kayla/ink

it’s the mention of home that gets your attention. you lift your head up off your legs and you turn to face the man who’s taking up more space than necessary in your cell.

as bakugou gasps, you snigger.

what the hell is this guy wearing? those wings by his head? are the height of those boots to compensate for something else? 

you’re definitely human looking. two sparkly eyes, a nose in the centre of your face. nobody told him the alien was beautiful. fucking stunning.

he wants to go home now, he’s not prepared to be speaking to a woman like you after a ten hour shift. fuck, he doesn’t think he ever would be.

bakugou clears his throat. he stands up straight and tightens his arms across his chest. 

“you’re very… fuck, anyway,” he’s so goddamn embarrassing.

you start laughing, these light buttery giggles that feel like they’re breathing air into bakugou’s lungs. your eyes brighten, you even lean back on the wall like you’re taking a better look at him. he feels your eyes travel from his boots to the top of his head.

thank god this man has a pretty face, or at least he would if he stopped frowning because this outfit he’s wearing looks stupid. does anyone else on this planet dress like this?

you’re laughing… and it feels like it’s at him instead of with him. he knows he didn’t say anything funny.

“do you not know english? they always say i need to speak english for this shit.” he grunts, scratching his head.

damn, he’s finding it hard to even look at you directly. the orange compliments you, makes your skin glow, makes you— stay focused.

“i doubt you’re gonna know any japanese. d’you understand me now?” he tries and he sees the frown on your face. confusion.

“ah, so you understand english. you just don’t want to talk to me.” he punctuates by jabbing his thumb into his chest and then leaning on the wall behind him.

you roll your eyes, which only gets bakugou grinning, then he calms down. he doesn’t need to be reacting like he won the lottery over a reaction from you.

“what’s your name?”

nothing. you blankly stare at his face.

“why are you here?”

nothing.

“c’mon just say somethin’ so i have somethin’ to say to them outside. then you get to go back home.”

you swallow, resting your head in your palm.

“this is an odd planet. a traveller lands and you immediately arrest them, deprive them of sunlight and dignity,” you nod your head towards the toilet in the corner of the room, “treating me like a criminal.”

you’ve got an accent. one he can’t place from anywhere specific on earth. it sounds almost melodic, easy to understand and very clear.

“so the alien talks,” dynamight, you think he introduced himself as earlier, says amused, “you fell from the sky, at a speed none of us has seen before. it was so fast, not even our meteorologists caught it. then you came out of this metal-like sphere that isn’t quite metal, they’re still workin’ that out, in a coma. not to mention you set alight the fields you landed in, causing a wildfire through acres and acres of land.”

bakugou squints at you, “you can see why we’d have a fuck load of questions, right?”

you look away from him. fuck. you were told the earth on this planet would have been able to handle your ship, not that you’d start a wildfire.

“i didn’t… i didn’t hurt anyone, did i?”

bakugou’s quick to shake his head, “no, the farmer ushered out all the animals in time. though you did destroy a families hundred year old strawberry farm.”

“shit.” you mutter, in your language. then in english, “i’ll help them as soon as i’m out of here.”

there’s a hero complex to you somewhere. hm. “and to get out of here, answer my questions. yeah?” 

you sigh, “what do you want dynamo?”

bakugou’s face scrunches like a ball of paper, “dynamight. my name is dynamight.”

“is it actually? earth names didn’t sound like that when i researched.”

“it’s my fuckin’ hero name, i said that in my introduction at the beginnin’— you know what, never mind. call me dynamight. nothin’ else.”

you blink at him.

“what’s your name?” he tries.

he really wants to know your name. not for the sake of government purposes, just for himself.

“that’s personal, isn’t it?” you laugh but dynamight raises his eyebrows.

“not at all actually,” he breathes, equally restless and intrigued, “quick or we’ll be here all goddamn day.”

“you swear a lot, don’t you? is that normal?”

that catches bakugou off guard, he leans off the wall. “hah? you’re not askin’ me questions, woman. i’m doin’ the askin’.”

you chuckle, loud and sweet. “okay, okay! my name is yn.”

“yn,” he likes the sound of it on his lips, though it’s even better from yours, “yn where are you from?”

“why are you dressed like that?”

bakugou looks down at himself. he’s always been voted highly for best dressed hero. his black body suit, black and orange chunky boots. he’s got his wings at his shoulders. he doesn’t have his gauntlets on though, he doesn’t need them for this.

“this is my hero suit. how many times do i have to tell you, i’m a professional hero—.”

“hero,” you try, “is that your version of a protector? looking after civilians? the strongest of the people?”

bakugou can’t help but let his grin slip. he likes the sound of that. it’s all true. “y-yeah i am. currently third on the charts but i jump between one and two, so technically i’m the best in the country.”

you do an upside down smile, somewhat impressed. so this man is one of the strongest and cocky about it. his grin is cute too. his lips stretch wider, only one corner rising. a gold tooth shining. okay, his smirk is sexy.

“family must be proud.”

“they expected it,” he shrugs. wow, is it easy to get off topic with you. “any quirks?”

“quirks?”

“abilities different to the average.”

you scrunch your nose, “not that i know of.”

bakugou doesn’t know if he can trust you. “so if i took those handcuffs off you, nothing about you would change?”

honestly no. your body feels fine. mentally, not so much.

you snap the handcuffs apart, the middle chain breaking with ease, now appearing as two ugly grey bracelets on your wrists as the green glow slowly dies down. bakugou jumps at the sound, jaw dropping on command.

“what the fuck?” bakugou can’t even get out of those. he’s tried before in hero training. what are you? “why the hell didn't you get out of them before?”

“i…”

you’ve never experienced grief before and to experience it on the scale you are now... your parents, your family, your people, your home. all gone. you don’t think you wanted to break out of it yet.

“had other things on my mind,” you offer, looking up at this dynamight man. “what’s your… quirk?”

something about him is comforting. with those boots on, he’s as big as the men back home. just as wide too. 

so to get information out of you, he has to give a little back. that’s okay for now.

“i sweat nitroglycerin. can create explosions from my hands,” he gives you a little show, facing his palms up to the ceiling and creating little sparks.

that gets you facing him, now cross legged on the floor. you sound like a child, brimming with curiosity. you don’t recognise the word nitroglycerin but you can assume. “how big can you make them?”

bakugou chuckles to himself, slowly sinking to sit down too. “question for question then. so it’s my turn now.”

you huff, “fine.”

have you showered in these three days? you look as if you have. a beautiful glow like those women in skincare adverts he sees.

“how old are you?” not the most important question, but he’s got to know. they couldn’t have gotten a more selfish hero to question you.

“fifty moon shines,” you say without a beat. “how old are you? wait, let me see your explosions!”

“woah, woah, hold on. fifty?” you either look good for your age or—, “how are years measured where you’re from?”

“182 days. isn’t it my turn to ask a question?”

“how long are your days?”

“twenty three hours.”

bakugou relaxes. you’re the same age as him. 

“so you’re twenty five.”

“i just said i’m fifty.”

“to me that’s like you’re sayin’ you're a hundred in your time. you’re twenty five in this world, darlin’.”

“darling? what’s that?”

bakugou shakes his head. shouldn’t have said that. “nothin’. i’m twenty six.”

that pleases you for some reason. you both stare at each other for a few seconds, sizing the other up. you could take him in a fight you think. in bed too, if it came down to it.

“how big can you make your sweat explosions?”

bakugou winces. what an ugly name. “they’re not sweat explosions.” “but you said—,” “the size of buildings. could blow this whole building up. can also fly, use them as grenades, blind opponents, shoot them like a gun.”

he’s sharing too much now. you shouldn’t be telling your enemies your main attacks. it’s going to be a beautiful woman to take him down. that tarot reader kaminari took him to was right.

“that’s really cool, dynamight. i can’t do that.”

you sound honest, real. bakugou bends his knees and rests his arms on top. “it’s whatever. what can you do?”

you shrug, looking at your bare hands. there’s some dirt under your nails and they’re all chipped from your lack of basic essentials. “where i’m from, everyone is the same so i don’t know how different i am to you guys.”

bakugou gets that, “what’s the most you can lift—,”

“my turn now, hero. why’re you so pissy?” you ask, tilting your head at him.

bakugou can’t help the loud, “hah?” he sits up at that comment, hands flat on the floor.

“you came in here moaning. you swear in every sentence. you act like the world has done you wrong. what happened with you?” 

there’s a part of you that wants to find solidarity in this man. that perhaps he understands the pain you’re going through deep within your soul. after waking up from your coma three days ago, you feel sure the grief is going to eat you alive. you don’t want to hate the world, become evil and angry. you also don’t know how to not.

you get this blonde man blinking at you. a silence takes up the room quickly but you give him all the space in the world to speak.

“what d’you mean what happened to me? you think i have a sad tragic backstory like those american game show contestants?”

now you’re frowning back at him. you don’t understand that reference. “don’t you? or you’re just pissy for no reason?”

it feels like a weird competition now, that he should have something under his belt. something odd and sadistic to impress you with. bakugou bites.

“i died when i was sixteen. i fought a war and died.”

you’re not impressed. “how are you here now? i didn’t know this world has magic—,”

bakugou shakes his head, “nah not magic. another… another hero here fixed me up. brought me back.”

“oh,” you trail off, “and you’re fine now?”

he is. though it seems as if you’re looking for more. he deals with villain attacks often. fights them with his friends. he hasn’t been close to death since. he lives a wealthy luxury lifestyle now he’s professional and he’s got all his friends around him. all his greatest traumas he’s working through in therapy. yes, he goes therapy. 

you keep talking, “you’ve got both your parents? all your friends?”

“y-yeah i do? i answered your question, didn’t i?” he spits.

you roll your lips in.

“are you… are you laughin’ at me again?”

at that your dam breaks, giggles spilling out. your shoulders shake and your hand covers your mouth in an attempt to be polite. though you lost that once you had to use the toilet beside your bed being recorded by security. 

j“no, well yes! i don’t know, i thought you had a tragic backstory to explain your shitty attitude. guess it’s just you.”

bakugou’s walls go straight up. he doesn’t know who the hell you think you are to read him so easily. because yeah, maybe he is just a dick. but he owns it. he’s apologised for his mistakes in the past. he doesn’t hold all his worth to his quirk anymore and he doesn’t blame himself for anyone’s death. he’s actually quite well adjusted now.

“okay, so the fuck is your problem? why’re you on earth? where’s home? where’s your family? they just send you here and can’t be bothered to get you outta ‘earth jail’?” he snaps.

that slows your laughter down, your grin is the last thing to drop before pain shakes your heart. it’s a harsh squeeze that doesn’t let up.

“you’re not getting all of that out of me in one day. see you tomorrow, dynamight.” you’ve got nobody to come get you. 

bakugou hates how he likes the sound of that. another day, a reason to see you again. he’s got a whole load of questions to ask you but he’s got to get back to his other tasks for the day.

“fine, if that’s what you want.” he begins to rise to his feet. he’s too petty to be somewhat nice. “y’know if you cooperate we can send you home.”

you look up at bakugou, hugging your knees to your chest on the hard concrete floor. “i don’t have a home anymore.”

bakugou stands still, mouth open to speak but nothing right is about to come out. until there’s a rough knock on the door, one of the jail guards.

“you okay, dynamight? times up unless you need more?”

bakugou doesn’t take his eyes off you, now back to your original position with your forehead on your knees. he won’t be surprised if you move to fetal position once he’s gone.

“i’ll be back tomorrow, yn.”

you don’t bother replying to him but you hear his thick boots walk out. 

as soon as bakugou steps out the door, the guard pipes up.

“we saw she was speaking to you on cams! the alien’s gorgeous, isn’t she? doesn’t look like no damn alien either. what was she saying?”

the first thing bakugou does is shove the man away. “down my fuckin’ neck. i’m not sayin’ shit to you. who runs this place?”

in about an hour, you’re pulled out of your cell to a new room. one with a bedframe for your mattress, a pencil and a pad of paper. most especially, the toilet is in a separate room to your cell. you’re especially grateful when they remove your handcuff bracelets and don’t lock new ones on.

there’s no chance you’re going to thank dynamight for giving you your basic rights. you appreciate the changes to your new home though. 

I raeh uoy.

A new symphony was born, and the words of every language, ancient and yet to come, found their way to her.

“I wait for you, my priestess.” Your voice travelled realms, carried with centuries of hatred. “Sharpen your sword, for it’s long overdue that my bounds are severed.”

I leef uoy.

Magic, unrestrained and endless, filled her existence — Zatanna’s lungs burned with power, and her heart pumped fresh tides of arcane energy through every vein. It was all too much; her magic broke her apart and stitched her back together, until her fingers ceased their dance.

Eyes open wide, all-seeing, yet blind to everything but you, imprisoned on the other side of the void. Distant and unreachable. A smirk settled on her lips — unreachable?

“No, Prime Magus,” you murmured across the emptiness. “Not for you.”

Ton rof em.

Reality bent under her will. Her magic devoured every shackle, and shattered the bars of her prison. She reached out for you, and from the depths of your torment, your hand found hers.

There you were, bright in glory, and thirsty for power. Zatanna’s heart swelled with pride, and her distorted magic flowed between you. Free, at last, you could finally seek your vengeance, and your twisted desires corrupted hers, for the only bond she still bore was yours.

“Eht emit rof ruoy egnever sah emoc, ym evol.” Her order echoed through the four corners of the universe, once and for all.

© sozzoe. do not copy, post as yours, translate, or use my work for any AI purposes.

Warmth of her skin that'll never desert you; cuddles are a must. Touches always against yours and hers. Never so far apart, even if so, once back near each other it'll be hard to pull away

Still soft and warmth when your connected in bed. No matter where or the environment it's like an illness love, passion follows

Kisses of complete love. Every area of the body. To every scar. For every missing limb. Serving body on a complete platter for your darling Princess so that she can conduct her mission

She gives herself to you in complete and utter devotion. Protecting you at every cost, like all the others. Kissing your forehead everytime she leaves for a mission.

The earth breathes lovingly everytime you and Diana rejoice in the love. No matter if certain gods want that opposite.

Even if a world made only for chaos wants the destruction of such love

ZATANNA ZATARA

From days of being imprisoned to being loved by someone; it felt jarring

Only being able speak in backwards made it impossible to speak to others

So it was quite the surprise when you wanted her. All the of her despite her early actions

Zatanna, she's almost hesitant. No completely shy with her actions. Away from people since forever

Suddenly her words, compliments have begun to be direct as she's gotten more comfortable with you. Always smirking when you deciphered what she just said to you

Like that certain meme; My Hot Goth Witch Wife and Doing whatever she wants is the apitmity of your relationship.

Zatanna is happy when you accept her fully. Her entire being, magic enveloping you like a soft hug despite her demeanor on the outside.

Intended plan of Zatanna's downfall into the darkness didn't happen. You happened to her, pulling her to a place of good

Giving her the opportunity to find her father, to be a hero to change this world of only chaos

Like that of the Amazonian Goddessyou fight with the world is led off balance due to Zatanna's change. A certain woman of high status is at risk

Considering Zatanna's past experiences, with the woman who kept her captive will no doubt come after all that she loves; including you

And by any God's order, against every limit Zatanna will use her magic to keep you close

She slowed her wagon once her gaze caught the light from your lantern. You squinted, trying discern their faces when you could only see three silhouettes against the deep blue night sky. She stopped at the mouth of your property, before carefully turning down the modest dirt path. It was lined with fenced in cattle on the left and an empty grass field to the right. Your brows pulled together as you watched the wagon move slow and carefully towards you. She stopped short of your lantern's reach, and got off her horse. You knew she could see the gun strewn across your lap, so you weren’t exactly worried.

You were curious if anything.

“I never did believe my husband when he told me you sat out here like this.” She said, the light illuminating her sad face.

“Had to see it for yourself?” You asked, with a raised brow.

“Might as well, girls wanted to know too.” You let out a breathy chuckle at that.

“Pardon me ma’am, but I must say I’m glad to know the sheriff did talk about me, even if he did nothing to help.” Her face didn’t change, no anger for the slandering of her gone husband.

“He used to be a good man. And I’m sorry he didn’t do more for you.” She sighed, sending you a wavering smile before turning back into the darkness.

“Be seeing you.” You called, with a wave of the hand, but she didn’t respond. She stood in front of her horse for a minute before mounting and staring at you through the darkness.

“If he…if he comes back, tell him I’m going east—to my family.”

And then you watched as they were once again into silhouettes in the distance, turning away from the only life they had known and disappearing into the wide world.

You sat outside till the sky started to lighten, an ocean blue instead of the drowning darkness it was hours before. You pushed yourself up, doing a lap of your wraparound porch before heading to bed. Exhaustion had already been pulling at the corners of your mind, and as you got into your bed the interaction with the sheriff’s wife repeated in your head. You dreamt of the moment on an endless loop—her sad eyes staring widely through you before the sound of her broken voice echoed and bled into that of her horse riding away and dragging the old wagon with it. It filled your ears till the point you woke up a few hours later with a jolt, the distant sound of horse shoes clopping hanging in your mind.

You fell back asleep almost instantly after your body calmed down, unaware of the lone rider who had just passed your farm, dawning a wide brimmed black hat and old bandana stained red and something violent. He was the devil who rode a pale horse accordingly, the white streak in the rider’s blacker than night hair opposed the dark grey markings against the white of his mare's forehead.

The pair slunk into the mining town as the sun started to warm the sky, exhaustion tumbling over him as his grip loosened around the reins. His fingers and wrists ached, joints overstressed and burning. He had been riding for a lifetime, just trying to get his furthest away from Gotham, from the life he had made and burned to the ground in the growing city. His only memories stuffed into his pack, and the horse that had been gifted to him by a man who was a father to a boy long dead.

“Put up a tombstone that reads Jason Peter Todd because he is dead from this moment on. To you and Gotham. I will never be back here, not as anyone you know at least old man.”

Jason thought of those words as he passed a farmhouse, sprawling fences with a barn in the distance. He could see a cat walking along one of the gates, keeping an eye over the cows it seemed. He clicked his tongue when he realized his horse had come to a stop at his staring. She picked up her pace again, trotting into the town that had started to awaken. Whispers filled the streets before he showed up, no one even seeming to care for the stranger trudging into the small inn and the weary horse lapping up water from the trough outside. Jason kept his hat on, but pulled his bandana off his face as he stepped inside. It was dark, one candle by the front illuminating the man working and the lone patron eating breakfast.

The keeper seemed to startle at the sight of Jason, who laughed to himself as he approached. “Don’t see many customers this early, sir.” The innkeeper gruffed, earning a hum in acknowledgement. “Not too many passing through these days either.” He added, as Jason set down a handful of coins.

“Don’t need a room for the night, just a few hours and a meal.” He explained, earning a weary glance from the man.

“Were not tha—“

“Kind of establishment, I know. I’ll be leaving this evening.” Jason didn’t add more, holding the man’s gaze. He had just said business was slow, refusing him would be idiotic.

“Get out.” The man apparently was an idiot, and it made Jason scoff. If only this man knew who he had just refused—no. Jason pushed his anger aside, snatching up his coins before he turned on his heels. He wasn’t going to haggle with a stupid man, and arguing only made men stupider. He tied his bandana back around his face as he reached the door, stopping with his hand on the handle.

“Any work nearby?” He asked no one in particular, earning a scoff from the innkeeper before he was interrupted by the man eating his breakfast.

“Nowhere in town stranger, see the mines dried up sometime ago I hear. Some settlements deeper in the valley got work, railroad too, but that’s down West.” He explained between bites.

“Rotten work too.” He replied, earning a chuckle and nod from the bearded stranger, who finally met Jason’s gaze. His eyes were tired, that glassy blue grey colour that seemed to see beyond time.

“Ain’t that the God’s truth stranger!” He all, but hollered, suddenly livelier—younger than he looked moments ago. “Rotten is exactly what that work was—worst time of my life on the tracks.”

“You’ve had your chat, now get going!” The innkeeper interjected suddenly, gearing up to shout more when the bearded stranger slammed his hand on the wooden tabletop.

“Aye—cut it out. You were stupid enough to deny this mans coin for a room, let him buy a meal and chat with me. I like him and Lord knows you need the money.” Jason couldn’t stop the grin pulling at the corner of his lips as the innkeeper stammered for a response.

“F-fine, but you’re both—“

“Getting out after this, we know. Now come take a seat stranger.” The man gestured to the seat across from him. Jason glanced sideways at the innkeeper who seemed scared more than anything. It made his smile fall as he joined the older stranger, taking off his black hat and placing it on the empty seat next to him. The worker vanished somewhere in the back while the two men sat in silence. Until, “Aren’t you—huack—“ He choked before continuing “gon’ tell me your name boy?”

“Call me boy again—“

“Hey, hey. Stranger is it than.” The older man relented, coughing a few times into his shoulder before taking a swig of whatever swirled around his stained mug. “So you’re looking for work?”

“Aye.”

“You picked the wrong stretch of land bo…stranger, its dry and dead out here.”

“How ‘bout that farmhouse, the one few miles outside the town.”

The man laughed, the innkeeper who placed a bowl of what Jason assumed was porridge joined in, both men nearly going blue with their wheezy chuckles. “You would be a fool to take work there, it's where the mothers send their sons for farmhand training or a disciplining.” The innkeeper explained before wandering back to his post.

Jason eyed the man sitting across from him, prompting details with his silent gaze. “Used to be run by a family, all, but one dead and gone. And lemme tell you, the one left is a real son of a bitch.”

“Probably ran the old sheriff outta town—“ The keepers voice piped in from behind Jason.

“Heard they beat the crap outta some miner a year back—“

“They got a temper like no other—“

“Most of the town steers clear unless it’s for business—“

“Damn hard worker though.”

Jason took in the men’s information, downing his food in a handful of spoonfuls before tossing a few coins onto the tabletop. It was more than the innkeeper deserved, but information was always worth paying for.

“Good day stranger.” The old man called from where he sat. Jason slipped his hat back on, about to pull his bandana over his face when the shimmer of the star tucked away under the old man’s coat caught his eye. It was a brief glimpse, but Jason could see the start of the word SHERIFF curved along the bottom of the man’s badge.

It made Jason chuckle, eyes dragging from the badge to the man’s face noticeably so. He grinned as he pushed the door open to venture to this seemingly infamous farmhouse, “And good day to you…deputy.”

—