#yoshifics

CONGRATULATIONS, @yoshifics / Yoshishisha (AO3)​!!! Your fanfiction “Cold Company” has been nominated by one of your fans for the 2025 1st Term Inuyasha Fandom Awards run by FeudalConnection!

Your work has been nominated in the following category:

Best Canon Universe

Voting will take place between February 6th and February 20th, and the links to do so can be found on the feudalconnection Tumblr page.

If you would like to pull your work from consideration for an award, please let us know via the Tumblr page or [email protected].

Once again, congratulations for your beautiful contributions to this wonderful fandom, and thank you for all that you do!

NOMINATIONS ARE OPEN UNTIL THE END OF THE DAY JANUARY 15th! SUBMIT YOUR FIC/ARTWORK NOMINATIONS THROUGH OUR PAGE!

holy heck am i gay for that combo, damn 

“I have no idea what’s happening, why Tobi didn’t kill me, or why you have Mokuton, but that idiot in the very bad bat costume just punched you in the face after you fished me out of the harbor and I’m going to kick his ass.”

“Watch out, he was trained by ninjas.”

“He wishes he was trained by ninjas.”

“You just turned Batman into a mummy and I have no plans for the evening, want to get a drink and talk about overthrowing the system?”

“Is that a poisonous rose?”

“Yes.”

(63: Everybody knows/mistaken couple, 90: unexpected virgin)

They meet while Bruce is running in the aftermath of Harlem... or rather, Hulk meets them while Bruce is running.

Bruce meets them the next day, waking in a strange home with a pale, white haired and golden-eyed stranger perched on a crude cabinet nearby. The man is whittling something, talented fingers controlling knife and wood with precision despite the man’s gaze flickering over to him every so often.

(“Sleepin’ beauty’s finally awake, eh? Going big’n’green must take it outta ya.”

“You shouldn’t--”

“If yer ‘bout t’call yerself a dangerous monster, save it. We’re all monsters ‘ere, an’ none a’us take kindly t’someone shittin’ on themself.”)

Bruce... doesn’t stick around long. Six people near him is six potential victims that he refuses to endanger.

He reluctantly accepts a meal, accepts a change of clothing and a bag, and escapes before noon. He’s dangerous. Dangerous to everyone and everything thing around, and the moment he loses control is the moment the kind strangers will pay for their kindness.

He can’t have any more of that on his conscious.

He can’t.

They meet again, two months and two Hulk-outs later, and once again it’s Shiro who sits with him until he wakes.

(“Runnin’ from yer problems ain’t ever gotten anyone anywhere cept into more trouble.”

“Then what do you suggest?!”

“Listen. Question. Think. Stop assumin’ yer other half’s nothin’ but rage an’ violence.”

“That’s all he is!”

“Mhm. Y’got proof a’that?”

“Harlem is destroyed and people lost their lives because of it!”

“Y’know what I see when I look at those vids? Protective instincts an’ an effort t’survive. Yer a scientist, ain’t ya supposed t’have a control test b’fore y’pass judgment?”)

It’s Ichigo who draws him aside after breakfast, who sits him down and explains in stilted words his own troubles as a teen. There’s enough blanks in his story that Bruce wonders if he’s fallen in with a group of Enhanced, but... the parallel is startling. The alternate personality, fighting for control, lashing out in defense...

He leaves again, but this time... thoughtful.

Ichigo... understands him. In a way that Bruce never expected to be understood again.

And if he’s right about his guess, and about the strange gap where Shiro should feature and doesn’t--

Well, Bruce suspects there’s more than one way for a near-twin to exist, if he’s factoring the strange world of Enhanced into the picture.

So he retreats to a place where few people live and... tries something. He doesn’t really know what he’s doing, is working off of supposition and vague memories of pop culture references, but he hears... something. It’s more impressions than words, all tangled emotions and jarring images and deep, rumbling almost-words.

So he... tries. He reaches ‘out’ and tries to soothe the poisonous tangle of fear-rage-helplessness that’s whirling about in the spot he’s labeled ‘Hulk’. It’s... hard, especially when his own emotions interfere, but... he thinks he’s getting somewhere at last.

And then the army comes. And Hulk appears.

And Bruce wakes up in a strange bed with Shiro perched nearby, still whittling away.

( “Yer gettin’ somewhere. Keep it up. Hulk spoke ta us in simple sentences this time.”

“I... alright.”)

And so it repeats: he leaves, wanders somewhere new, works on his communication with his alter-ego, has an accident and wakes up in a strange bed with Shiro keeping watch.

(“Why is it always you?”

“What, ya don’t like m’dashin’ good looks?”

“It just seems strange, is all. You’ve said you all take turns, but I always wake up to you.”

“Luck a’the draw, trust me.”)

By the time SHIELD comes to recruit him, Bruce has given up splitting from the others. The understanding and help that Shiro and Ichigo offer him is too tempting, and Orihime is difficult to refuse even when he’s feeling his best. Even the other three, Tatsuki, Chad, and Uryuu, are pleasant to be around and teach him whatever they can if he asks. He’s learned more from Uryuu about meditation and the body’s natural energies than he ever expected to, Chad is always willing to sit down and play guitar to help calm him down, and Tatsuki nudges him into learning self-defense to the point that Hulk stops being constantly afraid.

It’s... nice.

So when SHIELD shows up, they catch him alone. Of course.

Not that they stay that way.

Shiro appears in a heartbeat, draping an arm over Bruce’s shoulder and baring his teeth in a threatening grin. The red-head twitches back, eyes widening just enough for Bruce to know that she didn’t expect Shiro in the slightest, and that display is enough to set him at ease.

All seven of them are welcomed onto the Helicarrier without a hint of protest.

( “Question. Why th’hell’s e’ryone callin’ ya my boytoy?”

“Because you’re protective over me like we’re in a relationship.”

“Wh--no? Sorry, but uh... ain’t interested at all. Aibo an’ I don’t uh... y’know. Have any sorta interest. In anyone.”

“I figured. Nothing you can do about them though, unless you feel like backing off.”

“.... Do ya want me to...?”

“No.”

Eliot threw down a sheet of crumpled paper in front of Hardison, who paused in his typing to stare at the glued magazine-letters like a serial killer ransom note. A smile burst wide on his face. “Aw, you made me a collage? You shouldn’t have!”

“I found it in the spot where my knife should’ve been,” Eliot growled, dropping harshly into a chair.

“That fancy knife with the curlicues on it?” Hardison crinkled his brow and drew a finger in the air. “With the wood handle and the fancy blade that requires daily polishing, that you haven’t let out of your sight since you got it, that knife?”

“My grandmother gave me that knife.” Eliot flashed his teeth. “Someone took it.”

Hardison held up the glue-stiff page, skeptical. “Somebody took your knife and left an arts-and-crafts ransom note. For a knife.” Eliot flung an arm in the air, a silent gesture of frustration and defeat. Hardison smoothed out the page, straightened his posture, and cleared his throat.

“‘Roses are red,Violets are blue,Replace what you stoleOr the shiny stick gets it.Love,Your Unnamed Nemesis’”

Hardison tilted his head with a grin. “Aw, such a sweet poem! I like how the word love has a little heart for the ‘o’–”

“I didn’t steal anything!” Eliot snapped. “Where’s Parker?”

“Did you touch anything?” Hardison asked coyly.

In the silence that followed, Eliot watched Hardison with a long, cool, unblinking stare.

“You know what this is about,” Eliot accused.

“Wha- me?” Hardison’s smile stiffened and he shook his head quickly, waving his palms. “Naw, I would never–”

“Where’s Parker, Hardison?” Eliot was on his feet again, coiled like a tiger, and Hardison stumbled out of his chair.

“Now–” Hardison skittered backward, waving a placating hand. “I’m sure this is all just one big misunderstanding, just make another sandwich to replace the one you ate out of the fridge and–”

“Why would I eat Parker’s day-old chicken parmesan?!”

heaven:

couldn’t listen all the way through | not my thing | it’s okay | kinda catchy | ok i really like this | downloading immediately | already in my library

white flag:

couldn’t listen all the way through | not my thing | it’s okay | kinda catchy | ok i really like this | downloading immediately | already in my library

bones:

couldn’t listen all the way through | not my thing | it’s okay | kinda catchy | ok i really like this | downloading immediately | already in my library

Кукушка:

couldn’t listen all the way through | not my thing | it’s okay | kinda catchy | ok i really like this | downloading immediately | already in my library

if by canon you mean an event that happened in the real world, yes