#I should have left academia sooner

[xiaq]

Today, I found out my company is sending me to Club. If you’re not in tech, that means that I (and B!) get to go on an all-expenses-paid weeklong trip to a fancy location in recognition for my performance this year. The location—Monaco! We’re thinking that we’ll extend the trip by another week, maybe in Nice. If anyone has suggestions, do let me know.

The imposter syndrome will probably be silent for at least a couple days after this!!

[court-jobi]

Goldeneye Down

((banner by me! I don't own Horikoshi's characters/stories))

Pairing: Hawks x reader (quirkless!(gn)reader)

Words: 4.6K

Rating: T+ (canon-typical post-mission shenanigans, so it gets raw, kids.)

Warnings: canon-typical violence, description of injuries/blood, mentions of medical trauma, anxiety, so many tears, mutual pining, HURT/COMFORT, angst with a happy ending

Summary:

If a kiss would fix him, he'd sooner never breathe again. If you knew it would work, you'd surrender your lungs and anything else for his comfort. He hardly gets tender treatment after a fight- and that shows by how tightly he's hugging your waist for dear life. Alternatively: three times you've witnessed your dashing Hawks masking his hurt, until he can't anymore. Each time is worse than the last- until you finally learn that you're the only one who truly asks how he feels after nights like this. Not 'how are your wings' or 'is he stable'... but it's you who takes the time to wipe his face gently with a washcloth: not to rid Hawks of the sweat and grit to make him presentable, but gifting Keigo the chance to feel clean for once.

A/N: Yall, this man is one of my favorite characters on this show, and I have so many writing plans for him-- so apologies for starting right out the gate with angst??? I love him I swear

For my My Hero Academia Masterlist, check it out here!

Read on AO3

The first time you ever saw Hawks shirtless was hardly the stuff fantasies or a perfume advert concocted. He was bandaged across one entire pec, around his middle, and up to his shoulder, after all.

Work as a writer took you to many glamorous locations, but also to the grittiest– recently, hero hospitals when there’s been a close call and you are in for an interview with either a dying hero for their final public wish, or a heartfelt op-ed about a rising sidekick’s latest stand against threat and evil. In either case, you’d wound up at the bedside of a darling rescue agent who’d had an incredible story to share despite their career-ending injuries. 

With a genuine word of thanks and a shared pudding packet, you were leaving the hospital wing in fairly good spirits until your stomach turned in shock at what awaited you in the hallway– a gravely bandaged Hawks standing at the nurse’s station in a half state of dress, locking eyes with you in the first instance where you’d ever caught him off his guard. 

Those gorgeous eyes flashed in nervous panic which melted into boyish charm awfully quickly- standard practice for the secret object of your affections-

“Well gosh, nurse, I thought you’d give a guy a warning if a guardian angel was going to be visiting today… I’d have been decent enough to put a shirt on~!”

It was a detour of hoarse-voiced flirting on his part and masked heartbreak on yours. Seeing the blonde numbed out and paler than you’d ever witnessed him out on the job, your veil of professionalism slipped enough to really see Hawks in this moment… and catch wind of an unaware attendant who slipped the hero’s last name in front of you. 

Said PA immediately recoiled upon seeing you -an extended member of the press- overhear the #2 Pro Hero’s legal name. Though at your insistence that you were here on business that didn’t concern him, Hawks visibly relaxed enough to give you his first name himself the moment the nurse left. 

‘Mr. Takami is far too formal to come outta you; don’t even think about calling me that, dove.’

Keigo Takami truly was a man containing multitudes, but for all the tough talk about how ‘you should have seen the other guy’, you worried about that man you’ve seen now without his gold visor that night when you went home, and wondered if he was sleeping ok with his chest bound like that. 

The next injury sighting took several months of continued text exchanges, private balcony sidebars, and continued endurance of Hawks’ public displays of blatant sweet talking for you to see him less than chipper again.

Your meeting with the HPSC Press Chair was running painfully long, but necessary given the content you were working on publishing for them as side work. It wasn’t doable for you to take on a full-time job with the Hero Commission, but in your philanthropic effort to unite the civilian world with those of high profile heroes, you took on these winded assignments with the promise of a pay bump… as well as a chance to see your darling flyboy. Not that they’d note or care about your budding affections for him. Thankfully, your tight lipped smiles at him were ironclad and his reputation as a charming star preceded him, even to his higher ups so the true feelings never fully sunk in so long as you were mindful.

Pulling a doubletake at your presence in the conference room from the glass windows led Hawks to hang a left inside to quip at you, fully interrupting your meeting despite the scowls he received from the suits lining the table.

“Well isn’t this a pleasant surprise~ hey there, lovedove. Aren’t you pretty as a peach today?”

“Hey there, yourself,” you turned to acknowledge him politely, but pointedly fixed on his eye that laid nearly completely blackened and the cheek scraped to a raw red.  “--aren’t you looking- purple.”

Hawks being sufficiently threatened to report elsewhere didn’t stop him from throwing you a dismissive wink and a smirk at your subtle worry,

 “Oh this? Nah, it’ll fade. I could use the blush anyway~ it’ll save me a trip for photos tomorrow!”

That charming show of optimism wasn’t a surprise as you turned back to your grumpily apologetic managers, though you never did quite forget how Keigo stayed in the entryway soaking in even your curt ending of the conversation. He had to be practically ushered out by some fellow training officers for him to go on his merry way. Your inspection of him had been lightning quick, and you were nearly certain he was black and blue in more places than his face judging by how he sidestepped out the door.

Would he ever take his pain seriously? Under all that swagger, you certainly hoped so. Or else you hoped someone would make a fuss over him. 

Hawks shows on your patio at 12:30 in the morning one day, knocking silly on your side door. It’s been weeks since you wrote another touching piece for the HPCS’s statement on civic protection, and too long since he’s taken a rooftop stroll with you. Hell, far too long that he's had you close. Keeping you at his side, tucked under his towering wing, shielding you from the night winds, peppering each other with soft-spoken words and some stolen kisses he swears mean more to him than a move ‘just for luck’. 

Hawks knocks three times... huffing. He glanced towards the ground, tucking what's left of his wings further in with a wince. He knocks four more times, each more insistent than the last, but mindful of the noise. He even shushes himself in the delirium, canvassing your living room for signs of life.

Your oven light was still on, suggesting you hadn't gone through your full nighttime shutdown yet. That single light bulb in your kitchen appeared to double the more he stared, and tried to blink the unease away. Shit. He's really in no condition to fly. The sidewalk below your floor takes his attention again at the cry he hears. The sound is only cat this time, but still makes him oh-so nervous.

Hawks moans his impatience coupled by the searing pain, begging you to come notice him at the sliding glass. He drops his head damp with sweat to the window (intent to apologize for it later) and just bangs on the window like the desperate man he is.

"Please be up, please be up, please..."

When he opens his eyes briefly, he sees a shadow before him approaching. You'd flicked on more light in your living room and were jogging up to the window with shock brightening your features to total wakefulness. He's never been happier to see you so panicked.

Your confusion is palpable behind the door as you push the blind’s interior locking rod aside and flip up the lock, sliding it-- and Hawks-- along with you.

"Who-ooah!! Hawks??" You whisper-scream.

Stumbling aside, he grips his still bleeding hip and winces at what that move causes for his back. Eyes screwed shut, he can't even quite manage a suave, sweet greeting; he merely sighs your name as an answer to prayer.

You take in this poor, disheveled shell of a hero as he looks every bit like he's come from a dogfight. Not only were his wings sparse and bony from overuse, but his left wing was seizing up and stunted at a poor angle you knew wasn't natural.

oh my God, those poor wings… You collected him up with ready arms- gingerly guiding inside through the center of the patio, wary of bumping either's span of the door. 

"carefulcarefulcareful–"

"eh, it’ll-- nnngh!!" Hawks doubled over-thankfully right into you- "I got'kicked in the back-- right under...ahhhh~ "

Not only that, but despite the blackness of his under armour and gloves, you noted now by movement and smell that he was bleeding elsewhere. Besides the hobble, he sports a busted cheekbone and lip– which he likely bit himself.

This was a hard state to see him in and truly frightened you by the blood loss alone. Worse than any other time you’d seen him after a mission by far.

Primal, parental  instincts filled you and spilled out before you could stop yourself.

"Honey, we gotta get you to Dagoba General; it's closest--"

"I can't-" Hawks stopped you with a vice grip on your wrist while he hobbled along, "s'too public."

-Not allowed, even in an emergency. This you remembered from his earlier run through of policies about heroes needing medical attention; where in the city he could go, how it should be handled privately, and out of civilian's eyes.

"oh shit-- well, how bout the hero hospital, the one by that high school? Can't you call- or I can call! Let me-"

"No~" hawks moaned miserably. "I jus' gotta sit."

“Aren’t you -uh- supposed to have your legs up? You can lay back, it’s ok,” you try to guide him, but he only wavers- set on sitting up. His still-sure sights canvassing the room tells you he’s in a protective, alert headspace here in new surroundings. He might need more direction from you to break this..

"Hawks-- this is beyond what I can do,” You tried to reason with him, grappling a random throw blanket semi draped on the couch before he could sit down. “I told you I worked in refugee centers, I only know basic first aid- but this is more than I can help you, honey! They can get you fluids, a transfusion if you need it, pain meds stronger than what I have from the corner store if you’d just- where's your phone, I can call for an ambulan-"

Hawks fired up right away-

"NO!!" He begged, "no- they, they can't.. I don't wan'.."

Helping him sit, you knelt carefully trying to hear through his clear pain-rattled rant.

You assume he doesn't want the trouble of an ambulance or worry it wouldn't get here in time- which scares you more is debatable.

"We’re working against time here, hot stuff.." you tried for levity, caressing his hand. While he took it shakily, he bit his groan back.

He looked at you seriously, but pouted back in a way you'd normally giggle at, "No 'wee-woos'."

"I know you don't want ‘wee-woos’, but I think we're past that now." 

You cup Hawks’ cheek which successfully transfixes his attention right on your face, while you blindly try his jacket's inner pocket for his phone- closer than yours that’s clear in the back bedroom on your charger, 

"Look, I'll even talk for ya, okay? You don’t have to explain a thing about what happened tonight. Let's just get you help-"

"NO!! I can't hav' 'em find you here!"

His outburst startled you so you pulled back from his jacket entirely- at a true loss, "Can’t have who find me?"

"I won' let 'em," Hawks shook his head, pressing into his side, "I-- they don' know I'm here- they can' see only the pinpoint. Not ell'vation. Ahh. Don't wan'em know.. where you live, f’they don’ already."

You fought to keep up. He's clearly distressed- but you're surprised it's by the thought over your residence being found out. Who would be upset at the fact of him being here enough to have him shaken from even emergency services finding out?

Then you realize, he’s on the clock. He’s gotten hurt at work, and he’s not patrolling anymore. ‘The asset is damaged,’ and he’s laying low effectively out of sight.

"Your.. what, your bosses? Is that what you're worried about right now?"

Hawks was fighting for some deeper breaths. Some old instincts finally kicking in, he’s pushing air out forcefully though his lips in a decent try to slow himself down. He knows you know that much– how his work is essentially divvied into two piles: the stuff you hear about on the news, and the stuff you don't. The HPSC handles both, but primarily involves him in one. Thankfully, he knows you're quick enough to know tonight is a night of the latter and one that you know you shouldn't ask too much more of, despite your clear desire for understanding. 

But he’s bleeding on your sofa and he is about to damn near break or bleed out and you feel drawn to his heart and feel a selfish urge to know.

"I don't understand- why, ... why come here if you were worried, Kei?"

"I was.. close,” he offered with some huffs again.

That answer felt too loaded, but you were too groggy yourself to reason with such a clammy man dealing with who knows how much blood loss.

He forced as much clarity to his vision as he could, while watching you get up to close the patio door up. You shut the blinds for good measure too before debating whether to run back to the bathroom and  grab what gauze and antiseptics you had. For both the sake of time and to keep the poor man from following you throughout the apartment like you knew he’d try to do, you settled on wetting a few washcloths by the sink and came back to him.

"Your fight was close to here?" You kept him in the moment while attempting to get off his coat. He sat forward to help in this, but his eyes shut hard as it forced his shoulder blades together, to feed the gap over the wings.

Through steeled grunts he manages it, then strangles out the basics for you, "Y-yeah.. small.. weap'n traffic ring. But we had intel they'd.. Had a hit out on’the magistrate."

You set the bloodied jacket to the ground- torn between looking at his pained face and getting a look at the hip he was leaning into.

"They hadda few tough quirk users," Hawks gritted, separating his hand at your insistence. The shirt peeling back sticky was the least of his worries when you laid the wet washcloth at his side, "one had blades for legs, n’the other had a kind of whip-AHH!!"

Only water, but it burned like hell. Burned through the mess he'd made of himself. Proof he'd been sent in there outmatched-- 5 to 1 so he says, but even for the #2 Hero, the odds were stacked against him for a covert attack. You whispered a gentle apology over the sting.

You hated hearing the challenge and clear surprise of the incident that caused this version of your hero to be brought to the surface, knocking on your door like a kid trying to sneak back into the house in the middle of the night.

"So they nicked you here– and your back?" You asked gently, "Anywhere else?"

"They were gonna take out the block--"

You heard the panic rise in him again, the tremor in voice and wings.

"Haw-.. Keigo."

"They were gonna-- they didn't even know you lived up here.. you of all people.. but they were gonna do it. I had- said I hadta stop em, whatever it took.."

You set the first soiled cloth aside, centered between his spread knees, and cupped his face in both hands now. He's trembling all over and pulse is going wild under your fingers. He locked onto your necklace- avoiding your eyes in anger, guilt, and a messy, gnarled ball of exhaustion while you cleaned his face.

It wasn’t clinically necessary, but you wanted to.

 "But you stopped them," you reminded, "You said you got 'em, right?"

Something flitted across his face that looked hollow- like a younger side of Keigo Takami was looking for help finishing his thoughts. Like he was reverting to a shadow self that was about to cry just feeling you cool down his neck with the clean side of a washcloth.

"I got em." He barely whispered, new frustrated tears flooding his eyes and forcing his brows together. "I did it. I did-- what they wanted me to."

The way he says it is not a victory. It's guilty, not even proud in a sense of justice. It was forced; not unlike a militant following orders.

"The safety commission, keeping folks safe at all costs," you answered for him, forcing his eyes to blink at the name. What crimson feather remained ebbed and rustled on impulse.

Suddenly, he frowned down at his own hands, suddenly wrenching himself free of his damp, tainted gloves, like they were burning him alive the longer they stayed on his fingers. 

"Cost them," Hawks croaked, "Wanted t’take ‘em in, make them pay the way we always do. But then they said they're taking the block out- and I couldn't let em- I couldn't let them get you or anyone else--I shoulda felt like a damn hero they say I am."

Hawks shook his head pathetically, nearly collapsing forward at the feel of you raking his bangs back, before he sobbed,

"but I didn't want to. They begged. Couldn’a run when they knew they couldn't win, so they begged. I don't wanna do it this way, don't want it to come to this. I can't keep ending it all just because I can!! I’m no–"

Hawks wipes harshly at his eyes with the heel of his palm, his anger at a tipping point.

Your heart sobers and breaks altogether. He's confessing to you because he knows this whole ordeal is going to be painted so differently by the media in the morning. Heroes have to make impossible calls- and you know his handlers don't make it easier on him when it comes to completing these covert assignments. They’ve essentially given him a license none others do- allowances that dance in the world of grey.

Hawks and heroes like him have been granted permission to take lethal measures. But it’s a grim, fell thought that when you’re in the moment- the choice to kill or stay in your armed hands. The pressure is bound to weigh anyone, make them crack and doubt their sensibilities.

Any bystander would call Hawks heroic for saving more lives than taking them- but fear is what forces him to kill. Fear of loss, of the catastrophic unknown that he continues to fight for faster and faster. 

You leveled with Hawks’ sightline, forcing terrified eyes to yours. While the sight of this confident man worn down grieved you, schooling your face and brows to be strong was an easy ask when he needed you.

"I know you didn't,” you affirmed all he said, “You were so brave, Keigo. You were really brave, no matter what. No matter how these fights end. You always are brave."

Keigo listens and heaves an ungodly sound at your words. 

Suddenly, he's pulling you close and crying into your chest and you meet him all the way. You lock your grasp around his shoulders gingerly at first afraid to hold too tight. Cradling his head to you and hushing him seems to work for now, since he’s able to speak again after more schooled breaths. 

But this reaction from him is far from assured; he’s afraid. Unheard. And it seems with you, he can finally air these harsh truths without outside ears listening in stopping his tongue.

"They don't care how hard it is. They don't care. They just push and push and push me, and 'm tired and it hurts!!"

All you can do is hold him.

"I know, baby,” you barely speak, “I know it does, I know it hurts..."

“It always hurts,” he sobs, “It does every time. When you saw me and you looked at me, and you asked me if it hurt, I lied because I had to. But shit, this hurts…”

Hawks’ heated hands grasp at you: the contour of your body is the altar he's kneeling at- from this very spot of your couch. He's wailing now- half in pain, half in misery of being failed over and over again and only now -in secret- ever receiving someone to listen in return. The sound barely makes noise as its buried in your middle, but it rocks you where you kneel up straight to keep him close.

You let him grieve and hold space for every bit of it. He's never once been this vulnerable with another soul in his life, you’re convinced, and he sounds just so grateful to have your hands on his. Grounding. Giving him relief he's been starving for since you first paid attention to him across that crime scene where you first met.

Once he began mimicking your pronounced breathing he finally starts to feel more calm. 

To give him air, you robbed one hand from around him in order to push back some hair from his face and check his temperature. He could actually feel how cool your hands were once he started getting color into his face from his spot at your chest. Drained and pliant, he mumbles something at your sternum, and you ask him to repeat it gently,

“Hands’re cold,” he whispers.

“Oh, m’sorry.”

“No,” he shuts his eyes. "Feels good. You feel so good. The other docs, they're just so-- clinical.. They don't- they aren't gentle. No one feels as good as you do.”

Softness seeps from the very pit of you. What you won’t give to protect this hero now. 

You see a slumped pillow at his side and think to use it as a bolster until his back spasms lessen.

"Here, babe. Let's get one of these behind you. You can lay back a bit-"

Hawks chips his chin up to you, a bat of his eyes pleading, ‘don’t go’.

It’s official: you love him.

"I won't go,” you coo down to him, “I won't make you get up. I'll be here. Right here." 

You kiss that hot, flushed forehead, and he wants to crumble again by the way you hear him swallow. 

“I-” Hawks tries to recover from his overwhelm, "...I need you..."

Your answer would never deny him, "What do you need, pretty bird."

"Need you– hold on t'me." Hawks nuzzles your neck in relief.

"I've got you. I've got you this time. You always have everyone else; now I have you."

This is the way you’d keep him, if he were all yours. After a day of things he’d rather forget, you’d replace them all with kind words and soothing touches that settle his restlessness. To his nature that never stops moving, you’d make it your mission to bring some stillness and comfort to the forefront of his burdened mind.

While you’d love for reality to keep on pause, a flash of movement at the window gave you hope rather than alarm, 

“Hey, Kei. Lookie there. You've got a little pile waiting for you~” you nod back to the patio, catching some blips of red near the unobscured vertical blinds. “Would having them back on you help? Make you feel more steady?"

Interest piqued, Hawks sounds pleasantly surprised seeing them with his own eyes. 

"Ah. Yeah."

"Wanna rinse off, too? You can; use my shower, get yourself a lil more fresh?” the offer is true and comes from you easily. Happy to offer whatever healing measures possible to him while you wipe away leftover tears from a set of perfectly golden eyes. “I can’t promise I have something that fits you super well, but let’s see what I got.”

You knew the hot water would likely sting his wound, but would also buy him more time before he's  ready to fly again and go get checked out more formally.

Still wilty, Hawks gives a comical grimace in the face.  “I’d sure hate t’bleed all over your stuff.”

“Stuff can be washed; there’s only one you.”

And at this, he finally looks back up to you like the Keigo you know and sinks at the idea, giving in to the tempting idea. He nods. Any trace of boiled over bitterness in his aura has faded to a low simmer, and has left a warm, comfortable, gorgeous-looking man to peer up at you. 

You help him up, open the door once more, and Hawks is able to stand a bit better on his own now with a wingspan full of settling feathers preening themselves into place. Once face to face, he finds his hands are still seeking out your waist, and his face furrows– unwilling to let go fully of his personal painkiller.

You still his hesitation with a mouth’s warm press to his cheek followed by a gentle kiss on the lips. His palms go lax and a moan leaves him softly.

“I'll hold you all you want when you get out,” you whisper gently to him. “No funny business, I promise. Yeah?"

As if he held any true worries. 

"Wouldn’t ever mind if you did, dove. But yeah– I’d like that."

With another lingering kiss, you do your utmost to take things as quickly as he can manage for the sake of getting him to rest quickly… but by the way Hawks eyes you from all your puttering about the apartment, he holds no urgency or rush. To the contrary, he's happy going slow and steady while he’s with you. 

His hand catches yours any chance he gets until he’s ultimately able to lay his head to rest on you at the first idle moment of the evening. Its in these, the wee morning hours, that he’s eager now to remember this as the first night you got to help him heal and not just recover.

"You sure you aren't rushing it?" the slight worry tinges your sleepy morning voice in just the next few waking hours. All you both had was a glorified nap given his late arrival.

The song of your concern obviously pleases your loving company, as the edges of Hawks’ eyes crinkle at your worry. 

"I gotta report in by six. I'll stop at my place, change before I go in, heat up something to eat. And I’ll text you when I get there."

The checklist of answers is sweet and characteristically Hawks, but you hope Keigo hasn’t checked out of your bubble yet.

"Okay. But.. take some time if you can. Come see me if you still need me."

A noticeable fondness settles across Hawks’ devilishly handsome smile, and comes over to cup your face for another coffee-masked kiss. 

"I always need you.” Thank you. For everything. "I'll see you soon." I love you.

"See you soon." I love you too.

Weeks pass with Hawks’ semi-regular visits to the apartment, holding you in the kitchen like the lovesick boy he is at heart. ‘Talking work’ he claims, when his higher ups ask him about the delays, but he’s more inclined to slack and slip into far more personal matters as he guides you over back towards the barstools and sits back on one.

A curious mind makes you question why he's pushing the limits of his absence until he pulls you in to completely become flush with him and realize he wants your attention before anyone else’s. He sinks in how you set your hands on his shoulders, smiling like a sweet dope, looking up at you while you check him over.

You know he’s tired from a day on patrol in full sun, but the faint sunburn across his cheeks doesn’t seem altogether too painful. Just needs a decent aloe blend. Still, you ask as you always do, 

“How you feelin’, pretty bird?”

And he truly answers honestly now, no bravado for handlers to scoff at or bystanders to placate:

“Better now.”

[themanfromeire]

Wolfstar's!Child - Mama Raised a Little Bitch

Parents!Sirius Black & Remus Lupin x Teenager!Reader (ft. Jegulily)

Reader's gender and Hogwarts house is unspecified

This is my first work of the series - if you have any suggestions or requests, let me know!

~~~

Fucked was not a strong enough word to describe how totally and utterly screwed you were now.

When you had first gotten your Hogwarts letter, your uncle Regulus had fallen to his knees (metaphorically) to beg you not to be like James, or your papa Sirius. Remus had joined in too, with both of them citing that ‘Sirius and James were bad enough’ as their justification.

With a promise you had intended to adhere to, you departed to Hogwarts. 

In your defence, you believed you would never even come close to breaking it - you had been going strong for four years now, dedicating yourself to academia instead of continuing the Marauders’ legacy, much to the horror of your godfather and papa.

They had made a big deal about ‘disowning you’, opting to name Fred and George Weasley as their heirs, who were more than happy to accept. You believed it to be a joke. For the most part.

However, now there was a blot on your record - a spill of crimson Chardonnet on a white bedsheet if you will.

A blot that came in the form of Hera O’Donnell.

With her snide remarks and condescending attitude, she strutted around Hogwarts like she were the headmaster herself - as a lioness scoured a savanna for a deer to sink its fangs in to, she paroused her peers, searching for the easiest one to prey upon.

You were her chosen doe. 

In her skewed vision, you wore shoes too big for you to fill - the weight of the Lupin-Black left you crushed by expectations and drowning in inadequacy, waves of failure washing over your head and coating the inside of your lungs with a thick layer of incompetence.

But your head remained firmly above water.

Despite her taunts and jibes being fruitless at first, Hera had hunted you down and separated you from your pack, and now, her teeth finally began to pierce your skin.

 Logically, you should have informed someone. You were not alone - your dad and papa were forever on your side, along with your godfather James, godmother Lily, Uncle Regulus and all of your aunts and uncles, composed of your parents’ Hogwarts friends.

But Hera awoke a different part of you. Something more spiteful. Something more primal.

Reporting it would not be as satisfying. As gratifying. But revenge would be.

If anyone asked you about what had happened to Hera O’Donnell, you would simply claim something along the lines of how ‘her appearance had improved with the addition of a skunk tail.’ It amused your peers, undeniably, but the staff not so much.

Even as your head of house sat you down and informed you of the consequences of transfiguring someone like that and the numerous procedures that Hera was undergoing at St. Mongo’s, having been transferred there for more specialist care, you could not find it in yourself to care. 

However, you absolutely did find it in yourself to care when a crimson envelope fell into your bowl of cereal the next morning. 

You had expected your parents to be informed of the incident, naturally. But a howler? That you had not. Staring at the envelope, Hera’s words swarmed your mind. What if your parents now saw you just as Hera had?

With a quiet sigh escaping your lips, and sympathetic glances from your friends, you opened the envelope, hoping to get it over sooner rather than later. The voice of Sirius Black erupted from the envelope, filling the entire Great Hall.

‘MON AMOUR I AM SO PROUD OF YOU! TRANSFIGURING SOMEO- Oi, Rem, get off! I’m jus-’

‘I TOLD YOU OUR KID WOULD BE A FUCKIN’ GOD AT TRANSFIGURATION!’ Came a proud voice of Remus Lupin, cutting your papa off. ‘LOOKS LIKE YOUR PAPA AND GODFATHER NEED TO REINSTATE YOU AS HEIR AFTER ALL, SWEETHEART!’

As Remus declared that, two very loud and audible sighs of disappointment left the lips of Fred and George. The howler continued, and the sound of a door being slammed open was heard before the voice of James Potter joined in the chorus.

‘WERE NONE OF YOU GOING TO TELL ME THAT THEY TRANSFIGURED SOMEONE?!’ James cried out incredulously and overdramatically, however, he quickly forgot his dramatics in favour of the Marauders’ legacy.

‘NOW ALL YOU NEED TO DO, PRIY, IS TO BECOME ANIMAG-’ the sound of skin hitting skin rung out as Lily slapped a hand over James’ mouth to stop him from accidentally revealing that they were illegal animagi, despite the fact that they legally could register, but they all couldn’t be bothered. James and your papa said it was funnier this way.

‘Darling, as impressive as it is, please don’t transfigure anyone else,’ Lily chastised you gently. She had to at least give off the illusion that they were disciplining you, but you could hear the pride underlining her words and the smirk on her lips.

‘Now, I think it’s best we end this now, hm?’ came the still sophisticated voice of your uncle Reg. ‘Unless we want the entire Hogwarts populous to know James’ social security number.’ There was a chuckle from both the howler and the Hogwarts students at that remark.

‘I want you to know that I am proud of you. The family needed something a little more…Slytherin.’ Regulus remarked before the Howler burst into flames and tore itself up.

Silence filled the Great Hall as everyone took a moment to stare at you and process what had just happened. You looked up and your eyes caught Harry’s.

‘Good job,’ he mouthed at you, giving you a bright smile and a thumbs up from the Gryffindor table, beside a very peeved Fred and George.

Maybe you weren’t so alone or fucked after all.

[aheckinmess]

Below Ground Zero [Deku] (Angst)

(One-shot 3/? in a collection of My Hero Academia one-shots posted regularly on Saturdays.)

Read on AO3.

Tags: Deku x OC, Izuku Midoriya, Deku, UA High School, Rescue Training Gone Wrong, MHA one-shots, fanfiction, My Hero Academia, Deku is a Bean, Angst

Word Count: 1,425 words

Summary: During a training exercise at UA, Tigress rushes to save her friends and finds herself trapped under a building. As time passes and she cries for help, will it prove to be Class 1-A's greatest rescue or a detrimental failure?

Author's Note: This one-shot isn't a part of a series, so if you're ever looking to see what character I'm writing for, I'll give a character name and whether it's angst, fluff, or smut in the title. Enjoy!

Ichijiku (Tigress)

"We need to get inside and make sure we find the survivor. That's our priority!" Ashido clenches her fist with determination. "Now, let's hurry! Time is of the essence!"

"Right!" Everyone follows her lead, even though I'm wary and feel a chill down the back of my neck. Didn't Mr. Aizawa say the building was burnt? I wonder if we should check it out to make sure it's stable... But since everyone seems confident, I hold my tongue.

We're already on the ground floor of the building by the time I realize I should have spoken up. I feel a light rumble beneath my feet and dart after my friends, trying to warn them like I should have done to begin with. "Wait, guys! If the building was burnt, it may still be unstable–" No sooner have I said it that the ground gives way beneath me and Toru. I shove her ahead to keep her from falling down with me.

"Tigress!" Their voices follow me as darkness swallows me.

Something cracks against the back of my head and my vision blurs. Sharp pain stabs through my calf as I hit the ground so hard I dry heave in the dirt. For the next few moments - is it five minutes or fifty? - I fight with consciousness. My body from the belly down feels completely immobile, pinned from the rubble.

When my brain finally refocuses, I find enough energy in me to call out instinctively for my boyfriend. "DEKU!"

My default emotion results in tears steaking down my cheeks as I try to analyze my situation. What would Mr. Aizawa do? He's always so logical. See how freely you can move, Little Cub. I grip at the dirt with the claws in my suit, trying to forcefully pull myself out.

A shriek tears through my lungs as my leg throbs from the movement. Dammit...I can't move my legs. Shit. I'm stuck here. I can't free myself. Sometimes, you have to wait for others to help you.  That's only fitting for something as worthless as you. A pathetic failure. Failure and guilt crash around in my head, threatening to break my body more than the building on my back. Mr. Aizawa is going to be so disappointed. I haven't even managed to get through the first quarter of the exercise. And then Dad... A sob rushes out of me as I try to think of something...anything I can do. I can't let him down.

So much for being a hero, huh? You were in the building for all of thirty seconds before it fell on you. Mr. Aizawa is going to expel you when you get out of here...if your own stupidity doesn't kill you first. No wonder your father gave Deku his quirk and not you. My fingers dig into the dirt painfully again, trying to distract from the emotional pain of my doubt, and the physical pain in my legs. There has to be something I can do. Call for help. No one is going to be mad at you. You saved Toru from the same fate.

"DEKU! FROPPY! URAVITY!" I choke out, using the amplifier in my suit to my advantage. "PINKY! INVISIBLE GIRL!" I shove the butt of my palm into my eyes to try and stop the flow of tears. Worthless. Failure. The sound of my doubt is abruptly cut off by the vivid sound of a tiger roaring in my mind.

I keep screaming and calling for help until my voice is tired and I feel my energy waning. What if they've forgotten me? What if they just left me here? I start to worry, calling out every one of my classmate's names at least once.

I'm starting to wonder if I'll die when the sound of footsteps reaches my ears. My breathing is shaky as I look up, and I'm sure my face is a sight, marred by panic, guilt, and blood.

Deku's face isn't smug or disappointed or annoyed like I'd convinced myself it would be. It pulls more tears from my eyes to match his glistening ones as he slides to his knees in front of me.

"TIGRESS!" He exclaims as he assesses the damage. He takes my hand. "The damage looked pretty bad here. Pinky and Invisible Girl said this was the area you'd fallen down. I was hoping this wouldn't be where I found you but–" He looks up at the debris shifting minutely above me, and his eyes widen, but his brows furrow as he takes a determined stance. "I'm going to get you out of here, honeydoodle. I promise. You're going to be okay!" He gives me a smile, and it both mends and breaks me.

He knows how to keep smiling. Why don't you?

"I'm sorry." I choke out. "I'm not...I wasn't...good enough..." I exhale, gritting my teeth. "I'm a monster."

"No, you're not. Don't say that. Invisible Girl said you saved her. I'm proud of you." Deku pats the top of my hair before he calls down the hall of the dilapidated building. "GUYS! SHE'S DOWN HERE!"

More footsteps start approaching. Iida and Tsu are the first ones that come into view, followed by Todoroki, Ojiro, and Ochaco.

I watch them jog closer until there's more movement from the debris above me and I shriek as my vision goes dark again.

"WATCH OUT!" I hear Deku cry and then everything is silent.

Now everything is pinned. There's no way I'm moving.

"DEKU!" I cry through the dusty darkness, coughing out the dirt trying to invade my lungs. "Is everyone okay?!" Please don't tell me others got hurt on my account.

"Tigress! Thank god you're still alive...we're all okay! Todoroki's ice kept the building from falling further. Can you move at all?" He calls.

"No, I can't move anything now, it has me pinned!" And indeed, even as I say this I try. I can't even turn my head; fallen debris renders it stationary.

I close my eyes and try to focus solely on their voices despite a throbbing headache. I listen as they come up with a plan. Iida is to be ready to run and grab me just in case. Ojiro and Ochaco are going to help move debris while Todoroki uses his ice to stabilize it.

The building crushing down on me has me fighting consciousness. One moment, I hear them talking. The next, I can hear the dirt above me starting to shift and settle. The next time I'm awake, I'm already on a stretcher made by Momo.

"S'Invisible Girl okay...?" I grunt out. It doesn't occur to me until I focus on a pounding in the back of my head that my deteriorating status is due to blood loss.

"I'm okay, Tigress." She promises, squeezing my hand.

I blink and then I'm pulled into a warm embrace. I think it's Deku at first, or my dad. But when he speaks, my chest aches as I find it's someone who's hug means that much more.

"You're going to be okay." Mr. Aizawa tells me, squeezing me. I sniffle and let my head rest on his shoulder for a minute. He reads my mind because as he pulls back and catches my expression he meets it with a stern look. "Don't you dare start apologizing. Just let them take you to Recovery Girl."

I'm too tired to fight it, but I have enough energy to huff at him.

The next in line, not surprisingly, is my dad.

"Ichijiku!" He darts over to my side; even he's not wearing his signature hero smile at first, but he grits his teeth and forces it there in the next moment. "You're okay." He exhales his relief. "Recovery Girl's going to fix you up, okay? I'll be right by your side the whole time."

I reach my hand weakly to pat his, again wanting to apologize but not having the energy. The world starts shifting in focus again.

"Can I go with her, Mr. Aizawa?" I hear Deku's voice in the distance and start glancing around for him.

Soon enough, he's jogging by my stretcher. "Ichan, it's okay. I'll come check on you in a little bit, but I have to finish the training...I'll be with you as soon as I can, okay?" Deku's hero smile is gone and fresh tears paddle down his face. He grips my hand tightly and squeezes before giving it a kiss. "We love you."

I love you too. I think, finally feeling content enough to fall asleep.

Want More Deku? Try: Rhythm & Blues

Credit to @cafekitsune for the divider!

[z-iridest]

I Am Phoenix- A My Hero Academia Fanfic

Chapter 15- What's In A Name:

The first place prize for the Sports Festival was an invitation to I-Expo, but since Melissa and I were already planning to bring Dad to I- Island, it didn't make sense for me to have an extra ticket. Since Dad was mentoring Midoriya, I figured Dad would bring him along as a guest, which left one person I could think of that had earned the right to go...

"Bakugo, wait up!" I jogged to catch up with the blond after school the same day the Sports Festival ended. He stopped, turning around.

"What'd you want?" He asked, sounding as grumpy as he looked. I gave him the ticket, and he instantly looked confused while looking it over. "The hell's this?"

"First place prize for the Sports Festival. Since I'm already going, it's a thank you for going all out. I might have won, but you earned it." I looked away from him, feeling my face burning. "You can bring whoever you want with you as a guest, so maybe Kirishima or Kaminari'll want to go with." I shrugged a bit. My phone went off. "Gotta go, see you round." I gave a small goodbye before taking off, and I could have sworn I heard a small but gruff:

"Thank you." 

I stopped training for a minute, panting as I remembered giving the invite to Bakugo a couple days ago since I was already going to I-Expo through Melissa. I-Expo was pretty much a summer tradition between Melissa, Uncle Dave and I. That is, when Melissa wasn't busy with schoolwork like she was last year... And this time, Dad was going too, which meant that Uncle Dave and Dad could see each other again after... Oh geeze, how long has it been?

I took a drink of water, sitting down for a second. I probably could have given the ticket to one of the girls, but Bakugo had given me a real fight, he didn't hold back. It was something I could respect... I went back inside to shower after the training session. I know what you're thinking: Didn't Mr Aizawa tell you guys to take the next couple days to rest? Yes, but I can't sit still when I'm at home, gimme a break! Before I could jump in though, my phone rang. I looked at the caller ID. An unknown number? What the hell? Probably not the smartest thing, but I answered it. "Hello?"

"Yagi, it's Todoroki." How the hell did he even... You know what, I don't wanna know. 

"Oh, hey, Todoroki. How are you?" I asked, sitting at the island in the kitchen.

"I'm all right.... How are you?" He questioned. I couldn't help but smile.

"I'm good. So, what's up?"

"I just... Needed to tell someone this." I waited for him to continue. "I saw my Mom today. My old man threw her in a mental hospital when I was a kid, I haven't seen her in a long time."

"You did? How'd it go?" I asked, leaning on my arm a bit.

"We both cried... But, it felt good to talk to her again." I smiled softly at this.

"I bet... How're you feeling?" I asked.

"Determined... I... want to be the best hero I can... I want to save her from that place." While I didn't know the full story of what had happened, I was glad he had gotten to see his Mom at least to start repairing his relationship with her. We continued to talk for a while, and by the time we hung up, I felt my heart ache. I missed my Mom, more than anything, but I was happy for Todoroki. He was able to see his Mom again... I saved Todoroki's contact info for later before I got a text from Midoriya.

'Hey! Sorry, Hino, I probably should have told you sooner, but I gave Todoroki your number, he said he wanted to talk to you about something...' Oh, that's how he got my number... Makes sense. 'Listen, if you're not doing anything, do you wanna have dinner with me and my Mom? She's been dying to meet you.' Dinner with Mrs. Midoriya? While the thought made me nervous, I was curious to find out what Midoriya's mom was like.

'Sure! I just finished up training, so I'll get cleaned up and head on over, text me the address and I'll see you in a bit.'  I showered, and dressed in casual attire. It was just a T-shirt with my Mom's hero insignia and jeans with a pair of black sneakers, but I thought I looked good. I put my hair in my usual ponytail before heading for the address Midoriya texted me. I hesitated slightly before knocking on the door. When it opened, I saw Izuku in front of me.

"Hey, you made it! Come on in, Hino." He greeted.

"Hey, thanks for the invite." I smiled as I entered the doorway, taking my shoes off and putting on the house slippers Izuku showed me. Once I was ready, he brought me further inside.

"Hey, Mom, my friend's here." He called to her as he led the way. I looked around. They had a beautiful home that had an open kitchen and living room, and straight ahead of me in the hallway were two separate rooms, one of which the door held a sign that screamed my Dad's merch and had his name in gold letters. I smiled before going into the living room to meet my host. When I came face to face with her, it was like I was seeing double of Izuku. Big, round green eyes and green hair, though hers were darker than his, and her hair was straight and shoulder-length, with a small and spiky ponytail at the back. She was taller than me by an inch, but she was a round woman that reminded me of the comfort of home. "Hino, this is my Mom, Inko Midoriya. Mom, this is the friend I've been telling you about, Hinotori." I bowed in respect.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, especially considering Izuku talks highly of you all the time, and thank you so much for inviting me to your home. It's beautiful." I replied.

"The pleasure's all mine, Hinotori, it's lovely to meet the friend my Izuku's been talking about all this time." She smiled. "Dinner'll be ready in a few minutes, so why don't you two grab a seat in the living room and catch up."

"Is there anything I can help with?" I asked. She giggled.

"Oh, no, sweetheart. You grab a seat and dinner'll be ready soon. From what Izuku's told me, you've been training extra hard the past couple days, it's about time you give your muscles some proper fuel." She told me, gently shooing me toward the couch. I couldn't help but giggle.

"Okay, but if you need help, just holler my name." I told her.

"I will." She beamed before scurrying back to the kitchen. I smiled.

"So, Hino, did Todoroki end up contacting you?" Izuku asked.

"Actually, yeah, he did. He called before you texted me... He got to see his Mom." From the look on his face alone, Midoriya already knew the situation with Todoroki and his family, or at least part of it.

"He did? How did it go, how's he doing?" Izuku asked. So, I told him what Todoroki told me. By the time I was done, he breathed in relief. "I'm glad it went so well, and even more so that he's okay."

"Me too... Honestly, I hope things continue to work out for him. But, it's Iida I'm worried about." I brought up.

"Honestly, me too." Midoriya looked down. "I've been worried since you told me what happened. I just hope everything's all right."

"Me too. When he sets his mind to something, it's all he can see. He'll get himself into trouble if he's not careful..." I trailed off, not wanting to think about the consequences of Iida were to go after the person responsible.

"Now, now, you two, that's enough of that sad talk, let's give your bodies some fuel." Mrs Midoriya told us, shuffling into the dining area. My stomach rumbled at the smell of the katsudon she'd cooked, making both of them giggle. 

"Guess I'm hungrier than I thought." I sheepishly giggled.

"Come on, let's eat." Izuku replied as we got up, sitting at the table. 

"Hinotori, I couldn't help but notice your shirt. Is that Ace's symbol?" She asked. I nodded.

"Yeah, Ace was my mom." I answered as I sat down. When I caught her glance, she was smiling softly. 

"Despite the horrible things you've gone through this year, I think it's safe to say your mother would be proud of the strong and sweet young woman you've grown into." Inko told me. I smiled.

"Thank you, Mrs. Midoriya." I replied.

"You call me Inko, sweetheart. If you need anything at all, you can come to me." She gently patted my hand.

"Thank you, Inko." I smiled, and when she smiled back, her eyes shone brightly, just like Izuku's when he smiled. I found myself at ease as I ate dinner with the Midoriyas, and afterward, we reviewed the Sports Festival footage together. I saw for myself how Midoriya had caught up with me. I sighed a bit after it got to the final tournament, watching his match with Todoroki. "We really need to find a way for you to control that power better... Maybe some way for you to hold it over your entire body like I do with my flame armor."

"At 100%?!" He shrieked, looking at me wide eyed.

"Not right away, you'll break every bone in your body if you tried. I mean starting from what your body can handle and building up, kinda like building a tolerance." I told him, pulling my feet under me and leaning on my elbow, my palm holding my cheek. 

"How am I supposed to do that?" He asked.

"Well, since Quirks are physical abilities, I'd assume training, though I don't think Dad would be any help in that department. I'd help, but I'm honestly not sure how to direct you how to do it." I crossed my arms over my chest, frowning in thought.

When we went back to school the next day, it was dark and raining, and it felt... Almost ominous... I scrolled through my phone as I rode the train to school, trying to ignore the fact that my Mom had been involved in that fatal fight 9 years ago that day. "Psst. Hey... Hey, you, kid." I raised my head to find a man smiling softly at me. "You're Hinotori Yagi from Class 1-A, right? You were amazing in the Sports Festival." The man's words had turned the attention of everyone around us. Pretty soon, I had everyone around me congratulating me. "Keep up the good work, young hero!" They all told me at the same time as I got off the train.

"Oh, thank you so much!" I bowed in respect before I left the station, heading to school. But, the bad feeling hadn't gone away. I felt like something was wrong, but couldn't place it... Why do I feel like this? Like I did the day Mom died? I thought, wishing that this feeling of dread would just be washed away by the rain...

"Morning, Hino." Izuku greeted, breaking me out of my thoughts.

"Hey, good morning." I greeted back, before noticing he looked tired. "You okay?" He nodded.

"I just feel like I'm barely awake..." He answered. Before I could reply, we heard a familiar voice call out to us. 

"Good morning Midoriya and Yagi!" We both turned to see our class president heading toward us. He was decked out in rain boots and a green poncho with a hood that was pulled over his head, making it easy for him to run and stay dry.

"Whoa, Iida! You really went all out with the rain gear." Izuku observed. 

"Why on Earth are you two walking so slowly?" He passed us. "You'll be late!"

"There's five minutes until the first bell, what'd you mean we'll be late?" I asked as we hurried after him. 

"UA students should always arrive ten minutes early, don't you think?" He questioned in counter before speeding up. Izuku and I looked at each other before we followed our classmate inside. As I shook the rain off my umbrella and put it in the spot designated for our class, Izuku spoke up.

"So, um, Iida..."

"If it's about my brother, don't be concerned." Iida cut off Izuku as he put on his school shoes and took his hood off. "I'm sorry if I made you worry, everything'll be fine." He assured as he turned to look at us before we headed toward our classroom. Judging by the look on Izuku's face, he was just as worried as I was. The look in his eyes didn't match what he said, something was obviously wrong... Once we were in our class, everyone was buzzing from the past couple days.

"It's so weird that people recognize us from TV. Everyone wanted to talk to me on my way here." Mina was saying.

"Yeah, me too!" Kirishima grinned.

"People on the street were staring at me! It was kind of embarrassing..." Hagakure shifted a bit.

"Sure, but isn't that pretty normal for you?" Ojiro asked. Oh my god, this boy...

"You won't believe what a bunch of elementary school brats yelled at me." Sero spoke up.

"Nice try?" Tsu and I guessed at the same time, making Sero groan.

"All it took was one Sports Festival and suddenly we're like celebrities." Kaminari told Mineta.

"This school really is amazing." Mineta replied. The door opened as everyone stopped talking and took their seats. 

"Morning." 

"Good morning, Mr Aizawa." We all greeted our teacher in return. When he faced everyone, I saw that the bandages were off, and despite a scar on his face, he looked perfectly fine. 

"Ribbit, Mr Aizawa, you don't have bandages anymore, that's good news." Tsu observed. 

"The old lady went a little overboard in her treatment. Anyway, we have a big class today on Hero Informatics." Aizawa replied. Everyone tensed up. Geeze, how many times were we gonna do this where we all tense up because we're expecting the worst? "You need codenames." Mr. Aizawa finally finished after a silence way too long for any of my classmates' likings. "Time to pick your hero identities." 

"This is gonna be totally awesome!" Everyone cheered, before immediately quieting down when Aizawa glared, his eyes flashing red. 

"This is related to the pro hero draft picks that I mentioned the last time we were in class together. Normally, students don't have to worry about the draft yet, not until their second or third year, actually... But your class is different. In fact, by extending offers to first years like you, pros are essentially investing in your potential. Any offers can be rescinded if their interest in you dies down before graduation, though." I heard Mineta slam his fist on his desk before he mumbled.

"Stupid, selfish adults..." I kicked the back of his chair to get him to shut up. 

"So, what you're saying is, we'll still have to prove ourselves after we've gotten recruited." Hagakure spoke up. 

"Correct. Now, here are the totals for those of you who got offers." He pressed a button on a remote and it showed a hologram total of the offers. I was in first, Todoroki was in second, Bakugo was third and so on. I felt my face burn as most of our classmates, turned, grinning at me. "In past years, it's been more spread out, but there's a pretty big gap this time."

"Gah! That's no fair!" Kaminari exclaimed. 

"What about the real star? Moi?" Aoyama asked.

"Todoroki got more than Bakugo?" Jiro questioned.

"Yeah, it's the opposite of how they placed in the festival..." Kirishima trailed off. I was curious to see the list, but there was only one agency that I could think of that might have sent an offer in... My Mom's old agency in Hosu. It was run by the same sidekick who had been Mom's right hand while Mom was still alive... Ember. 

"You must be proud." I heard Yayorozu talking to Todoroki.

"These offers are probably because of my father." Todoroki replied. I had to cover a snort when I looked over at Ochaco and Iida. She had gasped and was shaking Iida.

"People want us!" She squealed. Meanwhile, my poor friend looked shocked, though, and when I looked at his name, I saw that he had gotten no offers at all.

"Midoriya, you got none." Mineta commented. "I bet everyone was grossed out by the crazy way you were fighting."

"Can you quit rubbing salt in the wound for two seconds, Mineta?" I asked. 

"Despite these results, you'll all be interning with pros, got it? Even those of you who didn't get any offers." Aizawa continued.

"Oh, so, we're all interning?" Midoriya asked. 

"Yes. You already got to experience combat with real villains during the attack on the USJ facility. But, it'll still be helpful to see pros at work. Up close and personal in the field firsthand."

"And for that, we need hero names!" Sato exclaimed. 

"Things are suddenly getting a lot more fun!" Uraraka added. 

"These hero names will likely be temporary, but take them seriously, or..." 

"You'll have hell to pay later!" Midnight finished as she opened the door. Kaminari, Sero and Mineta all gawked at Midnight as she entered the room. "What you pick today could be your codename for life. You better be careful, or you'll be stuck with something utterly indecent."

"Yeah, she's got a good point. Midnight is going to have final approval over your names. It's not my forte." Aizawa told us as he brought out his sleeping bag. "The name you give yourself is important. It helps reinforce your image and shows the kind of hero you want to be in the future. A codename tells people exactly what you represent. Take All Might for example." Aizawa then had us each get a whiteboard and marker. I uncapped it, but as I was about to start, I heard soft growling, and I froze for a second as I watch Bakugo scribble something on his board before another growl left him, making me roll my eyes. He was probably gonna come up something with the words Explosion or Murder in it... But for me, my codename had been decided a long time ago.

"Hey, baby bird, whacha got there?" Mom had asked me a couple years after I got my quirk. I held up the paper to her as best as my four year old arms could reach. 

"Possible codenames. When I grow up, I'm going to be a strong hero, just like you and Daddy!" I had told her, my hands squeezing into fists as I was on pins and needles, waiting for her response as she read the hero names. She smiled.

"There are some good ones in here like Emberfall, and Cinder, and Scarlet Wing... Oooh, Phoenix might be my favorite, though." She smiled down at me.

"But, it's just the same name as my Quirk... It's not very creative..." I trailed off. Mom lifted me up in her arms.

"But, a phoenix is a symbol of rebirth, remember? It shows that no matter how many times you're pulled down, you'll always soar back up into the sky again to shine bright. You did say you want to be a hero that gives a light of hope to people in times of trouble. What's a better name than Phoenix?" She smiled. 

I brought myself out of the memory as I wrote my hero name on my board. The Blazing Ace: Phoenix. No point in changing it after keeping it in mind for the past 11 years, right? After a few minutes, Midnight spoke again. "Now, students, who among you is ready to share?" Wait, we're presenting these?! I thought. Much to my surprise, Aoyama walked up first. 

"Hold your breath... The Shining Hero. My Name is I Cannot Stop Twinkling! Mon amis, you can't deny my sparkle." Oh, come on....

"It'll be better this way. Take out the I and shorten Cannot to Can't." Midnight advised.

"It's stunning, mademoiselle." Aoyama replied.

"She likes it?" Kirishima, Kaminari, Jiro, Midoriya, Sato and I all questioned.

"Also, you're not really french are you? That's just an act." Sato pointed out.

"Okie doke, lemme go next! My codename: Alien Queen!" Mina exclaimed as she took the podium next. Oooh, it definitely fit her...

"Hold on, like that horrible monster with the acidic blood? I don't think so." Midnight shot down Mina's.

"Dang it..." Mina sulked as she went back to her seat. Tsu raised her hand.

"Ribbit, I think I've got one. Okay if I go next?" She asked.

"Come on up." Midnight encouraged. Once she was at the podium, Tsu spoke again.

"I've had this name in mind since grade school... Rainy Season Hero: Froppy." 

"That's delightful! It makes you sound approachable. What a great example of a name everyone will love!" Midnight approved Tsu's.

"Froppy! Froppy! Froppy! Froppy!" All of us cheered as she sat down. Kirishima was next.

"Got mine too! The Sturdy Hero, my name is Red Riot!"

"Awesome!" I exclaimed, making him grin at me.

"Red Riot, interesting. You're paying homage to the Chivalrous hero Crimson Riot, yes?" Midnight inquired.

"That's right. He may be kinda old school, but someday, I wanna be just like he was. Crimson's my idol." Kirishima replied.

"Hm... If you're bearing the name of someone you admire, you have that much more to live up to."

"I accept the challenge." Kirishima told her, grinning. 

"Man.... I still can't think of anything that's cool enough..." Kaminari trailed off before he got tapped by Jiro.

"Hey, I've got one. How does Jamming-Yay sound to you?" Jiro asked.

"Oh, it's like Hemingway who wrote A Farewell to Arms, right? Real clever, I like it!" Kaminari answered.

"No..." Jiro snickered. "It's because even though you're powerful, you always..." A snort left her. "Jam your brain." I covered my mouth as a snort left me too.

"Aw come on, Jiro, quit messing with me!" Kaminari exclaimed. Jiro then went up.

"The Hearing Hero, I'm Earphone Jack!" 

"Now, that's a good one!" Midnight told her.

"The Tentacle Hero: Tentacole!" Shouji's was a play on words.

"Oh, I like what you're doing with that. A nice portmanteau."

"The Taping Hero: Cellophane." Sero's was pretty cool.

"That's on the nose, good work!" Midnight gave her thumbs up.

"Martial Arts Hero: Tailman!" Ojiro's was all right...

"No surprise with that one, I guess." Midnight's response was mediocre with his, but she approved it still.

"I'm The Sweets Hero: Sugar Man!" Sato's goes on the cool name list.

"Perfect!"

"PINKY!" Mina exclaimed hers at the top of her lungs.

"Make those looks work for you, girl!" Midnight approved the second attempt Mina had. 

"The Stun Gun Hero: I am Chargebolt! Electric, don't you think?" Kaminari's definitely goes on the cool list along with Kirishima's. 

"Makes me all tingly!"

"The Stealth Hero: I'm Invisible Girl!" Hagakure's was a little too on the nose...

"That really suits you!" Midnight's response to Hagakure's codename was pretty mediocre.. "Now, come on, who's gonna step up next?!" It's a wonder our teacher could stay asleep during all this ruckus... Yayorozu was next.

"I hope that I can live up to this name.... The Everything Hero: I'm Creati!"

"Creative!"

"Shoto." 

"Just your name? That's it?" Midnight asked.

"Uh huh." Todoroki answered her. Aw come on, why not something like ThermaFrost, Todoroki?! I thought, but kept the potential name to myself for a moment.

"The Jet Black Hero, Tsukoyomi." And Tokoyami adds a new hero name to the cool list!

"God of the Night..." Midnight swooned.

"The Fresh-Picked Hero, Grape Juice!"

"Very kitschy!" What the hell does that word even mean? Anyways, Kota was up next with showing us the name Petting Hero: Anima. "Yep, all about it!" That... was when Bakugo walked up...

"King Explosion Murder." He growled. Called it...

"I'm gonna say that one's a little too violent."

"HUH?! WHADDYA MEAN?!" Bakugo shouted.

"Why don't you be Explosion Boy?" Kirishima called out to him, half teasing him.

"YOU SHUT UP, WEIRD HAIR!" He shouted as Kaminari and I both snickered. "OR ELSE I'LL TAKE YOU OUTSIDE AND SHOW YOU WHY EXPLOSION MURDER SHOULD BE IN MY NAME!" 

"Not very heroic, Bakugo." I teased him, making him glare at me before I ignored him for Uraraka.

"This is the name I've thought of: Uravity." And there's officially a cute list.

"I just love that!" Midnight gushed, making Uraraka sigh in relief. "To be honest, choosing names is going faster than I thought it would. All we have left is young Bakugo who has to rethink his, Yagi, and Iida. Oh, yes, and Midoriya too." I stood up.

"It's not that I had trouble coming up with mine... It's just meant so much to me that I haven't thought of anything else." I replied as I walked to the front. "Everyone else's is so creative..." I looked at my hero name as I got to the podium, nervous about revealing it to everyone.

"Go ahead, Yagi." Midnight encouraged me, and when I glanced up, I found matching grins of encouragement on Kirishima and Kaminari's faces. I gave a small smile back before showing my hero name. 

"The hero I want to be is one who is able to be a light of hope for everyone... From now on, call me the Blazing Ace: I am Phoenix." I told them.

"Paying homage to your mother as well as making it your own. It's perfect." Midnight nodded in approval and I saw Kirishima pump his fist in the air. As I went back to my seat, Kaminari and Kirishima both held up their hands for high fives, which I gave them as I walked by. Once I sat down, I glanced over at Iida. He looked like he was remembering something awful. When he finally walked up, his first name was on his board.

"You're using your real name too?" Midnight asked. He doesn't feel like he can take on the name of Ingenium yet... I thought, seeing the look on his face. "Well, Midoriya, are you ready?" 

"Oh... Yes." Izuku replied as he stood up. I smiled at his chosen hero name, but it made everyone else gasp.

"Really, Midoriya?" Mineta asked.

"You sure about that?" Kaminari looked unsure himself.

"Yeah, man, remember, that could be your name forever." Kirishima added. 

"Right. I used to hate it... But, then, something changed. I guess.... Someone taught me that it could have a different meaning., and that had a huge impact on how I felt. So, now, I really like it." Ochaco and I exchanged smiles, knowing what he meant. "Deku. That has to be my codename!" I smiled at Izuku, finding him smiling back at both Ochaco and I. Once he sat down, though....

"LORD EXPLOSION MURDER!"

"That's basically the same thing." Midnight voiced my thoughts on Bakugo's second attempt. That was when our teacher got up.

"Now that everyone's decided their hero names, we can go back to talking about your upcoming internships. They'll last for one week. As for who you'll be working with: Those of you who were on the board will choose from among your offers, everyone else will have a different list. You have a lot to think about. There are around 40 agencies across the country who've agreed to take on interns from your class. Each agency has a different specialty that its heroes focus on. Keep that in mind."

"Imagine that you're Thirteen. You'd want to choose a place that focuses on rescuing people and not fighting villains, understand?"

"Think carefully before you decide."

"Yes, sir!" We all acknowledge our teachers' words as the bell rang. When I got my list, I saw that pretty much every agency except for Endeavor's agency put in an offer for me. I wasn't really all too surprised that Endeavor wasn't recruiting me, he's only interested in training his own son, after all...

"Turn in your choices before the weekend." Aizawa told us as I looked over the list. It wasn't too far from the list that I saw Ember's agency. I hadn't seen her in a few years... I wonder how she's doing... 

"Wait, we've only got two days?!" Sero asked.

"So much for no rush..." I mumbled. 

"Yeah, so you should start now. You're dismissed." Aizawa replied before he closed the door. Once lunchtime came around, Mina spoke up.

"So, guys, have you decided what pro agency you wanna go for?" She questioned all of us.

"Mount Lady's my top choice!" Mineta was the first to answer.

"Why doesn't that surprise me, ya little pervert?" I questioned. 

"You made it pretty far in the tournament... It's pretty surprising you didn't get any offers." Ojiro told her.

"I know!" Mina exclaimed.

"Hey, Deku, who's on your list?" Ochaco asked. 

"There are only 40 heroes who'll take us, so after looking up their specialties and splitting them into groups, I can start narrowing...."

"Here we go again..." I mumbled, but Izuku got snapped out of his ramble.

"Huh? Oh, sorry, what'd you guys say?" He asked.

"You're really thinking hard about this, aren't you?" Tsu countered.

"That's the curse of overthinking everything." I shrugged. 

"It'll all work out, I've settled on my pick." Ochaco replied.

"Yeah? Who'd you go with?" I asked. 

"The agency that the Battle Hero, Gunhead, runs." She responded.

"Huh? Gunhead's a big brawler, though. Are you sure that's where you wanna intern, Uraraka?"

"Yep, he sent me an offer!" She punched the air, and I couldn't help the smile that crossed my face. 

"Whoa, really? But, I thought you were trying to be a hero kinda like Thirteen, more into rescuing than fighting." Ochaco let her fist drop.

"Ultimately, that's the plan..."

"But since your match against Bakugo, you wanna expand your skill set to include being able to handle combat situations as well as rescue missions." I finished, making her nod at me before she shifted her position and punched the air with her other hand. Why was she so cute?!

"Plus the stronger I am, the more possibilities I'll have! Plus, learning from a battle hero will give me a different perspective, right?" Izuku blinked for a few seconds.

"Yeah, totally." He replied. 

"More importantly, there's something I've been meaning to ask you all day... Why are you trembling?"

"Oh, this? It's exercise." He answered. 

"Exercise?!" That was about when I saw what she was talking about. Izuku was sitting, but he was keeping himself hovering about an inch above his chair.

"Geeze, you're training your body even when sitting still?" I asked. 

"Were you doing that for the whole class?"

"There's no way!" Mina exclaimed. 

"That's such an old fashioned way to train."

"A smart way, though." Ojiro countered Mineta. "The isometric muscle contraction that's needed to hold your body above your seat makes it an easy way to work out without moving." I glanced at Bakugo while Ojiro was talking and saw that the blond in front of Izuku looked even more pissed off than before. 

"Idiots..." He growled out.

"Tis skill not strength that governs a ship." We heard Tokoyami muse. Ochaco turned to me.

"What about you, Hino? Have you chosen your agency yet?" She asked. I nodded.

"Actually, yeah, I'm going to Ember's agency." I answered.

"Wait, isn't that one your Mom's old agency?" Ojiro questioned. I nodded.

"Mmhmm, Ember's also the one who helped my Mom teach me how to use my flames when I was little. I need to work on improving my body's resistance to my own flames, so it's the best option for me." I replied. Plus, it's in Hosu City. Judging by the look on Iida's face, he's going with his brother's old agency, which allows me to keep an eye on Iida. I thought, glancing at Iida as he looked like he had chosen too. When it was time to head home, I gathered up my things, being pulled to the door by my arm by Ochaco.

"Hey, Deku! Wanna walk together?" She asked him. He nodded, smiling at her in response.

"Iida, come with u- Huh..." When we turned toward Iida's seat, we found that our friend had already left.

"I bet he already decided where to do his internship."

"Honestly, that's what I'm worried about." I told Izuku.

"He's probably off turning in his forms right now..." Izuku replied. My Dad pretty much slid in front of the door just as Izuku opened it, startling the crap out of both of us. 

"I AM HERE IN A BIZZARE POSITION!"

"Really, Dad, did you have to give me a heart attack?!" I asked. 

"Yeah, what's that about and why are you in such a hurry?" Izuku asked. 

"Hi, come with me a sec." Dad didn't answer Izuku's question. 

"Uh, sure, okay." Izuku replied. We both went with my Dad. Once we were secluded enough, Dad spoke again.

"I'll get straight to the point. You've received an offer from a hero who'd like to take you on." Dad told Izuku. 

"Wait, seriously, who?!" He asked.

"Yes, the hero's name is Gran Torino." The name sent a chill down my spine. Gramps?! "He taught at this school back in my day, but only for one year. In fact, the man was my homeroom teacher. He knows about One For All, as well... Actually, I suspect that's the reason he asked for you." I watched as Izuku's face went from excited to super excited. "This guy sounds totally awesome!" Then he came back down to Earth. "Wait. So, he knows how your Quirk works too? But how?"

"Gran Torino was the sworn friend of my predecessor. He retired a long time ago, so I forget to count him among the people that know." That's when Dad started shaking. I remembered the first time I met Gran Torino. It was one of the times Mom had been working and Gran Torino had come for a visit. I had only been three years old at the time, but he had told me he'd trained both my Dad and my Mom, to which Mom confirmed he had been practically a Dad to her after her own parents had passed away.  Dad had always been intimidated by him, but to me, it was Gramps, the same man who had been just as much a part of my life from the beginning as Dad had. "Is this because I wrote about you in the letter I sent him? Or did he watch the festival and think that my teaching was inadequate? If he went so far as to use his old hero name when making the offer... It's scary! Too scary!"

"Been a while since you freaked out over Gramps..." I trailed off under my breath.

"Wait, Gramps?" Izuku asked me. I nodded.

"He taught Dad and my Mom and he's been in my life since before she died." I explained. "He's the closest thing I have to a grandparent." I answered.

"Dammit, legs, stop shaking!" I heard Dad growl, but he was only freaking out Midoriya more. "Anyway, it is my duty to train you. But, since you got an offer, you should work with him this week if that's what your heart says. Anyway, h-h-here's the-the-the-the-the address." 

"You really gotta get a hold of yourself, Dad." I told him. He shook it off before looking at me.

"Did you already pick your agency, Hino?" He asked me after Midoriya thanked him and walked away. I nodded.

"Yeah, I'm going with Ember's agency."

"Be careful in Hosu City, Hinotori." I blinked at the use of my Dad's full name. He never usually calls me that... "I heard that the Hero Killer already attacked Young Iida's brother in Hosu. The next few times he'll be there, it'll be to kill."

"I'll be careful, Dad, I promise." I swore to him, knowing I probably wouldn't be able to keep it if Iida did what I thought he was going to do... It had been all over the news after the Sports Festival, what happened to our friend's older brother. The Hero Killer had been responsible for 17 hero deaths, and had injured 23 so badly, they'd never work as heroes again., Ingenium being the 24th victim to be left for dead. When I had gotten home, I did a little more research on The Hero Killer. Stain, as he was known, had been first known as a killer vigilante, Stendhall. After an encounter with the hero Knuckleduster, he changed his ideals from killing villains to killing those he considered to be sham heroes. His M.O.? Critically injuring the first hero he came a cross to send a warning before killing three other heroes in the same city, after which, he would move on and the process would start all over again... That chilled me more than any villain could...

The next morning, we were all gathered at the train station. "Everyone has their hero costumes, right?" Aizawa asked us. "Remember, you don't have permission to wear them out in public yet, and don't lose them or anything." 

"Gotcha!" Mina exclaimed, holding up her case as she hopped onto one foot.

"Speak properly! It's 'Yes, sir', Ashido." Aizawa reprimanded. 

"Yes, sir." Mina sulked. 

"Make sure you mind your manners with he other heroes during your internships. Now, get to it." Aizawa told us.

"Yes, sir." We all echoed, but I noticed the look in Iida's eyes and my stomach dropped at the sight. He was planning on going after Stain if the two crossed paths... Shit... I walked with Iida towards the station we were leaving toward.

"Yagi? You're going to Hosu too?" He asked once he noticed me. I nodded.

"Yeah, the agency I chose is my Mom's old one. There's a hero there that has a fire quirk similar to mine, and since I need more control over my flames, I'm going to learn from her." I answered.

"Iida, wait!" We both stopped at Izuku's voice, turning to face him. Ochaco and Izuku both joined us. "Hey, if you ever wanna talk or anything, just let us know." Ochaco nodded to affirm that she thought the same thing. "We're friends, right?" He asked. Iida smiled, though it was half what his normal smile was.

"Yes." He replied, reaffirming that we all were friends before he walked away. Ochaco and Izuku both looked as worried as I felt.

"I'll keep an eye on him, guys. It'll be okay." I tried to reassure them before I left, but even from a bit behind Iida, I could feel the urge to kill Stain coming off of Iida. In that moment, I should have tried harder to get him to tell Izuku and Ochaco the truth, how he was feeling. In the days to come, my biggest regret would be not being there for him...

(Taglist: @euphorical-angel @qweenexplosionmurder13

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[dascarecrow]

It Took A Village - Dark Trial I

It should have been a good day. It was supposed to be a good day.

And yet it was not to be.

It would all begin with the pair of mothers that were Inko Midoriya and Mitsuki Bakugou, on their way to visit the esteemed place of heroic academia known as UA. And the reason for this visit? To see a certain little unicorn of course.

The two women had their minds occupied with typical nana and auntly things, namely fussing over Inko's adoptive granddaughter who lived on the UA campus. Said fussing would be soon be the furthest thing from their minds.

Everything seemed fine when they first arrived, the students scattered around the dorm without a care and engaged with their own leisure time. Inko's son Izuku greeted his mother and honorary aunt cordially, just as could be expected of such a well behaved boy, but things would quickly turn away from uplifting and cheerful when Izuku called for young Eri, the unicorn of the dorm.

Normally a visit from her adoptive grandmother and aunt would elicit smiles and joyfulness from the young girl but it was clear at a look that she was feeling anything but that. She slowly walked up, no smiles to be found. Instead a sad frown adorned her face and her eyes looked filled with sorrow. It just wasn't right for her to look so sad.

"Hello Nana." Eri barely spoke above a whisper, further growing the seeds of concern in Inko's mind. "Hello Eri. It's nice to see you again." Eri said nothing, just giving a slow nod and kept looking forward like she wasn't really there in the first place.

Izuku spoke up, breaking up the increasing tension just a bit. "Eri why don't you give your Nana a hug?" A soft "okay" was all the response that was given before the young girl gave her grandmother a hug. It wasn't like her usual hugs though, seeming as though she was doing a highly rehearsed type of hug and was simply going through the motions.

It was simply baffling. Why was dear little Eri acting so withdrawn and sad? There had to be a reason for it. But that wasn't the only shocking thing to happen.

Bakugou had made his way over, scowling as he ever did. "Hey kid." he said at an even, almost soft tone. He continued once Eri looked up at him. "There's an Ohranger marathon about to start. Want to watch it?" Eri gave a slight nod and in a move that would surprise anyone who knew the explosive teen in the slightest he offered her his hand and led her over to the couch, almost tenderly one might say.

That would lead to a dam of confusion bursting wide open. "Okay what in the world is going on? Eri looks like someone just shot her dog and that brat of mine is actually acting civilized. What is going on here?" Leave it to Mitsuki to get right to the point.

Izuku sighed, knowing this was going to come up sooner or later. He looked over at Eri on the couch, still looking downtrodden. "Follow me. There's a bit of a story I have to share." The two followed after the green haired boy, silently dreading what they were going to discover.

They were right to do so.

-----------

"WHAT?!"

That would be the response Mitsuki gave when Izuku explained what had Eri in such a dreadful mood.

As Izuku had explained it the villain Overhaul was trying to press charges against the very police department that had overseen his arrest. Claims were made that he was deliberately left with minimal security, thereby enabling the loss of his arms at the hands of the League of Villains. Said claims sounded absolutely absurd but the case was making headway for whatever reason. And that was only the start of this misery.

"You mean to tell me that... that... monster is actually trying to get out of jail!" Izuku shook his head at his honorary aunt. "No, that's not going to happen. His crimes should see him in Tartarus for the rest of his life." Izuku sounded more like he was hoping that would be the outcome than being certain of it. But he was snapped out of his funk by his mother.

"Is that why Eri is so sad today?" The question should have been expected but it still startled Izuku, who looked at his mother. "You might say that. Everyone who was involved with the Overhaul case is being summoned to court. And that includes Eri."

Inko and Mitsuki stood silent for a moment, processing what they just heard. Then Mitsuki gained a look of pure rage on her face. "Are you kidding me?" She spoke in an ice cold tone to contrast the burning fury on her face. "Does anyone know what that monster did to her? How he tortured her? Does no one know what they're asking that little girl to go through?" "That's exactly why they want Eri in court." The ash blonde woman stopped her tirade at that.

"Overhaul's case is based on the idea that the police officers and Pro-Heroes knew what he was doing to Eri when we rescued her and his legal team is trying to make it out that because of that he was deliberately left vulnerable for the League of Villains to attack."

Both women looked on in shock at him. Mitsuki would break the silence. "There's no way. There's no way this can actually be happening. After everything he did... to Eri... to those Pros... there's no way he should even be seeing the light of day." Inko was much of the same mind but her thoughts soon focused on the trauma this was causing for her granddaughter. "Oh poor Eri. Having to suffer like this. She's so young... and has been through so much already..." The green haired woman was about to start tearing up over what her white haired granddaughter was going through.

The three soon made their way back to the living room where Eri and Bakugou were watching their Sentai show. But young Eri's heart just didn't seem in it. There was no wonder in her eyes. No excited copying of the heroes' battle cries. No joy. She just sat there watching the show but not truly looking like she was watching it. Just sitting there listlessly as the world went on by her.

It was just a sight that would break your heart.

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

The two mothers eventually left the esteemed halls of UA, having tried and failed to lift little Eri's fallen spirits just a tiny bit. It was disheartening to say the least to know what that poor girl was suffering through. Inko thought long and hard about what could possibly be done to help her granddaughter. And by the time she got back home she knew exactly what that should be. She got her phone and dialed in an all too familiar number, waiting for an answer. When she finally received one she spoke the words that would tip the scales from darkness to light.

"Hello Hisashi..."

To Be Continued

[landwriter]

✨️🌹 or x20 ✨️ your pick

Love your writing! And I hope you are doing okay!

Hob loves the way language changes.

He loves how words are picked up and passed along from one group to another, like a lump of unbaked clay taking on a different shape from each set of warm hands that hold it. He only wishes, sometimes, that he could hold onto it for a little longer.

It’s a foolish wish, because if it was granted, he knows he would find himself wishing again to hold it for a bit longer still. Granting it even once would only make him want more, and more, want to clutch a word for as long as his hungry heart beats on from one century into the next.

It would be impossible regardless - he can no sooner speak all his language at once than he can live all his lives at once. It is a gift enough to keep living, he reminds himself, and a gift enough to be able to watch the language changing around him.

Still - he can’t help himself. He misses odd little things. Words and euphemisms and endearments spread out over six centuries and a small slice of the continent, heaped onto his plate next to all the language of the United Kingdom too, clear back to when it was just Engelonde.

Most of them are attached to people he once knew, friends and associates and lovers, which must surely be part of pang of it: the bright wonder of hearing a turn of phrase from someone dear for the first time, whether it was popular or their very own invention; the warm familiarity of associating it with them if he ever heard it elsewhere, after leaving them, as he always did, ever dying off to keep on living somewhere else and someone else; and, inevitably, ending up the last man standing with their words, clinging onto the memory of them by stubbornly using it still, clutching fading ember of it in his bare palms until it's finally too queer and cold and dead within the living blood of language to keep on using.

Sometimes he gets a few decades out of it. Sometimes more, sometimes less.

He’ll share them, of course, if he finds it in a primary source somewhere, but by the time language makes it to print, it’s not on Hob’s shoulders alone to remember it anymore. The dearest ones have no documentation he can dredge up. He’s looked. But he chips in anyways, because it’s the closest thing. He presents them as a little gem of trivia in one of his introductory courses, a weekly Saying Of Yore at the start of his slides, and has the kids guess what it might mean first, to warm them up a bit into participating more, offering their ideas, which are so often refreshing and wildly bizarre that Hob remembers why he puts up with the rest of academia. From a pedagogical perspective it’s all very justifiable. From a personal perspective, he just hopes they’ll catch anew again, that someone will steal it, and breathe it to life again when they tell a friend.

The rest, he stores away. The rest, he slowly forgets. The rest, he translates.

---

i mean u know my pick, u all know my pick lmao. here's the opening (currently) of the death of translation. y'all are draining me of my unpublished words like thirsty little vampires and i am INTO IT!! although the only thing i really have left is yet more of this fic which i should ideally just finish writing and post hahaha. thank you so much, also, the ghost of richard ii, for your kind words!! i am sore today but my heart is full, winter is beautiful, and i am happily taking a day or two of breather before embarking on a car hunt.

[bkdk-art]

Too far away

Summary: Katsuki isn’t happy about how things went down in Otheon, feeling left out by Izuku. But he has a hard time admitting it and especially confronting the nerd with it to sort things out.

Fandom: My Hero Academia / Boku no hero academia

Characters: Bakugou Katsuki, Midoriya Izuku, Midoriya Inko, Bakugou Masaru, Bakugou Mitsuki, mention of Rody Soul

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki/Midoriya Izuku

Word Count: 4,000

Rating: General / Teen

AO3-Link

Notes: Takes place right after the World Heroes mission movie / Mild spoilers for the third bnha movie / I absolutely adore Rody as a character! My bkdk-shipper-heart was just really sad about how little screen time Izuku and Katsuki got together and I figured Katsuki would be too :P

_______________________________

Katsuki entered his parents’ house and slipped out of his shoes when he heard a soft voice saying: “No need to thank me, Mitsuki-san, I didn’t even miss it!”

Katsuki walked into the living room that was connected to the kitchen, saying: “I’m home”, and then directed at the small, green haired person next to his mother, “Hi, Auntie.”

He ignored his mother scolding him for not coming sooner and not texting them once while they were abroad.

Instead, he took in Inko’s smile and nodded when she said: “Congratulations on your successful mission, we are so proud of you! It’s nice to have you back home though.”

Too nice, he thought, Always way too nice.

They were so much alike, the nerd and his mother.

“Thanks”, he mumbled, nodding towards the rice cooker underneath her arm, “Did the old hag borrow that one from you again?”

“Who are you calling an old hag?!”, his mother started to ramble, while Inko chuckled into her hand.

His mother had the talent of leaving the rice cooker on, causing a blackout in almost the whole neighborhood, frying the device in the process every time.

“Come, come”, his father appeared from upstairs, raising his hands in a calming manner. He then looked at Katsuki, welcoming him with his eyes and Katsuki mustered a small smile in response.

“Well, I better get going”, Inko said, turning to leave, “Izuku should be home soon too”.

“I think he already is, actually”, Katsuki said, “We took the same train here.”

“Oh!”, she hustled towards the door, “Then I’ll better hurry. Thanks for having me, Mitsuki-san, Masaru-san”, she smiled at them, getting into her shoes, “Good to see you, Katsuki-kun. Have a nice evening!”

The three of them said their goodbyes and as soon as the door was closed his mother had him underneath her armpit, rubbing her fist over his skull, yelling at him for worrying her while his father tried to calm them both down.

Well. The usual shitshow.

~~~

Something was different, though. He was different.

Since defeating that mass murderer, who was trying to rid the planet off quirk owners, Katsuki had been zoning out a lot.

And his parents noticed too.

“Something is bothering you, isn’t it?”

Katsuki looked at his father, who was smiling at him. Patience on his face like always.

Where does he take that from anyway? Or the nerd? Or Inko? Was there some kind of secret fountain Katsuki hadn’t been told about?

Katsuki shook the thought off, pinching the bridge of his nose.

He didn’t want to tell them. He didn’t want to acknowledge it as a problem but it bothered the hell out of him!

“Katsuki?”, his mother asked when he didn’t respond for a while.

Katsuki sighed. “I’m mad at the nerd”, he admitted.

A moment of silence went by.

“So?”, his mother asked, frowing, “You and Izuku-chan are bickering all the time.”

Katsuki rolled his eyes. “Not like that. Like… mad.”

He couldn’t put the feeling into words and he couldn’t believe he was having this conversation with his parents. But his bothersome friends wouldn’t let him see the end of it if he would tell them. They were already making fun of him, saying he was focusing on Izuku way too much. Which he wasn’t!

“Well”, his father cleared his throat, “What did he do?”

Katsuki started to play with his fork.

That was even harder to spell out. Because it made him feel like a sulking brat.

“He just”, he shrugged, “He kind of ignored me, alright? When he was on the run with that bird dude, he reached out to Half’n’Half every time – calling him after being chased, even sending him some kind of riddle I would have solved in a split-second! He was also super invested in that bird guy who got him into that mess in the first place. Pisses me off.”

Silence. Again.

As if he was missing something.

“What?!”, he barked at his parents.

His father was still smiling at him but now he could register a different shade of fondness in his features.“Sounds like you’re hurt, not just mad.”

Katsuki’s face twisted as a response to that. “As if”, he scoffed.

He heard his mother sigh under her breath. “What’s wrong with that?”, she shrugged, starting to clean the table, “You want him to reach out to you, not just his other friends.”

Katsuki pressed his lips together.

The nerd hugging that bird brain came to his mind. A long, heartfelt embrace. The sight had made Katsuki’s blood boil. Izuku staying behind to say a cheesy goodbye, making them late for the flight had been bad enough but then hugging the damn trouble maker?!

Hurt.

Just to think the word made him feel uneasy.

Before he could think about it too hard, his mother shoved a few plates into his arms, telling him to help her.

He growled at her, but deep down he was glad for the distraction.

~~~

Later Katsuki was sitting on his old bed at his parents’ house, looking at his phone.

Izuku had sent him a message, telling him that he would like to stay the night at his mother’s, wondering what Katsuki was up to.

Katsuki sighed, rubbing his eyes. He had promised Kaminari to help him study tomorrow morning before he would meet up with his parents.

Gotta get back to UA, he wrote back, Dunce face needs some extra lessons.

After a few seconds Izuku answered: I see! Nice of you to help him out.

Katsuki’s grip around his phone tightened.

He didn’t need the nerd to tell him that. He already knew he was doing the Pikachu wannabe a favor. Him pointing it out and even praising him for it was so… so… belittling.

Breathe, he told himself, Breathe.

Izuku had sworn on all of his All Might-Merch that he had never looked down on Katsuki and Katsuki constantly reminded himself of that. It just needed a little more practice.

Them misunderstanding each other was nothing new. But they were working on it. Well, kind of. Maybe not really. Sometimes they started a conversation about it but it never got them anywhere. Mostly because one of them was too flustered or too stiff or too whatever and they would end up changing the topic or starting a training fight.

Katsuki stood up, pushing his thoughts aside. He needed to catch the last train.

As soon as he went downstairs, he saw that his parents were both sitting on the couch, chuckling about something.

“What’re you doing?”

“Oh look”, his mother said, smiling brightly, “Because we talked about Izuku-chan earlier we decided to look at your childhood pictures and they’re too adorable.”

“Tch”, Katsuki frowned but looked at the album nonetheless.

When he saw the way he had slung his arms around Izuku’s neck back then, both of them grinning into the camera, he felt his face drop.

“Gotta go”, Katsuki instantly turned around, heading for the door, “Thanks for the meal. See ya.”

He heard his parents follow him to the entrance area. They stood by the door as he left – something he hated because they made an unnecessary fuss about him leaving when he wasn’t that far away anyway.

Katsuki gave them a half-assed wave as a goodbye and walked out of the door. While walking down the front yard his father shouted: “Talk to him!”

Katsuki swirled around, sending him a death glare. His mother burst out laughing at that and Katsuki just clicked his tongue, making his way to the train station, ignoring the blush on his face.

~~~

Katsuki stepped into the train and sat down, looking out of the window and waiting for the train to take off.

He was thinking about the pictures his parents were looking at. And thinking of them he remembered something else that pissed him off about that mission in Otheon: The four of them – Izuku, Todoroki, Rody and Katsuki – had taken a picture together or better said, Katsuki had been forced to. And as if that hadn’t been annoying enough, the bird dude had pressed himself against Izuku with Half’n’Half leaning onto the nerd, leaving Katsuki looking like the third wheel.

Just as the sound of the doors closing appeared, Katsuki registered green lightnings in the corner of his eyes and before he knew it Izuku was standing next to him, panting.

“Did you just”, Katsuki said, leaning his chin onto his fist, feeling himself smirk “use OFA to catch a damn train?”

Izuku slummed down next to him. “Don’t judge me”, he said, “It’s the last one until 4 am.”

Katsuki scoffed at that.

After a few moments of silence, he added: “Thought you would stay the night.”

“Well”, Izuku breathed out, “My mom has to get up really early for work tomorrow so we wouldn’t have quality time anyway. And”, he grinned at Katsuki, “I like spending the ride home with you.”

Katsuki blinked at the nerd, kind of stunned. Eventually he just nodded, looking out of the window again.

How some people could just easily blurt out how they felt would never cease to amaze and frustrate him at the same time. Again, something he lacked even if he hated to admit it.

His parents were the same, especially his father, with that soft tone and reassuring words.

Katsuki thought about what he had said earlier.

Hurt.

Was that really the feeling that was making Katsuki’s stomach heavy right now? All he knew was that he didn’t like it, whether he was mad or hurt or whatever else.

~~~

They stayed silent for most of the ride. Izuku made a comment now and then and Katsuki responded mostly with agreeing or disagreeing sounds.

Eventually they got off the train and started walking towards UA. While they were walking through the forest, Katsuki’s mind wandered to their fight at Ground Beta a few months ago and how their walk now resembled the one back then, just that instead of walking behind him, Izuku was right next to him.

Katsuki thought about how he had challenged Izuku back then, how All Might and Izuku had told him the whole truth about OFA. How Izuku had told him that he admired him.

A lot had changed since then. Not enough, Katsuki was aware of that. But he was doing his best. He really was.

“Are you”, Izuku suddenly spoke up, “mad?”

Mad.

Katsuki let out an annoyed sigh. He’d like to know the answer to that question too.

He stopped in his way and Izuku did the same.

When Katsuki looked at him, those ridiculous green eyes were filled with worry and the nerd was even fidgeting with the hem of his shirt.

Talk to him, he heard his father calling out to him.

Breathe, he repeating in his head, Breathe. Breathe, just breathe.

“I”, he started to say, “I didn’t like how you acted in Otheon.”

Izuku gasped. “Because I got into trouble?”, he rushed to ask.

“No”, Katsuki shook his head, twisting his mouth, “Well, yes, that too. But what got on my nerves was the fact that…”, he shrugged. This was hard. He felt his stomach tremble. “It was because”, he said again, narrowing his eyes, “you only reached out to Half’n’Half. Calling him, sending him texts!”

Katsuki felt his voice growing louder and louder without being able to stop it.

“Leaving it to him to inform me like I’m just some fucking extra!”

“No, Kacchan, I-“

“I mean, what if we would have been separated too?“, Katsuki clenched his fists in frustration.

“But-“

“I wouldn’t have known anything about your shitty adventure! And also-“

“Stop!”, Izuku’s voice echoed through the trees.

Katsuki clicked his tongue, crossing his arms and looking away from the nerd.

They were standing underneath a street light and for a few moments its humming was the only sound around them.

“Can I say something?”, Izuku asked eventually.

Katsuki growled and signed him to go on.

“I’m sorry”, he said, sounding way too sincere, “I didn’t mean to… leave you out. I just didn’t think you would like me to contact you.”

Katsuki cropped up his lips.

“I will text and call you in the future. I promise.”

Katsuki felt himself tense. He realized that he wasn’t satisfied.

He wanted the nerd to only text him. But he knew that would be a bold demand, revealing a selfish and weirdly possessive side of him. A side that surprised even Katsuki.

“You better”, he finally said, looking at Izuku, “What made you think I wouldn’t want you to contact me in that kind of situation?”

Katsuki knew he probably wouldn’t like the answer. But he needed to hear it anyway, otherwise they would never make any progress.

Izuku started to shift uncomfortable, avoiding his gaze.

Katsuki sighed. “Spit it out”, he told him, “I can take it.”

Emerald eyes were shifting towards him, studying his face.

“I”, Izuku started to say, “I was worried you might not care. And that I was making it bigger than it was.”

Katsuki couldn’t hold in a snort. “Bigger than it was?”, he rolled his eyes, “You were accused of mass murder, Deku! Like what the actual fuck, I obviously cared.”

I always do, he thought but was too much of a coward to say it out loud.

Katsuki cleared his throat, once again looking away from a stunned Izuku.

“I was worried, for fuck’s sake”, he added, just in case, the nerd couldn’t read between the lines.

He heard Izuku exhaling a shaky breath. Katsuki still avoided looking at him.

“And”, he went on, just to get it over with, “The next time you want to take a picture either include me properly or leave me the fuck out of it!”

“Oh... I didn’t realize”, Izuku said in a low voice, more to himself and then louder: “Sure, Kacchan! I’ll take that as a promise we’ll be taking more pictures in the future!”

Katsuki huffed at that.

And because Katsuki didn’t want to get too emotional, he abruptly turned around, starting to run.

“First one at the dorm gets to decide our next training routine”, he called over his shoulder, challenging Izuku.

“Not fair!”, Izuku called out, starting to race Katsuki, “False start!”

Katsuki just barked out a laugh in response.

If he was being honest, he still felt the need to get off some steam. About Izuku cuddling that bird brain, still texting him every other day. About him being better at words and all that.

But that had been enough opening up for one day. Or week.

~~~

The days went by and instead of completely focusing on class and on the training that damn hug was constantly coming up in Katsuki’s mind.

Hugging was suddenly something he registered.

The girls were clinging onto each other every other minute. That girl with the horn was hugging Izuku and that Permeation-senpai every time they saw each other and even his friends did sometimes wrap their arms around each other.

But not around Katsuki and he didn’t even want them to, but that made him realize something else: He hadn’t allowed hugs for a while now.

He had shrugged his parents off for years already, every time as soon as they reached out to him. Even after being kidnapped, when they had approached him, tears in their eyes, he had shaken them off, not letting himself be pulled into their arms.

It wasn’t like he missed being held or anything – or was he? He wasn’t even sure.

Although starting to self-reflect and looking back at his former behaviors he sometimes struggled to distinguish between his real preferences and those walls he had just build up as a defense-mechanism.

So he didn’t know whether or not he liked being hugged – probably not? – but what he definitely knew was that Izuku hugging that bird guy was living rent free in his head and it nearly made him go crazy!

~~~

It was Saturday, two weeks had passed since their visit to their parents, and almost everyone had gone out.

Katsuki was leaning against the oven, waiting for his meal to get ready.

He was glad his friends weren’t around. They had been all over him for the last couple of days because some tests were coming up and now, he finally needed some damn space!

No one else was in the common room and although that place being quiet felt strange, he welcomed the silence.

Katsuki closed his eyes, counting the seconds until his timer would start ringing, when he heard steps coming down the stairs.

He took in a deep breath.

He would recognize those steps anywhere.

“You here too?”, he asked, without opening his eyes.

“Yeah”, Izuku answered, “All Might ordered me some rest and gave me some new notes on the former holders of OFA.”

Katsuki opened his eyes.

Izuku was standing a few steps away, his eyes shining with excitement.

Nerd, Katsuki thought, Through and through.

“Something interesting?”

Izuku pulled his shoulders all the way up to his ears, looking like a kid. “Haven’t started reading it yet.”

Katsuki pressed his lips together. He wanted to read those notes too. He wanted to discuss them with Izuku. He wanted to compare his own quirks with them, telling the nerd how he could easily outdo him anyway.

He wanted to but he couldn’t bring himself to admit it. Why was this so damn hard?!

“Maybe I’ll join”, he said after all, making it sound more like a statement than a question. It made him feel more in control.

“Sure!”, Izuku beamed at him and it made Katsuki’s eye wander to the floor.

Even if Katsuki would have asked, the nerd would have never denied him. So why was Katsuki not able to take that risk for once?!

While frowning at the ground and being angry at himself, Izuku stepped closer. When Katsuki lifted his head, he saw that Izuku was right in front of him and had opened up his arms and without thinking, without even hesitating he wrapped his arms around the nerd.

Katsuki was somehow overcome with a weird mixture of nostalgia and embarrassment and relief.

But then…

Izuku let out a surprised sound and when Katsuki leaned away from him, looking at him, he realized it: Izuku had been reaching behind Katsuki to grab a glass from the shelve.

Embarrassment – that was the only feeling left.

That’s why Katsuki yanked Izuku to the side, ignoring his blabbering and stomped away as fast as he could.

Shit, shit, shit, he thought while walking away, feeling his face head up, Shit, shit, shit.

He felt like dying right then and there.

What a cringe ass move, he couldn’t believe it.

“Kacchan!”

“Tch”, Katsuki clicked his tongue.

Of course the nerd wouldn’t let it go.

“Fuck off”, Katsuki said over his shoulder, knowing that he was being an asshole. But he couldn’t help himself, hearing his heart beating loudly in his chest.

“No, wait, Kacchan, please”, Izuku grabbed his arms, making him stop, “Sorry if I-“

“Don’t apologize!”, Katsuki swirled around, almost spitting the words out, “You didn’t do anything! Stop with the hollow apologies!”

Oh no. Katsuki was making this about something else, he realized it himself. But he couldn’t be talking about what happened a minute ago. He would pass out from it.

“They’re not hollow!”, Izuku defended himself.

Well, never mind. He could always count on Izuku to get caught up in whatever Katsuki was throwing at him and he knew he was a prick for using this but he just really could not talk about the… hug-fail.

Gosh, he thought, Someone shoot me.

He seriously considered knocking Izuku out, hoping that would make him forget the last few minutes.

“I always mean my apologies!”, Izuku started to ramble, still hung up on what Katsuki had said, “I really am sorry that I made you uncomfortable just now!”

No, no, no, don’t go there, Katsuki thought.

“I invaded your space. And I am sorry.”

Katsuki felt himself frown.

“What the fuck are you talking about?”, he snapped at the nerd, “I got closer to you!”

“And then you clearly didn’t like it!”, Izuku barked back, starting to get irritated too.

Katsuki shook his head briefly.

What was happening? Their conversation wasn’t making any sense!

A few moments went by and none of them said a word.

Katsuki wanted to tell him.

He wanted to tell Izuku that he didn’t want him to hug that bird dude ever again, especially when they had stopped hugging each other. He wanted to tell him that he was yet to figure out if he liked hugs, but that he wanted to hug Izuku. He wanted to tell him that he might be jealous of that Rody.

Well, that wasn’t exactly right.

He did not want to spell all of that out. He wanted Izuku to just get it.

But he wouldn’t because how could he? OFA didn’t contain a fucking mind reading quirk after all and thank God for that but right now – it would be fucking helpful and all these useless thoughts pushed Katsuki an inch closer to bursting out.

It was Izuku who snapped Katsuki out of his rampaging thoughts, eventually filling the silence with his words.

“Sometimes”, Izuku said, his voice unsarcastically husky, “you randomly make physical contact, like leaning your arm on my shoulder or ruffling through my hair or things like that. And… I enjoy it. Because it feels like we’re slowing getting back to how we were, you know?”

Izuku looked at him, tears welling up in his eyes and Katsuki felt like he had been slapped.

The nerd was right.

Katsuki had already started doing stuff like that. Stuff he did with no one else. At least not on his behalf.

The truth was that Katsuki was obviously seeking Izuku out for comfort gestures like that.

But then, seeing Izuku fully embracing that shithead… it had made Katsuki feel a thousand miles behind. Even after pushing himself to get closer to Izuku again, he was way behind some dude the nerd had just met a couple of days ago.

It had made him feel like they hadn’t made any progress after all. It had made him realize once again what he had wrecked in the past.

Katsuki pressed his lips together, feeling completely defeated.

“So I thought, maybe”, Izuku went on, “I could also step closer but I guess I don’t. I’m sorry, Kacchan, sometimes it’s just hard for me to follow the… the rules? I don’t know”, Izuku shrugged, brushing the tears away and Katsuki closed his eyes.

Katsuki couldn’t follow those fucked up rules either. He realized he made Izuku being on the tip of his toes around him.

He exhaled a long deep breath.

“Listen”, Katsuki finally said, rubbing his eyes, “The thing just now… I thought you wanted to hug me. I wanted to hug you back. Realizing you didn’t even mean it as a hug, I snapped. Okay?”

Listing the course of events was okay. Talking about feelings like jealousy or embarrassment wasn’t in the cards. Katsuki wasn’t ready for that.

Izuku stepped closer. “I didn’t realize I was allowed to hug you.”

The way Izuku talked made Katsuki feel like a shitty tyrant. Making up some unpredictable rules, touching Izuku but not allowing it the other way around. Like a tyrant or… or just a shitty bully.

Although his guts were churning from the fear of getting rejected Katsuki closed the gap between them, pulling the confused looking nerd into his arms.

“Course you are.”

That statement surprised himself. What was even more surprising was that he discovered that he actually meant it.

The seconds went by and Katsuki had intended this to be short hug, like some of their classmates did for a greeting. But it somehow ended up to be a long, tight embrace and although he knew he was being childish Katsuki thought: Suck it, bird brain!

“I’m bad with words”, he mumbled after a while, “Sorry.”

Izuku shook his head lightly, his locks brushing against Katsuki’s cheek.

“I disagree”, Izuku said, “But even more important – does everybody need to be good with words?”

Katsuki made a surprised sound at that thought.

“Well, it sure makes shit easier”, he said.

Izuku thought about it for a while and finally said: “I think clarifying one’s needs and desires do. Make shit easier, that is.”

Katsuki chuckled at that.

“But being good with words, wearing one’s heart on one’s sleeve – it’s like being good at sports rather than drawing or having a nice voice instead of being a passionate dancer. People just differ in that kind of things”, Katsuki could hear the smile in Izuku’s voice, “At least that’s what I think.”

Katsuki couldn’t respond to that.

He didn’t trust his voice.

He had never seen it that way. He had always feared he was missing something, lacking a fundamental skill. But Izuku didn’t. He thought of it as simply one of many characteristics.

And even if Katsuki knew that he needed to work on his communication nonetheless, he was kind of moved. Maybe – with that point of view – he wasn’t that far behind after all.

For the first time since their mission in Otheon Katsuki could feel himself fully relax.

He wasn’t sure how long they would have stayed like that, leaning against each other. But they jumped away from each other when a howling sound filled the dorm.

“The fire alarms!”, Izuku screamed over the siren, blocking his ears.

Katsuki starting cursing when he realized he had forgotten his food in the oven. It must have turned into ashes by now.

He just hoped his mother would never find out about it or she would never let go of the fact that he was taking after her.

[yumihoe]

Title - Mother Knows best.

Fandom- My Hero academia

Paring: Mother! Momo Yaoyorozu x Daughter! Reader

Genre - Smut

Wordcount-1,288

Summary: Let Momo Provide for you after all she's been doing It your whole life.

Content Warnings - Incest, Noncon, Drugging, Predatory Behavior, use of the word "Cunny". MDNI

Momo yaoyorozu is by no means a bad mother.

She has provided for you, given you everything you have ever wanted for in life; a clean nice home. The best possible foundation for your future. In fact, She's made it her own personal mission to be the driving force in all of your success.

When you were six it had been softball, You came to her begging To play, Telling her that you wanted to go pro one day. She made sure to get you a top-of-the-line personal trainer and Only the best grade Equipment.

When you turned eight- your dreams of softball long forgotten- you had come to her stating that you wanted to be a great hero like your mother. Her heart had swelled with pride and she took it upon herself to make sure you were on the right path. A tutor for Fighting Techniques, Pre-mech designing for a possible hero suit to accommodate your blooming quirk, even going as far as to let you accompany her during her hero services. You had watched her in aw, little mouth agape and eyes akin to saucers as Momo took down Low-grade villains executing a robbery.

When the villains had been subdued you had run-up to her and threw your small arms around her waist, burying your chubby face in her stomach " You're the best Mommy"! you had squealed.

Momo Wonders If you still think she's the best now.

The small, still logical voice told her that she was disgusting. Taking advantage of you like this,

But what had she done besides what you needed her to do?

You had come to her, as you had many times before in your life asking for her guidance...Her help.

Help with alieving Sexual frustration.

Of course, she was taken back at first, this particular request had made her drop her soba onto the kitchen floor and her eyes widen.

But she recovered quickly. You were a grown woman. And she understood that your almost adorable lack of sexual knowledge was partially her fault, as she had always made sure to keep you on a straight path your entire life, a path that had no detours for lovers or sex or dating.

She had agreed to help you, why wouldn't she. There was nothing strange about a Mother teaching her daughter how to get take care of sexual urges. It was simply a part of life she had forgotten to guide you through and was revisiting to ensure your success in.

And that's what she reminded herself as you squirmed under her.

You had been so needy.

Such a beautiful, quaking mess.

The constant hum of the vibrator she had pressed against your clit was the only sound in your bedroom besides the sweet sounds you would occasionally let out as she built you up to your first orgasm. You had came so beautifully for her and it was an image that had stayed so vividly in her mind well after she left your room.

In the following days after educating you, Momo finds herself struggling to suppress whatever feeling that had bubbled up to the surface.

Her senses had seemed to heighten, her perception of you changing. When had you become so ...Womanly.

Your mother found herself noticing things about you she had been oblivious to before. The swell of your breast in t-shirts. The way your ass looked as you bent over to pick something up. How your yawning face was so, so very similar to the delicious Oh face you make when you climax.

You were a drug. One Momo found herself being deprived of.

she tries to cherish soft moments with you, from before she started seeing you in such a disgusting light. Yet still, even when you have the purest intentions momos mind can only seem to distort the image into something forbidden.

when you offer to take her on a girl's day to the beach to celebrate Mother's days, Momo can only find herself wishing that the waves would crash against you so hard your bikini top flies off and she might be able to catch a glimpse of your perfect tits.

When you inform her that you've finally found a decent apartment and would be moving out soon she's devastated. Not because you won't be there to keep her company but because she won't be able to sneak into your room and pocket your dirty panties if you anymore.

You had smiled at her, so proud that you were finally going to really start your life, go out on your own. But Momo was determined to make sure you stayed.

"You'll be glad to get me out of the house " You laughed taping up yet another box.

Momo feels anything but.

She knows she should be helping you pack, helping with the moving process. Supporting you through this part of your life as a good mother should. yet she can only find herself finding ways to keep you with her longer.

She makes up excuse after excuse as to why she needs you to stay in the house with her, but your mind is made up. You seem to sum up her franticness to get you to stay to empty nesters syndrome.

" I'll make sure I visit, " You reassure her.

But Momo doesn't care about you visiting as much as you can, she wants you to stay with her.

Momo Realizes that you'll leave her and rarely visit. Unless she does something.

For a moment she had thought of Blacklisting you from the apartment complex you were set to move into. But she decides against it. It would be a temporary fix at most, you'd eventually find another place sooner or later and she'd end up back to square one. Momo finds her solution in her status.

Being a hero afforded her access to any substance for an array of problems. When she was early in her hero days her free access to pills had come in handy for cheap highs and party activities, and as she got older it had allowed her the ability to receive top grade painkillers to aid in the damage hero work had done to her bodies over the years.

Now, she would use it as means to make sure you stay exactly where she needed you to be.

It hadn't been hard to get her hands on gamma-hydroxybutyric acid. The date rape drug.

Momo made sure to be as unassuming as possible. Instead of making excuses to prolong your stay, she pretended to welcome the change. Went furniture and decoration shopping, even proposed she cook you your favorite meal for your last night in the house.

For a second, Momo almost has a moment of clarity as she watches you bring your lips to the glass of wine she made with your food. clarity that tells her she's a sick fuck, that this is wrong -that she's a bad mother.

Yet with the way, you were so manageable in your intoxicated state, so easy to stuff into the backseat of her car, to drive out to her house in the hills.

You stay that way even as Momo begins tying you down to the guest bed, spread eagle. Only beginning to flutter awake as she fastens the last tie around your ankle.

Your struggling now, tears streaming down your pretty face as you beg around the gag she put into your mouth.

Momo yaoyorozu is by no means a bad mother.

All she has ever done is make sure that you have had the best possible chances for success in life.

And even now as she climbs between your legs, giving your sweet cunny a small kitten lick, she's certain that she will be able to take care of you.

Whether you want her to or not.

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

Some of you guys have raging mommy kinks.

It's me. I'm some of you guys.

Anyways if you liked it feel free to reblog I don't mind!

[bakugohoex]

can you please write a fic where youre aizawas' wife and you're pregnant with twins, and while he's in the middle of teaching at UA you go into labor and you call him, and he leaves in the middle of their class, (the class dosen't know he's married and obviously dosen't know he's about to become a father) and the class thinks that something's seriously wrong because they saw panic on his face for a slight second when he got the call, so they end up following him to the hospital only to see him sniling and holding two newborn babies that look just like him and the woman who is on the hospital bed (you) and theyre in shock when they find out that you're his wife and those are his kids, but what shocks them most is the big smile on his face when he was holding his babies 🥺 idk i thought it would be cute

“did he steal two babies?”

pairing: shouta aizawa x female reader

cw: language, fluff

word count: 3000+

a/n: i live for domestic one shots, i might write some more depending on how i’m feeling, hope you guys like this have a happy new years eve people, the stupid tags arent working so if you could reblog it it would mean a lot 

summary: in which you’re aizawa’s secret wife, aizawa gets a call in the middle of class that you’re going into labor and eventually leaves, the class being noisy pricks follows him to a hospital, feeling worried they continue to follow until they see him holding two babies with a smile at his new family

↞ back to my hero academia masterlist

Eight months, eight full fucking months of carrying Aizawa’s little spawns. Having spent your last term of pregnancy on bed rest, it had been the worst term ever, you would rather have taken the puking up last nights dinner then staying in bed. Even Aizawa had gotten annoyed with how frustrated you had got, you craved how he could get up and leave for work. You hadn’t gone into work since your maternity leave started and you were annoyed, being a pro hero it had been worse.

As soon as you told the agency you were pregnant, you were desk bound, unable to go on patrols. It was fucking annoying and you hated every second of it, and all Aizawa could do was smirk at your frustration. “I’m due any day now, just leave work and stay with me.” You plead grabbing the material from his neck, you wanted him to hold you. You already felt gross staying in bed 24/7 but now you didn’t have your husband beside you 24/7.

“Kitten, this is my last day, I’ll spend the rest of the pregnancy with you.” You were grouchy letting go of him and turning your head to face away for him. “Y/n.”

He tried to gain your attention but ignored him, “you should’ve gotten pregnant as well you’d understand.”

He raised an eyebrow, shaking his head as he crept his arms around your body, his hand resting on the baby bump. You shuffled closer to his body, before turning your head to see him softly rubbing back and forth across the bump.

“Be patient, my love.” It was a whisper which brought you comfort.

“If you’re not home by 4pm then I’m locking you out of the house.” You threaten.

He looks down at you with your fiery eyes, “sure you are.” He kisses the top of your head; you pout wanting a proper kiss. He looks at how perfect you looked with his babies, when you both found out you were having twins, the small apartment you had called home since dating. Had gone and a house in the country close enough to UA and still for you to do pro hero work was where the both of you had situated.

Your relationship have been very secretive, a small wedding ceremony which had been perfect with your family and friends. Of course people had noticed you had gone MIA but one day you’d come out and tell the world how you and Aizawa were an inseparable family.

He moved to capture your lips, grabbing his face you wanted to just drag him back to bed. But he quickly moved out of your grip, “patience Y/n.”

“Shouta.” You whine like a child would.

“Seems like ill be raising three babies now.” He mocked putting the scarf around his yellow goggles.

“I hope you break your goggles.” You huff again, he doesn’t speak only kissing your temple after the small peck he had given to your lips.

He starts to walk out the bedroom, your wedding photo situated on the cabinet. You were perfect back then and now with his kids inside of you, you became somehow even more perfect. He had never thought that the woman he had met all those years ago, who had showed of her quirk to the whole world would be the one he fell in love with.

He looked back at you, you were grumpy due to hormones but once the babies were out you knew you’d go back to being yourself (and both of you could fuck properly, but that was just a bonus.)

“Make sure to walk around the house.” He warns.

It was your turn to raise an eyebrow, “and what if I don’t, will you come home early?” Your extra clinginess melted his insides, he knew how bored your loud self was and being cooped up inside had took a toll on you.

“I’ll come home early.” The sound of your squeal lifted his spirits, it was adorable, and he loved how easily your mood changed. Your face was full, and you had something to look forward too as he left the room.

The day for Aizawa had been smooth sailing, having asked to leave at 2pm and being able to, he had been with the students whilst they were training. He could imagine teaching his kids everything to do with this world, he couldn’t wait for his own leave, to spend time with his future babies but also with his loving wife.

The sound of Bakugo shouting was something else he had gotten used to; how could a 16-year-old boy be louder than the babies he had heard on those stupid pregnancy videos you made him watch. You had shown him a woman giving birth and to say it was the weirdest thing he’s ever seen; he’d happily watch stuff go inside of you but the other way round was another issue.

He stood watching over them, they had gotten a lot stronger in the months and the events that had occurred. It was another reason for the secrecy, having to hide your relationship to prevent disaster from happening. He watched the time tick away; another two more hours and he could leave and spend the rest of the trimester with you.

The sound of running caught his ears, he looked up and saw Principle Nezu walking towards him. “Agh Aizawa, we got a call from your wife’s mother.”

He hadn’t checked his phone, but if your mother had been calling it must’ve been something serious, the class had noticed the principle and had gotten quiet even Bakugo who wanted to know why the principle was here.

“Finally, you answered, she’s going into labour.” He heard on the other liner, he was in shock, his phone dropping to the side.

“Sh…She what?” It was early, of course you both knew about early pregnancies but this he had just spoken you a couple hours ago and now here you were about to go into labour.

“In labour, her water broke whilst I came to see her.” He could hear you screaming on the other side, how you must’ve been in pain, he knew you had been dilated a couple days ago but this, this was sooner than he had expected.

Nezu got the hint that something had happened and so had the class, a flash of worry across Aizawa’s face. “We’ll send the students back to the dorms.” He was calm and Aizawa quickly rushed out of the gym, leaving nothing else to say. He needed to make it to the hospital as quick as he could, in an instant he called your mother.

“Is she okay?” He had ran outside going to his car to quickly rush to the hospital.

He heard screaming which he assumed was you, “she’s grouchy…”

Before he could hear the rest of what your mother said, he heard you shout, “if that’s my idiot of a husband tell him to get to the fucking hospital.” It was a wail and he regretted not taking the day off.

“Y/n.” Her mother scowled, “we’re at the hospital, I’ll text you the room.” Is all her mother said before hanging up. Aizawa was stressed to say the least but what he hadn’t seen through the chaos was class 1A following him.

The class had seen the worry and panic before he jolted out of the room, “you all are dismissed for the day.” Nezu spoke before leaving.

“What do you think happened?” Momo questioned worried.

“He seemed in a hurry; it was probably something important.” Kirishima retorted back.

The class watched him on the phone the question of ‘is she okay?’ being heard. “Who do you think he’s talking about?” Mina asked.

“Why do you lot care so much?” Bakugo angrily said pissed that training had been cut early.

“He’s our teacher, what if something bad happened Kacchan.” Midoriya answered but it just fuelled Bakugo’s anger.

“We should follow him.” Denki suggested. “It might be serious and if people need help, we can help.”

They nodded, all assuming it had something to do with hero work, seeing Aizawa in his car, they started to follow him on foot, “we should’ve taken one of the buses.” Bakugo scowled following.

“We cant drive.” Kirishima muttered back.

Bakugo huffed following them all on the long walk, it was easy enough to keep following due to the mass traffic occurring. Aizawa having got the room number, he didn’t care for his surroundings, his eyes fixated on the road.

He finally saw the sign for the hospital and breathed out hoping you hadn’t gotten into labour yet. “Why is he at a hospital?” Ururaka questioned, “do you think someone got hurt?”

“Maybe we should go back.” Momo said not wanting to intrude on something that could have no villainous intent.

“Shut up extra’s, we’re already here.” Bakugo muttered walking to the entrance, they all followed the angry boy who glared at the children coming out of that ward.

“When did you care about the injured?” Kirishima questioned the blond.

“I don’t, you dragged me with you so now we’re staying.” For one thing the boy was persistent.

Across the hospital, Aizawa had ran to the room and saw your eyes filled with fury, your mother holding your hand as he could see how much pain you were in. “Look what the cat dragged in.” You scowled in pain.

“You can take over now.” Is all her mother said, going outside and waiting. He took her place and in an instance your hands had grabbed his.

“You must be the husband, I’ll be helping your wife, can you wear these?” The doctor spoke passing the blue overall type to keep his clothes covered, Aizawa obliged still holding your hand. “Mrs Aizawa you’re about 9cm dilated once you get to 10cm I’m going to tell you to push, okay?”

You were breathless and felt dreary, it would’ve been fine if it wasn’t for the fact you were having twins. You knew you’d go through even more pain then normal and in that moment felt scared.

“Hey kitten, look at me, you’ll do amazing.” Aizawa tried to be encouraging but even he was scared for all three of you.

“It hurts.” You tried to hide the tears, but it mixed in with the sweat.

“I know kitten, but you can grab onto me as hard as you want.” He smiles moving the strands of hair away from your sweaty forehead.

“10cm’s.” One of the nurses spoke out, the doctor nodded before looking at the angry you and calm husband.

“Mrs Aizawa you need to start pushing.” The pain was excruciating, you tried to push your grip on Aizawa’s hands becoming tighter. It was the worst pain you’d gone through and you’d been stabbed before.

Aizawa gave words of encouragement but all you wanted to do was tell him to shut up, tears cascaded down your face whilst pushing. “I see a head.” The doctor spoke, “keep pushing.”

You pushed a long with what the nurses had told you, in time to make sure you weren’t just randomly pushing. Aizawa was the first to see it, first to see the baby come out, it was quiet before wailing out loud, it was his turn to cry. The baby being placed on your chest before the doctor continued, “one more push, let’s get the other one out.”

You felt the first baby on your ski grabbing your neck as you kept on pushing, “I don’t want too.” You cried out but seeing Aizawa and how he looked at the baby on your chest you knew you needed too.

“Come on kitten, one more push.” He spoke a loud, you suppresses the tears before feeling another hard push come and the head of another baby erupt out of you. The doctor but the second baby on your chest, both their crying having stopped.

They stayed on you, you let go of Aizawas hand as the doctor told him he could cut the umbilical cord, he happily obliged before looking at the two babies that you both had created. They were smaller then normal and there eyes were tightly shut clinging onto their new mother.

“We need to weigh and clean them.” The doctor spoke as two nurses took the babies ready to put tags on them, the oldest had been a boy and the youngest a girl. You missed there touch and hold wanting to hold them again but watching them being taken out.

“We did it.” You spoke sleepily as you felt yourself being cleaned up and ready to be moved into another room.

“Yeah, we did.” Aizawa spoke going in to kiss your temple, “we’re parents.”

Tears brimmed his eyes; this normal dry flat facial features had become happier and all he could think about was how you looked with his two children. How he had gotten a family that he had never expected to have had.

Being moved to a different room, Aizawa followed sitting on the chair beside you. You saw the two babies come back to you both, in an instance they were placed back into your arms. “You can hold them?”

You had seen Aizawa’s hesitance to even touch the babies, but he knew how to do it and with ease they both were situated in his arms. You could hear your mother outside, she seemed to be talking to some people, but you ignored it watching at how Aizawa’s eyes welled up at the two babies.

“Where are my grandchildren?” Your mother spoke a loud before having heart eyes at how Aizawa was holding your babies.

“Mum, please be quieter.”

“Hey, I had to handle your screams, let me be happy, they look adorable with their father.” She spoke moving to the bed.

“They really do.” You both watched him look at the two children, a tear falling from his face.

Your mother turned back to you and she smiled at you, “I’m proud of you.” You give a nod holding her hand before she speaks, “have you two got any na…”

Before she could continue you hear the door open with the doctor coming in, “it seems you two have more visitors.”

You were both confused on the matter, nobody really knew you had gone into pregnancy except your parents and his and your father was still at work whilst his parents were out of town. It was unexpected but your eyes widen when you see the group of 16-year olds.

“They were wondering around the hospital.” The doctor speaks, Aizawa hadn’t noticed his students, but you and your mother had.

The kids were in shock at seeing a pro hero in a hospital bed but there eyes went to Aizawa’s he had been looking at his babies, unaware of his surroundings.

Nobody spoke instead just watching Aizawa interact with the two new-born babies, a smile placed on his normal flat self. “Did he steal two babies?” You hear one of them whisper, you instantly begin to speak after that.

“Shouta.” You whisper.

“Yeah.” He was so out of dazed but once he turns to face them all, he’s in shock as well.

“I’ll leave you to handle this.” Your mother leaves not wanting to have to explain this scenario.

Aizawa was still in shock, you reach out for one of the babies, he passes you the youngest, who starts to grab at your fingers. He sits holding the boy, before the class start cascading you both in questions.

“Are they yours?”, “How do you know Pro Hero Y/n?”, “Who is she to you?”

Aizawa looks at them and then at his family, you nod a sign that he could tell them everything, “This is my wife, and these are our new kids.”

It was a simple but effective, the class in shock that there homeroom teacher who seemed to be detached had you the loving pro hero as a wife, but even more now had two kids.

“Congratulations.” They all spoke a loud. It was rehearsed and you could tell that it all came out due to shock.

“What are you doing here anyway, I thought we said go back to the dorms.” Aizawa scowled.

“Baby, it’s fine, it’s good they found out anyway, since you wont be teaching them for a bit.” You calmed the man down.

He shakes his head at how easily you calmed him down, “you’re an amazing pro hero.” Midoriya spoke a loud, you thanked him before they didn’t know what else to say.

“I’ll go call Nezu, he can get you back to UA.” Aizawa muttered handing you the other child as he left the room.

“You married Aizawa.” Mina spoke a loud everybody looked at her, “what? We were all thinking it?”

You laugh looking at them all, “yes I did.”

“And you slept with him.” Mina continued with ever more eyes growing wider.

You continued to laugh, “that is how I got pregnant.”

“What are their names?” Ururaka asked coming towards the two kids.

You sat upright, letting them have a closer look, they all came forward even Bakugo who saw children as devils spawn. They were fresh out and anew, so pure and innocent as they tugged onto your hair.

“We haven’t decided yet.” You said looking at the two kids, you notice Aizawa at the door looking at the class as they surrounded you and the babies. The way they were quieter than they had ever been around two new-borns, they spent time asking questions and looking at the two babies. Before being dragged back to UA, all smiling happily at having spent the afternoon with two new-borns.

“They look like you.” You mutter sleepily, the two babies being put to sleep on the other sides of the room. “We made them.”

“I love you.” He whispers kissing you softly, you kiss back, happily at the new family you had and Aizawa finally realised what his happiness was. You and your two babies were all he ever needed now.

i’d really appreciate if you guys could leave a like, reblog or comment, thanks x

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[intheticklecloset]

I’m Not Asking (My Hero Academia)

Primary Universe

I decided to go a different route than the tickling in public thing, since that particular irritation of his comes up often enough in other fics. Instead I chose to go with something a little different: pushing past boundaries. There’s not a lot of actual tickling in this one, but I like the story and there’s some good character growth that I think is important. Hopefully you’ll like it all the same! Enjoy!

6. “You want me to tickle you that bad?”

26. “Just tickle me already!”

Warning: ignored boundaries, slight angst

~

Bakugou was tired of being afraid.

Really, that’s all it was. It wasn’t that he missed being tickled by the idiots who followed him around everywhere. Of course not. Definitely not. But he was sick and tired of being on edge around them, constantly thinking about it whether he wanted to or not.

It had all started weeks ago, one evening in Sero’s room while the two of them – plus Mina and Denki – had been studying for an upcoming test. As it often did nowadays, their studying had become a tickle fight, during which Bakugou was waylaid by all three of them at once and tickled until he was begging them to stop…and beyond.

That’s where the problem had originated. Kiri wasn’t there to put an end to their antics, so the three of them had gotten carried away with their tickling, torturing him so much and for so long he actually became afraid they’d never let him go, no matter how much he screamed and pleaded. Thankfully Kirishima had finally made it to Sero’s room, taken one look at Bakugou’s state, and hurriedly put an end to it all.

Since then he hadn’t been overly inclined to hang out with any of them, save for the redhead who’d gotten him out of that mess. In the week following he’d kept to himself and left the room when they entered, ignoring their texts and knocks on his door. At one point Kiri managed to convince him the others wouldn’t randomly tickle him if he started hanging out again, so he’d begrudgingly begun to do so.

Now, weeks later, Bakugou was tired of it all.

He hated to admit that he’d legitimately been terrified in the moment – afraid they’d tickle him until he passed out, despite the fact that he’d been yelling for them to stop over and over. But he had been terrified, and that fear – whether he liked it or not – had followed him into their everyday interactions. Though he was hanging out with them again, he made sure to never sit too close, never wear exposing clothing around them, never say something that might set them off.

But he was sick of that fear. He wanted everything to go back to normal, even if that meant allowing them to reduce him to a puddle of giggles once again.

So, gradually, he started wearing cutoff shirts again, going barefoot around them, and being as mouthy as he always was. He figured his obvious reversion back to the way he’d been before would be enough for them to go back to how they were before. But – to his surprise and confusion – it wasn’t. He even went so far as to start actively trying to provoke them into poking him, pinching a side, attacking his sweet spot, anything. But there was no reaction from the crew. None whatsoever. They acted as though tickling never existed.

Bakugou hated that even more.

Finally, one night, he stormed into Kirishima’s dorm room. “What’s the matter with you all?”

Kiri startled, pulling off his headphones and looking up at him, bewildered. “What?”

“It’s like you’re all blind. I’m being as obvious as I can. What more do you want from me?”

There was a pause. Kiri slowly put his headphones on his desk and stood up. “Bakugou,” he said seriously, gently, “remember how upset I was when you weren’t picking up on the clear signs that I wanted you to tickle me? Do you remember that I finally had to say something to you directly to get you to understand that?”

Bakugou growled. “But you see the signs. You get it! Why not just tell them?”

“I know you may not understand this, since you’ve been distancing yourself from them for a while now,” Kiri continued, “but they’re just as traumatized as you are.”

“I am not traumatized.”

“Katsuki.”

The use of his first name gave the blonde pause. He let out a frustrated sigh and crossed his arms. “Yeah, so it freaked me out. But who cares? I’m over it now; can’t you guys see that?”

“They care. I care. All of us care. Bakugou, we just don’t want to scare you like that again. We don’t want to tickle you again until you’re comfortable with it.”

“Again – I’m being as obvious as I can.”

“But you’re not communicating with words.”

“Actions speak louder.”

Kirishima smiled sadly at him and shook his head. “Sorry, but this is one time you’ll have to actually talk to us.”

Bakugou glared. “You want me to ask for it?”

“That’s the only way we’ll know for sure that it’s okay.”

“Forget it.” The blonde turned on his heel and yanked open the door. “I’m not desperate like you were. I don’t even miss it. I don’t like being tickled anyway. Better for me!” Then he slammed it shut behind him and stormed right back to his own room, slamming that door, too.

Yet another thing Bakugou hated: he did miss it. For some stupid reason he couldn’t put his finger on, the thought of his friends never tickling him again actually bothered him. He couldn’t stand the thought of never being forced to chill out or cheer up, to laugh it all away without a care in the world.

They wanted him to ask? Yeah, right. It was like they didn’t know him at all.

A couple of nights later, Bakugou wandered around the dorms, looking for them. He figured they had to be together somewhere, since Denki had mentioned something about studying earlier. He looked all over the common areas and public gathering spots but came up empty. Finally, with a growl, he pulled out his phone.

Bakugou: Where are you all?

Kirishima: Sero’s room. Science. You in?

Sero’s room. The place it all began. Bakugou pocketed his phone and made his way to the dorm in question, lifting his hand to knock and then pausing. If I do this, there’s no taking it back, he thought, frowning. They’ll know I missed it. They’re idiots, but they’re not that stupid. He took a breath, let it out in a huff, and knocked. Screw it. They’ve already seen me at my weakest. I have nothing to lose.

Kirishima called to him from inside, and with that invitation, Bakugou swung open the door, closed it behind him, and announced, “Listen up, morons. I’m only going to say this once. What you did was awful and scary and I never want to go through it again, but I’m sick and tired of being on edge around you all the time. I want things to go back to the way they were before all this nonsense started, so just tickle me already, dang it!”

The room went dead silent.

Bakugou glared at the floor, waiting. He could feel the others looking at each other, trying to work out to say. It was driving him crazy, but he was determined not to beg them for it, so he stayed right where he was.

Finally, after a long minute, Mina spoke. “Bakugou…are you sure?”

The blonde stayed silent.

Sero spoke next. “We never had a chance to tell you properly, but we’re really sorry for what we did. We should have listened when you told us to stop. We should have respected your boundaries.”

The blonde pressed his lips together, not saying a word.

Next was Kaminari. “We talked about it, and we promised ourselves – and you by extension – that we wouldn’t tickle you again until you said you were comfortable with it. And we want you to think of a safe word, so we don’t accidentally go too far again.”

At this, Bakugou looked up. “A safe word? The heck?”

“Todoroki and I use one,” Kiri offered. “That way I can beg as much as I want to without him stopping, but as soon as I say the word he’ll stop. And vice versa, of course.”

Bakugou stared at the redhead. “You guys use a safe word? Seriously? What is it, ‘manly’?”

Kiri shot him a smirk. “That’s for us to know, I’m afraid. You’ll have to think of your own.”

The room went silent again as Bakugou looked away, silently contemplating how to go about getting them to tickle him again without actually asking for it. No way was he going to ask.

“Fine, whatever,” he said at last, stepping further into the room. “I’m giving you permission, morons. Don’t waste it. And I don’t give a crap what the safe word is. It can be ‘homework’ for all I care.”

“Ah-ah, can’t have that one,” Kiri said teasingly. “It’s taken.”

“Seriously? That’s what you went with?”

Mina hummed. “How about…red? It’s a classic stoplight scenario. Green for go, yellow for slow down, red for stop.” She and the others looked at Bakugou expectantly.

He nodded. “Yeah, fine. Red means stop. Like, seriously, stop.”

The others nodded as well. “Got it.”

Another silence fell; an awkward one this time. Kiri, Mina, and the others all looked at each other, then up at Bakugou’s looming form.

“Uh, so,” Denki asked, “did you want us to tickle you now?”

Bakugou grunted. “Well, it would be kind of stupid if you didn’t after getting all sentimental about it.”

Kiri stood up and approached him, grinning. For a moment Bakugou tensed and almost changed his mind, but then his friend took him by the shoulders and said, “Give us the magic word.”

“What? Green?” Bakugou frowned, then growled when it hit him what Kirishima meant. “You cannot be serious.”

“We’re completely serious. We said we wouldn’t until you asked. So if you want it, ask us.”

Bakugou grumbled under his breath, glanced his friends waiting hopefully for him on the floor, then at Kirishima’s beaming face, and finally – just this once – he caved.

“…please.”

Kiri chuckled. “Aww, you want us to tickle you that bad?”

“Do not start with me, you little – hey!” Bakugou threw his hands up to protect himself as he catapulted to the floor, tossed by Kiri’s strength directly into the waiting arms of the rest of their friends. No sooner had he landed than he felt fingers wiggling in his sides, stomach, and ribs, making him giggle involuntarily and curl up defensively. “Hehehehehehehey! Gahk! Pfft-wahahahait, wait, stahahahahahahap!”

“Say red if you mean it,” Mina teased, though her touch lightened slightly. “That’s why we wanted you to have a safe word, since you tell us to stop so much.”

“Agh! Wehehehehell I hahahahven’t said it yet, have I?” Bakugou shot back, squealing when someone brushed over his sweet spot. He blushed but refused to cover his face.

“Aww, he really does want us to tickle him!”

“Shuhuhuhuhuhut up, Pihihihinky! NO!!” Suddenly he began thrashing, feeling a jolt of both panic and excitement when someone else – presumably Sero – pulled his arms above his head and sat on them, pinning him down and exposing his worst spots all at once. Denki and Mina sat on either side of him, scribbling and tickling his sides, stomach, and ribs, while Sero reached over him to scratch at his underarms and Kirishima grabbed at his thighs, grinning like a gremlin. “Frick – no! At leheheheheast ehehehehehease me into it, ihihihihidiots!”

“But we’ve missed tickling you so much,” Mina cooed.

“And we have a lot of time to make up for,” Sero said.

“So you’d better get comfortable,” Denki teased, “because until you say ‘red,’ you’re going to be here for a while.”

All at once Bakugou was back at the moment that started this chain of events, pinned helplessly to the floor as his friends tickled him until he was screaming and laughing and begging for mercy. The difference now was that Kirishima was here, and all of them were being careful, and he had a way to get out of it this time.

If he really wanted to.

[crossroadsfossil]

Closure is not redemption

Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia

Characters: Chisaki Kai, Eri, Mention of Eri's parentals Mentions of other characters, Cameo of my favorites in the bg

Wc: 1994

Tags: Post-Canon eri is only here to get a few questions answered, and maybe solve one of her own problems, Implied Mpreg, pregnancy

Ao3 link:

Summary:

Chisaki gets an unexpected visitor while serving his time.

_____________________________________

There was only one person who consistently visited him, so he wasn’t able to immediately place the young woman who took a seat on the other side of the clear partition. Usually, the person on the other side of the glass was the green-haired brat, Deku. Despite heroics no longer being a valid career, he seemed to think it was his job to save people. Like clockwork, he would come and talk to Kai, no matter how little he wanted to see the brat.

He should have realized sooner who the young woman was, and once he did, it was an exercise in comparisons.

Tall, where she was once short. Hair short where it was once long. The only thing that stayed the same was the color of her eyes and her hair, which she had cut into a short, layered bob. It was one of the styles that was fashionable this season; several of the guards wore something similar.

Before and After.

Then and Now.

The old terrors and fresh fears.

Old disgust with the new.

They stared at each other, Kai taking in her adult visage, and her… looking for something as the minutes ticked by. He wasn’t sure why she was here. They had nothing to discuss. Even when that Deku brat showed up, he instigated the entire conversation, something it seemed she was ill-inclined to do. Besides, he had little to discuss. He’d been in prison for a long time and had many more years left on his sentence, even with his good behavior. Nothing he does or says will reduce that time any further, and he’s too tired to pick fights with visitors anymore.

It’s five minutes until visitation is over when she finally gathers the courage to do something. She takes a deep breath, looking him in the eyes.

“H-hello.” She stated. There’s the barest hint of a tremor in her voice. He tilted his head in response, his brows rising. Her mouth twitched into a rather severe-looking frown. She waited for him to reply. When he doesn’t, she sighs, shoulders slumping slightly.

“You’re probably wondering why I’m here…”

His gaze dropped down to her folded hands. They were resting on the small ledge that acts as a counter on the visitor’s side and are turning pale with how hard she’s clenching them. Her voice wasn’t the only thing with a faint tremor in it, either. It’s faint, like the barely-there quiver of a leaf in a ghost-like breeze, but it’s still there.

She’s still terrified of him, and part of him is glad for it.

She follows his eyes down. Her frown deepened as she tucked her hands under the counter and presumably on her lap, hiding them from view.

Well then.

“I don’t particularly care.” Kai stated, leaning back in his chair. “Is this prescribed therapy for you? Did some well-meaning counselor suggest you get closure? Or are you here to bask in the fact that I’m still here and will be for many long years?”

She immediately shook her head back, almost violently in her desire to refute his suggestions. Her mouth is opened to verbally do the same when she’s cut off by a guard stepping further into the room with a polite, forced cough. It does the trick and pulls their attention towards the guard.

“Ma’am. Time is up.”

Her hair was styled differently when she next visited him. He wasn’t expecting her to come back at all, let alone so soon after her previous visit.

_____________________________________

_____________________________________

Here she was though, sitting on the other side of the partition. Her bobbed hair was slicked back and a pen was tucked behind an ear as if she had forgotten about it. Judging by the circles under her eyes and the way her hair seemed more dirty and greasy rather than styled indicated she probably had.

“Hello.” She greeted softly as he sat down. Her eyes flicked to his ‘hands’ as he sat, and she winced.

“Here for more closure?” He jabbed in lieu of a greeting. He expected a frown, but instead, she simply shook her head at him again.

“No… I wanted to… talk to you… about…” She stopped, wavering on her words. It seemed that habit hadn’t completely left her. She hovered over her potential words long enough for his attention to shift to one of the other groups in the room.

There was a white-haired man with faint scars who looked vaguely familiar. He was talking to, if he wasn’t mistaken, a former pro-hero with wings. The conversation looked heated, but not confrontational. A rarity in the prison. He was on the verge of understanding what they were talking about (it sounded either like someone’s love life or a rom-com) when there was a dull slap against the partition in front of him.

Eri glared at him, pushing the papers further up the glass.

“I took a DNA test.”

He didn’t bother looking at the paperwork.

“So you did.” He stated calmly.

“Was everything a lie?” She asked. She looked angry with him. Almost. He’d never seen her look angry before. Not at him.

“No. Your ‘mother’ did disown you. You had the ill-luck that your adopted mother did so too.” He paused, thinking back, “And you were the reason your fathers disappeared.” Nothing he told her was technically a lie. It wasn’t even really a half-truth.

“Why?” She asked. Her irritation seemed to vanish as quickly as it arrived, replaced with a sad confusion. She slowly pulled the papers away from the glass. “And how?”

“Why… what?” He asked, “Why do you exist? The same reason a lot of brats do. Accidents happen. And what do you mean how? I’m sure you’re well aware of how infants are-”

“How did I end up with you then? If you threw me away?”

Kai shrugged. He never asked the Boss too many questions. When he was younger, he was sure it was the Boss’s way of teaching him, or trying to encourage him to be different. Now, he wasn’t so sure. He wasn’t even sure if the Boss had been aware of the relationship until after he’d placed Eri back into his care. Then again, the first time the Boss had seen her, she looked quite different from the four-year-old Kai later received.

“Boss was trying to help the both of us. It’s his fault, really.”

Neither of them said anything further. Even as the guard came to escort him back to his cell and her to the gate of the prison, they were silent.

The seasons changed before she made another visit. It was starting to get cold and she arrived wearing a sweater that looked hand-made. It didn’t stop her from pulling on a fraying string along the cuff, rolling it back and forth until it tangled into a knotted ball and the tension caused it to snap. She dropped the thread and began the process anew.

_____________________________________

_____________________________________

“Did you- do you have any fond memories?”

The temptation to lie was strong. He owed her nothing and frankly, he was ready for these visits to be done and over with. However, if there was one thing she learned from her rescuer, it was stubborn determination. If her still present terror and his standoffish behavior hadn’t put her off now, he doubted anything would.

Perhaps it was time to try a different tack.

“There were a few. “ He admitted. Eri’s surprise was almost comical. “As far as gestation went, you were fairly mild. Quiet. Barely showed. Didn’t know you were there, except at three-thirty in the morning.”

“Wh-what happened then?”

He offered her a small, rigid smile. “For some unholy reason, I was quite convinced you hated me, you could not let me sleep through the night. The only time you ever kicked was that singular time in the morning. You would keep at it until I either ate something with blue cheese in it, or on bad nights, I sang that god-forsaken song.”

Her eyes widened, comically so and her mouth slacked in surprise.

“It was some pop song. I barely remember it now. It played all the time on the radio, especially that dj-hero’s station. I hated it, but it was better than eating…cheese.” He scowled at the thought. Specifically, moldy cheese. How he managed to consume such things was beyond comprehension. “I was sure you were trying to turn my kidneys and bladder to a pulped mess, but as soon as I’d start humming, you’d fall back asleep, or at the very least, kick softer. And in time with the music.”

He stopped, closing his eyes and remembering the soft pops he would feel against his hand. The way it awed and disgusted him at the same time. The panic it would send through him, sometimes spiraling into one of those episodes he abhorred.

“Sometimes it felt like you were trying to ask for it one more time. It was a pair of soft taps that were hard to feel. If I did sing, you would definitely fall asleep before I finished it.”

She was in a sweater again, but there was a white coat on top of it. She looked better rested than she had since that second visit.

_____________________________________

_____________________________________

“You finally get sleep?” He asked. She nodded, not looking at him.

“I have a night shift at the hospital after this visit.”

“I see. So, you’re a nurse?”

She bristled, glaring at him with more hatred than he had ever seen her level at him before. A touchy subject, perhaps?

“Doctor. Dr. Imaizumi.”

“Married? Congratulations, I suppose.”

“Yes, but… I didn’t take their name. We decided on a new one.”

Time certainly did fly.

Little Eri had married and gotten a doctorate.

He was getting old.

“Either way, congratulations on the… marital bliss I suppose.” He said blandly, “Is there anything you wanted to ask on this visit?”

“Yes, I-” She stopped, looking uneasy. A few minutes passed with her undoubtedly arguing with herself before she shook her head. “Did I always have white hair or was that because of what you did?”

That caught him off guard, and he took a moment to think back. It was… quite a bit of time ago, and he didn’t really care too much to begin with…

Ah, he remembered. One of the final reasons he decided to discard her, to realize that a child was too much work.

“You were born with brown hair.” He hummed, remembering the wisps of brown that covered the head of the small, bloody whimpering child. The bile that surged as he saw the hair coming loose under the water. He wrinkled his nose at the memory. “ A week later it all fell out in the bath and started growing in thick and pale.”

“I have one last question.”

_____________________________________

_____________________________________

“For today?”

“For… forever, I suppose. This is my last visit.”

He hummed, waiting on her question. She glanced at him, red eyes bright and shining. The rest of her face was steadily turning a vibrant scarlet, even as she proceeded to look more and more ill.

“What did you eat when the morning sickness got bad?”

For a minute, he sat, staring at her like she’d grown a second head, wondering why this information was fascinating to her.

“Not food. I resorted to drinking-…”

The answer slammed into him like a truck, throwing him into a state of sympathetic nausea. He took a closer look at her, at the way the sweater clung to her, on fatigue under her eyes, on the way she looked ready to be ill-

Well Damn.

He was getting old.

_____________________________________

_____________________________________

_____________________________________

An:

Misc thoughts:

Deku makes monthly visits to all the villains he defeated, trying to coax them into changing. Some he’s more effective with than others, but he hasn’t given up so far. He has a good rapport with the guards.

Eri is a doctor, although I’m not sure what her specialty is. It’s something in the hospital though.

I HC that she married Kota because I think it’s cute. Deku may have had a heart attack when he heard.

They took a water-themed last name to honor Kota’s parents. Neither wanted to keep the last name due to history associated with it. Also she didn’t really have a last name at the time and they wanted a fresh start.

Your call on if this is a verse where Kai is FtM, A/B/O, or if he decided to experiment as a teenager.

[dabisburntsack]

False Alarm

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Pairing(s): Shigaraki Tomura x GN!Reader

Genre: Fluff !

Synopsis: When your long time gaming partner brings up the topic of May Day you can’t help but romanticise the olden holiday with your ever growing crush on him.

Wordcount: 1784

This is apart of a sfw flower collab done with the bnharem discord server! I loved the prompt for this collab and can’t wait to see how everyones fics turned out!! Special thanks to @pluviophile-imagines for helping my ass through this as I had a mental breakdown٩( ᐛ )و

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

⇾  signifies texting

May Day was a traditional holiday, one you wouldn’t have really heard of had your long time online gaming partner not brought it up in discussion as you fought against him to bring down the zombies on your screen.

“Yeah you pretty much leave a basket full of flowers with different meanings to them hanging on a loved ones door”

“I would have never pegged you for the romantic type” You replied amused.

“I’m- well, I’m... I would never do it-”

“You wouldn’t?”

“Pffft no, of course not”

“Shame, I think it's really romantic!”

The line went quiet, the only audible sound being the cock of guns and explosions going off in the game. You readjusted your mic wondering if he’d cut off when his voice came again; though quieter than the usual responses you would get.

“You think?”

“Yeah! Come onnn, tell me that isn’t the cutest thing ever”

The line paused again for the briefest moment, but when he finally continued speaking the conversation switched back to gameplay as if the short discussion about May Day had never occured. You shrugged and went back to chatting aimlessly about zombies yourself, though a small part of you may have wanted to carry on with the romance talk.

You had known the player ‘Decay_God’ for going on 3 years now and were as close as online friends could be. From what you’d gathered over the years, Tenko worked at a bar and had a shit ton of roommates. Though he constantly went on about how annoying they were, you could tell he cared deeply for them. He was passionate about what he did, whether it be his job (you didn’t know what exactly it was, just that his mood in your games would be whether or not he had received good news from his end) or his game play.

In the beginning, you didn’t really like him or his attitude; both being highly ranked in the gaming community you would constantly butt heads and his childish behaviour of when you would steal a victory off him annoyed you to no end. But as it went on, his temper tantrums died down and once you got to know him, you found his quips and wit to be quite entertaining. Now two years later, you would look forward to getting home from a stressful day at work to endlessly chatter about whatever topic was of the day.

You couldn’t lie, you had garnered a bit of a crush on him.

You didn’t even know what this man looked like. He could be a catfish! An old perverted dude! Hell he could even be a criminal and you’d be none the wiser! Although, if you were being honest with yourself… you couldn’t help but make the obvious connection to a certain infamous villain. One that happened to have pale blue hair and a decaying quirk. Even in personality they seemed interchangeable, from what you had seen on the news he was also akin to throwing childish temper tantrums and scratching at his neck when frustrated (a habit you regularly scolded Tenko for when you heard the telltale sound nails scraping along side the column of his neck.)

Whenever you did think about it though you stopped yourself, come on as if you would be gaming with Shig- no, you weren’t even going to say his name. So they had a few similarities, this was a whole villain compared to your sweet gaming partner. Dumb conspiracy theories aside, you couldn’t help the small flutter of your heart when he would say your name in a teasing manner or when he praised you for a particularly hard kill.

As you logged off for the night you laid your head against the wall your bed was propped next to and stared at the blank ceiling, your mind drifting back to the May Day conversation. A blushing Tenko came to your mind, his face obscured by a large hood, nervously rubbing at the back of his head before handing you a large bouquet of flowers. Your cheeks flushed and you slapped at them to stop yourself from heating up, vanishing the mental image mid thought.

Okay, so maybe it wasn’t as much of a small crush as you wanted it to be.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

After having a three day break, getting ready for work so early in the morning proved more effort than it should have been. Still trying to blink the sleep out of your eyes, you dragged your dazed body to your front door. You checked yourself for your belongings as you unlocked it, but as you took your first step out your foot landed in...ash?

You lifted your shoe to inspect the little decaying bits stuck to it, looking down you realised there was a pile of decayed dust on your doorstep.

You paled.

Instantly you were on high alert, tearing your foot from the contaminated shoe and snapping a picture of the evidence. You placed the shoe in a bag for further examination and bolted your door before texting your boss, the number four hero: Edgeshot.

Having the job of a personal assistant to such a high ranked hero meant you were used to lives being threatened. So far it had never happened to you and although this was small you could never be too sure. With the inside information you had, Edgeshot had always told you to be aware that someone may pull something sooner or later. It wasn’t completely out of the blue.

After seeing your message to your boss had been delivered, you reached out for the metal baseball bat you kept in the storage cupboard under the stairs, your quirk not really suited for defence purposes as it was made for technological aspects.

Checking every nook and cranny of your small apartment you didn’t see anything out of the ordinary and flopped back onto the sofa. Sighing, you ran a hand through your hair before going through your phone, checking the news, any odd sightings, anything you should possibly be alert for.

However crime rates seemed to be low and the only recent stories were from three days ago. Still not having received a text back from Edgeshot, you automatically switched to your messages with Tenko to type out the events of your morning.

I think I just got threatened lol

Instant response.

WHAT?!

If you don’t hear from me in 24 hours call the police :DD

Y/N

Ok okaY, damn you’re such a buzzkill

There was a pile of ash on my doorstep this morning, with my work you know I can never be too careful 

I’m fine though, I already told my boss

You waited as three dots appeared signifying he was typing but after a while they stopped. You furrowed your brows as they started up and stopped multiple times. After a full five minutes (during which time you grew bored and changed apps) a ping popped up.

With how long he had taken to type you were expecting a lengthy paragraph, what you weren’t expecting was a simple:

Oh

Oh? That’s all?

Yeah

You placed down your phone before another ping sounded out.

Are you sure they weren’t flowers

How the hell did you come to that conclusion

The typing ceased once more and you were left to your thoughts. What the hell did he mean by that? How did he come up with flowers out of all things like-

May Day?

You leapt from your seat, stumbling to look at the calendar attached to your kitchen wall, scanning the dates crossed off before turning the page and realising it was indeed the first of May. It surely couldn’t be a coincidence Tenko had brought up the holiday just yesterday. So he’d brought you flowers, because you said it was romantic… and he’d… dusted them. Dusted them, with his quirk, because he was…

Tenko could not be Shigaraki Tomura.

You did not have a crush on Shigaraki fucking Tomura.

Luckily at that moment the chime of your phone's ringtone going off distracted you. Looking at the caller ID you breathed a sigh of relief to see that it was Edgeshot. You could finally get to the bottom of this instead of drawing up ridiculous conclusions.

Edgeshot’s calm voice came through the other end of the line, stern but familiar. It seemed you’d been right to take the situation seriously, or so he assured you. But even as he talked to you, asking if you’d seen anything or if there was any other evidence of someone watching you, you couldn’t shake the feeling that it hadn’t meant anything at all.

Of course, if your gut instinct was right and you’d been gaming (and falling for) Shigaraki Tomura for three whole years and he’d been trying to romance you then that was. Definitely something. You just weren’t entirely sure what that something was.

You’d been talking to Edgeshot for nearly two hours when a knock sounded on your front door. Had he come by? What was the point of ringing, then? And wouldn’t he have told you?

You made your way over to the door and opened it expecting the sight of your boss, but instead you were met with a large bouquet of flowers perched on your doorstep. You looked up just in time to see a mess of unruly blue hair tucked into a black hoodie turning rapidly round the corner.

“False alarm,” you said quickly, ending the call on pure impulse and making a dash after the stranger.

You weren’t entirely sure what the plan was. It seemed more and more likely that you were right with each new development. What were you going to do if your gamer buddy really was an S-rank villain? Would you still be interested? Would he? He’d gone through the trouble of  getting you flowers not just once but twice, and honestly… the idea that he’d been so nervous the first time was kind of endearing.

That was a cute image, him standing at your door, so worried that he didn’t even notice he’d dusted the flowers in his hand as he set them down, probably running away quickly so you wouldn’t see him.

You reached out to grab the sleeve of your fleeing visitor and as they whirled round your suspicion after all this time was proven correct. You were speaking the moment his eyes met yours, all hesitation suddenly gone.

“You can’t just leave me flowers and run off like that, what if I thought it was another threat?”

Shigaraki’s scarlet eyes widened as they met your own.

“Hey Tenko” you grinned.

[whentherewerebicycles]

pictured above: the stages of our morning (fierce tussling, followed by a quick nap, followed by some adorable snuggling).

I slept nine and a half hours last night by accident but I think my body needed it. job hunt + big life decisions are taking a lot out of me!! then I spent 9:30-12:45 writing an extension request for the grant and a salary negotiation/promotion request for my boss. that was a little nerve-wracking but I think she’ll be receptive. also having to write out a description of how my role has evolved was actually a very useful exercise! it made me realize that my job responsibilities really have increased significantly since I started three years ago, but my pay and title haven’t changed at all. fingers crossed it will go over well… and if it doesn’t, it just means I can move to seattle sooner.

some further job musing behind the cut…

here’s where my head is at right now:

I want to do well in my Monday afternoon interview and get an offer (partly so I have leverage in negotiations if needed) but I think that unless something really changes for me in that interview I am going to turn down the job. the woman I talked to who was in the role before me said the red tape of government work is even worse than academia and got so maddening she couldn’t stand it for more than a year. she had some positive things to say about the work itself + the team but said that the intensely bureaucratic culture meant that every project took forever. idk I know no job is perfect but I’m not sure it’s a great fit.

turning down that job (if I even get it) is a risk because I have no other offers or leads right now, apart from the possible extension on my current job… and that one is v much at the mercy of the very slow-moving foundation. multiple people have said it’s likely they’ll approve the request, but that’s also kinda what everyone thought about the full renewal and we know how that turned out!! so I think I am going to make myself continue actively applying for remote + seattle jobs so that I can at least feel like I’m working towards a backup plan.

if the one-year extension doesn’t come through and I don’t get another job offer before 9/1, I have about a month and a half of my ADD meds left + three months of my ultra expensive sleeping pills. since you can apply for COBRA retroactively, I think I will just plan to not have health insurance for that first month while I continue job searching. I guess I can apply for unemployment (I don’t really know how that works or how long it takes to get it…). the good news is the IRS owes me $2k from my tax refund + I will be getting get my vacation days paid out from my current job, so that should give me enough to live on for a bit without having to dip into savings.

or I also have some short-term options. there’s a job at my university that I know from a friend is desperate to hire a humanities PhD (for some reason they’ve had at least one failed search) so maybe I could take that last minute before the semester starts. or I could take a remote college admissions job and make good money for the season (downside is usually no benefits there so I’d be paying for meds out of pocket). both would be less than ideal for various reasons but better than not having a job.

I think right now my ideal situation is: I get my salary request approved, the foundation agrees to extend our grant, and I spend the year running the program while also building up some skills/experiences for going on the job market again. for instance I could take a grant writing course and get a certification for that & then maybe do some volunteer grant writing in my free time to build up a portfolio. or I could take on a freelance writing job or part time communications role, again to build up my portfolio. staying attached to a university also means I could also do lots of relevant free trainings there or even take advantage of tuition benefits to take a class… like I’d love to develop at least some basic quantitative analysis skills, or take a formal class in program evaluation/assessment. basically I think I could use the time in a focused way to make myself competitive for jobs in the future. but we will see. I am trying not to put any eggs in that basket right now.

okay okay. time to put all this away for the day, I think. I’d like to spend some time messing around with audio editing for this podcast to see if I can figure it out or if I need bec’s help lol. I’m kinda loosely in ideation phase for a new novel project but I’m trying to put minimal pressure on it right now and keep it really relaxed/open in my mind… too much other stuff taking up my emotional bandwidth right now and I don’t want to accidentally turn this project I’m intrigued by into another source of stress! ok ok BYE FOR NOW sorry I just gotta process my every thought and feeling aloud in my public diary.

[j-pankratz]

The Slumber that Creeps to Me

Geraskefer. 7208 Words. Rated T.  Jaskier pulls an extreme all-nighter (read: 60+ hours) to finish a paper he procrastinated on, and finds at the end of it that sleep does not come as easily as he’d hoped. Tags for: Sleep Deprivation, Self Destruction/Lack of Self Care, Hallucinations, Nightmares, Overstimulation, Hurt/Comfort, Whumping the Bard, very loving partners, and a happy ending. <3 AO3 link in the reblog!

As with most disasters spurned by his own cockiness, Jaskier felt as thought that all in all, the situation could have been worse.

The idea to have Geralt and Yennefer spend the spring holiday break at Oxenfurt was, in his defense, ingenious. His students weren’t around, the weather was gorgeous, they all had varying degrees of business in the city, and they could fuck each other senseless at any hour of the day. In a bed. A nice one, provided he was a legitimate professor, now. Well, visiting. Well, it was complicated. But they were his rooms, and that’s what mattered.

When Jaskier gotten the prestigious offer to write the season’s main article for the Continent’s most respected Bardic Journal, he’d just sort of figured he’d… fit it in, somewhere. He had seventeen months, which was plenty enough for him. Then he’d just work with the editors, and have a centerfold piece. It was an honor. He was excited about it! He’d meant to get to it sooner, but decided the summer before that he’d devote the winter to it. But… he’d… he’d been distracted. It wasn’t often the entire family gathered at Kaer Morhen. So, he thought, he’d do it later.

But the first few weeks after winter were, of course, spent with Geralt. And the week after that, a trip to the coast, where he’d played a festival and met up with Ciri, who was becoming an amateur critic herself. And then by pure, absolute happenstance, after 3 more weeks of travel he happened to end up at an inn that he definitely hadn’t heard Yennefer was staying at. So that more time gone. And then he’d arrived in Oxenfurt, and he’d really meant to get to work on it, but there was so much to prepare for! He wanted things to be right for them.

And then Yennefer and Geralt had actually arrived, and the idea of anything possibly being more important than their presence flew his mind.

And now, here he was. If he wanted to get it in on time (unfortunately, that wasn’t a suggestion in this case, more of an actual, terrifying requirement,) he’d need to submit it in… gods above, less than three days. 60 hours, if he was doing the math.

There was no word limit, nor a minimum. But, ever the maximalist, he knew it was going to be… long, if he was going to do it right. They’d edit it down, but it was the focal point of the journal, they’d been leading up to it for ages now. Ahh. Well. There was only one thing for it, he supposed.

“I’m working through the night on my paper!” He’d announced that morning, sitting straight up in bed, jostling his sleepy lovers. “No one bother me! I will be at the dining table until further notice!” He swung himself out of bed and made for the door.

“Pants,” his lovers chorused together.

“Right!” he'd said, and marched back into the room.

He’d pulled all-nighters in his youth. In fact, he couldn’t count the times he’d worked through the night, deposited a composition or essay on his professor’s desk with some polite conversation and maybe a wink, and then promptly fallen asleep during the lecture itself. Just a 15-minute power nap, really! Then he’d be back up and at it again, working through another night just to sleep through the weekend. He’d done it before, he could do it again.

Well, it’d been 25 years ago, but that didn’t change much, did it? He still felt spry, agile, hearty— hell, he’d spent the better part of the last twenty odd years chasing after a Witcher, and later an additional princess and mage— surely he should be in better health now!

This was completely accomplishable. Admittedly, he could have written this sooner… but he hadn’t, and here he was.

Geralt and Yennefer both set out early on different errands, leaving the bard to some peace and quiet. Relatively.

He spread his work and references out before him. 7 books, 4 pamphlets, his favorite quills, a hundred fresh pieces of parchments, his lute at his knee. “Alright,” he said aloud to his empty Oxenfurt apartment, “Just sit down and write the damn thing. Sitting part, definitely done. Writing next. Just… write.”

He stared at the page.

“No! No, no, do not be impossible about this. Just start the thing.”

The page stared back.

“Ah, blast,” he muttered, rubbing his eyes. This was fine. Just… do the awful, disgusting part of beginning, and then he’d be off. The sooner he started, the sooner he’d finish, after all! He took a breath, and put his pen to paper.

xx

Yennefer returned a few hours later, a book and small parcel in hand. Jaskier looked up to see her sweep through the room, a commanding presence, though she didn’t acknowledge him yet. A few waves of her hands and a pot of tea was put on to boil, her hair was put in a bun, and three mugs were floating down from a shelf.

“Lovely to see you too,” he smiled as Yennefer poked through the tea collection. He could practically hear her fond eye roll. She neatly plucked two from one box and looked back at him in question. “Ah… peppermint, if we’ve got it?” and she turned back to the cupboard grab it.

“Any progress?” She finally asked.

“A bit, actually!” Jaskier said cheerfully. It didn’t look like much, but he’d done half a page with almost no errors, and he’d made plenty of notes in the margins of the books he’d need later. It was better than he’d hoped it’d be going by this point, at least. He was kicking academia’s ass. Or, he would be.

The kettle whistled and Yennefer poured the tea, bobbing all three of the tea bags up and down as they steeped. He watched her lean against the counter, casual, relaxed, gorgeous, before realizing she was staring back at him. “Um! Yes, no, definitely good. Got a lot of… those words, you know, they are definitely here. Looking very sexy. The words! The writing is looking… very sexy, very curvy… letters. Sensuous words, you know.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Sensuous words.”

“Yeah, yes. Like… contemporaneous… and… iguana.”

“Iguana.” She let out a little huff of a laugh and something in Jaskier’s chest tightened and loosened in quick succession. And in a moment she was there, sliding him a large mug with the carving of a rather playful looking bear on one side, batting at a butterfly.

“Oh! My favorite. Thank you, thank you.”

“Mmm,” she said before waving a hand to cool down their tea a bit. She took a seat opposite him, scanning an eye over the table. “Think you’ll be done by tonight?”

Jaskier laughed. “Darling, I’ll be lucky to be done by tomorrow morning.”

“You’re planning to stay up all night, bard?”

“Unfortunately.” He took a sip. “Should be done by tomorrow afternoon, if I keep steady at it.”

“After tea, of course.”

“Of course.”

Yennefer stretched out a bit, kicking her feet onto Jaskier’s lap and rolling her neck. They sat there a moment, sipping, pausing, drinking in each other. There was something nice about taking a moment of stillness with someone just as frenetic as he was, someone who was usually just as itching for something to do, even if she went about it differently. The grace of choosing stillness, he thought, was not something to ignore.

Yennefer reached the end of her mug and tapped its ceramic walls lightly.

“What’s next for you?”

“I have to refresh my potion stock, so I’ll be at the market for supplies. You sure you don’t want to take a break and join?”

Rat’s ass. He fucking loved the Oxenfurt markets. “I’m afraid I can’t. Academia calls.”

“Who does it call for, exactly? What’s that I hear…” She cocked her head and listened intently. “Who is it calling for… is that… V… Val… Valdo?” Jaskier hefted her feet off of his lap in protest, and she laughed. He plucked his quill from its stopper, and went back to hovering over his paper. Introduction mostly accomplished, now he had to really lead in to his point, give some proper context. He flipped through a book beside him.

Yennefer rose smoothly from the table and went to move her mug to the sink. “When Geralt gets in, tell him I need toadflax and bluebells from him? Might as well put him to use.”

Jaskier flipped through the pages, thumbing through for a note he’d sworn he’d made ages ago, when he belatedly tried to register his mage’s words. He could have his fun, too.

“Blue…Yennefer, you want me to tell Geralt that you need blue balls from him?”

“Bells! Bells, you absolute child!” she said. “Honestly. Blue balls? Really, Jaskier?” He was giggling. “I don’t need to ask to give either of you blue balls.”

“Exactly, Yennefer, you provide that service for us anyway, free of charge!” A balled-up napkin hit him in the head and he laughed joyfully.

“I can’t stand you. I’m leaving, you’ll never see me again.”

Jaskier looked up through his grin and met her twinkling, happy eyes. “Tonight then?”

“Tonight,” she agreed, and left with a quick ruffle of his hair.

xx

“Still working?” Geralt said as greeting later in the afternoon. The desk was neater than Jaskier expected it to be this far in, only a few books open, dog eared and marked in colored ink. He’d written a page and a half since Yennefer left, and it was good, it was, but he’d need to go back and make edits later. His long empty mug of tea sat far across him.

“Mm,” he agreed, continuing to write. “Ah, Yennefer came through earlier,” giving a gesture to the waiting mug of tea on the counter. Geralt made his way over to the mug, and gave it a small igni to warm it. He smiled fondly down at the drink—what a terribly lovely sight he was. Warm here, and safe. Couldn’t it be like this always? The three of them here, comfortable and happy? No, he supposed, but gods how he wanted it.

“She’s at the market now,” Jaskier continued, “wanted me to ask you about...” He lifted his pen and squinted. “Ah, toadflax and bluebells.” He looked up at Geralt, smiling. “Blue balls,” they said together, sporting matching shit-eating grins, Geralt’s albeit much smaller. “I made the same joke myself,” Jaskier added.

Geralt snorted. “How’d she take that?”

“Oh, as well as you’d hope. We’ll never see her again, of course.” He turned back to his work, reading over the last paragraph. He could feel Geralt approach to stand behind him, and while he’d normally shoo his witcher off, he was too deep in concentration to bother.

How long was too long to linger on the progression of oral storytelling to bardship? It’s not like he could ignore it, (Geralt’s hand came to grip his shoulder, a thumb rubbing against it tenderly) as it was a crucial tenant of the argument— but there was plenty to be said for assuming the literacy and foreknowledge of the reader. (He leaned in to get a closer look at Jaskier’s page, the soft warmth of the tea in his other hand bouncing off his chest) But this was to be in a journal often referenced by first years, and he knew how much he would have loved a paper that had everything all in one—

“How’s it going?” Geralt asked softly in his ear.

Jaskier waved a hand over the mess before him. “You know. It’s fine, I’m just not sure at what point I’m lingering on points to excess.”

“Mm,” Geralt hummed understandingly. “Tell the story. Trust your gut.” He gave Jaskier a nuzzle and light kiss against his cheek before taking up the empty mug off the table and walking off further into the apartment.

“I always do!” Jaskier called back. Mm, if only this were as simple as telling a story. Well…Oh—if he spent this paragraph referencing the progression it would end up taking up more room, be a run of the mill lead-in, but if he wrote the actual history as a short story itself, now there was an idea, he could make his point and give the context. Oh, fuck, brilliant—

“Back soon,” Geralt was saying as the front door slipped shut, but the bard was too lost in his work to do more than give a small nod of his head.

The sun was falling, making a graceful bow into the horizon. Warm light spread out over the streets of Oxenfurt like the last pushes of tide, ebbing, and flowing, and sinking back into night.

“Ah, fuck,” Jaskier muttered, crossing out a spelling error with a snarl.

His shoulders ached, and his lower back was going to be the death of him. He was on page 7. All he could see was the work ahead of him, winding off ad infinitum. If he didn’t pick up the pace, he might have to go 60 hours straight—he shivered. Not ideal. He took a breath, stood up and stretched a bit, his muscles groaning in thanks. A quick bathroom break later and he was sliding back into his chair, still warm, his papers grinning up at him, sardonic.

He’d take a meal break at 10 pages, he told himself.

He stood to stretch and his head swam. Well. Plenty of reason to stay seated, he supposed.

Geralt and Yennefer returned at 12 and a half pages. He turned his head in greeting, and when he looked back he got the first real look at the table in hours—it was a disaster, crumbled pieces of parchment, empty quills, and little notes strewn everywhere. Some books propped open, the pile of parchment looking more like a mountain slope, an empty glass from when he’d chugged water hours ago.

His loves were clearly a few drinks deep as they came through the door, and completely unmarred by the woes of academia. Bastards, honestly.

“Hi, hello, hope you had a good evening, I—”

“Come to bed,” Yennefer said, suddenly right behind him. Two small but firm hands came to his shoulders, rubbing deeply.

“Ah! Oh, fuck—oh, yes, darling, right there—”

Geralt came to his other side, tipping his head up for a kiss, which he moaned into. His witcher’s tongue was soft, pleading, tempting him—his mage’s hands pushing almost painfully against his aching muscles. He wanted to cry, it was so good. It was so different than the last… however many hours it had been that he had been sitting here. Geralt pulled away, and Yennefer’s hands came to rest as well.

“So?” Geralt asked, his voice deep and velvety. “Bed?”

“I…” gods, who had he become? “I can’t. I want to, I just—”

Yennefer placed a kiss to the top of his head. “It’s fine,” she said, and he knew it was, but he hated denying them something they all wanted. “Have you eaten?”

Jaskier frowned. “Fuck. Not really.”

Geralt sighed and went to the pantry. “You’re getting a sandwich,” he grumbled.

“Ooo, Geralt, dear heart, would you heat it up? Use some of your,” he wiggled his fingers “your witchery magic?”

Geralt turned and glared. “You’re getting a sandwich.”

“He’s so mean to me,” Jaskier muttered to Yennefer, “I can’t believe he’s so mean to me.”

His mage snorted a laugh into his hair. “You’re really staying up all night, then?” She waved a hand and the curtains around the room swept shut, and his lantern began to burn steadily.

“Looks like it,” he sighed. Geralt retuned a moment later, plated warm sandwich and glass of water in hand.

“Fuck. Thank you.” He took it and took a bite, suddenly ravenous. He looked up at both of them, staring down in fond amusement. “Fank—” he swallowed his mouthful of sandwich. “Thank you both, truly. I’ll be up a bit. If you need something, call, yes?”

They rolled their eyes. “He tells us to call if we need anything,” Yennefer muttered. “Don’t get into any trouble,” she said, and with a peck on the cheek from both of them, they disappeared into the bedroom.

He looked back at his work.

Okay. 12 ½ pages in. He could do this.

x

At 15 pages, he felt ravenous again, and made a second sandwich. Not as good as Geralt’s. Geralt’s sandwiches weren’t even that good, but they were made by Geralt, which added a certain kick, a novelty he adored.

He drank another glass of water and shook his head. Back to work.

At 17 pages, sometimes the world swam before him. He gripped the edge of the table. Fuck.

He was so tired. 23 pages. He kept writing.

It was terrible. The whole paper was a mess. Nothing made sense and people were going to laugh at him. 25 pages.

He heard a sound. Was that Geralt rising for the bathroom? Was it an intruder? Light crept in through the window. 27 pages.

There was a ringing in his ear. His writing was getting increasingly larger. 27 ½ pages.

Geralt gave him a soft nuzzle to the top of his head before padding through to the kitchen. Jaskier’s heart ached. His bones ached. Writing was hard but right then it felt impossible. 27 ¾ pages.

Geralt lingered, and Jaskier felt his nose twitch. He tapped his foot impatiently, waiting for him to leave. He couldn’t have any distractions right now. He shut his eyes tight until he heard the bedroom door close once more.

Yennefer entered hours later, sweeping the curtains over with a flick of her hand. Bright light flooded the room, painting the desk in all its full, disgustingly messy glory. “Well—”

“Could you ask next time?!” Jaskier snapped. “Some of us need consistency to concentrate!”

Yennefer raised an eyebrow, and they stared at each other. Some part of him wanted to slap himself but the rest was just so irritated. Who’d she think she was, anyway?

After a moment, the mage turned and left with a flick of her hand to sweep the curtains shut again.

“Headed out,” Geralt said at 30 pages. “Contract.”

“Good,” Jaskier muttered. “I mean. Good that you’re—fuck. Whatever.”

Geralt stared. “You need rest. It’s been more than 24 hours.”

“I need to fucking finish.”

“Yen said—”

“I’m sure she did,” Jaskier muttered, driving his heels into his eyes. Gods, his eyes burned. Silence hung.

“She portaled out this morning.”

Jaskier rolled his eyes. “Great. Love that. I’m a fucking disaster, thank you for the reminder, Geralt.” He waved toward the door. “Don’t you have a contract?”

He turned back to his papers, shifting around to look for page 11, and didn’t think about how long it took before Geralt left the apartment.

His hand was shaking but he was at 34 pages. He still had so much to say. Fuck. But he was in it now.

He scarfed down some soup that was mostly broth at some point, and he’d under-salted it, but it was something. His eyes kept going blurry; traitorous things.

The bear on his mug was plotting his downfall.

38 pages and Jaskier felt like the gods themselves had gifted him with the knowledge he now bestowed onto meager commoners. He was a genius.

At 43 pages, he had stopped to lay out the entire essay on the ground, so he could see it all. The words sometimes swam before him, and he had trouble remembering what he was meant to say next. Once, he looked up, confused as to where he was. And then, at 44 pages, the guilt of snapping at his dearest loves, the weight of this behemoth paper he wasn’t even sure he could finish, and his own self-doubt crept in and seized him up, leaving him breathless and in tears for… awhile. Everything hurt. He had to keep going.

At 48 pages, he saw a griffon fly through his window, and he named it Kalvin. He turned whatever color Jaskier wanted him to turn, which was very considerate of him. Kalvin was his only friend now, and with a little convincing, might become his editor, too.

At 55 pages his chest seized, and it was hard to breathe for a moment. He closed his eyes but—no, no, couldn’t do that. If he fell asleep now, he’d never finish in time. He tried to relax, got some water, leaned against the counter. Everything was a mess.

He sat back on the floor, his work around him. Keep going.

“I don’t think there’s anything about anything that I have to be doing right now. Kalvin, you’ve… you’ve got to understand, this could be my finest work! It’s good. It’s pretty good here in… in this part, here. In that other part it’s just okay, but that’s why you come in with your big claws and you’re gonna. Rip up the bad parts. Don’t rip up the good parts. Right? Yeah. Do you think they’ve forgotten about me by now?”

He looked down. 57 pages. Took a long blink.

“Yeah,” he said softly, “That’s fair.

He had to write two extra pages so that he could skirt around referencing Valdo Marx’s work as anything other than a contradictory point. Maybe it would have been fun to use his own writing against him but he didn’t want to give the satisfaction of being referenced positively in a centerfold piece.

He lost the essay.

“Fuck—oh, gods, where did—”

He turned around, looked down. Oh, there it was.

“Thank fuck.”

The curtains were still closed and the charmed lantern was still burning, but Jaskier knew it was night by the time he reached 63 pages and Geralt came in.

Jaskier looked up from his spot kneeling on the floor. Geralt looked fine. He was a little dirty. There were some gushy bits. Probably blood. He was tired. Or just mad. Maybe he hated Jaskier.

“You’re still—?!” Geralt asked, looking at Jaskier like he’d just said a griffon named Kalvin had flown in the window earlier and now they were friends.

“I met a griffon,” Jaskier heard himself say. Geralt stared. “We’re friends now.”

“…You need to fucking sleep.”

“No.” Jaskier went back to the margin he’d devoted to drawing circles in. “Sorry ‘bout earlier.”

Geralt sighed. He might have talked but Jaskier didn’t hear, just kept writing.

“How often has that been happening?” he heard Geralt ask.

“What happening?”

“Where you fall asleep for a moment.”

“I haven’t! Fallen asleep.”

“Fuck,” Geralt said. He looked very nice, except for the goop all over him. Well. Even that wasn’t so bad, when the underneath bits were Geralt. His Geralt. Looked so warm, so strong, so able to carry him.

“Later,” Jaskier replied, and went back to his words. The familiar pop of a portal sounded in the bedroom. Their eyes lingered on the direction it came from, but Yennefer didn’t open the door. They looked at each other, and then back at the door which remained very much shut. “She’s mad.”

“Yep.”

“At me.”

“Yep.”

There was a pause. “Are you covered in blood?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Oh.”

“Not mine.”

“That,” he said pointing to the Witcher, “is good.”

“Mmm.”

“Sticky though.”

“Definitely sticky.”

Yennefer came out of the doorway, and Jaskier blinked. When he opened his eyes again she was much closer than she’d been and was in the middle of talking. Magic, he assumed.

“—yourself very lucky, bard.”

“Yeahh,” he said. “Sorry. ‘Bout… Sorry.”

She huffed and crossed her arms. There was a look in her face. Eyes? And her mouth. It was hard to name. Words were hard, when they weren’t the words he desperately needed to write.

“—for a while,” Geralt was saying. “Jaskier. How close are you to finishing.”

“Soon!” Jaskier said. “Soon! Soon. Due… 1pm tomorrow. What time is it?”

“10pm.”

“Fuck. Psshhh. I can… I can do it.” He looked up at Yennefer. “Sorry. Really. I… I’m just tired,” he admitted. “Shouldn’t have snapped. Not fair to you.”

Yennefer stood there, arms folded, emanating some emotion Jaskier had lost the concept of around page 41. Geralt walked further into the apartment, into the bedroom. Oh right. Blood armor. Ick.

He went back to writing and tried to ignore the desire to cry again, and then suddenly Yennefer’s shoes were in his line of vision.

“Let me read it,” she said.

“Oh.”

They stared at one another. She had such a pretty face. He might have been smiling. She rolled her eyes and then came to sit next to him. She quickly found the first page and began.

Halfway through it, he spilled ink on the bottom half of page 64, and wept. Yennefer gave him an attempt at a comforting pat on the back.

Yennefer had read the pages and risen; “It’s good. You need edits, but it’s somehow decent. Good. Whatever. A little… loose, toward the end, though,” made herself a cup of tea, and entered the bedroom.

Either a few moments, or 20 minutes later, Geralt emerged.

“What are you at now?”

“69 pages.”

“Nice,” Geralt said.

“Ha. Yeahhh,” Jaskier agreed.

“That’s not what I—” Geralt sighed the sigh that meant his face was going all pinch-y. “Close to the end?”

“Mmm. What is the end, really?” Geralt made a different pinch-y face. “Soon.”

“Come to bed tonight, Jaskier.”

“I’ll try,” he said. He blinked, and Geralt was gone.

There are a lot of words in an essay that are very hard to spell.

Jaskier ate the rest of a loaf of bread.

For a while, he swore he walked the streets of Oxenfurt while still warm in his professorial housing.

Kalvin’s accent changed three times and at one point he was on fire.

85 pages.

Geralt woke first, as always; There he was! That was his love. So much of his heart.

With shaking hands, Jaskier had brought himself up to sit in his chair, and sat staring down at his work. He looked up at Geralt with a lopsided grin. “I did it,” he said weakly.

“Need help putting it together?”

The tears fell so quickly he didn’t realize it was happening. “Really?”

Geralt sighed softly and knelt down, organizing the papers.

Yennefer emerged a bit later—There she was! His love, a chunk of him was hers entirely. He smiled. “Look!”

“Mmm. And now you can sleep.”

“NO!” Jaskier cried and leapt to his feet, “No, no, now… now is presenting time. To… the editors. Not Kalvin. But I turn it in… and then sleep,”

He had a sudden burst of energy, and tried to step over Geralt and the papers, but fell into the table instead, before the Witcher steadied him from below.

“Ohhhh, thank you dear. It’s time for… presentation! Mm.” He leaned into Yennefer’s warmth at his side, though she did not wrap her arms around him as he’d hoped. “Help me pick out an outfit.”

He blinked. Yennefer was in front of him now, looking at him with a frown, her hands around his waist. Geralt’s hand was against his forehead. “No! Stop that! I’m fine. I’m fine! See me! Fine. It’s action time. Let’s go!” and he marched off to the bedroom.

The floor was suddenly very close to his face.

“Did I—”

“You fell on your face.”

“Have I—”

“You’ve asked three times now, yes.”

There should have been fanfare when he turned it in, but there was only the grateful smile of Edmond, the young new assistant, a firm handshake, and a promise he’d hear back from them very soon, for a quick summarization of their initial thoughts. Or, he’d used all those words, Jaskier forgot which order they’d come in.

The three returned to the apartment, and everything happened very slowly and so quickly he found it hard to keep track. There was definitely a bath drawn for him—gods, it had been days, hadn’t it— oh, fuck, he was gross, wasn’t he—a full meal, and a celebratory drink. He’d made a few good jokes, and all he could see were Geralt and Yennefer, smiling at him. An empty glass. A bar of soap. A long quill. A messy table. A pile of books and an empty mug. They deposited him on the bed for sleep, and left together.

Jaskier lay there, waiting for sleep to take him.

It did not.

He was so tired he could cry. He did, a few times. He couldn’t think straight. All of it, everything, hurt. His body ached. He tried to soothe himself down alone, rocking himself in the hopes it would work. But nothing.

What if he could never sleep again? What if he would always be awake, forever? What if this was how he died?! Oh gods, he didn’t want to die! He still had edits to approve!

Eventually, he could feel himself getting closer. He adjusted himself, lay on his back and took deep, measured breaths, kept his eyes closed but relaxed. Okay. Okay. Sleep.

He was falling, so violently and so fast that when he jolted awake, he forgot he’d been lying on a bed in the first place.

Fuck.

He tried again. It happened sometimes, it was fine. He’d be fine.

He tried breathing deeply once more, trying to let the distant scents of Yennefer and Geralt now embedded in his pillows overtake him.

A fear so powerful it gripped his heart and twisted, whispered to him, ‘this is what dying is, you’re going to die’ and he once again jolted awake. He threw his head back against the pillow and winced; even that hurt.

Fuck. Fuck.

He kept trying. Over, and over, he’d get so close to sleep and then right at the precipice, something would yank him out of it.

Once, he saw Yennefer falling off a cliff. Another time, he saw Geralt stabbed through the chest. At some point, he saw Ciri screaming, and his hands flew out to pull her close, only to find nothing there. Sometimes it was himself falling, and sometimes it was the world below him falling instead.

He’d really done it this time. Stayed awake so long, sleep had abandoned him entirely.

It felt like twelve years before Yennefer and Geralt returned, slipping into the room quietly. He sat up in bed, startling them both.

“Please,” he said quietly, “I can’t. I don’t know why I can’t I just—I can’t. My body won’t let me, I want to but I can’t—”

“How the hell—” Yennefer started, walking over to him with a palm out to check for a curse, maybe? It didn’t matter. He wrapped her hand in his and clutched it to himself, desperate for her. She was so warm. So alive.

“Fuck,” Geralt sighed, “It’s been nearly 70 hours already, Jaskier.”

“Let me just put him down with magic,” Yennefer started, but Geralt put a hand up.

“We can’t. It’s a temporary fix. if he can’t fall asleep on his own without magic, it’ll get harder and harder for him. We need to get him to fall asleep without it.” They looked down at him. What a disgrace he must look like, how pathetic he was. He turned his face away in abject shame. He couldn’t even fall asleep right.

While he looked away, Yennefer tore her hand from his as she and Geralt discarded their clothes into heaps beside the bed, crawled beneath the covers on either side of Jaskier. They hated him. They must. How could they not?

“It’s fine, you don’t—fuck, sorry—”

Geralt shrugged. “Don’t be. I know how bad it gets. It’s different for a Witcher, but no sleep is the whole reason we met Yennefer.”

“Oh, yeah,” Jaskier said softly.

“As I recall, the solution then was to have vigorous sex on the floor.” Yennefer ran a finger along Jaskier’s chest. “Sound appealing?”

“I—yes, Yennefer, it sounds appealing.” He fidgeted, tried to focus on the feeling of Yennefer’s delicate touch. He was oversensitive enough that it felt like fire, but nothing… stirred, and each word he spoke felt like he was pulling honey from his tongue. “I don’t… much as I’d like, I’m not sure I’d be... up for it right now.” Yennefer’s head fell against the pillow and she flattened her hand, ran the palm up his chest to rest above his heart. Pressed a kiss there.

He closed his eyes and tried to breathe deeply, but they were looking at him, he could feel every inch of their gazes and it was all too much. He whined in agony. “I can’t do this. Fuck. I can’t, just put me out. We try it again tomorrow, I—”

“Jaskier. You can. Tell us what you need and we can help you,” Yennefer said, sweet but firm. And that was her, wasn’t it?

He couldn’t think. Wanted to. Wanted so much. Wanted to be asleep.

Jaskier curled up on his side, exhausted of being exhausted, when he felt Geralt slide up closer behind him. “Can I hold you?” he murmured into the bard’s shoulder. Jaskier nodded, and felt Geralt’s arm come around him and under his own arm, felt it slide up his chest and cross it protectively.

“Feel good?” Jaskier nodded, and then cracked his eyes open, met Yennefer’s, concern palpable.

He lifted one arm just slightly. “C’mere?” And she did, curled into his arms and around him, tucked her head under his, kissed the top of Geralt’s fingers. He held her close, and was held by the two in turn. Breathing, somehow, felt easier between them.

“Breathe, bard,” Yennefer urged him softly. Geralt buried his nose in Jaskier’s hair, took in a deep breath, and Jaskier tried to follow.

They breathed softly, all together, slow and safe. Soon, he was drifting into sweet oblivion.

‘You,’ Fear said, wrapped around his sternum, ‘will crumble, the moment you let go of wakefulness.’ It gripped him, and tugged him back to reality.

He jolted again. “Fuck, dammit, cock wringing—”

Yennefer pulled back to look at him worriedly. “Is that what’s been keeping you up?” she asked.

“It’s, I don’t know, something just pulls me back, I try to fight it but…”

“Mmm,” Geralt agreed. “Sleep starts. Happens sometimes.”

“The hell are sleep starts?”

“They’re… when you’re too on edge to sleep, or just haven’t in too long, brains… fizzle. Keep you awake. It’s a survival instinct—it makes you think you’ve got to stay awake to stay alive. Feels like falling? Or… a shock. Sometimes other things. Hallucinations.” Geralt pressed a kiss to the back of his head. “It’s scary. It’s meant to be. Your body thinks it’s fighting for its life.”

“I am never letting you doom yourself like this ever again,” Yennefer said, and while it was probably meant to come out angry, she just sounded worried.

Geralt hummed and agreement. “Try again, we’ve got you. We’re not letting go.” Jaskier took a breath. They had him. They had him.

Yennefer lifted a hand to Jaskier’s temple. “May I?” And he let her in, easier than breathing. She gave him Ciri laughing, wind chimes on the breeze, the soft roar of the coast. Geralt hugged him tight, ran his other hand through Jaskier’s hair, tried to keep the bard’s breathing aligned. Now, what had he ever done to earn these two?

Soon, sleep came to him again, and he could feel Yennefer ready to soothe anything that came for him in his mind, Geralt ready to defend against anything that dared hurt his resting body. The darkness crept in, and he felt peace.

Geralt was reaching for him, falling, bleeding, screaming.

“FUCK!”

“Shh,” the real Geralt hushed him. “We’ve got you.”

“Fuck, there’s got to be something else,” Yennefer groaned. “What’ve you tried so far?”

“I have tried… to fall asleep.”

Yennefer and Geralt both huffed small laughs. “No. Positions—”

“Only the good ones.”

“Meditating?” Geralt asked.

“Darling, I haven’t had a thought in my head in hours. This is meditation.”

“Drugs?” Yennefer asked.

“I will try the drugs!” Jaskier said with a drowsy cheerfulness, as Geralt replied “No drugs. No.”

“Ugh,” Jaskier groaned, and shifted to lie on his stomach. Oh. This was… better. He nestled into the pillows, and a soft contented sigh drifted from him.

“That feel better?” Geralt asked as he ran a hand up and down Jaskier’s back. “Mmm,” Jaskier replied. Yennefer’s hand joined Geralt over his chest. Oh, they were going to make him cry.

And then it was too much, too much feeling, like his brain couldn’t handle all the sensation, and he felt Yennefer come to pause, and a moment later, Geralt’s hand as well. ‘That better?’ Yennefer asked in his mind. Jaskier gave her the memory of his favorite hug with her, warm and happy as her legs wrapped around his waist, and his favorite with Geralt, crushing and firm and full of too many emotions to speak aloud.

“Could…” he said softly, “Just. Talk? Not to me. Just… to each other. Just wanna hear you.” He could almost hear their smiles, and felt as they settled in on the pillows beside him, arms and hands intertwining on his back. Yennefer’s head on his shoulder, the gentle planes of Geralt’s chest on his other side. “If you need us, Yennefer and I are here. We’ve got you. You’re safe.”

He nodded into the mattress, cool and soft below him.

“Goodnight, Jaskier.”

“G’night Yennefer.”

“Goodnight, Jaskier.”

"G’night, Geralt.”

He started to fade into oblivion, but stopped himself before he got too far. Not fear, not anxiety, a conscious stopping. Somewhere above him, Geralt was telling Yennefer about the contract from… sometime in the past few days, and Yennefer was telling her own story about some town gossip with a woman and her hens, which, it might have been a metaphor, but he’d basically forgotten what those were by now. He breathed deeply, felt their words flow through him, and when he felt brave enough, he let go, trusting they would catch him.

He could have sworn he heard wind chimes, somewhere.

x

The small amount of light filtering in through the curtains was golden when he awoke. His head both ached and felt light as a feather, his muscles screamed and cried but half of it was in relief. He gave a small stretch and yawned. “G’morning,” an amused Geralt said to him, lounging in a chair he’d brought beside the bed, reading a book. His legs were propped up on the bed beside the bard’s and Jaskier stretched to bump their toes together.

“What time…?”

“You slept 13 hours.”

“Fuck.”

“You probably need more.”

“Yeahhhh.”

“Feel alright?”

“Like a real human being,” he said. “Hungry, though.”

“Mmm.”

Yennefer slipped in the door, but, noticing Jaskier was awake, rose a hand. “May I?” she asked, voice dripping in sarcasm, gesturing to the curtains.

“You may,” Jaskier offered, covering his face with his hands. “Ohhhh, gods, how bad was I?”

“Genuinely awful,” Yennefer said, as Geralt was saying, “There’s been worse.”

“Normally I’d withhold this,” the mage said, withdrawing a small envelope from her pocket. “But, under the circumstances…” she cleared her throat.

“To one Julian Alfred Pankratz. We were extremely pleased to receive your manuscript yesterday afternoon. Our editors are will have their notes to you by the weekend, but we wanted to reach out and extend our most sincere compliments on your work. It is—oh, a flood of adjectives, I’m skipping these. Etcetera, etcetera, sucking your dick, etcetera alright, here—and meticulous in construction. We can tell,” Yennefer said, dragging out the final sentence, “you made good use of your year of writing time to complete the work.” Jaskier and Geralt by this point were holding back true howls of laughter.

“And won’t you believe it, there’s more. Ahem; we have a number of suggestions and questions already, but encourage you to get your well-deserved rest as we prepare our feedback. We are grateful to work with you, and thank you again for your stunning entry. There’s a postscript,” Yennefer added. “As a quick and personal note, we cannot have helped but notice the nature of your penmanship; we mean no offence, but would encourage you to see a doctor of the eye to fit you with some spectacles.”

“My—my penman…? What’d—” and Yennefer, who had clearly been waiting for this moment, brought out a rather crumpled piece of parchment with an ink stain at the bottom—ah, yes, the original page 64— and showed it to him. His eyes were… gods, they were aching, but he was clear minded enough now to see that each line had become at least twice it’s normal size. The lines were far from straight, dipping and bending toward the edge of the paper, the letters changed directions at random points, and a fair amount of the words were smudged so completely they were hard to make out.”

Jaskier stared in horror.

“They. Is that. Is that what it looked like? Really?”

“It’s worse than most of the ones that made it in,” Geralt said, carefully.

“Most?!”

“You drew pictures on one of them,” Yennefer said.

“Oh my god. They…they must…”

“Adore it, clearly,” Yennefer said, setting aside the paper. “It wasn’t worth the strain, and you’ve definitely firmly embarrassed yourself, but they’re either embarrassing themselves by fawning praise on you,” she said, sliding onto the bed, “Or you’re actually just… very knowledgeable and talented, even when addled by sleep deprivation.”

There was a pause, Jaskier soaking this in; it hadn’t been worth it, exactly, but it wasn’t all bad. In fact, it was quite good, and Yennefer was complimenting him outright, so, very good.

“Or both,” Geralt added.

“Definitely both,” Yennefer agreed.

Jaskier groaned. “You can’t be mean to me. You’re in my house and I am extremely tired, which means that you, by law, must kiss me and tell me nice things about myself.”

Geralt laughed, light and free, and Yennefer slunk slower down into the bed. “You get no kisses,” she said, “You get sleep and rest.” She grabbed a pillow from under her head and plopped it delicately onto Jaskier’s face.

“Boo,” Jaskier said, muffled beneath the thing. He closed his eyes. Geralt muttered something, and Yennefer gave a snort of laughter, and then there was silence.

“Are you two kissing up there?!”

More silence.

“UGH,” he groaned, and sunk into his soft, sweet mattress. Oh, beautiful mattress. How he adored it, how he adored his two loves on top of it. He listened to their kissing, soft, and sweet, and knew he’d join them soon. But it was so warm down here. Even as one of them removed the pillow, he could only bring himself to open his eyes for a moment, to see them both leaning to kiss his face gently, before returning to each other. He took a long, deep breath, and listened to them swirl around him, until all he could feel was their love and the sweet caress of his pillow.

[alyasgf]

Adrien’s Admirer- Adrinette April Day 6 -Anime!

Summary- Adrien Agreste has a secret admirer and its none other than Marinette Dupain Cheng.

Word Count

1650

Excerpt

Realizing how insane it’d look to carry all of these presents to Adrien at once and that all of them being from her might be weird, an idea struck.

“What if I hid them around for him to find from a secret admirer!” Marinette proposed excitedly. “It’d be perfect! I’d be able to see his adorable reactions without feeling embarrassed!”

AO3

The pedestal Marinette had put Adrien on in her younger years had been far too high. It seemed the more time she spent with him the dorkier and more human he became. First it had been the puns, then his concerningly large ladybug merchandise collection that he was extremely fond of, and now he’s a huge anime fan.

Marinette hadn’t meant to find his anime dvd collection. He had asked her to choose a movie while he grabbed snacks since they finished studying early enough that Nathalie had yet to come to kick her out. She had already gone through a few shelves when she found one that seemed to be hidden in a corner. As she looked closer she noticed the entire shelf was filled with volumes of anime, and the shelf beside it manga.

She couldn’t imagine why it was hidden. Was he ashamed? Adrien had been sheltered most his life and the way he acted, well Marinette was surprised she hadn’t realized sooner. Half his lines felt as though they were picked straight from an anime.

As she heard him approach the door she chose a random horror movie and went to sit down. This gave her a perfect idea.

As Adrien went to a closet collected blankets to sit on, Marinette began brainstorming for the perfect birthday present to incorporate her latest discovery.

————————————————————

By the time September 3 rolled around Marinette was slightly worried she’d gone too far this time. At first, she decided to just design a sweater with a few of the animes she remembered seeing in his collection. But she saw the cutest My Hero Academia beanie while at the shops and just had to remake it. Then came socks, pjs, and a ladybug mug she she happened to pass by.

But any friend would go out of their way to cater to a friends interests right?

“Absolutely not, Marinette.”

“Well thanks Alya.” Marinette huffed while packaging all of the gifts in her room the night before.

“Girl, I think its about time you told him! Its been years and not just anyone spends upwards of 40 hours working on gifts for a ‘friends’ niche interest.” Alya cooed at her from atop of her bed.

“Are you crazy? I just gained enough confidence to be his friend, confessing my love to him is a whole other level I can’t even begin to be ready for!” Realizing how insane it’d look to carry all of these presents to Adrien at once and that all of them being from her might be weird, an idea struck.

“What if I hid them around for him to find from a secret admirer!” Marinette proposed excitedly. “It’d be perfect! I’d be able to see his adorable reactions without feeling embarrassed!”

Alya sighed. “I guess it’s better than you panicking and never giving them to him.” She replied dejectedly.

“Thats the spirit.” Marinette said, taping the last perfectly wrapped gift and joining her friend on the bed. “Now since you’re here you’re obligated to help me plan this.”

“I’m not the one with his schedule memorized.” Alya complained, groaning. “What help am I?”

“Moral support!”

———————————————————

Adrien woke up the next morning to his usual. A lonely breakfast and a report of his schedule from Nathalie. He almost could have been fooled into thinking it was any other day.

“Your father sends his wishes Adrien.” Nathalie said as she walked out of the room.

One thing he could be excited by was school. There there’d hugs and birthday wishes and maybe even a sweet snack from a certain blue eyed girl.

————————

As expected, as he steeped out of the sleek black car (after receiving a small Ladybug action figure from the gorilla) he was practically toppled by Nino.

“Happy birthday bro!” He exclaimed, hugging him tightly.

Adrien smiled fondly at the boy. “Thanks Nino.” He said with a chuckle.

“Hopefully your old man will let me come over after school and I can give you your present then?.” Nino questioned hopeful.

“Sorry, I have fencing after school.” Adrien sighed.

“Can’t you just skip? It is your birthday after all.” Nino whined.

“You know how he is. The world could be ending but as long as I’m on time for my appointments he won’t care.” Adrien replied, walking along with Nino towards the front of the school.

As he approached he saw Alya and Marinette camping out by the entrance.

Once they were in hearing distance Adrien said, “Good news is he allowed me to spend lunch outside the house! I figured we could all spend it at the park.”

Marinette squealed excitedly as she ran to hug him, nearly squishing the pastry box she held in the process.

“What she means by that is happy birthday.” Alya laughed while she waited her turn to hug him.

“Happy birthday Adrien!” Marinette said with a slight blush as she handed him the box.

Inside was what looked to be 5 handmade passion fruit macarons, same as she had given him for the last 2 years. It still managed to warm his heart.

“Thanks guys.” He said hugging Alya and mouthing a thank you to Marinette. “If you have anything for me wait until lunch so it can almost be a real party?”

Everyone nodded in response. “Just us?” Nino asked.

“Preferably.” Adrien said sheepishly.

They all walked together to the lockers, chatting comfortably. Marinette seems a little anxious, for what reason Adrien couldn’t say.

He opened his locker and a small black box tumbled out. He caught it and looked at Nino questioningly.

“Wasn’t me.” He said shrugging. “Looks like a note fell out though.” He picked it up from the floor and handed it to Adrien.

“Happy birthday! Thank you for being a ray of sunshine for everyone.” Adrien read aloud smiling fondly. “It’s not signed?”

“Someone as a secret admirer.” Nino teased. “Now hurry up and open it I’m intrigued!”

“Okay okay.” Adrien said, his smile growing as he saw the contents. Inside was a sweater decorated with a Parasyte theme.

“I didn’t know you liked anime.” Nino said curiously.

“Eh never came up.” Adrien replied. He pulled the jacket over his head and looked down at it. Looking at it now he made a discovery. The jacket looked custom, and he only knew one person capable of such a feat.

“Nino I think Marinette made this!” Adrien exclaimed in a hushed tone. “Why wouldn’t she sign?”

“Maybe she wanted it to be anonymous?” Nino closed his locker and started heading to class.

“Should I tell her I know?” Adrien asked, following close behind.

“Nah she clearly wanted it to be secret, just keep it that way.”

—————-

Marinette was still giddy from that morning. The way Adriens eyes lit up when she handed him the pastry box was only matched by the smile that spread across his face when he pulled the present from his locker.

She decided to give the ladybug mug to him in person, figuring giving him an anime present may give away the identity of his secret admirer.

As she sat behind him in class she couldn’t help but sigh at how nicely the sweater fit him. She could definitely get used to seeing him in her designs.

Suddenly she felt a strong elbow in her side.

“Marinette!” Alya whispered aggressively. “Mademoiselle Bustier has called your name twice already!”

“Here!” Marinette blurted out immediately.

“Yes I’m aware you’re here Marinette. I asked if you could read the next section.”

She heard a small chuckle from Adrien and sheepishly decided to focus on how the jacket fit him another time.

—————————

Marinette had ran into a slight problem after lunch. She had already given Adrien his mug (he squealed in delight when he received it), left the beanie in his locker after lunch (he immediately shoved it on and hadn’t taken it off yet) and planned to hide the socks in his fencing bag after school, but she still had yet to give him the phs.

She ran over his schedule about a thousand times throughout the day and could think of no other opportunity that wouldn’t give away her identity as his secret admirer.

“Isn’t there any way you could leave it at his house?” Alya suggested.

“No his dad’s assistant might say something. I just don’t wanna risk it!” Marinette whined.

Then an idea struck.

“Actually Alya I just remembered something in his schedule that leaves a perfect time.” She fibbed.

——————

Adrien was on cloud nine. All of Marinette’s gifts were perfect. You could tell she put thought into them. She even left little notes with each one.

The beanie came with a note that said ‘Thank you for being the such an amazing friend’ and the socks he received during fencing came with a note that read ‘your smile brightens up my world.’ What a nice thing to say to a friend.

As he went up to his room after an extremely exciting day he opened his door to see a flash of red leave through his open window. He could recognize the sound of that string anywhere.

Ladybug had just been in his room!

He looked around to see if anything was different. On his bed he saw a perfectly wrapped gift. It was wrapped in lavender paper with a pink ribbon.

On top was a note. ‘My heart is forever yours’

Adrien’s heart stopped.

That’s Marinette’s handwriting. Marinette’s decorative paper. Marinette’s methodically wrapped gift.

Still in shock he opened it and it confirmed his suspicions. Inside were Death Note pjs.

Marinette had been anonymously giving him anime gifts all day.

Marinette was Ladybug. Ladybug was his secret admirer.

————————————

As they were leaping across building that evening Chat could tell Ladybug was in a good mood.

“Thanks for the gifts today, Marinette.” The blonde hero mentioned casually.

Ladybug effectively face planted into the ground.

Notes

A little late to the party but here nonetheless.

Also I didnt reread this before posting so if you see any mistakes,,, no you didnt :)

@adrinetteapril