#Hero In Error | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

somewhereincairparavel · 7 months ago

Text

Annabeth Chase and Jason Grace - two sides of the same coin, an analysis post.

after a long wait, I've finally posted my analysis on jason/annabeth being similar, and mirroring eachother as rivals/potential sibling figures more than percy/jason's 'bro rivalry', based on this post of mine which has crossed over a THOUSAND notes in the last week alone, and I've been getting so many reblogs and comments asking me to expand on my tags in that post and do a full analysis. so here it is. I've been procrastinating this for quite a while now for some reason but I'm glad I'm over my writer's block and I got to articulate my post well enough.

annabeth and jason have had very minor interactions throughout hoo, but the parallels and similarities in their character is jarringly noticeable, which is why I hoped for a jason/annabeth rivalry and not a percy/jason rivalry. they've both been raised at their respective camps since they were literal kids, they were well versed in their respective fields of knowledge, and were well respected/intimidated in their camps.

let's start off with the lost hero

when jason first meets annabeth, he says that her eyes were really intimidating and fierce, so right off the bat, we have jason who's pretty put off by annabeth because she very obviously looked angry, especially since she was frustrated about jason's arrival instead of percy, and looked like she could kill jason to get percy back.

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

this parallels to a lot when hazel kept going on about how difficult it was to warm up to jason because his eyes were always calculating and cold, and he gave off an untrustworthy vibe, that he'd sacrifice anyone for the sake of the mission.

both annabeth and jason have a certain similar ‘look’ in their eyes, which have nothing to do with the color. they both have the tendency to make people nervous simply with their eyes, because they always look like they're thinking of new things every few seconds. Ironically, jason first perceived annabeth, the way everyone else perceived him. scary and intimidating with an icy glare and hardened eyes.

They were both said to be ‘studying’ each other in distrust many times throughout. A part of why they didn't trust each other, was, in my opinion, because they embodied their least favorite shared personality trait of each other, secretiveness and guardedness. which is why annabeth got on so well with percy, and jason with leo/piper.

they didn't admire the closed off-ish vibe that they gave eachother. they both needed people who were open and carefree.annabeth said that jason looked like he knew too much information, but chose to keep it all a secret, very similar to her own guardedness from time to time, keeping it a secret and wanting to deal with it silently.

we also know that annabeth and jason are extremely knowledgeable in greek/roman mythology, they both love debates and were quite passionate about history. they were both assigned architecture projects by the gods themselves as a mark of honor and favour.

moving on to the next most important point, they reminded eachother of the people they missed, causing them to feel resentful.

jason, barely met his sister after they reunited. he was bitter when thalia said he had to go look for percy to help out annabeth with the search. he was aware that thalia and annabeth were childhood friends, getting closer to eachother than jason and thalia ever did. she found a home in luke and annabeth, not even a few months after baby jason was thought to be ‘dead’, that knowledge would've weighed a lot on jason. annabeth became the sibling to thalia grace that jason could never be.

while annabeth? the only thing annabeth thought of, after jason had a face off with his mother's remnant in boo, was the fact that jason, who looks eerily similar to luke, could've experienced the exact same fate as him. luke was jason if he had more wrath and held grudges, jason was luke if he had less anger and resentment. annabeth could connect the dots so easily, and that was truly the moment where she gained immense respect for him.

and, when jason told annabeth that his sister was thalia? she had a very odd sort of expression on her face.

annabeth also quotes that looking at jason made her feel bitter, because he reminded her of heras exchange, and the fact that she lost percy for months. whenever she looked at jason, she would only see her two childhood friends, a found family that was broken, and a love that was challenged.

whenever jason looked at annabeth, he would be reminded that thalia had a closer contact to her than she did jason, and had to accept that he would never know thalia as much as annabeth does.

annabeth and jason also appear very confident and sure of themselves, but have second thoughts all the time. they had to put on a fake facade, to live up to their expectations and lineage.

they were both also sort of people pleasers, annabeth couldn't really say no to anyone who asked her for help with things, like carrying the sky for luke especially, because not only where they giving her a chance to execute her knowledge and skill, the thought of helping someone made her genuinely happy. jason also loved seeing people happy, always wanting to say the right thing to satisfy someone, even if it meant he had to sacrifice his own struggles to help them.

fatal flaws:

annabeth’s fatal flaw, is hubris. when you are confident and sure that you can do something, and have a sense of excessive self pride.

and jason's fatal flaw is the temptation to deliberate. hesitation and second guessing, to put it in simpler words.both fatal flaws are so different, yet so similar, and they have both flaws, just in a different viewpoint.

as a child of athena, annabeth appears super confident and even conceding at times because of her wisdom, but at the same time, annabeth had to make sure she was one step ahead of everyone. she had to rethink everything and had to have a plan in her mind all the time, fearing that things wouldn't go smoothly.

she had to hesitate and second guess herself alot, despite her knowledge, like she did when she knew she had to look for the mark of athena. piper and percy had to boost up her confidence with affirmations, to let her know she's on the right path and to just follow her gut. annabeth feels obligated to have a temptation to deliberate, because, as a child of athena, she has to be all knowing and wise, and most definitely cannot fail her mother.

and jason? despite having a very low sense of self esteem and hesitation, he was so used to leading the people who were considered slightly inferior to him in camp jupiter, and basically getting treated like a celebrity for 12 years of his life in camp jupiter, that often, he thought what he did was right, he had his own perception of what a hero should be, and I quote

[“No, no,” Jason said. “I made my choice. You’re not to blame. You don’t owe me anything except to remember what I said. Remember what’s important.” “You’re important,” I said. “Your life!”Jason tilted his head. “I mean… sure. But if a hero isn’t ready to lose everything for a greater cause, is that person really a hero?”He weighted the word person subtly, as if to stress it could mean a human, a faun, a dryad, a griffin, a pandos… even a god”- Tower of Nero]

which was normal, since he had everyone basically following his lead without question as a kid. he's expanded on this in his conversation with piper in mark of athena, where he said he felt weird to suddenly be around people who were either equal/or superior to him in power, and not being in the ‘lead’ particularly.

jason had hubris, but certainly not in a way that you would call it an ego or excessive pride. he was hardwired and brainwashed into having his own perception of what is right and what is wrong, that he thought he was always making good enough decisions, at least from a roman child soldier’s standpoint. [Like when he was okay with not saving nico because it might sabotage their mission, he genuinely didn't think what he said was insensitive until hazel called him out, because he was brought up that way. he thought he was doing the right thing, by prioritising the mission and the duty, first. Like the dutiful roman he was made to be].

both annabeth and jason, have hubris and a temptation to deliberate.

annabeth and jason, also had an extremely difficult time breaking free from the thoughts that their godly parents were always right. It took on alot of disappointments for both of them to stand up to their parents (and not just godly ones, mind you)

they've both had disappointing absent mortal and godly parents with a hostile stepmother involved and monitored with each and every one of their moves. annabeth has had to deal with her stepmother playing the ‘bad cop’ with her father not even coming to her defence, just the way hera came butting into jason's life and giving him terrible memories, taking him away from thalia, with zeus not even caring.

speaking of which, they are both the only demigods who have harboured the most amount of resentment for hera. just the sight of hera pisses them both off, as it hera, stripped off so much time away from annabeth and percy, and memories from jason, which he never permanently got back.

this is sort of irrelevant but I'll add this anyway, in boo, athena also immediately liked jason for calling out zeus's unfairness to apollo, saying something like 'the boy is right' and she gave him an approving/appreciative look for his wisdom, which is pretty rare for athena to say or do to literally any demigod ever. this makes me wonder if she ever saw jason as someone who had some sort of athena legacy in him, which is why she was so pleasantly surprised with him. ugh we could've so gotten jason and annabeth as potential sibling figures bc of how many parallels they have, too bad that the percy/jason rivalry narrative was pushed too hard.

I hope I've drawn enough parallels with their characters, as a lot of you have been looking forward to this post for a while, hopefully this analysis hasnt been underwhelming for you all to read!

@thevoidcaller @karmaajr @onestorytorulethemall @newlyfoundwren @thesummerstorms

514 notes · View notes

mediumgayitalian · 3 months ago

Text

Kayla will never tell her older brother in a million billion years. Plus one extra.

But she knows more about Lee Fletcher than he does.

It is not something she did on purpose. Nor is it information she necessarily wants, she most certainly did not ask for it. Nor is it information she will offer.

She will not tell him that she knows the crumple of Lee’s face when he tells a lie. She will not tell him she knows the stark pain in his shoulders at the end of the day. She will not tell him she knows the grooved scars on the palms of his hands from bitten-sharp nails. She will not tell him she knows the sounds of his quiet, pillow-muffled sobs as well as or better than she knows the sound of her father’s voice.

Instead she will watch him. And she will meet Lee’s tired eyes. And she will nod to him, and he will nod back, and they will both look at Will, exhaling.

———

The first time she sees him she is hallucinating.

Genuinely. Medically diagnosed and everything.

“Kayla,” Will whispers, and there is a strain in his voice, as there always is when one of them is sick. “Kayla, dolly, the cloth needs to stay on your head.”

“Cold,” she sobs, “please, Will, I’m so cold.” Dolly. Dolly. He calls her dolly when she’s crying, when the tips of her fingers are bleeding and her knees are scraped raw and she screams if he gets too close to her. “‘M so —”

Her teeth clack hard together so hard her mouth glues shut. And the ice in her finger and toenails fires up her veins and pricks through all of her capillaries, turning her solid, and it burns, and it aches, and she bawls enough that acid burns up her throat and dribbles down her chin, down her shirt, in her bed. And over the heart pounding in her ears she hears her older brother exhale a soft little broken moan and choke it back just as fast and his always-warm hands brush over her cheeks, and she groans and squirms away from it and cries harder, and he whispers “Hold on, dolly, the fever’s almost broken, I can feel it,” and she opens her eyes and he is there, hair longer, hair neater, lab coat starched and collar covered in old Star Wars stickers, bulky glasses barely clinging to his face, tears soaking his long, angular face.

And Kayla squints, and the freezing ice recedes ever so slightly, sparking just under her skin, and she tilts her head, and she stares at him, at his freckle-free face, and whispers, “…Will?”

And he squeezes his eyes tighter and begs, “One more time, kiddo, I’m so sorry. One more time. I can’t help you if I can’t touch you. Pull back the light, baby, I can’t see, you have to control it just a little more. Just enough so it doesn’t burn. Please.”

And she squints again and Will-not-Will wavers, and the infirmary lights blink off his tears, off the lens of his glasses, and the. she squints again and the lights are dimmer, and the lab coat is gone, and his hair is frizzier.

“What,” she croaks, and Will pats her hair, and his hands are rough like she’s used to, and his round face is wet, and his scrubs are barf-stained, again, and he is smiling, tears dripping into his mouth, bright blue eyes clear, and he laughs and touches his forehead to hers.

“One-oh-one,” he whispers, shoulders shaking. “You’re safe, dolly. Your brain is out of the oven. Gods. Holy shit. Holy shit, Holy God, Holy Hera.” And he starts to pray.

She exhales hard, exhales, and forgets about it.

———

The next time her brain is not cooking hard enough her proteins are denaturing.

The next time she is sleep deprived, which does not help her determine reality.

She is lucid enough to notice the change, though.

She should not be awake. This much she knows. Will had sent her to bed hours ago, a half-hour after Austin and a full hour after the kids — as is her right; she is a full 13 years old — and she went, not without grumbling. And she meant to sleep. She usually does. But the moon was bright, and unusually warm. And the fairy lights twinkled with twice as much laughter than usual. And the audiobook her daddy sent her was just so enticing, just so flowery and beautiful, and as she listened to the gravel-low voice of the woman narrating and stared out the window she could see it playing out, plain as day, over the silver-washed hill of Thalia’s tree and the gentle giggling of the Atlantic waves.

She’s not supposed to be up late enough to watch Will creep in.

But she is, and that’s that. She hears the creak of the rickety screen door, slow like he’s trying to keep it quiet, and holds her breath, careful to make all her muscles react to keep her from being seen. The cabin is big but not that big and she sees him quickly, out of the corner of her half-closed eyes, tiptoe careful across the wooden floorboards, hopping over the noisiest ones, resting at the side of each of their beds and waiting, watching at the ends of them, shoulders dropping, eyes blackened and eyebags heavy. After a moment at each he reaches out his burned hands, resting gently on her siblings’ foreheads, and closes his eyes, exhaling, letting the fiery warmth from his palms spread slowly through their veins, wrapping strands of sunlight neatly around them like spider silk. As it recedes he sighs, in exhaustion or relief, and holds his hand, for a second, breathing in, breathing out, and moving on.

He comes to her last.

She has relaxed her breathing by then. She is thirteen years old and remembers every day of it; knows how to twitch her muscles and murmur in gentle sleepiness, knows how to breathe til her heart goes slow and flicker her eyelids so her face shows its dreaming. Daddy checks on her too, when she’s home, and she likes to stay up for him, likes to wait, likes to savour the feel of his string-callused fingertips and soft cool palms.

“I know you’re not sleeping, you little twerp.“

He flickers again — she sees it this time — and the heat of his hands fade a bit. His face gets a little longer, chin a little pointier, and the wild curls around his head mellow into something wavier, something gentler and more tamed. The glasses balancing on his wide nose are unbelievably thick, thicker than Julia’s whose prescription is a joke, and make his blue eyes look buggy, beetle-shaped. He’s got half as many freckles but that could be the moonlight. His smile is the same.

“I know what REM feels like, you know.”

She says nothing and keeps breathing. He sighs. He strokes a thumb against her forehead and it is familiar, and she knows, immediately then, that it is her brother who strokes her, who guards the foot of her bed.

“I’m gonna go get ready for bed. If you’re not asleep by then I’m gonna smother you, ya pain in the ass.”

He pulls away and she watches, follows the thwack of his falling-apart Converse, the rise of his gentle humming. He pulls tiny bathroom’s door shut and the humming swells along with the fireflies, echoing soft and melodic in the kind-of-big cabin, and she means to stay awake, really. She wants to watch him transform again, wants to watch his shoulders grow back and his spine stretch straighter. Wants to see the familiar roundness of his cheeks.

But his voice is so beautiful, and the scrape of his toothbrush is as rhythmic as ever, and the moon is so high in the sky. Her audiobook fades to silence as she slips away, warmed, into the cradle of her bed.

———

The third time she sees him there is no excuse.

It is the dead middle of summer and he is exhausted. The camp swells with the sum of them all, with the drum of running footsteps and crashing swords and crowing laughter. Her brother lives in the infirmary, practically; no matter how many times he is dragged out he keeps sneaking back, keeps slipping out of his friends’ sight and falling right back into his scrubs, hair pulled back.

“You are not supposed to be here,” Kayla says crossly. “Your shifts are done for the week.”

He smiles guiltily and the change is immediate. The slant of his shoulders is identical, the curve of his grin is unchanged, but the glossiness of his eyes fades away, and the strange ghost of her brother takes full shape. He is different, in the clear sunlight. A familiar stranger. He grins at her widely and turns on his heel, strolling to the mortal medicine cabinet.

“And who died and made you head honcho, Sunshine?” She blinks in surprise, glancing down at her hands. That is a new one. Sunshine.“It’s the busy season. I’m only keeping up with demand.”

“You’re gonna wear yourself right out,” she hears herself say. “Right out, and then what?”

“And then the sun will keep shining,” her brother says. “Besides, you’ll be taking over in no time. You’re already better than me, squirt.”

It’s an odd thing to say — she isn’t. By virtue of her parentage she can heal, and she can sing the hymns. But her strength is in her bow and her violin; her strings, not the stretch of bandages or shine of the suture. Will knows it. This brother, though, the one who stands in his place, is not speaking to her.

“I am?”

“‘Course. You know anyone else who can drag an errant soul right back into a body?”

Yes. She’s seen Will do it on more than one occasion, on more than one justification. She’s seen how it makes Chiron’s lips tighten and the atmosphere go dark. There is healing, and then there is blasphemy and challenge. Will walks the line like no one has since Zeus struck the challenger clean off the Earth.

This brother is not talking to her.

“Am I really going to take over, Lee?”

She says it carefully, because she isn’t sure. There are no pictures and Will tells no stories. But she hears whispers, sometimes, from the scattered few who knew them both, who watch Will corral the lot of them to breakfast or take the reigns of the chariot or calm hysterics with a touch, who whisper: “Sometimes I look at him and it’s like seeing a ghost.”

Her brother smiles a wide thing at her. It is as soft as she remembers. “Course, baby. No doubt in my mind.”

———

The fourth time she sees Lee Fletcher, she makes him come.

She waits very carefully. He comes when Will’s tired, she hypothizes. When his own strength won’t stand. So she waits, for the second wave of camp flu, for his lead on the climbing wall, for the rare nights when Gracie gets cranky and homesick and stomps around the cabin, throwing things and yelling. She waits for the look in his eyes, for the glassiness to smooth into something soft and reverent, something timeless.

It does not come when she expects.

The fourth time they are sitting together. Or, Will is sitting, legs tucked under him on the side bench, and Kayla stands, breathing careful, arms pulling elastic taut.

Her third missed shot, he is behind her.

“Relax you jaw,” he suggests. “Your tension is throwing you off. Let yourself hit the edge — it’s a new challenge, kid. No need for a bullseye.”

“I always get a bullseye,” she argues.

Lee smiles. His eyes are different, she realizes. They’re — constant. Blue. Like hydrangeas.

Will’s change with the sky.

“Bullseyes are a process.” He puts a steady hand on her elbow, tilting it slightly. “You gotta aim for the bigger picture before you focus on the details. The bullseye will come. Start with hitting the target.”

She huffs, scowling, but he’s right, and on her fourth shot the arrow lodges, just on the edge of the compacted wood.

Lee cheers. That, she sees clear as day, is identical, from the strain of his arms to the crow of his whooping laughter. He even does the same clumsy, dorky dance that sends him sprawling.

Kayla smiles past the lump in her throat.

———

The fifth, sixth, and seventh times pass without her counting, as does everyone one beyond. They happen in stretches and in the blink of an eye — the shapes of his mouth when he yawns, the drawl of his fed-up sarcasm. The weight of his elbow on the top of her head, grinning as she shoves him off, the shake of his deep, bone-rooted sigh when he thinks she’s asleep and his entire body strains, curled up under his favourite quilt. The weight of his ‘v’ in I love you.

She almost stops looking.

“What did he look like?” she blurts, one evening when he takes them to the beach. The rest of them are up ahead, Austin chasing the younger ones up the muddy sand.

Will freezes, just barely, then walks on with a forced lightness, swinging his loose arms between them.

“Who?” he asks, voice light.

Kayla gnaws the inside of her cheek.

“Your older brother.”

“I had four, at one point.”

He says it quiet like he does at the campfire, when it’s only the older kids left but she’s managed to stick around, holding her breath so they won’t notice and send her away. When Will lies back on a log and matches his breathing to the flames, eyes unseeing, and Annabeth watches him carefully and whispers, “Play us something, Will.” And he picks up the guitar he keeps dusty under his bed and sings something soft like there’s no hardness left inside him. No bowstring.

“When he laughed, you could hear it across camp,” he says quietly.

Kayla had not specified which brother but he knows anyway, had been waiting for her ask, and she strains to hear, now, leans in over the turn of the waves and shifts of the sands and strives for every note, every chord of his voice. “He invented a full name for me so he could holler it when I got in trouble. William Andrew.”

“I didn’t know he made that up.”

A ghost of a smile turns Will’s lips. “Yeah, it stuck real good. Even Chiron forgets I wasn’t born with it, actually. He yells it, too.”

He tilts his heart to the sky and stares at the clouds, exhaling, hands still by his sides.

“I was his favourite,” he says finally. “He wasn’t supposed to have anybody, but he loved me. He watched me real careful. He was —” he swallows — “I loved my brother, you know. To the sun and beyond it.”

He stops, turning to the waves. She lets him and watches his back, watches the shape of his scapulae under his camp shirt.

“I wish I still had him.”

The air shifts beside him, then. She sees Lee next to him, this time, not in place of him, with a broad hand on his shaking shoulder, a tanned forehead pressed to his temple. He turns to her, when Will breathes normally again, and winks, blinking back away as the clouds move from the sun.

“I think he’d be real proud of you.”

“Yeah?”

Kayla hesitates. “I mean — yeah. You’re like him, you know? You stand like he does.”

Will is smiling, softly, eyes red.

“I’ll have to show you a picture of him, sometime.”

“Yeah.” Kayla smiles, exhaling deeply. “Yeah, I’d like to see him.”

338 notes · View notes

thebrainrotsreal · 1 month ago

Text

IT’S DONE AT LAST! A real short excerpt from around chapter 115 ??? Literally one of my favorites lmao, so it deserved to come to life! Tweaked the dialogue a tad, so might be wonky! Tho, I got to draw my fav guy in the planet excessively so who’s rlly winning? :] Might do an alternate colored version sometimes soon! :3

close ups below because I can.

Can you tell who my favorite is? It’s rlly difficult.

#the brainrotsreal's art tag ✧˖°:*♡#fanart #digital art #procreate art #gsgw spoilers #baek saheon #kim soleum #ghost story work #gsgw #goedamchulgeun #Brainrot took a massive step back from completing this lol #I ammmmmm tired y’all #Forgot how much effort comics are lol #there are no spelling errors thanks to our lord and savior Kim Soleum amen. Fav cult leader I love this fucking arc smmmmm #fan comic #artist on tumblr #Fun fact this was gonna be 4 pages but then I regained my sanity #Loving my style lately too might use my blorbos for some real anatomy practice I’ve been lackingggggggggg #KIM SOLEUMMMMMMM BEST GUY EVER ILYYY #hope I am not just an artist to you guys but become that one “Kim Soleum” artist lol #Might get into JJk or dmc or to be hero x next idk #I need a poster of this mf on my CEILING I LOVE HIM

182 notes · View notes

scarlettphantoms · 6 months ago

Text

two very self-indulgent doodles :33

#character art #bnha hawks #takami keigo #bnha #mha fanart #mha hawks #my hero academia #artists on tumblr #keigo takami #dabihawks #toukei #touya todoroki #todoroki touya #my little pony #error sans #errorink

402 notes · View notes

ihaveastainonmyshirt · 4 months ago

Text

HERES SOME DRAWINGS I MADE!!!:3

108 notes · View notes

demigod-shenanigans · 8 months ago

Text

Fun fact: according to the ultimate guide, apparently it’s very common for children of Hephaestus to have acrophobia (fear of heights) due to the whole “their dad got tossed off Mount Olympus as a baby”-thing.

Now, isn’t it so interesting how that was never a problem for Leo…

I think we could have so much fun with this for Valgrace purposes. Either actually have Leo have that fear of heights and slowly unlearn it because he realizes Jason will always be there to catch him if he falls.

Or. Make it so that it’s just never been a thing for him at all. (Maybe the Fates decided with the whole “storm or fire”-prophecy and him needing to defeat Gaia, having him be afraid of heights would be a little inconvenient. Maybe Hera made him unlearn it as a child, since she’s the reason children of Hephaestus usually have that fear.) Either way, none of Leo’s siblings understand the inherent comfort he feels in the air. The excitement he feels over fixing Festus and attaching his wings. The way he grins when he feels the wind against his face as he’s falling, knowing he’s going to be okay even before Jason slams into him, holding him fast.

#Disclaimer: that’s one of the companion books I actually haven’t read I got this off the wiki #Also I’m convinced this is not based on anything thematic at all and just another addition to the grand series of rrverse continuity errors #However. I think we can and should use it for fun #valgrace #leo valdez #heroes of olympus #hoo #jason grace #leo x jason #jason x leo #The lost hero #Leo pjo

301 notes · View notes

allaboutherock2011 · 3 months ago

Text

RADAR Festival 2025: final headliner, Bob Vylan, plus Vukovi, As December Falls, and four more acts announced

The award-winning, genre-busting RADAR Festival is proud to unveil its final headliner for the 2025 edition, plus a further six world-beating acts, alongside day splits and afterparties. Joining the previously-announced headliners, darkwave heavyweight Carpenter Brut and metalcore legends UNDERØATH, are the unbeatable Bob Vylan. Also in today’s announcement: Vukovi As December Falls Dream…

0 notes

to-revive-a-tulip · 4 months ago

Note

Oh hi Sunny :-)

What superpower would you like to have if you had the choice?

<< < Ch1 Index >

🤍 Donate on Patreon to help the blog and receive exclusive sneak-peaks and new installments early

116 notes · View notes

maidenborn · 9 months ago

Text

Detective Love-struck!

Shoto x reader in which Reader discovers a love letter in her locker, and recruits deku to help her. fem reader, maybe oc deku and shoto idk, reader has an older brother, first little fanfic thingy, I haven't written in god knows how long don't burn me at the stake plz

Word count: 1,707

When you were younger, stupider and shameless, you and your only friend Shoto, would play detective during your free time together. At the age of five, you and your comrade had already solved ONE case, the infamous 'who stole older brother's motorbike?!' case, which you and shoto apparently 'took credit for' or whatever that means. Despite how much you swore to your brother how you and Shoto knew where it was before the police. And how you tipped the cops off with your super secret telepathy quirk that no one but shoto knew about.

He responded with a, "well if you're so smart why don't you figure out where my old 3DS is?? by the way, you don't have telepathic powers, forehead." You'd clench your fist every time that cursed nickname left his lips, but anyways, you accepted his challenge, walking away cursing him with the most vulgar name you could think up, telepathically of course. you swear you heard his breath stifle in shock as you stomped off, coincidence? I think not.

Your winning streak of problem solving ended with anger at your rivals, the police down the road, when they refused to let you into the station after you relentlessly demanded that they let you see the files of fifty year-old unsolved homicide case. The next day you sulked to Shoto during lunch, who stared at you with that blank stare he always does."you tried to break in again?" An accusation?!?!?!? The tipping point.

You fake-angry threw your paper cut-out detective badge, that you and your best-friend made during arts and crafts, with all your strength, only for it to slowly flutter to the ground awkwardly. That day you announced your retirement from the force. Claiming all the hard thinking was giving you wrinkles, that only caused shoto to look more confused, tilting his head to the side. "Wrinkles?"

"On my forehead." You huffed.

Your interest for the antics of detectives on tv and corny live-action crime thrillers died off as your ambition and hope to become a real life pro hero ignited, as did your connection with Shoto, even if you started to see him less frequently as the years of your childhood passed by. It was a blessing that you managed to land a place in class 1-A alongside your companion. Your bond reinvigorated, grew stronger as you were reunited with the boy, the lingering figure of his father, Endeavour had dissipated, granting the boy a newfound freedom. You found yourself spending almost all your free time with him now, way more than you ever did when you were kids. And you were grateful for it. So very grateful.

Now, both you and him had matured, albeit not a lot since you were both fifteen, but in a fifteen year olds eyes, it was a lot. The boy's once chubby cheeks now had a more slim-chiseled appearence. His head of hair was the same length, perfectly split down the middle, not one stray hair misplaced on either side. His eyes were more narrowed and stern, still fronting that blank look that his eyes always held. However hard his stare was when he looked at others, he'd never dare look at you with that coldness, whenever he caught himself glancing at you his creased brow would almost immediately flatten. His gaze defrosted into liquid, a softness so delicate and reminiscent of the early days of your relationship. The days where he'd follow you around, craving the warmth of your presence, your smile, you, and everything a five year old brat could offer. In your case, it was friendship.

You and him were two peas in a pod, Detective Shoto and his partner, Sometimes in class you'd daydream about playing detective with him, like how you used to, but you guess you both were a little too old for that now. Besides it's not like there was any mysteries to be solved in the halls of Yuuei.

Not until today.

"a love letter!?!? oh wow!" Deku shrieked a bit too loud for your liking. His whole body shook as he held onto the straps of his backpack. A few students lingering around the halls looked towards the commotion.

"Yeah but shhh!" You leaned closer to the boy pressing your finger to your lips harder and harder. " I don't want anyone to know, it's embarrassinggg! What if they're messing with me? I don't even know who wrote it! I don't wanna get my hopes up you know..." You mumbled that last part, your finger silencing yourself made it hard to talk. You've never been popular with the male species, only ever receiving confessions as jokes from more popular, less disliked, boys. Not that you minded all that, you had a best friend after all, and he was a boy! You were considered popular and you were liked by him!

You tossed your head about to shake the thought of Shoto to no avail. You felt you cheeks heat up. "Can you read it out to me? Maybe they gave a clue as to who they are!" Deku ignored the redness in your face, chalking it up to nervousness. Yeah, you were nervous alright, nervous about what Shoto would think. He's always been relentless in the pursuit of your attention, you couldn't help but wonder how he would react to all this. Would he be mad? No why would he. He has no reason for all that.

You take your time reading out the letter you found in your locker, looking up to meet Izuku's eyes after every sentence, waiting to see if he caught on to any hidden meanings written in-between the lines of the confession. You'd read the letter countless times, scanning over every word to no avail. Only deciding to drag Deku into your conundrum as he was walking past. Whoever had written the letter gave no clue towards their identity. It was just a confession. No 'can you meet me behind the school later today?' or ' will you go out with me? Just an ordinary love letter. Apart from the last section. At the bottom of the paper read a slightly threatening, ominous quote:

"I'll set your heart alight. "

The words made your chest tighten, but not in a good way. It gave you a funny feeling in your stomach, such a normal letter ending so strongly, you were kind of unsettled. "Don't you think that last parts s'a little odd?" You mentioned after finishing up reading. "Kinda sounds like a threat to me." You suddenly gasp, "What if our undercover lover is a villain! They could be plotting to kidnap me ..or worse!" Due to recent events, everyone had the possibility of kidnapping looming over them.

" Umm.. I doubt that a villain could sneak into Yuuei, especially now. I think it was maybe just an attempt romance." Deku chuckles, trying to lighten the mood.

"No I seriously thi-

"Yn. Midoriya." Shoto Todoroki stood behind you. You hadn't even noticed him sneaking up on you, whether it was his intention or not, he scared you straight.

"Oh! Hi Shoto!" You calmed yourself, turning your head to make eye contact with him. He only grew closer to you, taking the eye contact as permission to get closer. You could feel the air get hotter as he lingered next to you, reaching his head forward so he could peek at what you were holding so tightly in your hands. His eyes offering no insight to his current emotion whatsoever.

"What is that?" Tilting his head. Suddenly embarrassed you smushed the paper into your chest, crinkling it. "Uhhh.. I got a letter! I don't know who it's from though. Not that it matters." You shrugged. Nice, the nonchalant approach.

"What kind of letter?" He strained his neck for a moment longer before backing up. Face still, ice cold. You sighed at his retreat. Anxiety welling up in your stomach, 'why the hell am I so paranoid for?' You thought.

You were about to dodge the question when Deku asnwered for you, "Its a love letter! From someone unknown, we're actually trying to figure out who it could be from!" At that you crumpled in defeat. Thanks a lot Izuku. Why the hell are you trying to cover it up so much anyways? Huh?!? Your inner monologue accused you.

"Oh." He stepped back even more, No longer feeling his warmth, the hall seemed a whole lot colder without him so close, you urged to scuttle up to him, Only to turn to see Shoto preparing to leave.

"Would you like to help us Sho?" You offered, not wanting him to go so soon. Leaning at the hip towards him, head tilted down, eyes looking up at him.

"No thank you. I have to go, Goodbye Yn, Midoriya, good luck." And at that he started to walk away. You rushed to find something to say, deciding to just let him go, offering a small, "Bye Sho." Along with Izuku's cheery goodbye. 'Was something wrong? Did I do something wrong?' Your spiralling thoughts were soon interrupted by Deku," I wonder what that was all about." The look on Izuku's face mirrored yours, laced with confusion, only less angsty than yours.

"he's probably just busy with assignments or something, wants to get ahead." You chirped, lightening the tension.

"weird of him to turn down an opportunity like this though, he's usually all over this kinda stuff, he's a real hardcore theorist sometimes!... don't tell him I said that."

"oh really?" you jest. Tension dissolved, nice. As if you and him weren't attempting to solve murder mysteries during break time a couple years ago. The memory returning to you, you can't help but feel a little sad.

A couple moments of silence and then, "Ive got it! we could track them down through their handwriting!"

"yeaahhh... but the letters printed!" you retired the letter from your iron grip with an obnoxious groan, provoking a handful of glances from students passing by. "good idea though." You shrink into yourself a little, eye twitchy as you try to disappear through sheer willpower.

"the culprit has thought this out really well.."

"Yeah.. no clues or anything. Apart from the curse at the end."

"Yeah."

AAAAAAHHHHHHHHH PLZ LET ME KNOW IF YOU ENJOYED THIS IM WORKINT ON A PART TWO!!!

I don't rlly know how to write stories like this, perchance ill turn it into a mini series or something

part 2

#shoto x reader #mha #my hero academia #todoroki x reader #shoto todoroki #shoto todoroki x reader #AAAAAAAH FIRST FIC HELP #reblog please #mha x reader #PLZ LET ME KNOW IF U LIKE IT #Feedback plz I crave attention #also if there's any errors with spelling or punctuation plz ignorw #todoroki imagine #mha todoroki #mha deku #izuku midoriya #mha shoto #maidenborn

146 notes · View notes