#inspo: name one hero who was happy

[kamaluhkhan]

KARMA'S A GOD !!! luke castellan x nemesis!reader

SPILL UR GUTS

i. THE GRUDGE (or: the 7 things luke castellan hated about you): luke hates your guts. he really does. he just hopes that no one could tell how, even after all this, you're still everything to him.

ii. GET HIM BACK! (or: the 7 reasons you wanted revenge on luke castellan): you're very angry and possibly still in love with luke castellan. kill him or kiss him — you still aren't sure what he deserves.

+ WE'LL WRITE SINS NOT TRAGEDIES

i. sloth (IDLE WORSHIP) *: you and luke, on the roof of the hermes cabin after curfew, getting high and fooling around ;)

ii. envy (I BET ON LOSING DOGS)*:  luke is getting tired of keeping your relationship a secret, you get a new sparring partner, and silena beauregard wins a bet.

iii. pride (BAD REPUTATION)*: luke will do just about anything to keep his title as truth or dare champion.

iv. lust (COMPLICATED)*: the lives of demigods are never simple. why would your relationship with luke be any different? four moments of tension + one moment of release. featuring a trip to montauk with percy, grover, and annabeth.

v. wrath (FUCK U IF I CAN’T HAVE US)**:  luke starts leading an army from a luxury cruise ship, chris is tired of hearing him whine about your unofficial break-up, and clarisse convinces you that the best way to channel your anger is to join her in the sea of monsters.

vi. gluttony (GUILTY AS SIN?)**:  after a mission gone wrong, you unknowingly take the fall for a friend; you get drunk with the enemy; and you start to think that, if they’re going to crucify you anyway, you might as well indulge in a few fatal fantasies.

vii. greed (A DEAL WITH GOD)**: artemis offers a solution to your existential crisis while hermes makes it worse, luke meets his would-be-mother-in-law, and you challenge the olympians to finally do the right thing.

*set during the lightning thief/season 1 of pjo

**set post-the lightning thief/season 1 of pjo

[soulgazingwithbucky]

protect, ch. 2 (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Summary: You've spent your life protecting your younger brother, until an invitation from Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes turns everything on its head.

Warnings: mentions of parent death, reader feeling traumatized, some violence

Word count: 5.8k

A/N: wanted to share my inspo for this fic! i was inspired by mcu phase 4, and wondered what it would look like for bucky to pass the mantle. obviously this fic took a different turn and doesnt rly focus on that, but nonetheless wanted to share :) hope you enjoy. divider credits to @lesbiacebian!!

Masterlist: {one} | {two} | {three}

And so you find yourself grumpy and groggy in the passenger seat, scolding Tomas.

“The next time they want you to train at this hour, tell them to eat shit,” you groan, arms crossed over your chest.

Tomas glances at you. For a second, you look like a smaller version of Bucky, moping about a situation you put yourself in. He names his observation, and you slowly drop your arms and release your scowl.

Sam and Bucky have grown to be close confidants in the past few months, checking in on you nearly as much as they spend time with your brother. Sam’s counseling sessions are on your only day off; when he picks up Tomas for their appointments, Bucky stays behind, helping you with errands or otherwise keeping you company. He seems more than happy to accompany you on grocery trips, help you with minor projects around the apartment, or just enjoy a film with you. You didn’t realize that during these weekly visits, you unconsciously picked up on some of his mannerisms.

Tomas stops short of a chain link fence. He presses some buttons on his phone, triggering a mechanism that slides the gate open. You squint at the spacious area; it’s nearly bare, save for the low lights illuminating the tarmac and the tall, metal building that looms to your right. Tomas delicately presses the gas pedal, and the car lurches forward at an agonizing pace. When the car just barely passes the gate, Tomas shuts off the car and switches off the headlights. You stare at your brother, who looks solemnly ahead–he has never done anything carefully in his life.

In all honesty, you thought Tomas would be meeting a date. After all, he told you about a last-minute “mysterious training” that happened to be in the middle of the night? You weren’t stupid. Under normal circumstances, you would wave him off and tell him to bring back the car in tip top shape. But in case that it was some corrupt alien monster trying to lure him out, you insisted on accompanying him. You figured you would make sure he was safe before taking off. He fought against this, only fueling your theory that he was indeed rendezvousing with some pretty thing. You had let him think he won, until you threw yourself into the passenger seat right when he was about to leave.

Rookie mistake, thinking you would ever let him win an argument.

But now, with Tomas’s knuckles paling with his grip on the wheel, his gaze steely and his body trembling in expectation, you wonder what you’ve walked into. Tomas holds his breath and the car now falls into complete silence as you both watch a small aircraft exit the hangar. Two figures follow, towing what looks like weapons and manila folders.

“Tomas, what’s–”

“Stealth exercise. Bye, sis,” he says quickly. Before you know it, his speedy ass is out of the car, making his way over to Sam and Bucky.

And he expects you to believe that? You quickly leave your seat, following after Tomas.

“What is going on?” you hiss, much to Tomas’s horror. He turns around, silently waving you off with an aggressive gesture of his hand.

“Oh, I know you did not just–”

Obviously, at this point, you have earned the attention of the heroes, who have stopped at the top of the airplane stairs. Startled recognition paints Sam and Bucky’s faces, and the latter points an accusing finger in Tomas’s direction.

“You got some fuckin’ nerve, kid,” Bucky growls. The light from the hangar illuminates his burning stare and tense snarl.

“I thought we made it perfectly clear–,” Sam begins.

“I know, but I can help you guys. I’m ready,” Tomas insists as he attempts to close the distance between himself and the two men.

“Aht!” Sam says, holding his hand out to stop your brother from ascending any further.

“Ready for what?!” you say from the bottom step.

Over the comms system, their pilot confirms they are ready for takeoff.

“You need to leave, now,” Sam instructs gravely.

“Both of you,” Bucky emphasizes.

“Great, have a good night,” you say. You’re donning well-loved pajamas, and the thin fleece does nothing to protect you from the evening chill. You grab Tomas’s sleeve, turning around and tugging him along. He shakes you off, keeping his eyes locked on his mentors.

“No way,” he tells them. “I’m coming. You guys have been talking about this forever, and it’s about time I get some field experience–”

“That’s not for you to decide!” Bucky says, exasperation dripping in his voice.

“I concur,” you add. Bucky gestures towards you, as if to say, See?! Can you listen to your sister?!

Through their earpieces, their pilot asks them what the hold up is. As Dr. Banner remotely tracks their mark’s location, he urges, “It’s now or never, guys.”

Sam glances at the airplane, then at the both of you. He looks at the stairs you’re all standing on, knowing that the aircraft can’t take off unless the area is clear and, most importantly, he and Bucky are on this damn plane.

After a few years of working as partners, Bucky can practically read the man’s mind.

“Sam, no–”

“I know, I know.” Sam turns to both of you, anger painting his features. “Get in, now.”

Tomas tries to mask his smile, knowing full well he is in trouble with the three most important people in his life. But he got away with it, didn’t he? He pieced together that Sam and Bucky were leaving for an assignment from the hushed conversations between training sessions. When he saw a text on Bucky’s phone naming a crime organization that had Tomas on their short list, he had to find a way in. So he could tell those bastards thanks, but no fucking thanks before breaking all of their noses.

“Fix your face,” you tell him discontentedly.

“As soon as we land, our pilot’s taking you back,” Sam grunts. “We’ll find our own way back. Banner, did you copy that?”

“I’m already here! You might as well make use of me,” Tomas argues.

“For what?!” you say, still in the dark about all of this.

Bucky addresses you, though his darkened eyes are still fixed on your brother.

“Organization called The Snakeroot Clan,” he says. He tears his eyes away from Tomas to face you. “They’re based in Japan, but we got word that some of their members are here on business.”

“The goal was to apprehend Harry Kenkoy and Feruze. But now it’s to make sure you two get home safely,” Sam picks up.

Tomas exhales loudly, earning a glare from both you and Bucky.

“They are dangerous,” Bucky says through gritted teeth. He feels the frustration bubbling and he suddenly rises from his seat to the back of the cabin, facing away from everyone in an effort to calm down. How stupid could this kid be to put himself in danger? And to put his human sister in danger right alongside him?

“Crazy dangerous,” Sam confirms. “They’re not just criminals–some of them are also mystics. They’ll fuck you up, kid, in more ways than one.”

“And that’s exactly why you took me to Kamar-Taj,” is Tomas’s rebuttal.

“That is not why we took you to Kamar-Taj!” Bucky yells, slamming his fist along the adjacent wall. In a split second, he’s in front of Tomas, leaning over him. Your heart stutters, and you’re ready to pull the hero back, but Tomas doesn’t back down, leaning forward until their noses are practically touching.

“You’re on a suicide mission, kid; you made a stupid plan like it’s your duty to put yourself in the line of fire when there are other people perfectly capable of doing it without–”

“Can’t help it,” Tomas spits. “Growing up, I drooled over my fucking history books, learning all about a man that no one believed in with a dumb plan to help save the world.”

Bucky is stunned, and Tomas breaks their staredown, hard eyes absorbing the night clouds you’re flying through.

“I heard he had someone by his side who stuck by him and believed in him,” Tomas spits. “But sis, you were right. Never meet your heroes.”

Sam and Bucky glance at you before sharing a look. You can only open your mouth, only to shut it. It was what you had told him when Steve Rogers was invited to read a book based off of him at Tomas’s former elementary school. Tomas had begged you to pick him up early from school so you could try to get even a glimpse of his hero. You agreed, but by the time you arrived, he was long gone, whisked away by something more important.

Sam stops thumbing his shield, standing up to use the lavatory. He claps his hand on Tomas’s shoulder.

“If it helps any, he was a hardass on Steve, too,” Sam whispers with a small smile before disappearing into the bathroom.

“I heard that,” Bucky grumbles. “And that punk deserved it, too.”

While the plane roars around you, you and Tomas are having a silent exchange. He can see the anger, understanding, upset, confusion, and sympathy in your eyes.

I had to, sis, his eyes are telling you.

I know, is the message your expression is sending back. But you’re gonna wish the evil sorcerers got to you first when I’m through with you.

He smiles, shifting his gaze to the airplane window once again.

“Look, I’m sorry, kid,” Bucky speaks up from across the aisle.

Tomas huffs. “I tried to come without her. I knew you would react like this if she came.”

“What does that mean?” you say. Much to Bucky’s relief, Sam’s exit from the bathroom is perfectly timed.

“He can take us to the entrance, Sam,” Bucky decides. “And then he gets his ass back to the plane. Immediately.”

His partner cocks his head at the idea, but has no rebuttal. Through their earpieces, Dr. Banner announces that the pilot has started their descent.

While Sam is handing Tomas a gun, Bucky takes his earpiece and places it in your hand.

“‘Cause I know you’re gonna be freaking out in here,” he explains. You manage a smile.

“Tomas comes back in one piece, you hear me?”

He nods solemnly, knowing your humorous tone is only a mask.

“You all come back in one piece.”

“And you stay put,” he responds. You nod, placing the communication device in your ear. He places a reassuring hand on the side of your head, smiling when you unconsciously lean into his touch. This time, it’s Sam and Tomas’s turn to exchange a look.

“We gotta go, Bucky,” Sam says, before turning his attention to the young man beside him. He points at his chest, emphasizing, “Entrance and back.”

“Entrance and back,” Tomas repeats with a grin. He meets your concerned eyes with a nod before disappearing into the night with Sam and Bucky.

For the first few minutes, your legs feel like jelly. Your nerves glue you to your seat, and you can only manage to buckle and unbuckle your seatbelt numerous times. You stare out of the window, hoping to catch a glimpse of your brother or the heroes, but can only see darkness.

The next few minutes after that, you’re pacing the cabin’s length, suddenly restless. You wipe your clammy hands on your pants, looking around for something to make yourself useful. Sitting around doing nothing was never your thing; Bucky’s simple request to stay put in the cabin was not a simple request for you. You decide your goal is to find a weapon, in case a mystic or two find the plane and need their asses handed to them.

While you search the aircraft, you hear Sam’s voice over comms, informing Dr. Banner that they’re about to meet the target.

“You sure you don’t want to do this instead, Banner?” Bucky muses.

“Covert is in your wheelhouse, not the big guy’s,” Bruce responds. “Be careful.”

You give up trying to get into the weapons locker, and instead decide on the aircraft’s fire extinguisher as your weapon of choice. You nearly invite yourself into the cockpit to confer with the pilot in case you were attacked, but you decide that the best plan would be to leave them alone so they could do their job.

You sit back in your seat, gripping the extinguisher. The red metal chills your lap through the fabric of your pajama pants. You fight every urge to run out into the darkness, to follow after your brother, knowing your role tonight was to practice patience and trust.

After a few agonizing minutes of silence, you sigh in relief at your brother’s hushed voice through the communication device in your ear: “They’re in the building, heading back now.”

“Roger. Watch your six, kid,” Bruce responds.

“Name’s Tomas,” your brother responds, and you can practically hear the goofy grin spreading across his face.

You peer out of the window, waiting to see your brother’s lanky figure appear through the darkness. One minute turns to five, which turns to ten, and you feel your stomach tying itself in knots.

“Bruce, come in,” you speak up.

“Go for Bruce.”

The plane door swings open, and you jump, nearly knocking the extinguisher to the floor. You quickly get to your feet, extinguisher aimed, but quickly drop it to hug your brother.

“Oh my god,” you breathe, pulling back and smoothing his windswept hair.

He gives you a lopsided smile.

“They told me to update our pilot, let her know everything’s on track. Means we’ll be leaving at the expected time,” Tomas says. You nod, but pull him into your arms one last time before he disappears into the cockpit.

Bruce’s voice comes over the communications system, and you slap your forehead. You had completely forgotten that you reached out to him.

“Bruce, I’m so sorry, everything’s good–”

He cuts you off, his voice low with a slight tremble. “You need to leave.”

The urgency in his tone is everything you need to know. “Wait, let me get Tomas.”

“No, you need to leave.” He is speaking quickly. “Operations logistics, including communication with the pilot, is strictly done remotely. By the mission lead. Me. Agents on the ground are there to focus on their job.”

You freeze, right outside of the cockpit. “What are you saying, Bruce?”

“Sam and Bucky would never tell your brother–”

You hear a strangled scream on the other side that causes the hair on your arms to rise. But the scream cuts off, the unnatural silence sending another round of chills through your body. The door swings open, and you swear your brother’s eyes flash purple as he fixes his gaze on you.

“Sorry,” he chuckles. “I wanted to do that a lot more subtly.” He has a blade in his hand, and he’s wiping the crimson residue on the wrist of his jacket. He’s slowly moving towards you; with every step forward, you take one step back. Your eyes flash to the extinguisher on the ground, the door on your left, the bloody knife in Tomas’s hand.

“You…never had a knife.” Your hands are reaching around behind you, trying to keep your balance as you continue to create distance between yourself and your sibling.

Tomas looks at the knife, then at you. He taps his temple with the blade, as if to say silly me. The gesture leaves a ruby dot on the side of his head.

“Duh. Sorry,” he says. He sheaths the knife; in the same instant, he pulls out the gun from Sam, pointing it at your head. “Is this better?”

“RUN!” Bruce yells through your earpiece, and you push past your brother, reaching for the aircraft door. You make quick acquaintances with the floor when Tomas grips your ankle, twisting you and dragging you back towards him. Your vision becomes a jumble of white stars and ceiling panels. Still, your legs kick as hard as they can, trying to release you from your brother’s painful grip.

Tomas appears to be talking to himself as he pulls you to the back of the plane. “I like this body. Real strong, real fast.”

This man looks and sounds like your brother, but the glint in his eyes and the inflection in his tone tells you that, right now, this is not the person you’ve been raising the past few years.

“Tomas! TOMAS!” you scream, clawing at his hands, hoping to trigger your brother back to reality. Were it not for the adrenaline, you might feel the tears flowing down your cheeks, the rhythmic throbbing in your head, the pain in your ankle as the bones threatened to snap under the superhuman grip.

You try to pull your head away from the barrel of the gun, but you’re pinned–there’s nowhere for you to go. Tomas presses the barrel right between your eyebrows.

“They say we need you,” Tomas huffs. He grits his teeth before moving the gun away from you, as if it puts him in physical pain to not put a bullet in your head.

You hear the door swing open once again, followed by heavy footsteps. Tomas’s eyes follow the intrusion. You act quickly, reaching out until your fingers find the extinguisher. You swing as hard as you can, hearing the metallic clank as the object collides with your brother’s head. As he reels from the impact, you propel yourself backwards on your heels until you feel arms hooking underneath you and lifting you to your feet. Bucky spins you until you’re facing him, giving you a quick assessment before stepping in front of you.

Sam moves forward, launching his shield at Tomas. The younger man ducks behind a seat, and the weapon ricochets off of the back wall. Bucky captures the shield in his right hand and leaves Tomas no time to prepare as he throws it in his direction again.

“Snap out of it, kid!” he urges as Tomas dives out of the way. The shield returns to Bucky, and he moves as though he’s about to throw it again. Tomas readies himself, but doesn’t notice Sam sneaking to his side, his fist connecting with your brother’s jaw. Tomas crumples to the ground, and you instinctively move forward, stopped only by Bucky’s left arm across your decolletage.

Bucky lifts the shield and Sam raises his fists.

“Sis?” Tomas’s voice cracks as he calls for you. He lifts his head, and your stomach turns again.

“Tomas,” you gasp in recognition. There’s the familiarity in his eyes, the voice that you’ve known for the past nineteen years. You push past Bucky, going to comfort your bruised and fearful sibling.

Tomas sits himself up against the wall, groaning as he feels the injuries on his body. He winces and grasps his side. You check over him with worried eyes as Sam tells Bruce to call for backup. Bucky is unloading an extensive first aid kit next to you.

“Tell Doc Strange,” Tomas groans as Bucky flashes a light into his eyes, “I need a re-up on that protection spell.”

“Idiot,” you and Bucky tell him. Your eyes meet at the shared utterance, and for a moment, the world melts away in the ocean blue. You find your mouth turning upward in an amused smile, one you were sure you couldn’t manage just a moment ago.

“They know I’m still here, right?” Tomas asks Sam, who rolls his eyes and shrugs.

And so you watch Captain America settle down across from you, taking a grateful sip of the fresh coffee. Bucky had just left with Tomas a couple minutes prior, telling Sam that he would never be able to keep up at the track with a super soldier and an enhanced being. Sam had waved him off with a yeah, yeah, but you know their jests were a kind attempt to make you feel better about the true purpose of the day.

The days since your brother invited himself to the Avengers’ mission have been…rough, to say the least. After the adrenaline finished coursing through your bodies, you and Tomas were left with the brutal reality that he nearly murdered you.

On his way back to the plane, he was accosted by several members of the Snakeroot Clan. Just as Sam warned, they fucked his shit up. Bad. Bucky relayed the information from Dr. Strange: the spell was basic, but sufficient. A mystic was able to take over Tomas’s mind, but the enchantment was limited in proximity. The further Tomas traveled to return to the plane, the weaker it became; several knocks on the head were sufficient to loosen the spell’s grip on your brother.

All the while, Sam and Bucky found themselves ambushed. Comms were down within the facility’s walls, and they could only hear the occasional crackle of Bruce’s voice. Bucky had seen red, knowing that if they managed to trap him and Sam, you and Tomas were faring worse. The thought was nearly unbearable, and Bucky had most of the clan slumped to the ground before kicking the sealed door open. Sam had stared at his shield, wondering if his presence was even necessary, before following Bucky back to the plane.

You and Tomas were in limbo. He apologized profusely, and you forgave profusely. He was a jumble of I’m sorry, I should’ve paid more attention at Kamar-Taj, I never should’ve put us in that situation. You were the choked responses of it’s okay, I’m just glad you’re okay, let’s check on that knot on your head. You were afraid to be around each other, but also afraid to be without each other. You wanted to hug your brother, ruffle his hair, lovingly call him a piece of shit, but you couldn’t get the image of him almost killing you out of your head.

Bucky had disappeared for a couple days, too; his rage rendered him unable to remember anything between getting to the facility and bandaging Tomas up, and it terrified him.

“It’s normal,” Sam tells you. You shift uncomfortably in the dining seat. “I hope you know that.”

You’re not sure what’s normal about being afraid every time you open a door or turn a corner, terrified that your own brother is waiting, gun in hand.

Sam sees this, continuing in a tone that is the perfect mix of gentle and firm: “It’s not gonna go away by itself.”

Your jaw clenches.

“What do you do to take care of yourself?”

Take care of yourself? You don’t know, eat, sleep, maybe put on a TV show every once in a while? Though now that you think about it, you’ve been working through your lunch breaks, avoiding moments of rest that were just filled with terrifying flashbacks. And sleep wasn’t exactly sleep–more like tossing and turning until sleep happened to overtake you for a few minutes, then you would wake up and start the restless cycle all over again. Oh, and the TV show was mostly background noise while you researched mind control–

Sam calls out your name. You blink yourself back to reality, realizing you haven’t said a word since you’ve sat down at your kitchen table.

“When my dad wasn’t running the restaurant, he was in church.”

You look up at him, recalling stories about the Wilson family that Bucky learned on his visits to Delacroix. You see Bucky’s bright eyes and big smile as he told you about Cass and AJ, about Louisianian cuisine, about Sam and Sarah’s bickering.

“And my mom was there for every one of his sermons, in the third pew.” He looks down at his mug with a chuckle. “Never the first, because Titi Nisa had a hearing problem and Mrs. Roberts was too short to sit anywhere else.”

You smile, imagining a woman with Sam’s friendly grin helping other church-goers into the rows in front of her.

“And never in the second pew, no, that was for newcomers. Families that had just moved in, visitors from out of town…They deserved the second row, not the pastor’s wife.

“But when my dad was killed, she started sitting in the back row.

“And when my mom got shot, that’s when I started going.”

He lets out a mirthless huff, a sharp and emotionless exhale through his nose.

“I was so mad. My dad stood in front of the congregation every week, talking about seeing the good in people, about our duty to do things to make the world better. I mean, shit, I dunno, I wouldn’t know, I wasn’t there.

“But I hated myself. When I went to bed, I had dreams that they were still alive, that I was getting ready for church with them. I feel like I replayed every waking moment. What if I tackled the dude before he pulled the knife out on my dad? What if instead of going to that birthday party in the second grade, I stayed and hung out with my mom? And when I wasn’t torturing myself, I was putting on a tough face so Sarah would be able to look at her big brother and know that everything was okay.”

Your eyes prickled with tears and your nose stung, hearing an all-too-familiar story. You had seen Sam in many different lights at this point: the hero of great skill, the coach of short patience, the joker of quick retorts. Bucky filled in the gaps of your Sam Wilson knowledge bank, painting a picture of a magnificent uncle, a more-than-capable partner, a trusted and beloved friend. But never had you expected to see him in this light.

“I was in college,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady, “when Mom died. Um, heart attack. We had no way of knowing. I was at a lecture, Tomas was in class. I got in my car and I drove. I, um, drove for hours. My university was out-of-state.

“When I got there, um, she was–she was gone. Tomas got to say goodbye, but I didn’t. He told her we loved her. That we would be okay.”

You quickly wipe the tears before they trace down your cheek.

“Sam, I don’t feel okay.”

He nods. His eyebrows twitch as if they want to furrow in sympathy, but he stops himself.

“The one and only time I was on campus after that was to withdraw. I got a job at the restaurant around the corner, I picked up extra shifts, I started working at this store in the mall–to make sure we were okay–”

“Yeah,” Sam cuts in. He sees how your chest heaves, how your breathing is turning erratic. “Yeah, I know.

“So let me ask you this. If you close your eyes and picture yourself calm, and happy, what do you see?”

You take a deep breath, trying to clear your mind as your eyes close and Sam disappears behind a curtain of darkness. You reach into your memory, pulling out moments of joy.

“Um, watching Tomas win competitions. Watching our favorite shows, especially the ones we liked as kids–”

“I’m gonna stop you there,” Sam says, and your eyes open. “What about…something without Tomas?”

“Without?”

“Yeah. Um, listen, we know how you love him, but a lot of your life revolves around your brother. And that’s great, you know, but I think…sometimes, you’re as dependent on him as he is on you.”

Your first instinct is to immediately shoot down the notion. But you realize how quickly you want to deny the sentiment, and you wonder why that is. You press your lips together.

You close your eyes again.

“A couple months ago, I drew a bath, lit some candles, watched this cheesy movie. Um, I saw some friends from high school a year ago–we saw a comedy show, then grabbed dinner.”

You smile as your words summon the memories to your mind. But a different picture paints itself over the recollections. You’re sitting at the edge of the couch, looking over at your favorite part of the film, smiling proudly as Bucky laughs, right on cue. You’re shoving leftovers into your fridge as Bucky returns your dining table to its original spot, making easy work of the furniture pieces. You see his cropped dark hair, his soft blues, his bright smile.

Your eyes are wide when they open, and you pray Sam doesn’t notice as your face floods with heat. His face, even the subtle smile, betray nothing.

The oven clock informs you that your time with the captain is up.

“You’re good, Wilson,” you say. “You’re good.”

He gives a dismissive shrug as you both rise.

“That’s why they pay me the big bucks, right?”

“They pay you the big bucks?”

“Nah.”

You and Sam stop in front of the front door.

“Thanks, Sam,” you say earnestly. “You didn’t have to do all that, and–no, stop, you really didn’t. You were a counselor for war vets, for heroes. Not for people like me. You’re a good friend.”

“What makes you think you’re not a hero?” he says. “Your brother thinks the world of you, you know.”

You give him a lopsided smile.

“And that bionic staring machine looks up to you, too.

“Not me, though. I think you kinda suck.”

He shoves his shoulder into you jokingly as you laugh at the sharp turn of his words. You open the door, ready to quip about kicking him out. On the other side, your brother waits with his keys in hand, Bucky standing expectantly beside him.

“Mile time is down to two minutes and thirty-four seconds, sis,” Tomas announces with a grin, shooting you a thumbs up. You find yourself looking closely at his eyes, making sure there’s no hint of a purple hue.

“Got a great view of the back of my head the whole time,” Bucky adds.

Tomas deflates, crossing his arms over his chest. “Yeah, and your knees haven’t stopped cracking since,” he grumbles, earning a laugh from Sam.

At the training facility, the four of you look over Tomas’s lab tests.

“Everything looks good,” Bucky confirms, meeting your eyes and nodding.

“But it’s just as we suspected,” Sam said. “Your cells regenerate at regular levels, meaning you don’t heal like an enhanced. Can’t jump out of planes with no regard like this idiot here.”

Bucky is about to retort, before realizing Redwing’s footage somewhere in the ether. He settles for a displeased grunt.

“You’re up, Cap,” he tells his partner.

You and Bucky prop yourself up against the boxing ring’s ropes, getting a clear view of Sam and Tomas at the rock climbing wall. Sam is having him scale the wall incrementally, gauging at what height Tomas would need equipment for a safe landing. Bucky knows he wouldn’t be the most qualified for this session, because…

“I kinda just…throw myself at things,” he says, scratching his neck. “There’s really no better way to put it.”

You laugh with a shake of your head. “You’re a super soldier, not a boomerang, Barnes.”

He shrugs. “Don’t underestimate me.” He has his phone in his hand, flipping it around absentmindedly. You watch his nimble fingers for a few seconds.

“Hey,” you say, a lightbulb going off. “You should train me.”

He raises an eyebrow at you. “In what, exactly?”

You shrug, nervously wiggling your foot, feeling a phantom hand wrapping around your ankle. Despite the passage of time, your bruises remain, serving as a torturous reminder.

“Self-defense, I guess. Maybe some cool moves to impress the ladies, or whatever it is you do.”

He smiles, stepping backwards off of the ring’s ledge. It’s not a bad idea, and he wonders why he didn’t think to offer it first.

“So you’re saying I impress you,” is his takeaway. His eyes scan the pegboard in front of him, running his fingers over the selection of weapons. He selects two training knives before making his way back to the ring, swinging himself over the ropes.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, now, Barnes,” you tease as you take his hand. He helps you climb over the ropes, his hand finding the small of your back as you lower yourself into the ring.

Bucky takes you through some basic techniques. He shows you several grips, pairing them with the best flicks, slashes, and thrusts. You’re surprised at how much you have to focus on your footwork. Bucky moves your hips, even guides your knees and crouches down by your feet. When you yelp as his hand gently prods your ankle forward, Bucky reels.

“No, it’s not you,” you say, propping your right foot on your toes to alleviate the pain. “Just…still sore.”

While he’s still bent low to the ground, Bucky silently offers you his hand. Questioningly, you gingerly place your hand in his, and he guides you down beside him. One hand forms a loose circle right above your ankle, the other grips your shoe. He draws slow circles with your foot, earning a hiss from you.

“HYDRA sent me to the Philippines for a few months,” he tells you. “First, for an assassination, but I was ordered to stay. Train with one of their contacts, who was an expert in a local form of knife fighting. Some of the most impressive knife skills in the world. Breathe, doll, breathe.”

You force an exhale as Bucky rotates your foot in the other direction. “Knives are really more the…Soldier’s thing. I stopped using them a long time ago.”

“I had no idea,” you said. “Maybe we shouldn’t–”

“We definitely should. Use HYDRA’s training for something good, right? Someone good. That feel okay?”

“Yeah,” you breathe. “Thanks.” You look up at him, trying to relax the pained scrunch of your brows. He smiles, tells you anytime. With his eyes meeting yours, his skilled fingers coaxing the pain out of your body, you feel your heart nearly beating out of your chest. Bucky moves forward, reaching further up to press circles into your calf.

“You’re tense,” he comments, but you swear he’s speaking to your lips and not to you.

“Not for the reasons you think, Bucky,” you say, finding your own eyes tracing down his face. His oceanic eyes, the curve of his nose, the slight part of his lips…

Bucky’s hand moves further up, finding the top of your thigh. He’s closer than ever, his free hand finding yours, pulling the knife out of your grasp and guiding your fingers between his.

The gym lights flicker on and off, startling you. Bucky hangs his head for a brief second; when he peers upward, he smiles, pushing himself backwards.

“The facility will be closing in five minutes,” an announcement comes over the speaker system. “If you have any items in the lockers, please get them now.”

As Bucky is helping you up and out of the ring, Sam tells Tomas to gather his things. When the teen is out of earshot, he presses a name on his phone.

“Sarah? Hey, you’re gonna love this…”

Masterlist: {one} | {two} | {three}

Taglist: @vicmc624 @zizzlekwum @monique2281 @d3m0n8ch1ld @just-a-stan Feel free to leave a reply/ask if you want to be added!

[mha-fic-recs]

Welcome to @mha-fic-recs, a gimmick blog for recommending My Hero Academia fanfiction!

Ran by @gendervoid-tokoyami

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Fic recs are queued up to post once a day on Monday, Tuesday, Thursday, and Friday at 3:30 PM PST. Prompts are queued up to post once a day on Saturday, Sunday, and Wednesday.

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If you see your fanfic being recommended on this blog and you don't want it to be. Then feel free to send an ask (or DM this blog) and I'll make the post unrebloggable + then delete it.

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Watch out for manga spoilers!

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Sometimes the queue will run out and not be refilled in a hot minute. Sometimes the queue is faster than I read or come up with prompts.

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If you decide to read of the fics recommended on this blog, then make sure to pay attention the tags!

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You can send in asks for asking for fic recs!

Fic submissions are open, but I will be reading through the fic before making a rec post.

Fic submission rules (Last updated: August 12th, 2024) ->

You must include the fic name, author, and website. As well as any content warnings you deem important enough should be included in the ask as well.

Self-promo is allowed. If it's a fic you've written please include it in the ask.

One fic per ask.

Fics will be rejected if you constantly spam it or constantly ask if it's in the queue or constantly ask if I'd read it yet.

Fics with on-screen sex-scenes will be automatically rejected. No shame towards those who read and write NSFW Fics, just not my kind of thing when it comes to MHA fics.

Fics with fade-to-black scenes are fine though.

Fics with zoophilia will be automatically rejected.

Non-vent Fics with pedophilia, incest, and rape will be automatically rejected.

Vent fics where the pedophilia, incest and/or rape happens will be rejected if it happens on-screen and/or there is no happy (or hopeful) ending for the victim/victims. Of course, no shame to those who write those types of vent fics.

Fics will be automatically rejected if it's an AU, crossover or fusion with the following pieces of media -> Harry Potter/Marauder/Other J.K Rowling related media, Hazbin Hotel/Helluva Boss, and Hatelia.

Fics where it’s canonical minor x canonical adult with the minor aged up will be automatically rejected. Including if it happens post-timeskip.

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Prompts!

While prompts are made with fics in mind, you can use them for anything- fanart, roleplay inspo, etc!

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Fic Tagging system -

Any characters tagged are characters with a distinct POV

*Title* - *Author/Authors* [*Website*]

Status tags - #Fic [Completed] | #Fic [Incomplete]

Chapter Tags - #Fic [One-shot] | #Fic [*2-9(+) Chapters] | #Fic [*number divisible by 10*(+) Chapters]

POV Tags - #Fic [First Person POV] | #Fic [Second Person POV] | #Fic [Third Person POV] | #Fic [Chatfic]

Other Tags - Fic [Crossover] | Fic [Fusion]

Website Tag - #Fic [Ao3] | #Fic [FFN] | #Fic [Wattpad]

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Prompt Tagging system.

Universe Tag - Prompt [Alternate Universe], Prompt [Canon], Prompt [Canon Divergence]

Character Tag - Prompt [*Character name | Past name/hero/villain/vigilante name*]

[ofmermaidstories]

Ya know, I think it says a lot how powerful someone is at storytelling when you can reel back in someone who - in the last who knows how many months - had been preoccupied with so many things. But the moment I saw your announcement on Twitter I sped through all my work so I could clock out early, eat and shower so I can snug in my bed to read the final chapter of SJLT and it was beautiful 🥹🥹🥹

Scribbles and Izuku make such a cute af couple. How they fought and held onto one another, to get back to the other. The dedication and desperation and infinite love they have for one another was so passionately described I teared up a little 🥹

The part with dear Kacchan also made me gasp in shock. Like I'd expect nothing less but at the same time I felt my we lil heart crack

And of course the ending was satisfying I loves it and I thank you for it! You write beautiful happy endings!

Congratulations on finishing this story!! And as always, I look forward to reading more of your work in the future!

Also I like to listen to music I feel suits whatever I'm reading. If you're looking for music inspo, or just something new. I found myself stuck with these songs while reading the last chapter of SJLT.

God is the space between us - Barry Can't Swim

I've been in love - Jungle

Love God - Sarah Kinsley

Hummingbird - James Blake

Más Que Tu Amigo ("More than your friend") - Marco Antonio Solis

soar. 🌊🩵 my ocean heart, hello. i need you to know i have your suggested songs playing, while i’m answering this. 😌 you always have such dreamy tastes! 🥺 sarah kinsley, especially, always makes music that makes me feel like i’m floating in the sea. 🥹 but—

dsklfjlksdjfsd. soar, i’m so glad you’ve been here with me, in and out, as we started and finished this fic LOL. the big fics are always such… idk! an investment, i guess. like not just writing but reading, too, and it always means so much to me when i see familiar names pop back up to say hello, or point out things they liked. 🥺 i’ve always seen scribbles and deku as like, more passionate than weeds and bakugou, or even shouto and his Reader—scribs and deku just operate on a different wavelength, i think, LOL. it suits them both, in the end. 🥹 i think izuku—i think all the heroes, really—throws so much of himself into everything, 110%, that he needs someone who can feel just as intensely as him. 🥹 and a combo like that can be… gruelling, LOL. they worked hard for their happy ending. 🥹

soarenn!!! i hope you see this. 🌷🌾 thank-you for the music, and thank-you for the kind words, always. here’s to the next happy ending you find, in book or fic. 🌈✨📖

[felikatze]

Nice chapter btw! My favorite line had to be: "Always, always, pretty perfect Lucina, solving everything by herself."

I leave a formal long comment on it later this week but that line left me with such huge feelings. Had to get it out.

Lucina is the one who stays in the light with naga while morgan with grima has to stay in the darkness. Lucina who is "always a hero that will help everyone and is perfect". Like the relationship angst between siblings is my personal favorite part of this fic.

I LOVE THAT TOO THANK YOU VERY MUCH!!!!!!!!!!

it's so many different factors combining. i think if you look at the flashback dream sequence from chapter 5, you can see what i consider the start of morgan framing lucina as invincible

"Is it safe there? What about Lulu?" "It's safe for you there, yes. No, we can't take your sister with us. She'll be fine here." If Father said so... Sister would be fine.

Robin said Lucina will be fine, so she obviously will be, no matter what Morgan does.

Like in battle they always just assume Lucina will win. Because Lucina is the perfect hero. In chapter 6, Morgan stabbing Lucina with Thoron is obviously intended as a callback to how Robin killed Chrom - this is how Chrom died, and Morgan still thinks "Lucina will shrug it off."

You gathered Thoron's might into a crackling blade of pure electricity, fully intending to ram it into Lucina's side. It would be enough to lay her low for weeks, and more than enough to steal her weapon.

Morgan honey doing this killed Chrom. She would not just be "laid low for weeks." She would be dead.

It's a very warped framing of childhood admiration.

Morgan simultaneously dehumanizes and reveres Lucina, which is very fun for me to think about and write.

I also think it's very fun to give them small similarities, i.e.:

Morgan: "My name? Does it matter? Just know that you are not fated to die here. Farewell."

Lucina: "My name bears no meaning here. It's a simple precaution."

Fun fact: "My name? Does it matter?" is actually part of Fell F Morgan's summoning quote! Fell Morgan in Heroes remains a hige inspo for me. I know I said there were actually Two refs to heroes morgan in chapter 6, but I think i actually cut the second one and just forgot.... rip

Again, thank you for the ask!!! I restrain myself from doing character analysis in my Author's Notes on Ao3, but tumblr is fair game! And I love doing it!

It just makes me so happy every single time that the dynamics I put a lot of thought into land with my readers!!

[beloved-cat-gremlin]

Have been in a phase of remaking a bunch of OCs I created a few years ago.

(Rambles under the cut)

These two were originally gonna be part of an actual fantasy book I wanted to write, but little me's writing was pretty bad.

Might still use 'em for a fantasy story, and I'll probably keep some of the original plot elements from my first idea. But I'll most likely change the core story.

One thing I will keep for sure however is the whole "protagonist ≠ hero" story line. I guess it would be considered spoilers if I say it here but Amaryllis was never meant to be the hero in the story. When I was younger and I learned that a protagonist doesn't always have to be the hero of a story, I wanted to create one of my own with that idea.

Don't get me wrong, she's still an important part of the story and without her it wouldn't have ever started, but Fenrir was always going to be the main hero of the story. The one to bring it to an end. (He actually got a name change because I wasn't happy with his old one)

However it was meant to be a misleading story with Amaryllis seeming to be the main heir but then it turns out she isn't. (Who knows if I'll keep that aspect or if I'm gonna go straight in with her not being the hero)

Both Amaryllis and Fenrir went through a design change before. So technically this is their second redesign. Originally Amaryllis wore pants but her design felt so bland and I just didn't like it. The only changes from her second design to her current one are actually just her skin color and the added ace ring on her hand.

(funny enough when I wrote the first few intro pages of the story I really made her ace coded on accident. I guess the saying of "if you are Aro/Ace/AroAce and write characters they will be Aspec coded" are true)

Fenrir got the biggest changes however. Especially from his second to third design. His original design wasn't far off from his second, both with a lot more whites and light blues in the design. His first one was mostly inspired by Link from the Zelda series. You can still kinda see that inspiration in his third design, but I also took inspo from Cloud on this one. (Same with the name if you couldn't tell)

Also I accidentally made him into a FE character with that color pallet. I realized after I finished coloring. TT

I might make some future doodles with these two of story moments and important scenes. Which I did in the past as well but my art direction sucked back then. I was also planning on giving both of them a second design for the final act of the story. Amaryllis already had one planned from the start, but I might make one for Fenrir as well. The scar on his left cheek was meant to appear during the story, but I have other plans for that now.

[kamaluhkhan]

look, you didn't ask to be a half-blood

1. "last day of summer" from the lightning thief musical ; 2. unknown ; 3. eleckra by sophocles, trans. anne carson ; 4. "second chances" by gregory alan isakov ; 5. desireé dallagiacomo ; 6. "castles crumbling" by taylor swift ft. hayley williams ; 7. percy jackson and the olympians tv series, season 1, episode 8

[kamaluhkhan]

okay just saw a video of a guy getting a tattoo of a bitemark left behind by his girlfriend and i feel like this is something luke would do....thinking.....

[anxiouslittlepossum]

(heavy inspo from the comments, everyone there is brilliant)                                  ((this is also littered with headcanons sue me they make me happy))

Oh it starts at one kid, sure. A child of Hermes, to be precise. About three weeks later, though, a new kid arrives. Quickly pulled aside, they are informed by their peer of another god, who speaks kindly with Mr.D, Chiron, Hestia and Apollo when he is there. Who is chthonic, and who resides at the camp. But he is on a mission right now, away when you arrived. The newcomer thinks this has to be a prank. He doesn’t believe. At least, not until two days later, when He returns. Freshly claimed as Hypnos’s son, standing and staring beside his friend, as a boy who radiates power stepps out from the shadows. The two are amazed to see the robes, and especially the crown. Definitely a god.

A mere five days later, a daughter of Iris arrives, and the two companions are quick to inform her about the deity, who doesn’t seem to wish to be called a god, who uses the mortal name Nico, who is in love with the camps head counselor and healer. She is quick to believe, the proof standing right before her eyes and beating Mr.D at pinochle.

The three come to the conclusion that new campers are expected to figure it out on their own. It is, after all, quite obvious. Still, the trio agree to tell all incoming campers, regardless of anything, just to be on the safe side. It’s the kind thing to do, look out for their fellow campers to ensure there are no mistakes. Can never be too careful, where gods are concerned, can you?

So they, and every new camper from then on out Know. They Know of the god who does not share his name, who becomes soon engaged to Will Solace, who favors so many heros. They do not quite know his domain, but they still pray to him. He’s here willingly after all. He helps to train them. He’s their sparring teacher for crying out loud. He must wish for them to succeed, to become great. 

All the campers from that point on send most of their sacrifice to their parent, and a little bit to the god. Most of the children of Aphrodite and Apollo in this number pray to their parents that Will Solace will be made immortal. Two lovers, so alike but so different, for eternity. Think of it Mother! Forever the Nurse of the gods, your son assisting you and in love with your friend, for all time. Wouldn’t it be wonderful, Father?

Almost as quickly as it spread through the newcomers of Camp Half-Blood, the probatio of Camp Jupiter soon came to know that the ambassador of Pluto was more than he first claimed. A shy god. Odd, but not unwelcome. The prayers quickly grew in number upon their return to California.

New campers come and go. Nico and Will stay, for the most part. They lead and help new campers, they heal and are an ambassador. They marry, Joyfully.

The entire camp soon believes and prays to the god know only as his presumed epithet, or mortal name; nobody is quite sure. Nico. “Victory of the people”. If the rumors are to be believed, the son of Hades is the God of Noble Sacrifice, Patron to All Heroes, Psychopomp of the Heroic and godly protector of Camp Half-Blood and (slightly less-so) Camp Jupiter; when he is not away performing duties of course. And if further rumors are to be true, his husband will join him in immortality, only after he dies. One sacrifice, all for love. The love will exist forever more, they only have to wait a bit. He is the friend of this ages greatest heroes, the likes of Percy Jackson, Annabeth Chase, Hazel Levesque, Frank Zhang, Leo Valdez, Piper McLean, Reyna and Thalia of the Hunt and former Jason Grace. He is the demigods’ teacher, their leader, and for those brave enough to speak to him, their friend.

And one fateful winter, so similar to his first at the camp, the Man grew feverish. He Burned. And he was man no more.

As the Fates deemed it, all the rumors were to be True.

I know we all love the god/deity Nico. But just consider. Nico mistaken as a god.

Why? Because srsly, just imagine it.

You’re a new camper. You’re 8,9,10,11—idk, and your siblings are giving you a tour around Camp. You guys reach the Big House, and there’s Chiron, Mr.D, and then him.

This kid - not so much older than you’re - who wears all back, a sword by his hip, a distinctly powerful around him, sitting at the same table with Dionysus and Chiron. They have been talking when you arrived. He greets you with a silent nod.

Later that day, you see him again at lunch/ dinner. Still sitting with Dionysus. His plate is empty. They talk through out the meal. Perhaps he doesn’t need to eat.

You notice he has a private house all for himself, not so close to other cabins. Maybe he doesn’t like others trespassing in his place.

He’s also the quiet and reserved type, you figure.

He doesn’t talk much. But when he speaks, everyone listens. Whatever he has to say is usually impactful.

He usually sits with the goddess Hestia during the campfire. Rarely someone joins them. Will Solace does sometimes, probably bc the guy’s friendly with just everyone.

You see him in the Arena. His power is absolutely terrifying. Like. God-tier.

You take note of the fact he sometimes leaves Camp for days on a mission or an errand. Something about ghosts and Underworld. As far as you know, no one else in camp does that kind of task. And you absolutely didn’t expect the Underworld to be so easily in and out of. Not for a demigod, at least, because even the mighty Percy Jackson dislikes going there.

He talks about Cerberus and the Furies and Charon and calls Hades “dad”. He must be a chthonic deity. That explains his attire.

And the name di Angelo. It certainly sounds someone to take souls to the afterlife. The name Nico should be the equivalent of Apollo’s Lester.

When another god, Apollo - or Lester, comes visit. You see how the Olympian playfully jokes around and laughs with the Kid. In response, the Kid acts completely relaxed around him, despite not being one of Apollo’s children, whereas you’re there being like Omg it’s a God!. You figure that’s how fellow gods treat each other.

Nico di Angelo must be a God, right?

[kamaluhkhan]

second one would be angstier, both would have *spicy* moments ;)))

[kamaluhkhan]

luke castellan fic series based on guts by olivia rodrigo....thoughts....

[kamaluhkhan]

okayyy so here's my plan: we're going full greek tragedy for the next part of my luke castellan × nemesis!reader fic (y'all LOVE to get your heart broken and tbh same) BUT..... im also gonna write an alternative fix-it fic so there's at least a happy ending in another universe. reminder that this series will include smut so 18+ !!

[kamaluhkhan]

working on get him back! (part 2 of the grudge, my luke castellan x nemesis!reader fic) and i need help choosing how to end it....spoilers for the entire pjo series....and i guess the fic too ?? so read at your own risk....

[kamaluhkhan]

i've been listening to ttpd on repeat and it's prompted some luke castellan x nemesis!reader brainstorming....all fics are set post-betrayal

click read more if u want to hear me yap about each of these options :)))

i. DOWN BAD (angst)

set during the sea of monsters ! split POV between luke (on the princess andromeda....iykyk ;)) and nemesis!reader (still at camp half-blood/nyc). they're each ranting to chris and clarisse, respectively, about essentially losing the other while denying their lingering feelings and being v petty

ii. GUILTY AS SIN (angst + smut)

set during the last olympian ! when suspicions about who is the spy start happening, ppl accuse/blame nemesis!reader....even her friends and she's like....fuck it? maybe i will indulge in my fantasies of sleeping w the enemy?? and luke is 100% on the same page

iii. IMGONNAGETYOUBACK (angst + fluff)

set shortly after the lightening thief....the title itself is very nemesis coded tbh. reader reminiscing about times with luke in the past (as friends and in their relationship) and planning ways to get revenge on a certain curly-haired son of hermes for breaking her heart and betraying her (and the gods i guess)!!!

[kamaluhkhan]

click read more if u are curious to know my chaotic thoughts :))

ngl i was kinda losing motivation to write for luke but then i saw this:

and thought of those mitski lyrics

and like.....something about fallen angels. something about love becoming your religion because you no longer believe in what you've been told to worship. something about being so devoted to someone else that it destroys you.

but maybe you prefer option 2!!

like pyramus and thisbe (aka the ancient greek version of romeo + juliet): sneaking around because you're on opposite sides of a conflict. loving every minute of it even though you know it won't end well. the uncertainty and sin and indulgence of it all!!! "these violent delights have violent ends"??? hello???

slightly "decode" by paramore (yes!! the twilight song!!) .....

and "false god" by taylor swift coded....

update: also thinking about these lyrics in "the louvre" by lorde...

there is potentially a way to combine the two... but for now i'll just leave this here :)

[kamaluhkhan]

itching to write a percy jackson x fem!reader fic....set in college / characters will be college age...