#fire powers

[notzoeysblog]

i just love a confident man with fire powers

[hunterofthehollow]

THE GIRL OF EMBERS - Chapter 1

Marvel Chapter 1 Chapter 2

PAIRING: Natasha Romanoff x Black fem!Reader

WARNING: Violence, Torture / Abuse(non-graphic), Kidnapping, Scientific / Medical, Imprisonment / Captivity, Weaponization, Trauma Themes, Mild Adult Language, and Mild Spice / Soft Tension.

Summary: Stolen from a hidden Fire Tribe at fourteen, you spent nine years trapped in Hydra’s hands—experimented on, weaponized, renamed, and restrained. But the fire they tried to control never stopped fighting back. Every mission they sent you on became another quiet act of rebellion, another Hydra asset mysteriously reduced to ash.

When the Avengers finally see footage of you—collar sparking, flames trembling, eyes glowing like embers refusing to die—Natasha Romanoff is the first to understand. You’re not Hydra’s weapon. You’re a survivor looking for a way out. And she’s already decided she’s going to be the one to find you.

A girl made of fire, and the spy who sees right through the smoke...

a/n: requests open

word count: 1,078 words

The Redfang Tribe

Long before Hydra ever learned your name, you belonged to a world no outsider had ever touched.

Deep in the mountains of New Zealand, hidden behind volcanic ridges and thick forest, your tribe lived in harmony with the elements. Fire was not a weapon there—it was a birthright. A language. A living thing that curled around your fingers like a curious spirit and warmed your skin like a second heartbeat.

Your people marked their stories in ink and flame. Your mother’s hands guided the needle when you were twelve, tracing the first lines of your coming‑of‑age tattoo along your jaw and collarbone. The ink was dark against your brown skin, swirling in patterns that represented lineage, strength, and the fire that lived inside you.

You grew up running barefoot across black sand, braids whipping behind you as you practiced shaping flame into ribbons, sparks, spheres. Your elders taught you to listen with more than your ears—to feel the world through heat, vibration, breath.

You were powerful. But you were loved first.

And then Hydra came.

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You were fourteen when the world you knew burned for the wrong reasons.

They didn’t storm your village with armies. They didn’t need to. They waited until you were alone, practicing near the cliffs, fire dancing between your palms. A tranquilizer dart hit your shoulder before you even sensed the danger.

You woke in a metal room. Cold. Silent. Wrong.

They tried to study you. Then they tried to control you. Then they tried to break you.

Your tattoos grew as you did—new lines added by Hydra’s scientists to “track progress,” scars layered over them from restraints, experiments, and the shock collar they eventually locked around your throat when they realized you were becoming something they couldn’t contain.

They named you Blazeborn.

You never answered to it.

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Nine years later, you moved like a ghost through Hydra’s hidden bunker south of New York. Heavy tactical gear weighed down your limbs, designed to restrict your range of motion. They feared what you could do if you were allowed to move freely—if your fire could breathe.

You hated the gear. You hated the guns they forced into your hands. You hated the collar most of all.

But you endured.

Because every mission they sent you on, you twisted. Every Hydra asset you were ordered to protect mysteriously burned. Every Hydra agent who tried to control you mysteriously vanished.

You weren’t their weapon. You were their undoing.

And they still hadn’t figured it out.

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Far above you, in a sleek conference room in the heart of New York, Nick Fury pressed play on a video.

The Avengers watched as a figure—you—moved through a snowy forest, flames curling from your palms in controlled bursts. Your braids swung with each step, your dark skin glowing faintly with heat, your tattoos illuminated like molten gold.

Natasha Romanoff leaned forward, eyes narrowing.

“She’s not attacking the convoy,” she murmured. “She’s taking out Hydra.”

Fury nodded. “She’s been doing that for months.”

Another clip played—this time of you dropping to your knees as the shock collar activated. Your body convulsed, flames sputtering out. Natasha’s jaw tightened.

“She’s still under their control,” Steve said quietly.

“Not for long,” Fury replied. “The collar’s malfunctioning. Hydra’s losing their grip.”

The final clip showed you standing alone in the snow, breath steaming, eyes glowing like embers under ash. You looked straight into the camera—straight through it.

Natasha’s breath caught.

There was something in your expression. Not rage. Not fear.

Recognition. Like you were searching for someone.

Fury shut off the screen. “We need to find her before Hydra does.”

Natasha stood slowly, jaw set. “I’ll go.”

Clint raised a brow. “You volunteering for a walking flamethrower?”

Natasha didn’t look away from the blank screen. “She’s not a weapon.”

Fury gave her a long, knowing look. “Romanoff. This isn’t a rescue mission.”

Natasha’s voice was soft but unshakeable. “It is for me.”

a/n: Guys im very proud of this. I used to write all the timeeee on Wattpad, now I get to be on here. I hope ya'll like it. Chapter 2 is coming sooner than you think. <3

[piplupfluffwritingstuff2]

You're Burning Up

"So um... If you really want to make a snippet, then maybe story about a fire hero who got a high fever, and now their powers is getting lose as their usually warm body is being pushed even warmer to the point they are losing control? And maybe an ice Villain/Supervillain/Rival-Hero comes to help them. And Hero has begrudgingly let them?"

Happy birthday, @just-a-space-rabbit ! I hope you enjoy this! I was pretty out of it while writing it but I hope it turned out okay!

Hero tossed and turned on their bed; everything had been kicked off except the fitted sheet, which was now beginning to smolder under Hero’s feverish skin.

They panted out little puffs of steam, their glazed eyes sweeping around the stifling room. They thought about heading into the kitchen to get another wet washcloth, but that had taken all of their energy last time, and the initially-cool water had fizzled out into vapor within seconds.

The scent of burning polyester wrinkled Hero’s nose. They sat up in their stupor to see little flames licking up their sheets and bedframe.

“Aw come on,” Hero croaked.

Hero patted the flames with their bare hands, and while this didn’t harm them at all because of their pyrogenic power, it did make the fire much bigger and hotter.

“Noooooo,” Hero rasped.

Hero tumbled out of bed, landing on the carpeted floor with a thud. The fire extinguisher… Hero had one in every room. Hero crawled over to their closet, their bedroom becoming more uncarpeted by the second.

Just as it looked like their entire room was going to go up in flames, there came a rapping at Hero’s window. They forced their spinning head up to see Other Hero on the other side of the glass. Their fingers had just curled around the latch before an all too familiar wave of nausea hit them. Fortunately, Other Hero opened the window the rest of the way.

A big, beautiful, sparkling beam of ice hit Hero in the chest like an exquisite spray of flame retardant foam. They let the crystals swathe them in their cool embrace. They heard Other Hero’s footsteps overhead, stamping out every flame and spark in their room. Soon, all that was left from the chaos was ice and smoke.

“Hey.” Hero cracked a weak grin despite their chapped lips, “come here often?”

“You could have burned down your entire neighborhood!” Other Hero scolded, “why didn’t you tell someone you were sick!?”

“I was getting better,” Hero argued.

“Sure you were.” Other Hero shook their head.

Other Hero crouched down at their side and went to pick them up. Now that was going too far. Hero scrambled to their feet. The dizzy spell that washed over them almost made them crumple right back down.

“Thanks for the assist, but I’m good now,” Hero said, “you can leave the way you came.”

Other Hero didn’t even glance at the window. They put their hand to Hero’s forehead and cried out. They retracted their hand which came back red with heat.

“Not a chance,” Other Hero said, “you are literally burning up. Put your ego aside for once and let me help you. Or if not me, then at least let me get someone in here who will help you. Do I need to call Superhero?”

“No!” Hero said quickly, “…no.”

Other Hero nodded, seemingly satisfied with that answer for now. They helped Hero back onto the bed.

“Have you eaten or drank anything today?” Other Hero asked.

Hero threw an arm over his eyes, whimpering a little.

“Hero.”

“No, Mom. Sheesh.”

Other Hero rolled their eyes.

“I’m gonna make you some soup,” they said, “but before I do-”

A soothing cold enveloped Hero from below. They lifted their arm to see Other Hero applying a thick layer of frost to what was left of their bedding.

“Knowing you, that’s probably gonna melt in a few minutes, so I’m gonna stick around to keep it going until the fever comes down.”

Other Hero left the room, and Hero settled down into the melted pillows. The soup would be cold, but other than that, their rival would prove themselves to be a pretty good nurse. Neither of them would speak of this in front of anyone. As soon as Hero got better, though, there would be a lot of furniture shopping to do together.

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[faces-of-whump]

For my dear friend @laurenpiplupfluff2. Hope you feel better soon! Hero woke in a dim room, alone and confused. Had she fallen asleep during the team meeting? That couldn't be right. She'd been extra alert during this time, listening with wrapt attention as the team discussed taking down Villain, an evasive arsonist who had somehow managed to evade both the police and Hero's team. So where was her team? This had to be the soap factory where they planned to ambush them. She could smell the blended scents of bath salts and hand soaps. Dangerously flammable, the perfect target for his attacks. As if the place had guessed her thoughts, she saw a shadowed figure burst into flame at the end of the hall. She threw her hands up, blasting ice at the fiery form. At once the frozen blasts crystallized the person before her. Steam filled the air as her ice attacks vaporized on contact with the enflamed skin. The flames disappeared, revealing a pale man, veined with fiery blood. Slumping forward against the wall, he seemed limp with relief. "Oh...thank you." Thin, charred material clung to his waist and thighs, remnants of whatever suit Villain always wore. The rest had burned or melted away, pooling around his feet.

"W--who are you?" Hero asked, backing away until the corner trapped her. "What do you want?" "Shh, don't pretend you don't know me, Hero. They've left you," Villain said, but he sounded...empathetic, "They knew you'd be found."

Her heart lodges in her throat. Her team left her? They wouldn't, they needed her ice powers. But still, as she shrinks from him, she can't help but wonder.

"Why didn't you tie me, then?" Villain smiled, "There's no need to, is there? You're playing the role they want you to play." Hero glanced away. He wasn't wrong, but she didn't think her role would turn out like this. Certainly not with her...alone. "You still don't feel it, Hero?" then a chuckle, "Of course you don't. You're always cold." A flame scampered from his finger, lighting the ground between her feet. Instinctively, Hero pulled back. Then she saw it, the carbon metal chain binding her ankle to the wall. Panic shot up her spine. Who did this? Why? Without thinking, she blasted heavy ice against the chain. But the chain would not break. It was specially crafted not to, even when frozen. "What did you do?" she demanded. "Where did you get that chain?" "I told you, they left you here. They didn't think I'd come here until tonight." "Why didn't they see you, then?" Hero asked, panic making her colder than she already was. "They didn't need to. They felt me," and he glanced around the room, holding a smile, "Pity they'd sedated you too much to wake you up." Hero follows his eyes. Only then does she notice how warped the metal walls are, how bent the doorframes appeared. "You trapped them--" "Oh I tried, but I didn't have time. They gave you up without a fight. Fled through that vent shaft up there." She follows his eyes to see the vent shaft in question, "But don't feel too bad, Hero, they sealed the blast doors on the way out." She met his gaze, almost afraid to ask. "So...we're both trapped in here...?" (part 2 coming soon.)

[arcana-greenleaf]

I hope you don't mind if I put in another request(your writing is truly AMAZING!)!

May I request Garrett finding his mate after a natural disaster, she's injured badly enough she needs to be changed and afterwards she has the ability to control whatever element caused the natural disaster(ex. volcano/wildfire=fire, tornado=air, tsunami/flood=water, earthqake=earth). She'd still be a little hesitant at using her abilities after having experienced first hand what damage they can cause.

Apologies for the wait, and thank you for another incredibly fun request! I’m so happy you liked the other one, and I hope this one lives up to your expectations as well. ❤️ Enjoy!

The pungent scent of smoke clung to the wind. It was thick and suffocating. Embers still smouldered in the wreckage below, casting an eerie red glow against the night. Garrett stood at the edge of the devastation, surveying the ruin with narrowed eyes. The wildfire had raged mercilessly, reducing entire homes to charred skeletons and trees to blackened husks. The air was saturated with death. And yet, beneath that overwhelming scent of destruction, something else called to him. Something alive. A heartbeat—faint and struggling. Garrett answered the call and jumped into motion, weaving through the wreckage with practised ease. He followed the sound, the undeniable pull deep in his chest urging him forward. Then he saw her. She lay trapped beneath a collapsed beam, her body broken, blood soaking into the scorched earth. Her breathing was shallow, each exhale rattling with pain. Burns marred her skin, her clothes torn and singed. But none of that mattered. She was clinging to life, but just barely. He needed to act fast. A vicious snarl built in his throat, the mere thought of losing her sending his instincts into a frenzy. He fell to his knees beside her, hands hovering over her frail form, unsure if moving her would do more harm than good.  Blood pooled around her, the scent thick in the air, but Garrett didn’t waver. He pushed aside his vampiric instincts as if nothing mattered more than her. She was his only focus. Her eyes finally fluttered open, barely focusing, as if she felt his presence. “You’re real,” she whispered, voice rasping like wind through ashes. Garrett swallowed hard. “Yeah, sweetheart. I’m real.” A weak smile ghosted her lips. “Shame… I was hoping… hallucination. Would be less embarrassing.” Even in agony, she found humour. A slow grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Sorry to disappoint.” Her breath hitched, and her body seized with pain. He knew then that there was no saving her. Not as she was. Her injuries were too severe, her human body too fragile. His jaw clenched. “I can help you,” he said, voice low, urgent. “But you have to trust me.” She blinked sluggishly, already fading. “Dying doesn’t… seem very helpful.” He leaned closer, his voice soft, almost coaxing. “You don’t have to die.” Realization flickered in her gaze. A breath of silence stretched between them before she gave the smallest nod. That was all he needed. With a low growl, he sank his teeth into her wrist. 

—

The change burned like the wildfire that nearly killed her. Agony consumed every nerve, fire igniting in her veins. Time lost meaning as minutes, hours and days blurred together in a relentless inferno. Somewhere in the haze, she felt a comforting presence. A steady voice. A hand brushing against hers, grounding her. Then, at last silence. When she opened her eyes, the world was different. It was sharper and brighter. The night sky stretched above her, endless and clear. Every ember, every crackling flame still burning in the wreckage below was unbearably vivid. The scent of smoke, earth and him flooded her senses. Hunger coiled in her stomach, but it wasn’t unbearable. It was controlled. She sat up, faster than she thought possible, and turned to face him. Garrett. His red eyes studied her, cautious but amused and more than anything thankful that she was still alive. At least in a sense. “Welcome back, sweetheart.” She exhaled. Her breath was smooth, effortless. The pain was gone and so was the weakness. She felt… powerful. But something else stirred beneath the surface. A flicker of warmth in her palm. There was a whisper in the air.  She looked down at her hands, flexing her fingers. An uneasy feeling settled in her chest. Something else was different. Then, without warning, a small fire erupted from her fingertips. Panic surged through her as she jerked away, the flames flickering out as quickly as they appeared. Her breath hitched. “What the hell was that?” Garrett’s eyes widened, but his shock quickly shifted into fascination. “Well, that’s new.” She scrambled to her feet. The embers surrounding them pulsed in rhythm, like a steady heartbeat. She could feel it in her very core. The heat, the destruction, the roaring flames, all of it was inside her now. She stumbled backwards. “No. No, this can’t – this isn’t -” Garrett moved swiftly, catching her hands in his. His touch was grounding and solid. "Breathe."  She no longer needed to breathe, but she mimicked the motion anyway before meeting his gaze. “I can’t – this isn’t normal. This isn’t supposed to happen.” His lips quirked. “Sweetheart, nothing about us is normal.” A sharp exhale left her. He wasn’t wrong. She forced herself to focus and try to push down the overwhelming fear rising in her throat. “It’s because of the fire,” she whispered. “The wildfire.” Garrett nodded with a thoughtful expression. “Looks like it gave you a parting gift.” A bitter laugh escaped her. “Some gift.” She clenched her fists, trying to stop the slight tremor in her fingers. “I felt it, Garrett. I felt the fire take everything. And now it’s me.” He was quiet for a moment, then he tilted his head. “Do you think the fire wanted to hurt you?” She blinked. “What?” He took a step closer. “Do you think it had a choice? Or was it just… fire?” She swallowed hard. “Fire isn’t good or bad,” he continued. “It just is. It destroys, yeah, but it also warms. It protects. It gives life just as much as it takes.” He let his fingers brush against hers. “And so will you. If you let yourself.” She looked at him, really looked at him. With her newly heightened senses, it felt as though she was seeing him for the first time. He wasn’t afraid of her. Not even a little. And for the first time, she considered that maybe she didn’t have to be afraid either. She took a deep breath out of habit. The embers no longer pulsed wildly around her. The fire inside her wasn’t raging, it felt as though it had been waiting. Garrett smirked. “Told you to trust me.” She huffed, rolling her eyes. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” “A little.” He grinned. “But mostly, I’m just looking forward to what comes next.” As her confidence grew and her nerves settled, the embers around her slowly faded. She turned her gaze to the horizon, where the first light of dawn stretched across the charred landscape.

Everything was different now – her body, her senses, the fire that lived inside her. She would have to learn, to adapt, to figure out what this new existence meant. What did come next? She wasn’t sure. But with Garrett beside her, she was ready to find out.

[sophicilicious]

thinking about pyros powers rn

its no doubt fire is cool but its interesting that he can only increase the magnitude and intensity of it and its heat, also he's cute in evolution

regardless hes a REALLY easy target for almost everybody with that big cannister of flammable gas on his back, i understand its more powerful than a lighter but good grief. that also begs the question- sinces hes immune to flame is he also immune to explosions? cause i imagine hes not.

anyway, respect for the fellow evil aussie. i was js looking at his powers because i think wrist flame throwers could be a viable weapon for even a human. but the gas cannister would have to be almost indestructible

[smokey-jinn]