and Mathye turned his attention back to Hephaistos. The lawyer ground his teeth and looked at his granddaughter who was pointedly staring at the wall. He ground his teeth and stormed out before the sawbones could cuss at him again. At the very least the door slammed with a satisfying sound. 

Hephaistos Lahabrea began to walk back to the hotel and from the corner of his eye caught the familiar sight of a priest of the Holy Mother and Father. A priest with a familiar face. He did not stare at the priest in white robes that crossed the road. Just like the priest did not stare at the lawyer in a black suit. Lahabrea walked into the hotel and stopped at the front desk to hand over a key. “I no longer need room five.”

“Oh course sir,” the young woman had a carefully blank face. “Will there be anything else?”

“That will be all,” Lahabrea left without any pleasantries. Once he was in his room and the door locked behind him he poured water from the pitcher on top of the dresser into the basin that provided the most basic of washing up possibilities. He splashed water on his face but did not look into the mirror to see what he already knew was there. He found himself thinking of his Ericthonios in the wake of the encounter with his granddaughter. His son looked like he was every inch his son from his ember orange hair to the scarlet eyes set in dark skin, but his son was aging into laugh lines not scowl lines and his hair was not burned white by his own ambition. He considered looking for Claudine who he knew was lurking around Stonewood but after all of today’s chasing after nothing he did not have the energy to hunt down a son to argue with. 

There was one possibility that might salvage this trip to this town forsaken by the Mother and Father. Lahabrea grabbed the hand towel and patted his face dry. He locked the door behind him when he left and began walking to the chapel on the west side of town. He knew the shape of the building he was looking for without ever having seen it. The Holy Church of the Mother and Father liked to keep a consistent image. He’d been raised in the old religion that had come from across the salt. He still went enough to be seen doing so, making an effort at the show of piety helped mitigate some of the dark reputation that the Lahabrea Legal Firm had. 

The inside of the church was a pale shard of the grand cathedrals in the lands across the salt. The walls were white washed with middling violet and blue tapestries. The wooden pews were painted white with faded purple scrollwork painted on the backs. Behind the alter the rounded abstract figures of Mother Hydaelyn and Father Zodiark were carefully painted wood rather than carved alabaster and amethyst lit from within by ancient crystal. The only thing that did not seem like a worn out facsimile was the blood red stole that now hung over the shoulders of the priest. 

“You are several hours early if you want to attend midnight service.” Lahabrea would never lose that edge of surprise when the deep baritone voice rang out from the man’s slight frame. 

“Elidibus,” He stopped walking at the front row of pews and watched the priest set out candles in preparation for the service. 

“I prefer Themis these days,” the he turned to face Lahabrea. Themis was the same age as his sons, old enough to have children grown, but he still looked barely old enough to convince a saloon keeper to let him drink. 

“This isn’t where I expected to find you,” Lahabrea probed but only received one of Themis’s polite smiles. He pushed harder, “I assume you’ve-”

“I do not work for you anymore Hephaistos,” Themis cut him off, “And I have not for several years now.”

“One does not simply walk away from a vocation like yours, Elidibus,” Lahabrea put heated emphasis on the name. 

“Oh there has been nothing simple about my path,” Themis stepped up to the alter and looked at him with that same polite smile but now the blue eyes were calculating. “I would advise you to caution Hephaistos Lahabrea. The Mother and Father ensure balance in all things and all lives. You would not want anything to upset that balance and draw their will into action.” 

Lahabrea bristled at the obtusely worded threat. “Nothing you know could be used in court.”

“True balance is rarely found in the Dawnservent’s courts. You have helped to ensure as much. And so I doubt that any redress for your sins would happen there.” Themis folded his hands neatly in front of him. “I will pray that you have an uneventful trip back to the city.”

Lahabrea clenched a fist as Themis turned away from him. He stormed out of the church without even crumbs that might make something of the trip to this backwater. He returned to the hotel and slept poorly in an unfamiliar bed that night. The next morning at the train station he watched two Landsguard agents in full uniform board with the box that contained the evidence that he had originally set out to get. 

He would need to find out what those ledgers contained. Hephaistos took his seat in the single passenger car and pinched the bridge of his nose. It could wait until tomorrow when the dust of Stonewood was no longer clinging to him as a reminder of what he had failed to do. 

[coopigeoncoo]

A Persistent Lack of Follow Through, Chapter 2: Salvage & Repair

Chapter Links: One, Two, Three

Pairing: Todoroki Shouto x Female Reader

Rating: Mature 18+

Tags: Breaking Up & Making Up, Angst with a Happy Ending, Personal Growth, Drinking, Sexual Content, Non-Explicit Sex, Weddings, Child Abuse, Todoroki Enji's Bad Parenting, Abusive Todorioki Enji, Pining, Shouto is Bad at Feelings, Natural Disasters, Fire, Serious Injuries, Domestic Fluff, Implied Pregnancy

---

Shouto had learned a lot from his Father; how to take a hit, how to pull himself back up, and how to hold a grudge.

But one thing Endeavor could never teach his children was how to be a good partner.

Shouto had to learn that particular skill the hard way.

---

He had spent long, sleepless nights reflecting on the things you had told him; the reasons you left. Every moment of your acquaintance was turned over repeatedly in his head and examined until one devastating conclusion was reached:

"I was a bad boyfriend," Shouto muttered dejectedly, idly picking at the label of the shochu bottle in the middle of the table.

---

A story where Shouto loves, loses, and learns.

Continue reading below, or follow the link to Ao3!

Shouto's deployment lasted far longer than he would have liked.  They had managed to suppress the blazes in under a week.  Heroes with fire based Quirks set about burning long stretches of untouched vegetation to create firebreaks while ice and water elemental Quirks worked on suppressing and extinguishing blazes that tried to jump the firewalls.  

It was exhausting work, but the hard labor and long hours kept him from thinking about his newly single status during the day and ensured that he was too tired to dream after he fell into his cot at night.  They had been packing up, ready to return to Japan when the call from his PR team came in.  

Animal rescue workers had found a juvenile Koala injured in the blaze, the skin around its left eye seared by a falling branch while it tried to escape to safety. They wanted him to come in and do a photoshoot to raise funds for the wildfire relief fund, the two of them a matching reminder about the lasting damage fire leaves behind.  

The original run of promotional materials were wildly successful and Shouto found his return flight pushed back again and again; a never-ending cycle of talk show spots and community appearances with Kodoroki (which had been the winning name in an online poll by a landslide).  As much as Shouto disliked being in the center ring of the media circus, the worst part of the entire ordeal was having to call his Father every few days to inform him of his further delays.  Endeavour had agreed to watch over Shouto's agency in his absence, and while he was long retired and unable to do any of the field work, his Father was a competent executive and everything was always in good working order upon his return.  

The first photoshoot with Kodoroki had been an awkward affair, neither Shouto nor the koala quite sure what to make of each other.  But as the weeks dragged on they had become more comfortable and Shouto found himself looking forward to being reunited with his little burned buddy each morning; greeting the young koala with a smile and eagerly awaiting the moment when his handlers would pass him into Shouto's awaiting arms.  

"Morning, Kodoroki," Shouto smiled, taking the joey into his arms while the photography team circled around him went wild.  "This is going to be our last day together, so let's make it a good one, okay?"

Kodoroki yipped in response, his claws wrapping around the belts slung around his shoulders as he clung to Shotou’s chest.  Having grown up without pets, Shouto had never understood why so many people were drawn to animals.  But after spending so much time with Kodoroki and experiencing the warm comfort an animal could provide he thought that maybe he was starting to understand the appeal a little.  His heart always felt a little bit lighter when Kodoroki was in his arms.  

"Maybe I should think about getting a pet when I get home," Shouto mused, shifting his grip on Kodoroki in between photos with the group of waiting politicians hovering around the corner of the room.

"Not a koala though.  You're kind of stinky," Shouto crinkled his nose while tapping Kodoroki's forehead.  "Also, I'm fairly sure keeping you would be illegal."

Unimpressed, Kodoroki grunted indignantly before releasing a particularly ripe fart that left the Senator next to him gagging.

"See? This is what I'm talking about, Kodoroki," Shouto coughed, fanning the air in front of his face while one of the handlers cracked a window open.  "You're not meant for polite society."

Shouto had been so used to coming up with reasons to visit Deku's agency to see you that it was strange to shift out of that mindset.  Sidekicks were sent to retrieve paperwork, meetings were attended via video call, and everything else was shoved into emails routed directly to Deku's personal devices.

But having to visit the Number One Hero's agency was inevitable in their line of work.  So with his shoulders set in false confidence, Shouto forced a neutral expression onto his face and set out towards Deku's office.  He had practiced this greeting in his head a thousand times; what he'd say, how you'd respond, wondering if you'd be happy to see him.  Or mad.  Or sad, like he was.  

He felt like he had prepared for every eventuality except the one he was confronted with: someone who wasn't you.

"Ah, hello?" He greeted the stranger, a bleary eyed man who looked like he hadn't had a good night's rest since the day he was born. Energy bar wrappers were scattered across the surface of your- his , desk and the small wastebasket beside him was overflowing with crushed coffee cans.  

"Hello, Hero Shouto," the man yawned, covering his open mouth with his hand and bobbing his head in Shouto's direction. "Deku is expecting you.  You can go ahead and enter.  After knocking, obviously.  Everyone should knock," the man whispered, his eyes dipping shut as he slumped down in his chair.  "Knock…knock…"

"Of course," Shouto agreed softly, lightly rapping on Deku's door before slipping inside.  

"Shouto!" Izuku cheered, lunging out of his chair to throw his arms around his friend in a crushing hug.  "It's been too long!  It's so good to see you!"

"It has been," Shouto agreed, patting his friend's back stiffly, always unsure about what to do with his hands in situations like this.  

"So," Izuku began awkwardly, pulling back from the too-long embrace with a pained grimace on his face.  "How're you holding up?  Since, well… you know."

"Not great, honestly," Shouto sighed, picking at a loose thread at the cuff of his uniform.  "It's been hard without her.  Really hard.  I didn't realize just how much of my life revolved around her until it suddenly didn't."

His eyes watered, despite his best effort to hold things together.  "I really miss her.  And as nervous as I was to come here, I was also looking forward to seeing her- making sure she was alright."

"I'm sorry," Izuku sighed, running a hand through his hopelessly tousled hair.  "She asked for a temporary transfer to another department while things…settle down between you guys.  She didn't want to make it harder for you, having to see her all the time."

Shouto was roughly struck by how much he both loved and hated your thoughtfulness at this moment in time.  

"Takai down in Accounting agreed to take her on for a while and sent up his guy to replace her," Izuku explained, eyeing the door to his office worryingly, the distant sound of sobbing filtering in through the cracks.  "I'm…not sure he's adjusting well to the switch.  It's a bit more stressful than he's used to, I think."

His friends had assured him that the pain he was feeling would fade with time, that he needed to be patient and eventually he'd begin to heal. 

So, he waited.

He waited to stop anticipating your cheerful greeting with bated breath when he came home after work each night.  He waited to stop reaching over to your side of the bed at night, desperate to feel the familiar press of your skin against his.  He waited for the urge to text you pictures of things he saw on patrol to pass, knowing how much you'd love to see how much the tagger on the East side of the city had been improving.  

Shouto waited and waited and waited , but if anything the time spent away from you just seemed to compound his misery instead of alleviate it.  He spent long, sleepless nights reflecting on the things you had told him; the reasons you left.  Every moment of your acquaintance was turned over repeatedly in his head and examined until one devastating conclusion was reached: 

"I was a bad boyfriend," Shouto muttered dejectedly, idly picking at the label of the shochu bottle in the middle of the table.  

"I'm sure that's not true," Yaomomo consoled him, reaching across the booth to pat his hand comfortingly.  

"I was ," Shouto whined, slumping down in his seat so Mina could pass a drink to Ochako over his head.  She was only mildly successful and ended up spilling some of her cocktail into his hair.

"Whoopsie!  Sorry about that, Shouto!" Mina grimaced, taking a hold of her cocktail glass with another hand to steady her grip while Ochako sipped from an unreasonably long crazy straw.

"It's fine," Shouto sighed as another glob of frozen margarita hit his head and began sliding down his neck.  "I probably deserve it anyway for the way I treated her."

"Okay, look.  Maybe you weren't a good boyfriend," Mina said, dropping down in her seat while Yaomomo shot her a disapproving glare.  "I don't know, I wasn't there.  But you can't keep beating yourself up over this- it's not healthy!"

"Right!" Ochako chimed in while indicating to the waitress she wanted two of whatever Mina was drinking.  "You made mistakes, but you acknowledge that you were in the wrong.  That's growth, Shouto!"

"Maybe," Shouto said mulishly, tearing the corner of the label he had been picking at fully off the bottle.  

"Did you apologize?" Yaomomo asked softly, taking a dainty sip from her wine glass.

"No, I haven't.  We haven't talked since my Australia mission," Shouto explained as he tore his strip of label into tiny pieces of confetti.  "Do you think I should?"

"Do you feel like you have something to apologize for?" Yaomomo inquired as she tucked a lock of hair behind Jiro's ear, tracing a finger gently down her elongated lobe.  Jiro, who was totally sober but utterly exhausted, had ended up falling asleep with her head on the table despite the raucous atmosphere of the bar they occupied.  Shouto watched, utterly transfixed at the natural show of casual intimacy, and couldn't help but remember your silent disappointment every time he dropped your hand and stepped away when his friends entered the room.  

Is this what he had been so afraid of?  His friends seeing how much he cared for you?  It had felt so important at the time, keeping you tucked away into the private facets of his life, that he didn't even consider what he was missing by doing so.  Would you have looked at him that tenderly?  Found little ways to touch him in public to let him know you cared?  

Shouto had been so worried about showing vulnerability to the people in his life that he needed to be strong for; afraid that they would somehow find his newfound softness to be detrimental, that they would suddenly find him a liability.

You made him feel weak when all he knew was how to be strong, and the thought of being seen as anything other than what he had been created to be- useful, powerful, terrified him.  

He didn't see any of those things when he looked at Yaomomo and Jiro.  All he saw was his friends, happy and in love; and all he felt was the icy vice of regret constricting on his heart.

"Yes," Shouto swallowed, remorse thick and unmoving in his throat.  "I think I have a lot to apologize for."

Shouto had accomplished many difficult things in his life.  He'd survived an abusive childhood, escaped multiple attempts at fratricide as a teenager, and managed to muster up the necessary strength to begin building a tentative relationship with his Father as an adult.  These days Shouto could occupy the same room as Enji for nearly forty minutes before the urge to strangle him became too overwhelming, which was positively cordial by Todoroki family standards.

The combined difficulty of all those accomplishments paled in comparison to the one that sat before Shouto at this very moment: texting his ex-girlfriend.  He must have started the message a dozen times, trying varying levels of formality before deleting everything he wrote in frustration.  

I'm sorry.

I know this is all my fault.

Please forgive me.

I wish we were still together.

I can't stop thinking of you.

Do you wake up every day as sad as I do?  

All those messages were true, but discarded all the same.  It took all evening, but he finally came up with a message he was moderately happy with; hitting send before he could second guess himself.

Shouto, 8:57pm "I miss talking with you."

Shouto's chest clenched with anticipation as dots bounced across his phone screen, awaiting your incoming response.

Deku's Assistant, 8:58pm "I miss talking with you, too."

A wave of self-loathing rolled through him as your contact name flashed across his screen.  Had he really not even bothered to change your profile name when you'd started dating?  He really did manage to bungle pretty much every aspect of your relationship, didn't he?  You must have really cared for him to put up with his callousness for so long.  

Deku's Assistant, 8:58pm "I've really been missing our friendship."

Shouto, 8:58pm "Me too." "Do you think enough time has passed for us to start talking again?"

Anxious minutes rolled by as Shouto awaited your response.

Deku's Assistant, 9:05pm "I don't know.  But I think I want to try."

Shouto's heart soared as his fingers flew across his screen, the jubilant smile stretched across his face so wide that his cheeks ached.  

Shouto, 9:07pm "Oh, thank goodness.  I have so many pictures I need to show you."

send: img_7895

Deku's Assistant, 9:08pm "Is that the cat near the Chinese Restaurant??"

Shouto, 9:08pm "Yes!  It turns out that she was pregnant, not fat."

Deku's Assistant, 9:09pm "I feel so bad making fun of her chunky tummy now."

Shouto, 9:09pm "Do you want to see her babies?"

Deku's Assistant, 9:09pm "YES!!!!"

The joy of regaining your friendship was a balm to Shouto's soul.  He still longed for the intimacies you had shared and was pretty sure he would vividly remember the feeling of your teeth nibbling on his lower lip until his dying day.  But being able to talk with you about his work or offer a sympathetic ear while you vented about your temporary reassignment was positively elating after months of separation.  

Currently, you were recounting a run-in with the catty Senior Receptionist in the Marketing Department, something that had been happening with increasing frequency the past couple of weeks.  

"I have no clue what I did to offend her, if anything.  Maybe she just doesn't like me for some reason?" You sighed into the phone, the distant sound of keys jingling filling Shouto's ears.  

"Impossible," Shouto scoffed as he opened up the fridge to peruse for something to heat up for dinner.  "Everybody likes you."

"That's not at all true, but I'll take the compliment.  I need it after today," you groaned, a sound Shouto knew accompanied you arriving home and sliding off your uncomfortable work shoes.

"Have you given any thought to transferring back to your old job?" Shouto asked, peeling back the corner of a container of leftovers to give the food inside a tentative sniff.  

"I, uh, yes.  Actually.  I'm going to be transferring back later this week," you stammer, oddly nervous about such a mundane topic.  

"Really?" Shouto pried, setting his container of food down on the counter to focus his attention on you.  "That's sudden."

"It's been in the works for a couple of weeks now, actually.  I just…didn't know how to bring it up."

"Because we'll be seeing each other in person again?" 

"A little, maybe?  But I'm mostly moving back for HR Reasons," you said, inhaling deeply before continuing.  "Takai and I have…started seeing each other."

"Oh," Shouto breathed, stunned by your admission.  He knew that the two of you weren't dating anymore, but the sudden realization that you would be seeing other people sent him reeling completely off balance; scrambling to grasp his counter for support.

"I'm sorry," you said, tone anxious and shaky.  "I should have told you sooner, but things had been going so well and I didn't want to bring it up and ruin everything-"

"No," Shouto interrupted.  "You didn't do anything wrong.  Your personal life isn't any of my business.  Not anymore."

"I- I'm so glad," you sniffle.  "I don't know if I could bear not talking to you again."

"Does he…does Takai make you happy?" Shouto asked despite his better judgment.  There was no way that your answer would satisfy him.  But some part of his heart, the self-destructive portion that kept accepting Fuyumi's invitations to family dinners, needed to know.  

"He does, Shouto.  He really does."

"I'm glad," Shouto lied, sinking slowly to the floor as his knees gave way.  "I need to go now.  Dinner awaits."

You bid your farewells and disconnected, leaving Shouto slumped against his fridge with the chill of his kitchen tiles seeping down into his bones.  

It was one thing to know you were dating another man, but seeing it in person turned out to be another matter entirely.  Shouto wasn't prepared for the sour sting of jealousy that curdled in his belly when he exited the elevator at Deku's agency and saw Takai doubled over, lips pressed firmly against yours.  You pulled away first, positively beaming up at him while you adjusted his tie before he straightened up to his full height and put himself out of reach of your tender ministrations.  

You returned to your chair and startled once you registered Shouto's presence in your work space.

"Oh!  Shouto!  I'm so sorry, I didn't realize you were here," you grimaced, nervously turning a pen in your hands to distract from the awkward situation you suddenly found yourself plunged into.  You weren't exactly sure how you were supposed to officially introduce a new boyfriend to your ex, but having them drop in while you were kissing likely wasn't the best approach.  

"It's alright," Shouto assured you with a brittle smile, nodding tersely to Takai who returned the gesture with a smug grin.  Shouto wanted to hate him for it, but remembered he'd done the same when he was in Takai's position; bolstered with pride from being on the receiving end of your affection.    

With a parting wave, Shouto slid into Deku's office, collapsing into one of his empty chairs and burying his face into his hands, tears slipping through the gaps in his fingers while his friend scrambled for a tissue box.  

"Shouto!" Izuku cried out, shoving a handful of crumpled tissues under his nose.  "What happened?"

"I- I've really lost her for good, haven't I?" Shouto croaked, taking the wad of tissues from Deku's hand and sloppily mopping at his cheeks.  

"I think so," Izuku whispered, eyes misting sympathetically as he rubbed a calloused hand between Shouto's shoulder blades as he cried.  

Likely sensing how uncomfortable running into your boyfriend had made Shouto, you had gone out of your way to minimize the amount of contact between the two of them.  You didn't mention Takai during your daily calls or texts unless necessary and Shouto hadn't run into the two of you together since that disastrous day in Deku's office, likely because you were maneuvering them around each other like a chess grandmaster shuffled pieces around the board.

While he knew that he would eventually have to get used to Takai if the two of you were to remain friends, Shouto still appreciated your willingness to give him space while he did so.  He always admired that kindness and compassion in you and would never admit that your efforts were ultimately futile because he would never grow accustomed to seeing someone else occupying the place at your side where he used to stand; the place where he still very much wanted to be.

Shouto reveled in this false world he had crafted around the two of you; where Takai existed somewhere in the periphery of his mind, a distant problem he need not consider unless absolutely necessary.  He knew more about you now than he ever did when you were together, the past distance between the two of you giving Shouto a newfound appreciation for every bit of time you spent together.  For the first time since your breakup, it felt like Shouto was approaching something that resembled peace in his life.

That happiness he felt, the equilibrium he had achieved, all came crashing down dramatically one unremarkable Thursday evening during your daily chat as you walked the final leg of your commute home from work. 

"Shouto.  I need to tell you something," you began, a serious set to your words that put Shouto instantly on edge.

"What is it?"

"Takai asked me to marry him," you confessed.  "And I said yes."

"I- that's," Shouto paused in the middle of the sidewalk, people dodging around him with peevish glares as he struggled to reign in his racing thoughts.  "That's… great ."

"I didn't want you to hear it from someone else," you explained, voice suddenly muting as you pulled away from the phone to talk briefly with someone else.  "I have to go.  Some people down in Accounting are taking us out to celebrate."

"Have fun," Shouto croaked.  "And Congratulations.  Takai is a lucky man."

"Thank you," you whisper, a smile audible in the timbre of your voice.  "That means a lot, coming from you."

"Have a good time.  And be safe."

"I will.  Bye, Shouto."

"Good-bye," Shouto whispered, the sound of the dial tone fading seamlessly into the ringing in his ears as he spun on his heel and walked through the doorway of the closest bar.

"I'm so sorry to bother you, Mr. Deku, Sir," the bartender bladders, wringing his bar towel nervously with his clawed hands.  "I just- I didn't know who else to call?  This is just my second week working here and the manager never really covered what to do when a Pro Hero won't leave?  And I've seen you and Shouto together a lot on TV, so I figured that you might be friends and know how to handle this, but now that you're here I just realized that you probably have way more important stuff to do-"

Deku cut off the young man's panicked monologue with a raised hand and reassuring smile.  

"You did the right thing by calling me.  I'll take it from here, okay?  Finish up whatever it is you need to do to close up and I'll be sure to have Shouto out by the time you're done."

"Yes, of course!  Thank you!" The bartender shouted, scrambling off to carry a tray of used glasses back into the kitchen.  Once he disappeared behind the back room door the smile slid from Izuku's face as he took in his long time friend, slumped over the bar with his head buried in his folded arms.  With a heavy sigh, Izuku slid onto the stool next to Shouto, the metal squealing in protest at his added weight.  

"Hey, Shouto," Izuku greeted, patting his friend's shoulder firmly. "It's time to go.  You've more than worn out your welcome here, I'm afraid."

"Iz'ku?" Shouo slurred, rolling his head to face Deku with fiercely squinted eyes.  "When'd ya get here?"

"Just a moment ago."

"Oh.  Tha's a shame," Shouto sighed.  "If you got here eerly- earlly- sooner, we coulda had a drink t'gether."

"How about we drink these?" Izuku asked, fishing two large bottles of water out of his backpack and depositing one in front of Shouto.  Nose crinkled in distaste, Shouto cracked the seal on his bottle and started sipping, his hand icing over too cool down the water to his preferred chilly temperature.  They sat in a companionable silence, slowly working through their drinks and watching a replay of yesterday's baseball game on the TV hung crookedly from the ceiling above the bar's framed liquor license.  

"My ex- she's gettin' married," Shouto said, drawing a finger through a bead of condensation along the bar top.  

"I know.  The entire office was in an uproar over it.  She brought me a slice of cake."

"Was it good?"

"It was alright," Izuku shrugged.  "A little dry, but the icing made up for it.

"Tha's good.  She deserves good things.  All the good things," Shouto nodded, the weight of his own head surprising him as it flopped from front to back.  

"Takai is good for her," Deku said, swinging back the last of his water before slipping the empty bottle back into his bag.  

"Takai," Shouto hissed.  "Wha' makes him so special anyway?  Why does she like him better than me?  He's too tall!  I bet his Grandfather was a pair of stilts."

"Shouto!  I know you're sad, but that's no excuse to be cruel.  Takai is a good man who treats her well," Izuku chided, poking the arm Shouto was holding his water with to remind him to keep drinking.  Reluctantly, Shouto took another mouthful of water, swishing it between his cheeks thoughtfully.   

"He treats her better than I ever did."

"He does," Izuku agreed sadly.

"I wish- I wish I could go back.  Do it all different.  Do y'know someone with a time travel Quirk?"

"I- yes, actually," Izuku admitted reluctantly.  "But I'm not going to let you create an alternate timeline because your ex moved on and you're sad about it."

"Ugh," Shouto grunted. "Why do you always have to be so reapons- responsible?"

"Comes with the job, I'm afraid.  You're supposed to be responsible too, you know."

"Lame," Shouto sighed, throwing back the last of his water and passing the empty bottle to Deku. 

"Sure is," Izuku laughed.  "I thought Pro Heroes were so cool growing up, but it turns out we're all a bunch of party pooping killjoys."

"So wha' am I s'posed to do now?"

"Well, that depends," Deku huffed, scratching at his chin thoughtfully.  "Were you just friends with her because you were hoping to get back together with her someday?"

"No," Shouto cried emphatically.  "I won't lie an' say I wasn't hoping for that, but I'm friends with her because we're good friends.  She's good.  And she makes me want to be gooder."

"That's… good, " Izuku snorted, amused at his friend's expense.  

"Yeah," Shouto grinned enthusiastically, his eyes glossy and unfocused. "It is!"

"So if she's a good friend, you need to be a good friend in return.  Talk to her.  Support her.  But step back and take a breather if it gets to be too much for you to handle.  There's no need for you to set yourself on fire here."

"Unless's an emergency," Shouto muttered seriously, staring down at his left hand in contemplation.  "I'm definitely supposed to light m'self on fire in an emergency.  That's half my job."

Unwavering romantic feelings aside and unmentioned, things were going relatively well between you and Shouto.  Once the initial shock of your engagement wore off, he was able to resume calling and messaging you on a regular basis.  He did need to take a few days off of work when your wedding invitation arrived at his apartment, a simple but elegantly penned note printed on crisp ivory paper that overwhelmed him with thoughts of a future he wasn't prepared to deal with at that particular moment in time.  

But he liked to think he was handling things much better these days.  

"Hey, Natsuo?" Shouto called, holding up two delicate plates for inspection.  "Which china set best conveys the message 'Congratulations, but I secretly hope your marriage fails so I can have a second chance with you?'  Is it Wedgwood?"

"Lemme see," Natsuo said as he took the plates into his hand, angling them to and fro under the dim store lights to get a better look at the delicate patterns.  

"Shouto," Fuyumi scolded gently, returning a pale blue tea cup to the display shelf. "There's no need to put yourself through this.  We can just order something off the registry and call it a day."

"No," Shouto said firmly, picking up a salad plate and immediately setting it down with a disapproving frown.  "I want to do this for her."

"Alright," Fuyumi sighed in defeat, wandering over to a display of shining silver teapots.  "How about one of these?"

"It needs to be china," Shouto insisted, staring critically at an oval serving platter with a brocade print running along the rim.  

"It reminds me of her."

"You're gonna' need to elaborate on that, Little Bro," Natsuo drawled, his attention still primarily focused on the plates Shouto had passed to him.  

"She's…delicate, but strong," Shouto explained, running a finger admiringly across the golden rim of a gravy boat.  "And even though you see her every day, you're still stuck by her beauty- a timeless elegance you can't help but admire."

"Shouto," Fuyumi cooed, clutching the teapot to her chest.  "That's so sweet!"

"Also, dishes are something you use repeatedly.  So if I give them to her I guarantee she'll have to think of me during every meal," Shouto grinned deviously. 

"I think you definitely want the Wedgwood then," Natsuo confirmed, sliding the rejected plate back into its stand.  "It's too expensive for her to give away without feeling guilty."

"Perfect!" Shouto beamed, waving the dinner plate in the air and using it to flag down a passing salesperson, their face instantly paling as they witnessed the lack of care Shouto was showing their unpurchased merchandise.  

"You shouldn't have encouraged him to be so petty," Fuyumi chastised, walloping Natsuo soundly on the bicep.  

"Hey!" He winced, rubbing at the spot his sister hit.  "This is the most excited Shouto has been in months.   If buying spite plates makes him happy, then who am I to judge?" Natsuo shrugged, fishing his phone from his jacket pocket to check on his missed messages.  

"I guess," Fuyumi mused, chewing on her lip.  "It's pretty harmless in the end, right?  She gets a nice set of dinnerware and Shouto is satisfied."

"Yep," Natuso agreed, still engrossed in his phone.  

"I'll go help him pick out some wrapping paper then," Fuyumi smiled, shuffling off to look at the display wall of wrapping options while the salesperson who had been helping Shouto rang up his purchase with a dazed expression, unable to do the mental math to calculate just how high their commission was going to be.  

To say that Shouto became increasingly distracted as your wedding day drew near was a profound misrepresentation of events.  Emotionally, he was in shambles and it was beginning to impact his work.  Distracted and slow, he was taking more hits than ever before and limping home after clocking out more often than not.  His sidekicks had taken it upon themselves to make sure he never patrolled alone; creating an unofficial schedule that kept him under someone's watchful eye every shift for the foreseeable future.  

They thought they were being secretive about it, but the signup sheet was just taped up on the wall of the sidekick locker room.  The custodian had discovered it the day it was initially hung and reported it to him immediately. Shouto had been so touched by his subordinates' show of concern for his well-being that he ignored their less than clandestine whispering and did his best to pretend to be unaware of their scheming.  He was absolutely indulging them, but he also appreciated their constant company more than he could adequately express.  

It was hard to be alone right now.

So when they were alerted to a villain attack a couple blocks away, the odds were in their favor; a top ranking hero with a familiar partner in tow usually made for a devastating combination most villains didn't stand a chance against.  

But it seemed like everything that could have possibly gone wrong did.  Physical attacks from both him and Ice Pick, his sidekick du jour, weren't landing.  Their Quirks were sluggish and misfiring, Ice Pick had lost her footing and stumbled into his side; knocking him off balance as well.  The evidence was quickly pointing to some sort of luck manipulation Quirk that they had no idea how to counter. 

"Any ideas, Boss?" Ice Pick panted, sending a blast of needle-sharp icicles the Villain's way and screeching in frustration when they all miraculously managed to miss their target.  

"Nothing immediately comes to mind," Shouto grunted, ducking behind a parked car to take stock of the situation.  "I think our best course of action is to keep him distracted until backup arrives.  Call back to the agency and make sure whoever is en route is equipped with Quirk repressing gear."

"Roger that!"

Shouto rolled out from his cover, throwing out a flare blast he knew wouldn't connect, but would hopefully drive the villain away from the cram school he had been encroaching on.  Ice Pick, having finished relaying messages back to headquarters, was quick to return to his side.  

"Back up due to arrive momentarily."

Shouto opened his mouth to respond to her, but caught sight of something in the distance that pulled his attention away.  Speeding towards the villain in front of them at breakneck speed was what looked like a cannonball, but with a slight wobble around the edges like it wasn't fully solid.  Given what he ascertained about the trajectory of projectiles lobbed at the villain, Shouto knew it would never connect with its intended target and would instead deflect right towards where Ice Pick was standing.  

"WATCH OUT," Shouto bellowed, pushing Ice Pick out of the way and coating his right side in a thick layer of ice to absorb the force of the impending blow.  The projectile made contact and swept Shouto off his feet and sent him flying backwards off of the street and through the glass window of a nearby shop.  High pitched screeches and cries rang out around him as he finally came skidding to a stop in the middle of the floor, large groups of women scrambling to escape the destruction he left in his wake.  Employees wearing bright fluorescent vests were doing their best to funnel the panicking customers back through the emergency exit, but a few stragglers hung back to record the goings on with their cell phones until the very last moment.    

With a groan, Shouto pushed himself up into a sitting position, hand darting up tenderly cradle his obviously broken ribs with a pained hiss.  

"Shit," he swore lowly, ignoring the sharp pains in his side and the crackling sound that accompanied every breath.  

"Shouto!" he heard someone scream through the ringing in his ears, assuming it was Ice Pick rushing to his aide as he slowly shifted until he was on all fours, grasping onto the arm of a nearby chair to keep upright as his vision wavered.  

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" You screech, pushing down on his shoulders to keep him from attempting to pull himself up into a standing position.  "You are seriously injured, Shouto!  Stay down !"

Shouto's head snapped towards you, which was a mistake because the sudden movement made a wave of nausea roll through him.  Swallowing down the bile creeping up his esophagus, he was able to finally focus his attention on you.  If it wasn't for his agonizing injuries Shouto was fairly certain he would have thought he was in heaven as you knelt next to him, an absolute vision in a white dress with delicately pearls glimmering in the fluctuating light from the emergency strobe lamps.  

"What are you doing here?" Shouto managed to mumble, distracted by the delicate swooping of your exposed collar bone.  He always loved running kisses across it- you always laughed while he did so, scrunching up your shoulders and burrowing in on yourself in an attempt to protect the delicate flesh from his wandering lips.  

He missed that.

He also missed what you were just saying.

"-on wedding dresses."

"Oh," Shouto wheezed, blinking at you owlishly.  "You look really beautiful."

"Thanks," you smiled, pushing on his shoulders until he was laying down on the floor, his head pooled in the fluffy fabric of your skirt, staring up at you with a dopey grin.  "You know, if you wanted to come dress shopping with me you could have just asked.  This is a bit dramatic even for you."

Shouto barked out a laugh and then immediately groaned as his lungs sharply protested his sudden mirth.  "Stop being charming," Shouto chided, eyes tracing over the tucks and folds of the bodice of your dress. "I can't handle you at full power right now."

"I'll tone it down then," you sniffled, running a shaking hand through his mussed hair, pulling out tiny slivers of glass with careful fingers and flicking them behind you carelessly.  

"Is this it?" Shouto mumbled, his lips slick with a mixture of spittle and blood.  

"Is what it?  What do you mean?" You asked worriedly, prying and eyelid open to examine his pupil.  

"The dress," Shouto clarified with a rattling sigh, frowning when tiny red dots suddenly bloomed across the pristine white fabric.  "Is this the one?"

"Oh," you breathe in relief, letting go of his eyelid and returning to running your fingers along his scalp.  "Yeah.  I think this is the one."

"'s perfect," Shouto whispered, eyelids growing heavy as the edges of his vision darkened.  "Defin'ly buy this one…"

"Shou-!  -ay awake!" You cried, tears streaming down your face while Shouto buried his face into your stomach, inhaling the scent of your skin layered underneath the fragrance of starch from the dress; snippets of your words filtering through his brain like a sieve.  

"-ncussion!  Stay awake!  Ple-!"

"I already call-"

"-Deku is on-"

And then there was silence.

The road to recovery was far longer than Shouto would have liked.  Any sort of brain injury booked you an immediate and non negotiable week long stay in the Hero Intensive Care Unit with CT scans scheduled daily.  Shouto flitted in and out of consciousness for a couple of days until they pulled back on his meds, and from there on out he made steady improvement, suffering through never ending days of under salted meals and reciting his ABCs backwards to prove his brain was in fine working order.  

Half-way through his stay he was visited by a deeply apologetic Gunhead and his terrified Intern, Cannon Blob, who had been the one that had lobbed the projectile that had taken Shouto out.  

"Hot shot here broke protocols and rushed ahead without me," Gunhead explained as Cannon Blob repeatedly bowed at Shouto's bedside, his lips wobbling as a constant stream of apologies tumbled from his mouth.  "I told him he's lucky you were able to push Ice Pick out of the way and throw up some sort of shield.  If you hadn't, he'd be visiting a grave instead of a hospital."

Shouto looked at the terrified Intern, still just a kid struggling to learn the cruel rules of the adult game they had signed their life away to play.  The reformed Hero Commission had raised the age for entering into Heroism after the war, the world rightfully opposed to the government keeping the gears of society greased with the blood of child soldiers.  But even with the increase in age, Cannon Blob just looked so young . Too young , really.   

With a weary sigh, Shouto dropped his hand down onto Cannon Blob's shoulder, interrupting his frantic bowing with a firm squeeze.  

"Take this experience to heart," Shouto said, pausing to cough gently into the crook of his arm.  "Learn from this mistake and follow through with that lesson; don't fall back into the same bad habits that led you to today."

"I will!" Cannon Blob blubbered, wiping his tears on his uniform sleeves.  "I promise I will, Shouto!"

"See that you do.  Gunhead is an excellent mentor.  Listen to him and I know you'll become a Hero I'll enjoy working with in the future."

"Thanks Shouto," Gunhead nodded, steering Cannon Blob away from his bedside and towards the door.  "Tell you Old Man I said 'Hello'".  

"I'd rather take another hit from Cannon Blob," Shouto stated blandly, a corner of his mouth curling at the sound of Gunhead's booming laugh echoing down the hospital hallway.  

It was still a good stretch of time before Shouto was allowed back into the field.  It was nice being back in his office at first, a welcomed change to the sterile environment the hospital offered, but he quickly grew restless on desk duty and looked for any reason to get out and stretch his legs during the day.

So he accompanied his company gofers on coffee runs, lugged packages around the mailroom, and hand delivered high-level clearance messages between nearby agencies.  Today's errand run took him by Deku's office, a place that he'd been avoiding for a while now.  

You'd been unable to visit him in the hospital since civilians are banned from entering unless they were the emergency contact or direct family members or of the patient, and he'd delayed replacing his phone right away to buy himself a couple extra days of contemplation before he had to speak with you again.  

While a lot of the accident was at this point a hazy blur in his memories, the image of you in that wedding dress was seared into his brain like no other sight had been before.  You were there every time he closed his eyes, invading his dreams in that flowing white dress.  More often than not his visions followed a rough outline of the actual event, with Shouto's head cradled in your lap while you ran your hands across his face with a tender smile.  But sometimes his brain would rearrange things to its liking, depositing you at the end of a long aisle and having you march steadily towards him.  

And once he had thought about you reaching him, a bouquet of fluffy chrysanthemums tightly grasped in your hands as you grinned up at him so sweetly that it made his teeth ache; he just couldn't find a way to stop.   

He didn't know how he could face you, knowing with absolute clarity how radiant you'd be as a bride.

But not as his bride.

The future he dreamed about wasn't his to claim.  He felt a fleeting moment of kinship to his Father, wondering if this is how he felt standing in All Might's shadow for so many years; success somehow both tantalizingly close and impossibly far from his grasp.  

When he'd finally switched his SIM card over to his new phone and booted it up, he was inundated with missed calls and texts; his inbox filling up faster than he could answer them, most of them from you.  Shouto had assured you that he was fine, but convalescent and in no shape to entertain visitors.  After double checking that he didn't need anything, you had backed off and resumed your normal messaging routine; occasional texts throughout the day and a quick call while walking home that Shouto let ring more often than he picked up.

With a fortifying breath as the elevator ascended to Deku's top office, Shouto prepared to face you for the first time since the bridal boutique.  The elevator doors whooshed open and Shouto strode purposefully towards your desk, a neutral look settled on his face that would hopefully not alert you to the panicked thundering of his heart.  

"Of course.  Yes, I understand.  I'll relay the message immediately," you spoke into the phone receiver perched on your shoulder, fingers flying across your computer keyboard as you logged some sort of information for future reference.  "Thank you for returning my call so quickly.  Have a wonderful day!"

Dropping the receiver into its base, you finally turned to address the new visitor, routine greeting evaporating off of your tongue when you realized who was standing in front of you.  

"Shouto!" You cried, leaping up from your chair so quickly you stumbled a bit as you rounded the desk and threw your arms around Shouto's neck with a sob.  "You're okay!  You're really okay!  I was so worried!"

"I'm alright," Shouto mumbled soothingly, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you further into his embrace.  

"I was so scared," you cried into his shoulder.  

"I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize," you sniffled, eyes red as you wiped at your tears with the back of your hands.  "Just try to pass out a little less ostentatiously next time, okay?"

"I'll do my best," Shouto promised, passing you the handkerchief he had tucked into his back pocket.  You accepted his offering with a grateful smile, blowing your nose with an unbecoming honk as you tried to regain your composure.  

"Okay," you stated firmly, squaring your shoulders and moving back to your desk chair.  "I'm sure you're here on official business, so I'll stop monopolizing your time.  Deku's free so you can head on in."

Moving past your desk, Shouto drew to an abrupt halt when he noticed the new addition to your desk decorations; a fluffy brown Koala dressed up in a replica of his Hero costume.

"You bought one of the Kodoroki dolls?" Shouto asked, picking the stuffed animal up and running a finger over the pink patch of fur around its left eye with a fond smile.  

"Of course I did!  I couldn't resist supporting my favorite Hero and a cute koala at the same time!  No woman is that strong," you sighed with a helpless shrug.  

"I'm your favorite Hero?" Shouto whispered in awe.  "Still?  Even after- after how poorly I treated you when we were together?"

"You weren't so bad," you generously offered up in his defense.  

"I was a pig-headed, callous idiot," he reminded you flatly.

"You definitely had your faults as a boyfriend," you agreed with a laugh, taking Kodoroki back from his hands and fluffing his ears to your liking before returning him to his place of honor next to your computer monitor.  "But I can't imagine a greater Hero than you."

"How thick are these doors?" Shouto whispered, hitching a thumb towards your boss's office.  "Is your job in Jeopardy if Deku overhears you supporting another Hero?"

"Please," you scoff dismissively, bopping Kodoroki on the nose before you log back onto your PC to resume working.  "He has no place to judge when his office can double as an official satellite location for the All Might Museum."

[wooawi]

my favourite thing to write has got to be perspective. specifically “making the good guy look like the bad guy and vice versa”.

Lila is a compulsive liar and a heartless manipulator? No, Lila Rossi was the new girl in Paris. Just another face in the endless wave of day to day tourism the city saw. She was nothing special, not really, and everything around her seemed to remind her of such. But, with a new arrival comes a new life, and she decided that this was her chance for a change. Something unique, something special.

All it took was a few well-placed lies. A whisper here, a mutter there. Just little things, things so extraordinary that people would rather stare in awe than fact check her, yet insignificant enough that if she was caught, it wouldn’t matter. She was ready, prepared to live this exciting facade she had restlessly created.

But, as with all things, it wasn’t enough. She wanted more, namely what the superheroes of Paris had. The two most beloved individuals in the whole city. She wanted a piece of it, wanted to be loved with even a fraction of the feverish fervour their fans showed them. Besides, who hasn’t lied at least once about a celebrity or two? Something small, something childish but still awe-inspiring.

“Ladybug saved my life once.” She dropped to the girl who ran the semi-famous Ladyblog. All she got was a nod and a smile. Lila gritted her teeth in a wide smile and thought hard. She needed something more. Perhaps…

“And then, well. We became best friends.” There! Those looks! The bright eyes and intrigue! The rapid fire questions and curious approaches! That’s exactly what she was looking for. Nothing could have brought her down, she had thought. Nothing could’ve popped her bubble of joy and brought her back down to Earth; Back to commonalty.

Well, nothing other than Ladybug herself.

Swooshing down from the bright sky too fast for Lila to see, too fast for Lila’s brain to form a proper plan, a way out, an escape route–

“Well hey Lila! How's it going? Long time no see. I saw your interview on the Ladyblog, awesome job!” …What? The Ladybug, hero of Paris and beloved celebrity, knew of Lila? Sardonic tone be damned, Lila was known! She hasn’t shifted into obscurity like she feared, and never would if Ladybug knew her! Oh goodness, she could’ve kissed the hero where she stood!

Her hands were reaching out, about to cut the hero short to salvage what she could and turn this glorious opportunity to her advantage, but Ladybug flinched away from her touch and narrowed her eyes derisively. Lila flinched in turn, her hands frozen in the air with realisation.

But, no. No way. Surely a celebrity wouldn’t waste their time calling out one overzealous fan… right?

“Oh sure!” The hero sneered, her nose scrunching in distaste. “I remember our instant connection when I saved your life and we've been really good friends ever since! Practically BFF's!” Yes exactly, now please, please, go away. Lila was practically begging in her mind. The allure was wearing off, the true horror of what this meant for the rest of her life here stamping itself into her mind. All she had to do was put one word in and get Ladybug to stop talking–

“Uh actually, when did I save your life again, Lila? I don't recall.” Shit, shit! Lila glanced at Adrien’s emerald gaze, his curious eyes soft yet accusing at the same time. Her own eyes stung, a familiar yet unwelcome emotion gathering in them.

“Oh yes! Of course, now I remember. Never! And we're not friends either! Miss Show-Off here was trying to impress you and everyone around her.”

Silence.

Ladybug’s speech had worked her up enough to heave the hero’s chest with unsung breaths, her cheeks flushed with anger. She stood waiting, her leg placed between Lila and Adrien on the bench, the divide palpable. Both of them, Adrien and Ladybug alike, kept their eyes on Lila as if the girl was an incompetent child on the verge of a tantrum. As if she going to lash out, to push back on a quest long failed and forgotten. Lila jerked her head away and squeezed her teary eyes shut.

Plip plop. The first two drops sank into her flimsy leggings leaving circular dark spots in their wake. Adrien gasped and Ladybug jolted hard enough for the motion to be felt across the bench. The clicking of a tongue could be heard.

“So I guess you aren't the descendant of a superhero either?” Lila didn’t dignify the ask with a response. Ladybug had aired out her dirtiest laundry in a fit of rage, for some reason known only to the hero, and Adrien had the audacity to push? One by one, her lofty ideals of Paris and its beloved were crumbling before her very watery eyes.

Ladybug scoffed when Lila didn’t reply. “She's more like a super liar.”

Yes, and? Lila wanted to say. It had never been a sore spot for her, her ability to weave falsehoods into palatable stories a thing of pride in her mind. And yet, Ladybug had managed to twist it into something to be looked down upon, something she should be ashamed of. Lila felt something hot and sickening unfurl in her chest.

“How dare you?” Lila wasn’t aware of the words escaping her mouth until she found herself staring up into Ladybug’s taken aback face. The brunette tried her hardest to glare through all the tears and snot, trying to make herself as intimidating as possible, trying to do something to avenge herself somehow. But…

But Ladybug rolled her eyes and turned away, her face changing to something softer once she was facing Adrien. With her back turned and Adrien staring back, mouth agape as if unsure what to say, Lila understood perfectly. She was left forgotten, discarded as an afterthought, as if she was nothing more than a bug squished beneath the hero’s shoes.

Lila choked on her half-formed words and gathered herself and the shattered pieces of her pride from the bench. Then, she walked away, her face scrunched and hands clenched.

[fiercynn]

Hey I’d love poetry recommendations! And thank you for your reply to that post, it pissed me off but I don’t think I could have worded it as well as you did

i'm very happy to recommend poetry!!! i have a ton of recs but am going to keep it to contemporary poets i've been reading recently just to keep this manageable haha

i'm gonna recommend specific poetry collections, and if you can purchase them that would be great to support the poets and the small presses that tend to publish them, but if you can't afford to or don't live somewhere where you can access them, you can also search their names and find some of their work online

birthright, george abraham

i don't think i've ever read a collection that has hit me this hard. george abraham (they/he/هو) is a queer palestinian american poet, performance arist, and writer who was born and raised on unceded timucuan lands (jacksonville, FL). birthright is their debut collection, and its title is based on the idea of the "birthright" trips that israel funds to bring young jewish adults to israel and indoctrinate them into becoming zionist settlers. the collection is based around abraham's own trip to palestine, the "inverse of birthright", and it is absolutely stunning. the way they write about the grief and fury of the colonized, about gender, about memories and history and palestinian liberation, is gorgeous and heartbreaking and utterly galvanizing.

once, a language failed me & i hadn't a home to claim it in my own throat— in Arabic, the word for tonsil translates to daughters of the ears—we are taught that to have a body is to carry its lineage inside of us— & i've tried to make a language where my blood was just mine—but my tongue rejected it. spat it out like a mouthful of Arabic—maybe it was defense mechanism; maybe this is how i cough up blood [ translation: how i cough up History ] - "Lexicon Of"

sacrament of bodies, romeo oriogun

romeo oriogun is a queer bisexual nigerian poet born and raised in lagos, who now lives in the united states. sacrament of bodies is a powerful collection about grief - both his parents died when he was young; about the violence of both homophobia and colonialism; about love and sex and desire and more. sacrament of bodies was his first full collection after publishing several chapbooks; his most recent collection is the gathering of bastards, which i have not yet read.

I do know about the hate that sinks a name and turns water into homes drowning boys, I cannot speak because my mouth is a grave. Every day men hurting bodies filled with love are praised as heroes are hailed as saviors opening bodies into fields eaten by locusts. - "Departure"

okay so tumblr hates me and i accidentally posted this when it was not completed!!! i have more recs but i'm going to do a part 2 replying to another person with a similar ask instead of trying to salvage this post 🤦🏾‍♀️