This is me.

BNHA stuff. Trying to adapt S Class Rank 15 Metal Bat from OPM into BNHA. I had this on my mind for a while. Don’t have a name in my mind so I’ll use a placeholder for now. Should be longer, but Eh.

Special Officer Kamogawa slides to a stop when he catches the glint of metal by the corner of his eyes. It was exactly where he expected the escaped fugitive to be.

Hero Killer stain had escaped. Barely. But he had escaped and he was on the run. Kamogawa’s unit had been notified the moment the criminal had escaped, and he hadn’t even bothered to take a cop car. His mind was going way too fast for that. Where could Stain be? Should he look for heroes in distress?

But apparently he needed to answer none of those questions.

“Chizome Akaguro.” He says, loud enough only for the intended recipient to hear it. “You are under arrest.”

He watches Stain carefully. The villain’s back was to him, but he could see the tension in his shoulders. Stain was ready to fight.

Kamogawa accepts his fate. So will it be, then. He takes a more aggresive stance.

“You better come without a fight.” Kamogawa says. “I will use force if necessary.”

“You are one of those ‘Special Cops’, aren’t you?” Stain growls. Kamogawa feels a chill run down his spine. “Cops with quirks?”

Kamogawa says nothing, watching carefully for a move.

“You are heroes too, in a sense. Aren’t you.”

Stain knows this man. Special Officer Kamogawa. He’s the captain of the Villain Control Unit, tasked with controlling and arresting villains.

Kamogawa’s face hardens. It wasn’t a question. It was a statement.

“You think you can kill anyone that doesn’t fit your view of a hero?” Kamogawa says, his voice low, deep, and full of bubbling hatred. He reaches behind his back and pulls out a metal baton. He was terrified, but he was a cop, the last line of defense for the citizens. He either protects or dies trying.

“Come, let me educate you.” is the last thing Kamogawa says, beckoning him.

Stain and Kamogawa roar as they charge towards each other. Stain launches himself into the air, and watches Kamogawa. Kamogawa doesn’t swing, so stain swings instead.

But in one instant, the baton is by Kamogawa’s side, and in the other, it has made contact with stain’s jaw. It was a clean hit, square across the face, and it sends the villain crashing into the concrete.

“Who...gave you permission...to attack me?” Kamogawa growls. He swings again, and Stain manages to dodge just in time. The impact creates a crater in the concrete, ringing out like a gunshot in the night.

He’s far stronger than the heroes I’ve met, Stain thinks. I can’t let him land another hit, or I’m dead.

“You fucking coward.” Kamogawa seethes. “Running around like a hamster.”

Another swing, and it nearly lands. Its just a graze, but has enough force to tear his flesh open. Stain bites down a gasp.

He knows my quirk. He’s trying to keep distance. But what is his quirk? Speed? Strength?

“What’s the matter, Chizome? You finally realized you’re weak?” Kamogawa continues to berate the villain. “You finally realized you aren’t going to last seconds in a head to head fight against someone your match? YOU AREN’T EVEN A MAN, FORGET CALLING YOURSELF A HERO KILLER!”

This changes something in the Villain. Stain suddenly changes his course. In a matter of split seconds, Kamogawa has a knife buried in his shoulder, but the Villain is finally in his most lethal range.

Chizome can’t dodge the fist. If Kamogawa’s baton felt like a baton, the fist felt like a sledgehammer. He blacks out momentarily, but is woken up again when he feels Kamogawa’s arm wrapping around the knife arm. Kamogawa twists his arm, forcing the villain to double over. Stain knew what was about to happen, but the fight was finally in his favor.

He licks at the droplet of blood that had managed to reach him, and feels Kamogawa go stiff. Stain extracts the jagged sword from its hilt.

“A false hero doesn’t GET TO TEACH ME THE IDEALS OF BRAVERY!” Stain screams this time, and swings his katana. The feedback is delicious, and he hears the sound of flesh being cut.

The sword went clean through one side of Kamogawa’s midriff, out the other, but Kamogawa shows no pain. Only grit teeth and blazing brown eyes.

“Is that all you got?” he rasps.

Stain twists the sword to get a reaction, to break this psychological dominance, but for the first time he feels unsure, when Kamogawa starts moving. Its minimal, almost like spasms, but its surely movement.

He should be paralyzed! How is he moving?!

“Chizome Akaguro, Quirk: Bloodcurdle. Ingesting someone’s blood paralyzes them, but the strength depends on the blood group. Weakest is O. The weakest, however, is O negative“

Stain’s eyes widen, which is the only thing he’s able to do before Kamogawa’s head turns to him, slowly, jerkily. Stain’s quirk hadn’t completely stopped him, but wasn’t completely useless either. Kamogawa must be pushing his body to its breaking point to be able to move just that much

Stain does a few more attacks as Kamogawa slowly regains motor function, but none of them seem to draw a gasp, or any evidence of pain. Stain creates distance the moment he feels the fingers nearly scratch his face off.

“You think I’m a hero? A pillar of good? A hero just serves up villains for us to arrest. They can’t kill, they can’t cripple, they can’t show you what they can do.”

Stain knows he’s picked the worst match to go against. He’s slashed at the man’s legs, and he stands up slowly more out of rage than pain.

“I, have no such obligations.” He says.

Kamogawa straightens up. If Stain carried unshakeable strength in his eyes, Kamogawa carried death in his.

*

KAMOGAWA

QUIRK: ATTRITION

DESCRIPTION: The longer the fight goes, the stronger Kamogawa gets. With increasing anger combined with fighting spirit, Kamogawa’s strength, speed, agility, reflexes, durability, and resistance increases.

Theoretically, if a fight goes on long enough, it is possible for his power to approach infinity.

The biggest weakness is that Kamogawa is virtually quirkless until his quirk brings him up to a strong enough power level. His quirk is passive and untrainable.

*

“Come.” Kamogawa says, and its Stain’s turn to feel a chill run down his spine. “I’ll show you what being on the business end of a state-sanctioned killer feels like.”

Chizome intercepts Kamogawa’s punch with his sword, but the police officer just opens his palm and catches the sword. The sword definitely does damage, but Stain is convinced it hadn’t done anything to Kamogawa. The cop twists the blade and it breaks.

Stain gives it his all, and for a handful of minutes, he pushes himself as hard as he can, trying to go as fast as he can, swinging his sword as much as he can, using his quirk as much as he can, but Kamogawa only seems to get stronger.

Stain doesn’t want to admit it, but it also seemed to be getting easier for him.

He uses his quirk and puts all of his body in a strike that should surely knock the cop out, but Kamogawa doesn’t even move.

“WHY WOULDN’T YOU JUST DIE!?” Stain roars in frustration. “WHAT IS YOUR QUIRK?”

The moment stain’s foot slides off the cop’s face, he makes eye contact with what he can describe as pure hatred.

“TAKE A WILD FUCKING GUESS!” Kamogawa shouts in response and swings the baton Stain thought he didn’t have in reach. Stain puts up his arms to defend himself but the baton strikes his arm like nothing else. His bones snap in three clean pieces, bending unnaturally.

kinetic energy is half times mass times velocity squared, Kamogawa thinks. If you double the mass, you double the damage, but if you double the speed-

For the first time, Stain cries out in pain. He falls on his back. His arms are useless, completely useless. They can’t even hold themselves up, dangling like a marionette with its strings cut.

-you quadruple the damage.

“I’ll break you in a way that can’t be put back together.” Kamogawa’s voice sounds like the fires of hell.

But Stain fights back, using his legs, somehow. It takes Kamogawa one strike to shatter his right kneecap. That is when he knows he’s lost.

But his body knows the truth.

For the first time since he became Stain, he screams out in fear. He thought his training would give him an edge. He never thought he would be killed in a dark alley by a cop with a baton.

But Kamogawa wasn’t just any cop. His unit was trained to be strong enough to handle villains with quirks. He was trained to be fast.

Strange way fate works.

“HAVE MERCY!” He howls. “PLEASE!”

Kamogawa doesn’t even stop to consider the words.

“No.” He says, his voice still and all kinds of scary.

#3 is a private post that is being worked on.

#4 picks off after a three way fight @gyromitra-esculenta was supposed to work their magic on but I’m sure has forgotten

Angelo coughs and takes in a few sharp breaths. It hurts to breathe.

“Schiesse.” He groans. His sister’s favorite choice words. He tries to prop himself up on his arms, and a pain shoots up his side.

Sore ribs. Jack knew how to kick.

Angelo looks around. Jack’s lying a few feet away.

Something runs down his temple. He wants to say its sweat but its freezing. 

Angelo continues to look

A few feet apart from Jack, the black mass known as Gabriel Reyes lied.

Well, what Angelo knew of him. The rest was just Reaper. That absolutely absurd black costume with that billowing hooded trench coat was so cheesy Angelo couldn’t believe it.

Angela would have laughed.

Angelo rolls and falls on his back.

Angela’s left him. 

She thinks he’s gone insane.

But its all for her. The Valkyrie nanite strand, which he had to get shot in the chest to get. The Ares version II, which Angela had been secretly developing during her deployment, procuring which included getting punched by Winston. In the face. He somehow survived that. Maybe it was Ares softening the blow.

And now this, Gabriel Reyes. The Reaper. The man who was the secret of death. His body laid in front of him, and Angelo was pretty sure that man wasn’t going anywhere. 

Jack Morrison. Francis, Angelo had called him. Once.

He was just an old man living in the past while the world had moved on. He thought he could still make a difference. Truth be told, he actually would, if he had spent his energy in taking down the organization, not the man.

Angelo really regretted knocking him out. No, his fist regretted that the second it collided with his enhanced skull.

The rest of his body regretted why Angelo hadn’t done it sooner. Especially his ribs. Jack loved to strike the body.

It hurt to breathe.

It hurt to think.

To be honest, with his sister leaving him, it kind of hurt to even exist.

But his body was still in one piece, though he doubted if his bones were.

He creaks to his feet, groaning all the way up. His right arm was fractured. Definitely. Even Ares couldn’t save him from an aging-super-soldier-slash-ghost-slash-full-time-terrorist’s strength. It didn’t matter, though. His other arm was fine, if a little sore.

It hurt all around, but he was still breathing.

He hooks his hand under Gabriel’s body and heaves the man in his arm, wavering dangerously, something which shoots branches on branches of pain up his bruised sides. He groans through gritted teeth, wincing and breathing laboriously, which hurt him further.

“Mein GOTT” he grits. He then hobbles to Jack and, well, taps the man with his foot until he starts to stir.

Jack tries to make an attempt to stop Angelo, but he wasn’t having any of it, something that was taken care of with a quick stomp to the face. Blood erupted from Jack’s nose, something which he was quick to attend to.

Oh what a mess he had gotten into.

But, he’ll survive.

Because Coffee, Season Two, Episode 18: A day of giving

A tiny fluffy Healing Arrow fic I wanted to get out of my system for so long.

A little tired.

Of foes in friends

Of money in war

Of war in people

Of hate in existence

A little tired.

Of pain too long

Of relief too short

Of being hated

Of hating self

A little tired.

Of venom in jokes

Of control in advice

Of malice in well wishing

Of allegiances changed with the weather

A little tired.

Maybe a lot more than little

But for today, sleep alone

Keep looking for someone

You can call home

So you are not tired any more

When you go back

The word was final. No further questions would be asked about No questions asked.

My split writer personality tigole decided to have some rarepair smut action to themselves.

Emily to Angela, on the topic of relationships, Because Coffee (an Overwatch Fanfic) Season Two, Episode 21: Slayin’

Zenyatta to Olivia on hugs, Because Coffee (an Overwatch Fanfic), season two, Special episode five: Olivia, part three

Moira: Yes sir. I'll shop when I get off work today.

Fareeha: Yeah, and I'll have the red dress we were looking at that day.

Moira, throwing hands up in surrender: Does anyone else have a bucket list here?

Rest of staff: *converges on her location*

Genji: Master, that was a drop thousands of feet down into a chasm!

Zenyatta: Indeed. Now he shall see the iris for the rest of his life. Enlightenment often comes at a great cost.