#hero: flame thrower

[screamingwiththewolves]

to debate as to whether Hyde is actually at fault for the London fire is kind of funny to me.

Like on one had, yes, there is certainly a discussion there about Hyde's recklessness contributing to the flame thrower showing fire from the skys...

BUT ON THE OTHER HAND-

Imagine, a dude rocks up to your house with a flame thrower, threatens you and your friends/family, then during the scuffle to defend your home, you knock the weapon out of his hand, it explodes, and YOU GET BLAMED FOR THE INCIDENT!

DUDE, I'D BE PISSED! XD

[bonsubear]

You're Dead Everywhere But Here │ Invincible Variants x Female! Reader x Mainstream Invincible │#4

#1, #2, #3, #4, #?

CW: ooc, violence, mild gore

WC: 8k

You tried to use the Invincible variant that was holding you as a stepping stool to give you a jumping leap, but he quickly acted as he grabbed a hold of the heel of your foot.

You yelped in surprise, not expecting a quick reaction as you slipped and fell downwards. Not wanting you to fall, he used his free arm to wrap around your leg to catch you.

You were now dangled upside down in the air, pressed against the variant's muscular body.

You grunted, straining your neck to lift your head away from Mask’s legs so you wouldn't be smothered against them. You pressed against his knees using your hands to create more distance from the lower part of his body, extremely displeased at this bad positioning.

"Wait, wait a minute!" He stumbled; his voice was close to a begging tone as he had a firm but soft grip on you. It was evident that Mask didn't want to hurt you, though you didn't care as you thrashed wildly against his hold, wanting nothing more than to get away from the man.

Trying to loosen the grip he had was strenuous with how this positioning actively worked against you, making it hard to get out of.

It felt like you were a fish caught by a hook—no matter how much you struggled his grip didn’t let up. Hell, it felt like the more you did the more he made sure to hold you even tighter.

"Fucking shit! —Let go of me!" You yelled through gritted teeth as you tried to look up as you kicked your legs wildly, though it was difficult to do so with how close your two bodies were.

"Just listen to me, I won't hurt you—I want to help you!"

You clicked your tongue, shaking your head. "I am not finding out what your sick definition of help is!" You retorted, refusing to even play with the idea of hearing what this blue and black variant had to say.

It would be a very stupid and bad decision to spend one more second with this Invincible variant, especially with how "great" the previous interactions with the others were.

It was really absurd, incredibly ridiculous, and absolutely infuriated you to your core. Being caught off guard and captured, then thrown into a dingy prison basement, and then to top it all off being used as an asset against your will was already upsetting.

But it didn't just stop there��your supposed opponents that the G.D.A told you to fight were some deranged, mentally ill freaks that wanted nothing more to push their delusions onto you because they apparently had a relationship with—well, you?

When you went searching for Invincibles to kill and find the perfect murder method for your own Invincible, you were expecting a fight. A brutal, disastrous fight where you were crowned victorious in the end.

That’s how all fights go—how all fights should go. It was the basic formula known to man.

Instead, it was some big reunion where they all drooled over you like a bunch of slobbery dogs looking at their long-lost favorite toy.

You would’ve rather been beaten to death then ever go through that again!  

Each fiber of your being wanted to run away and come back with a flame thrower to kill each single one of them, exterminating their annoying asses to guarantee you’ll never see them again.

Especially that black and yellow degenerate.

"Okay, okay!" He panicked, "I can see how this looks but you have to trust me!" Mask desperately pleaded, a whine scratching at the back of his throat as you continued to fight against him. "I got you away from the others, they're way worse—"

"Oh!" You rolled your eyes, a scoff quick to escape your throat. "My hero, my hero! Thank you so much for rescuing me!"

You clasped your hands together, each word dripping in sarcasm. "Say, what do you want as your reward? Money?" You asked before pausing for dramatic effect. You let out a wild fake gasp. "Oh, of course not! Me, right?"

Mask was taken aback with that witty response, defensive words choking in his throat as his cheeks heated up underneath his black mask. "No! (Y/N)—No, I—that's not what's happening!"

You furrowed your brows, digging your fingernails in his knees. "Either way, I don't want to fucking know what is happening!" You replied, spitting out the curse word with venom.

You brought your head close to his leg, opening your jaw wide. You clamped your teeth down hard, making sure to make it hurt as much as it can. Your teeth sunk into his skin through the thin layer of spandex, the soft sensation yet sturdy muscle meeting your mouth.

The Invincible variant gasped in shock, not expecting the sharp sensation of your teeth to dig inside his leg. His grip loosened, allowing you to finally wiggle out of his grasp.

Even though his mind didn't know how to react to this, his body certainly did. His foot jerked to your face, and before you could raise your hand to block it his foot already contacted the top of your forehead.

It was immediate, and your head swung backwards from the kick.

It didn't take you long for you to hit the ground, the road splitting in half as you were smacked to the ground—rolling like an unstoppable boulder.

You crashed into a fire hydrant that stopped your momentum, but at a consequence of it busting open and water gushing out everywhere. The water sprayed on the ruined road, the cracked sidewalk, and onto you.

Your prison jumpsuit quickly became soaked with water from the broken fire hydrant, the loose fabric sticking to your skin making it hug your silhouette.

At first, Mask didn't realize what he had done—watching you crash into the fire hydrant not registering that he had been the one to be the cause. When he finally realized, he was fast to descend down.

"I'm, I'm so sorry I didn't mean to kick you like that, I don't even know why I—are you okay?!" He hurriedly rushed to your side, crouching as his eyes looked at your forehead that was forming a noticeable bump.

Water still escaped from the fire hydrant, but it turned into a light lawn spray as he looked at you.

Your eyes hazily opened, pushing yourself up using your elbows. You slapped a hand on your forehead, your brain feeling like it shifted with how hard the kick was. You winced, jumping at how there was already a bump forming.

The variant next to you was repeating apologies, reciting them like scriptures. You couldn't really pay attention, your blurry vision taking their time to adjust as your hearing made everything around you, particularly Mask's voice, sound like white noise.

"—let's get you somewhere safe," Mask hurriedly looked around before landing his eyes on you again, "someone might've heard that. We have to go." He spoke with urgency, placing a careful hand behind your back.

Your blurry vision quickly became clear, and hearing returned to your ears, your healing properties finally kicking in and fixing the damage that had been done to you. The bump that was rapidly swelling on your forehead also died down, returning to the same level as the rest of your skin.

You blinked, your eyes finally trailing to the Invincible variant.

He was too close for comfort, and you tensed as you felt the hand that was cupped on your back. Your gaze moved to his face, and his goggles were completely void of glass besides the small remnants that edged the outline.

His brown eyes were on full display, and they looked deeply into yours as if they were the only thing worth peering into. It was clear as day how much blind affection, softness, and worry filled those eyes.

It made your skin crawl to be viewed with so much tender emotions for so many reasons, one of them being that you knew it wasn't directed towards you. It was someone else who was a different version of you that got to experience another life than the one you have currently.

You felt like a second rate to some weaker version of you that died. A version of you that didn't even have powers.

Though you guess if you had to admit you were a speck jealous. Those versions of you probably had normal lives, normal hobbies, normal jobs—normal everything. Even if their life wasn’t that pretty, it probably was better than what your life was right now.

Although that small trace of jealousy disappeared as soon as you remembered they had the misfortune of dating Invincible. The Invincible variants were whack, crazy, and probably made their lives a living hell.

You grimaced and shrunk away as he reached a hand out to you, aiming to caress your forehead with his blue gloves. Your face contorted into a glare, your hand flying to secure his wrist and fling him behind you like he weighed nothing but a grain of salt.

Mask was flung inside an empty cafe, breaking through the brick wall and through the marble counter. A pot of cold coffee that was abandoned at the workstation during evacuation fell on his shoulder, pouring out and staining the side of his suit.

You pulled yourself up, the soaked clothing making you shiver uncomfortably. I need to change out of this.

You looked around to see where you were. Even though the surrounding buildings and structures were decimated and resembled more of an apocalypse than a functioning city—you thankfully were able to recognize what part of Chicago you were in.

You squinted, trying to jog your memory. You had made secret deserted spaces that people and the city itself forgot existed as hide outs, places for you to retreat and hide from whenever you were finished doing your routine destruction and "rough housing" with civilians.

That's how you were able to run and disappear so fast whenever superheroes tried to capture you during your "hobby". It was funny hearing them frustrated and angry when you slipped away, their muffled voices coming behind the entrance of one of your many hideouts whenever they walked past one.

At least, that's how it used to be. Other superheroes seemed to have moved on from you, the only super showing up to stop your reenactment of Godzilla movies on the city before being locked up behind bars was Invincible.

...

It was odd, honestly.

To totally toot your own horn, even though you were a regular menace and an everyday pain in the ass that everyone became "use" to—you were still that, a menace.

You knew that the secret organization sent any hero near your vicinity to deal with you before you could cause any more indirect casualties—but they seemed to have changed their mind one day and only sent Invincible.

Sure, he stopped you each time—but it must’ve not been efficient to send him every time with how quick you were to get to wrecking. There was no way he was the closest to you every single time with how you made sure to pick different spots to remain unpredictable.

If you didn't know any better, it felt like he called dibs on you.

You couldn’t help but think that because there were multiple times where he unknowingly stood near a concealed hideout you were in. It was easy to eavesdrop him conversing with himself, overhearing mutters and incoherent whispers.

His mutters were always along the lines of hoping you were okay, that you'd heal and recover quickly, that he hoped he made a good impression this time, and something about how he should stop running to you?

You got a slow, sinking feeling form into your stomach as you thought more about this world's Invincible.

He was always weird, treating you differently from other villains. You always chalked it up to be a potential hero complex, all superheroes having some mild form of it. That’s what you theorized, anyway.

Saving the city, saving civilians—it's inevitable that a shiny new hero thinks they can save a villain from the mess they are.

It wasn't the first time a super thought they could change you, "fix" you for the better. You always spat out a harsh refusal over and over again until they finally gave up. It was easy, just be an insensitive prick and they wished the kind words they spoke to you were punches instead.

Invincible was the longest, being stubborn about offering you redemption and friendship no matter how much you drilled it into him that you won't budge.

You literally beat it in him with each encounter, but he would show up once again with a smile whenever you were out and about.

You became used to seeing him, even with how annoyed you were each time. It became familiar to just randomly turn around and see him staring at you while you were punching holes inside a building, like a shadow waiting to be acknowledged.

However, he was still a good guy—at least, you think. Experiencing these different versions of him made your head wonder if he had more interest in you than he should have beyond just the potential hero complex and annoying moves for friendship.

It seemed like all his variants so far did, having some sort of romantic relationship with your counterparts. You didn't want to think it but—did your Invincible hold some sort of affection for you?

Of five variants of five realities, Invincible liked you in each one of them.

What's to say this reality was any different in that regard?

What's to say that he didn't view you more than a criminal?

What's to say that your Invincible wasn't like them?

You swallowed thickly, forcing yourself to snap out of your train of thoughts.

That just wouldn't make sense, Invincible viewing you in a romantic way. It just logically wouldn't. You treated him lower than dirt more times than you can count—he'd have to have his own form of delusion to form lovey dovey thoughts for you.

You had to hold out hope that your Invincible was a good, weird, but normal superhero. If the Invincible variants were searching for you—you needed help getting them off your back until this war blows over somehow.

"Don't fucking touch her!" You heard Mask shout, and you turned around to see what he was screaming at. As you did, you were met face to face with an Invincible variant that had sneaked up behind you. They wore a similar get up to your Invincible's suit, but they had washed out colors and bigger goggles.

Your eyes widen, looking behind the newly appeared variant to see Mask approaching fast with his arms out. You were fast to sidestep, the newly appeared variant getting pushed to the ground where you previously stood.

You heard someone land behind you, and you turned around in a defensive stance to see that another Invincible variant had shown up.

Before he could get the chance to say anything, you jumped at him—socking him in the jaw. Twisting on your heel, you used the small momentum to kick his side. The variant was kicked to the ground, the wind knocked out of him.

You jumped backwards, your back hitting someone else's. You looked over your shoulder to see that it was Mask, his fists raised ready to fight the variant he had roughly pushed aside.

Shifting your head to look at the sky. There were two more variants that were preparing to throw themselves at you, both having different versions of the yellow and blue Invincible suit that strayed far from the original.

You clicked your tongue, pressing your back further into Mask's as you knew if you fought them all by yourself, you'd be in deep shit. "If you're serious about helping me—then you'll help me get out of this alive. Then you'll fuck off and leave me alone."

"I can do the first one but..." His voice was muffled behind his mask, hesitance clear in his voice. His brown eyes flickered behind him, your hair in his view and the press of your back sending shivers down his spine.

Mask breath wavered, forcing himself to tear his gaze away from you to refocus on the Invincible variant that was picking themselves up from the floor.

"I won't do the second one. I'm sorry. I'm not leaving you."

Mark huffed, trying to fight off the exhaustion that was threatening to overtake his body. He didn't know how long he was fighting these evil versions of him, but it must've been less than an hour with how the sky didn't shift to a different hue at all.

They were doing a number on him and to each other with how they were all strained in some way. Ragged breathing, minute slower movements, and taking any opportunity to catch themselves before jumping back into the chaotic fight.

The only variants that didn't seem completely worn out were Viltrum and Sinister—but even then, the two seemed out of it like the rest of them were.

"Are you kidding me with this bullshit!" Mohawk Mark screeched, his snarky voice making every variant pause. "Why the fuck are you fighting us?" He pointed, hovering next to Omni-Mark whose red cape was half torn.

Mark jumped, not expecting everyone to collectively stop fighting to look at who Mohawk was pointing at—which was him.

They all took in Mohawk's words, being interested to know the answer to his question. Either that or they were taking advantage of the rare stillness.

"What, what do you think!" He stuttered out, his voice squeezing as his body became more agitated than it already was. Mark felt on edge, like each nerve of his body was exposed. "You all think that you can just kidnap (Y/N)! She doesn't belong to either of you!"

"She doesn't belong to you either." Omni pointed out, his eyes narrowing at Mark with haughtiness. "Please, remind me again, what relationship do you two have?" He quipped, tilting his head in amusement.

Mark felt a lump form in his throat, his whole body feeling like someone had just ripped off his skin. Being reminded that these evil versions of him had something that he didn't have was painful—like he was being punished.

To add more salt to the wound that the red and white variant had opened, Mohawk jumped at the opportunity to rub it in Mainstream Mark's face on what he didn't have and ever got to experience—you.

"She was my girlfriend—got together senior year of high school and continued dating when she went to college." He let out an airy laugh, gesturing at the lower part of his body with both hands. "Suck it."

Viltrum took the surprise pause of the fight to add in his own relationship with you, tone flat but lighthearted—an invisible smile on his lips. "She was my wife. I met her the first time I went to Earth on the rooftop of her apartment complex."

His eyes flickered to the punk-style Invincible, the mention of college making him remember something. "... It was after she dropped out."

Sinister laughed, a playful grin gracing his lips. "Pfft, those are stupid. My bunny was an inspiring journalist who wanted to bring me to 'justice'—oh, how it was practically destiny that she landed herself to be my plaything." His hands twitched, thinking back on the first time he met you.

A smug, almost shit eating grin danced on his lips. "I could tell it made her feel alive, even through her senseless wailing. No matter how hard she tried to hide it, that bitch enjoyed me as much as I enjoyed her."

Omni shook his head, waving his hand as if all the words that the others spoke were meaningless. "She was my pet, the only perfect thing that could be my wife.

His lip quirked upwards, recalling the first time he saw you. "It was a long process to domesticate her, but it was worth everything." He chuckled before his smile faltered, transitioning to a frown.

"Oh, and we had a child together." He shrugged his shoulders before continuing, speaking casually like it was nothing too extraordinary.

He seemed displeased to have remembered that fact, his expression turning sour. "Shame there wasn't much use for it. Got in my way more than being convenient."

Mark choked on nothing when he heard that, his soul feeling like it got kicked out of his body as he tried to recover from the shock.

He burned his stare in the variant that resembled the suit his father once wore like he had just grown two heads.

"Child? —Child?!" He screamed, shaking his head as his mind was swirling with all this information that hit him at once.

Viltrum huffed hearing that, avoiding looking at Omni. "(Y/N) and I would've produced a child eventually." He murmured, defending himself like it was some sort of competition to who hit more milestones with you.

"Ugh, that's pointless! Why have a child?" Sinister rolled his eyes, thinking that it was absolutely absurd that his counterparts would think of having an offspring. His posture was relaxed as he voiced his thoughts. "Her body should only be available to me, not something else."

He hummed, as if agreeing with Sinister, "It was a good enrichment for a while, then the thing got annoying." Omni explained. "Didn't want to keep it around anymore."

"Anymore? The fuck that's supposed to mean?" Mohawk questioned, both hands settled on his hips. With how he phrased it, he didn't think it was farfetched to assume that his counterpart did something horrible to the child.

Omni-Mark stayed silent, not responding as he crossed his arms. That earned a raised brow from Mohawk, suspicion surfacing through his sharp features.

Mark finally snapped out of his shell shock, interrupting the variants' small conversation. "Fine, maybe I don't have a relationship with her like you guys had." He began reasoning, his eyes blinking fast behind his lens.

"But that doesn't mean I don't care about her, that doesn't mean I don't want her just as much as you all do—probably even more!" He gestured, shaking his head frantically as he raised the volume of his voice the more he continued his speech.

"I want to be close to her, I want her to be mine, I want her to..." His voice died down, closing his eyes before opening them again, "to feel for me like I do for her." Mark confessed in a hushed tone.

The words escaped from him faster than he could think of them. "I like her." He admitted, the complicated feelings that he had dealt with for so long surfacing brightly without being pushed down into the void of denial.

It was like a wave of clarity washed over him, crashing down on him so unexpectedly.

The first time he saw you, intense feelings bubbled up in him that he never experienced before. It only became worse the more he saw you, being consumed with the feelings that overtook his thoughts.

Mark Grayson began secretly begging the world to let him hear that you're out there so he can chase after you—the light at the end of the tunnel that only shows itself every once in a while.

Whenever he was with you, it was like his whole body was alive. He never felt like he ever truly lived before meeting you, each part of him waking up as soon as your presence basked his soul and body like sunlight.

It didn't make sense, there was no rhyme or reason why he felt this way. It was so wrong, but so endearingly right.

It felt so right just to be near you, look at you with so much affection and adoration that it was unmeasurable.

He drowned in thoughts about you that hijacked his mental space, each nook and cranny of his mind tied to you somehow. Each time he resisted and pulled away; he rushed back in with a tighter grip than before.

This pull never happened with Amber, his first girlfriend and the first person he'd ever been intimate with. As well as confess his superhero identity.

He liked her—loved her, cared for her and had feelings for her, but it wasn't the same. She just wasn't you.

Amber didn’t make him feel like his whole life purpose was fulfilled by just watching you do whatever, tracking your movements like he was writing them down in the folds of his brain. The physical contact he received from you, mostly violently, didn’t cause his body to soak up each centimeter of it like it was starved for it.

That subconsciously seeped into their relationship. He put so many things above Amber, missing so many places that she wanted him to be present because he was her boyfriend. He put their relationship on pause countless times to be a superhero, saving the world and saving lives—it was hard to drop it for her.

Though it came easy when it was for you, not for Amber.

Then there was Eve. She was a great person, helping Mark to understand what it truly was to be a superhero. She was there by his side and understood the hardships that the world relentlessly threw at him, giving him an open shoulder to talk about his problems.

It made sense their natural friendship blended into something more. She pulled him in—but not in the same way.

Eve didn't compare to you, not even close. Mark wanted her to, grounding himself and swallowing down this claim that she was the one—his girlfriend, his everything, his.

Everything else came secondary when it came to Eve. That was until he heard you were out there again instead of safely locked away, and suddenly it became easy to leave Eve behind when he was so adamant about staying with her.

He was so immersed in so many things and with Eve that when you were in that cell made by the G.D.A, his mind didn't wander to you so frequently anymore.

Mark didn't have to worry about the next time he'll see you again, always constantly on his feet ready to fly over to you.

Mark didn't have to worry about whether the last time he saw you was the final one, paranoid that you'll suddenly disappear without a trace, the chance to earn a mutual connection with you completely gone.

Mark didn't have to worry because he knew where you were and knew you were okay, safe, alive, and waiting. When things slowed down, he planned to visit you and show you that it was okay to give him a chance.

He wanted—no, he needed to earn your trust, earn your interest. That he could change your mind about rejecting him, even if it meant being a broken record that was on repeat.

Since, in truth, he wanted you to be his from the start.

It was unreasonable, illogical, but it felt more right than wrong. It was stupid, fucking pathetic even just like how Cecil said—but Mark couldn't help it. He tried to deny it for so long, but he couldn't anymore. It was impossible to.

It was love at first sight with you, and he wasn't going to let you get taken away. Mark wanted you to be his, and he'd push everything and everyone aside to get that opportunity.

He raised his voice again, stern and firm. "And I'm not going to let any of you take her just because you all failed at your chance. You don't get to have do overs with my (Y/N)."

"Aw, cute!" Mohawk mocked, lifting a hand to form a mouth puppet. "Practiced that speech of yours with good ol' buddy right hand?" He let out a forced coo, turning his mouth puppet into a circle—going up and down in a slow motion.

That earned a hearty chuckle from Sinister, but not Viltrum or Omni. It also didn't get a peep out of Mask either, not a single word coming from the masked Invincible variant.

"You almost sound as corny as—" He whipped his head around, searching for Mask who seemed to be not present. His mischievous grin dropped, and the others followed suit in looking around to spot the missing variant.

There were supposed to be five among them, yet there were only four. The yellow and black variant's relaxed posture disappeared as soon as the absence of one of them was brought to his attention, spinning around to confirm that the other's presence was truly not there.

"Jesus, where the fuck is the other one." Sinister growled, snapping his head to the direction of your body. He zoomed past, the others lagging behind to search for your unconscious body.

Mark drifted behind, his heart leaping to his throat.

The place where you were supposed to be—empty. Dried blood and the broken metal fragments of the collar were the only things there, greeting their eyes.

It didn't take a genius to piece together what happened, and it enraged Sinister how foolishly easy it was to sneak off with you.

Sinister fists clenched, screeching at the top of his lungs at a random direction. "You're dead!" His growly voice carried out, dragging his words across the distance.

Viltrum's hand grabbed a hold of the end of Omni's cape, draping it over his neck and pulling it towards him tightly. "Where did he take her." He spat out, eyes darkening as he tugged at the red cape he was using to strangle the variant.

Omni had quickly dug his fingers in between the space of the cape and neck, ensuring that he wouldn't be asphyxiated. "Your guess is as good as mine." He grunted, bringing his head forward before swinging it backwards—smacking Viltrum's face.

The white uniformed variant let go of his hold, and Omni-Mark whipped around to punch him in the chest, knocking him a few inches away.

"There goes the 'alliance!' Not that it was going to last long anyway. Ugh! He could be anywhere in this shithole." Mohawk grumbled; displeasure written on his face with how a deep frown embedded itself on his lips.

Suddenly, all the variants had something thrown at them, pushing them to the ground. A large wall from the collapsed building nearby was on top of them, the heavy weight grounding and crushing them.

Mark floated above them, having gone and grabbed a fallen chunk of a structure to pin them down. It wasn't going to delay them by much, but it gave him a running head start.

Each second counted to go searching for you and find the Invincible variant that stole you from right under his nose.

He propelled himself forward, flying in a random direction. His hair was pushed back as the wind howled against him; his forehead furrowed. Mark brought his hand to his ear, holding the earpiece that Cecil had given him.

"Donald? Donald are you there?" He asked while looking down, flying above structures. The city had been bulldozed by his evil counterparts, making it look more like a salvage yard rather than an international hub.

"-Uh, yes. I've—I've been here the entire time." Donald jumped, clearing his throat. He was surprised at being suddenly addressed, having been silent this entire time.

He had been observing safely at headquarters, watching through the screen. While the cameras themselves didn't have audio, Mark, having an earpiece, allowed him to finally listen to something.

Donald had been overhearing this entire time, and he had begun to think that the superhero had forgotten he was there. He felt out of place, and he couldn’t possibly interrupt him to remind Mark of his presence. He was saying vulnerable things that seemed rude to cutoff.

"Can you try and find (Y/N)?" Mark queried, scanning the streets below him for any sign of you.

He could care less that Donald may have overheard everything he said—it didn't matter. The time was ticking, and he was not going to leave you alone with your kidnapper nor let some other Invincible find you first.

"Mark I-" Donald shook his head, beginning to speak before being brashly interrupted.

"I don't give a shit what you have to say Donald! Just tell me if you can try and find her or not!" He snapped, his question shifting more into a demand.

Each letter of his words was as sharp as a blade, coming out of the blue which shocked the older man.

A static silence overcame the intercom, and Mark back tracked on his words. He didn't mean for it to come out so harsh. "I'm—I'm sorry Donald that's not what I meant. I didn't mean to-" He sucked in an unleveled breath, "Can you try and find her? Please?"

"... Sure thing, Mark."

You hissed, pulling your hand out of the esophagus that you had forcefully slid your hand into. You ripped the tube out, throwing it aside as the Invincible variant fell on his knees—clawing at the gaping hole in his neck.

The blood gushed out like a geyser as you took a step back, your chest rising and releasing a huff.

Your hair was a mess, tangled and mangled together from fighting the Invincible variants that tried their hardest to take you down and submit to them. They were relentless, and you were grateful that Mask mitigated the fight—doing his part and killing two eviler versions of himself.

You looked over to Mask, the variant lunging a rusty metal bar that he got from a hanging sign inside the chest cavity of his opponent. It hit straight to his pumping heart, a gritted gasp escaping their throat before the light in their eyes disappeared.

Small muscle memory jerks remained, but it died down as Mask dug the metal bar harder—twisting it for good measure. He then pulled it out effortlessly, a string of thick blood and cartilage following as he threw it aside.

Comparing yourself to him, you probably looked like absolute shit. There was hardly any blood on him, the only liquid there being was the dried coffee stain and the damp areas of his suit from the fire hydrant.

You, on the other hand, were covered in sticky blood. Your neck was painted in a deep shade of red, it dripped down from your neck to the collar of your prison uniform. It looked like a badly botched tie dye job, minus the metallic smell that made your skin crawl.

The tips of your hair were dipped in the liquid of death as well, the affected hair forming clumps at the end and hardening.

You hated killing—not because of a moral compass, merely because of the smell that made your stomach feel absolutely sick. You could never avoid making a huge mess, so your face was always met with the waft of blood exposed to oxygen.

You breathed heavily as you blinked to look around. All four variants who tried to jump you and Mask were dead, the one you just killed on the ground—the blood gushing out of his throat formed a puddle.

You swallowed, putting your hands on your knees to catch a breath. The odor of blood seeped into your nostrils, and you gagged as your stomach was not taking too kindly to that smell. It felt like you were going to throw up with how it twisted and swished.

“Do you feel sick?” Mask softly asked, hopping off the variant he had just shoved a rod through their chest.

He surveyed the slaughter you both caused, mentally noting the splattered blood along the concrete. “It’s because of the blood, isn’t it?”

You gagged once again, bringing a hand to pinch the tip of your nose. “Kind of.” You replied bluntly, not elaborating more on it.

“The odor I’m guessing?” He continued, and you gave him a funny glance. Mask rushed to explain, “In my world, you also hated the smell of blood. It always made you feel nauseous—I got good at not getting too much on me because of that." He laughed, trying to lighten the mood.

"Ding ding ding." You clapped lazily. "Never been a fan of it. It makes me want to projectile vomit everywhere."

"You did one time. It was on me though." He joked, but not really. It did actually happen when he rushed to the hospital after a fight because he promised to visit you at a specific time.

Mask had forgotten to change out of his blood-soaked suit with how panicked he was to arrive on time. The moment he appeared by your side from entering the window, the metallic smell hit your nose, and you puked all over him without sparing a second to register to face somewhere else.

"I won't do the second one. I'm sorry. I'm not leaving you."

Mask's words echoed in your mind, and you mentally rolled your eyes at the reminder. The only reason why he wanted to stick around was because he wanted to project the variant version of you onto you—all of the variants did.

It was annoying. However, with how more docile and suppressed he was compared to the others, you had the chance to break this illusion of his. It wasn't the first time you've successfully pushed someone away.

You bit your tongue, feeling a dry laugh threatening to escape. "Guess all I did there was be sick and puke on you. Very romantic." You sarcastically responded, looking over to see how the masked variant would react to what you're going to say. "With how weak she was, she should've died sooner."

"..."

"Honestly, she managed to pull the short stick of our childhood." You bitterly mentioned, a small flashback to your childhood played in your mind. "If whatever illness I had didn't take me immediately, I would’ve just done it myself. That would've been the best option."

"..."

"Not only was she weak, but she was also stupid too apparently." You added, continuing to watch how he'd react to your words. His eyes were boring into yours, and you didn't peel away from them as you simply glared.

You were ready to dodge anything he threw at you or came at you with, expectantly waiting to move your legs to dodge an incoming fist.

A second passed, then another, then another.

“... Haha!” He suddenly burst into a small fit of giggles, raising a hand to cover his mouth. Startled, you flinched, your eyes turning wide at this unexpected reaction. You couldn’t gauge if this was some kind of ploy to catch you off guard so he can hit you by surprise, but the more he laughed the more confused you got.

“Is something wrong with you?” You asked annoyed, not understanding why he was laughing. His giggles were dying down, and he brought his hand back down to his side. “You found that funny?” He shook his head frantically, taking a few steps towards you.

“No, no. I just—even though your different from my world you’re still the same.”

You scoffed, taking his statement as a lie. “Bullshit.”

“No, you are! When we first met,” Mask took your hand, cupping it into his. You jumped, but didn’t pull away as you were curious to what he had to say. “You said something so similar about yourself. Looking back on it, you were trying to drive me away.”

He sighed, “You thought that if you pushed out all the worst traits of yourself, no one would want to stick around.” he said in a low voice, almost recalling it in a fond. His thumb brushed gently over your knuckles, as if trying to soothe a wild animal.

The smooth texture of his gloves sent goosebumps down your spine, causing you to tense. I’m not listening to this. You thought, but his gaze held your body firmly into place, like a nail driven in wood.

"You were wrong, though," he whispered. "It just made me stay longer."

Your breath hitched, your heart squeezing at those words.

You yanked your hand back instinctively, your heart hammering against your ribs in an uneven rhythm. "Don't say shit like that," you snapped, your voice cracking halfway through the sentence. "You don't know me."

“I do.”

“No, you don’t!” You screamed, shaking your head. You stepped away from him, needing the distance like air in your lungs, "I'm not the same as her, I’m different," you muttered, your voice quieter, heavier now. "I'm stronger, I’m powerful—I’m worse."

He tilted his head, the smile slipping away from his face, replaced by something that looked almost like sadness. Not that you could tell with the mask that covered it, but his eyes expressed it. "Maybe you are," he agreed after a moment. "But I’m happy to learn.”

Shut up.

“I love each part of you, even the worse ones."

You stood there frozen, caught between cursing at him and lunging at him—but you did neither. You just stared at him, words caught in your throat and your hands flexing not knowing what to do.

Finally, you turned on your heel, going to the direction of the nearest hideout you owned. “Come on, we need to go.” You called out, walking without checking to see if he was following.

“We?” He repeated, hope filled in his voice as he quickly trailed behind you. Not bringing attention to the fact you dismissed everything he had just said, not bothered by it.

“Don’t misunderstand anything! This is momentary. I’m tired, exhausted, and clearly can’t think straight with how I’m even letting you tag along!” You grumbled; eyes stuck stared ahead. “You’re protecting me from whatever lunatic of an Invincible we come across.”

“I—”

“And don’t talk.” You whipped around, causing him to halt in his steps. “It lessens the chances of you saying stupid crap,” you hissed, referencing his whole cringe speech, “oh and, ten steps back when you’re walking with me—I don’t want you humping my leg.”

“Got it!” He happily chirped, overjoyed just to see you were allowing him to be with you without telling him to fuck off.

“Ughhh, shut up!” You swiveled back around, walking in a faster pace than before. You heard him begin walking at the distance you commanded him to follow, and you dug your nails in the palm of your hand.

This was stupid—you were going back on your word about how bad it was to spend one more second with this variant, yet here you were letting him follow you to your hideout. You wanted to pull your hair out with how you should be telling him to screw himself and to get lost, but you bit your tongue as you merely continued strolling.

Even worse, your cheeks were a tad warm. You hated what he said seemed to affect you. You tried to ignore how your heart was softly rattling against your chest, taking deep inhales and exhales to calm it.

Maybe the forced proximity of being near crazy variants were beginning to rub off their lunacy onto you, making your headspace cloudy.

At least it was only down to one.

An Invincible was standing on the roof of a building, peering down the alleyway that you and Mask were walking in.

He wore an exact replica of this world’s Invincible suit; the one small difference was the fact his gloves were blue at the end of his knuckles. The male also didn’t have the mask on, blood scattered on his face and chest.

His eyes were downcast, his hand over the other, holding it as he stared at you.

It was a way to self-soothe himself, no longer having his favorite person in the whole world to hold his hand anymore. His heart ached at that, breaking more than it already was.

His eyes burned thinking back on how his partner was forever gone—he’ll never see that handsome face ever again, the witty personality, and the easygoing jokes that always made him feel better.

The Invincible would’ve started crying if he hadn’t already squeezed out each tear already. He didn’t think he’d be able to produce any more with how hollow he felt, completely dried out.

He continued to watch intently, having witnessed the brutality you caused minutes prior. He didn’t mean to come across the scene, having been just wandering around aimlessly after doing the orders that Angstrom had instructed him and many others to do.

The variant had stayed silent, watching from a safe distance. He hadn’t expected to find you here, but he supposed it made sense.

The Invincible had been preoccupied thinking about his special one that his mind didn’t think to remind him about you until now.

You were special too. A good, dear friend. You were the second person to truly understand him and be by his side through everything. Accepting who he was and supporting him.

Guilt and grief swelled in his chest as he found himself hovering to you just a few feet away. You were completely unaware of the presence that was stalking you as you silently fumed at the predicament you were in.

Finding you made the emotional weariness drag him down further, like weights were placed upon his chest.

Seeing you made him think of—

“... I miss William...” He croaked out, his voice sounding like it hadn’t been used for such a long time. He whispered out the name William like it was something sacred, holding the name of his dead lover with so much tenderness.

William was his boyfriend and his first best friend, the person he cared so deeply about more than himself.

You were his second best friend, the only other person in his life that he relied on. The three of you were a great trio that protected each other, being brought together by the wonderous work of his late boyfriend.

You died while trying to protect Wiliam, Nolan determined to kill the boy Mark was in love with—saying that having a big of a distraction as William would only hinder him from doing what his life’s purpose was.

There was only so much that you can do against a viltrumite while having the capabilities of being human. You were completely butchered, the overkill that Nolan did was unfathomable. William’s death was less severe, you stood between him and the painful ending he would’ve originally received.

He lost the two most important people in his life that day, dying next to each other.

All three of you promised to be together in the future, live in the same neighborhood so that every day whenever you and William wanted, you’ll all get together and hangout. Him and William would live in a cozy house just for the two of him, and you would be the next-door neighbor with the key to let yourself in anytime.

That’s what you three had promised—before Nolan ripped and tore that promise apart like it meant nothing.

Maskless Mark eyes shifted to the variant that had his face completely covered, squinting his eyes. He was too late to protect you and William, but he wasn’t going to repeat that same mistake with this dimension’s version of you.

William would’ve wanted him to protect you too—protect you from a stranger. He could practically hear his boyfriend’s nagging voice on how he shouldn’t leave (Y/N) alone with a guy, talking about how creeps would take any opportunity to snatch you away simply because you were a beautiful girl.

He would say that you didn’t have the privilege like him and Mark did to just wander around because of the absence of a dick in your pants.

His body was suddenly energized, pacing closer behind you both above the tall buildings. For the first time since the death of you and William, he felt something other than sadness and grief. He felt happy.

It was... nice to be reunited with a friend.  

yawns me when I have to write plot progression🥱🥱

I blinked and suddenly two weeks passed 💀 I ain’t going to get into this habit trust 🤞🏽

UHH BUT BEING FR I LOST TRACK OF TIME MY BAD YALL… feel embarrassed LOL posting this with my eyes closed idc 💔

anyway we ALL CRACKING WILLIAM

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[thatnonameuser]

Can MC make a cat cult and use cat to attack Yanderes.

MC getting a cat for each dorm/ event and all of them are scheming to get you away from the boys is cute. Unlike Grim, these fur babies can’t be bribed. 

*                    *                    *                    *                    *

You love cats.

What’s not to love? The little fluff balls are adorable. And surprisingly the most normal part of this world. 

You were a cat person. Plain and simple.

You loved cats, back in your world always feeding them, petting them, cuddling them. You loved them so much that when you first met Grim, you loved him even if he was a pain in the neck that went through tuna like fish breathed in water. 

Plus, given how stressful your situation was, they were the perfect stress relief. You can’t count how many nights you fell asleep petting Grim, cuddling Grim in your arms as you slept. 

Grim was your ghost repellent, your flame thrower, and your bestfriend/boss. Grim was like a rescue, throwing claws at you at first, and then cuddling up on you for your love and attention. 

Grim was a possessive cat, always wanting to be around you and constantly trying to be around you. And when you were threatened or in danger he would attack with his claws or his magic. There was even that one time that he tried to claw out Jamil’s eyes for mind controlling you back during winter break. 

To you, that was your one good thing. And because you deserved more good things after everything you went through…..the universe decided to give you a bunch more cats. Yay!

Besides Grim, the first one you met was Cheshire. Who somehow broke into your kitchen and got into Grim’s tuna. The orange tabby had a habit of coming and going whenever he pleased and causing mischief all over Ramshackle, destroying dishes and glasses. But despite your intruder cat’s reign of terror, he had a wonderful habit of popping up from nowhere whenever you visited Heartslabyul. 

It was a breath of fresh air whenever he managed to ruin the dorm’s peace and cause disaster to fall like a tower of cards. Like the namesake, Cheshire loved messing things up and causing chaos, breaking teacups, knocking over cakes and treats and vanishing before he could get caught and popping up again whenever anyone thought he was gone to continue it. And whenever one of the boys got too close to you, he’d pop out of nowhere and deliver them a hail of scratches and bites. 

So when they inevitably caught him, you scooped the poor baby into your arms and took him as your own before they skinned the cat alive. Cheshire just loved ruining yanderes’ evil plans, and being so adorable that being mad at him for his casual destruction was borderline impossible, and being a free spirit / vigilante that came out of nowhere was quite helpful. And then came more.

After Cheshire, it was Nala, Sushi and Rajah. Your violent babies.

Because much like his namesake, Cheshire came and went as he pleased, only coming in when it was time to be a hero. So you left food for him to eat when he decided to come back. Grim mourned his loss of tuna, but your other cat needed feeding, so you left an open can on the porch with some water. You woke up to Cheshire on your porch with his new friends. Who all jumped you as soon as you opened the door. 

Nala, a savannah cat, was a hunter and a fighter. She was a very peaceful kitty with you, but a violent hellspawn with anyone else. She was a territorial kitty so whenever the Savanaclaw boys came near she would leave enough bloody bite marks on them to warrant a rabies shot. 

Sushi, a spotted orange, black and white kitty, wasn’t the most feral, but he had a taste for the sea. The tiny kitty always followed you to Octavinelle, and whenever the trio got near he would eye them like dinner. Gotta love merfolk technically being seafood. Sushi was very agile too, so Floyd couldn’t catch them whenever she got too close. 

Rajah, an orange and black striped cat the size of a medium-sized dog he’d rip and tear through clothes with his teeth and claws. He hated all your suitors, ripping holes into pants legs, baring fangs and hissing whenever they got too close. He couldn’t be bribed despite even Kalim trying to warm up with him with expensive and delicious smelling treats. But unlike Grim, he couldn’t be tricked.

And after them, it was Duchess, Chimera, and then Diablo. Your crafty kitties.

Duchess, a Persian cat with white fur so long that when you brushed her it looked like your sheets got snowed on, was a spoiled loud princess. So loud that she would yowl at all hours and alert anyone unfortunate or otherwise to hear it. Much to your surprise, whenever Rook decided to invade your privacy she always managed to find him. Which is both strange because the fact Rook barely ever got caught, and helpful because then he couldn’t do whatever. But thanks to…. something, Duchess always found her way to him. And when she did she was like a siren, yowling so loud it woke you up when you were sleeping. 

Chimera was an adorably fat patchwork cat that was as lazy as Grim, but had a penchant for finding electronics in Ramshackle and sitting on them. While Idia loves cats to an unhealthy degree, you could see that it was bothering him that Chimera kept destroying his cameras. Too bad, your fat little-big Chimera is a danger to those hidden cameras and as a result of that, a lovely roommate that won’t be moving out.

Diablo, a black cat no surprise, had appeared on top of you when you opened your eyes one morning and didn’t ever leave. You were suspicious of whether or not he was a normal cat, because you noticed the little blue lights that came into the air when he popped out of nowhere. His speciality was messing with magic, or more specifically magical artifacts meant to lure and bind you. The food spelled with potions, necklaces with curses of binding, and even  Whatever was sent would be smashed, shattered and broken before you could be tricked into using them. Incredibly helpful given Diasomnia’s antics, specifically Malleus’ gift giving of precious and usually cursed jewelry. 

And then, Count Claudius. And Foxy. And Gideon. And Skelly.

All your possessive and protective little kitties, that made biscuits in your blankets and bite marks on your suitors. 

Sure Grim was a lil’ jealous. He was still your number one, you did your best to make sure that he wasn’t going to fight with the cats in a jealous rage. 

As for your suitors…..

They were probably pissed. You had to free your precious babies from traps to make sure they were able to come back to Ramshackle come morning. But, Grim mostly fell for them. 

But hey, you’d rather be a single cat lady than deal with your yandere suitors. Maybe you could take them home with you.

[jscrawls]

Widows rest

My take on a Black widow! Reader x Batman and Batfam but with a slight twist, reader doesn't know the Bats but they seem to know them...

Warning: contains avengers infinity war spoilers, black widow spoilers, mentions of death, violence, terrorism, poor writing, ooc writing,

part 14: busy

🔹🔹🔹

You don't forget things easily, never have. You consider it a skill to memorize the intro to a book, remember passwords you spot out of the corner of your eye, but sometimes you wish you could shut it off.

Tonight you woke in a cold sweat, the too warm sheets twisting around you and holding you captive as you desperately try to shove the memories out of your head. the fear in their pleading eyes, the smell of nervous sweat, the desperate heave of their chest as if trying to savor every breath, the breathless pleas for mercy, you've never forgotten your first kill.

You shakily untangle yourself and slowly sit up, your heart is racing like you've ran an Olympic marathon and had to then run home. You hate how the large room feels smaller as you try to stand up on shaking legs, you feel cornered despite being alone.

The floors cold as you pad out of your room, it feels strange to call it yours you don't really have a destination in mind, it's late, or early? You didn't check the time before leaving, you just know it's pitch black outside whenever you pass a window. Right now you just need to…. Move, you wish there was a punching bag here.

There's a faint light on down the hall, you're near one of the sitting rooms by the library and You doubt a burglar would turn a TV on so you creep closer without worrying about a weapon, yet you still shift your feet to roll your weight differently and keep your knees bent as you silently approach the cracked open doorway.

Alfred's in the room, watching TV with a hand pressed over his mouth in tense silence, shifting his weight from foot to foot as he stands in front of the TV. Your attention shifts to what you can see of the screen and you watch as a news station live reports about an ongoing incident, an old warehouse is up in flames and there seems to be a fight between some people attempting to throw Molotov cocktails and the heroes in this City. You recognize the bat-man guy and the other one, red Robin right? It's clearly a bad time as the heroes, along with a few more you don't personally know, are trying to stop the morons from burning themselves everytime they drop their bottles.

You catch most of it despite Alfred blocking the view somewhat, a hero in black and blue whisks civilians out of the way of broken glass and burning fuel while a short one is that a child!? assists, one in black and purple swings off a grappling hook and kicks one of the Molotov throwers in the chest right before he lights up another bottle, knocking him to the ground. You bet that hurt.

Alfred steps closer to the screen, blocking more of your view. Your eyes narrow and you have to stop yourself from leaning into the wood frame to see around him, he hasn't noticed you yet and for some reason you feel you should keep it that way.

The news reporter speaks in relieved tones, is it wrapping up? You're about to pad back down the hall and go back to your room when Alfred grunts at the same time as the reporter starts yelling something quickly.

“-AND IT LOOKS LIKE WE'VE GOT A META ON SCENE! BATMANS BEEN TACKLED INTO THE FIERY BUILDING AND HAS DISAPPEARED FROM GOTHAM LIVES VIEW! YOU HEARD IT HERE FIRST FOLKS THERE'S A META ON SIGHT AND THINGS ARE RAMPING UP-”

You pull back around the corner as Alfred starts to turn, you're already tucked in a corner when he shuffles out of the room. luckily he goes the opposite way and disappears into the library, the heavy doors shutting behind him with a loud thud.

🔹🔹🔹

You don't sleep the rest of the night, everything about that rubbed you the wrong way and you hate it. After laying down for an hour and rethinking every part of what you saw, you can't take it anymore. You get out of bed and train some more, your muscles ache and protest like hell but you push through, you're not useless or defective. And you're sick of living like you are

Breakfast is…. Off, much weirder than any other time you've been here. For one thing there's no sign of Bruce, and the kids are silent as church mice as they eat. It's weirdly somber as you walk in, even Tim is there, you'd started to think the kid was living somewhere else.

“…. Morning.” You mumble as you shuffle in, pretending your body isn't screaming at you for overdoing it.

Alfred's the only one to reply to you, voice clipped as if personally offended you've shattered the fragile silence. “Good morning. Eat and get ready for your therapy trip.” While he's not downright nasty, his body language says a lot. Clenched fists, head tilting back as he forces calm breaths, you've never seen Alfred so out of sorts.

You don't have to fake a confused tone as you reply. “…. Alright?” you grab yourself a cup of coffee and take a seat at the table beside Tim, who seems to stiffen up at your close proximity.

The silence is quickly uncomfortable so you decide to take the plunge. “Is everything alright?” Your tone takes on a timidness, feigning meekness as you glance around the table at Duke, Damian and Tim. Dukes gaze flick towards you, he's the one closest to breaking.

“…. There was a lot going on last night..” Duke mumbles after meeting your stare, a loud thump echoes under the table and Duke flinches, Damian just kicked him.

“A lot of?….” You press harder when the other two avoid your eye, you lean back when Alfred sets a plate in front of you but you don't break your concentration on the boy.

He looks away when Tim gives him a look, what the hell are they hiding?

“…. Some kind of attack I guess, everyone's been texting everyone about it in the school chat….” His voice gets quieter, he's lying and poorly.

Your expression doesn't even twitch, when he gives no more details you sigh and change the subject. “Where's Bruce? He's usually chugging caffeine like it's water at this hour.” You look away from Duke, finally sparing him as you start in on your breakfast.

“He would be at work, apparently there was an emergency meeting in response to the fires. Fear of Wayne warehouses being targeted next I believe it was.” Alfred replies as he nudges Damian to eat his nearly untouched food, still clearly tense.

That doesn't sound right, why would he leave so early for that? And without Tim? this has to be another cover up of sorts. Your eyes dart around the table, do the kids know?

“sounds awful, you said there was a fire in an attack?” You tilt your head, feigning complete confusion. Tim shifts uncomfortably beside you.

A kettle in the stove whistles, alfred slowly pours himself a tea and sits down at the table beside Damian, taking his sweet time before he answers.

“That's correct, around two am last night there was a group attack on an empty warehouse that used to house fireworks in the nineties, things would've been catastrophic for downtown Gotham if the fire department and the vigilantes didn't respond so quickly.

He doesn't mention which heroes, he probably thinks you don't know of any of them, If only the knew you've met two of them. “An attack on a building that used to house explosive material? Sounds like domestic terrorism to me.”

you lean back in your seat and cross your arms over your chest, you find yourself pondering on the bat hero again. The one that visited you in the hospital and assured you about your attackers facing justice while insisting on wrapping his cape around you. How'd he fare the fight with the ‘Meta’ last night? They're not called mutants here?

Breakfast is quick and silent after that statement, no one finishes their plates.

🔹🔹🔹

You're just walking out of the doctor's office, having finished your physical therapy appointment, when Alfred approaches you outside the doors, a grim expression on his face as he silently takes your arm and helps you towards the car. As soon as you're buckled in and starting to take off your sunglasses Alfred breaks the tense silence.

“Bruce got into a car accident this afternoon.”

🔹🔹🔹

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A/n: poor Bruce ey? Wonder what happened to him 👀👀👀 thank you all for the well wishes and lovely comments! I appreciate each and every one of y'all and want to send Internet hugs. Hope you're all having an amazing day/night and drinking plenty of water! 🥺💗💐💜

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[feelfreetopleasemexo]

You stay away from my brother cause I say so! Pt 2

The next week was filled with classes, training and endless homework, you barely had chance to catch up with Eijiro at all. One night you had enough of the endless homework and barged your way into his dorm, flopping face first onto his bed. You let out a big huff and sunk into his bed as he looked at you from over his shoulder and laughed at you.

“Math causing you to crash out like this I take it?” He rolled his eyes at you but still flashed his toothy grin at your over exaggerated ‘hmm.’ to his question.

“It’s your own fault Yano, you shouldn’t have tried to go toe to toe with kat…”

“Dont.” You huffed, unamused but not angrily. You rolled over and faced the ceiling as you let your arms fall back into the starfish pose. “He’s just….such a prick. He thinks he can hurt anyone he wants and get away with i…”

“Oi. Cool your flames there flame thrower, i dont need my sheets being burnt up again.” You rolled your eyes and turned to face him, trying your best to relax your frustration from your face. You flashed him a sweet smile as he giggled and contained working on his homework.

“Im just an over protective big sister okay….” You tried to say sweetly, trying to justify your actions.

“Can you imagine if we were actually related? You might have actually turned him into atoms.” His laugh eased your frustration, you knew he wasn’t angry at you for retaliating, just mildly disappointed, which stung slightly more truth be told.

“Damn right I would’ve, can you imagine if he had turned into nothing more than a shadow on the floor….” You started to laugh, as you noticed Eijiro’s eyes and smile faint.

“Thats some villain talk there y/n, watch yourself. Remember who you are.”

“Remember who I am? This isn’t some lion king shit, im only joking….i just, wanted to hurt him. I’d never kill anyone, thats not what heros do…” The hurt in your voice became apparent as Eijiro tried to shoot you a smile and ease the unintentional tension rising. You laid your head back as you scowled. After a moment of silence you spoke again,

“Why does he get to fuck anyone and everyone up, nearly blast them into next week and it’s fine, but the moment I lose my cool for a second you all turn on me and start calling me a villain…” You couldnt hide the pain anymore, not that you ever had to around Eijiro, but the more people hounded you for loosing your cool, the more upset and angry you became. He tired to reassure you that no one actually thought you were a villain, but it didn’t help. You were getting too angry. You got up off his bed and stormed off. He tried to come after you but you shouted for him to leave you alone, that you were going to the gym to train and burn some of this emotional stress off.

As you got to the gym doors, the flames engulfing your hands became almost too much. You needed to let it out, to blow off some steam, until you opened the doors and saw him training in there. Oh this boy was gonna get fucked up again. And with no teachers around? You could fully let go. No. Something inside of you tried to calm you down, you never wanted to hurt anyone before, let alone actively try to burn their skin off. He was just some stupid kid in your class, so why did he make you so angry…he hadn’t even hurt Eijiro that badly, but the sight of him made the flames on your hands turn blue. The anger inside you made the flames hurt your skin, why were they so hot?

“Oh for FUCK SAKE…what’re you doing here extra? Im training, so fuck off.” You had to bite your lip, so much so that it started filling your mouth with a horrible metallic taste. You tried to breath and calm yourself, turning back around to come back later, and thats when you heard it. It was low, almost a whisper, but you fucking heard it.

“Thats right, run off back to your baby brother.”

Nothing could’ve stopped you running towards him. Not mr aizawa, not allmight, no one. You b lined it for him and used your flames to shoot you into the air, colliding directly into him. You tried to strangle him, but he forced your hand off and blasted your face. You tried to duck but he caught you, it stung a little but the adrenaline in your body made you completely unaware of the damage. You punched him in the stomach and pulled his head up by his hair, punching him directly in the nose. You both crashed to the floor, and you tried to take a fighting stance to rush him again, but realised you were laid ontop of him with his hand tightly on your waist. You looked down and he suddenly put his other hand around the back of your neck and pulled you into a kiss.

You were more than accustom to the warm fuzzing feeling inside of your body, but this? This felt like an electrical fire. It was hot, stingy and vibrated every cell in your body. You stared at him as he closed his eyes and pressed harder into the kiss. You didn’t know what to do. You were angry. Sad. Frustrated. Horny? No you couldnt be. This bastard hurt your brother, but the way his lips felt…the way he then started putting his tongue in your mouth….no. You couldnt. You pushed away from him and stared down at him, threw your fist up reedy to punch him again, but you didn’t. As he opened his eyes you felt like you were seeing them for the first time. Your fist lowered as you leant back down at kissed him. His wrapped his arms around you and held you tightly. The heat from his palms only made you kiss harder, he then suddenly smacked your ass and let out a massive blast behind you. Your breath became heavy, panting into his mouth. You started to warm your hands on his chest, as you pulled you in closer, your teeth almost clashing as you kissed. Suddenly you were backing up, holding onto his collar pulling him with you as you kept kissing. You were both now stood, you blasted hot flames at his feet as he then pulled you closer and let off a blast making you both go up in the air slightly. You wrapped your legs around his hips and started kissing him faster, deeper, sloppier. He blasted you around to the top of the training pads, far up from the ground, then he laid you down and pressed his hips into you. What the fuck were you guys doing?! Why you were you dry humping each other in the gym, using your quirks on each other as if it was a completely normal thing to do. Suddenly the gym doors flung open and aizawa and mic stood there, clearly looking for the both of you. As they looked around, he started doing press ups over you, as you tried to shrink your body under him, praying that they couldn’t see you.

Mic shoved aizawas elbow and raised his eyes brows up and down, pointing to Katsuki doing push-ups incredibly high off the ground ontop of the training pads.

“Get your ass down here if you’re gonna that Bakugo.” Mr Aizawa said, before turning around and walking him and mic out the gym, just before the door closed he held it and stopped.

“You too Y/n.” And with that last statement he let the doors close. Your face flushed, how did he know you were there?! They couldn’t see shit from down there….katsuki looked down at you and laughed, lowering into another low rep of the push up and kissing you gently, then smirking at you. You pushed him off and jumped down to the floor, running off to your dorm without looking back.

Why did he kiss you? Why did he continue to do so after aizawa left? Why did any of this happen? You wanted to kill him, wanted to blow his smug smirk right off his face. You wanted to kiss hi…no. You couldnt. You ran to your dorm and slide down the door after you closed it.

Your phone pinged. It was him. How did he even get your number? Eijiro. Bastard. The text read,

“Gym tomorrow at 8pm.”

You didn’t reply. You threw your phone across the room and pretended you didn’t see it. That night you had a crazy ass dream where you were fighting a dragon, it then turned into him and you were kissing again….you woke up in a sweat, almost late for your class. After washing your face and running to class, you made it just in time. Aizawa raised an eyebrow as the bell rang as soon as you entered the room, not technically late. He glanced at your desk then back at you as you scrambled to your seat.

After classes you went back to your dorm and showered, ate some food then just sat. You sat and watched the clock. 7.45. 7.50. 7.55. The anxiety growing in your stomach. 8. You decided to go to the gym. 8.05 you opened the gym doors to see him setting some training equipment up.

“You’re late.” He didnt look at you.

“Better late than never I suppose….i was. Busy.”

“Bullshit.” He huffed, standing back up after laying out the equipment, “cmon then. Show me what you’ve got. That low running shit is getting old. Try getting them to come to you, here, like this.”

You stood to where he pointed, he then quickly advanced towards you and took you down. You weren’t ready, you were far too in your own head about yesterday. He got off you and walked back to his original place.

“Now, stop being a fucking idiot and try again. Blast next to me as I advance, not directly at me.”

You did as he instructed and he rolled away from you.

“See. Confuses them, makes them wander why you didnt blast them straight up in the face. Again, but try a tight circle with your fingers before you blast.”

He was helping you train…after a few rounds of fighting the worry of him kissing you again disappeared, along with your anger for him. He was insanely good at teaching, and his combat knowledge was even more impressive. After trying to reach you how to use your flames to distract your opponent, he ended up pinning you down again as you weren’t quite fast enough. Then he stopped, stared at you and kissed you again. This time, you didn’t hesitate, you didn’t keep your eyes open, you kissed back. You both rolled around with each other, occasionally letting off flames to change the direction of your rolling, one blast to his side so you could roll the other way and be ontop, then him blasting your side, and so on. It quickly become a nightly thing. Youd finish class, go back to your dorms, get ready then meet at 8 in the gym. Youd fight, youd make out, then youd pretend nothing happened.

You don’t know how or why it became a thing but it did. No one else knew about it, and it quickly became a thing you were excited about going to. You started arriving at the gym slightly earlier. 7.45 you set up a few new exercises for you guys to try. 7.30, you stretched before starting. 7. Every time you arrived earlier so did he, not at the exact time but always a few minutes behind you. The earlier you met, the more dangerous it became, anyone could find you, could see you. The excitement became a part of it. He started slapping your ass when your whole class was out on training exercises, started staring at you more as you worked in class. The tension between you two started becoming evident because one night you arrived at the gym at 5pm, and were met by him and Eijiro having a disagreement.

“I haven’t seen her in over a week.” Eijiro barked at him. He never raised his voice.

“Right? She’s not your girlfriend. We’re training.”

“She’s not yours either remember? Or did you forget that when you smacked her ass in class earlier…didnt think anyone saw you did you... But I did.”

Why was Eijiro getting…jealous? Protective over you? You knew he was probably just doing his best friend/britherly duties but….he never raised his voice. Especially not to Katsuki. You walked over and tried to scuff your feet slightly so they heard you before they saw you. Eijiro’s eyes softened as he saw you, walking towards you.

“You alright stranger? You been kicking this guys ass a bit much recently….feels like my sisters gone MIA…” he flashed you a smile, but you knew him well enough to see his anger still bubbling underneath from his conversation with Katsuki.

“Yeah im okay I just….Kats said hed help m…”

“Kats? Since WHEN did you call him that….” He sounded hurt, like he was losing his best friend to someone else.

“Oh i just…i know he hates it so I tease him with it…” Your voice became embarrassed, like you were trying to defend your crush to your own dad. “You don’t gotta bite my head off, you’re still my broth…”

“Hmm. Doesn’t feel like it right now.” His voice was low, stern, this was a mixture of disappointment and anger. You didn’t ever want to make him feel like he was losing you.

“Hey…cmon, we’re family. We’ve always got each others backs…right?” You leaned your head to try catch his eye line, but he shook his head and walked past you, leaving you and Katsuki alone in the gym.

[hinkepink]

What if KPop names but for Powerwolf?

Hear me out! So as far as I know many KPop fans have names for their fandom - BTS has ARMY, BLACKPINK has BLINK and so on. My brain conjured up fandom names for every Powerwolf member:

Attila - ✨Attilary✨ You know, based on artillery, big weapons shooting munition OR maybe two flame throwers in power-metal-singer-hand-size!

Charles - ✨Charletans✨ Like charlatan! Not the most creative, but definitely a fun fandom name - "We're the Charletans" Falk - ✨Falkners✨ Okay, so in german falconers (pl.) are called Falkner (sg. & pl.) and Falks name literally stems from the old high german word for falcon! Matthew - ✨Mafew✨ This one is a little stupid and a little funny! Many germans have problems forming the english 'th', so they naturally opt for a substitute. The voiced 'th' becomes a 'd' or a 'v' (that -> dat, clothing -> cloving), the voiceless 'th' on the other hand becomes an 'f' - so Matthew would turn into Mafew! And the Matthew fandom would be the (Ma)few! Roel van Helden - ✨Helden✨ In german and in dutch there is the word 'Held', which means hero and the plural would be 'Helden'! So Roels fandom would literally be called heroes!! (And 'Roel van Helden' could probably be translated as 'Roland of Heroes' haha)

Please add your ideas if you feel like it!

[docgold13]

Heroes & Villains The DC Animated Universe - Paper Cut-Out Portraits and Profiles

Heatwave

Armed with a powerful, pistol-sized flame-thrower, Rory Mick became the costumed super villain known as Heatwave.  He ran afoul of The Flash on a number of occasions and later joined Gorilla Grodd’s Legion of Doom.

As a member of the Legion, Heatwave participated in a mission to obtain the body of the fabled Viking Prince encased in a glacier.  The Justice League prevented this theft and Heatwave was knocked unconscious by Wonder Woman.  

The villain somehow managed to escape incarceration and returned to the Legion.  He sided with Lex Luthor when Luthor took over the Legion and was among the few survivors saved by Sinestro and Star Sapphire after the Legion headquarters was destroyed by Darkseid.  

Returning to earth, Heatwave and the other surviving member of the Legion aided the Justice League in fending off Darkseid’s invading forces.  Once these forces were defeated and the day was saved, the League opted to give Heatwave and the other villains a five-minute head-start before pursuing them as thanks for their aid in battling for earth.  

Actor Lex Lang provided the voice for Heatwave with the rogue first appearing in the fourteenth episode of the second season of Justice League, ‘Eclipsed Part I.’ 

[tea-the-not-understanding]

Alright, I just made a new oc out of my dream

His name is Death star cookie, powerful in some way asshole but also nice. He's so easily angered because everything he do, always end up wrong.

For a good example to this - He try to burn down a kitchen, but end up cooking the best meal in the universe - in bbq moment, he using his power to breath fire and using flame thrower, end up make the best meat and steak in the whole yard and won the trophy - He try to kidnap someone, but end up kidnap a criminal so the small village saw him as a hero - He attempt on murder, he murder a killer who supposed to be in death sentence, so the police give him some candy.

Yeah, you see why he so easily angered since he try to be chaotic and evil but end up doing something nice.

And his lore is complicated so I'll try to explain with my best.

Like in my au, Luna/Moon cookie. She's literally depressed and a broken mother who unable to have a child of her own through multiples tries.

Now, when ever a child were born from Planet cookie, or for Luna cookie. A small star/planet were also born. But if they unable to make it through and die, the same goes to the small star/planet as well. Where the planet/star explode or cracked and shattered. Luna always go out to clean the debris, in hoping or believing that she's collecting the small souls and keep them together so that the little ones will not get lost in the after life. Turns out, her believes seem to be true, since a little parts that isn't collected, are part of the lost vessels. So when she finally have a son, Little moon cookie. She were thrilled and joyful, but sadly, it didn't last. Because of her husband were so feared of what he see in the future of the Little moon. He take away her son and disposed of him into the cookie world, in hoping that he'll die from lack of care.

But faith have different option, where due to lack of care and anybody who could teach Little moon cookie to control his ability. His emotions got the best of him, splitting him apart, creating Melatonin and Icing. So when Luna see two moons, she know her son is alive somewhere and been spending years on the moon, looking down, weeping as she desperately looking for her lost son.

Time went by, and to her horror, she were a little late when she witness one of the small two moons of her son are shattered. She try to go out to clean, but it were too late. Now, the small vessels that weren't collected, all gather up together and same goes with the small shattered moon, it created a Death star. To Luna horror, she knew what her husband saw and see why he feared it. A Death star, known to bring chaos and horror. But the one thing that the husband didn't see through. Is that the vessels that were collected and formed together. It made Death star cookie very harmless and clumsy. And also had a lot of useful skills. She see good in him and take care of him like he son, fulfill her wishes and dream of having a son.

It also the reason why he have a chaos and a personality like a psychopath (probably got that part from icing vessels.) while the rest of the goods are all from the long disease and unable to make it through vessels. And because of this, it make him goofy and silly and TOTALLY harmless lol

And for some reason, he had the ability to summon cubes and shapes that he can make it into a bomb or form a shape to create a dome or a box around the victim. And if one of the ball is darkness like blackhole, yeah that thing can destroy you into juice. Which is why he use the box ability to close the victim and create a red box filled with someone insides and death. (totally got this in my dream :] )

@ask-churro-cookie ( shocking news- Marigold won't believe it! ) @roseofdarkness0 ( Is my writing good?? :D ) @m00r3-cha0s ( this is the little shit that chasing your sheep )

[justaprankhan]

@zekeg33k: "What did you do?" - Maximus

"I didn't mean to do anything, sir knight!" The last thing Hannah wants is to have a hero mad at her. He's supposed to rescue her, she can't miss this chance. "I saw that water pump and I thought it was free, for outsiders-" "She stole the water!" shrieked the vendor, "And she won't pay!" "I don't have any caps, but I didn't mean to steal anything! And he said he was going to shoot me-" which was why she was aiming the flame-thrower in his direction, while he was waving a machete at her. "I am going to kill her!" "I don't want to hurt anyone," she begged the knight, "I made a mistake, I am so sorry!"

[jaycymru39]

So I had an Idea based off the Deck of Wild Cards from DND

It Involves Alfie (One of my characters who I made into a Mii) who is a Rabbitperson and an incredible card thrower, so why not give him a powerful deck of magical cards? What could go wrong? Anyway here is the

Deck Of Bunny Cards

This deck of Razor sharp iron radiates with the magic of the Elements and pure luck. The magic of the deck functions only if cards are drawn at random (a deck of real-world playing cards can simulate the deck). As an action, you can draw a random card from this deck and throw it to make a ranged spell attack, using Dexterity for the attack roll. The card has a range of 30/120 feet. On a hit, it deals 2d4 slashing damage and imposes a damage type determined by its suit. The card immediately returns to the deck after it hits or misses a target.

d4 -> Suit -> Element d12 -> Rank -> Damage Nat 20 on attack roll is an Ace ♣️ (Psychic) ♦️ (Cold) ♥️ (Fire) ♠️ (Lightning)

Rank 2 - 2d4 3 - 2d6 4 - 2d8 5 - 4d4 + 2 6 - 2d12 7 - 4d6 + 2 8 - 4d8 + 2 9 - 4d12 + 2 J (10) - 4d4 constantly for 3 turns Q (11) - 4d6 constantly for 3 turns K (12) - 4d8 constantly for 3 turns

When an Ace is drawn they will be these spells with extra damage

♣️ - Raulothim’s Psychic Lance with 10d6 psychic ♦️ - Ice Storm with 4d8 bludgeoning and 8d6 cold ♥️ - Flame Strike with 6d6 radiant and 8d8 fire ♠️ - Storm Sphere with 3d6 bludgeoning and 8d6 lightning

oh also heres alfie in both hero forge and the Mii

[got-into-worm-by-mistake]

Interlude 3 Live Reactions

(This is me, writing reactions as I read, because why the fuck not. They're not complete, mature thoughts taken after I sit back and evaluate what I've read. Consider them as such)

The building housing the local Parahuman Response Team division didn’t really stand out. The exterior was all windows, reflective enough to mirror the mottled dark gray of the sky overhead.  Only a shield logo bearing the letters ‘P.R.T.’ marked it apart from the other buildings of downtown Brockton Bay.

Maybe it's just because I have shatterbird on the brain because I've read several versions of Slaugherhouse 9 attacks on Brockton Bay in fics recently, but like... while I get that you can't just build every building without windows out of fear of Shatterbird showing up in your city, it does seem ill-advised for the PRT to have that much window on their HQ. If Shatterbird does show up...

Those entering the lobby would find a strange juxtaposition at work.  On the one hand, you could see the various employees in suits, hurrying in and out of the building, talking in groups.  A team of four PRT officers was on standby, each stationed at a different area of the lobby, outfitted in the best equipment money could buy.  All had chain mesh and kevlar vests, helmets that covered their faces, and firearms.  The equipment differed, however, as two of them had grenade launchers hanging from straps on their shoulders with bandoliers of various specialty ammunition across their chests, including a fire extinguishing grenade, an EMP round and various stun grenades.  The other two had what appeared at first glance to be flame throwers; were they to pull the triggers, they would eject a thick, frothing spray of foam, enough to contain all but the strongest and fastest villains.

This is definitely weird compared to the last two Interludes...

In stark contrast to this, there was the gift shop that would be thick with youths when school ended, sporting a selection of action figures, posters, video games and clothing.  Four-foot tall pictures of the various Protectorate and Wards team members were placed at regular intervals around the lobby, each backed by bright colors.

Definitely really fucking incongruous, yeah.

There was a cheery tour guide waiting patiently by the front desk, smiling handsomely at anybody who happened to glance his way.  On schedule, he would introduce tourists and children to the PRT offices, the armory, the training area and the parking lot with the parahuman containment vans, showing them what it took to manage the local heroes.  For those willing to pay for the premium tour, wait up to two hours and suffer a PRT squad escort, there would be an additional stop on the tour – a glimpse of the Wards’ Headquarters.

This is a little too 'Omniscient impersonal narrator' compared to the last two Interludes.

“Director Piggot.  Ma’am,” Aegis greeted her, his voice strained.  His costume was in shreds, and was more crimson with his own blood than it was its original white.  

Given that Aegis probably gets hurt a lot, since he's not actually invulnerable, per se, why wear white when he's gonna bleed all over it?

Although he's probably still wearing Clock's uniform, isn't he?

Director Piggot didn’t look away, but one of the men standing behind her looked a touch green around the gills, “I can take you at your word.  You don’t need to stick your arm all the way through your chest to demonstrate.”

Aegis is still a teenage boy. 'Look What I Can Do!' is still a big part of the mindset.

 Maybe next time, the rest of you can talk Gallant out of inviting his girlfriend along.” The protests overlapped. “It was her sister in the bank! 

Yeah, I'm... I mean, oddly enough, Amy probably would have had a better time of things if Vicky didn't get invited, but its a tall ask to keep her back

“You’ll have to forgive me,” Piggot smiled, “The paperwork gets to be a bit much sometimes.  Maybe you know where to find the documentation from our military and science teams, for this Alternator Cannon?” “Christ, Kid,” Aegis groaned under his breath, with his ruined voice. Kid Win looked more upset about Aegis’ reaction than anything else, “I, uh.  I didn’t get it officially cleared, yet.  I just thought it would be better to use the cannon and do what I could to stop the robbery.”

Yup. Definitely the Collateral Damage Ken :rofl:

Because also like Ken, he's just not as interesting. :P

Who's POV is this scene actually from though?

Director Piggot frowned, “The amount of time and money that would require, for an event that might never occur… no.  I suppose you can keep the cannon.”

Bet she planned on conceding this so the next bit about taking out the power source, etc, is received better.

“I’m going to have nightmares,” Clockblocker groaned, as he tenderly touched the welts around his nose and mouth, “Nightmares with lots and lots of spiders.”

Valid.

As.

Fuck.

“Shadow Stalker is AWOL?” Gallant asked. “Couldn’t make it in time,” Aegis grunted, “Told her to stay put.”

Carefully keeping hidden from the readers just what Sophia is.

Gallant considered for a moment, “Could be, but my gut tells me Piggy just wants to scare him.  He needs to stop testing the limits with the people in charge, or he’s going to get in real trouble at some point.”

Isn't Gallant usually the one calling people out in fic for calling Piggot 'Piggy'?

Flanderization, probably, I guess. Gallant is still a teen.

“And I’ll hold that position for not even the rest of the summer before I graduate and pass the mantle to you,” Clockblocker smiled self deprecatingly, “No worries.  Take charge.”

Rapid turnover does seem a major flaw in 'eldest runs the show'.

“Okay guys,” Gallant said, “Before we get started, I think it’s important to make some things clear.  First off, most importantly, today was not a failure.  I’d even say that today was a win for the good guys, and we start establishing that here and now.”

Okay, that really is putting Lipstick on a Pig, Gallant.

Taken.  Stinger is some villain in California with power armor, a jetpack and homing missiles, and Pestilence is a creepy psycho in London.”

All the Good Names are Always Taken!

“Skitter?” Gallant put the name out there. There was a clatter of keys as Clockblocker checked, “It’s not taken.” “Then it’s good enough,” 

I mean, it's not the worst name out there, really. I can see why Taylor never tried to push back on it.

Following behind Armsmaster and Miss Militia was a teenage girl in an enveloping white robe.  Panacea.  She had an ID card on a cord around her neck, featuring her photo and the word ‘GUEST’ in bright blue letters. “She was kind enough to volunteer to come here and patch you guys up,” Miss Militia told the young heroes, “Can’t send you home with horrible injuries and hundreds of bug bites, can we?  That would give away the show.”

Well, that and it would just kinda suck to go home like that.

Panacea really is a huge boon to the BB PRT, Protectorate and Wards, isn't she? Makes covering identities much easier.

She shifted the position of the rocket launcher on her shoulders, and it dissolved into a blur of green-black energy.  The energy lunged and arced around her for a few brief moments, then materialized into a machine gun.  It only held that form for a few seconds before it flickered and solidified into a sniper rifle, then a harpoon gun, and  finally settled in the form of a pair of uzis, one in each of her hands.  She barely seemed to notice, beyond the automatic action of holstering the guns.

Does the gun just constantly change when she's not using it? Can Miss Militia drop the guns? Hand them to someone? How does that work?

“I- A lot happened,” Panacea hedged. “Any detail helps.” “Um.  I’m sorry,” she said, looking down at the ground, “I got smacked across the head, but my power doesn’t work on myself, and I’m not really the type to go out in costume and get into fights, so having my life threatened, I dunno.  All that… I can’t put my thoughts in order just yet.”

I mean, I get why she's not saying much. Hard to really explain without hinting around too much. "I think she's a thinker" "Why?" "because she knew shit literally no one else should know but I'm not telling you because I can't."

“But I got them anyways, and I got international attention over it.  The healer.  The girl who could cure cancer with a touch, make someone ten years younger, regrow lost limbs.  I’m forced to be a hero.  Burdened with this obligation.  I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t use this power.  It’s such an opportunity, to save lives.” “But?” “But at the same time… I can’t cure everyone.  Even if I go to the hospital every night for two or three hours at a time, there are thousands of other hospitals I can’t visit, tens of millions of people who are terminally ill or living in a personal hell where they’re paralyzed or in constant pain.  These people don’t deserve to face that, but I can’t help them all.  I can’t help one percent of them if I put in twenty hours a day.” “You have to focus on what you can do,” Gallant told her. “Sounds easier than it is,” Panacea answered, with a touch of bitterness, “Do you understand what it means, to cure some of these people?  I feel like every second I take to myself is a second I’ve failed somehow.  For two years, it’s been this… pressure.  I lie in bed, awake at night, and I can’t sleep.  So I get up and I go to the hospital in the middle of the night.  Go to pediatrics, cure some kids.  Go to the ICU, spare some lives… and it’s all just blending together.  I can’t even remember the last few people I saved.”

Some anti-Amy people really seem to want to ignore this whole bit from her, sometimes, judging from some of the posts I've seen on r/parahumans.

God, Amy needs a hug, a break, therapy and a girlfriend, stat.

She sighed again, “The last person I really remember?  It was maybe a week ago, I was working on a kid.  He was just a toddler, an immigrant from Cairo, I think.  Ectopia Cordis.  That’s where you’re born with your heart outside your body.  I was putting everything in the right place, giving him a chance at a normal life.” “What made him so memorable?” “I resented him.  He was lying there, fast asleep, like an angel, and for just a second, I considered just leaving him.  The doctors could have finished the job, but it would have been dangerous.  He might have died if I’d left him on the table, the job half done.  I hated him.”

I'm surprised she's saying all this to Gallant, of all people. But A) She is evading the thing she really can't share (her crush on Vicky. When does that get revealed to the reader anyway?) and B) She knows Dean is too well... Gallant to actually share something like this revealed in confidence.

But also, yeah, the people who act like Amy didn't have it bad are full of shit. Doesn't excuse what she does, not even close, of course, but those haters are just insane.

“No, I hated that he would have a normal life, because I’d given up mine.  I was scared that I might intentionally make a mistake.  That I might let myself fuck up the procedure with this kid.  I could have killed him or ruined his life, but it would have eased the pressure.  Lowered expectations, you know?  Maybe it would have even lowered my own expectations for myself.  I… I was just so tired.  So exhausted.  I actually considered, for the briefest moment, abandoning a child to suffer or die.” “That sounds like more than just exhaustion,” Gallant replied, quietly. “Is this how it starts?  Is this the point I start becoming like my father, whoever he was?” Gallant let out a slow breath, “I could say no, that you’re never going to be like your father.  But I’d be lying.  Any of us, all of us, we run the risk of finding our own way down that path.  I can see the strain you’re experiencing, the stress.  I’ve seen people snap because of less.  So yeah.  It’s possible.”

I wonder if Amy feels conflicted about how much she doesn't like Dean because he is just such a genuinely good dude.

Like, I can imagine she hates all the unsolicited 'I want to help', I relate to that hard, but it is hard to hate someone who is just... that fucking nice.

I'd like to think she feels some confliction, anyway.

“Take a break.  Tell yourself it’s something you have to do, to recharge your batteries and help more people in the long run.” “I don’t think I can.”

Listen to him, Amy. For God's sake, fucking LISTEN.

*pretends she can yell hard enough that the characters can hear her*

LISTEN!

“She threatened to talk about stuff.  Stuff worse than what I just told you, I guess.  Threatened to tell me things I just don’t want to know.  Said she’d use what she knew to ruin my relationship with Victoria and the rest of my family,” Amy hugged herself. “My sister’s all I’ve got.  The only person with no expectations, who knows me as a person.  Carol never really wanted me.  Mark is clinically depressed, so as nice as he is, he’s too focused on himself to really be a dad.  My aunt and uncle are sweet, but they’ve got their own problems.  So it’s just me and Victoria.  Has been almost from the beginning.  That smug little monster threatened to tear my sister and I apart using yet another thing I didn’t want, another thing I had no control over.”

My desire to strangle Lisa grows.

Though honestly, while it would have wigged Vicky out, I doubt it would have actually made her hate you forever, or whatever, it coming out at this stage. She'd need a hot minute to come to terms with it, especially if it's revealed by Tattletale in that context, but otherwise...

But Amy is so used to hating herself that she assumes everyone else would hate her for this just as much.

“Does… does this have anything to do with the, erm, rather strong feelings you have towards me?” Panacea went still. “I’m sorry,” he hurried to say, “I shouldn’t have brought it up.” “You shouldn’t have,” she stood up and started towards the door.

So I gathered Dean does know (about the incest crush) by the time he dies, from reading on the wiki (IIRC), but does he know yet, or does he just know there's something there, but he's not sure what?

“Take care of my sister, okay?  Make her happy?” she murmured, as she hesitated in the doorway. “Goes without saying.” They rejoined the main group.

No mention of the on-again off-again element. When does that come up? Or is that just pure fanon?

But yeah, I think this scene would solidify for the coming into this blind reader the idea that Amy is a significant secondary character to this story. Like, Interlude 2 could just have been setting up the bank and showing off the darkside of the Heroes, but here, the additional focus on Amy's inner life like this - she's clearly not just a side character.

At least for the first half.

[i-oooo]

I am a third into the first book of Heroes of Olympus. I must sadly report that these books are still utterly CompCisHet. NGL, it is exhausting.... 😩

Here are my thoughts regarding the new trio:

- Jason seems kinda meh. So far the only interesting thing about him is that he *might* be Thalias brother.

- Leo and Piper could be so great but I wish their genders were swapped. Hear me out.

Gender swapped Leo/Piper:

I want Leo to be son of Aphrodite because he would make such a great Cherokee himbo. He would be the son of the famous movie star and have the charm speak ability. It would be great if he started out with thinking that he and Jason had been going out. He would be bisexual and there could be a lot of sexual tension between him, Drew and Mitchel. Leo could be claimed at the camp fire as the dove and have a "high school glow up" trope instead of Piper.

Piper would be the Hepheastus kid. She would be a brilliant latinx engineer, flame thrower and silly ADHD goof ball. Piper would grow up with her mother and have the creepy tia. Piper would sadly have killed her mother and gone from one foster care to the next. She would meet Leo at the Wilderness School and befriend him instantly.

Bonus: I picture this Piper as Audrey Ramirez from the Atlantis movie.

[guardian-rocket]

@byondtheveil

Rei knew Rocket had been in town. They had planned on meeting up tomorrow cause he was doing stuff with the avengers today... She didn't care which one it was, whoever abandoned Rocket was going to get a beating... even if it was Thor she'd just have to find a way to hit harder... or maybe she'd rebuild her flame thrower...

It didn't take long for Rei to pull up to the address Rocket sent her. Sure she had to borrow her neighbour's car since her truck was being worked on, but she didn't mind. Usually, she'd just walk but she wasn't sure how sloshed Rocket might be, "Hey there did someone order a tiny redhead ready to kick ass??"

Rocket had slugged his drink as he waited, mulling over his conversation that lead to the argument with Sam. He was always the first to admit he didn't care about the grand scheme of altruism, but Sam had pointed it out and somehow it hurt is pride, pride he didn't even know he had. He was frazzled on trying to figure out if he really DID or DIDN'T care. In trying to defend himself and the work he's done, the fact he had a hand in saving the universe a handful of times already and put his life on the line without a second thought.

What started as a toast to the mission they shared mutually turned into some weird interrogation. Either he had to admit he did care or admit he was a self centered prick who only cared about his own inner circle of friends.

Flashback:

"No, it's not your shooting skills I'm questioning. It's your motives. You fight, sure. But it seems like you're only in it if it benefits you or your little circle. You don't really care about the bigger picture, the masses out there who suffer while we're sitting here, sipping drinks."

"So, what? You're saying I'm no hero because I don't go around saving every flarkin' person in the galaxy? I look out for my team, Sam. They're my family. You gonna fault me for that?"

"It's not about faulting you for caring about your team Rocket. It's about what it means to be a hero. It's about doing the right thing, not just for your own, but for everyone. Even if it costs you. That's what being a hero is."

"I never said I was a hero."

"Then why are you upset?"

"Because you ain't got a right to say that. Listen to you, all high and mighty. You think I don't know about sacrifice? About loss? I've given more than you'll ever know, fought battles you wouldn't last a minute in. Just because I don't broadcast it, just because I'm not out there playing the hero for everyone to see, doesn't mean I don't care."

"Maybe you're right, Rocket. Maybe being a hero can mean different things. But at the end of the day, it's about making the universe a better place, not just for us, not just for our families, but for everyone. Can you honestly say you're doing that?"

There was a long pause, Rocket was fuming, "Oh, cut the sanctimonious crap, Sam. You think you're any better? Flying around, saving the day, but only when the cameras are rolling. You're a hero when it suits you, when it makes you look good. What about the dirty, gritty sacrifices no one wants to make, huh?" "No right? When you sit here, dismissing the value of lives because they're not part of your circle? That's where you're wrong. I thought there was more to you, Rocket. I thought underneath all that fur and attitude, there was an Avenger. Looks like I was wrong."

Rocket then growled, more animal-like than man, his hackles going up, and immediately he realized Sam looked uncomfortable, like seeing Rocket like that startled him, and Rocket noticed he didn't care. He was use to that sort of reaction but there was something in his eyes, in Sam's eyes that bothered him. It was like Sam didn't like him at all.

"That's it. I've had enough of this." Sam grumbled as he stood up, his chair scraping loudly against the wooden floor, echoing through the tension-filled bar. "I thought we could find some common ground, but I don't see what Cap sees in you."

"You're leaving? Just like that? After starting this whole mess? The frick is wrong with you?" Rocket's voice cracked a little, and if Sam felt bad at all, for anything there was no sign of it.

"Looks like it. You're resourceful, Rocket. I'm sure you'll figure something out."

Rocket ordered his drink shortly after, letting himself calm down before he called Rei for a ride, letting her know he was free early and giving her a short and very vague explanation of what happened without divulging the topic or what was said. As far as Rei knew he just got in a dumb argument with his ride.

/end flashback.

Rocket went outside as soon as he estimated she'd be close by and sure enough, Rei arrived to his rescue. Wasn't that ironic?

Even with him, angry, sad, and dealing with his own emotions, Rei still seemed to be able to fish a smile out of him.

"Ah... lucky for him he already left," Rocket teased as he let himself into the vehicle. Rei could probably smell the taste of liquor on Rocket, who was by no means totally drunk, but drinking a human sized glass of hard liquor did make him a little tipsy.

[thetrickster-blr-blog]

PYRA

Ember Crawford was born into a poor family in Glasgow, Scotland. Her father worked in Steel Mill as a smelter while her mother worked in a brewery. After her great-grandfather died, her family inherited the decaying Crawford Clan castle in the Scottish Highlands. While living in the castle, Ember spent a lot of her time in the castle's humongous library, reading books about knights battling the incarnations of evil. She loved every single story, and would often play knights and dragons with the family dog. When she turned 12, her father told her about their family history. Their ancestors used to be Templar knights back during the Crusades, and they used to be very rich up until the 1980s. Inspired to uphold her family legacy, Ember dedicated herself to learning the ways of the knight. She excelled in school, scoring at the top of her class in literature and sports. She took up sword-fighting in her spare time and soon became one of the best in the country. After she graduated from college, she moved to America to rebuild her family's fortune by working as the curator of the Natural History Museum in Washington, DC. A decade later, Ember had built up quite a successful life in America and was very close to achieving her goal of rebuilding her family fortune. She also worked as a part-time sword-fighting instructor. One day, Jackson Carlyle (a.k.a) Bonfire would make a decision that would change the lives of so many people. Seeing that the supervillain population has exceeded that of the heroes, Bonfire made a risky decision to sell the Super Power serum at a consumer level. Whoever wants to be a hero will be allowed to purchase it and will receive training from the Carlyle Corporation to master their powers as well as defending themselves. Seeing the ultimate way to fulfill her dream, Ember decided to sign up for the super program and was given the superpower serum. Her powers were the ability to control and manifest fire. Wanting to be a sword fighter as well as a flame thrower, she signed on for lessons from Ryuko and Bonfire to become the hero she always wanted to be. A few months later, Ember made her superhero debut to the world as Pyra, the flaming knight of honor.

[hasbr0mniverse]

G.I. Joe A Real American Hero! 1993 - Code Name: Blast-Off - Primary Specialty: Flame Thrower - Subgroup: Mega-Marines - "When I blast into battle with a flame thrower and a tank full of fuel, things REALLY get hot!"

[mastertreescout]

This little guy is one of the prides and joys of my collection. This is my interpretation of Vulkan He'Stan. In 9th edition he had one of the best aura abilities for Salamanders for really bringing the HEAT of your army's melta weapons to new degrees. Loved pairing him with Eradicators for full re-rolls.

I made him out of half a dozen kits from 40k and Age of Sigmar, as well as special resin bits I ordered for his helmet, fiery halo, and spear (The halo is also made from a clipped ring from a dog tag). The scale ridges on the cap took hours of careful placement and I had to get really creative to fashion the gauntlet flame thrower. I'm especially happy with how the size of his spear really reflects how it was made by a giant, who probably meant to either use it himself or gift it to one of his bothers before war broke out.

Now that 10th edition has just started and chapter specific rules have been limited to epic-heroes, I feel like he's my best option for really playing Salamanders instead of just playing green colored marines.