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lamuradex · 4 days ago

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Short Story: Academic Rigour

Tales of Hero City Collection

Wordcount: 13,584

Synopsis: Tessa Kwells is a brilliant student, top of her class, and the kind of women who can clear a room with a sharp glare. But, when she finds herself in competition for the top spot, she realises she might need an extra edge if she wants to hold onto her future, and get that extra credit for her grades.

Luckily, she has a supervillain in the family, and a loose enough moral compass to use that.

Witness the origin of Madame Mechanism.

Author's Notes: This short story is one my favourite things I've ever written. I've come back to it repeatedly over the years and that opinion hasn't changed. Tessa has become one of my fave characters, and I really think you'll enjoy seeing her origins.

Please enjoy.

Full Story Under The Break

Academic Rigor

Tessa sat outside the office, her nerves rattling to her core. She clutched her papers so tightly her hands ached. Feeling the pain, she put them on her lap, but that only drew attention to how her knees shook. She took a deep breath.

“Calm down, Tessa,” she muttered to herself, breathing in and out. “You are a strong, confident, and beautiful woman, with the body and musculature of a ballerina. You are a force of nature and have nothing to be scared of.”

A smile broke over her face and she turned to a tall mirror positioned in the waiting room. She was certainly right about the first half. She was a tall, slender, bright-haired redhead with the kind of determination that could scatter crowds with a glare. She winked at her reflection. Then she checked to see if anyone saw that. The only other person nearby was the receptionist, busying herself with a crossword book.

The book was upside down.

“Good crossword?” Tessa asked casually, her words tinged with danger.

“Yes. Yes it is,” the receptionist stammered, throwing the book into a nearby plant. Tessa glowered like a venomous snake as the receptionist frantically got back to work.

That’s right, Tessa thought to herself. You don’t make fun of Tessa Kwells. Tessa Kwells fears nothing. Why should she? Nothing can phase her. Not with her family history.

At that moment, the doors burst open and another student came out. Tessa couldn’t work out where she knew him from, she was too distracted by the tears streaming down his face, the paleness of his complexion, and how he was currently stuck between wailing, screaming and dying. In the end he met somewhere in the middle, and fainted with a squeak.

“I think you’re next, dear,” the receptionist said, and came out to retrieve the fallen boy. “The academic committee will see you now.”

Tessa stood and entered. The room was pitch black, the light of the waiting room vanishing as the doors slammed shut. Then the lights came on. Massive spotlights above that made it difficult to see. When Tessa’s eyes adjusted, she could just see them.

The Academic Committee.

There were five of them, all sat in a semi-circle around a curved desk. The desk stood high, like the gallery of a court looking down. Each of the committee were clichés of bureaucracy, an old, enfeebled, monocle wearing bunch, but they also had the final say.

The leader amongst them was Everton Clark, a fat, smug-looking man with a crown of grey hair at the edges of his head. Beside him sat Elizabeth Vault, an old, elegant woman wearing full makeup. On the other side was Myra Clips, who was quite the opposite. Somewhat younger, she huddled, scowling and sickly pale. The last two Tessa didn’t recognise, but by process of elimination they had to be Victor T Victor, who looked like a wax model of an old war general, and James Crisper, who looked to have been baked on a sunbed.

Tessa stood before the committee. She smiled politely.

“No time for your pleasantries, girl,” Everton Clark barked. “Get to the point.”

“Don’t call her ‘girl’ like that,” hissed Elizabeth Vault.

“She is just a girl. Look how scrawny she is,” spat Myra.

“We all look down on her, don’t we? Our chairs are quite high up,” Crisper said with a cheesy grin.

“Are you being literal or figurative?” Vault asked.

“Don’t start that again,” groaned Myra.

Soon enough Myra was shouting at Elizabeth, Elizabeth was debating with Crisper, and Crisper was insulting everyone else because of their weak complexions. Everton Clark however sat in silence. He scrunched up a paper ball, threw it at Victor, and the old man miraculously sprang to life.

“Order, order,” the old general roared. “Quiet in the ranks, I say, quiet in the ranks. If you don’t quiet down, you will all run laps, I say, you’ll all run laps.”

Everyone fell silent. Tessa was glad, but that feeling quickly left as all eyes returned to her.

“What do you want?” Everton asked again.

“My name is Tessa Kwells,” she said, her stomach in her knees. “I wanted to talk to you about my grades.”

“Your grades? What about them?” Crisper asked smarmily.

“Well, I was hoping to gain something towards extra credit,” Tessa stated hopefully.

“Extra credit?” Myra sneered. “And what have you done to earn extra credit?”

“Well, on top of my main project, which is due next month, I am also working to create a documentary showing the complexities and real life applications of my project. For fun.”

“And what is your project?” Vault leered.

“My thesis is several papers on the physical, theoretical, and societal impacts of superheroes on the economic and philosophical state of our country. How do people like Justice Man or Stealth Watcher affect the world around them? And I’m not just talking about making insurance companies rich,” Tessa joked, trying to break the ice. The ice actually grew thicker.

“What a boring subject,” Crisper criticised.

“Very boring. Very boring,” Victor echoed.

“I guess if it’s factually accurate, it can’t be faulted,” Vault admitted.

“But who would want to see that drivel as a documentary,” Myra drawled.

“You thought we would be interested in that?” Everton finished. “If it weren’t against the rules, I would actually deduct points for that tripe. But I can’t. Instead, I’ll just tell you to get out.”

“Please, I need the credit!” Tessa pleaded.

“Begging will get you nowhere. It’s never worked on any of us before, and it’s not about to start now. Come up with something actually impressive and maybe we’ll reconsider. For now, get out.”

“Yes. Get out!” Crisper, Elizabeth and Myra agreed.

“Yes, yes. Get out, get out,” Victor prattled.

Tessa dropped her head, turned, and walked out. The research in her hands had been useless. The speech she’d memorised was pointless now. It was over.

She couldn’t help but remember the events that had led to this.

* * *

It had been six months ago. Exams and projects were under way and panic reigned supreme. But Tessa had always been a bright girl, and as such took her natural place at the top of the class. Every class in fact. She aced every test and project, because that was how hard she worked. Sure, she was a bit of a social outcast. Sure, many of the other students were scared of her. It wasn’t her fault her confidence was frightening. And it didn’t matter much that one cold glance from her could clear the computer room. Tessa kind of liked being feared. Life had been good.

Then two bad things had happened. The first was that she was late. Once.

She’d been on the bus when a superhero fight levelled the motorway. It was over two hours before they could get everyone over the resulting chasm, and by the time she arrived for class, the lecture was over and she’d been forced to rely on someone else’s feeble notes. Notes which no one had taken. All because of the arrival of the second bad thing.

Brian Heed. A new genius student, who’d spent the entire lecture proving he could recall all the essential facts from memory. Everyone had been so wowed by him, that no one had written anything down, and thus everyone else forgot the lecture. Tessa eventually asked Brian for his notes, but, as it turned out, Brian wasn’t just a genius. He was also a total trash bag.

“Well, this is what happens when you’re late, Tilly,” he had condescended.

“A superhero fight stopped my bus. And it’s Tessa.”

“Well, you should have been listening to the news. They would have told you where was safe. You only have yourself to blame, Tiffany.”

And that was how it started.

That one petty act set a fire of hatred in Tessa. Partially because she couldn’t argue, and partially because he was still insufferably clever. But Tessa took it as a challenge. She kept pace with him, much to Brian’s chagrin. Neck and neck in the run for academia. Nemeses.

But then came the test. The test with question eight on time travelling superheroes. The subject taught in the lecture Tessa had missed. She didn’t know the name of the first ever time traveller, scheduled to be born three years from now. She got a 99%, while Brian got a 100 and crept inescapably into the lead.

And now, as the year was drawing to a close, they were both applying for the same hyper advanced program. The Technology, Electronics, Chemical, Hypothesis, Analytics, Acronym program, or TECHAA for short. There was only one spot and whoever got in would be set for life.

And Brian was in the lead. Tessa had needed the extra credit to make up the difference. And now she was screwed.

* * *

Tessa returned to the present and the waiting room, and her distress turned to fury when she saw who was waiting.

“Hello, Brian,” she snarled through clenched teeth.

“Hello, Tabitha,” Brian grinned, his strangely large head only mildly distracting.

“We see each other all the time-”

“Mores the pity.”

“- so why do you insist on getting my name wrong?” Tessa finished unflinching

“I don’t know what you mean,” Brian said calmly, then walked through the open door into the office. As the doors closed, Tessa could just about hear the words, “Everton Clark, my main man. Father sends his warmest regards, and thanks you for the gift basket.”

Then the doors slammed shut and Tessa felt her spirit leave her.

* * *

Tessa sat at the dinner table, stirring her mashed potatoes with a fork. She looked lost in thought but her mind was blank. Four days had passed. She was closer to the deadline and now further behind Brian. The infuriating brain box had apparently made a functional digital model of Earth, which by the time he showed the committee had already evolved tiny dinosaurs. He was getting extra credit on top of his perfect score. Now Tessa felt truly doomed as she continued stirring her potatoes. Even so, her dread didn’t stop her dodging an incoming sprout launched by her little brother.

Outside of Tessa’s depression, the table had descended into chaos. Mum and Dad were dealing with little brother Magnus and Cousin Greg as they launched sprout after sprout at their respective parents. The grandparents and other relatives were either slightly drunk or overly fed, so every child was functionally unsupervised and hyped up on sugary drinks. Those adults who were still functional were locked in arguments over how the lamb should have been roasted, or how the sports season had been going. Last but not least, Edwardo Zanzibar, the dog belonging to some branch of the family, was running wildly between the table legs eating scraps, making it almost inevitable that someone would trip or the dog would eat too much and throw up.

This was all pretty standard for the Kwells family dinner. Only one chair sat empty, right next to Tessa.

On the other side of the room, Mum had finally managed to wrestle the plate of sprouts from the two boys. They were flinging cutlery now, but not at people, and they soon ran out. With the situation in hand, her mother turned to Tessa and finally took notice of her mood.

“Honey? What’s the matter?” she asked in her best mum tones. She was a short, thin woman with deep walnut hair.

“Just everything I’ve ever planned coming apart at the seams,” Tessa muttered.

“Oh, no need to be so dramatic.”

“I’m not being dramatic. I’ve always wanted to get into the TECHAA. Now Brian will instead and I’ll be left with nothing.”

“That nice boy Brian? Wish him the best. There are other things to do, Tess. Don’t wallow in all this.”

“The person I hate most in the world is about to beat me at my own game, rob me of my dreams, and look annoyingly smug while doing it. I’d sooner send him a lit firework than any well wishes.”

“Don’t be rude, Tessie,” her father chimed in. He was a taller man with the same bright red hair as Tessa.

“It’s not rude if it’s true, and Brian’s not here to be offended.”

“It’s still not nice,” her mother returned, then stopped. “What was the name of that program again?”

Before Tessa could answer, the entire room was brought to silence by a sound. The doorbell had rung. A few nervous people glanced around, counting who was and was not there. Dad hurried to answer it, while Mum seemed to be gathering storm clouds on her brow. Tessa however felt her heart leap. After a minute and some muffled distant talking, the visitor entered.

He was quite the sight to see.

The man who entered was of medium height and quite healthy looking. It was difficult to tell this however, as his skin was a deep sapphire-blue. A great silver beard and moustache jutted from his face, with each and every hair naturally forming into lightning bolts. His scalp meanwhile was bald and shone like a marble. His eyes were bright, with one coloured a sharp green, the other replaced with a mechanical orb which glowed a similar shade. Similarly, one arm was entirely mechanical, gleaming metal and made of pistons. An imposing figure, the entire image was offset by his clothes. He was wearing a brightly coloured Hawaiian shirt, brown shorts, and a pair of sunglasses designed to resemble palm trees. He stood in the doorway, smiling brightly, as people stared nervously or pretended not to notice.

“Hello, everyone!” he greeted joyously, his voice revving with a smooth robotic tinge.

“Hello, Frank,” Mum groaned.

“Uncle Intellitron!” a couple of the kids chimed excitedly.

“Hi, Uncle Frank,” Tessa greeted, smiling broadly.

“I’m glad to see you made it,” Mum said through clenched teeth. “What a surprise to be graced by the infamous Mr Intellitron.” Her eyes darted to her husband, who had sent the invitation against her instructions.

“Good to see you too, Minnie. And thank you, Kent, for sending the invite this time,” Intellitron said in good humour.

“Why don’t you have a seat?” Mum offered unpleasantly.

“Don’t mind if I do, sis.” The blue man walked over and sat himself beside Tessa. “And good to see you too, Zapper.”

“Didn’t think we’d see you today,” Tessa returned, beaming.

“Me too actually, but business was slow. Then there was a bit of an incident during the six o’clock plaza show, so we had to send the customers home.”

“What? One of your secret projects get loose?” Mum derided.

“No, no,” Intellitron answered calmly, long since used to it. “Not one of my experiments anyway. During the show, one of the animatronics stopped working, then it decided to leave the stage and go ride the rollercoaster. Someone was messing with the protocols and accidently changed the personality subroutines to Child Mode. It wouldn’t have been so bad, but the protocol got uploaded to the network. Now every animatronic on the island is riding the rollercoasters or playing in the arcade. But I know my workers can handle it, so I left them to it and came here. As I left I saw Henchman 12 trying to lure the Justice Man animatronic off the flume ride,” he chuckled, wiping a tear from his bionic eye.

“Well, something like this was bound to happen, using death droids as children’s entertainers.”

“Minnie, it’s nothing like that,” Uncle Intellitron countered. “I had the battle androids decommissioned years ago. These ones are entirely child safe, and only made from recycled battle android parts. Now, can we please be civil? I’m not a supervillain anymore and I’ve missed you and the rest of the family.”

Mum seemed to consider it for a moment, then noticed Tessa looking at her with massive puppy dog eyes. She relented and looked back to her sibling.

“Fine. But no shop talk at the table.”

“Agreed,” Frank smiled through his beard. “So, how has everyone been?”

* * *

The dinner went on peacefully and the former supervillain sat and ate pleasantly. He laughed at stories and occasionally related humorous events from his work. Tessa hung on every word. She had always admired her uncle, even before his big change.

Uncle Frank had once upon a time been one of the world’s leading supervillains. Up there with the likes of Annihilator, the Boar-gular, and even Dark Dragon. Mr Intellitron had been feared and hated the world over. Hell, his official nemesis was Justice Man, perhaps the most super of all heroes. While the family had never approved, Tessa always found a certain glee in it, hearing her uncle’s booming mechanical voice delivering fearful speeches from on high.

But then he retired, out of the blue, no warning, and opened a beautiful island resort. The resort had been the cover for his secret lab, but then he saw the profit margins and decided to go legit. The transition had definitely been awkward, but soon enough Intellitron Resorts was one of the most popular holiday destinations in the world, even if most holiday makers still looked at the staff a little nervously. They were all former evil henchmen, after all.

Tessa still admired this change. Uncle Frank had finally found something that made him happy, and wouldn’t put him in prison. It also made the family dinner’s slightly less awkward, though Mum still had difficulty letting go of the past.

As Tessa’s father began to serve up coffee and after dinner mints, the room had lowered into a comfortable quiet. Everyone appeared to be listening to a cousin tell a story about stamps, but honestly no one was paying attention. They were all either blissed out on food, or already asleep. That was except from one corner of the table, where Uncle Frank was chatting with Tessa. He was relating the problems with converting an underwater sub-bay into an Ocean Tours attraction.

“…And of course, the main issue is pressure. Not the water pressure, but launch pressure. Escape subs are designed to go really, really fast, but tourists want a slow trundle. Have to be careful not to set the launch pressure too high, or whoosh!” He mimed something flying off at high speeds.

Tessa giggled. “You could always turn it into a rollercoaster?”

“That’s a good idea. Maybe I will,” he considered. “But enough about me, Zapper. What about you. How’s school going?”

“Oh, right…” Tessa deflated.

“Not good, huh?”

“I don’t think I’m getting into the program I wanted. Instead, Brian Heed-” she whined his name- “is going to get it.”

“Better connected is he? Because there’s no way he’s smarter,” Frank winked his real eye.

“Annoyingly, he might be smarter. And better connected. He’s also smug as the day is long.”

“Oh…” Frank patted her on the shoulder. “What program is it?”

“The TECHAA.”

“Ah, one of old Everton’s creations. He always was as cruel as he was boring.”

“No shop talk at the table,” Mum suddenly shot across at them, hard faced.

“Minnie…” Frank looked back, then gestured at Tessa.

“I said no,” Mum argued, then zipped her lips. The argument was apparently over.

“Mum!” Tessa complained. This argument wasn’t over. “This is important to me.”

Her Mum’s features softened. “I’m sorry, dear, but maybe the TECHAA just wasn’t for you.”

“And what! It is for Brian Heed?” Tessa shouted, shooting up from her seat.

Suddenly all eyes were on her as she realised her outburst. She looked back at her Mum, who looked more concerned that Tessa was causing a scene. With a snarl, Tessa kicked her chair into the wall and stormed out.

“Tessie…” her Mum said meekly.

“I’ll talk to her,” Frank intercepted, and followed Tessa out of the room.

Tessa stormed upstairs and into her room. Of course, it wasn’t exactly a usual bedroom. Research notes plastered one wall, while another had a poster of Mr Intellitron, back from the strange days where companies made merchandise for supervillains. Her bed covers were floral print, but she hated them. She preferred her circuit diagram patterned carpet. Then there was her desk, huddled in a corner, papers piled high, with a video camera, various books, and several action figures of famous heroes and villains. It was easier to get those than actual statuettes.

Tessa flung herself onto the bed, lying on her back so she didn’t have to look at the duvet. Then she rolled over, torturing herself with the floral pattern. She deserved it. She wasn’t good enough to not have flowers on her sheets. When the floral design became too much, she stood, thudded over to her desk, and threw herself down amongst her papers. She looked up and focused on a small framed photo. It was of the academic committee, originally placed to motivate her. Now it simply mocked her.

Knock knock.

“Come in,” Tessa said, pressing her face into her papers again. She knew it wasn’t Mum. It had been a metal hand on the door.

“How are we doing in here, Zapper?”

“Just being completely destroyed, hopeless, and without future purpose. How are you?”

“Look, your Mum didn’t mean that. She’s just worried about you getting your heart broken.”

“She just doesn’t get it. I was so close. But one class, I missed one class, and now I can never overtake Brian.”

“Well, I know a thing or two about an insurmountable foe,” Frank nodded.

“I can’t vaporise Brian,” Tessa groaned. “I’m pretty sure the committee wouldn’t allow it.” She picked up the photo and glared at it. Stupid laws.

Frank reached over and took the picture from her.

“You might be right. Everton certainly wouldn’t approve, but the man wouldn’t rob a bank without filing paperwork at the scene.” He pointed a finger to James Crisper. “You might have a chance with Crisper though.”

“Wait…” Tessa sat up. “You know them?”

“Sure. I didn’t get on with most of them, but you could always go to a club with Lady Lock, not that her husband was happy about it. Of course, you’d always end up paying for the drinks. What is her name now?” He turned the photo over and read the back. “Elizabeth Vault! That’s it. Tsch, nominative determinism runs rampant in our community.”

“Who’s Lady Lock?”

“An old villain from back in the day. Could open any lock. Favoured stealing gold. She broke into my lair once,” Frank reminisced.

“Wait. Chancellor Elizabeth Vault was a supervillain?!” Tessa almost yelled, then stared in disbelief at the photo.

“Of course. All of them were.” He pointed at all five. “I’d always assumed it was just an open secret, I mean, who else could be so evil to run the academic committee?”

“What do you mean all five of them?” Tessa said in utter shock.

“Look,” Frank began, casual as you like. He pointed at Everton Clark. “He used to be Bank Breaker, a banking themed villain. He would only steal bearer bonds and other boring stuff. Mainly does admin stuff for the Villains Bureau nowadays.”

His finger moved over to Elizabeth Vault. “Bank Breaker was married to Lady Lock. She stole gold, he stole bonds. You’d think it was a match made in heaven, but no. They argued constantly.”

He moved on to Myra Clips. “She was Eternal Eclipse. The eyebrows are a dead giveaway. She was a moon themed villain who used magical darkness to commit her crimes. Effective, unless anyone was carrying a flashlight.”

On to Victor T Victor. “Now his name was The Victor. A strange one that. His whole gimmick was that he always won, no matter what game he was playing. He made millions gambling, then turned to supervillainy when the casinos wouldn’t let him in. Had an odd habit of repeating himself. With how long villain monologues are nowadays, it was half the reason he got beaten so often.”

Finally he moved to James Crisper. “Now, Crisper was The Torch. Everyone knew that. Fire themed villain, had a magnifying glass as a weapon, was trying for a sun gimmick. All the insect themed heroes were terrified of him. Honestly though, it was a bit strange as he was already pyrokinetic. I even remember when he was a hero called Burno, with The League of Titans. That was back when I was a kid though, back before he turned evil.”

Tessa sat stunned. All of them. All of them were supervillains. Sure, it explained why they were so cruel, but seriously, all of them?

“Were they like a team or something?” she asked.

“No, no. Sure, they teamed up occasionally, but it never worked out. No, these guys were just separate villains who all wound up in the same place.” Frank paused, remembering he was here to cheer her up. “My point is, you really shouldn’t be seeking the approval of these old codgers anyway. All of them are past their prime, half mad, and not worth your time nor effort.”

“Right, Uncle Frank,” Tessa nodded.

“You feeling any better?”

“Yes, Uncle Frank.”

Tessa wasn’t really listening. She didn’t even notice as Uncle Frank left. He’d given her the perfect idea. The perfect way to undo Brian Heed.

* * *

It had taken some doing, but she’d found it. As an avid fan, Tessa knew where all her uncle’s old hideouts were. The closest one was two miles away, hidden under an old hospital. The hospital wasn’t in operation anymore, but that secret floor was still there. Some technical skills with the lift and hey presto, she’d made it down. Down into the dusty remnants of long forgotten projects, where she found precisely what she’d been looking for.

Now she was sat outside the academic committee office again. The receptionist looked at her sceptically, never having seen anyone visit twice. Finally, her time came, the doors opened, and Tessa walked in.

“What do you want?” Everton groaned. Then he looked down over his monocle. “Wait. Weren’t you here the other day?”

“Yes, Mr Clark, I was,” Tessa answered.

“Well, why should we care?” Elizabeth Vault sighed.

“Because I have a new project that might interest you.”

“I hope it’s more interesting than the last one,” Myra Clips said snidely.

“Oh, it will be. Would you mind inviting your receptionist in here? I’ll need her to demonstrate,” Tessa said politely.

“What is this? What is this?” prattled Victor.

Crisper looked down with a gleam in his eye. “I’ll allow this.” He pressed a button on his desk. “Cynthia, could you come in here please?”

Behind Tessa, the doors opened and the receptionist entered. She looked terrified, struggling against the blinding spotlights.

“Yes, Mr Crisper?” she asked meekly.

Tessa didn’t wait. She pulled a small blue cube from her pocket, pointed it at Cynthia, and fired. In a second, Cynthia glowed blue and vanished. The cube’s glowing surface showed a tiny silhouette of her.

The committee sat in shock. Then, as Vault raised a hand to object, Tessa pressed another button and the cube glowed again. Cynthia was returned unharmed, but looked quite dizzy.

“That will be all, Cynthia,” Crisper dismissed her. Without a word, she toddled out.

“Alright, you five,” Tessa began, a manic grin on her face. “If this doesn’t impress you, nothing will. This is a Containment Cube, designed by me, and if you don’t give me the extra credit I want then you’re all going in here. Forever.”

This was a lie. Tessa hadn’t invented it. She’d stolen it from the forgotten lab. She also couldn’t go through with her threat. There was a reason Uncle Frank had abandoned it. The Cube only had a capacity of one and a time limit of twelve minutes. Intellitron had used it once to catch Justice Man, but it had failed while he was stuck in a tiny lift. Justice Man had pummelled him senseless.

“Well?” Tessa prompted. “You all want to go in the box?”

All five of the committee burst out laughing.

“Well, well, well. The girl does have some fire after all,” Myra praised.

“I’ll say,” Crisper agreed, giving Tessa a sleazy wink. She repressed her urge to vomit.

“Quite the little gadget? Quite the little gadget,” Victor agreed with himself.

“Still, of course, it won’t work,” Vault smiled.

“No,” Crisper agreed. With a gesture, a tiny bolt of fire shot from his finger and knocked the Cube from Tessa’s hand. She recoiled, now a little frightened.

“Hold on,” Everton interrupted. Everyone else fell silent. “Miss Kwells, if you’re trying these methods, you almost certainly know who we are. As such, it takes incredible gumption to try and threaten us. If you did indeed build this little device, then you may have a truly impressive project. Something like this could revolutionise the world of villainy. However, you would have to prove it. Prove your talents using this gadget and others like it.”

“And… how would I prove it?” Tessa asked, daring to interrupt.

“How does any villain prove anything? Through villainy. There’s a museum exhibit on the west side showing off the famed Stone of Stevenson. The five of us have been talking recently and found ourselves quite jealous of the museum curator having such a prize. Were we any younger, one or all of us would certainly try to steal it ourselves. So, you come back to us with the Stone of Stevenson, and we’ll give you what you want.”

“And I can get the place in the TECHAA rather than Brian Heed?”

“Miss Kwells, if you bring us the stone, we’ll make sure Brian’s project gets an F.”

* * *

Tessa wandered the halls of the college, not really paying attention to her surroundings. She had a lot to think about. Sure, using a stolen gadget to impress the committee was one thing, but stealing a famous artefact was quite another. It was being held in the West County Museum, one of the most secure locations in the city. Well… secure by museum standards anyway. Even so, it was a tough task. And did she really want to become a criminal just to get a pass?

Her thoughts were interrupted as she bumped into someone.

“Tessa? Watch where you’re going, girl,” said the obstacle. Tessa looked up and smiled. The woman before her was about her age, dark skinned, with frizzy black hair and a sturdy, full frame. Rather than be embarrassed to walk into her, Tessa was relieved to see her.

“Sorry, Jude,” Tessa sighed. “I was a million miles away.”

“The project keeping you busy?” Jude said with a charming smile.

“You could say that,” Tessa dodged. “How about you? Run any interesting stories recently?”

“Urgh, hardly. Last story I wrote was about that superhero, Judgement. Bleh.”

“Again? Though, what’s wrong with Judgement?”

“I don’t know. Super strength, flight, energy blasts. Everyone keeps saying they’re the next Justice Man. They’re such a goody-two-shoes though, right? And my editor is always asking for photos of her. I’d rather not think about it.” Jude shrugged. Then she looked at Tessa again. “You sure you’re alright, Tess?”

“Just stressed. Very stressed,” Tessa answered, struggling not to clench her teeth. “Hey, hypothetical for you. Say I had to do something really bad to beat Brian Heed. Like, I had to kill someone. Would you do it?”

“To beat Brian?” Jude stopped to think. “I don’t think I’d kill someone, but how much would I have to hurt them. Or could I just hurt Brian?”

“Unfortunately, no. What’s that thing you always say? ‘The hardest battles are the ones you can’t punch your way out of’?” she recited. Jude did say it strangely often.

“Sure, but…wait, Tess.” Jude was suddenly serious. “Are you thinking about bribing your teacher?”

“Oh, god no,” Tessa stressed. Or was she? “I’m just wondering how far you would go to stop that jerk Brian.”

“Okay, okay,” Jude calmed down. “I like to joke, Tess, but honestly I’m pretty straight edged. I couldn’t cheat to beat him. Not really. Not even to knock the smug smile off Brian’s face.”

“I shouldn’t be surprised,” Tessa accepted. “So, are you on your way to class?”

“Just meeting Ben. And speak of the devil.” Jude lit up as she set eyes on her boyfriend.

“Sorry, sorry I’m late,” Ben apologised. He was a scrawny young man with the complexion of a nocturnal librarian. Even so, there was an optimistic charm to him. “I was on my way here when there was a Judgement sighting!”

“Where?” Tessa asked. That was something she hadn’t considered. Superheroes.

“East side of campus. She landed, then vanished. Maybe there’s a crime being committed right here, right now,” Ben snort laughed with excitement.

“Oh, I doubt it,” Jude dismissed. “I think Judgement was just stopping off briefly, before going on her way.”

“Why would you say that?”

“Because this is a college, Ben.”

“Yeah. No super crime happens here,” Tessa stated. Wait, there were five super villains on the academic council. What the hell was she on about?

“Anyway, good to see you, babe,” Jude smiled and gave Ben a peck on the cheek. “I just needed to tell you I’m busy tonight. I’ll have to skip the movie.”

“Again?”

“Sorry, but I think a juicy article might be opening up. Corruption, theft, the whole nine yards. I’ve just got to be there. The greatest obstacles are the ones we can’t punch. We must report on them.”

“Alright,” Ben reluctantly accepted. “But we’re doing a creature double feature to make up for it next week.”

“It’s a date,” Jude smiled. “Now, I’ve got to fly. I mean… I’ve got to go. See you.” She gave Ben another kiss, then hurried away down the corridor.

“Always so busy,” Tessa commented. “Last Tuesday, we had plans to go to that new restaurant but she cancelled. Was she with you then, or….?”

“No. No idea where she was,” Ben shrugged. “Journalists, am I right? I’m still so proud though, every time I see an article written by Judith G. Mint.”

“Yeah. And honestly, it was a good thing we missed the restaurant. There was a super fight like three streets away. It would have ruined our meal.”

* * *

Two weeks to the deadline, Tessa made up her mind. She’d been unsure at first, unsure if she could actually be a criminal, until she saw Brian in the common area showing off his project to everyone. His evolution simulation was still on dinosaurs, but to put a spin on it, he’d made it simulate the evolution of an alien world. Everyone was transfixed by the alien dinosaurs, with only Tessa apparently realising he might as well be showing them science fiction, for all of its accuracy.

With her rage renewed, she came up with a plan. Meeting up with Jude and Ben, she convinced them to join her for a little vacation. They’d been working hard, Jude and Ben’s exams weren’t for a few weeks, and Tessa needed to blow off some steam. Her friends had been hesitant, but they soon came around. And so, using a family discount, Tessa booked them all a couple days at Intellitron Resorts.

Still, she didn’t want anyone finding out, so booked the trip under the fake name, Marge M. Mechanism, and didn’t worry her friends with the price. Not that she didn’t intend to also have fun.

Ben wanted to try every cocktail going and ride every ride. Meanwhile, Jude was planning a review of the resort, though was understandably hesitant on the cocktails. Intellitron Resorts tended to put mint in drinks, to reflect the cold machinery of Intellitron himself, and Jude had a mild but significant peppermint allergy. One sip and she’d break out in rashes, dizziness, and it would generally ruin her day.

For the first few hours, Tessa joined them. Riding the rollercoasters, watching the parades, and going to the re-enactments of famous super battles. The weather was pleasant, as the island’s volcano created a balmy humidity. It was just what they all needed to relax. Then, as they stopped for some drinks, Tessa set her plan in motion. She devised a division of fun, with the happy couple having some time alone, while she went to the legendarily unpopular “History of Villainy” ride, siting it as research for her project.

The ride was a relic back from Intellitron’s evil days, and was a slow historical lecture that played like an ego trip to the villain. In truth, it was built by his henchmen to please him. While Jude was reluctant to split up, wanting to spend time with her friend, Ben had been perfectly happy for some alone time. He planned to take Jude on the “Tunnel of Love” ride, unaware that the ride was actually an intense, unpleasant rollercoaster based on Intellitron’s feelings towards romance.

Once Tessa was out of sight, she slipped away towards the Volcano Tours. She paid her entry fee and headed in, then almost immediately snuck away into the employee area. Darting between the corridors, she eventually found an elevator. It required a code to operate, but it was easy enough to guess. Frank Intellitron’s birthday, a day that always caused a certain tension in the Kwells household.

The buttons for the lift detailed floors 1 – 5. Below that was labelled Basement, Storage, Lab, then Sub-Lab, and then Secret Sub-Lab. She hit the lowest button.

It took a solid ten minutes to descend to the Secret Sub-Lab, gentle elevator music warbling the whole way. When the doors opened, blue light flowed in. It was either blue bulbs, or the walls themselves were blue, but the entire lab was engulfed with a cobalt radiance. Various artefacts and machines were all locked in cases or sealed in glass chambers. Lifeless robots sat idle, guns sat dusty on racks, and hovering drones flew in small circles. One box just contained a swarm of bees with massive warning signs pinned all over it.

Tessa entered and began her search. If she was going to rob a museum, she’d need the gear to do it. But what to take? Doom Blaster? A bit violent. Wrecker Droid? No, she was trying to minimise damage. Invisitron 5000. No, she remembered hearing about its test subjects. They were never visible again.

She rounded a corner and stumbled across a sight which filled her with awe. A gigantic robot with a dozen arms, each weaponised and surrounding a central dome like a spider or a crab. She recognised it as Mr Intellitron’s first giant robot, once defeated and crushed by Justice Man himself. Still, it wasn’t what she was looking for.

Then she saw it.

It was a chrome coated gun, the engraved plaque reading Stun Cannon. Perfect. She reached forwards and pulled it from its plinth. It was surprisingly heavy and gently buzzing, but every sense told her this was what she wanted.

Ding!

Her reverie was broken as the lift arrived. The doors hissed opened and a man exited. He was in his early forties, old for a henchman, but was wearing the uniform of the resort staff. His hair was thinning and his skin was just starting to wrinkle, but there was a youthful vigour to his movements. He was also carrying some kind of energy weapon and grumbling. As he got closer, Tessa could make out a name badge that simply read “14”.

“If this is you again, Justice Man, I swear to god…” he grumbled. Then he spotted Tessa, standing out in the open. “What are you doing down here?”

“Umm… Just looking for my uncle. Have you seen him?” she tried to lie. 14 just raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, no. Tell me the truth, or I’m going to call him.”

“Wait! Please don’t,” she begged.

“Why are you here?”

“Okay. I’ll be straight with you,” she gave in. “I need to commit a robbery. I won’t tell you what or where or why, but I need some gear. Just a little something to make the job easier. And since my uncle was one of the best villains ever, I thought why not take advantage of that?”

14 sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Tessa…”

“I know, I’m putting you in a difficult position, but I wouldn’t be doing this if my entire future wasn’t on the line,” she pleaded.

“And me telling you ‘no’ wouldn’t stop you?” he asked, holstering his weapon.

“Not in the slightest. In fact, I’d be liable to knock you out and leg it.” She’d never hit anyone before but there was a first time for everything.

“Ha. Good luck,” 14 smiled. He looked her over. “I know you’re a smart girl, so you really wouldn’t be here if you had any other options,” he reasoned. “And the boss would kill me if anything happened to you out there. But,” He held up a finger, “I’m not letting you have any of the weaponry, or anything dangerous. Most of this stuff is decommissioned for a reason,” he said sternly, snatching the Stun Cannon from her grasp.

“I’m not looking to hurt anyone. Just get in and out.” She held up her now empty hands.

14 thought for a moment. “Come with me.”

He led her through to a small chamber, built like an isolation room. Tessa entered, where a device like a silver backpack sat on a pedestal. Without prompting, she walked over and picked it up.

“User detected,” a mechanical voice uttered. The backpack opened and a swarm of something emerged. Noiseless, but they swarmed like flies, swirling around her. She felt them on her skin, her hair, her clothes, and for a moment she froze in sheer terror. Then it stopped. When she opened her eyes, the backpack had mysteriously moved to her back and a blue suit had morphed around her like a second skin.

“The Nanosuit,” 14 explained. “It should keep you safe. It heals injuries, can function as stealth camo, and can morph to fit your needs.”

“Wow…” Tessa looked down. Then her brow furrowed. “Oh, thanks!” she jeered. “Of course the super tech has to be a sexy, skin-tight cat-suit, which frankly leaves very little to the imagination. Very little at all.” She suddenly felt outstandingly exposed. It really clung to every curve and she didn’t know where her clothes had gone.

“It’s intuitive. Responds to what you want.”

“Are you saying I wanted this?” she asked angrily. Then she stopped. The suit responded and was constructing armoured plates, turning the cat-suit into combat armour. “Ooo,” she cooed. The armour was azure-blue, suitably modest, and very agile. “Can it build weapons too?” she grinned.

“Just for self-defence, young lady,” 14 interrupted.

Tessa raised her hands to show she understood. As she did, the gauntlets over her forearms shifted, the fingers becoming sharp as blades. She gave them a few test swings and then mentally commanded them to return to normal. They did. She smiled broadly.

“Wait.” She caught her reflection in a shiny surface. “I’m going to need a mask or something.”

The suit responded, the material stretching up to her chin and producing two plates as a mouth guard. It wasn’t much of a disguise though, still pretty recognisable with her hair and face and everything. The suit responded and she felt a tingle across her scalp. It was like the flies again. She turned and looked at her reflection to watch her hair changing. It was turning grey and being shaped into jagged zigzags, just like Uncle Frank’s.

“So that’s how he does it…” she muttered. “Can I turn back?” she asked 14.

“Yep. Just think about it.”

She did, and watched her as reflection changed again. Her hair returned to its natural red and the suit vanished, replaced seamlessly with her original clothes. All the armour vanished into the ether and all the Nanosuit materials were sucked back into the backpack. She tried not to think about whether her clothes were technically the originals or if this was a Ship of Theseus situation. She instead turned to 14.

“Why are you doing this for me?”

“As I said, the boss would kill me if something happened to you,” he shrugged.

“But you don’t even know me. You’re just… a henchman.”

“I know enough,” 14 said with a keen eye. “You’ve had a few birthdays here, Tessa. You were one of the first when we officially opened as a non-evil resort. Plus, Intellitron keeps a photo of you on his desk. He’s so proud of you. I’ve worked for him for a long time, and before he retired, he only ever smiled when he was talking about you. That or when he was briefly winning.”

“Aww,” Tessa said, her heart aglow.

“But, let’s get some things straight.” He pointed a stern finger. “First, you’re bringing that armour back when you’re done. The boss does inventory on this place regularly. Second, if he asks, you stole that by yourself. Third, if he asks me, I’m going to have to tell him everything. I can’t risk lying to him.”

“What would he do if you lied to him?” Tessa asked, suddenly a little worried.

“He could fire me!” 14 said, sounding genuinely terrified. “And what am I going to do then? Who’s going to hire a 15 year duty henchmen, out on his luck, with more knocks and bruises to his name than an average fight club?”

Tessa smiled. “Maybe if I ever need a henchman, I’ll look you up.”

“I’d honestly enjoy that,” 14 nodded, almost surprised to be saying it. “I’d take fighting superheroes over picky customers any day.”

* * *

The rest of the vacation went well, with Tessa letting her hair down and relaxing. On the outside anyway. Inside, she was planning. Every free moment, she researched the museum and its weaknesses. She even got chatting with a few resort staff, all former henchmen, on tips and tricks of the trade. Then finally, when the fun was over, Tessa, Jude and Ben all headed back to the mainland, and back to their college campus.

And Tessa prepared for her heist.

* * *

The night eventually came, and Tessa got to work.

Getting into the museum went off without a hitch, just walking up and disguising herself in her nanosuit once she was on the grounds. She’d also designed a device, which the nanobots constructed, which she fed it into the power systems to disable all exterior alarms. The walls proved no problem either, the nanosuit turning her hands into claws, she clambered up the outside, in through a skylight, and crawled along the ceiling. None of the cameras were aimed upwards, so she was free to move and disconnect them from above. Finally, she was in the room with the Stone of Stevenson. It was an unremarkable chunk of granite with a few words carved into one face, housed in a glass case on a plinth. Security lasers surrounded it on four sides and she knew from her research that the plinth was rigged with pressure plates to alert at any change in weight.

So she dropped straight down from above, down the middle of the cage of lasers, and plucked the entire plinth from the ground with suit-enhanced super strength. The plinth rose and all its wires snapped with an obliging fizzle. With the security disabled, she cut open the case with a sharpened finger and took out the stone.

That was when a guard walked in.

He paused. She froze. He was just a night watchman, holding a torch. She was in full supervillain garb, grey lightning hair and armour, and holding the Stone of Stevenson. But she didn’t know what to do.

The guard did though. He sprinted, slapped a button on the wall, and suddenly alarms were blaring. Tessa cursed herself. No more need for stealth, she pulled a Containment Cube from her belt, stored the Stone of Stevenson inside, and got moving. She then raised a hand, fired a grappling line, and jumped to the ceiling again, where she formed a gauntlet into a drill and tunnelled her way back out.

The night air was crisp and cold and the view of the city from the museum roof was spectacular. However, Tessa was too busy to enjoy it, as she desperately fled the scene. Sounds of guards swarmed below. She ran to the edge of the rooftop and formed a jetpack using plans she’d uploaded to the nanobots. They worked fast and by the time she leapt from the roof, the thrusters were finished and she flew out across the city with a rocketing whoosh!

The wind rushed against her skin. The cold was blistering, but thrilling all the same. She had to resist crying out into the night in joy. This was fun! And she’d gotten away, and there was no way anyone was tracking her now.

That was when something hit her. Something hard.

She wasn’t sure what it was, but it knocked her off balance. Her thrusters spiralled and she was sent hurtling towards the city below. Aiming herself, she just managed to fall towards the roof of a block of flats. Then the thrusters kicked in and span her so she landed uncomfortably, but safely, on her rear.

“Ow,” Tessa complained, rubbing her butt, “but it could have been worse.”

“It’s about to be worse!” a triumphant voice shouted.

A figure leapt across several rooftops, then landed without even disturbing the rooftop gravel. It was a woman, stood tall and proud. She had dark skin, slicked back black hair, and had a full, sturdy figure, plump full lips, with muscles to die for. Gorgeous by Tessa’s standards, though the attraction caught her by surprise. Maybe it was the adrenaline.

Whatever she was feeling, it was lessened by the outfit. A black spandex bodysuit with yellow accents. A logo of a set of scales printed across her chest. There was even a small eye mask concealing only a fraction of her face.

She was a superhero. Oh crap.

“Stop, you vile villain!” the hero proclaimed.

“And who are you supposed to be?” Tessa asked, stumbling to her feet.

“I am the warrior of truth and justice. I am Judgement!”

Judgement! Oh, double crap.

“Look, there’s no need for a fight here, Judgment,” Tessa tried not to beg. “Can I call you Judgement?”

“You can call me your doom, you treacherous thief. Where is the Stone of Stevenson?” She glanced up and down Tessa’s figure, trying to hide her confusion that the stone wasn’t there.

Tessa pretended to look for it. “Oh, would you look at that. I must have dropped it.” For all her skills, Tessa was not an actor. Even she could hear how stilted it sounded. “Wait, hold on! Was that you who knocked me out of the air? You could have killed me, you cretin!”

Was Judgement a hero who killed villains? Or was she one who just took them to jail? Tessa couldn’t remember.

“My strike was calculated, and I didn’t see you drop anything. Now give me the stone and I’ll make your trip to jail minimally painful.”

Tessa heard the word jail. An icy dread froze her stomach. She couldn’t go to prison.

“Nope!” she blurted, turned and ran. She had intended to fly away, but one thruster was damaged and fired before the others. She tried to compensate but failed. Instead she just span a cartwheel in the air and fell back to the roof in a pile.

“Ha! That was pathetic!” Judgement judged, striding closer. “Look, how about this? You give me the stone, I tell the police that you cooperated. Might cut down your sentence from fifteen years to ten. It’s the best offer you’re going to get.”

“Says you,” Tessa answered, spitting out some gravel.

“What do you even want with some old relic anyway? I’ve checked and it doesn’t have any magical powers or anything. It’s just some old rock from another country.”

“A holy relic stolen from another country,” Tessa argued.

“Hey, that’s colonialism for you. That kind of politics is above my paygrade. Not that I get paid for this.”

“Then why does it matter to you? Why stop me?” Tessa pulled herself back to her feet. She needed a plan.

“You broke the law. Simple as that. You’re guilty, and I judge you as such.” She gestured to the Scales of Justice depicted on her outfit.

“And who put you in charge?”

“Well, the police can’t stop people like you, can they?” she stated. “Besides, you still stole it. What right do you have to be above the law?”

“Oh, shut up,” Tessa dismissed. This was getting sanctimonious and she just wanted to escape.

“No, really, what’s making you do this? Is it money? Power?”

“What? No!” Tessa was almost offended.

“Is it influence? Ego? Do you just have to prove you’re the best?”

“No!” That last part hurt a little. It was slightly true.

“Then what? Why steal some ancient chunk of rock? Did the museum curator kill your family or something?”

Tessa stared at her. “…What are you on about?”

“Then why? Did you lose something? Did you fail? What did you fail to be driven to this?”

“My exams!” Tessa blurted. The interrogation had been getting fraught and she just wanted her to shut up.

“What?” Judgement processed what was said. “You’re doing this because you failed an exam?”

“Well, I wouldn’t say failed. I got an A-.”

“And this will solve everything? Stealing this relic?” Judgement asked genuinely.

“Without it my entire future slips away. All because of stupid academia and one stupid jerk. This is my only hope, and you aren’t going to stop me, Judgment. I’ll do anything to get past you, so get out of my way.”

The conversation had gotten strangely real, Tessa noted. Judgement looked saddened, but sympathetic. Meanwhile the weight of it finally hit Tessa. This was all or nothing for her. Like a mouse backed into a corner by a cat. And Judgement knew that.

“Look, whoever you are, I still can’t let you leave with that stone. There are always other ways out of situations like this. So please, just hand it over and you can walk away. Because you can’t fight your way out of this. The hardest battles are the ones you can’t punch your way out of.”

Wait, what?

Tessa froze as reality imploded for her. It was like looking at a magic eye picture and suddenly seeing the image. It hit her like a truck how little was actually hidden by Judgment’s mask and outfit. And yet only now could she see it. The skin, the hair, the facial features, the body.

It was Jude!

Her mind frenzied. She didn’t know what to do. A thousand thoughts vied for attention. How Jude’s strange behaviour and disappearances suddenly made sense. How she always had the inside scoop on superhero events. That time she had been in a collapsing building and somehow emerged unharmed. How Tessa had found Judgement so attractive! Did she have a crush on her best friend? These were all thoughts for later.

For now, she just had to find a way out of this without revealing herself.

“Sorry, but I can’t. I need this stone,” Tessa apologised, subconsciously lowering the tone of her voice to hide it. The nanobots picked up on her anxiety and added a robotic reverb.

“So be it,” Judgement shrugged. She attacked.

In a single step, Judgment was on her. The first punch hit Tessa in the jaw and sent her sprawling. She thudded into the edge of the roof, dazed and dizzy. She could feel her jaw buzzing as the nanobots fixed any damage. But it still hurt. It really bloody hurt!

Suddenly, Tessa’s blood was up. Her friend had just punched her and now she was mad. Sure, Jude didn’t know it was her, but Tessa didn’t care. Brian Heed couldn’t stop her, the committee couldn’t stop her, now neither could Jude. It was time to fight back.

Activating her thrusters, she launched herself at Judgement, punching her in the chin. She threw a right hook, then a left, then another right. Tessa had taken boxing once for a summer alongside ballet. Even so, she was punching a superhero. Judgement’s head barely moved.

Oh crap, Tessa swore to herself, as Judgement raised her fist.

Another punch, this one to the chest, and Tessa thudded to the floor. It hit her armour but she still felt the nanobots buzzing behind the plating, mending ribs. Jude was strong. Really strong. Tessa struggled back to her feet, a little wobbly, as the hero cockily watched her.

“Had enough?” she smiled.

“Not yet,” Tessa hissed. She had to think. How did Intellitron ever beat Justice Man? Well, he didn’t, did he? That sent her heart into her stomach. But how could Intellitron beat Justice Man. Brains vs brawn? Uncle Frank would outsmart him.

Judgement just shook her head disappointedly, then swung her fist. Tessa raised her arms to shield herself, taking the next blow to her gauntlets, and the next. Jude was clearly toying with her, but that was her mistake. With her forth punch, Tessa channelled several thousand vaults through her gauntlets. Jude’s fist landed and her entire body flashed with lightning.

“OW!” the hero recoiled.

“Amateur. Your gloves aren’t even shock proof,” Tessa grinned. She launched a barrage of sharp jabs, each one delivering a payload of electricity. She was careful with the voltage, worried she might actually hurt Jude. In actuality, it was likely too low from the start. While the blows stunned her, the hero was recovering quickly.

She caught one of Tessa’s fists.

Judgement stared daggers. Tessa struggled to escape, and not to do anything embarrassing out of fear. The hand was like a vice. And under her fist, Judgement’s palm began to glow.

Oh, right. Judgement can fire energy blasts, Tessa reminded herself.

The blast released and hit Tessa like a hammer. It sent her flying. She cleared the edge of the roof, cleared the alley, and then cleared the next two buildings. When she landed she was a couple of blocks away and lying in a rooftop flowerbed, the nanomachines buzzing all over her body. Her arm especially hurt, like she’d punched a wall at high speed.

She needed a plan. Judgement would be on her any moment, and she was a novice supervillain at best. She needed an edge. She needed Judgement’s weakness.

A metaphorical bulb lit up over her head.

Sure, she didn’t know Judgment, but she knew Jude’s weakness. Peppermints. She was allergic. It was a mild allergy, sure, but it should be enough to stop her. Even as she thought, the nanosuit crept out into the flowerbed and consumed any of its regular mint for a base. But Tessa also had to explain why she was spraying her opponent with peppermint.

Judgment landed on the roof, her features creased with annoyance. She was done playing. Tessa stood before her, wearing a fake smile. She needed to stall. But with that surge of adrenaline, an idea took form. She stuck out a hand and an array of harmless lasers shot out, cascading over the hero. Judgement flinched, and looked confused. They’d done nothing. The lasers stopped and beeped like a barcode scanner.

“Hahaha,” Tessa laughed theatrically. “And my scan is complete. Now I have a complete analysis of you, Judgement.”

“Pardon?” Judgement paused.

“Oh, yes. My technology has made a complete assessment.” A small screen slotted down over Tessa’s eye, displaying meaningless information. “You’re strong, can create energy blasts and fly. You’re not indestructible, but you’re tough. Also, it looks like you have a genetic abnormality that reacts negatively with Mentha balsamea.”

“Mentha what?”

“Peppermint!” she proclaimed and sprayed the synthetic peppermint her suit had finished.

The spray hit Judgement. She leapt back, but the mist clung to her. She swatted at the cloud around her, then it dispersed and she fell to her knees.

For a moment, Tessa worried she had overdone it. It was a mean thing to do, but needs must. Fortunately, Judgement started to move. And glow. Her skin changed from its usual coffee-black to a dull orange. Then to yellow. Jude stood up, her eyes glowing white and her skin shining like purest gold.

Tessa backed away slowly.

“I think your machine made a mistake, you vile villain,” Judgement announced, her voice now echoing ethereally. “Peppermint doesn’t hurt me. It just makes me lose control of my powers. It’ll also make me sick as a dog in about twelve hours, so thanks in advance for that,” she snarled. “But please, I don’t want to be rude. I’ll show you the wonderful power you’ve let loose.”

Judgement charged.

* * *

Tessa awoke about nineteen seconds later. She was on another completely new rooftop, her entire body hurt, and the nanobots were working overtime to fix her injuries. There was a massive dent in her chest plate and she was pretty sure her hair was scorched. She could see Judgement flying after her, glowing like the sun, but Tessa was out of tricks. She might have to fight this properly. She tried to command her suit to make an anti-peppermint compound, but the suit was too busy fixing her bones. She swallowed nervously. This would be the most difficult fight of her life... It would also be her first.

Judgement landed and marched forwards. Every step, her golden form scorched the ground and left blackened footprints behind her. Tessa got to her feet, which only made Judgement smile. Tessa couldn’t smile. She was scared. Really scared.

“Stop right there, young lady!” a voice yelled from above. As they both looked up, a metal platform descended. On the platform was a blue skinned man with a bionic eye, wearing full cerulean robes, and a look of absolute annoyance on his face.

If anything, Tessa was even more scared of him.

“Mr Intellitron!” Judgement exclaimed.

“You, butt out of this. This is between me and her,” Intellitron dismissed the hero, stepping off the platform and marching towards Tessa. “Hello there, M. M. Mechanism,” he said mockingly. “14 told me everything.”

“Okay, look, I can explain.” Tessa put up her hands as if she were praying.

“Can you?”

“So you’re behind this!” Judgement realised wrongly. “I knew we couldn’t trust a villain like you, Mr Intellitron.”

“I said, butt out!” Uncle Frank growled back. “I’m still retired, I just need to deal with this. Run along. I’d like to talk to her alone.”

“Not on your life. I can finally do what Justice Man never could, and put you away for good.” Judgement hovered, aiming her body threateningly.

“For god’s sake…” Intellitron grumbled, then looked Judgement square in the face. “Hey! Watch the birdy!” He pointed to his robot eye. It glowed blue as Judgement looked on in confusion.

“What are you-” she began, then a beam fired and froze her to the spot, a glowing aura holding her in mid-air.

“Tsch. Call yourself a hero? Even Justice Man would never have fallen for that,” Intellitron critiqued. “These young bloods need to learn.”

“Does Mum know you had that in your head during dinner?” Tessa asked.

“There’s a lot of things your mother doesn’t know.” He rounded sternly on her. “You said you could explain?”

“Yes… Where to start?”

“Let’s start with what, then why, then we go from there,” he pre-empted. “So, what did you steal?”

“The Stone of Stevenson…”

“And where is it?”

“In here.” She held up the Containment Cube.

He nodded. “So it hasn’t been gone long. Twelve minutes, if I remember correctly.”

“Actually, it’s been longer. While testing the cube, I discovered that with a few modifications it could store inanimate objects for almost eight hours,” Tessa explained, turning the cube in her hand.

“What do you mean?” Uncle Frank asked, some of his sternness fading into curiosity.

“Well, a small change to the energy frequency and it becomes a lot more stable. However, the change means it can’t contain anything organic safely. Specifically anything alive. The results are a bit unpleasant. I tested it on a houseplant and it came back inside out.”

“Huh.” Intellitron stared at the cube. “I’d never considered just using it for storage.” Then he got back on track, his annoyance resumed. “I’m assuming you’re stealing it for someone else? My guess is the academic committee.”

“Got it in one, Uncle Frank.”

“Why do they want it?”

“Jealousy? Boredom? Who knows?” she shrugged.

“And yet you’re getting yourself beaten up to steal it.” He shook his head.

“Hey, it’s not like the museum deserves it anyway,” Tessa argued. “They stole it from its indigenous people 200 years ago, and now it’s just on display. I did my research to make sure I wasn’t hurting anyone innocent.”

“And the committee will give it back?” he doubted

“No, but I think it’s better than nothing. It’ll defame the people who stole it by showing how they can’t protect their property. I know it isn’t perfect, but I just couldn’t miss my chance. Not with Brian ruining my life.”

“I see,” Intellitron thought for a moment, his sternness faded. “Zapper, I’m going to ask you a serious question here. Are you really doing this for the TECHAA, or are you doing this just to beat Brian Heed?”

Tessa considered it, then pouted a little. “I can be doing it for both reasons.”

“And this TECHAA thing is really worth all this? And taking down Brian?”

“Honestly, it’s all that I live for at the moment. Victory and revenge.”

Intellitron shook his head again. “Headstrong, obsessive, selfish,” he judged. “God I miss those heady days,” he sighed nostalgically.

“Pardon?”

He smiled. “I get it. Sometimes you need to be a bit hard headed, don’t you? Refuse to give in. Never relent. Some days you have to be so driven it hurts. And yes, sometimes you have to be a bit selfish. Do something for you, even if it isn’t the best for everyone else. I remember why I became a villain. I thought the world would be better under my rule. That I alone could fix all the world’s problems. I was wrong, of course, but all that started from that one selfish idea.”

“I thought it was because you got denied for a bank loan because you were blue,” Tessa remembered. She’d been told this story before.

“Well, yes. That too. I wanted money for an invention. They said no, so I robbed the bank that denied me. Okay, petty at the time, but it made me understand the corruption in economics. The inequality of opportunities. It made me fight back. If I hadn’t, I’d still be a bricklayer like your grandfather, god rest him.”

“Okay?” Tessa said cautiously. She wasn’t sure where this was going anymore.

“But now look at you! You’re going toe to toe with a super. You’re doing your research and making your moral judgments. You’re refusing to accept the world’s unfairness, even if the law wouldn’t agree. My only complaint is that you stole my tech to do it, but even then…” He couldn’t help but grin.

“You’re not mad?”

“Of course I’m mad,” he continued, still smiling. “Your mother would be livid if she ever saw you like this. And there’s no way she’d believe I wasn’t responsible. She’d never speak to me again. But, by fate or by function, you’re following in my footsteps.”

Tessa looked down at herself. Azure armour, grey lightning hair, a general use of gadgets. She did look like a knock-off Mr Intellitron.

“You always were my role model,” she justified. “You’re the reason I worked so hard. I wanted to be as clever as you.”

Intellitron smirked. “You know, your mother would say villains make terrible role models. And for the most part, she’d be right. Criminals, tyrants and self-centred jerks, the lot of them. But at the core of it all is a desire for change. Sure, for most of them it’s change that puts them on top, but it’s change nonetheless. Heroes just enforce the rules. Yes, they save people, but they don’t fix the problems. They won’t change the laws to help the oppressed. No, they’ll just beat up that oppressed person when they’re forced to steal to survive. Well… some of them anyway,” he conceded. “Overall, they just enforce the status quo. But I always saw the need to change the status quo. To try and fix the unfairness of the world, even if I had to do it by force.”

He paused, a nostalgic look washing over his face.

“Justice Man used to say to me, ‘The world ill needs a saviour such as you’. My response was always ‘I don’t see anyone else doing any better’. And now here you are, your future at stake, and you fight back against it. Doing anything to make your dreams come true.” His anger was gone and he beamed, looking her in the eye. “I’m so proud of you, Tessa.”

“Thanks, Uncle Frank,” Tessa blushed.

“Now, what do we do with her?” Intellitron turned to look at Judgement, still frozen nearby and still glowing yellow. Tessa suddenly remembered the hero was there. “This is Judgement, right?”

“That’s her, Uncle Frank. Will she be alright?”

“Basic stasis field. She’ll wake up feeling no time has passed.”

“Good. Because it turns out she’s my best friend from school.”

“Really?” Intellitron said curiously. He thought for a second. “That girl Jude you’re always talking about?”

Oh god! She was always talking about her! Maybe it really was a crush!

“Um…yes,” Tessa said embarrassingly.

“The world is peculiar,” Intellitron admired. “You know, one of my first heroes turned out to be your mother’s hair stylist?”

“Huh… That must have been a let-down.”

“Hardly. He was a demon with those scissors,” Intellitron recalled. “You see all this?” he gestured to his grey lightning hair and beard.

“Yes?”

“This is all natural. Your mother has it too, her stylist just cuts and dyes it with such fury it’ll never spring back. That’s the man I fought… And, don’t let on to your mother I told you that. She’d kill me.”

“I’m just sad I missed out on that gene.”

“Perhaps. It does look good on you,” he admired her disguised hair.

“So, Judgement?” Tessa got them back on track.

“She’ll wake up in an hour and we’ll be gone. Does she know who you are?”

“Don’t think so.”

“Good. That can get messy. You’re giving the Stone of Stevenson to the committee?”

“I can’t miss my chance. Besides, a few plans are forming on that front.”

“That’s my girl,” he smiled again. “And is this villainy going to be a onetime thing or an ongoing project?”

“I’m not going full time,” she dismissed. Then she thought. “But then again… it could be useful. It really would put Brian in his place if I robbed him. He’s a trust fund brat and I’ll need capital for my research.”

Uncle Frank chuckled. “People like that sometimes need reminding they’re not invincible. In that case, I guess I’ll leave you with the Nanosuit. Might as well. The cat-suit look never suited me.”

“Thanks, Uncle Frank. I’ll be careful with it.”

“And call me if you ever need anything. For the time being, you can use my lab if necessary, but I’ll give you the number for a guy who can get you your own lair. Cosmo works wonders.”

“Um… Thanks, Uncle Frank,” she said a little less assuredly.

* * *

The next day, Tessa stood before the committee. They all waited until the doors were closed, as Everton Clark looked down with a leering smile.

“Do you have it?”

“I do,” Tessa answered. She pulled out the Containment Cube and pointed it, materialising the Stone of Stevenson on Everton’s desk. The five of them all stared at the dull hunk of rock as if it were a diamond.

“Suitably banal,” Everton admired. “Now, you can be off.”

“Not without my reward. I was thinking a full star grade for me, while you drop Brian down to a B+. It’s low enough that he won’t get the placement, but high enough that no one will feel sorry for him.”

“A suitably cruel retribution, but we have the stone now. You don’t have anything else to offer. It’s a rookie mistake,” Everton grinned maliciously. Around the desk, all the other members began to chuckle.

“You’re really going for the old backstab?” Tessa said incredulously. She’d expected it, but still…

“Well what are you going to do about it? Report us?” Crisper laughed. The others joined in.

Tessa stared up at them, waiting for them to stop. When they didn’t, she raised a hand and her pinkie ring sent a bolt of energy whizzing past Elizabeth Vault’s ear. The laughing stopped, with them honestly more annoyed by the hole in the wall than the danger.

“You really think I didn’t come prepared?” she smirked. “I’m a villain now, and I have the weapons to fight all five of you. So try it, why don’t you?”

“You little…”

“Or maybe I should just tell my Uncle Frank. Then you’d be in trouble.” She inspected her nails condescendingly.

“Why would we ever be scared of your Uncle Frank?”

“You know him, don’t you? I know at least one of you does. Frank Intellitron.”

All their faces fell.

“I’m sure he’d love to hear how you’ve been picking on his favourite niece.”

They all turned pale, even Crisper with his ridiculous tan.

“Now, about my grades?” Tessa grinned.

* * *

That afternoon, Tessa walked through the college green, her heart alight with success. Across the campus she noticed a crowd surrounding the music hall, a deep and frenzied wailing coming from within. No one outside appeared worried. The reactions ranged from curious people trying to see what was happening, and people irritably waiting for it to stop.

She walked past, heading out onto the veranda where Jude was waiting.

“Hey, Jude. How are… Oh my!” Tessa stopped. Jude didn’t look well. She was sniffling with a runny nose, occasionally coughing, and her skin was a jaundiced yellow above her usual tone. She blew her nose loudly into a hanky.

“Hey, Tess,” she said, her nose bunged up.

“What happened to you?”

“Oh, all this?” Jude gestured to her whole head. “Allergies. Someone blew one of those vape pens in my face and it was laced with peppermint. Been fighting the damn symptoms since yesterday.” She snorted again, clearing her nose.

“Oh...” Tessa felt a little spike of guilt. “Maybe I can use chemistry to make you an antihistamine or something.”

“Don’t worry, Tessa. It’ll pass.”

From behind, the wailing in the music hall grew louder, then faded again. Tessa turned and briefly saw Brian Heed sprinting away in tears.

“What’s going on there?” she pointed.

“Oh, you didn’t hear?” Jude blew her nose again. “Brian decided to hand in his project early, just to be the smuggest he could be. But it turns out alien dinosaurs aren’t scientific fact. They said it was just meaningless sci-fi and a betrayal of the original concept. But they still accepted his submission and graded him at a B.”

Tessa tried to be humble, she sincerely did. She failed utterly.

“Oh nooooooo…” she grinned.

“No need to pretend, Tess,” Jude stopped her with a similar grin. Then she sneezed into her hanky, groaning at the discomfort of it. “Urgh, I hope this clears up soon.”

“Hey guys!” called Ben, running up to the pair. He headed up to kiss Jude, only to recoil from her snot.

“Sorry, honey. No kissing today,” Jude groaned.

“That’s fine with me.” Ben stepped back. “Anyway, did you hear, Tess? There was a huge superhero fight last night!”

“Oh?” Tessa tried to look innocent.

“I tried to call you? Thought it would be good for your documentary. Where were you?”

“Busy. I was visiting my uncle.”

“Well, listen to this,” he said excitably, pulling out his phone and reading the article aloud.

Last night, Hero City was shaken by a robbery at the West County Museum for Art and History. The theft resulted in the loss of a famed antiquity, The Stone of Stevenson, a disputed artefact that has been the subject of multiple protests and debates. However, it was not the theft itself that caused such an uproar, but the emergence of yet another villain onto our streets.

As described by a museum security guard, the villain was female and used various gadgetry to slip in and out of the museum almost undetected, only spotted by one patrolling guard. The villain, identified by local superhero Judgement as Madame Mechanism-

So that name’s going to stick, Tessa thought to herself.

-is described as being six foot with a lithe and impressive combat suit. She has grey, lightning hair, but this fails to distract from her firm and shapely figure. While no people were directly harmed, she is considered to be armed and dangerous, no matter how alluring she might be. However, many readers will find the description of “Grey Lightning Hair” familiar, as a key feature of former villain and resort owner, Mr Intellitron. According to Judgement, Intellitron was sighted that night conflicting with Madame Mechanism. When questioned over his involvement, Intellitron had this to say.

“This new villain is clearly an upstart, and has taken to likening herself to me. But, even so, she is formidable. She managed to infiltrate my own labs and steal an archived and unfinished project, and then completed the design herself. Imagine that! I think the world should be ready for this new villain’s rise to prominence.”

Speculation continues to churn concerning a connection between Intellitron and Mechanism, but as of yet no further proof has been established. Judgement was reported to have attempted to apprehend Madame Mechanism, but failed due to Intellitron’s interference, or so the hero says.

As of yet, The Stone of Stevenson has not been located, nor the reason for its theft. And now yet another villain has risen. Watch out citizens of Hero City! Madame Mechanism is on the loose.

“What do you think? Isn’t that the coolest? Have you ever heard anything like it?” Ben said excitedly.

Jude just raised an eyebrow. “Yes, Ben. I wrote it,” she said flatly, sniffing again. “What else was I going to do, laid up in bed all night, unable to sleep? I had to pay someone over the phone to get me that Intellitron interview.”

“…I was more talking to Tessa there,” Ben deflated. Then he eyed Jude again, and the state of her. “Let’s get you home and back into bed. You look like you need it.”

“Sure… I don’t deserve you.”

“Well, you have me. So there,” Ben teased.

“For how long?”

“Forever. Didn’t you know? College romances always stand the test of time.”

Jude smiled through her snot.

“Hey, did you say the Stone of Stevenson was stolen?” Tessa refocused the conversation.

“Yes?” Jude nodded.

“Oh, man,” Tessa complained. “I was planning to go and see that.” Of course, that was a lie.

Ben looked puzzled. “Why? It sounds so dull.”

“It has some fascinating history,” Tessa said promptly “It was stolen ages ago by settlers from its native people, and now it’s being held in the museum… Well, it was. In all honesty, it’s just a rock, but a rock with cultural significance. There are laws in place, that should it ever make it back to its homeland, then it automatically becomes their property again, no questions asked. Some hero could send it back and legally everyone would be in the clear. It’s a fascinating prospect.”

Ben kept his puzzled look. “How do you know all that?”

“Everton Clark,” Tessa sighed, displaying pretend boredom. “He rambled on and on about it this morning. All I wanted to do was talk about my project, but he had a replica of the stone on his coffee table and kept talking about how much he hated the museum owner.” She performatively quirked an eyebrow. “Though, now that I think about it, I do find that strange. I wouldn’t have thought they’d make replicas of something that dull.”

“It does seem unusual,” Ben agreed.

“And now the real stone’s been stolen.” Tessa watched Jude as she drip fed the information. “You know, it’s funny. When I was researching for my documentary, I had a theory that Everton Clark was actually the villain, Bank Breaker. I could never prove it though. What do you think, Jude?”

Finally the pieces fell and a look of revelation crossed Jude’s face.

“Yes,” she said, hiding her revelation. “And he knows all about this stone, doesn’t he? Maybe I should interview him? A private interview to get the truth.”

“You should do that,” Tessa agreed. “You should definitely do that.”

Tessa smiled. Bank Breaker was getting a visit from Judgement, Brian was ruined, and she’d survived a superhero fight.

She couldn’t have been happier.

#writeblr #writing #lamura dex writes!#writing community #writers on tumblr #comedy #superheroes #short story #short stories #Tales of Hero City #06 #Madame Mechanism #Judgment #Mr Intellitron #Henchman 14 #looking for readers #please?

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away-ward · 8 months ago

Note

I'm so curious about your favourite books (dark romance and otherwise) outside of the devils night series? Are there any other dark romance series that have stood out to you like devil's night? Any standalone that you liked?

Hey!! I wish I had something for you; a long list of recs that we all lose our minds over. That’s the best part of reading and fandoms is the community.

Unfortunately, I don't really.

Devil’s Night caught me at a weird time, when I was going through something. I read a lot of dark romance fanfics when I was an unsupervised teenager with unlimited internet access, and sort of got over it after a while. After I finished DN, I still had time left on my KU subscription, so I tore through a bunch of what was offered. None of it sticks out now, and it’s been a few years since then.

But for you, I went through my old kindle account. These are in no particular order, just as I found familiar names that I've read various series/books from:

Monica Murphy LJ Shen S. Massery Elle Kennedy Saffron A. Kent Callie Hart Sav R. Miller Selena

There's probably a few others that I didn't find, and several authors that I tried but ultimately didn't like anything I picked up enough to finish. I hope that helps, however vague it is.

There is one series that still comes back to me from that time, other than DN. I’ve spoken about it before, but it’s the Crown Pointe series. I would technically call it a dark romance, because of it’s tropes, but I know much darker things are published daily on KU.

Heartless Hero and Stolen Soulmate are great, and I honestly wish that DN’s writing and plot development were similar to Crown Pointe. CP, in general, uses its pages and time to serve the plot and characters better than DN, in my opinion. In CP, after every interaction between the main characters, I knew something had changed or progressed in some way. Even the sex served to change the dynamics, either to the reader or the characters, which made it feel more useful to the story, rather than just shoved in because it’s what’s expected.

(as a bonus point, the couple in Stolen Soulmate is interracial. I know some people were complaining about that with DN.)

The thing that CP lacks that DN has is an interesting cast of characters. I like the main characters for each book well enough. There were some minor characters I would like to get to know better. There were plans for those characters to get their own books, but they were never published for some reason. As you can probably tell, because my conversations about DN usually circle around character relationships and dynamics, interesting characters and plot are more important to me than the overall romance.

I’m currently reading A Walk to Remember. A friend said that the ending is different than the movie. I think it’s probably just their interpretation. Still, I’m reading to find out if I feel the same. So far, I much prefer the movie to the book. The updated setting, the changes made to the characters, and how they interact and progress are more engaging and, honestly, make more sense. As it is, the movie took the basic premise and characters names. But we’ll see. Maybe my thoughts will change. It’s my first Nicolas Sparks and I think it’ll probably be my last.

A few weeks ago, I finished a re-read of Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood. I was once again struck by how successfully the author was able to convince me of the close, lifelong friendship between the four girls, while keeping the focus on Vivi, and her eldest daughter, Sidda, front and center. The movie doesn’t do it justice. Last year sometime, an anon that went by Z asked for stories that featured female friendships, and I still hold this one up as a good example.

Below is a scene that made me want to read the first time the Horsemen were arrested. Was Will excited? Kai stressed? Damon annoyed? Did their dad's fight in the Thunder Bay police station lobby? Was Martin just a baby cop?? Give me all the moments.

But I'm also really fond of this scene on its own.

Don’t know what I am going to read next. I’ve debated before about whether I should post more about what I’m reading or watching. I know that the followers I have are here for DN stuff, though I never meant to limit it to that. As the DN fandom goes quiet on tumblr, I question whether it’s a good time to archive this blog, and leave it as it is. I’d keep it active, but only as a collection of Devil’s Night stuff. Or if I should divert to other topics as I go.

Since you’re following for a reason, I’ll ask you. Keep in mind, if I really wanted to spend the time building a new blog for what I'm reading, I will. It's not a huge deal.

Thanks for reading this far. I know it went way of track, as I usually do. I love talking, after all.

And I appreciate the question, even if my answer isn't much of an answer.

#asked and answered 335 #asked and answered #ko's book tag #ko's fandom tag

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laenordeservedbetter · 2 years ago

Text

Everything Has Changed — Rhaenyra Targaryen x GN!Reader

Summary: When Viserys urges Rhaenyra to marry, the princess storms off to her only place of sanctuary, where you comfort her.

Words: 1k

Pairing: Rhaenyra Targaryen x Gender Neutral Reader

Warnings: Arranged marriage at the end (full circle moment or nah? I don't know), sad Rhaenyra (If I missed anything else, lmk!)

I'm posting this here because my other account isn't showing up in the tags. I have no idea why. This was a request by an anon. This fic can also be found in my other acc!!

not my gif.

—

“—and I have given you my answer, Father! I do not wish to be married off to some lord!” was the angry reply of Rhaenyra. As her sworn sword, standing outside the entrance at all times in case someone seeks to hurt her came with the job. You can feel the vibration coming from Rhaenyra shuffling her feet, pacing around the room as if that will help her prove a point to her father. Given the King’s opinion on the subject, you believe he will not change it for Rhaenyra’s own desires. Viserys can be merciless if the situation requires it.

Viserys makes a movement with both his hands to show his irritation, both of their voices growing higher and higher. Any attempts of warding away eavesdroppers will be nugatory. “EVEN I DO NOT EXIST ABOVE TRADITION AND DUTY, RHAENYRA!”

Rhaenyra wavered. Her father ne’er spoke to her this way. It was another sharp cue that everything has changed. No longer would her father wave off her shenanigans or flash a proud smile her way as she defies his orders. She became his political headache. That’s all he sees her as these previous fortnights. So she storms out of the room, not wanting to bid a proper farewell. She would show him. Rhaenyra would show him that she will make a new order of things. Wait and see, father. Wait and see.

You were not given time to blink when Rhaenyra ran by, only giving a nod in your direction. “Princess Rhaenyra!” You cried out, shoving past your fellow guards who make no attempt to join you in following the princess, making you curse them under your breath along with whoever brought them here. They don’t do their jobs correctly. The only reason they’re stationed in the castle is because of their names. If they weren’t born in such families, they’d have to work as hard as you. To your dismay, ranting won’t get you anywhere; much less change the decree that they will have a higher station. Rhaenyra is the priority here. You cannot allow yourself to get distracted.

“Stop following me, Y/n!”

“It is my duty, Princess! You’re my responsibility!”

In the end, you lost sight of Rhaenyra. With your weighty armor hindering your ability to catch up, you had to skid to a stop. “Where are you, Rhaenyra?” You remove the helmet from your head, propping the metal against the wall. If a thief were to stumble upon it, there would be nothing you can do. You’re willing to take that possibility, however, if it meant boosting your odds of becoming quick enough to pursue the crown princess should she cross your line of sight.

There is a solitary sanctuary that Rhaenyra might be in. This hunch is the greatest theory you have. Besides that, you could not possibly take another guess on Rhaenyra’s whereabouts. You set off to the direction of the Weirwood tree, keeping yourself on high alert.

You were correct in your assumptions.

Rhaenyra sat underneath the tree, eyes puffy and red like the fire Syrax would exhale, except it was much darker. She sees your shadow approaching and sighs.

“Tell me what’s on your mind, hm?” You drop down alongside your lover, cupping her face using your hands gingerly. Rhaenyra places her own hand on top of yours, wordlessly requesting to keep your gentle touch there.

Her eyes close and she holds her breath. “Perhaps my father wouldn’t pressure me for marriage as much if I was born as a son instead. No one respects me because I am not a boy.”

You shift your hand so you could slip it between Rhaenyra’s quivering fingers. Her grip was loose, dissimilar to your firm one. She was half-expecting you to take pity on her. When Rhaenyra sees nothing of the sort, she isn’t sure if she feels relieved or saddened.

“I do, ‘Nyra. I respect you. You are not a son. You are a warrior; everything a ruler should be. It may be the topic of controversy right now, but I know that when you ascend the Iron Throne, you will prove that all the people who doubted you were wrong. It’s only a matter of time, my love. They will see one way or another.”

Most of the internal battle betwixt rationality and the hope inhabiting the princess’s body was put to a stop. Rhaenyra leans her head on your shoulder, unperturbed by the armor still on your body as a result of innumerable instances of her “accidentally” sleeping on your shoulder after a long council meeting. You would try to move her body to her own bed, where she would not wake up with a stiff neck, but she can always tell when you badly attempt at transferring her to the comforts of her silk sheets.

“But that’s not happening today, right?”

You smile sadly, placing a kiss on the top of her head, silver-blonde waves tickling your mouth. “Not today, my love. We can only hope for someday.”

“‘Someday’ is adequate for me.” She said. Rhaenyra has a lot on her mind, but when it comes to you, she has no trouble sharing her thoughts. She wants to tell you everything, ranging from her secrets to the promises she whispers in your ear when she thinks you are asleep. “As long as they are with you, ‘someday’ is bearable. I want you by my side, always.”

“I am your sworn shield, Princess. My order is to stay close by. It would be hard for me to get away from you even if I wanted.” Although you laugh wholeheartedly, it dies in your throat as you see King Viserys in the pathway, staring right at you. You couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, but you knew you had to protect Rhaenyra.

“Shit.” Rhaenyra tenses. “Father, I –”

You could not let her take the fall for this. “It is my fault, Your Grace. Rhaenyra is innocent. She didn’t do anything wrong. I should not have –”

“Save it.” Viserys says, running his hand through his hair (what is left of it, anyway). I should have known, he scolds himself for not being able to spot it sooner. Yours and Rhaenyra’s lingering gazes were more than just friendly gestures. It was romantic! “Rhaenyra is to wed you by spring’s end.”

What in the seven hells?

#rhaenyra x reader #rhaenyra targaryen x reader #princess rhaenyra #rhaenyra targaryen #viserys targaryen

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sorryimanon · 5 years ago

Text

Character: Katsuki Bakugou

Warnings: so much fluff and a bit of spice

In which you and bakugou witness your child’s quirk for the first time

Early mornings were the best in your opinion. The warmth of the blankets hugging every inch of your cold body, the sound of cars zipping by outside the cracked window, and the familiar wandering hands that belong to none other than your boyfriend. It’s quite a sight, seeing Katsuki all vulnerable with his head angled just right into the base of the pillow, a pool of drool collecting on it. Usually he’s an early bird, waking up before you to cram in a quick workout then head off making breakfast in the kitchen. However, the routine switched up when a little bundle of joy enterd both of your lives.

Everyone, including you, was surprised you managed to settle Katsuki down let alone have him become a domesticated father. Of course it scared the living shit out of you. Sex with Bakugou was amazing, tenfold even, but one night both of you made an irrational decision to not use protection while being intimate, resulting in you heaving yourself over the toilet the following weekend.

“Stomach flu, right?” Katsuki reasoned anxiously.

“Right.” You reassured him with a crooked smile.

Nine months later you gave birth to a beautiful baby girl. To say you were happy was an understatement. Hell, everything you ever wanted landed graciously on your lap like a silver plater. Even though you and Katsuki weren’t planning having kids for a long time, the moment when your daughter finally arrived, it’s like both of y’all knew she came into your lives at the right time.

Now she lays crushed between Katsukis chest, his arms wrapped protectively around her as though something were to have grabbed her in the middle of the night. Their breathing synchronized each time they inhaled and exhaled. For a second, you admire the two figures in front of you. She sure inherited the looks from your boyfriend. Same blonde hair, toothy grin, and crimson eyes. At least she had more of your personality and mannerisms. Although occasionally her sudden outbursts reminded you of Katsuki when he was a teenager.

Your daughters head was in a awkward 45 degree angle, making her blonde hair cover half of her face. Instinctively, you reached over and brushed aside the tangled mess, making her squirm in place at the sudden touch. She opened her eyes finally and obnoxiously yawned, stretching out her small arms. One of her arms accidentally whacked Katsuki in the face during the process.

“Ugh you fucking gremlin...” Katsuki mumbles, playfully swatting his daughters hand away from his face. Your daughter eventually unlatched herself from his arms and began to jump up and down in the space between you and your grumpy looking boyfriend.

“Daddy’s up! It’s time for breakfast!” Your daughter joyfully proclaimed while bouncing around on the king sized bed.

“No it’s not.” He swept his feet that weren’t covered by the devet under hers, causing her to land softly against the bed. You knew she enjoyed the harsh playfulness when you heard her cries of laughter. You giggled and looked over at Katsuki, who at the moment had a temporary scowl across his face.

“Squirt you know the rules. Get yourself cleaned up and then we’ll start making breakfast,” you promised her.

Her eyes lit up at that moment like it was Christmas morning and hoisted herself off the large bed. She closed the door behind her, like you taught her, and scurried off to the shared bathroom. You wanted to have a moment of peace before she comes barging in again. Closing your eyes, you hummed in satisfaction and snuggled more into your pillow. Across from you, Katsuki had other plans in mind. He closed the space between you and laid his hand on the base of your waist, the other bunching up your shirt. Wanting to feel your skin, he slipped his hand under your shirt and rubbed circles around your abdomen. The coldness that clung to your skin immediately warmed up by his gentle touch. The sensation dragged a familiar sensual feeling down your body. A feeling that you haven’t felt in a while. Opening your eyes to where they’re just tiny slits, you can make out Katsuki staring right back at you.

“I know you’re still awake dumbass,” he softly spoke, his breath fanning the crook of your neck. So close he took the opportunity and started kissing the sensitive area. His tongue darted out, licking a small strip in the crevice. You didn’t need a third party to know a bruise was already forming.

“K-Katsuki. Not right now. Our d-daughter is just down the hall from us,” you manage to croak out as he attacked your neck with love bites. Oh how you missed these small little interactions with him. You knew they resorted to adultry, but anything involving foreplay with Katsuki excited you.

He sucked and bit some more of your supple flesh, causing you to ripple out a soft moan.

“Oh baby, how I missed your fucking moans.”

His morning voice mixed in with his already deep brooding one made you even wetter by the minute.

Soon the hand that was rubbing circles around your stomach extended to your breast, grabbing it playfully in tune to his tongue massage on your neck. Katsuki flicked his thumb over your perky nipple, giving it much desired attention. You parted your mouth slightly at the action, letting him latch his lips onto yours. Thankfully your moans were muffled, or else your daughter would’ve heard.

To return the favor, you carelessly grope Katsukis member through his boxers, earning a groan from him within your mouth.

“Fuck baby. You almost made me...cum by just... doing that,” he said in between sloppy kisses.

Without breaking the kiss, you shifted yourself on top of him, straddling his waist with your bare legs on display. His hand left your breast and replaced itself onto your hip, massaging the skin that was exposed. You removed your mouth from his, catching some air you forgot existed until he meshed into you. The two of you were a panting mess.

“It has been awhile, hasn’t it?” You whispered into his ear.

If looks could melt, his infamous smirk would. “Quickie? Before the brat ruins the fun.”

You huffed and pinched his cheek to the point where the flesh turned red.

“Ow fuck! Okay shitty woman. I take back what I said.” He smacked your ass as revenge and kissed the corner of your mouth. “For later then.”

You triumphantly smirk and peck his lips for good measure. Despite being cold turkey from sex, you knew punishing him by having him wait was the best part. You pushed yourself off him and rejoiced to the warm feeling of his chest. Defeated, Katsuki begrudgingly snaked his arms around you, kissing the crown of your forehead. He had to admit, he’d rather enjoy your body next to his than underneath all sweaty with lust. Don’t be fooled, he loves that too.

“What’s taking that brat so long-“

A loud beep startled both you and Katsuki to sit up straight in bed. It was your fire alarm. An alarm that hasn’t gone off since when you first moved in. Katsuki activated his quirk by accident one time in the kitchen, emitting the same annoying blast of noise this morning.

Leaving the bed in shambles, you both hurried out the door in search for your daughter. A foul scent of smoke and ash was wafting through the air. What you weren’t expecting was for the living room and kitchen to be perfectly pristine of any flames or smoke. You checked the perimeter of the area a second time to make sure you weren’t going crazy. Nothing. Maybe the fire alarm was glitching out? You were pull out of your daze when Katsuki slipped on his own feet coming out from the long hallway.

“I think I found out where the smoke is coming from,” he said breathlessly.

He dragged you along with him to your daughters room. Scared and confused, you turn the nob and slowly open the door. There sat your daughter, in the middle of the room laughing hysterically at something. She then noticed you two standing there and smiled widely. Gosh, she looked so much like her father there.

“Mommy daddy, look what I can do!” She said before plugging her nose and lighting herself on fire.

You’d think, this image would scare you, but no. You stared at awe towards your inflamed daughter, basking in at how the flames protected her body and moved with her. It finally came the day where your child’s quirk manifested. She was basically a lone torch. Katsuki mirrored the same emotions you were feeling as well. Your daughter extinguished herself and trailed over to where you both stood. She hugged your lovers leg, cranking her head to where they can directly look at each other.

“Does this mean I can be like you daddy? I can be a future hero just like you?”

Katsuki couldn’t help but to chuckle and bend down to grab her and place her on his hip.

“Just don’t be hanging out with extras when you’re older kiddo.” He reached around and started tickling her aggressively on the sides.

“I promise d-dad n-no stupid extras!” Her laugh with the combination of Katsukis childish taunts was like music to your ears.

And that wasn’t the last of the rude awakening mornings. Nevertheless, you cherished them more now than ever.

(Might be a reoccurring story bc I love daddy katsuki with a torch daughter)

#katsuki bakugou x you #katsuki x you #bnha bakugo katsuki #bakugo imagine #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou smut #bakugou x reader #bakugou x y/n #bakugou headcanons #bnha x reader #bnha bakugou #mha imagines #mha x reader #bnha smut #katsuki fluff #bakugou fluff #fluff #dad!baku

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btssavedmylifeblr · 2 years ago

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you mentioned that youre reading some of sarah j maas’ books, what do you think about it so far? i read her stories (the acotar series and the tog series) as a younger teen and reread it again recently now that im older. when i learned that youre allowed to criticise a book (i was a blind follower with weak opinions 😅) i found out that there are some readers who arent too fond of her and her writing, it was quite a shock for me cause she used to be my fav author (i read only her books as a preteen 😂). personally, from her books that i’ve read my favourites are throne of glass and crown of midnight (the novellas were really good too)

So I’ve really only read the acotar series so far, so that’s the only one I can comment on (my favorite book was a court of mist and fury, followed by a court of silver flames). There are a bunch of things that I really enjoyed in that series and a bunch of things that annoyed me about it. There will never be an author that every reader agrees about. My favorite living author is John Green, but there are people who criticise/dont enjoy his books. I hate Catcher in the Rye but it’s considered a classic. Different readers are going to resonate with different books more or less and certain things will bug some people more than others. For every author that is someone’s favorite author, there will be a bunch of people who hate them. I think it’s more interesting to look at what book does well and what it doesn’t.

Things I enjoyed about acotar:

1. The main characters, love interests and ensemble casts are great. I really like Feyre and Nesta. They are both flawed and fierce and show real character growth over the series. I love Rhysand. He is pretty much everything I want in a love interest, wings included, haha. I love Azriel and Cassian too. The whole Inner Circle is well drawn and makes you want to read more to find out what happens to them.

2. The romance is great. The whole misunderstood villain/enemies to lovers aspect of Feyre and Rhys is great and made especially compelling because it plays out over such a long time. It’s also some of the most enjoyable smut I’ve found outside of fanfiction.

3. The action scenes are great. When there is a lot happening and things are changing rapidly, it’s very fun to read. Her scene and action description are very immersive and she does a good job of keeping you surprised and invested in the outcome. The scene with the giant worm, the scene in the weaver’s cottage, the battle of Velaris and Nesta in the Blood Rite are all still things that I can picture very clearly in my head.

4. It’s easy to read. And the combination of compelling romance and good action makes it very hard to put down when you’re in the middle of it. So for someone who wants a fun, quick, romance series, I would highly recommend it.

Things that bugged me about acotar:

1. It really needs more editing. The prose on a line by line level is sometimes infuriatingly bad. She will have paragraphs that are just the same sentence written three different ways. There are weird descriptions of internal reactions that get way overused. Like I think Feyre’s “bowels turned watery” at least three times in the first novel alone, which is three times too many. There are long stretches with no action where characters just wander around big houses doing nothing that I found hard to get through.

2. The world building is shallow. There are all these different courts (spring court, fall court, night court, etc) but other than aesthetic differences it’s really not clear how they are in any way culturally or magically different. There are different classes of Fae, but the potential political or social repercussions of that are rarely examined. Some classes of fae are just ugly and bound to serve the pretty High Fae, which is a fairly problematic trope. The villains are rather generically evil without really examining what their motives are. There are characters of different races, but their race has no impact on their character or story arc. Certain cultures like the Illyrians are written as fairly monolithic except for our few “enlightened” main characters.

3. The stuff around gender is not great. One of my favorite booktokers (pagemelt) explained this better than I can, but the whole series and potentially all of Sarah J Mass’s writing, suffers from what she calls “gender essentialism”. All the women are small and thin and young and beautiful, and they might be warriors, but they never overpower the main male characters. The men are all large and strong with giant *ahem* “wingspans”. The male love interests are all much older than the female love interests (like centuries older) and vastly overpower them in both physical and magical abilities and familiarity with the world around them. SJM frequently uses the terms male and female in descriptions such as “he gave her a male smirk” or “looked at her with a male gaze”. I think because she wants to emphasize that they are Fae and not humans, she always uses the terms male and female instead of man and woman, but it creates an atmosphere where the terms male and man always mean the same thing and there is only one specific way to be male. There’s also a whole bunch of stuff about fated lovers and soulmates and such that seems to only leave room for cishet relationships (though there are hints that this may change in future books).

4. It’s fairly predictable. This may be a pro for younger readers or people just getting into fantasy/romance books but it fairly obvious where things are going in advance. The answer to riddle at the end of the first book is so glaringly obvious that it makes the whole ending of that book and the fallout from it seem kind of stupid.

So for someone looking for a complex fantasy story with elaborate world building that more accurately reflects the complexities of the real world, there are a lot of other books that will provide that better than this one.

#bee’s current reads #acotar

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minor-solemnity · 4 years ago

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hi i love your work and am excited for your series. i was wondering if you can do a one shot where the reader comforts tom and let’s him fall asleep on her while she plays with her hair 😩 soft tom 😈

Yesssss! Soft Tom - I cannot resist! This may have gotten away from me a bit so I hope you enjoy 2.6k of fluffy comfort!

Tag List: @jinxqsu @naps-and-lemons @riddles-wifey @mainlynonsense @cakesarecute @crumpets-are-better-with-jam

What Equates to Worship

The door to your bedroom is open and you roll your eyes when you peer inside and find the source of your broken wards slumped in the armchair next to your bed. Tom’s best robes are in a heap at the foot of the bed, his smartest brogues are kicked into the furthest corner of the room, his hair - usually so neat - is disarray. He looks like the world’s most harangued man. “Good evening, my love,” You murmur as you make your way over to his side, kneeling on the floor so that you can take hold of his hands which are resting loosely in his lap. “You broke my wards again.”

It’s late when you get home. There is a Very Important Case being tried in the Wizengamot and your boss, Gerald Montague, is running you ragged in an attempt to get the edge on the prosecution. It’s a nasty case, the defendant, Mr Vickers, is on trial for the kidnapping and murders of five women. His chances aren’t looking good - there is enough physical evidence to bury him and his alibi is flimsy at best. In private, both you and Montague are convinced of his guilt but that doesn’t matter when it’s your job to convince the Wizengamot and a jury of his innocence. Needless to say, it’s not been an easy couple of weeks.

Your shoes click against the uneven cobblestones as you make your way down the narrow road to your flat situated just off the main drag of Knockturn Alley. It’s not the best part of town, but the flat itself is double the size of what you would be able to afford if you lived somewhere more reputable. Besides, it’s not as though you’ve ever been scared by the less savoury parts of humanity and society - you’d be awful at your job if that were the case. You throw a couple of sickles to the hag that operates outside your building, and she promises you glory in the afterlife in thanks. “If you could promise me glory when I’m alive, I think I’d find that more useful,” You say as you fumble with your keys.

She laughs, “That will cost you more than a few sickles, love, try again tomorrow.” You chuckle and shrug a shoulder. It was worth try at least. The gas lamps that lead the way up the winding stairs to your attic flat are already lit, casting a dim, flicking light across the stairwell. You frown slightly as you make your way up the stairs; no one usually lights the lamps, leaving it up to you to light them when you return from the Ministry every day. Your curiosity is further piqued when you reach your front door and find it glowing a dim red, indicating that someone has broken through the wards. You have an idea of who it is, but you take your wand out just in case you’re mistaken. You have a few files from the Very Important Case hidden in the depths of your bedroom, which in the wrong hands, would be disastrous for you and Montague.

The inside of your flat is dark and cold and looks just as you’d left it this morning. With a sigh, you flick your wand at the fire and smile as flames begin to flicker and burn. Your flat is relatively spacious, but the fireplace is enchanted to spread the warmth further than a normal fire would and with any luck you’ll be toasty and warm within a few minutes. You shrug out of your travelling robes and kick off your heels, rubbing your aching feet with relish. Next on your list of things to do is figure out who has broken into your flat and if it's something you should be concerned about.

You pad through the flat, your stockinged feet making no noise against the polished wooden floorboards. The door to your bedroom is open and you roll your eyes when you peer inside and find the source of your broken wards slumped in the armchair next to your bed. Tom’s best robes are in a heap at the foot of the bed, his smartest brogues are kicked into the furthest corner of the room, his hair - usually so neat - is in disarray. He looks like the world’s most harangued man. “Good evening, my love,” You murmur as you make your way over to his side, kneeling on the floor so that you can take hold of his hands which are resting loosely in his lap. “You broke my wards again.”

He makes a small sound in the back of his throat which is honestly pitiful and you are struck by a burning desire to make whoever put him in such a state pay for their crimes. Tom should never look so downtrodden - it doesn’t suit him in the slightest. You rub soft circles against his palms, smoothing the tension out of his fingers with careful strokes as the quiet of your flat weaves a gentle spell of calm and soothing around the two of you. “Is it a good evening?” He mutters and when you look up at his face, you can see the hard lines of annoyance and defeat marring his forehead.

“Hmm, don’t frown, darling - you’ll ruin your pretty face.” This at least gets a small hum of amusement out of him which you count as a win. Heaven knows that when Tom gets in these moods it can take a lot more than gentle touches and murmured sweet-nothings to get him to smile. You rise from your position and move behind the armchair, resting your cheek on the crown on his head and your hands on his shoulders to kneed at his knotted muscles. “I assume that you didn’t get the job?”

You’ve been so busy with your own work that you’d forgotten that Tom’s interview with Dumbledore was today. If you had remembered you would have taken the day off because even the most optimistic person would have known there was a fool’s chance of Tom getting the Defence job. Despite everything though, Tom is an optimist. You would never have guessed it when you first got to know him, but underneath his taciturn facade is a terribly hopeful young man who still believes that things will turn out in his favour. His idealism is part of what you love about him if you’re being honest with yourself. It’s a good contrast to your cynical realism.

It’s ridiculous, of course. Tom, despite his young age, is the most qualified person you can think of for the position. He knows more about Defensive magic than anyone save for maybe Dumbledore himself, and beyond that, he has the right temperament for it. It comes as a surprise to most people who meet him that Tom would be a good teacher, but he really is. His love of Hogwarts, defensive magic, and his desire to impart that knowledge all adds up to someone who sees struggling students and wants them to succeed. If it had been anyone other than Dumbledore, he would have been a shoo-in for the role.

“You assume correctly.” His voice is still tight and muted with resigned anger, but he begins to loosen under your hands, his head lolling to the side and coming to rest against your forearm.

“Did he give you a reason why?”

Tom sighs and the sound is world-weary and destitute. At that moment, your hatred for Dumbledore intensifies. ��He never intended on giving me a chance. He invited me in and lectured me about dark magic. He essentially said that as long as he was Headmaster I would not be welcome in the castle.” The worst thing is that Tom sounds so forlorn. Unlike you, who had decided after a year at Hogwarts that the only thing you wanted to do was leave, Tom’s fondness for the school is unparalleled. “Knowing him, that won’t be for another hundred years or so.”

“I’m so sorry, Tom,” You say, dropping a kiss into the dark curls of his hair. “He’s an old coot. Still so struck by the mythology of his own genius that he can’t see past his own prejudices.” He hums lowly in response and eventually, you feel him start to relax. It’s gratifying to know that it’s you over anyone else, that he comes to when he needs support. You know his friends and followers would do anything to gain his favour, but at the end of the day, he doesn’t seek them out. No, he doesn’t trust them to see him like this, to see him in his more human moments of vulnerability. He trusts you to understand him and comfort him. That in itself is a gift.

“Now, come on. We can worry about Dumbledore later, but right now, let me find us something to eat.” Food, in your opinion, can go a long way to right a lot of wrongs and you have a sneaking suspicion that Tom probably hasn’t eaten all day. He’s annoying like that, too wrapped up in his own thoughts to care about silly little things like eating and taking care of oneself. You can’t help but chuckle softly as he mumbles something under his breath and reaches for your hands to hold you in place. “Later, my love. I promise,” You say and disentangles yourself from his grasp.

Tom follows you out of the bedroom and watches you with a look of exasperated amusement as you search your kitchen. Your cupboards are sinfully bare when you go to inspect them, the rush of the last two weeks has meant that you’ve neglected a lot of your more basic chores. “And you accuse me of neglecting my needs. You hardly set a good example, my dear.” He murmurs from where he’s lounging against the stove. You roll your eyes as you shove your feet back into your heels and head for the door.

“Veeraswamy?” You ask and have to hide your smile when Tom’s eyes light up. It’s not often that the two of you treat yourselves to restaurant-quality food as neither of your jobs’ salaries really allow the indulgence, however, tonight, you think an exception is called for. “Feel free to look over the files I brought home - maybe you’ll notice something I missed.” You don’t even finish your sentence before Tom is digging through your work bag and pulling out the offending files. Typical, you think fondly. Tom is as curious as a cat and one of the easiest ways of making him feel better about anything is to introduce him to a puzzle.

Fifteen minutes later you apparate home with a brown paper bag of Veeraswamy’s finest selection of curries and sweet treats. As a rule, they’re dine-in only, as many of the restaurants in muggle London are, however, you’re not above a confundus charm to get what you want and you always make sure to tip splendidly to offset any guilt you feel for taking advantage. When you get in, Tom has the case files splayed out on the small kitchen table and you spare yourself a moment to admire the elegant curve of his neck and the way his curls fall in graceful arcs across his brow. Without looking up, he makes a space for you to drop the bag of goodies on the table and you collect plates and the bottle of wine that is the only thing you already had in your flat.

You discuss the Very Important Case over dinner and he indulges in your complaints about Montague’s refusal to even consider your line of defence. “Vickers says that he went to a Seer and was told that these women would die by his hand. I want to make the case that he can’t be fully held accountable for the murders if it’s already foretold.” Never mind that that isn’t how prophecies or fortune work, no one in the Wizengamot understands the intricacies of Divination well enough to know that just because something is said, doesn’t mean it will come to pass. “Montague is convinced that we can prove his innocence without resorting to asking for lesser charges.”

“And he’ll lose the case because of it.” He hums, sets his fork down and reaches for your hand, his long fingers looping around your wrist. “Have you considered the fact that Vickers may have been compromised? The file says that when he was found, Vickers was abnormally placid and made no attempts to hide the evidence that would have been easily disposed of? Maybe hire a mind-healer and see if he’s been the victim of an imperius curse,” He says nonchalantly as though he hasn’t just dropped the biggest break in the case in your lap.

“Tom. Tom, you are a genius. How did you even begin to come to that conclusion?” He must hear the wonder in your voice because a small, self-satisfied smile curves his upper lip and he leans over the table to press a chaste kiss to the corner of your lips.

“These things are obvious if you know what you’re looking for.” The knowing in his voice hints at something darker and your eyes narrow slightly. Tom’s proclivity for the dark arts is no secret, neither is his cunning and ruthlessness. You don’t ask and he doesn’t tell, but you suppose it’s probably a good thing that you’re training to become a defence lawyer. Maybe one day he’ll need one.

Tonight is not the night for those kinds of thoughts though. You doubt any night will be - if ever there comes a day when you have to reckon with Tom’s less savoury pursuits, you already know where your allegiances lie. With a soft hum of acknowledgement, you stand and lead him to the bedroom. “Enough maudlin talk for tonight, I think,” You say as you settle against the headboard and motion for him to join you. “You must be tired after today.”

Even though he tries to hide it, you can see that the day has worn on him. Shadows form like ink stains underneath his eyes, and he holds himself with a kind of forlorn regret that fills you with a feeling of sympathetic sorrow. He crawls up the bed and raises an eyebrow when you don’t move to make room for him. Instead, you simply lift an arm and smile, sleepiness and tenderness mingling into something soft in your eyes. After a few second of internal debate where Tom looks from you to the spot you’ve made for him, he gingerly lowers himself against you, his head resting in the hollow where your shoulder meets your neck. He lies unnaturally still and tense in the way a feral kitten might react to the kindness of a stranger.

Honestly, it’s more than a little heartbreaking. Slowly - carefully - you rest one hand over his heart and begin to card your other through his hair. You’re not entirely sure how he manages it - you’ve never seen a haircare potion in his vicinity - but Tom has the softest hair of anyone you’ve met. It’s dreadfully unfair, really. You rub gentle circles against his scalp and smile softly in the dim light as you feel him relax against you, the long hard lines of his body soften as you continue your gentle ministrations. Gradually, you sense him ease into a contented state as he seeks clemency from the day in your touch.

That you can do this for him, that you can be this for him is not something you would have ever thought possible. You remember vividly the uptight rigidity with which he had held himself throughout your time at school. The fervent dedication he had channelled to reach the top of the pecking order, never allowing himself a moment of softness or reprieve. You’re certain that if he’s not careful he will burn himself out before he’s had a chance to truly shine, and you know just how brightly he could if given the chance.

You brush his hair from his eyes and lazily draw abstract patterns against his chest, feeling the way his breathing deepens as sleep overtakes him. In this moment of calm, sleepy repose, you feel your heart expand with all love and care you think you might ever feel, and you brush a soft kiss to the crown of his head, revelling in the almost breathy sigh that escapes him. “You’re far too good to me,” He mumbles, half asleep and entirely too sincere.

“Agree to disagree, my love. I am exactly as good to you as you deserve.” He chuckles at this, nestling deeper into your side and flinging an arm across your waist. “Now, sleep - we have so much time for everything else.”

AN: Also before anyone accuses me of anachronisms, Veeraswamy is London’s oldest Indian restaurant. It was opened in 1926 and I’ve been there once before - the food was so so so good and it was disgustingly expensive. I’m assuming that it wasn’t that pricey in the 40’s

#tom riddle #tom marvolo riddle #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle x you #tom riddle x y/n #tom riddle x oc #tom riddle imagines #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle fanfic #tom riddle fic #tom riddle fanfiction #tom riddle oneshot #minific #asks #request #prompt fill #prompt fic #harry potter #harry james potter

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superdrawer11 · 3 years ago

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Chapter 1 Rouxls Kaard is Suspicious - A theory

(NOTE: This was written before Deltarune chapter 2 came out! I had this theory for about a year, but due to switching fandoms before writing the theory in this format I never got around to posting it or showing it in my ask blog. Also this is somewhat rushed since by the time of finishing this post there’s only 30 minutes left.)

A charming aristocrat, a terrible puzzle maker, a shopkeeper.

Rouxls Kaard is definitely an interesting character with lots of contradictions. His opinion on a topic can change in an instant. What are his true intentions? What was he, before he was a duke of puzzles? His face resembles Gaster, does he have anything to do with him? And is he connected to Jevil?

All of these questions will be ー at least partially ー answered here. If the theory ends up being correct

To get to the bottom of this, we need to look at an area none other than the Great Board. Take a look at these screenshots:

You see, I think Rouxls Kaard may have been the boss of the Great Board.

In order to make this theory more likely, we need more evidence. So, let's do exactly that!

Before we meet Mr. Society and elegance (the two NPC's at the board), we had a puzzle that stated

There are tiles that glow white that, when stepped on, make your screen turn white and teleport you back to the start.

It is well-known that Rouxls can teleport using white light and possesses over a control crown

If Rouxls owns a control crown, he must be able to place such crown on the checker.

As you can see, white light on the checkerboard caused Rouxls’ control crown to fall towards the checker. Furthermore, there are these ponmen who Mr. Society mentions

These ponmen are also used as weapons against Lighteners

And the only time these ponmen appear in the castle at the floor before you meet Rouxls (Rouxls’ first encounter is to the right)

Mr. Elegance and the Puzzlemaster also appear next to each other. The Puzzlemaster uses “We”, and that could imply that they know each other

Now, let us move onto the more mysterious section of this theory, still building off of the screenshots shown above. __

The worm seems to be eating the tree from the mysterious man behind the tree who gives an egg. Presumably the Knight/Gaster (Someone else figured out that EGG in wingdings is ☜︎ ☝︎ ☝︎, which in chess is a move a Knight can make). Rouxls calls the team worms. Heck, he has Rouxlsroux which has worms in it and keeps worms as pets! Having the way of the worm be eating the leaves of the tree of the mysterious man is intriguing.

Now, let us move to this puzzle.

If you try to skip the puzzle, this specific tree will block your path, and it disappears when you solve the puzzle.

Here, you see a ponman in the center. You have to rotate around the ponman

And when you circle around it enough, it seems the leaves of this tree formed some sort of entity, looking at you, and the tree blocking the path disappears.

Let us move to another puzzle

Now, how is this puzzle connected to this theory? Well, in three ways, really. (There is a fourth, but that is at the very end of this theory)

“Only eyes blinded by darkness can see the way” and “The darker it gets, the more you can see” both mean the same thing, just worded differently. Another, stronger evidence, is the fact the same eerie music played at cliffs (Where the eye puzzle is located) as the great board. A third one is that both of these puzzles are perhaps implied to do with Jevil in some way The eyes at the eye puzzle look similar to Jevil’s, and notice the word usage at the later puzzle “Revolve around the center”. Jevil’s theme is The World Revolving. By the way, literally everyone involved in this is suspicious. Mr. Society (helped off-screen), Mr. Elegance, and the Puzzlemaster worked on this door. Very similar to UNDERTALE’s door.

Rouxls’ speech style appeared in the recent UNDERTALE update

The ponmen literally break the fourth wall??

Heck, Rouxls’ teleportation sound is outside the sound folders!

There are two of these in the game’s files

There is one more section to the core of this theory I have to talk about, since time is admittedly running out until chapter 2 is released. I am not sure whether any of this will be true or not, but it’s fun to share! You see, Rouxls is also connected to these forest NPC’s. If you walk around them, these sparkles seem to form around them.

In the game files, these are called Scissor dancers. They make this bell sound (ignore the title of the video) when you interact with them.

I found it quite mysterious that there was a bell sound in this specific place. So I dug a bit deeper and found out that National Geographic has an article about Scissor Dancers!

There wasn’t much on Andean divinities that I could find except they also worshiped the earth. Now, does this connect to Deltarune? Maybe. Here is what it could be about:

The sun are the Lightners, the moon are the Darkners, and while it doesn’t say what the Earth is supposed to represent, it seems important.

These Scissor Dancers seem to be praying for the Lightners, Darkners, and Earth if my conjecture is correct. The thing is, there are also some other mysterious things about these Scissor Dancers. Back in the day, they were called Sons of the Devil, and there was a belief that this dance was a manifestation of Dark Magic. (Could this be a connection to Jevil due to them having a Devilsknife?) Furthermore, they seem to hide their eyes. A big theme in Deltarune.

So, how does this connect to the theory? You see, not only do these Scissor Dancers appear next to Rouxls’ second encounter.

these sparkles are the same.

If you look in the files, you can see these are called Light Fairies (Don’t mind the game looking strange, this is how it’s supposed to look)

If you look at the code when you encounter Rouxls, you see the exact same sprite, but it’s not moving and it’s the original size (The ones around the Scissor Dancers seem to be bigger)

That’s the base of my theory. There may be more intricate details I didn't put here, but writing this was somewhat rushed since the countdown timer is literally shaking and I only got like thirty minutes left lmao. I really want to get this theory on the web before Chapter 2 comes out; I spent too many hours on this theory to let it go to waste-

#Rouxls #Rouxls Kaard #Deltarune #Deltarune chapter 1 #Theory #I only have like thirty minutes left before it releases oh god-#I'm so hyped and nervous all at the same time aaaaa

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endlessly-cursed · 3 years ago

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Happy FFWF!!! Please, use this as an opportunity to gush about your OG novel to your heart’s desire!

EEEEE, it warms my heart that someone is interested in my darlings!!!!

Alright, so, let's get into scene: It's 1818, and England is going through a sucession crisis.

Joanna Fields has grown up outside that crisis: instead, she has grown into a magical empire called Dracaria, an advanced country as the Imperial Crown Princess of the aging widowed Empress Amalas, though she's fallen out of favour because she has married secretly a mortal man at the age of 17 (gasp!!!!!!) and had a child and is now expecting her second one.

One day, a letter comes adressed to her... it's a letter from her father, who is very much alive, and awaiting her at the marquesade Marble Stone.

She's excited, but also anxious, for she has foresaken the Mighty Oracle that Knows All, saying that in that estate she'll know her destiny with the help of four companions with very different backgrounds, but complement her and she needs them as much as they need her.

A tired judge with a very mysterious past...

A runaway Greek spy chased by the Ottoman empire... (yep, still haven't found the perfect fc for him...)

A mysterious recently knighted lord...

And a new money woman, daughter of a man that everyone especulates is not her real father...

A estate and empire to inherit and try to kill an assassin who is after her head and claim to the throne, who happens to be very near her circle, with her mother dead, expecting her second child and her son in danger, while dealing with a disgusting duke that won't take the hint and who's very infamous with women, mind you, the competitiveness of the London Season and the future of England and Dracaria resting on her head, The Cursed Heiress deals with many problems such as the sexism, racism, expectations in both women and men, how Joanna navigates a world very much different from an advanced society to the narrow-minded, ancient and wounded world of the Regency Era, full of hipocrisy, hedonism, decadence, depravity and loss. Too much loss, a world in the making that needs one push.

We also can see fragments of the past to the exciting lives of her mother and aunts, who are equally exciting and centuries old!!

Odessa, the mother who has died mysteriously...

Nene, The mysterious aunt who doesn't trust any mortal man for a dark reason...

And Nya, the older aunt who's looking for her long-lost son and is a great advisor and guide to our heroine...

And of course, our heroine herself, the most powerful being having been created in milleniums... Joanna Crochane

I have to say, this is probably my life's work, and how is turning out gives me such joy and the occasional headache because worldbuilding, lolz. But I wouldn't have it any other way and I hope that when is out is to your enjoyment, Al, cause I respect your opinion as a writer very much!!!

My DMs are open if you need to know more or simply want more content <3

#not hp #other projects #the cursed heiress #original novel #(late) ffwf #mutuals #al 🧠

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katsukikitten · 5 years ago

Text

Warnings: 18+ NSFW, mentions of animal harm, sexual themes, god/fantasy au for BNHAREM this badboi is 8k so enjoy~

The sound of a wind chime echoes across the small field just outside your home. The breeze carries the smell of summer bloomed blossoms and with it the threat of rain as it comes from down the mountain.

A soft brown creature catches your eye as your mother picks flowers and berries for the festival.

“Bunbun!” You exclaim, pointing as you tug on your mother’s tattered kimono, she responds with a soft hmm. Her eyes still focused on the wide range of flowers although her vision blurs.

But at least you weren’t picked for this festival, no it would be many years before you would be in the running. Your mother’s only wish was for you to be unfavorable. Mother is so engrossed that she does not see you slip away, slowly following the bunny into the forest.

Soon the soft brown creature begins to hop, faster and faster as you giggle running full speed ahead. Not noticing how the trees thicken or how dark eyes seem to peer through the trees, their mawls salivating with unsated hunger. With gnashing teeth they stalk ever closer all the while you rush to catch the creature just for it to jump high into the air. Nose diving straight for the ground, you copy its actions but the bunny is faster than you. Slipping into the burrow with ease as you fall face first into dirt and rocks.

“O..ow. Momma!” You sniffle, turning around for some much needed motherly love, but instead of your mother hunched over collecting boring things in her basket you are met with a dense forest. The setting sun washes over the trees giving the thick pines and maples a ghoulish red hue. Suddenly you are hyper aware of the sounds around you, a stick snaps in the brush. Your head turns as if you were a startled deer, eyes wide, heart racing as you strain to hear over the rushing blood in your ears. Dark figures move in the long shadows and haunting laughs echo around you. Beady eyes shine in the darkness causing a small whimper to leave your lips. Acting on instinct you rush to your feet, running through the woods. Briers snatch at your small ankles, leaving angry red lines in their wake, wanting nothing more than to make you a child of the forest.

“MOOOM!” You shout, panting as they force you further into the mountain, you take a quick left when one jumps from the right causing you to trip over a branch falling into a small clearing, faintly you hear the rush of a spring.

Scuffling rouses a sleepy garnet haired man who lounges in a steaming hot spring, that’s sprinkled with fallen petals of mountain flowers. He thinks to dismiss it until a scream cuts through the serenity of the pines. Whatever animal it is, it sounds small and this stirs something in the mountainous man. Sadly this was the circle of life, he reminds himself as he sinks deeper into the burning hot spring.

“MOMMA HELP PWEESE!!” You scream, trying to get up but this time you are entangled in a briar patch, thorn and vine twisting around your tender skin. It seems the wicked green plant will have its wish.

All the while the shadows stalk closer, their bright beady eyes blown wide as their jaws unhinge for their meal. They get on their haunches to launch themselves at you until something causes them to freeze. The trees shake around you while the Earth rumbles as if there were a thunder storm beneath the rich dirt.

“Hello little flower. Are you lost?” You whip your head towards the sound. Lip quivering as you stare up at a tall, built man. But it was his eyes that stood out the most.

His glistening rubies glow as fading sunlight catches his hair, emphasizing that the strands are a red so deep one could mistake it as black. Your eyes play tricks on you as the air seems charged and yet calm, giving him a surreal aura. He stands tall, half relaxed as one arm is lazily hanging from his dark rose kimono while the rest of his sculpted body is exposed to the slowly cooling air. You weigh your options as best you can before you scramble to your savior. Clinging to his leg as your tears begin to stain his kimono.

He breathes in deeply and before he can speak the dark figures vanish, melting into the shadows that stretch in the last winking light of the Sun. He crouches down to you, pushing hair past your face.

“Don’t cry little flower. Here.” A beautiful flower crown appears in his hands. The white petals with contrasting amethyst stripes down the center seem to have their own shimmering bio-luminescence making it feel other worldly as he places it atop your head. He chooses the dietes flower for its symbolism and rarity, unknowingly sealing your fate.

“Is that better, little one?” You nod in response, sniffling softly as he scoops you up walking you until he can just see what must be your home through the thick trees. He watches what he assumes your mother to panic, as the village shouts what must be your name.

“You’ll have to walk the rest of the way okay little flower?” He sets you down gently before you give a big nod. Cold bare feet crunching the leaves against the forest floor.

You come into the clearing of your home, the sea of yellows, pinks and reds winking in the stark light of the moon.

“Momma…” You call softly, the world stops turning on its axis before she rushes to you, pulling you into her arms before her eyes are filled with overflowing fear. Fat droplets leave her long lashes as she snatches the crown away, but it is too late. It has been seen by all.

“Oh she is favored by the Gods.” Someone comments.

“If she grows into anything like her mother she will be the best choice to appease the Mountain God!"

"Let us mark this day and the family name so we may remember 16 years from now."

They continue to gossip as your mother squeezes you tight enough that it hurts. Her mind racing as she carries you inside, she tucks you in without a word of a scolding. Coaxing you to drink some lavender tea that pulls you into a deep sleep beneath the symphony of crickets and the like.

You do not hear your mother return and if you do, you guess she is doing her nightly routine. Fluffing your blankets and making sure your futon is warm enough but what you weren’t expecting was the cold bite of a blade pressing into the flesh above your left eyebrow.

"Mom…Momma’s sorry baby.” She chokes on her sobs as she pulls the cool metal hard and deep, crying so loud she can barely hear your scream.

But that was how long ago? Almost two decades? You toss a rock into your reflection, distorting your marred face as your childhood flashes before your eyes.

You remember there was shouting, lots of shouting of how you are now “unfavorable” “dishonorable” “an abomination” the next day and from then it’s a blur of insults and isolation. Nothing but the wind in your hair, the creaking of the trees and a dream of glistening rubies kept you alive, desperate to return to the last time you were happy. Although you were unsure of who you saw in the mountain that fated night, a part of you could guess. It had to be the Spirit of the Mountain, Kirishima. Because who else actually looked like the painted scrolls that littered the village and shrines? In your opinion they had his image all wrong.

He does not scowl or wear a grimace, no his smile is sharp toothed and bright. You sigh, wondering if you will ever bump into him again.

An inhuman scream tears through the serenity of the babbling brook causing a chill to run through your spine. If you had to guess it was most likely a fox or wolf finally catching up to its meal.

“They must eat too…” You murmur to yourself, drawing your knees to your chest. The wind rustles the leaves overhead giving you sharp visions of beady black eyes from the past.

“Don’t let it get away!” A shout from your left before the animal comes scurrying through the brush, running smack into your lap. It is a small fox, its tail missing and in its wake a crude weeping cut. Your vision blurs red as you take off your top layer of kimono, wrapping the poor thing in the brown fabric.

The culprits come into view, the village elder’s son holds the tail while his favorite goon holds the knife. Red falls to the Earth in nauseating droplets.

“Well well well, looks like we found something else we can carve up huh?” The goon asks with a smile, “Just keep quiet freak."

The elder’s son is hesitant, something odd grows in his eyes and chest. Suddenly the tail feels a lot heavier than what it was moments ago, especially so under the weight of your single gaze. Your left eye although clouded over seems to stare straight into his soul. Can you see the desperation he has? Worst yet can you see how tainted he is?

"Oi Kenji” The goon nudges him, clearly only hanging around the future heir for his influence and with it a hope of immunity to terrorize as he pleases.

The motion brings him back to the present while a plan begins to form in his head. Would anyone believe the dishonorable, disowned freak over him? Could he do things to you that no matter how loud you screamed the truth it would fall on deaf ears?

His cruel smile is an answer in of itself as he takes a step towards you, it wouldn’t be hard to make you his. You take a step back, mindful of the sun’s position and your surroundings. They both creep nearer as you hold the shaking animal to you, you turn on your heel rushing through the woods. They were fast and well trained however no one knew these woods like you did.

It was as if you knew of every fallen leaf or broken branch as you rushed through the deep green leaves. Dodging low branches that they hit face first, holes they tripped in and even a dead deer carcass that you bound in a single leap. You hear a crash and one of them gag as your feet urge you forward, looking over your shoulder.

That is until your run into something so solid you fall right onto your ass, the small animal gives a whimper on your lap.

“I could have sworn…” The sound of rushing water swallows up the rest of your thought as you look up to what you’ve run into. Wholly expecting a tree stood a man, with deep garnet hair and a sharp toothed smile. Immediately your blood turns cold, the air about him seeming other worldly as the forest quiets and slows in his presence.

“Ah, are you alright?” He asks, extending his hand to you, gingerly you take it. His calloused hand is warm and strong as he lifts you to your feet, ruby eyes staring at the bundle in your hand.

“May I?” Hesitantly you pass the bundle, he frowns at its contents before setting the small fox on the ground, waving his fingers to heal its wound. The fox looks at the healer, seemingly giving him a small bow before rushing back into the safety of the brush.

“The fox told me what you did. Thank you.” His smile is blinding and dazzling. He offers you a single white flower, the amethyst stripe up the middle causes your stomach to tighten.

“Do you always give out good fortune?” You ask quietly, turning the wild iris over in your hand. He laughs, if he recognizes you he does not show it but you are sure this is the man who gave you an abundance of “good fortune” years ago. Your scar burns from the thought. Your mother did tell you stories of the Gods playing cruel jokes.

But was Kirishima truly a maleficent God?

You bit your lower lip. A warm hand cups your chin, a soft smile on his face as he turns your left side to you.

“Do I know you dear heart?” His voice is soft, eyes half mast almost lazily gazing upon your features. You tuck the iris in your ear and it seems to jog his memory.

“Little flower!” His voice becomes larger, sharper, as his thumb swipes over the deep fissure on your cheek “What happened?!"

His touch is comforting but not enough you wish to relive the trauma again.

"I wish not to speak about it.” Your eyes catch the position of the sun. Gently you step from his soft grip.

“I must return home for dinner before I cause my mother to worry.” You bow formally, presenting the flower “Thank you Kamisama but I cannot accept your blessing."

You stand like that long enough your back begins to hurt causing a deep fear to flow through your veins.

Was he angry that you dared to reject him?

Your feet burn with the urge to run but you dismiss it, finally his large fingers grasps at the small stem holding the rarity in his hands. Eyes roving over you, you peek up to check his gaze and while he looks level headed to you, you decide to leave before you find out if he isn’t.

He stares after you, eyes curious and yet not surprised as to how he could have forgotten about someone as remarkable as you.

But how could he remember?

You are nothing more than a mere mortal and you were a child at that. A blip, a hazy day dream even, in his infinite lifetime.

So what interest would he have in a life so fleeting that should he rouse from a nap he would be meeting your great grandchildren who could remember nothing more about you than your name?

And yet when he looked at you now, as a full grown woman, something bloomed in his chest. Your scar adding to your mystic beauty, especially after what the fox had told him.

His ruby eyes return to the flower as he ponders over your question in his head.

A week or so passes, as you’re sure to avoid the Mountain God. Still fearing he may be angered by your rejection.

But you cannot stay from the depths of the forest long. Staring down at your reflection in the water you sigh, running your hand through the cool water debating if you will bathe in one of the many hot springs tonight. A scurrying in the bush pulls your attention to the here and now. Muscles rigid as you worry it will be an encounter with the heir and his goon, shimmering orange rushes from the brush easing your mind.

"Ah hello friend!” You call and the fox stops in its tracks, task or hunt at hand long forgotten, “Did His healing power work?"

You cannot help the glee in your voice as you see your friendly fox sit near your feet, it swishes its tail and just like that another seems to appear. Wagging like an opposing pendulum beside the other.

"You have two tails now, oh” You give a sly smile, “Are you here to steal my liver?"

The kitsune chuckles at your joke, his little laugh echoing in the clearing. The haunting sound brings an odd comfort to you as he tilts his head as if someone is whispering to him. He gives a small nod before approaching, setting something in your lap that his black lips were not holding before.

A note of sorts and the flower he attempted to offer you earlier. The note reads in glowing golden red hue,

"Let’s start over again. Tea by the blue moon wild flowers at midnight.”

You sigh deeply, placing the card and flower deep in your tattered kimono with the thought of not showing up. Why would a God want tea with you? You who wears a scarred face and milky white eye. You give the kitsune a soft pat before standing, brushing the dirt from your deep brown kimono.

You spend the rest of the day as you told your mother you would, picking flowers to both practice arranging and drying for the upcoming festival. There were only a few weeks left and you had done zero practicing as you has promised. Your mother claimed this would help earn your keep with the village but you were sure that was more for her peace of mind than the truth.

With your basket heavy with the finest of flowers you head towards home, careful to avoid the path you last saw the God on.

And anytime you had thought you caught wind of his intoxicating smell of soft musk, pine and the biting threat of snow you turned on your heel as quickly and quietly as humanly possible, ignoring the gemstone gaze that bore into your back.

After a small dinner with your mother and hours of twisting flower streams to make crowns of, you finally get the chance to lie down to sleep.

But sleep doesn’t come, instead you’re wide awake as the moon leaks in the through the small cracks in the walls. Dust dancing on the low light as you sigh as if you were in love.

Deep, unsatisfied and often.

The invitation burns in the folds of your kimono and suddenly you are filled with action. Gently you rise, fumbling with your hair as best you can before you mumble curses to yourself. Placing a practice crown on your head and rouging your lips with the remnants of berries before you set out into the darkness.

Your feet seem to guide you on your own as you weave through the trees. Fireflies lazily floating in the air as crickets scream their symphonies at your feet. Finally you come across the mostly hidden spot.

Hesitantly you step into the clearing, blue moon flowers glitter in the light of the quarter moon as if sprinkled with stardust. Their silver sheen invites you in further as a wind sweeps through the patch. Your eyes rove over as you look for the Mountain God. When your search comes up empty you feel your heart free fall into your stomach. Heated foolishness creeps into your throat and cheeks.

Why would a God invite a mortal?

Blinking away hurt tears you turn briskly, stopping yourself from running from the clearing incase he is watching for the sake of his cruel joke.

That is until a deep voice rings out, vibrating the very bones in your body with a comforting hum.

“Little flower, Are we not having tea?” His tone is innocent and when you turn around with half a mind to fuss you see it. A beautiful hand woven rug that holds a low tea table, atop the dark wood sits finary. Foods, desserts and tea ware that would make the emperor jade green with envy.

“This is…” You whisper but he reaches his hand towards you, gently guiding you to a plush cushion, his strong hand wrapped steadfast around yours. He waits until you are seated comfortably before he sits close to you.

Almost too close, his shoulder could easily brush against yours in movement and it does as it takes you an eon to realize what exactly he is doing.

Preparing the tea. Immediately your stomach flips as shaking hands fumble to stop him, grabbing onto his large hands with a fervor unmatched. A quizzical look before a sly smirk paints his handsome features.

“A..a..a God should not be serving a m..mortal tea.” You trip over your words feeling self conscious as your palms feel is if they are sweating. Shame radiates through your chest as if a hot rod were shoved through your heart.

“Then let us not be a God and a mortal.” He smiles, lips curving upward gently as his shining teeth glint in the low light. You should be scared, frightened that you may have insulted him or worse yet earned the infamous Wrath of the Mountain God.

But you aren’t, if anything you’re on the complete opposite of the spectrum as the breeze shifts his scent closer to you. The forest alive at night, the sharp smell of snow mingling with the gentle fragrance of bloomed flowers.

Suddenly you feel dizzy and his next words do not help.

“Let us be more.” Again you feel the comforting hum in your chest, you decide now is a good time to let go of his hands.

He sets the tea before you, again you are faced with a pitiful reflection. You blow on the green liquid disrupting the steam and with it your image. It is quiet save the sounds of late night summer although it is not uncomfortable silence that passes over the hours between the two of you. It is easy as the two of you sip your tea and for a moment you think you’ve forgotten the sin you’re committing by forgetting who he really is. Occasionally the two of you would share a laugh, his shoulder brushing against yours before he comes closer, close enough your forearms touch as they rest against the table. His skin feels warm and smooth like a rock baking in the sun, his smile dazzling as his face seems to get closer. His finger hooks into your palm, lazily tracing the lines as if they were an old and familiar map.

“Why do you love the mountain forest so much?” His voice is so close you feel breath fan your cheek. Butterflies take rapid flight in your stomach.

Was it that obvious? I guess it would be with how much of your life you spent within these thick trees.

“There is so much to love in this place of solace. Every new clearing brings something of wonder. A waterfall, a field of flowers, a hot spring to soak your aching bones. Even just a small fawn grazing on the seeds the trees and flowers offer is more beauty than I can imagine."

His fingers stop, leaving an odd tingling sensation causing your nerves to stand on edge. Attempting to reach towards the soft touch once more. Kirishima looks to the moon and how it begins to set.

"Another day little flower.” He whispers, voice honeyed yet sharp as you find yourself standing on the edge of the woods, staring at your small home. You turn in a full circle and see no sign of the God causing your heart to grow heavy. Gripping at your chest as you make your way back towards your home, you thought maybe he didn’t like your answer. Maybe he read your honesty as a poor attempt of flattery.

What you don’t know is that he liked your answer a little too much.

It isn’t long before you find yourself in the same patch of flowers at a questionable hour sitting beside Kamisama himself. You swallow thickly, nails biting into your palm as again he pours your tea.

Is this right? Would your mother approve?

You were sure she wouldn’t, and not from your lack of manners but seeing the very man she so feared and having tea with him nonetheless.

“Something troubling you my blossom?” Flustered over his familiarity you stammer out a response.

“Just…just thinking.” You offer a shy smile as he returns a wolfish grin, you do not know that he can hear just how fast your heart is beating.

“Hmmm.” The hum rumbles in your own chest and large bottle flies take flight in your stomach. He brushes some hair out of your face so he can better see it. He smiles softly.

“I’ve been curious about why you are collecting so many flowers lately.” Rigid beneath his touch you fear you have angered him but it won’t be long before you realize just how infatuated he is with you.

“A festival for you Kirishima, Kamisama of the Mountain.” He lets his fingers play and twist in your hair. You try not to look away.

“You’ll be the guest of honor then?” His fingers brush down your heated cheeks.

Despite the intimacy of both his touch and proximity you give a loud laugh. Eyes looking at a blurred green version of yourself in your cup.

“No, I’m sure I could never be favored.” At least not by the villagers.

But you seemed to be favored by the Gods. You swallow thickly, of all the talk and importance of the festivals your mother never let you attend, so you are unsure what happens.

While you’re left home alone you could hear the loud beats of the drum, their feet hitting against the stone of the square and their joyous singing.

Sometimes you think you hear a scream.

But you cannot reflect on it long as a pair of soft lips press against your cheek. Then when you do not move they graze along your jawline before finding their way to your pulse. You give a small gasp and when he gives a small suck you a raspy moan. He growls against your throat, a sudden heat grows between your legs and you swallow desire whole.

He feels how tense you have become and eases up from your throat. Guiding you by your chin so you may face him before he steals away your first kiss.

Not that you would have given it to anyone else.

The next month is a game of cat and mouse. Both of you eagerly seeking the other out, yet making it seem as if it were a mere accidently. All the while a now three tailed fox smiles knowingly. It’s a blur of tea, mountain top views over valleys, and deep passionate kissing.

But this last encounter truly was by pure chance for both parties.

The pungent smell of sulfur tickles your nose, although this is the least offending spring. Its water a lovely milky blue that you’ve decorated with a few left over flowers heads. You sigh as you sink deeper into the borderline scalding water being sure to soak your aching hands and feet.

You’re thankful that the rushing water settles here in this cluster of rocks despite the small current that carries it away just a few feet down. A sigh leaves your body, eyes lingering to the light of the full moon before they flutter close. Your guard completely down as you know no one is going to be wandering around these woods.

It is the night of the festival after all.

And no one was sure as hell gonna be out looking for you.

Not even Kamisama as you were sure he would oversee the festival, it was held in his name was it not?

Sleep threatens to pull you beneath its veil so much so you do not hear the footsteps that approach.

He steps closer to the spot of his favorite spring and when he sees your head titling back onto the rocks, a fine blush blooms on his cheeks.

“My little hana?” His voice is soft yet concerned, startling you. The water splashes around as you turn to face him.

If you were flustered before you’re beyond that now. He has his back to you as he gives your privacy, face slightly turned but his eyes are not overlooking his shoulder. Your eyes widen as they take in His beauty. His hair tied up in a messy bun, winking blacks and deep reds beneath the moonlight. His broad shoulders exposed, eyes trailing down his sculpted back to see his bare buttocks. Strong, thick legs holding up this God of a man.

Well he was a God wasn’t he?

“Are you alright, lovely blossom? I didn’t know you’d be here I can come ba…"

"No. No no!” You interrupt, “I…"

It’s silent for a moment, lust moves your lips.

"I wouldn’t mind the company.” Your voice is barely heard over the swirling, rushing water.

But the smirk on his soft lips tells you that he had heard you. And he will never forget the invitation.

He turns to join you, your eyes following down the trail of his abs to his pointed V, you do not allow your eyes to travel further south and force them to his face. His glowing eyes bright, two shining rubies lighting up the night. He sinks into the water across from you, letting his arms spread and rest on the rocks.

You release the breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. Sinking into the water as you realize just how exposed you are. The weight of his gaze is doing something to you.

He keeps his eyes locked on yours, the heat of the spring makes you a bit dizzy and you’re beginning to wonder if it is his merlot eyes that have you on cloud nine.

That have you so bold. Bold enough you float yourself beside him, right into the crook of his arm. He gently slides it around your shoulders, pulling you closer to his chest.

“How was your day my sweet?” His voice is soothing but you’d rather not recount your day or the number of flowers you set just right.

“Boring. Yours Kirishima?” He smiles as you use his name.

“Same.” He places a chaste kiss to your damp hair line. It leaves you wanting more.

“A..again please?” He goes to kiss your forehead again but you tilt your face upward. He smiles, putting his hand at the nape of your neck. Leaning in impossibly slow holding your gaze. His look makes you impossibly higher and then his kisses your lips.

It is soft, it is slow, but each movement of his lips become more feverish, more bold. Like a cracked dam after a rain far too heavy, it is going to burst.

And it does.

Your mouth openes to him and he slides his tongue between your teeth, swirling and tasting your earthly, mortal form. You moan into the kiss, giving him more entrance, your hands clawing at his hair, his back while his hands follow your curves. Running up and down your sides, pinching at your nipples turning you into putty in his hands. You do not resist, you would never deny him and you’re sure he would never take.

He does nothing more than light exploring, commiting your skin to memory. You let out another moan, this one louder than before enticing his primal needs. As his tongue slides over yours his hand snakes to your lower back, pulling you into his lap.

You feel his harden asset resting close to your throbbing sex.

Would…would it be okay to bed a God? For a mortal to be touched by hands that can create and destroy in a matter of nanoseconds?

Suddenly you feel too hot, too flustered, too high as the world spins rapidly on its axis. You push back, gasping for air and immediately his lust is replaced with concern. He sees tears forming in your eyes, signs of some internal battle.

It reminds him of when he pours you a cup of tea but tenfold. He looks up at you, one hand traces down your spine before his other wipes away your tears.

“Blossom for me when you’re ready not when I want you, my little flower.” His voice is soft, reassuring, causing you to cry more. His fingers gently trace your scar, follow your spine, and continue to wipe away your tears when needed.

You nod helplessly, removing yourself from his irresistible lap, he pulls you to cuddle. A soft kiss to your hairline. The moon begins to climb higher in the sky and although your mother will not be home for some time, you still need to beat her home. Maybe he can read minds as he says.

“Let’s meet later tonight? Our usual time after your mother has returned home?” You nod against his chest, slowly stand. He supports your weight as he holds onto your hand as you ease out of the comforting water.

You look for your brown kimono but with every second you cannot find it panic seizes your bones.

“M…my kimono. I…I can’t find it!” You realize you may have misplaced it or worse yet placed it too close to the water.

Oh Kami did it get washed away?

“Flower, love. It is fine. I can help.” He snaps his fingers and you’re adorning the most stunning kimono you’ve ever seen. More so than what any painting of any God and Goddess meeting you’ve ever seen. You twirl in the ombre kimono. It starts out black, like a moonless night at the top before lightening until it is put glowing starlight at your ankles.

“Its gorgeous. But it is too much."

"Nothing is too much for you.” He stands, a kimono appears on his body as well, ombre again, black at his shoulders until it is blood red at his ankles. The bottom reminds you of the first time you had seen him when you were little. When he saved your life, a halo of setting sun emphasizing his status.

“We will meet again?" You nod and he cannot bring himself to say he is going to the annual meeting of the Gods because if he did, with you wearing this star woven kimono, he would whisk you away with him.

"Until we meet again."

With the sound of the window fluttering through the trees you find yourself on the fringes of the woods, just outside your home.

Gingerly you step into the field of flowers, slowly walking towards your house as you relive the time you most felt alive.

His lips, his hands, his body pressed against yours.

So caught up in your daydream, in your promise of later tonight, you do not see the eyes lying in wait.

Those prying eyes take note of your kimono and how it shimmers and shines with an otherworldly glow as you slip into your home.

It isn’t long before you hear a string of screaming and see a set of lights coming your way, close enough you can make out silhouettes and what the woman is screaming.

"SHE IS UNFAVORED! LOOK AT HER SCAR SHE IS TAINTED BEAUTY!” You realize quickly that is the wails of your mother.

Frantically you try to strip yourself of your kimono but a large hand strips away the door. Your faces are illuminated from the soft glow by your ankles making it clear to see a set of hard steely eyes with hurt but never regret as they should.

“Just like I said. A blessed kimono.” Kenji’s voice is as hard as his eyes as his father peers in, he smiles with delight.

“We are surely saved from the drought now. Kenji bring her to the festival."

"No.” Your voice is small, a foreboding dread feeds your panic as your mother cries, restrained by Kenji’s goons. You step back but he lunges for you, squeezing you so tightly you cannot breath.

The walk to the center seems like ages as you kick and scream, crying out for Kirishima.

“Yes call for our God. He will be happy to receive his gift, time is running out.” The elder speaks. You elbow Kenji square in the face, everyone panics as you begin to run. Kenji catches you again. The moon hands high over head, perfectly in the middle of the sky.

“There is no time left. Let’s do it now!” Kenji’s goon from before shouts, sending the crowd into a boisterous agreement.

Kenji withdraws his knife, both of your struggling for power. He leans in close, nose touching yours as the smell of copper and ash cling to his skin.

“You should have just stayed in your place ugly. Should’ve let me have my way.” He slices at you and for a second time a blade marrs your skin.

He is supposed to make this quick for you, one quick motion against your throat. Instead he lets the blade sink deeper, carve harder until his is splatter in your life’s nectar. Only you and your mother cry out. The rest of them pray and sing.

Kenji picks you up and tosses you into the brush of the woods.

“Have her now Kamisama and bless us with rain!” He speaks as if he is the current elder. Grey eyes cold as they look down at you. They retreat to their usual planned activities, dragging your lost mother with them to drink to their heart’s content. To make her watch what an honor it was for her child to have been chosen.

It hurts, Kami it hurts as you drag yourself through the woods. Briars tangle around your quickly growing limp limbs as you pull yourself deeper.

“Kiri…Kirishima!” Your once loud screams turn into hardly more than whispers. But that shouldn’t matter. He should still hear you shouldn’t he?

Was this not his domain? He can hear every rustling leaf, every snap of a twig, surely he could hear the pained cries of his lover.

No, no you shouldn’t call yourself that, you were not his lover, you were just favored by him.

And isn’t that always what you wanted? To be desired? Loved?

This was a festival for Kirishima himself so why did you think any different?

And why do you still call out his name?

Your vision blurs in purplish blues and blacks as you fade in and out, a soft sweet scent is tainted with stinging copper. You cough and more dark liquid sputters from your lips.

It reminds you of his eyes.

Kitsune comes into the clearing helping frantically. But you smile as you notice his fourth tail.

“At least I will not die alone…” You breathe as the fox attempts to lick at your wounds, “Why, why is he so cruel?"

Fat tears fall down your cheeks and the fox panics further. He opens his mouth, his voice comes out gravely and close to a growl without the animosity.

"Master does not know of this, master would never allow this!” He laps at your blood in a desperate attempt to heal you with what little grace he has been bestowed.

But it doesn’t matter as your world fades to black.

Kirishima steps through the portal near the top of the mountain to be met with a horrid sight, not realizing it could be worse than that. Kitsune’s normal Auburn fur is tainted a sticky black substance, Kirishima gets a closer look causing his blood to run cold.

He appears in the field of flowers, following the trail you left as a wispy form of you stands through your drained body.

“No.” Quiet before deafening loud, birds and animals flee away from him, “NO!"

The shades circle the clearing, too afraid to enter but too hungry to leave.

Kirishima shakily grabs onto your glowing hands, tears fall down your cheeks.

"I…I…” Tears prick his eyes, rage washes over his features, “Who?"

Your spirit cannot speak as you are still tethered to your fast cooling body. He follows the direction of your eyes, music and laughing become louder further angering him. A thought occurs to him, he reaches for the small golden chain that is at your spiritual ankle connecting you to your real body, he could keep you here, he could….but before he can break your life’s chain a mist of black appears.

"You know you cannot do that.” From within the mist comes a man with the head of a raven or a tengu, Kirishima is not sure. All he knows is that he loathes to see Death come too close to the things he loves.

“But.."

"Look around you Kirishima-kun. You’ve tried countless times to keep mortals before and what becomes of them? Shades, unwavering, thoughtless hungry shades as I’ve told you. Their spirits are so far corrupted they could never return to the cycle.” Death speaks the truth but it does not stop the anguish that sweeps through his body.

He cannot allow it just yet. He watches as your golden chain is unhooked, you walk backwards, keeping your eyes on your God as Death guides you.

“Until we meet again.” It is a whisper on the wind, a rustle in the leaves, a huff of a nearby fawn and babbling of the hot spring. He nods, eyes glued to you as you fade away into the black mist.

He breathes deeply as he picks you up, cradling your cold body to his hard chest. He walks gingerly with you as if he feared he would wake you, he only had on destination in mind. It does not take long before he is walking towards the center of the small town, houses darkened as the square is full of life. The smell of wine and food waft the cool air.

This only fuels his intentions.

He stands on the fringe of the crowd and it only takes a blink or two before the roaring party dies to deafening silence. People falling to their knees, their foreheads pressed into the bloodied bricks.

“K..Kamisama Kirishima, had we known you would grace…"

"SILENCE!” His voice shakes the very foundations of the homes, the shingles clinking in the wind. The trees quiver in his presence as the Earth seems to roar beneath his feet. His eyes are hard and dark like raw diamonds as he looks over their merriment shredding them with his gaze alone. The moon above suddenly glows red as if washed over with your blood, illuminating him in an ominous tone. The hue paints the village in eerie light as it fully bares witness to the wrath of the mountain God.

“Is this how you honor me?” A rhetorical question as he wonders how long this had been going on, the shades most likely and happily, eating the remains before Kirishima could have ever found out. He shakes, unable to reign in his rage.

“Look at her.” Three words, three words has well over fifty people shivering. Eyes barely coming up to look at the limp woman in his hands, skin already graying. Both eyes now clouded over and lips stained a peculiar red. Their eyes shift to the God they worship, the one they had been giving their most beautiful women too.

He holds eye contact with each and every one of them for a moment, staring into their black souls with a malice that could maim. He spies your mother, his lip snarls as he thinks of your scar.

He begins to wonder if this is why she had done it. He finds the elder, the one who wears the fine kimono. One of the few garments that is not tattered, dirtied or sullied red. He grinds his teeth.

“May you never forget this moment in all of your reincarnations. May you never forget her face and may you always feel an inkling of what I’ve felt.” The people weep, not for their own lives but from the feeling of the God’s heart overflowing in them despite him never shedding a tear. They do not ask forgiveness.

They cannot ask for forgiveness. Just as he sealed your fate all those years ago, he is sealing theirs now. With a stomp of his foot the Earth rumbles, slowly opening up into a jagged mawl. People scream as they reach for one another, grasping onto nothing. Only your mother waits for death silently. Her own tears streaming down her face as she etches into her last moments the sight of her failure. Of you taken from the world too soon.

The village is swallowed whole and now that it is over, he is still unhappy. The void in his cheat is far deeper than the Earthy chasm before him. He cries out in anguish pulling you impossibly closer. A fissure runs through the ground, deep and fast through the next village and the one after that.

In a loud puff of smoke a man appears beside the mountain God, he pulls down his black hood and his hair shines gold in the moonlight. His eyes like molten lava gleam with destructive glee. The Earth threatens to crumble beneath the new God’s feet, the dark chasm glows a bright hot red in his presence.

“No one ever strikes your ire.” His voice is dark yet excited, “And never enough to summon me. Need some pointers from the God of Destruction himself shitty hair?”

“Bakugou, I…” The mountainous man’s voice cracks, causing his friend’s brow to furrow. Bakugou takes in the sight of you withered in hands through ghastly means. Of the decimation and the level of it. Reaching over to another village and possibly the next two. This level of destruction would get the Mountain God into a lot of trouble but it was evident he did not care. Bakugou gives his back to the sight and finally speaks, lying a warm hand on his friend’s broad shoulder.

“If anyone asks, I destroyed the villages.” Molten eyes watch tears fall onto you and the ground beneath his friend’s feet. The golden haired man sighs, gently taking you from the arms of his friend who tries to desperately hold on to what is left of you.

“It’s alright, it’s okay.” A rare comfort from his companion, he takes your small frame and turns. He is going to gently lie you in the cooling Earth. A destruction God destroys in order for something new to be created. He plans to give his only friend a blessed grave for you so he can visit until, what Bakugou hopes but heavily doubts, Kirishima forgets.

“W..wait. wait. She needs…” His voice shatters as with shaking fingers he creates the very thing he had intended for you to have. Good fortune in the shape of deities or wild irises, circling one another to be a stunning crown. Instead of white they glow gold as he sets it atop your crown. Kirishima squeezes your limp hand a final time before letting you go. Bakugou breathes deeply as he works, pulling the ground back together with sheer force as the lava recedes. He does so until the two shelves barely meet, a rich bed of soil lies before his feet. Gently he lies you in the bed of dirt.

“Ashes to ashes.” Your body ignites from within, glowing in a golden flame until there is nothing left but dust on the wind and the golden flower crown. Bakugou pulls the dirt over your remains.

Kirishima falls to his knees, pressing his hand into the Earth, fearful he will forget a mortal like you, a mere blip in his infinite lifetime. The ground beneath him bursts and blooms in great color. All deep reds, golden yellows and blinding whites for miles.

“I will always love you my little flower."

The summer breeze feels warm as it rouses the scent of rain and the sound of chimes. You close your eyes and day dream of something long forgotten, of stories retold from an old book of legend you never read. Nervousness thrums through your veins as you stand beside your ash blonde friend, patiently waiting for the third party to arrive. The impatient man growls beside you as he spots someone he recognizes behind you.

"Oi shitty hair hurry up! Iris and I have been waiting here all damn morning!” Bakugou shouts, using your hero name. You turn to see your new patrol partner for future missions. The sun illuminates behind him, almost giving him a heavenly glow and you realize that there is something odd about the man who approaches you. His long flowing garnet hair is unruly in the wind, shining a red so deep in hue you first mistake it for black. His smile is sharp toothed and easy, causing a swarm of butterflies to take flight in your stomach. With your heart hammering out of your chest you cannot shake the feeling that something seems off about him. It is both other worldly and familiar, you feel as if his name sits on the tip of your tongue. A shiver runs down your spine as his glowing ruby eyes drink you in. He sees a faint mark traveling through your left eye as if it were a fading scar, maybe it was something you could not shake from a past long forgotten. His heart hammers in his chest as he speaks, your reaction to his next words will tell him what he needs to know.

“Hello my little flower, it seems we meet again.”

#kirishima x reader #eijirou kirishima x reader #bnha god au #bnha fantasy au #kirishima eijirou x reader #bnha 18+#bnha kirishima x reader #kirishima god x reader #bnha eijirou #bnha eijiro kirishima

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may-day-voice · 3 years ago

Text

The Meaning of Vengeance to a Thirteen-Year Old

2nd Generation One-Shot

please do not repost, but you have permission to reblog :)

• Watch/ Listen on YouTube: https://youtu.be/ApYodEHIDC0

• Read on Wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/1201853205-2nd-gen-cast-oneshots-the-meaning-of-vengeance-to

• Read on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/35097832/chapters/94054144

The end of the school day couldn’t have arrived any sooner in the eyes of a young man exiting the modest gates of Corusca Private. He hunched with his messenger bag over his shoulder, hands in his pockets while his tall frame passed by many of his fellows with smiles on their faces. Unlike them, he held an aloof scowl, his mind elsewhere while he mindlessly turned to the street, leaving his school without a thought.

Sadly, his reputation preceded him.

“Hey Todoroki!” yelled a student from the gates, watching the tall redhead halt in his stride. “Wanna join us at the arcade?”

The young man turned with his icy blue gaze glazing over the small group of boys by the gates, all huddled together to enjoy an afternoon before reluctantly heading home for the day. “No thanks,” he dryly replied, his expression cold and monotone.

"What? Come on my guy, you said you'd give us another chance to beat your high score," whined one of the group, their eyes anticipating and almost pleading for him to join them.

"You go do that," he responded coldly. A short moment staring at them felt like an eternity waiting for anything more. They were all friends of his, but none that he would ever entrust his deepest thoughts or feelings to. They were of the outer circle variety, a social means in his school, but despite his aversion of growing close to others they had always been warm towards his demeanour. That much he was aware.

Despite the disappointment in some of their faces, they watched a small smirk appear on the tall redhead's lips, his eyes glinting a little with a cockiness about him.

"Photos or it didn't happen," he wagered, stoking a passion amongst the boys with smug grins of their own.

"Yes, Your Highness," they cooed before they went on their way, the group crossing the street towards the arcade close by. The young man frowned a little at the title while he watched the group disappear into the crowd of students who went about their afternoon. The title had stuck due to being proverbially crowned king of the arcade by his group of friends multiple times. It had become a nickname on school grounds, bleeding into the fact that it stirred the pot about his reputation, in and out of public.

Tohru Todoroki was built upon the legacy of his family, from his father and his father's father, and it didn't help that his older brother Haru Todoroki was also making a name for himself. He felt the weight of the world on his shoulders whenever the thought struck, having learnt at a young age about the extent of his family's reputation - good and bad. He was no stranger to the idle chatter and back talk about him specifically, burdened by the opinions of those around him that compared him to certain family members. It only irritated him, silencing those words as quickly as they were uttered. Many learnt quickly how violent his temper was.

Still, it was a usual school day, one that he looked forward to every week when time permitted for him to make the trek towards Aldera Junior High. It became routine every odd day to visit the school, having already grown up around the Pro-Hero circuit and making friends within his father's circles. However, he had also made a compromise to wait outside of the school's gates, soon reaching them and loitering by the brick-laid construction while students exited from the school.

Idling away his time, Tohru went straight onto social media, catching up on the recent news around Musatafu and keeping up with the trends regarding Pro-Hero activity. The usual suspects appeared in his feed, finding Deku making the headlines too often as of late. He would skim past entries of the Number One, finding no interest in the Pro-Hero despite his father being close friends with the man, but a few entries about Shouto had taken centrestage. He wryly pulled at his lips in slight embarrassment at the ridiculous titles of said articles.

Wonder Duo at it Again! Romance & Rescue!

Every so often, Tohru would come across anything revolving around the infamous Shouto also involving you - his mother. A part of him had accepted this fact that the media was oddly obsessed with this romanticised idea about his parents, but the nature of it was blown out of proportion. A read of the articles however would bring a smile to his face, finding that the synchronicity between the both of you was a sight to behold. It only brought back those thoughts of how he was compared, whether against his father, his brother... or his hardly spoken about uncle.

His reputation always preceded him. So much so, that he caught a few whispers from students who spotted him waiting by the gates. He simply ignored them and continued to swipe through his feed, recognising a few names here and there.

It wasn't long for him to find one article that caught his eye, spotting the familiar grenadier bracers in the blurry confines of the image. He immediately read the contents of the event, finding that Ground Zero had single-handedly thwarted a robbery of one of Mustafu's major banks. He intently read the outcomes, paying close attention to details that sparked his excitement in Ground Zero's speed, tenacity, and his well-known explosive power. The sheer force of Ground Zero's Quirk always fascinated him, seeing how a Pro-Hero was able to wield a dangerous force and turn the perspectives and expectations of people's views. To him, Ground Zero was his hero, until he suddenly caught himself with that wide grin on his face.

He sighed inwardly while he shook away his excitement, embarrassed at himself this time for that reaction, before he continued to idle at Aldera Junior High's gates, ignoring the glances of its students.

"Come on, give us a show," bellowed a voice past the gates, catching his ear.

"You think you're so tough because you're Daddy's little girl," sneered another that only forced him to put away his phone back in his pockets.

"Just leave them alone already!" snapped a young voice, the pitch of it almost screeching against her throat.

Tohru grimaced while his scowl deepened at the familiarity of that voice, turning to peer past the brick walls of Aldera Junior High to spot a small huddled group within. Most of the students had already left for the day, but a tall group of boys surrounded a few smaller students, looming over them while one stood before them, her head high and her shoulders rigid while her red glare stood firm. Tohru watched intently, still holding his ground outside of Aldera Junior High.

"What are you gonna do? Blast us?" continued one of the boys, his comment almost spitting on the young girl who stood between them and smaller students behind her.

"Bakugou, let's just leave, okay?" timidly suggested one of the students, tugging at the girl's uniform.

She turned towards the others, seeing their faces filled with a mix of fear and apprehension. However despite their pleading, she softly scoffed before her red eyes turned back onto the boys - the bullies that refused to let this go. She stood as tall as she could, though she was just as small as the rest, her eyes refusing to release their hold on the tall boys before her.

"No, you apologise to them right now!" she reprimanded, her voice wavering a little despite the loudness that projected from it.

Tohru continued to watch the situation unfold while he felt his blood boil. He hated watching any form of injustice occur, especially those toward the girl who stood for the rest. He contemplated entering the school, crossing the threshold of the gates to be at her aid, yet he knew he made this compromise with her to keep him at bay from Aldera Junior High school grounds. He growled under his breath, angered by the boys that surrounded her, for what good is he if he couldn't protect the daughter of his hero.

Aki Bakugou still stood her ground while she stared up towards the boys, hoping that her body despite her size would act as a barrier for the other students behind her. She was only met by mocking laughter while her body trembled, afraid herself for her choices.

"Look, the little princess wants to fight," mocked the largest one of them all, suddenly pushing Aki with a rough shove that almost tripped her over her own feet. She crashed into the other students who immediately caught her fall, but now she was in a heap amongst the others, surrounded by the bullies that jeered and mocked.

Through her tear-filled angry eyes, Aki growled under her breath, hoping that the anger would override the hurt she felt while she stared up at the bullies. No one came to her aid, nor the others while the boys loomed further, their shadows now cast over the students with sinister smiles. Behind their cackles, a sudden heat permeated the air, almost choking that even reached Aki's vicinity. She felt it prick her skin, yet that did not detract from something larger looming behind the bullies, catching one of them unawares.

"Hey, is it getting a little warm?" one boy asked, fanning himself with his hand before he felt a tap on his shoulder. A quick turn was met with a large palm in his face, before an intense wash of flames burst from it, knocking him unconscious. A loud bellow escaped his throat before he crashed to the floor, taking all the students by surprise, except for Aki who stared at the newcomer with his hair masking the glowing ice blue glare he held.

"Todoroki?" she uttered behind her tears.

"What?" exclaimed one of the bullies. "You're kidding me!"

"The Tohru Todoroki?" questioned the other, staring at the boy still with palm in the air from where he blasted one of their own. That heat surrounded them like a suffocating blanket, permeating from Tohru's body like an invisible force. His eyes only stared down at the boys that tormented Aki, his glare cold and uncaring. It made their blood run cold despite the invisible fires that licked from his presence.

"You have to the count of three," slowly warned Tohru with a curdle in his voice, his body unmoving. "One," he started, watching the boys frantically grab their fallen friend. "Two," he continued, eyeing them dragging their friend along, hoping they escaped from his firing range.

"Late," he sneered before he threw his arm, sending off a stream of flames towards the bullies. It only made them run faster, frantically with a surprising amount of strength to take their friend with them over their heads. The sight of Tohru's flames was mesmerising, almost bending light in their invisible cloak that only the trained eye could see during the day. Flickers of it dissipated in the air, leaving only this cool relief once the heat was lifted.

Aki stared up at Tohru, finding his aloof blue eyes on her slightly disappointed. With a nod of his head, he made his way back to the gates, leaving Aki to bid her farewells to whomever she needed before following after him. The walk from Aldera Junior High was quiet for some time, almost awkward while Aki peeked at Tohru's expression every once in a while, hoping to catch glimpses of his thoughts. For some time, she held her tongue until one glance caught his, staring down at her with a raised brow. They both held this gaze for some time before Tohru sighed heavily, his tone nonchalant in his words.

"I knew it," he uttered.

"Huh?" replied Aki, surprised to finally hear Tohru's voice, and less so when his eyes landed back on her.

"How many times have I told you to come to me when you're in trouble? I can tell when something's bothering you, and you've been acting weird for the past week."

"I had it under control," pouted Aki, still standing her ground.

"Didn't look like it," retorted Tohru dryly.

"I didn't want to trouble you with my problems. My problems are mine to deal with."

"You're so stubborn."

"Look who's talking?"

This back and forth was a staple for Tohru while his eyes met Aki's, finding the steadfast look that swam in her gaze while she was on the brink of tears. It was this situation alone that spurred his want to protect her, now afraid to cause any unwarranted and unneeded upsetment on the young girl. He swallowed his tongue, pursing his lips a little with a deep breath to calm himself. If there was one thing he didn't want, it was upsetting Aki. He had already seen enough pain from the unfortunate situations she surprisingly found herself in. Too good of a heart, and yet too stubborn to quit.

He wouldn't think of her less.

Tohru turned to Aki before he flicked her in the forehead playfully. She recoiled with a yelp, rubbing the spot that soon settled from the sudden jolt. Then without a moment to recover, a large hand sat atop her head, rubbing it gently and comforting her from her conflicting feelings and her independent nature.

"Next time bullies like that mess with you again, let me join in on the fun," smoothly offered Tohru, catching Aki's eye while she gazed up into his blue ones, finding that violent mischief in his stare and that wide grin on his face.

"You're weird sometimes," she pouted once more, swiping his hand away from her head.

Tohru couldn't help but chuckle under his breath at her reaction. It was a highlight whenever he could ruffle her a little, gleeful to be in her company every week. Walking through the streets soon was met with something eye-catching atop billboards in the city, spotting a news bulletin displaying live footage of that bank heist Tohru read earlier in his social feed. There emblazoned on the large screens were moments of Ground Zero and his heroics, as destructive as they were.

"Dad's at it again," commented Aki with a sigh, watching the screens along with Tohru. "Wouldn't be surprised if Mum decides on something special tonight."

A nonchalant and blase comment, but nonetheless, Tohru was struck by awe at the sight of Ground Zero in action. Aside from any family gatherings or the like, these news updates were the closest he would ever experience watching his hero. He smiled, his heart full of hope for the future despite the connotations and opinions of others regarding the nature of his Quirk, or his attitude for that matter. After all, if his hero, as brash and violent as he was, could turn the tide within a Pro-Hero capacity—

DING

Tohru's phone caught him unaware in his pocket, drawing his attention from the billboards to find a message from his friends back at Corusca Private. There were two photos - one displaying the newest high score above his own, and the smug smiles on his friends' faces. They even included the new name that took over the scoreboard, finding the letters JKR now the holder of the arcade game. What a joke, he thought, soon violently responding back with a text of his own, after having read their words on his screen.

The Joker stole His Highness' crown today! What will the Prince do?

"Did they beat your high score?" asked Aki, already reading the confused and yet irate look on Tohru's face. "Someone take your crown?"

Her teasing and playful tone only caused further embarrassment for Tohru, afterwards pocketing his phone away to suddenly grab hold of her cheeks. Aki cried out in pain from his own response to her teasing comment, but it was soon replaced with a smile from the young man, earning a flustered pout from Aki herself with her hands against his that now cradled her cheeks.

——

That intervention in Aldera Junior High did not come without its comeuppance for Tohru, now standing opposite the principal's desk. A day or two later came with unimpressed announcements and mediation between involved parties of the confrontation after school, earning Tohru a visit after school hours at Aldera for a formal apology. He believed an apology was unwarranted for what he did. He knew what he did, he even gave the perpetrators warning, but his actions were looked upon with unfavorable opinion. He stared at the principal of Aldera Junior High, her eyes expectant of his next course of action while he swallowed his pride.

"I'm sorry, on behalf of Corusca Private," he apologized with a bow, his eyes aloof and his voice blunt and monotone.

"We accept your humblest apologies," thanked the principal before Tohru took his seat, her eyes now pleased with the immediate result. "And thank you for rectifying this misunderstanding," she continued, her eyes now set on you sitting adjacent to Tohru, still in your Pro-Hero outfit.

"Of course," you simply replied cordially.

"I'd only wished Shouto would be present here. It would mean the world for our students to witness such an impeccable Pro-Hero in their vicinity, especially with his colourful reputation."

Tohru rolled his eyes at the statement, catching a glimpse of the principal's eyes on him. The one thing he hated about legacies was the expectation that trailed after. The so-called rivalry between Pro-Heroes felt like a joke to him, watching how others built their own social standings on the basis and foundations of Pro-Hero popularity. It was overrated in his opinion, knowing that Pro-Heroes and his father alike built themselves for themselves - a trait he admired across the Heroes of today. That word crossed his mind again - reputation. It made him assume the principal's intent about his family's history, as if she were digging a knife further into the chest cavity with a twist. His hands clenched against the arm of the chair he sat in, holding off any residual heat that surely seeped through if he had his way.

"Well, two of your best Pro-Heroes hailed from Aldera," you commented with a smile, catching Tohru's attention on the nuances of your tone and calming the warmth that slowly rose from his presence. "I'm sure there's plenty of that going around for your establishment, especially with young Bakugou still attending here."

"Why yes, absolutely," chirped the principal with a courteous smile.

"And to have us go out of our way for a minor incident is nothing compared to the supervisory board on conduct outside of school grounds."

Tohru eyed your form, sitting tall on the chair with your hands laid before you in your lap. There were certain things he picked up from you on the way you approached conversation with others, whether amongst friends or business colleagues in the field. You upheld courteous and polite conversation at best, but Tohru knew better how you handled underhanded words spoken in your presence. Your tone grew cold through the smile you wore, while your eyes held steadfast on the principal.

"Though my son did respond with the use of his Quirk outside of Quirk-usage jurisdiction, it was in response to a confrontation that involved young Bakugou," you highlighted with emphasis on the situation at hand. "I would have thought Aldera upheld justice much like their former students."

"Well–"

"My son did apologise," you interrupted without giving the principal a chance to breathe. "But his reputation is his own. I'd thought it best that judgement of character was reserved outside of schooling etiquette."

A creak of the chair signaled your motion to leave the office, prompting Tohru to follow suit along with the principal. Tohru still kept his eye on you, observing the way you stood and the way you held your gaze still on the principal, wary of your tongue and regrettably holding theirs.

"You should do well to remember this the next time we find ourselves here again. Perhaps with someone else you'd rather not rub the wrong way," you informed, still with a genial smile that somehow caught the principal off-guard, slightly tense at your opinionated barrage. "I'm glad we did sort out this misunderstanding, but imagine how Ground Zero must feel if he heard otherwise."

With that, you turned to exit the office, once again followed by Tohru who bowed lightly in respect before exiting himself. He trailed after you, a little unnerved and also silent. If not his father, you had been a strong advocate of voicing your opinion when required or needed. Being heard was important, and it was something Tohru instilled in his own life, if not for the rules and regulations getting in the way. Exiting the school was still wrapped in silence while Tohru walked beside you, his bright eyes watching you from their corners.

"Mum–"

"I know why you did it, but you need to reel it in a little," you interrupted, already knowing what Tohru had to say.

A deep sigh escaped his lips, turning away from your gaze but never slowing his step. "Yeah, well, they asked for it," he mumbled under his breath, his scowl turned towards the ground.

You watched him pull a pout on his lips, noticing the slight nuance of embarrassment in his stead. Tohru had always been the problem child, being the youngest but also judged profusely on his Quirk and his attitude. They both came hand-in-hand, smiling inwardly to yourself at the thought of how similar he was to—

"Bakugou would be proud," you muttered under your breath, catching Tohru's ear by curiosity. "About time we get home. Your father has taken the afternoon off to speak with you."

"Mum, I don't need another lecture," whined Tohru, almost droning the words from his lips while he was still in his head. His eyes turned towards the gates, finding two members of his family standing by, one in particular sporting a cheerful smile still in his UA uniform.

"What did you do this time, Tohru?" Piped Haru Todoroki before he ruffled the top of Tohru's head upon approach.

"Get off of me!" barked Tohru, swiping away Haru's hand only to be met by some roughhousing from the older boy.

You walked past the boys before standing by your partner and husband, Shouto Todoroki, still in his Hero outfit after collecting Haru from UA. While both boys continued to roughhouse amongst themselves, Todoroki cleared his throat, immediately halting both of his sons from continuing their childish antics. They both stood upright, standing side by side despite Tohru's inclination to slouch. Todoroki eyed both his sons, his eyes soon drawn to his youngest whose own blue eyes caught his.

"What you did was wrong," he started, earning Tohru's eyes to break away from his gaze. "But why you did it holds weight in the matter. I spoke to Ground Zero about the incident, and he's impressed."

Tohru's eyes lit up at the mention of his Hero's name, and more so on the fact that his Hero knew the situation.

"Unless you focus on your studies, he offered to take you on patrol for a sneak peek into what he does," bargained Todoroki, his aloof gaze watching Tohru's excitement light up inside. "As a thank you for looking out for Aki."

Tohru couldn't believe what he heard. To be in the presence of Katsuki Bakugou as Ground Zero felt like a once in a lifetime opportunity.

"Congratulations brother," warmly piped Haru, smirking at his younger brother earnestly.

"But don't take Bakugou lightly," warned Todoroki. "He can be... difficult to work with."

"Bakugou, well, Ground Zero is happy to take you next week, so long as you keep up with your grades," you added with a gentle smile and a slight stern tone. "And no more confrontations between now and then."

"Yes Mum," droned Tohru with respect before he turned to his father. "Thanks Dad."

A glimmer of a smile appeared on Todoroki's lips, soon in turn spotting a smug smirk on Tohru's. Everything that happened in the mundane felt like paper-thin weights dispersing into the breeze. Tohru attempted to contain the excitement, but his mind was blank, content that he could possibly spend a day in his Hero's shoes, figuratively speaking. He couldn't tell whether it was because of his father's somewhat friendly connection with the man, or if it was due to his recent mishap on Aldera grounds, but Tohru felt lighter and happier.

It was one tiny step towards building his own mark in the world.

#2nd Generation #bnha #bnha fanfiction #bnha au #todoroki #shouto todoroki #shoto todoroki #tohru todoroki #todoroki x reader #only a little #oneshot

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