#i barely hesitated when ripping off a chunk of memory crystal for him

[fisheito]

This was my introduction to bunny waiter eiden,which warrants a cut because I'm me🫢😑😐

I wuz screaMun because ppl weRE FAST ON THAT SHITE the dash was lighting up with eiden intimacy room details and i was Aghast LIKE NO!!! I CANNOT LOOK UPON YE .

I must RUN INTO TH3 QI LALAPP .APP. POSTHASTE

Oh got THERE HE IS . DIVERGENT DREAM? PLEASE ohhh look he's doing magic tricks just like he was just showing off to kuya in sleepless fun fair awww the continuity!!!-----

SHUT UPPPP I AGREE WITH YOU 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭🥺😭

So I FINISH READING the chapters that are released and i get to the Battle stages and OhMo what's this i see

Multiplier?+?+?+++!!!

Ohhhkaaaaayy that means i have to roll for eidento get my max rewards NoOooo;;; he's always eluded me I'm gonna lose all my comtracts qnd BE EMOTIONALLY CRUSHED 3 YEARS IN A ROW (ノД｀)ノ eiden PleaSe come to me i want your furniture my floors are barren i am in desperate need of chairs for my tables and your little nightstand of beverages PLEQSE. I HAVE SO MUCH OF YOUR FAVOURITE FOOD. PLEASE.

PSPSSPSPPSPSSPSPSPPSSPS

GasP NO...ITCANTBE!!!!

>?! In THE FIRST 20 PULLS. wsit who are u protecting what is the story behind your line--

MY NEW FURNITURE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THANK YOU BEAUTIFUL BLESSED GENEROUS EIDEN MWAH I ML OVOE U

now. what are you. Are you going to help me in battle what's your deal

Light guardian!!! That's cool!! Don't have a light guardian in my battle roster!!

Wtf is going on!!!!! This doesnt look like a set of pure guardian skills!@!!! WHATEVER! IT'S FINE! IT'S EVEN BETTER, ACTUALLY BECAUSE I DOUBT ANY REGULAR GUARDIAN CAN OUTCLASS SR MORVAY ANYWAY

Hmmm...... does that mean i won't really need this eiden for most battles? Morv has been carrying me and idk if it's worth it to build eiden to 3 stars because i only have 1 of him... that would cost a LOT of memory shards... :/

BUT EVERY EIDEN HAS BEEN SOOOO USEFUL UPON RELEASE. I CANNOT MISS OUT ON HIM THIS TIME!!!

CRYSTALS FOR YOU, .YMY LIEGE 🫴🫴🫴🫴🫴🫴 . Did i just drop the 5400 memory crystals I've been saving for years oh whatever i still have SOMe left

WAughH i NEED TO LEVEL HIM NOW I DON'T KNOW WHEN I'LL NEED HIM IN BATTLE BUT I NEED TO BUILD HIM *NOW*

MUST REACH MINIMUM TIER 6 SPECIAL ABILITY!!!!! I CAN (PROBABLY) AFFORD THAT MUCH I CAN BUILD HIM MORE WHEN I ACTUALLY USE HIM IN BATTLEA AA A A A AAAAAAAAAA WHER E IS MY GOLD I NEED COIN

AND NOW FOR THOSE INTIMQCYROOM BUFFS

Aaahhhh..... eiden is now the default face once i enter the Intimacy Rooms..... yes, this feels proper. Arrival of the king. Positioned Where he rightfully belongs.

Oh Glorb I FORGOT THAT GIFTING EIDEN PORTRAITS DOESNY USE ANY POINTS LET'S GOOOWWEEEEEEEEEEE

FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS SALTED AND SEASONED I nEED TO HEAR HIS 18 SECOND ORGASM NOISE (<- so the legends say.idk. i never counted. I should count now. what The FriauK wAS TGAT SQUEAK)

How did it only take ~200 portrsits to unlock all 5 rooms what have i been hoarding for why didn't the other eidens come to me SIR I'M KEEPING YOUR FAVE SNACKS IN MY PANTRY FOREVER SO YOU'LL BE ENTICED TO VISIT. EIDEN YOU'RE KILLING ME IM RUNNING OUT OF ROOM FOR MY OWN SNACKS BECAUSE YOURS ARE TAKING UP ALL THE SPACE--!!

5-room-buffed now. BReathes. ok. Fine, we're good. We're o k ay. I cant watch the rooms yet, though. Not until the full event is released. I need to know everything before i dive in. AAAAAHHHH HHHHHHHHHHHHH I FINALLY HAVE AN EIDEN AT TIME OF RELEASE!!!!! A CURRENT EIDEN!!! HE IS WITH ME AND I'M NOT BANKRUPT! WWAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

..nd this is me after that whirlwind of emotion, which all happened in <10 minutes

Eiden put me in some sort of trance

Whe4rn am i.?

Why are my coffers empty

[disgruntledspacedad]

Aftershocks (1/5)

The Better Love Series 

A sequel to The Rules of Engagement 

pairing: Javier Peña x Fem!Reader (Ears). Part of the Better Love ‘verse. 

summary: That bomb fucked you up a little more than you thought. h/c, fluff.

words: 1.5k 

warnings: 18+ - canon typical violence, angst, hospital stuff. This one is mild for me.

a/n: unbeta’d. Gif by @javier-pena, banner by @cassandras-nest​, title card by yours truly.Takes place hours after ROE leaves off. This won’t make a lot of sense unless you’ve read Rules first.

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five 

MASTERLIST 

A deep, throbbing ache in your back drags you back to the land of the living.

Ugh. 

You rub the crust from your eyes and wiggle your toes with the awkward effort that comes from heavy sleep. It’s late afternoon, the sun sinking low in the sky, falling in gentle patches over the crumpled comforter. Reality comes back to you in slow, muzzy chunks. 

You’re lying in Peña’s bed. He’d ridden you hard, then tucked you in afterward, snuggled comfortably beside you while you’d drifted off. 

The lazy smile dies on your lips as you remember just why Javier Peña had felt the need to throw you against the wall and fuck you like there was no tomorrow.

Your apartment. A blazing fireball. Smoke and ash and rubble. Emilio’s broken body. 

You choke back a sob. 

Javi.

Your chest throbs as you remember how he’d looked at you, eyes shining and desperate. 

“I thought I’d lost you.” 

How he’d held you close, tucking you gently under his chin as if you were the most precious thing in the world. Wild sex in the hallway, gentle sex in his bed. Snuggling up together afterward. His soft confession, “I’m all in, Ears, if that’s okay with you.”

Your brain spins dizzily in an attempt to process it all. Despite all of the pain, fear, drama, and uncertainty of the past 12 hours, you can’t help feeling a profound sense of relief. Sure, you’ve lost everything you’ve ever owned, but at least you have Javi. 

That thought still boggles your mind. 

You roll over, kicking your feet to untangle them from the sheets. Javi’s side of the bed is long cold. Sighing, you haul yourself up on your elbow, surprised when you have to catch your breath to do so. 

God, you’re more sore than you thought you’d be. 

Your heart races as you stand, and you press your hand to your breast bone, feeling a little woozy. Gray spots swim in your vision, and you blink hard, forcing them away. You hadn’t realized you’d stood up so fast.

Slowly, you patter naked into the hallway, following the sound of Javi’s voice. He’s in the kitchen with his back turned to you, speaking lowly into the telephone. He’s still shirtless. 

You crack a grin at the memory. 

Now that you’re standing up, you’re starting to feel a little more stable. Thoughts are still fuzzy and distant, and your pulse thrums skittish in your ears, but at least you’re not going to pass out. Your chest feels weird, though, like your lungs have been scraped raw, and taking a deep breath sets something throbbing deep in your back. Your head aches like a bitch, too. 

Fuck Pablo Escobar and his fucking bombs. 

You snatch Javi’s green shirt off the kitchen counter, still lying half-folded where you’d dropped it this morning. Javi raises his brows at you, and you shoot him a wink as you slip into it. He’s still on the phone, talking to Messina, you think, but his eyes follow you darkly as you make your way to his bathroom in search of some pain medicine.

Climbing onto the toilet to peruse through Javi’s bathroom cabinet feels like more effort than it really ought to be. Again, your heart speeds, and you double over, suddenly panting for air. 

A minute or so later, Javi finds you sitting on the toilet lid with your head in your hands. 

“Hey,” he says, pausing as he notices your position. He drops to his knees in front of you, taking your hands in his. “What’s wrong?” His voice is laced with concern. 

You look up at him. He’s all dark eyes and somber expression, watching you warily with a deeply furrowed brow. “Just a little dizzy,” you admit, hating to see him worry over you. “I was looking for a tylenol. My back is killing me.”

Javi blinks, as if the thought of keeping medicine in a medicine cabinet has never occurred to him. 

“I can find you something,” he says, and somehow, you just know that means he’ll be sneaking across the landing to borrow from Connie’s stash. “But baby, are you sure I don’t need to take you to the hospital? You look a little pale.”

“I’m sure, Javi,” you answer firmly. The thought of getting dressed and leaving the apartment is absolutely abhorrent right now - you are still bone weary. You decide to offer him a compromise. “If it really bothers you, I’ll see somebody tomorrow after work.” 

Javi shakes his head. “You’re not going in tomorrow, babe,” he says slowly. “I already talked to Stechner.” There’s a little bit of hesitation in his tone, like he’s wary of how you’ll react. “Once word got around about the bomb, everybody was looking for you. I didn’t mean to butt in, but I really didn’t want to wake you, either.” He reaches up to rub the back of his neck, almost apologetically.

In a different situation, you think you might be annoyed by his interference. But Javi is staring at you with those solemn, worried eyes, one errant curl falling across his brow, and you find that any frustration you feel is buried deep beneath exhaustion and maybe even a little gratitude. “Guess I’ll let it slide,” you tell him, cracking a small smile. “This time.”

He answers you with a tiny breath of relief and a quirk of his lips. “Good.” One long thumb massages your knuckles absently. “He’s put you on leave for the rest of the week. Says get some rest and maybe some therapy, and he’ll see you on Monday to talk logistics.”

You snort. “Asshole.”

Javi’s expression is a little darker as he agrees. “So,” he says, leaning back on his heels to pin you with an intense stare. “Doctor tomorrow?”

“Doctor tomorrow,” you promise, allowing him to pull you to your feet. “Tylenol now.”

“Bossy,” he complains, reaching up to stroke your cheek like he just can’t help touching you at every opportunity.

“Assertive,” you’re quick to correct, swallowing back a shiver. All of this soft, sweet caressing is very new.

Javi grins, a gentle, fond expression that crinkles his eyes and makes him look years younger. “Have I mentioned how good you look in my shirt?” he murmurs, meeting your lips for a slow, deep kiss that steals your breath. One hand roams up to gently cup your breast. 

“You don’t have to,” you answer smugly, catching that wandering hand in a firm grip. Your heart is racing again, but for all of the wrong reasons. “Now, go raid Murphy’s medicine cabinet for me, please.” 

“Yes, ma’am,” he laughs, shaking his head at the fact that you know him so well.

That woozy feeling redoubles just as soon as Javi shuts the door behind him. You bite your lip, counting back the hours since you’ve had anything to drink besides coffee. Even that had been a long time ago. Probably you’re just dehydrated.

You make your way to the kitchen, feeling numb and detached as you shuffle through the cabinets. Javi has a startling lack of normal drink wear, but you manage to find a nice set of crystal tumblers lurking above the sink. 

Typical.

Again, climbing requires an alarming amount of effort, and something uncoils painfully in your chest as you reach over your head for a glass. You flinch, and three of the tumblers go flying, shattering on the floor with a horrendous crash.

Startled and off-balanced, you stumble to your hands and knees, heedless of the glass shards that are digging into your bare skin. Your vision is graying at the edges again, and you can’t fucking breathe. 

“What the fuck?” Javi’s voice is hard as he slams open the front door. “Babe?”

“Sorry,” you wheeze with the very last of the air that’s left in your lungs. Panic sets in, your body responding to the acute lack of oxygen in the only way it knows how. “I was -”

Speaking sets you coughing, and suddenly, you’re coughing so hard that you can’t stop, great, wrenching spasms that send pain racketing through your entire body.

Javi drops the bottle of pills he’s holding. They rattle against the floor. “Ridiculous woman,” he grits between clenched teeth, reaching down to haul you to his chest. You know he doesn’t mean it. “You are not fine.”

You press your fingers to your lips, one last rasping cough ripping its way out of your throat. When you pull them away, they are covered in tiny spots of blood.

Javi freezes as he sees it. “Jesus Christ.” 

Your teeth are chattering, your entire body shaking. “I’m -”

“Goddammit, if you tell me you’re fine one more fucking time, Ears,” Javi growls, allowing the threat to trail off.

You shake your head. “I’m not,” you manage. Everything hurts, and words are difficult right now. Your throat is raw, and you still don’t have enough air. “I’m sorry. I was, but now I’m not.”

“Come on,” Javi’s voice is terse, worried. You have the foresight to grab his sweats from the counter before he sweeps you off your feet. “We’re going to the hospital. Now.”

♠

notes/confessions:

I promise, promise, promise, this is going to turn into fluff. Please don’t kill me!

Originally, Aftershocks was going to be a huge one-shot, but nah. I thought I’d try smaller chapters for once (read: chaotic jay cannot plan shit to save her life). 

Let me know if you’d like to be added or removed from my tags!

Tags: @jedi-mando, @perropascal, @aerolanya, @pikemoreno, @bitchin-beskar, @mostly-megan, @huliabitch, @starsandmando, @starlight-starwrites​, @thirstworldproblemss, @knittingqueen13, @yespolkadotkitty

Javier Peña tags: @magpie-to-the-morning, @tiffdawg, @danniburgh

[incensuous]

fuyumi angery

fandom: bnha (do i even go here? not really lol) characters: dabi & fuyumi, shouto’s here, natsuo mentioned words: 860, gen supposed to be a crack fic, but there’s very small feels

read on AO3

He’d forgotten Fuyumi was Endeavor’s daughter just as she was their mother’s.

Fuyumi doesn't really resemble Endeavor, she hardly looks like him except for the eyes they both inherited. She rarely became angry, but when she did, it was a small wonder any of them made it out alive. (There was, of course, a clear distinction between her and Endeavor’s fury; she was never cruel.)

She’s staring at him directly now, glare more glacial than the ice daggers she’d manifested between her slim fingers, and is seconds away from hurling them directly at his face.

Her eyes are narrowed and her small nose flared in her fury. It’s a jarring difference against most of his memories, where Fuyumi’s face was sweet and rounded with childhood.

This Fuyumi before him is about to murder him.

Rightfully so, he muses. He had come close (not for the first time, either) to harming her baby.

Shouto is on the ground, pleading with his sister to run, I can handle him!

Fuyumi doesn’t respond, only clenches her fist, and the sharp icicles rain down on his head.

Dabi can’t hold back the yelp, as he catches two or three with his arms. They leave gashes, cutting open skin.

They had always known Fuyumi’s quirk could have been strong enough for being a Pro Hero, but she had wanted a different path (and it went unsaid their father had taken any potential hero ambitions and turned them to ash).

Dabi is busy dodging the overhead projectiles, when suddenly a giant chunk of ice catches him square in the gut.

“Fuck!” He doubles over and clutches at his abdomen.

He could’ve summoned his flames, blue in color to match her frost, and melted it all, but if he looks at her face, he can’t do it—he can’t bear to use his fire against her.

Shouto’s eyes are wide with pride and amazement and worry.

Dabi would feel pride too, if he weren’t busy avoiding becoming skewered by the one person he’d never be able to raise a finger against, the one person who’d never hurt him.

Well, before this. (Before he became someone she couldn’t recognize.)

Even from where he is, he can tell she’s starting to feel the exhaustion of overusing her quirk, but she shows no sign of letting up. He fears she’ll end up hurting herself. 

He can’t help it, the words spill out of his mouth in his desperation to catch Fuyumi’s attention, to make her stop, before he can think.

“Dammit, Yumi!” he cries out, the name rusty on his lips, the familiar bickering tone (angry, frustrated, impatient, but never with any bite, not for her) emerging from years of disuse, “Quit it!”

She barely responds, launching more and more crystals at him.

Had she not heard him? She is not reacting at all to hearing an infamous villain call her by her childhood nickname.

He holds up his hands in surrender, attempting to placate her.

Fuyumi takes long, marching strides towards him as the barrage slows. He can feel the ire rolling off her, nearly pushing him to his knees. Her brows are knit, and her mouth is twisted into a frown, a fearsome expression clearly spelling out his impending demise.

He pleads again, as she nears, “Yumi, it’s me!”

“I know!” she growls.

His eyes widen.

“Touya, you asshole,” she heaves, and her bare small fist decks him in the jaw.

Dabi stumbles, groans and gently cradles his face, mumbling, “I guess I deserved that.”

Suddenly, he feels chilled hands grab his shoulders, and he’s about to protest any further abuse, when Fuyumi pulls him close, pressing her face into his neck.

“I hate you!” she wails.

His heart breaks, not because he actually believed her, but because both of them know she never could.

“I know,” he whispers, arms coming up to hold her tightly, a practiced movement he’d never grow out of, no matter how long he lived or how many different names he took. “I’m so sorry.” He’s not sorry about a lot of the things he had to do, quite frankly, but he regrets Fuyumi had to be part of his collateral. He wasn’t the brother she deserved.

“I’m gonna kill you,” she promises, earnestly, voice muffled. “I’ll do it. No one would catch me.”

He hums, smoothing down her hair.

“Then you won’t have to pretend being dead,” she huffs. “Your shrine is gonna be for real.”

“Love you too,” he whispers back. Dabi wisely doesn’t comment on the wetness he feels against his shoulder.

“Nee-san?”

Shit. Dabi raises his head from resting against Fuyumi’s, and catches the bewildered gaze of the youngest Todoroki progeny.

Fuyumi, sniffling, turns her head and waves a tired hand at her baby brother to come closer. Shouto hesitates, still giving Dabi a wary stare, but his sister breaks into a watery smile, juxtaposed against her twin’s guarded expression. “Come hug your dumbass brother.”

(“Natsu’s gonna be pissed, too,” Fuyumi mumbles when Shouto finally shuffles closer and she pulls him in.)

(“RIP,” Shouto says solemnly.)