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allastoredeer · 9 months ago

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Me : well maybe it's not that bad?

Me : looking for radioapple art and immediately get hit with big buff Alastor and tiny shorter than in canon Lucifer, Lucifer in a dress getting fucked by Alastor, Lucifer in a dress getting fucked by big buff Alastor, Lucifer who look like 5 yo and 'suave sugar daddy' Alastor who holds him and each with thousands of likes and absolutely zero of anything else than that

Me : nope 🙃😔

Save me Vox/Al artists, save me

Man, I love Vox/Alastor art so much.

I just love the Vox/Alastor ship as a whole, be it one-sided, mutual, or anything in between, and a lot of it stems from Alastor still feeling like he's Alastor.

I mean, I think people make Alastor a little more cruel and heartless towards Vox sometimes, but overall he still feels like himself. He gets to be dangerous and manipulative and he gets to be silly and whimsical. It's perfect.

Adding a cut right here because this post got WAY longer than I anticipated ⬇️

I think with RadioApple, when it comes to Alastor, people lean too much into this:

And not enough into this:

It feels like his fun, sassy, and whimsical side gets stripped away and he's turned into a stereotypically tall, dark and menacing love interest.

Where's his flamboyancy? His razzamatazz! As Susan would say, "Where's the showmanship? Where's the pizzaz? Fucking mediocre."

If I'm reading a fic or looking at art and I can't imagine their Alastor doing one of his girly-pop wrist flicks -

- then I can't keep going. His girly-pop vibes are too important to me.

Of course, when it comes to tone in both fics and art, sometimes fun and whimsical aren't what the artist is going for. But even outside of NSFW art and stories, so often Alastor just feels...bland. He feels too stiff. Too much like a suave, old fashioned, smooth talking gentleman, and not enough like a fun, silly, and sassy little freak who loves trolling people.

And with Lucifer if feels like they lean too much into this:

And not enough of this:

I feel like any, if not all, of Lucifer's flaws are brushed aside so often and so easily.

He feels softened and watered down. Like he's either a sad & awkward UwU boi all the time, or he's the most flamboyant, seductive little minx there is. And to be fair, he is both a very sad boi and a seductive little minx.

But rarely does he ever come across as powerful to me. A lot of the time he feels too normal. Or too sad and naive. Literally, like he could be any other sinner if I didn't already know he was the kind of Hell. And that's so funny to me because we've seen him openly and extravagantly display his powers multiple times in the show--not to the extent that he did in the finale--but he was definitely flaunting all the things he could do, make, or summon for Charlie during his musical-battle with Alastor. He was 100% showing off how powerful he is.

Not only that, but, honestly, Lucifer feels too open and sincere because that man is judgmental as fuck.

Going back to the "Dad Beat Dad" episode, there are multiple examples of him being a self-righteous little shit: 1) he was incredibly critical of Charlie's hotel the moment he stepped inside, even if he tried, and failed, to cover it, 2) he didn't even try to hide his disgust for Alastor's bar, which he didn't even know was incorporated by Alastor (who he hadn't even met him yet) and could've been incorporated by Charlie or Vaggie, for all he knew, 3) he wasn't taking Charlie's hotel or her plan for redemption seriously from the start, he didn't even have his mind open to the possibility, he wasn't there to hear about her plans he was only there to see her, and 3) when the hotel was attacked by the loan sharks, instead of making them go away or preventing the hotel from being damaged - which he could have very easily done with no amount of effort - he hung back and smugly reiterated that he was right and sinners can't be redeemed and Charlie should just give up on her goals/dreams because it's just not possible so there's no point in trying.

Like, Charlie was very clearly in distress over her hotel being attacked and destroyed, but he was too busy boasting about how he'd been "proven" right to see that.

He's very easy to anger and his ego is so easily bruised. Alastor got under his skin immediately and effortlessly - though I also believe that's on part that Lucifer doesn't have a high opinions of sinners anyway - and Lucifer 100% escalated the conversation/argument he had with Alastor during their first meeting.

See the whole scene of him referring to Alastor as a "has-been" and insulting the name he'd given the hotel, especially when you take into consideration that until Alastor said that he named the hotel, Lucifer thought it was Charlie who came up with it.

And I'm not going to say that Alastor was an innocent, picked on little baby in that scene, he was 100% riling up Lucifer from the start, but also, like...Alastor's lines weren't outright antagonist like Lucifer's were. They were more subtle, slightly needling and passive aggressive, but nothing that could really be taken as a insult.

This is literally the dialogue, word for word, of their very first interaction:

Lucifer: What in the unholy Hell is that?!

Alastor: Just some of the renovations we had done. Adds a bit if color, don't you think?

Lucifer: And you are?

Alastor: Alastor, pleasure to be meeting you, Sir, quite a pleasure. It's nice to finally put a face to the name. You are much shorter in real life.

Lucifer: Who is this? Who is this now - are you the bellhop?

Alastor: Ah-ha, no! I am the host of the hotel. You might've heard of me from my radio broadcast.

Lucifer: Hmm, nope! I guess that's why Charlie called it the "has-been" hotel, hahaha!"

Alastor: Ha ha ha, it was actually my idea.

Lucifer: Ha ha, well it's not very clever.

Alastor: Ha ha, fuck you.

Like. That's their first interaction. And if you go back and actually pay attention to facial expressions and body languages, this was the first time he's seen Alastor, and Lucifer was immediately disdainful.

I went back and screenshotted Lucifer's face, right after Alastor's first line (which was a relatively innocent in and of itself and didn't even sound that antagonist), and:

That's a lot of disesteem for someone he literally just met. At most, you could argue that it was Alastor's smirk or tone that set him off ⬇️:

But even that is such a small thing to get upset over.

I'd say the only time Alastor really started getting openly hostile towards Lucifer was when he wiped his hand after shaking Lucifer's cane (which Lucifer didn't even see as he was too busy fixing his hat) and commenting on Lucifer's height (as a shortie myself, can confirm, that'll get on the nerves very fast).

My point is, Lucifer was immediately unfriendly towards Alastor and escalated the situation just as quickly, if not quicker, than Alastor did. Alastor implied that Lucifer might know of his radio broadcast, and Lucifer jumped right to calling him a "has-been." He doesn't even know him. This is their very first meeting. He was judgy and dismissive of Alastor at first sight, and, let's be honest, he kind of threw the first punch with that "has-been" line. Alastor said Lucifer was shorter than expected, but it's not like he laughed, pointed at him and called him a undercooked little chicken nugget. I'm sure a lot of demons/sinners who've never seen Lucifer would also assume he would be taller and more menacing at first glance, and I doubt this is the first time someone was surprised with his height (still not cool, Alastor. We vertically challenged folk have feelings too).

But Lucifer was prejudice from the start and antagonized Alastor just as quickly, and way more openly, than Alastor did to him. And don't get me wrong, this isn't me saying that's a bad thing on Lucifer's part! This isn't me criticizing or scorning him for it. I think it speaks so much of him as a character!

Cause we've seen the soft and tender moments he has with Charlie. We know how much he loves and cares for her. But he's also egotistical, antagonistic, and judgmental as hell, and that's what makes him such a fun character to write about. He's awkward yet showy, smug yet caring, depressed yet prideful. And by god, this man will show off his power without hesitation. He knows he's hot shit. He knows he's the strongest person in all of Hell. He knows he's the top dog and he can do whatever he wants - even if he has no love or interest in interacting within the Pride Ring (as far as we've been shown).

He's got a lot of multi-facets to him and I adore it, and that's why I get so annoyed when all of that is stripped away and he's turned into this soft little sunshine UwU boi who's just a sad, sweet lil lamb who's done no wrong.

No! He has done many wrongs! There's a reason he and Charlie were estranged and I don't think it was Lilith's fault - or, at least, I don't think it was all her fault (I have many thoughts about Lucifer and Lilith's divorce, okay)

I didn't mean for this to turn into a full-blown character analysist post LOL but alas I tend to get carried away. This was all to say, I really enjoy RadioStatic because Alastor typically gets to keep his sadistic and whimsical side, and I appreciate that. His silliness means a lot a to me, and if he comes off as too stiff or formal, it takes me out of a story.

Lucifer's flaws and sheer power also mean a lot to me, and I wish there were more fics and fan-art that showed that. If Lucifer reads too much like a normal, every-day person, I lose interest. I like the idea of people getting used to him, and getting comfortable around his presence, only to get a sudden and overwhelming reminder that he is, in fact, an ancient and immortal being with immense power that their brains wouldn't even be able to comprehend.

I have so many headcanons about Lucifer as a fallen angel and how his habits and lifestyle developed over the thousands upon thousands of years he's been in Hell. Habits he's adopted that unconsciously help him duplicate the mannerisms and behavior of sinners and demons, but also those small, indistinct tells that are quick and subtle reminder that he could destroy everyone in Pentagram City with ease if he decided to; and also, those times if you were to look closely and really pay attention, you get the faint, unsettling feeling that there is something very un-human about him. A subtle, unnerving shiver down your spine as your instincts yell at you that this person is not a person at all, he's just passing off as one.

That shit gets me. Give me ancient, eldritch Lucifer and I'll love you forever.

I am sorry Anon, I did not mean for this response to get so big 😅 You gave me a paragraph and I gave you a novel. But yeah, save me RadioStatic artists, save me 🙏 I rarely have to worry about Alastor turning into a big, buff alpha man or a soft little UwU when he's with Vox, and I appreciate that.

Edit: Adding a screenshot of my tags here because apparently I wrote down too many and it cut off the character tags.

#PHEW #this got way longer than it was supposed to be #also I found out you can only have 30 images max on a post #I had so many more gifs and screenshots to share #but I had to curate them #but yeah #Lucifer's watered down to UwU baby lamb or seductive flamboyant minx #and Alastor is just a big buff alpha male daddy love interest or he's too much of a formal prim and proper cannibal gentleman #you give him back his goddamn wrist flicks OR SO HELP ME #if I read a fic and I can't imagine Alastor doing a sassy little hand gesture then I hightail it out of there #i can't force myself to keep reading #it bothers me too much #it gets messy #and awkward #and weird #its not like your playing with their feelings #anyway #hazbin hotel #alastor #asks #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor the radio demon #vox x alastor #lucifer morningstar #hazbin lucifer #appleradio #radioapple #radiostatic #staticradio

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shakespeareanwannabe · 8 months ago

Text

As You Wish, Chapter 16

Summary: When arriving at Camp Silver Star, Abby Floyd was anticipating a summer of adventure with an ocean separating her from the three people she loved most: her mom, her Uncle Bob and her Aunt Natasha. But after a run in with Charlie Seresin, an extremely familiar looking and irritating camper in a different cabin, her summer plans take a turn that neither girl ever could have expected.

Trigger Warnings: reader's children are described as being blond with green eyes because genetics are wild and Jake's genes are strong, reader is canonically Bob's sister (but biological relation is never discussed), reader goes by Buttercup and is tattooed, references to sex and sexual acts (but nothing is explicit), drinking, longing, reference to divorce, kids doing sneaky things, references to pregnancy and hormones

Jake’s Apartment, Coronado, almost 13 years ago

“Fucking rain,” Jake mumbled, navigating his truck into the closest parking spot he could to the front door of his apartment complex. Beside him, wrapped in a beach towel and soaked to the bone, Buttercup giggled, watching the rain stream down the windshield.

“It’s fine, baby.” She reached over to run a soothing hand through his damp hair. “Not even you can control the weather.”

“Maybe, but I promised you a picnic and now I’m a man who can’t keep his promises.” Jake parked the truck and looked at her. “I never break my promises, Buttercup.”

“Shh, baby, I know,” she grinned at him, gently running her nails over his scalp and the back of his neck. “But nothing says we can’t have a picnic in your apartment.”

“With what food?” Most of the food he had prepared had been opened and gotten rained on when dark clouds had moved surprisingly quickly over the ocean and released their downpour upon the unsuspecting beachgoers. “The only thing that didn’t get ruined is dessert.”

“So?” Buttercup giggled at his forlorn expression. “Our little ones are kinda craving one of Daddy’s grilled cheese sandwiches now anyway.”

At that, Jake’s expression melted. He still couldn’t believe it. Twins. He was gonna be a dad to twins, and what was even better? His Buttercup was their mom. They had found out less than a month ago, and yet everything had changed. All his extra cash was going towards finding a house for them, save for the money he had tucked away for this special occasion. He’d put in all the necessary paperwork with the top brass so that they could do their damndest not to deploy him around her due date and afterwards. Jake Seresin had never thought about being a father, but now that it was happening, he was going to do everything in his power to be the best father he possibly could be to the two little lives he and Buttercup were bringing into the world.

“Alright,” he sighed, reaching down to grab the umbrella he had stashed there. “I suppose I can do that for Mama and our nuggets.”

“Mama and our nuggets thank you, Daddy,” she grinned, moving to open her door.

“Wait, wait,” he huffed, sliding out of his truck and racing over to her side to open her door, popping the umbrella open so that she wouldn’t get any wetter than she already was. “There. Now, let’s get inside before you melt, sugar.”

Buttercup groaned. “That was terrible, baby.”

“What? I’m gonna be a dad. I’m allowed to make dad jokes.” Even six months ago, he wouldn’t have been caught dead making lame jokes like Rooster or Payback, but Buttercup really had changed him.

Shaking her head, Buttercup grabbed the picnic basket and followed him into the apartment complex, leaning into his side as they rode the elevator up to his floor.

Once safe inside, both raced to get changed. Buttercup grabbed one of Jake’s Navy T-shirts and a pair of his gym shorts before going into the bathroom to change and fix her hair. Once the door closed completely, Jake took the small velvet box out of his jeans pocket and put it safely on the dresser before changing into a pair of grey sweatpants and a gym tank, then safely tucked the box into his pocket again.

“Darlin’, I’m gonna go get started on those sandwiches!” he called.

“Wait!” Buttercup emerged, looking playfully disappointed in him. “House rules, baby. You need me with you.”

He grinned and wiggled his fingers at her. “C’mon then. Those babies aren’t gonna wait all day.”

Buttercup followed him into the kitchen where he gently lifted her onto the countertop next to the stove. He kissed her once, twice, then bent to kiss the barely there bump of her abdomen, before gathering all the necessary materials to make grilled cheese.

As he cooked, they talked. About everything. The babies, work, her brother, his family, their friends. Jake couldn’t remember a time he had talked so much, laughed so much. He’d always reveled in his solitude, excepting maybe Javy, who had been with him for so long that he wasn’t an intrusion to his peace. But Buttercup made him crave her presence. He could barely make it through a day without her, and he had no clue how he would manage when he was deployed again. He wanted to be around her always, which was partially why he had that velvet box in his pocket.

Jake plated up the sandwiches and, before he could warn her, she had scooped one up and taken a big bite.

“Hot!” she screeched. “Hot, hot, hot!”

Jake couldn’t help but laugh. “Every time, darlin’. You do it every time.” He waved his hand in front of her mouth, wafting away the steam.

“And every time it’s worth it,” she grinned at him, and he felt something shift in his stomach.

“Oh yeah? What else is worth it?”

She tilted her head quizzically but shrugged. “Taking showers with you even though it takes us twice as long to get ready. Getting up with you at freaking balls a.m. so you can head to early morning flight exercises, just so I can get my morning kiss and see you before you leave for the day. Putting up with your stubborn, arrogant ass because that stubborn, arrogant ass is so damn fine.” She giggled as she spanked him lightly. “I don’t know, Jake. Everything about you and me feels pretty damn worth it.”

He swallowed down his nerves, his stomach feeling as thought he had just hit Mach speed. “Yeah? So worth it that you might want to do it forever?”

Buttercup blinked at him, tears welling in her eyes. “Are you asking?”

Hand slightly shaking, Jake pulled the velvet blue box out of his pocket and held it at her eye level. “Buttercup, I think I’ve loved you since the moment you tapped me out at the 32nd Street Naval Station four months ago. Ever since that day, you’ve made me a better man. I’m a better teammate because you taught me how to deal with people and put my ego aside. I’m a better aviator because I want to come home to you. I’m a better friend because you’ve shown me what true friendship is. And I hope I’ve become a man who deserves you not only now, but 50 years in the future when we’re both old and grey. I’m not asking you this because you’re carrying my babies. I’m asking you this because I want to spend the rest of my life making you as happy as you make me. So, darlin’, do you think it would be worth it to marry me?”

To her credit, Buttercup didn’t even look down at the glimmering diamond ring shining in the box. No, her tear-filled eyes were trained solely on him, filled with love and wonder.

“Yeah, baby,” her voice trembled. “I think marrying you, Jake Seresin, would be so worth it.”

Jake laughed, fighting back the tears that were threatening to fall. Now wasn’t the time to cry. “As you wish, darlin’.” Jake pulled the ring out of the box and fitted it onto her finger with a deep kiss, everything else fading away.

Seresin Ranch, Clifton, Texas, Now

“You want to go back?” Buttercup couldn’t keep the panic from her voice. She’d been relieved beyond a shadow of a doubt when she had discovered that Jake had retired from the Navy, that Charlie had her dad home with her 24/7/365. But he wanted to go back? She shook her head. She should have known better than to trust that he was home for good. Jake loved flying, more than anything else in the world. He only gave it up because Charlie was a baby. Now that she was older, he could go back.

“Buttercup, please…”

“Why didn’t you tell me that you wanted to go back?” she asked sharply, finally turning around to meet his stare.

Jake felt a flame alight in his chest and he shot back, “I didn’t think I owed you an explanation.”

Buttercup blinked, shrinking back from him slightly to lean against the counter. “You’re right…” she whispered. “After the divorce, you don’t owe me anything. We only owe everything to our children. Do they know?”

Jake sighed, rubbing his forehead with the back of his hand. “No, they don’t know. Nobody knows.”

Buttercup’s chest felt like it was going to cave in, though from grief or anger, she wasn’t sure. “Right…great…”

Jake took off his baseball cap and fiddled with the brim in an uncharacteristic moment of vulnerability. “Look, I didn’t mean what I said. You deserve an explanation, I just…” his voice trailed off, and Buttercup suddenly had a vision of a teenage Jake, trying and failing to get himself out of trouble with his parents. She wasn’t used to fumbling, nervous Jake. She was more used to brash, bold, arrogant Hangman. She had fallen for both sides of him, but now the shyer, quieter side of him was just in her way.

“Just what?” Buttercup tapped her foot impatiently. “You just didn’t want to tell me? You just didn’t think I’d care?”

“I never thought you’d find out!” he nearly growled, slamming his hat down on the counter and stepping towards her, not as an intimidation tactic, she realized, but so that she could see the earnestness in his eyes. “Yes, I put some feelers out to see what it would take to go back in six years. Why? Because in six years, Charlie plans to go to California to study veterinary medicine. When Charlie graduates high school, Rooster is planning on moving to Austin and opening his own restaurant. Javy’s already got college recruiters sniffing around. Not the players, but him. They want him to go coach college level ball if the Cougars keep doing well, which they will because he’s a damn good coach. Louisiana State is keeping their eye on him, and he’s pretty keen on going. Within six years, this place is gonna be empty, and it sure doesn’t need me to run it. Cathy and Cliff, our ranch managers, do a better job of running the joint than I ever could. All they need me for is signing the checks.” Jake’s chest heaved. “You’re across an ocean giving TED Talks and having your books turned into movies, and I’m sitting here on my ass, twiddling my thumbs. Flying is the only thing I could see myself doing again, so when I met General Beaumont on the golf course, I mentioned it to him. He told me to talk it out with his daughter, Savannah, and that if she thought I was worth his time, he might be willing to pull some strings and get me back in.” Jake’s eyes were wide, almost begging her to understand. “I don’t regret retiring when I did. I’d do it again in a heartbeat. Hell, I’d do it sooner if I thought it meant keeping our family together. But now…I don’t know, sweetheart, when I was faced with the prospect of being an empty nester, I panicked. I don’t know if I want to go back or what I’ll do in six years, but I didn’t want you to find out until I was sure, and I sure as hell didn’t want you to find out through Simpson.” Jake met her gaze, the forest green sparkling as they revealed to her how sincere he was being. “Can you say something? Please?” he murmured, taking a step closer.

“I…”

“Mum? Dad?”

Buttercup nearly groaned in relief. Jake had just laid everything bare at her feet, and she didn’t know how to respond, though she knew that she had to, so Abby’s interruption was a welcome relief.

“Yeah, babe?” she called back, peeking around Jake’s shoulder to see her daughter standing at the French doors, Charlie a few feet behind her.

“We want to go in the pool again, but Reuben and Maryanne said we needed to ask you for permission first.”

Buttercup sighed, but it was Jake who responded. “Sure thing, kiddo. I’ll be right there to watch you.”

Abby nodded, peering at them suspiciously before closing the doors behind her.

“Jake, I—��

“It’s alright, Buttercup,” his grin wasn’t as wide or as bright as it had been in the recent days. “Just promise me we can talk about this later?” She couldn’t help but nod. “Alright. Thank you. I’ll go keep an eye on the kids, okay?”

She nodded, unable to meet his eyes. “I’ll clean up the mess we made so that nobody slips and breaks their neck.”

“Thank you.” He nodded and left, swinging the double doors closed behind him as Buttercup grabbed a towel and crouched behind the island.

Her mind was spinning, and she forced herself to take a few calming breaths, just like her yoga instructor always told them. Jake wanted to go back to the Navy…but he didn’t. He said that he would’ve gotten out of the Navy earlier if it would have kept their family together, but he hadn’t. He didn’t seem to know what he wanted, and who could blame him? They’d been forced into this situation by two blackmailing almost-12-year-old girls. It wasn’t like he had looked her up or she had searched for him. Perhaps if they had sought each other out, it would feel different, but, as it was, she didn’t know how to feel either.

Buttercup sighed and continued mopping up the remnants of their water war when she heard the double doors click open.

“…would you just slow down and talk to me?” That was Javy’s voice, more desperate than she had ever heard him.

“Talk to you about what?” Natasha’s voice was a mere hiss.

“This! Us! How you can’t even look me in the eye? How you’re so angry I’m a little surprised there’s not legit steam coming out of your ears right now? Take your pick!”

Natasha growled in frustration. “Of course, I’m angry! You fucking proposed to me while I was lying, half blind in a hospital bed!”

“I was trying to show you that I was all in!” Javy huffed. “Your career was coming to an end, we’d talked before about how scared we both were of something bad happening, and I wanted to show you that I’d stick with you, no matter what!”

Natasha scoffed. “We’d only been hooking up for like three months! What made you think that asking me to marry you was a good idea?”

Javy was quiet for a moment. “Is that all it was to you? Hooking up?”

Buttercup heard the telltale sound of Natasha’s feet shuffling on the hardwood. “Well…yeah? Because that’s what it was, right?”

Javy loosed a scornful chuckle. “Wow…sure, Phoenix. If that’s what you want to call it, then fine. We were only hooking up.”

Natasha scoffed again. “Well, what would you call it? We never went out.”

“Because we were always going out as a group.”

“Well, we never said we were exclusive.”

Buttercup could practically hear Javy roll his eyes. “We spent every moment of every day together, Phoenix. I’d say that’s pretty exclusive. And I never saw you take anyone else home with you on our night’s out.”

“What? Were you stalking me, you creep?”

“I noticed everything you did because I was so fucking in love with you that I couldn’t stand it!” Javy shouted. “And I was clearly an idiot for thinking that we were on the same page!”

Phoenix’s breath stuttered in the silence. “Y-yeah, well…if you loved me so damn much, then why did you disappear after I turned you down?”

“Oh, forgive me for taking a few days to lick my wounds,” Javy’s sarcasm bit into the air the way the floorboards were biting into Buttercup’s knees and palms. If they didn’t quit arguing soon, she was going to need to stand, and that would just lead to more questions that she didn’t have the emotional bandwidth to answer. “You said no, screamed at me to fuck off, and went AWOL the second they discharged you. You didn’t even come to Mav’s funeral. I got the message loud and clear that you wanted nothing to do with me. Besides, Jake needed a hand with Charlie, so I followed him back here, just like you followed Buttercup to London.”

Natasha went quiet for a moment before murmuring. “Bob brought me to London. I wasn’t doing too hot on my own, depressed and shit after the accident, and Bob got worried, so he dragged me to London with them. Got me and Buttercup help and helped take care of Abby.” Natasha sniffed. “I woulda called once I was feeling better, but I figured you hated me, so I never bothered.”

Javy sighed. “I get it. We can’t change the past…but do you think you can stop biting my head off?”

“Yeah…okay.”

“Thank you…” Javy’s flipflops squeaked against the floor as he started for the door. “And Buttercup, you can get up now. Jake and the girls are looking for you.” The doors clicked shut and Natasha sighed before leaning around the island and leaning down to offer her friend a hand.

It was a testament to their friendship that Natasha didn’t comment on her predicament, instead opting to ask, “You good?”

Buttercup sighed as she stretched to her full height. “No. You?”

Natasha sighed and grabbed a beer. “Fuck no. Now c’mon. Your girls want s’mores.”

Despite the earlier argument, Buttercup’s sides hurt from laughing and her cheeks hurt from smiling by the time the sun started to set, bringing with it a rain shower that sent them all running into the living room. Hondo and Cyclone bowed out then, as did Penny and Amelia, both duos having early flights home in the morning. Payback and Maryanne ushered Richard and their daughter, Peggy, back to their cabin not long after, both kids yawning their protest as their parents bade their friends goodnight.

Rooster had drifted over to the piano at some point and was playing a soothing melody that matched the peaceful ambiance of the room. Javy and Buttercup were chatting quietly in the corner, while Jake, Fanboy and Natasha had convened on the couch.

Charlie and Abby were flaked out on the floor, watching the rain lash at the windows. Things had been weird ever since their dad had come back outside to watch them in the pool. He’d seemed quieter than normal, maybe even a bit sad, and when their mom had come out, she’d acted the same way. Now, they were in separate corners of the room, and that just wouldn’t do.

Charlie elbowed her sister lightly and nodded over at Rooster. The message was clear: Follow my lead.

“Hey, Uncle Roo…”

Rooster gazed at them over the rims over his glasses. “What do you want?” It wasn’t said unkindly, but it was said in a tone that screamed, “I know you want something so spit it out”.

“What was that song you used to play to help me sleep?” Charlie smiled sweetly.

“Why?” Rooster furrowed his brows at her.

“Well…you used to play it at the Hard Deck, right?”

Rooster nodded and Abby jumped in. “Don’t you think it would be fun if you played it right now? Y’know, for old times sake?”

Rooster’s gaze flitted between them. “Whatever scheme you two are trying to pull, I ain’t buying it.”

“No scheme!” they chorused, fingers crossed behind their backs. “We just thought it would be a nice way to end the evening.”

Rooster rolled his eyes and shifted his fingers, not believing them for one second, but they were his nieces and he was their uncle. If he wasn’t willing to do stupid shit for them, who was he supposed to do it for?

He banged out a few notes with practiced ease and started to sing. “You shake my nerves, and you rattle my brain!”

The adults immediately perked up, Javy cheering as Natasha and Fanboy started to sing along. Charlie and Abby raced to the carpet, dancing to the playful melody. As they twisted in each other’s arms, they could see their father peering hopefully in their mother’s direction, but she kept her eyes resolutely on her daughters. That is until a few beats later, when Buttercup glanced over at Jake, who was cheering along with Natasha and Javy. The girls sighed again as the song began to fade to an end too soon, but Rooster clearly had the same idea they did. He finished Great Balls of Fire with a bang before transitioning into something quieter, more romantic.

Javy and Fanboy “oooohed” loudly while Natasha shot Rooster a knowing look before elbowing Jake in the ribs.

Chuckling to himself, Jake stood and strode over to Buttercup, holding his hand out to her. “C’mon darlin’,” they heard him murmur before pulling their mother to her feet. “For old times sake.”

Buttercup found herself folding into Jake’s embrace like she had never left it. They’d always fit together like two puzzle pieces, his hand feeling at home at the base of her spine and her head fitting perfectly into the space between his neck and shoulder. His breath in her ear was the white noise she had been missing from her life, and tears welled unbidden in her eyes. This is what she had always wanted for herself. A sweet man (stubborn and arrogant as all hell, but kind in his soul and always towards her), children she adored, friends who were more like family, a career she loved. She’d had it all and thrown it away, and now she was getting a taste of what life might have been like if she’d been able to keep herself together.

She felt so safe in his arms. She always had; from the moment they had met. Even when everyone around her was telling her she was moving too fast with him, it had never occurred to her to slow down or stop. She’d felt safer with him than she ever had in her life and knew he would never hurt her. And to his credit, he never had. She’d gotten pregnant so quickly and he had never balked, never once taken a step back to consider things. He had only embraced her, proposed to her, planned their life together…and she had thrown it all away. She had been the one to hurt him. And now he was holding her so tight, like she was the most precious thing in his life, so willing to open himself up to be hurt again. It made her chest ache with longing to just take that step and let herself be safe with him again. But how could she? They wouldn’t be the only ones to get hurt this time. The girls…how could she be selfish and risk potentially hurting them?

She sighed and burrowed her face into his shoulder as they swayed, feeling him tighten his grip around her waist. She could allow herself a moment of selfishness. One dance wouldn’t hurt anyone.

Damn Rooster, Buttercup thought to herself as she tossed and turned in her bed later that night. He had just had to go and play the song they had danced to on their wedding night. It hadn’t even been a song they had picked; it was just the first slow song that had played at the bar they had gone to after Elvis had declared them married. Now she was too keyed up to sleep. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Jake holding his hand out to her, asking her to dance. His face, his eyes, his smile all haunted her as she tried to rest.

They had been so happy when they got married, despite it being a shotgun wedding in Vegas. She’d been so elated to be Mrs. Seresin that she had practically floated around for weeks after. But then reality just had to set back in, and with it came deployments and work and arguments and baby appointments and then her post-partum depression, and it had fallen apart as quickly as they had built it.

Buttercup rolled over again with a groan and thumped her pillow. She was just making herself upset. She needed to calm down. Perhaps she had been in England for too long, but she felt the need for a cup of tea. Tea was good. Tea was soothing. Tea would send her to dreamland where she wouldn’t bemoan all the mistakes she had made with her ex-husband.

Buttercup slid out of bed and slipped on her slippers before treading quietly out of the room and down the stairs to the kitchen, where a dim light was shining. Peeking her head in, she saw Jake rummaging around in the fridge.

“Oh,” she murmured before she could stop herself. Without Nat and Maryanne there to bust her chops about it, she could admit that she was enjoying the view of his bare sculpted torso, his ass and thighs clad in a pair of gym shorts. He hadn’t changed much in the last decade. He still had the chiseled muscles and toned arms and legs. Perhaps he was a touch softer in places from age, but Buttercup certainly wasn’t complaining. It looked good on him.

“Hey Buttercup,” Jake greeted softly, well aware that it was 3 a.m. and the rest of the house was sleeping. His eyes roamed over her softly, taking in the oversized T-shirt and boxer shorts she wore, and he gulped. How was it possible that she looked better in this sleep ensemble than she had in her bikini? That wasn’t how that was supposed to work, and yet, for her, it did. “Couldn’t sleep?”

She shook her head, crossing her arms over her torso, all too aware that she was bare under her shirt and that parts of her sagged more than they did 12 years ago. “I was gonna make myself a cup of tea.”

A chuckle escaped Jake’s lips unbidden. “You sound like a real Brit, you know that?”

She felt blood rush to her cheeks in embarrassment, but shrugged and said, “I’ve been there for over a decade, Jake. Besides, if there’s one thing that the Brit’s have gotten right, it’s that tea really does cure everything. Insomnia, bad news, a bad day, heartbreak, awkward run-ins with an ex.”

Jake nodded slowly, a small understanding smile creeping onto his lips. “I’m having a bit of insomnia myself, but I was going to use the good ol’Hangman cure instead of tea.” He showed her the stack of cheese, butter, and sliced turkey that he had gathered in his arms. “Care to join me?” He laid the products on the counter and pulled a fresh loaf of bread towards him while Buttercup stared, mouth watering. “Buttercup?” He grinned at the look on her face.

“I haven’t had a grilled cheese in…well, probably since you made one for me,” she admitted in a quiet voice, remembering how his sandwiches were one of the things she had craved most while pregnant.

“Well, now that just won’t do.” His smile was teasing as he nodded his head towards the countertop. “Why don’t you take a seat and keep me company while the master gets to work?” Buttercup moved towards one of the island stools, but Jake shook his head. “C’mon now, darlin’, you know the rules.” He patted a bare patch of countertop space next to the stove. “Gotta have you close to keep me company.”

She felt her skin go hot to the touch with hesitancy and embarrassment. “Jake…don’t you think we’re both a little old to be sitting on countertops?”

Jake looked at her with fond exasperation and patted the countertop again. “There’s nothing old about us, darlin’. Besides, you don’t want me burning our sandwiches because I keep turning around to talk to you, do you?”

“Easy fix. Don’t turn around to talk to me.” She leaned against the island and watched him roll his eyes at her, trying to figure out how to get his way. Beautiful, stubborn pain in the ass.

“How am I supposed to do that when you’re so damn beautiful in my old Top Gun shirt?” he smirked, recognizing the logo now that she wasn’t cloaked in shadow. Buttercup could have sworn her heart stopped. She hadn’t even realized that it was his old shirt. At some point in their marriage, it had become her shirt and she had never stopped using it. Not that she would admit that to him. Nor would she admit that, in the early days of being divorced, she would wear it to sleep just to feel like he was wrapped around her.

He stepped closer and held his hand out to her. “C’mon, darlin’. I don’t bite.” He gently led her to the countertop and wrapped his hands around her waist, lifting her to perch on the edge of the marble. “There. Perfect,” he murmured, those green eyes of his tracing over the plains of her face with a small, sweet grin pulling on his lips.

“Jake…” she felt like her insides were on fire, and she didn’t know if she was calling for him to put out the fire or fan it to make it hotter, brighter.

“It’s okay, darlin’.” His voice was soft and honeyed, so unlike the voice he used with his friends and family. That was a voice that had always been reserved just for her. “Relax with me, just for an hour.”

Damn her inability to say no to him. “Get to work, Masterchef.”

His grin lit up his whole face and he took a step to the left to be standing in front of the stove again. In easy, quick movements, he had six slices of fresh sourdough bread spread out on the stovetop, buttered on one side and waiting to be assembled. Buttercup couldn’t help her giggle when she realized he was using cheap plastic wrapped cheese slices, and he flashed her a grin.

“C’mon now, Buttercup,” he admonished, his long fingers deftly unwrapping the cheese. “You know this shit melts better than anything else.”

“I know,” she giggled. “It’s just funny for me to think that you’re running this million-dollar enterprise of a ranch, I’m an award-winning novelist, and we’re eating the cheapest cheese imaginable.”

He grinned, turning a dial on the stove and pulling down a frying pan from the rack overhead. “How do you know it’s a million-dollar enterprise, Buttercup? I never told you that.”

She shrugged, watching him put the first slice of bread in the pan, then a slice of cheese, two thin slices of turkey, another slice of cheese, and then another slice of bread. Quickly, the smell of burning butter and toasting bread had her stomach growling. “I may have looked it up. The girls told me you lived on a ranch, but I wasn’t expecting something so grand, so I figured you had to be making a lot. I’m an author. I’m curious about the facts. Sue me.”

He chuckled, flipping the first sandwich over and listening to it sizzle. “I would’ve told you if you asked.”

“I know. I didn’t want to sound like some sort of gold digger.”

“Is it possible to be a gold digger if you’re already divorced?”

She shrugged, eyes tracing his flexing muscles as he flipped the sandwich again. “You might’ve thought I was after child support or alimony or something stupid like that.”

“Nah, I know we’re pretty even keel on finances anyway.” He flipped the sandwich once more and murmured softly, “Grab me a plate from the cabinet behind you?”

Buttercup hopped out of her seat and opened the cabinet, grabbing a plate and holding it out for him to place the sandwich on. “You want a beer?”

Jake nodded absentmindedly as she moved behind him, a gentle hand on his back so he wouldn’t back up into her. She grabbed ketchup and a beer out of the fridge before strolling back to his side and hopping back up onto the counter. The second sandwich was sizzling away when Jake sighed contentedly. “When was the last time we did this?” he murmured, eyes casting sideways to look at her, so damn beautiful in the dim light.

“3 a.m. grilled cheeses and beer?” She held the beer out and he twisted the cap off, tossing it to the side before taking a sip and handing it back. “Jesus…” She cast her mind back, sorting through all their memories, the gleeful and the painful. “Probably when I was pregnant. Before you got deployed.”

He remembered then, the night before he got the news that he was deploying while she was pregnant. She’d woken up in the middle of the night, absolutely ravenous for both him and food. After satiating her first need in bed, they had wandered into the kitchen of their brand-new house together, where she had perched on the countertop in just his t-shirt and watched him make grilled cheese sandwiches in just his boxer-briefs. He’d sipped on a beer while she drank Ginger Ale and they laughed and talked and ate and, when they were done the sandwiches, he had taken her again over the kitchen table before they had stumbled back to the bedroom, satisfied and deliriously happy.

A wistful ache bloomed in Jake’s chest at the memory. He absentmindedly rubbed at it as he plated up the second sandwich and started on the third. “That was a good night,” he sighed. “I’m glad we had that before it all went to shit.”

Buttercup sipped their beer and nodded. “Me too.” At the time, she’d been convinced that they could live in that happy bubble for the rest of their lives. She knew better now. “It wasn’t all bad after though, was it?” She handed him the beer again.

Jake sipped thoughtfully. “No…I guess it wasn’t. We had me coming home, the twins being born, and a few good months before…” He couldn’t bring himself to say it, so passed the beer bottle back to her. “But that was the beginning of the end.”

Buttercup sighed. “I don’t think so.”

“You don’t?”

She shrugged. “Saying it like that makes it sound like an inevitability. I don’t think it was. If I had just kept my shit together, we probably would’ve made it.”

“It wasn’t all your fault though, Buttercup.” Jake took the beer bottle and drained it in one gulp, but it tasted like ash in his mouth. “I was an asshole. I expected you to just follow me wherever I ended up, and that wasn’t fair. You were right. You deserved to be able to follow your dreams too, and the kids needed more stability than that. I just didn’t want to admit it because that would mean admitting that the way I grew up wasn’t ideal. It was all I knew, and I was a stubborn jackass for not admitting that I was wrong.” Jake saw her gaping at him out of his peripheral and laughed. “Javy forced me to go to therapy after about six months of me trying to strong arm my way through the whole single dad thing.” He shrugged and plated up the final sandwich, clicking off the stove and turning to face her. “Who knew?”

She chuckled under her breath. “Who knew…” She picked up the fresh sandwich and took a bite.

“Careful, it’s gonna be—” Buttercup muttered a muffled curse around the bite of bread and cheese, steam billowing from her mouth. “Hot.” He couldn’t help the laughter that poured out of him. “Some things never change.” He started fanning his hand over her mouth as she chewed on the sandwich. She had never been able to resist taking a bite too soon after the sandwiches came off the stove.

“I’m okay…” Buttercup gasped as she swallowed the steaming sandwich. Jake was still laughing, the sound reverberating in her chest like the sweetest bell.

“Was it at least worth it?” he grinned, picking up one of the cooler sandwiches and leaning against the counter beside her, so close her legs were brushing his.

“You’re still the master,” she mumbled through a full mouth, bringing a bright smile to his face. “Don’t tell Rooster I said that, though.”

Jake rolled his eyes and bit into his sandwich. “Bastard would probably put grilled cheese on the menu of his restaurant just to spite me.”

“Doesn’t mean it would be as good as yours though. Nothing beats a Hangman grilled cheese and beer at 3:30 in the morning.” His answering grin was strained slightly, and she swallowed, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Jake, I’m sorry I went off on you about wanting to rejoin the Navy. It was none of my business.” As loathe as she was to admit it, it was true. It wasn’t any of her business because they weren’t together.

But Jake was already shaking his head, hand covering his mouth as he spoke through a mouthful of sandwich. “No, you were right.” He swallowed and gave her a wan grin. “You deserved to know, even if nothing was going to come out of it. You deserve to know where your daughters’ father is, even if…if we’re not together.” He had to fight back the words he truly wanted to say: Even if we’re not going to get back together.

The thought had been on his mind ever since he saw her drinking at the pool cabana, Savannah be damned. Seeing her had been a shock to his system, in the way that a defibrillator shocks your heart into working properly. And now, after a week of being in close quarters, he didn’t want it to end. He felt good around her. Better than he had in over a decade. He was happier, the girls were happier. Family dinners and pool parties and Friday night football games had all become brighter, more meaningful moments in his week. He genuinely liked being at home, working on the ranch, co-coaching with Javy when she was around. All the dull, mundane aspects of his life had taken on new meaning with his Buttercup around, but she hadn’t given him any sign that she wanted it too.

“I get why you would want to…” Buttercup tore the last sandwich in two and handed him the bigger half. “It’s not easy to think about life six years from now, when the girls will be off to college or university or whatever they want to do with their lives. But you’re more than just an aviator, or a rancher, or a football coach. You’re more than just a father too. I wish…” Buttercup swallowed nervously, but pressed on, needing him to hear her since she hadn’t been brave enough to say the words 12 years ago. “I wish you could see what I see, Jake. Beyond the stubbornness and prickish vibe you like to give off, I wish you could see the kindness. The way you care about people makes them care about you, respect you. You inspire loyalty and you make people want to follow their own dreams by showing them what bravery looks like. I…I never would have published my first book without everything I learned from you about going after what I want. I just…” She pushed past the tears clogging her throat. “I just wish that going after what I wanted hadn’t cost me you.”

Jake was there in an instant, cupping her cheeks and wiping away the few tears that had started to fall. “Hey, hey…shh, darlin’, you’re alright. You…” He sighed and let his hand slip down to rest on her neck, feeling her pulse quicken beneath his thumb. “You’re so much more than a mother, than my wife. I wish I had been able to see it, admit it, before it cost me you. If I had just pulled my head outta my ass, then maybe…maybe we’d still be together.”

Shaky hands landed on his shoulders as she rested her forehead against his. “Falling apart wasn’t inevitable…we both fucked it up. I really wish we hadn’t.”

He shifted, heartbeat quickening as his nose brushed hers. “Buttercup…” He could feel the heat of her skin under his palms, the way her heart was racing, the soft floral scent of her perfume toying with his nose, and it was overwhelming in the best way possible.

“Jake…” Her fingers toyed with the short blonde strands at the back of his neck as he pressed her closer to the cabinet, his hand dropping from her neck to her waist to tug her closer.

“Are you sure?” he whispered, nuzzling along her nose and breathing in that floral scent that had always driven him mad.

Buttercup opened her eyes slightly, taking in his golden skin and green eyes and everything that she had missed so deeply. She knew he was giving her an out, letting her walk away and protect herself, but she wanted to continue being selfish. Just for a few more minutes.

“Kiss me before we’re interrupted again, Seresin.”

A low groan rumbled through his chest as he lurched forward, lips clashing against hers in a desperate, needy thing. Years of missing her and a solid week of pent-up passion consumed him as his arm around her waist tightened, dragging her so close there wasn’t space for even air between them.

Buttercup gasped at the feel of him against her, every inch of his hard body against the softness of hers. Jake took advantage, slipping his tongue into her mouth and nearly groaning at the warmth and taste of her. Buttercup tugged his hair lightly, maneuvering his head so she could kiss him harder, deeper. His hand left her cheek and pressed against the cabinet to balance them both.

Desperation and longing and frustration poured off of them in waves as they clutched each other closer, kissed deeper, hands roaming. Buttercup couldn’t help herself as she traced a hand down his chest and abs, a thrill running through her as she touched what she had been admiring all day. Jake’s hand was just creeping beneath her shirt when she pulled away with a gasp.

“Fuck,” Jake groaned, hand on her waist pressing her closer again. “Sorry…”

“Don’t be,” she mumbled against his lips, sneaking in a small kiss before pulling away again. “Just…don’t want anyone to catch us.”

Jake moaned at the very thought and, in one move, had her bundled in his arms, her arms and legs wrapped around him as he kissed her again and carried her down the hallway to his bedroom.

Buttercup didn’t let herself think beyond one fleeting thought as Jake’s bedroom door swung closed behind them. One night of selfishness wouldn’t hurt anyone.

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thebunnednun · 30 days ago

Text

Toast 7.

Pairing: Aged up!ProHero!Katsuki Bakugou x Ex!Pro hero!Reader x Best friend!Pro Hero!Hitoshi Shinsou

Chapter 7: Jealous?

Asuna makes a full recovery, You and Katsuki almost bridge a gap, Aizawa loves you like a daughter, And Hitoshi proposes by accident! :D In front of Katsuki....

Songs:

Rose of my Heart, by Johnny Cash Daddy lessons, Beyonce We don't talk anymore Charlie Puth Take Care, Rihanna

The ambulance jostled gently along the road, your mind raced with a whirlwind of confusion and concern.

Asuna lay on the gurney, her breathing shallow but steady under the care of the EMTs, who had just secured an oxygen mask over her face. Eri sat nearby, her still hand tightly gripping Asuna’s, her wide, worried eyes darting between you and the paramedics.

You reached out, your fingers brushing through Asuna's scalp in a soothing motion. The strands felt cool under your touch, a stark contrast to the heat of your own anxiety. Asuna's jacket was slightly disheveled, and without thinking, you gently opened it to adjust it. That’s when a strange detail caught your attention—

This wasn’t the clothing you had sent her to school in.

Your eyes flicked to Eri, who was now wearing the coat you distinctly remembered sending Asuna off with this morning.

A sinking feeling settled in your chest but you didn’t understand. Why would they switch jackets? The thought gnawed at the edges of your mind, but you pushed it aside, not wanting to overwhelm Asuna or yourself with unnecessary questions just yet. Still, the 20-year-old’s face, framed by loose white strands, showed a hint of guilt, a subtle but telling expression that only deepened the knot in your stomach.

As you adjusted the unfamiliar coat on Asuna, your fingers brushed against something in the pocket. A small, rigid shape pressed against the fabric, catching your attention. Without much thought, you slipped your hand inside and pulled out the object—a small pack of sugar almonds, the kind that was likely warm at some point but had since cooled.

You stared at the package in confusion, the crinkling plastic loud in the quiet of the ambulance. A hundred questions bloomed in your mind. Who bought these? Did Asuna get them herself? Did Rumi? None of it made sense, and the perplexing nature of such a mundane item sent your thoughts spiraling further.

Your mind, already frayed from the tension, circled back to another oddity—the tracker bracelet.

It had been in your jacket pocket earlier, a place it had no reason to be. Had you accidentally left it there? Had it somehow ended up in the wash, tossed in with the laundry? The very idea seemed absurd, yet you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was amiss.

Eri’s soft voice pulled you back to the present, her calm responses to the EMTs' questions contrasting the chaotic storm in your head. She spoke with a clarity that surprised you, recounting the events leading up to the asthma attack, filling in the gaps that you couldn't.

As if she had been there all along.

The ambulance continued its steady journey, and you sat back, clutching the small pack of almonds, the weight of it far heavier than it should have been. You felt like you were on the brink of understanding something crucial, something just out of reach, but for now, you had to focus on Asuna.

Your questions could wait—at least until she was safe.

The rhythmic hum of the ambulance was the only consistent sound as you sat, tense and vigilant, by Asuna's side. Elle sat nearby, tapping away on her phone, her usually sharp and composed demeanor softened by the worry etched on her face. She squinted at the screen, reading through a message before her lips curved into a small, relieved smile.

"Mirko is taking over the rest of your shift, according to Mina and Headquarters," Elle said, turning the screen toward you. The message, wrapped in Mina's signature pink bubbles, was a short reassurance that things were handled on the work front. The sight of it brought a small, weary smile to your lips, though your head throbbed with a tension that felt like an exercise band stretched far too tight around your temples.

Sighing, you rubbed your temples, the faint pulse of your headache stubbornly lingering. "I’ll have to get her an Easter basket at this point," you muttered, the weak pun drawing a light nudge from Elle. She smiled, her gentle encouragement a quiet comfort amidst the stress.

But your attention quickly shifted back to Asuna. The EMTs had already gone through her medical history, and you had shown them your driver’s license alongside Asuna’s student ID to establish your relationship. You glanced at Eri, who sat with her hands clasped tightly, her gaze distant and clouded. Calling her name softly a few times, you waited until she looked up at you, her expression tinged with guilt.

"Hey, it’s okay. These things happen, they’re unpredictable. You can’t beat yourself up about it," you said gently, reaching out to loosen her grip on the gurney. Eri nodded, but the sadness in her smile lingered, a clear sign that something still weighed heavily on her mind.

"You wanna talk, butterbean?" you offered, the nickname bringing a small scoff from her, a reminder of her childhood and the soft, squishy cheeks that had earned her the endearing moniker from you.

"Um, yeah, but later, please?" she replied, her voice small. You nodded, understanding that whatever was bothering her, she needed time to process it.

Asuna stirred slightly, her eyes fluttering open as she looked up at you with a dazed expression. You brushed a strand of hair from her face, the tender gesture drawing a slow blink from her.

"Where is he?" she asked, her voice distant and groggy.

You pulled out your phone, scrolling through a recent message from Hitoshi. He mentioned Aizawa’s directive for him to get some rest and that you have a " special guest " coming to visit you, before promising to swing by before his patrol. He’d also sent a screenshot of a receipt filled with food items you and Asuna enjoyed during your ‘friendship’ dates.

"Toshi's gonna be back later, baby. Don’t worry," you reassured her, sending a playful combination of a middle finger and heart emoji back to Hitoshi, who replied with a laughing face. As you pocketed your phone, Asuna tugged at your arm, her brow furrowing in frustration. "What’s up, boo?" you asked, nudging her softly, hoping to ease her discomfort.

"Where is he ?" she repeated, her voice more strained this time.

You, Elle, Eri, and the EMT exchanged nervous glances, a collective unease settling over the group. "I told you, honey, Hitoshi is going to meet us later," you said gently, trying to soothe her.

But Asuna shook her head, groaning in pain as she tried to sit up. She whispered something, her eyes filled with a mix of longing and fear. Alarmed, you cupped her cheek, urging her to stay still. "

No... not him," she said, her voice edged with desperation.

A knot of panic tightened in your chest and throat. The ambiguity of her words, paired with the evident distress in her eyes, only heightened your anxiety.

"Who, baby?" you pressed, your voice soft yet insistent.

"Katsuki."

Your eyes widened, a shock mirrored on Elle's and Eri's faces.

The air in the ambulance seemed to grow heavier, the revelation hanging over you like a storm cloud. The implications of her words churned in your mind, each possibility more troubling than the last.

"I... I don't know, dear. Why do you ask?" you probe carefully, your voice laced with concern as you search Asuna's face for any hint of what she means. She doesn't answer, her lips pressing into a tight line as a sudden fit of coughs takes over. Hunching over, she struggles to catch her breath. The EMT quickly adjusts the oxygen flow, muttering updates into the radio, his tone brisk but calm.

You glance at Eri, who sits nearby with wide eyes, her expression a mix of worry and guilt. Her clenched fists and the way her gaze flickers away from yours tell you everything you need to know.

‘Bingo.’

She knows something, and the realization knots your stomach.

Elle, seated on your right side, looks just as shocked. Her phone is already out, fingers flying across the screen as she starts making arrangements for you to take an extended break over the holidays. You know she’s trying to be practical, but the weight of guilt still presses down on you—guilt over promises to your country, over the fear of letting citizens down.

But none of that can come before your loyalty to your daughter, the one who needs you most right now.

Asuna's breathing eventually evens out, her body relaxing slightly under the careful watch of the EMTs. You let out a quiet sigh of relief as she reaches into her pocket, pulling out her phone. The soft ping of a notification draws your attention to your own device. ' My Sugar Plum ' flashes across the screen, a nickname she’s had in your phone for years. You open the message, heart pounding as you read her text,

🩷🌟My Sugar Plum 🥰 🩷 : I want them both.

Your brows furrow in confusion, the meaning of her words eluding you at first. Why would she want Katsuki here? Was it because he was the one who called the ambulance? Your mind races, trying to piece together the logic behind her request. You understand why she’d want Hitoshi—he’s always been a steady presence in her life, reliable and comforting.

But Katsuki?

You think back to the late meeting he had and your conversation earlier. The fragments of the day begin to align in your mind, forming a rough timeline. There’s something more to this, but you don’t want to jump to conclusions.

Not yet.

Fuck it, maybe this was the universe’s doing.

The sound of a hard tap on the front of the ambulance snaps you out of your thoughts. You, Elle, and Eri immediately rise to your feet as the back doors swing open. The EMTs move with practiced precision, carefully lifting Asuna from the gurney and onto a waiting stretcher. They start transporting her into the pediatric emergency room, their steps brisk but measured.

You follow closely, your eyes never leaving Asuna as she’s wheeled through the hospital’s sterile, fluorescent-lit waiting room. The air is filled with the hum of medical equipment, the soft murmur of voices, and the faint beeping of monitors. Each sound heightens your anxiety, your protective instincts kicking into overdrive.

Elle walks beside you, her phone in hand as she coordinates with whoever is on the other end. Eri lingers close, her small hand clutching the hem of your jacket, seeking comfort in your presence. You glance down at her, offering a reassuring squeeze of your hand against hers.

Asuna's eyelids flutter, her gaze unfocused but soft as she looks toward you. The sight of her vulnerability twists something deep within you. You know there’s more to uncover, but for now, your priority is her well-being.

The nurses work swiftly, setting Asuna up with an oxygen tank as you watch, your heart clenched with worry. A red-haired nurse approaches with a clipboard and a stack of paperwork, which you hand off to Elle without a word. She takes it, her expression calm but determined, knowing you need to focus on Asuna right now. You offer a quiet thank you to the EMTs before they head out, their work here done. They nod politely, their faces reflecting the calm reassurance of those who have done this countless times before.

Asuna is connected to various machines, their rhythmic beeping filling the room. The sterile scent of antiseptics permeates the air as the doctor rushes in, immediately launching into a series of questions. You answer each one diligently, your mind a whirlwind of medical history and symptoms, all while glancing back at Asuna every few seconds. Eri stands close, her small frame rigid with the seriousness of the situation. She provides a witness statement, her voice steady despite the fear in her eyes, answering most questions about what she saw and what Asuna was doing before she was found.

The doctor tries to get Asuna to write down what happened, but her coughing fits are too intense. She gasps for air, the sound tearing at your heartstrings. They quickly give up on questioning her further, instead focusing on preparing a breathing treatment. You sign off on the procedure with a shaky hand, knowing it’s the best thing for her right now.

Half an hour later, Asuna is finally asleep. The rise and fall of her chest is aided by the oxygen mask over her face, the harsh rasp of her earlier breaths softened into a gentle rhythm. The room has calmed significantly, the tension that gripped everyone easing into a lull.

You sit by her side, looking over the paperwork Elle had been working on. Methodically, you check off boxes, add details, and ensure everything is accurate. Your pen hovers over the line labeled, ‘ Second Parent.’ You stare at it, unable to move the pen, the words glaring back at you like an unresolved truth.

‘Katsuki.’

His name hovers in your mind, along with the memories of today and yesterday—the moments that have smacked you with something you’ve avoided acknowledging. It’s time to come clean. No matter how messy or uncomfortable it might be, it’s necessary.

Elle is asleep in the chair beside you, her posture composed even in slumber, while Eri has curled up at the foot of Asuna’s bed, her smaller form tucked into a blanket. You stand slowly, the chair creaking softly beneath you as you rise. With the paperwork in hand, you step outside the room, the door closing gently behind you.

In the quiet of the hallway, the distant hum of hospital activity serves as a backdrop to your thoughts. You fill out your name and then Aizawa’s, listing him as Asuna’s new emergency contact in place of Rita. Then Mina, and Elle. Hitoshi’s name follows. Then, you pause again at the ‘ Second Parent’ line, tapping your pen against it. The decision weighs heavily on you, each tap of the pen echoing the unresolved tension in your heart.

"Stuck?"

The deep, familiar voice sends a jolt through you. You turn quickly, your eyes meeting Aizawa’s as he stands a short distance away, his usual calm presence grounding you. He’s watching you with an unreadable expression, the soft lighting of the hallway casting shadows across his face.

For a moment, you both just stare, the unspoken understanding passing between you. Then, as if on cue, you break into a run. Your steps echo down the hallway as you rush toward him, and he moves too, meeting you halfway. You collapse into his arms, the paperwork forgotten as it slips from your grasp. His arms wrap around you tightly, grounding you, his scent familiar and comforting.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper into his shoulder, the words barely audible, but you know he hears them. His hand rests on the back of your head, fingers threading through your braids in a soothing gesture.

“We’ll figure it out,” Aizawa murmurs, his voice a low rumble against your ear. His calm steadiness anchors you, the weight of your shared responsibility lessened by his presence.

You cling to him, letting the emotions of the day wash over you.

You lead Shouta to the seats outside the room door. His calm presence beside you on the bench grounding you in a way that makes the weight of the day a little easier to bear. His expression is a blend of quiet concern and patience, the kind of steadiness that has always been his hallmark.

Taking a seat next to him, you lean back against the cool metal of the bench, the hospital’s fluorescent lights casting a sterile glow over the hallway. “I put you down as Asuna’s new emergency contact,” you admit, your voice quieter now. His eyes flicker to yours, and he nods, his gaze steady and supportive.

When you ask if he's here for Eri, a soft, tired smile tugs at his lips. “I’m here for my granddaughter right now,” he says, the affection in his voice unmistakable. It’s a term of endearment that catches you off guard, and despite everything, you laugh—a weak, shaky sound—but your small smile is genuine.

Without thinking, you reach for his hand, and he lets you, his fingers gently curling around your smaller ones. The warmth of his touch is soothing, grounding you in a way that words never could. He holds your hand firmly but tenderly, a silent promise that he’s here for you, that he always has been.

“I have to tell you something,” you say, your voice trembling slightly. Your thumb clicks the pen in your hand anxiously until the top pops off, the small piece clattering to the floor. Aizawa’s hand stills yours, his grip firm but calming, and he meets your eyes with a quiet, reassuring nod.

“Go on,” he says softly, his tone low and steady, the familiar gruffness of his voice wrapping around you like a comforting blanket. “I’m listening.”

You take a deep breath, the air shuddering as it leaves your lungs. “Asuna asked about her dad this morning,” you confess, the words coming out in a rush. His eyes widen slightly, a flicker of understanding crossing his face. “She did mention something about that,” he murmurs, leaning back slightly, his gaze thoughtful. “Said she had plans to do something ‘adventurous.’” He raises an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth quirking up in a wry smile.

“Yeah, well,” you say, a humorless laugh escaping you. “Look where that adventure led.”

Your laugh is hollow, and you know it doesn’t reach your eyes. Aizawa squeezes your hand gently, a comforting pressure that grounds you. Aizawa taps your hand twice to get your attention as you look up.

“You can’t beat yourself up about this,” he says firmly, his voice low but insistent. His eyes, dark and serious, lock onto yours. He’s older now, hair shoulder, cut just above his shoulders, and his stubble has begun to salt and pepper. But he’s still the same man you met all those years ago. And you know you’re still one of his students.

“You didn’t intend for her to get hurt. There are layers to this, and whether we like it or not, we can’t change the past. You did what you thought was right at the time—to protect her. From Katsuki, from the media, from villains, from…everything. Even yourself.”

You glance down at your intertwined fingers, the weight of the moment pressing on you. “Shouta,” you begin hesitantly, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve always thought of you as a father figure.”

The confession feels heavier than you expected, and you find yourself avoiding his gaze, staring at the scuffed linoleum floor instead. “I know it might sound a little weird, coming from a former student,” you add quickly, nerves getting the better of you. “But it’s the truth. It’s not just the whole ‘Dadzawa’ thing people joke about. I think of you as a legit dad.”

For a moment, the hallway is silent except for the faint hum of hospital machinery. Then, a low chuckle rumbles from Aizawa’s chest. You snap your head up, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “What’s so funny?” you demand, a bit sharper than you intended. You stomp your foot, the action meant to emphasize your frustration, but instead, you’re met with the cool, bare sensation of the hospital floor against your skin.

Your eyes widen as you remember—your boot and sock had burned away when you kicked that tree earlier. Your bare foot, scuffed and a little worse for wear, has been exposed this whole time. Heat rises to your cheeks as you glance at Aizawa, who’s now trying to stifle another chuckle.

He tugs you gently to sit back down on the bench, his grip firm but kind. “I’m glad you finally said something,” he says, his voice soft but steady. “Rita wanted me to wait before saying anything.”

You blink, taken aback. “Wait for what?”

Aizawa’s dark eyes soften, a rare warmth in their depths. “She thought it’d be better if you said it first. But I’ve thought of you like a daughter for a long time now. I’d be honored to have someone like you call me dad.”

His words hit you square in the chest, and a lump forms in your throat. The weight of his acceptance, his quiet, unwavering support, is almost overwhelming.

“I love you,” you blurt out, voice thick with emotion. “In all your insomniac glory.”

Before he can respond, you throw your arms around him in a sudden, fierce hug, squeezing tightly. Aizawa lets out a surprised huff as you knock the air out of him, but after a brief pause, he wraps his arms around you, holding you just as firmly.

“So,” he says, voice a little strained but still carrying that familiar dry humor, “you wanna sign the adoption papers and make this all official?”

You pull back just enough to look him dead in the eye, a teasing smile playing on your lips. “I will ugly cry into your shoulder and use your hair as a tissue, old man.”

“There she is,” Aizawa mutters with a smirk, patting your back lightly. The moment feels lighter, easier, and you find yourself smiling genuinely for the first time all day.

He gently releases you from the hug, standing up and stretching his arms over his head. “I’ll go down to the gift shop and see if they have some slippers,” he offers, glancing pointedly at your bare foot. But before he turns to leave, he adds, “You have another visitor.”

You furrow your brows, confused. “I thought you were my visitor?”

Aizawa shakes his head, his lips twitching into a sly smile. He brings two fingers to his lips and whistles sharply. The sound echoes down the hallway, and a familiar tuft of ash-blonde hair appears around the corner.

“Katsuki!” you exclaim, your heart lurching at the sight of him.

Welp. There he is.

Your heart gives a sharp lurch, and for a moment, you’re convinced this is it—you’re going to die.

Right here, right now, in the middle of the hospital.

It seems almost poetic, collapsing from sheer emotional overload after you just confessed your familial love to Aizawa, who, in turn, confirmed he loves you like a daughter.

Your thoughts spin out of control. If Aizawa legally becomes your dad, that technically makes you and Eri sisters. And Eri would be Asuna’s aunt! The absurdity of it makes your head spin even more. But then reality crashes back in like a wave, the task at hand demanding your full attention.

Katsuki Bakugou.

Your stomach feels like it’s playing an intense game of jump rope with your heart and other organs. You can’t help but stare as he strolls up the hospital corridor, each step measured and purposeful. His usual scowl is softened, his lips pressed in a line that seems more contemplative than annoyed.

In his hands, he carries a bouquet of flowers—an assortment of lilies and daisies, their bright colors a stark contrast to the sterile white walls of the hospital. In his other hand, a small teddy bear dangles by its paw, an unexpectedly tender gesture. He’s still in his winter uniform, coat open, the black long sleeves hugging his muscular frame. The fabric clings in all the right places, showcasing the definition of his arms and chest, the kind of strength that makes your mouth go dry.

Your eyes drift to the scar on his right cheek, a firm line that adds to his rugged appeal. It’s a mark of battle, of the past, and you find yourself wondering—not for the first time—if his hair is still as soft as it looks. His spiky locks defy gravity, each strand a perfect combination of wild and controlled chaos. It’s the kind of hair that makes your fingers itch to run through it, just to see if it’s as silky as you remember.

Then there are his eyes.

Those intense, vermilion eyes that have always seemed to bore into you with an almost predatory precision. But now, as he approaches, they don’t pierce you like they used to. Instead, they feel like a wave of water, washing over you, enveloping you in a surprising sense of calm. His gaze holds something softer, as if he’s carrying an unspoken promise.

He’s wearing his usual black and orange boots, the ones that seem so much quieter now. It used to unnerve you how he could stomp around with such ferocity one moment and move like a ninja the next, barely making a sound. His backpack is slung over one shoulder, and your brain throws up an exclamation point at the sight of it. You’d completely forgotten it back at the park. The realization that he’d thought to bring it sends a flutter through your chest, a small but meaningful gesture that doesn’t go unnoticed.

Finally, he reaches you, his imposing frame just inches away. You can tell he’s trying not to look down at you from his height, his gaze flickering between your face and the bouquet in his hand. The tension between you is palpable, the air thick with words unspoken.

The hospital corridor hums softly in the background, the distant beeping of monitors and the murmur of nurses at the station grounding you in the moment. The scent of antiseptic lingers in the air, but all you can focus on is the man standing before you, his presence overwhelming in the best way.

“Hey,” you whisper, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart.

"Hey," Katsuki mumbles back, his gaze dropping to the floor. He shifts uncomfortably, eyes flicking around the sterile hallway before he finally presents the bouquet and the small teddy bear. "For the kid," he mutters, holding them out with a somewhat sheepish expression.

You take the flowers and teddy bear gently, offering a quiet, "Thank you." The little bear is an adorable shade of pink, adorned with a tiny black bow tie. A small smile plays on your lips. "She’ll totally love this. Very punk-est."

Katsuki's brow furrows in confusion. "I thought she was a girly girl?"

You shrug, cradling the teddy bear against your chest. "Asuna’s whatever she wants to be."

He hums in understanding, the corners of his mouth twitching as if contemplating a smile. You gesture for him to sit beside you, and he does, though as soon as he settles, he shifts uncomfortably and stands back up. His hand reaches behind him, retrieving a pen that had poked him in the rear.

Your face flushes. "Oh god, I’m so sorry," you blurt, scrambling to gather the paperwork scattered around you. As you fumble with the sheets, Katsuki pulls one from where it had stuck to his pants. His eyes flick over the form before he can stop himself, noting the empty line under 'Second Parent.' His face turns crimson as he quickly hands the paper back to you.

" Sorry ," he mumbles, averting his gaze.

You take it from him gently, tapping the edges of the papers together to straighten them. "It’s okay," you murmur, a defeated tone creeping into your voice. You tug at one of your braids, trying to relieve some of the tension coiled in your scalp.

"This is just... awkward."

Noticing your discomfort, Katsuki reaches over and gently pushes your hand away with his larger one. The warmth of his touch lingers, grounding you. You sigh, looking up at him with a weary expression.

"Why are you here?"

Katsuki hesitates for a moment, his eyes softening as he meets your gaze.

"She asked me not to leave," he admits, his voice quieter than usual. "I’ll go if you're uncomfortable, but make sure you take the bookbag this time." He shifts as if to stand, but you hold up your hand to stop him.

"You can sit if you want," you say, biting your lip and tapping your bare foot against the cold hospital floor before retracting it. "Everyone else is asleep, and I'd like someone to talk to."

Katsuki’s eyes drift down to your foot, and without a word, he slides his booted foot under yours, shielding it from the chill of the floor. The gesture is simple, yet it sends a wave of warmth through you. His touch, though indirect, feels protective.

"Thanks," you whisper, the tension in your shoulders easing just a bit as he settles beside you once more. The two of you sit in a comfortable silence for a moment, the quiet hum of the hospital around you, before you gather the courage to speak again.

Katsuki watched you quietly, his eyes tracing over the way the fitted black jacket hugged your frame. Without your usual coat, the jacket accentuated the gentle curves of your shoulders and waist. It was simple, yet it brought a new focus to your form that he hadn’t allowed himself to fully appreciate before.

His gaze drifted down, noticing the delicate gold anklet that still graced your ankle, a subtle shimmer catching the fluorescent lights of the hospital. He remembered that anklet, how it always seemed to glint mischievously when you moved, as if it carried a piece of your energy. His eyes caught on your wrists, adorned with bracelets that jingled softly when you adjusted yourself.

They were the same ones he’d seen countless times before, each band a reminder of your personality—bold yet intricate. His gaze continued upward, resting on the necklace around your neck. His tongue clicked slightly as he recognized it. It matched the one Asuna wore, a small pendant that connected you both in a way that made his chest tighten.

Your lips, soft and full, still did that familiar pout when you were deep in thought or upset, and Katsuki felt a pull in his gut. He wanted to see your soft cheeks in his hands again, pressing into them to make them puff out like he used to when you weren’t paying attention. He remembered how your eyes would narrow in mock annoyance, but your cheeks would warm, a subtle heat that made him want to do it again and again.

Your eyes, always bright, seemed to radiate light, not from your quirk but from something deeper within you. It was something that drew him in, made him feel like he could bask in their warmth.

Katsuki’s fingers twitched as he fought the urge to reach out and hug you, to tell you that it was all going to be okay and that he was here for you. But he knew better. He’d already pushed boundaries by coming here, and he didn’t want to overstep. His mind raced, trying to find a way to break the tension hanging in the air. Finally, he spoke, his voice gruff but softer than usual.

"Bag check wanted to check on ya, but Aizawa told him to fuck off back home." He scratched the back of his neck, a habit he couldn’t shake when he was nervous. "I left his flowers in the bag. They'll die soon if you don't get them in some water."

Your eyes flicked up to him, a mixture of surprise and gratitude in your gaze. You carefully unzipped the bookbag he’d brought, pulling out the slightly crumpled bouquet of flowers. Despite their state, they were still alive, the petals vibrant and soft to the touch. You cradled them gently, smoothing out the leaves as best as you could.

"Thank you," you whispered, your voice tender as you glanced up at him.

Katsuki felt his throat tighten.

He wanted to say more, to tell you that he’d been worried, that seeing you like this made something twist painfully in his chest. But instead, he just nodded, watching as you carefully set the flowers aside, your fingers brushing over the petals as if they were something precious.

The silence stretched between you again, but this time it was filled with a newfound warmth. Katsuki’s eyes flicked back to yours, catching the faint shimmer of unshed tears. His heart ached to comfort you, but he held back, unsure if his touch would be welcome. Instead, he leaned in slightly, bringing the heavy scent of caramel with him, his voice low.

"They’ll be okay," he said, his tone laced with a gentleness that was reserved for only you.

"You’ll be okay."

You looked up at him, your lips curving into a small, grateful smile. It was enough to ease some of the tension in his chest, though the longing to do more remained.

For now, Katsuki would settle for this, to offer what comfort he could with his presence, hoping it was enough.

You take a deep breath, feeling the weight of what you were about to say pressing down on your chest.

The sterile scent of the hospital lingered in the air, mingling with the faint hum of distant machinery and the soft murmur of nurses' voices from down the hall. The fluorescent lights cast a cold, pale glow over the corridor, highlighting the stark white walls and the polished linoleum floor that seemed to stretch endlessly in both directions.

Your fingers fidgeted with the hem of your jacket, twisting the fabric between your thumb and forefinger as you mustered the courage to speak.

"I need to tell you something important," you began, your voice steady despite the nervous flutter in your stomach. Katsuki’s gaze sharpened, his expression softening just a fraction as he leaned forward slightly, his hands resting on his thighs. "I need you to be understanding right now. You have every right to get upset or freak out, but... just hear me out, okay?"

Katsuki stills before he nods, his usual intensity tempered by a quiet curiosity.

"Alright."

You exhaled slowly, your hands now resting on your lap as you began to explain. "It’s about Asuna. She—" You paused, searching for the right words, "She’s important to me. I know that’s obvious, but there’s more to it."

Katsuki’s brow furrowed slightly, his eyes narrowing in thought.

"I know," he said quietly. "We were talking in the park before I saw you on the bench."

Your eyes widened in surprise, and your head tilted slightly in confusion. "Wait, you two were talking? Before you saw me?" You sit up straighter now, less hunched.

"Yeah," he confirmed, scratching the back of his neck, a habit that betrayed his slight discomfort. "We were walking around. She started talking to me outside of the skatin’ rink. You know she was at the park?" he asked, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

"Of course, I knew she was at the park," you replied, the corners of your mouth lifting in a small smile. "But I didn’t know she was talking to you."

Katsuki blinked, a flicker of surprise crossing his face.

"Was that... okay?" His voice was hesitant, as if unsure whether he had overstepped some unspoken boundary.

"For me to talk to her?"

Inside your mind, a storm of thoughts swirled. The truth hung on the tip of your tongue, the revelation that he was her father, and therefore had every right to speak with her. But instead, you nodded, your smile unwinding.

"Yeah, it’s okay. What did you two talk about?"

He leaned back slightly, his arms resting on the back of the chair, his gaze thoughtful. "She’s a real nosey brat," he said with a smirk, earning a sharp smack on his thigh from you. The sound echoed faintly in the quiet corridor.

"She’s not a brat," you retorted, your eyes narrowing in playful indignation. "She’s curious."

He chuckled, the sound low and warm, a rare glimpse of his lighter side. "Yeah, yeah. You got rose-colored glasses when it comes to her." You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips. "So, what did you two talk about?"

"UA, Aizawa," he listed, his fingers drumming lightly on the chair’s armrest. "She asked a lot of questions. Like if I have a girlfriend."

Your eyebrows lifted in surprise, and Katsuki’s gaze met yours.

"I told her I don’t," he added quickly, his voice steady but his eyes searching yours for a reaction.

"I didn’t ask," you murmured, feeling a warmth spread across your chest.

He shrugged, a small grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. "She did. Then she asked if I have kids."

"And what did you say?"

"No," he replied, his expression serious now, as if weighing the significance of his answer. "I said no."

"Are you sure?"

"What the hell’s that supposed to mean?!"

"Calm your fire britches," you laughed, the tension in your shoulders easing slightly. "I was just teasing."

He huffed, the corner of his mouth quirking downward. "No, I don’t have kids."

There was a brief pause before he added, "I did ask if you and Shinsou are dating."

You blinked, surprised. "What did she say?"

"Ew, no ," he replied, a grin spreading across his face. You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head.

"Of course, she did."

"I asked if she has siblings," he continued, his tone softening. "She told me no." You leaned forward slightly, your eyes searching his face.

"Did she say she wanted siblings?"

Katsuki shook his head, his expression thoughtful.

"No. I think she likes being an only child. She doesn’t wanna share you."

A warmth bloomed in your chest at his words, and you smiled, the affection for your daughter evident in your gaze.

"She really loves you," he added, his voice quieter now. "She’s protective of you. I’m guessin’ that’s why she wanted to meet me."

Your heart swelled at his words, and for a moment, you felt the depth of his understanding. He saw how much Asuna cared for you, how much she needed you. But something about that last comment made your blood stop.

"I didn’t tell 'suna that I was meeting you," you admitted, your voice barely there, sounding far away and distant.

Both of you paused, the weight of the moment settling between you as your eyes met. In the background, the hospital’s quiet hum continued, the distant sounds of monitors and soft footsteps the only reminder of where you were. Right now, it felt like the world had narrowed down to just the two of you.

The unspoken truths hang in the air, waiting to be acknowledged.

Mentioning the park does ring some alarms for you though and you think back to the ambulance ride. Eri’s strange behavior, Asuna and her having switched clothes, the bag in her pocket…..

"Did you buy her almonds?" you ask softly, breaking the silence.

Katsuki nods, his brows knitting together. "Yeah. Said she liked almonds better when I offered her peanuts, so I got some when she went to get Eri a soda—”

"You let her walk off!" you exclaim, sitting up straighter, your hands clenched into fists. "She’s sixteen," Katsuki retorts, rolling his eyes.

"We were unsupervised at sixteen and turned out great."

“Yeah apart from a few villain attacks.”

He shoots you a glare and you smile sweetly while flashing your sharp teeth at him. Katsuki opens his mouth to argue with you but instead just closes it. Thinking.

"Asuna likes spicy food more than sugar." You admit before flexing your foot on top of his boot. Katsuki hums, rubbing the bridge of his nose. Does he want the moment to end? No. But you have other things to do than babysit a grown man.

"I got off track. What were you gonna tell me?"

The dread in your stomach twists, a heavy, leaden weight pulling at your insides as you glance at Katsuki.

His eyes are sharp, waiting, patient in a way that’s rare for him, but you’re still on the edge, teetering with words you’ve kept buried for too long. You inhale, your breath shallow as you begin to speak.

"Yeah, I need to tell you something important."

The words tremble on your tongue, nearly slipping out, but before you can finish, the room’s door is yanked open with a force that startles you both.

Asuna stands in the doorway, rubbing her eyes, her movements slow and languid with the leftover haze of sleep. Her gaze drifts up, and the moment she spots Katsuki, her hand freezes mid-rub, her ruby eyes widening in surprise. She blinks rapidly, as if trying to confirm what she’s seeing.

Katsuki isn’t moving.

His body is unnervingly still, as if time has stopped for him entirely. His chest doesn’t rise or fall, and his usual intensity is replaced with a vulnerability you’ve rarely seen. His gaze is locked on Asuna, his lips slightly parted as though he’s forgotten how to breathe.

You look from Asuna to Katsuki and then back again, feeling like you’re standing on the precipice of something immense. The two people you have loved most in the world are here, together, and for a heartbeat, everything feels surreal.

And they don't even know the truth yet.

Asuna’s reaction, so much like Katsuki’s, pulls at your heartstrings. Her eyes, those burning red iris, are a mirror to his, and you can see the resemblance more clearly now than ever before. It’s overwhelming, seeing them together, and you’re struck by just how much she’s inadvertently inherited from him.

She looks better than she did earlier. Her cheeks, once pale and gaunt, now have a healthy flush. The oxygen mask is gone, and she’s breathing easily, the rise and fall of her chest steady and comforting. Her lips are a bit dry, but nothing that some gloss and Gatorade can’t fix. You make a mental note to take care of that later, but for now, you’re rooted in place, your emotions a disco in panic.

The three of you stand frozen, each lost in your own swirling thoughts.

Katsuki’s gaze locks onto Asuna, as if she’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. His mind races, a maelstrom of emotions, each one fighting for dominance. ‘How could you have ever felt insecure about anything if you could create someone so perfect?’ he wonders, the intense red of her eyes igniting something deep within him, filling the void in a way he hadn’t even thought of.

Maybe he’s biased. The girl is a mirror image of you. But more than that, and Katsuki knows it.

After all, you’re the only woman he’s ever loved.

It’s not just a love for your physical prowess, though he’s admired that too.

It’s deeper, more profound.

Katsuki loves you, or maybe he did love you. Or maybe he still loves you after all this time, a truth he’s buried beneath years and layers of anger and grief. He loves you for who you are, for the fierce kindness and compassion that has never wavered.

He sees it in how you tirelessly work as a hero and in the community, not for recognition but because you care. He knows you must be an incredible mother to have raised someone as remarkable as Asuna.

Katsuki loves you because once, when it was dark, he saw your soul, and it was so beautiful that he could never look at another. He never wanted another. He wants only you.

Selfish, right?

You, on the other hand, are overwhelmed with the urge to hold Asuna, to wrap her in your arms and never let go. You want to ensure she’s okay, that she feels safe and loved. But beneath that, a storm of worry brews. You glance at Katsuki, wondering if he’s even considered the possibility that she’s his daughter.

The thought of finally admitting it out loud makes your heart race. You’ve kept this secret for so long, out of fear and uncertainty. But seeing him now, the way he looks at her with something akin to awe, you realize you can’t keep it hidden much longer.

Katsuki isn’t stupid, not by a long shot.

He’s not putting the pieces together right now because he’s in shock.

But you know he will.

And you’ll have to pay the price when it happens. You could never hide from him—not as kids, not as adults. Even when he was at his most stubborn back at UA, you saw through him.

Because the truth was always in his eyes.

Whether he was flustered, drowning, or being an ass, Katsuki couldn’t lie to you like he could lie to the rest of the world, and he knew it. That was one of the reasons you left that night at the Hero Gala. You could see the love he once had for you was gone, and you weren’t going to stay and raise a boy who couldn’t see what he had right in front of him.

And despite everything, you were so happy that Asuna was born with his eyes.

You never admitted it—not to Mina, not to Aizawa, not to Hitoshi, not even to your own grandmother. But you loved it. You loved looking into those little eyes and seeing your baby girl, carrying a good piece of the man you once loved so deeply.

You never thought you’d see him again, never imagined this moment.

You had planned to raise Asuna on your own, to be strong and independent, and find her own path. Who would’ve thought that 16 years later, you’d be here, in the hospital where you gave birth to her, sitting next to her father who doesn’t know he’s her father, and next to your daughter, who just this morning asked you if her father even knows she exists.

If someone had told you this would happen, you would’ve laughed and called them crazy.

Who’s the crazy one now?

When you love somebody, you don’t get to pick their flaws.

You have to embrace the whole of them—the good and the bad. The love you feel for their light must be strong enough to withstand their darkness, because everyone has a shadow. Loving someone means accepting that their darker aspects might touch you too, and while those flaws don’t necessarily define who they are, they don’t excuse their actions either.

Love isn’t about perfection; it’s about understanding and navigating the imperfections together.

It’s about loving despite the bad, because good will overcome it.

The three of you sitting there, caught in the weight of unspoken truths, are far from innocent.

Each carries a past, a story marked by choices and consequences. Asuna, though, is the most innocent among you. She didn’t ask for this complex web of love, loss, and secrets.

Yet, here she is, sitting at the center of it all.

Why is it that children often bear the burdens of their parents' pasts?

Why do they pay the price for decisions they never made? It’s a cruel irony of life—that the most vulnerable, the ones with the least power, are often the ones who suffer the most from the fallout of choices they had no part in. Asuna’s existence is a testament to a love that once was, a love that is still tangled in unresolved emotions and lingering pain.

And now, she sits here, paying the price for the paths her parents walked long before she ever took her first breath.

It’s an age-old tragedy, this legacy of hurt passed down through generations, and as you sit in the quiet tension of the room, the weight of it presses down on all of you, demanding resolution, understanding, and, perhaps, a chance at redemption.

But that only happens in the stories you read.

Asuna is the first to break the silence. Her voice is soft, hesitant.

"You guys are talking?" she asks, her eyes darting between you and Katsuki.

You open your mouth to respond, but before you can, she looks at Katsuki properly, and her breath catches in her throat. Her gaze lingers on him, her expression a mix of confusion and something akin to awe. She’s trying to process what she’s seeing, and it’s clear she’s struggling to find the words.

You both hate watching her struggle to find the words.

The tension in the hall is palpable, the air thick with unspoken emotions. Asuna’s heart rate monitor beeps faster, the rhythmic sound filling the silence as her anxiety rises. Her hands and feet grow hot, and she shifts uncomfortably, trying to keep her cool. The cut on her palm itches, a sharp reminder of the ordeal she’s been through, that she needs to calm down, but she ignores it, focusing instead on the two of you.

Finally, you break the tension, your voice gentle as you try to ease the situation.

"You’ve got a visitor," you say, holding up the small teddy bear Katsuki had brought. You wave it lightly, offering a reassuring smile.

Asuna’s eyes flick to the bear, and a soft laugh escapes her lips, the tension in her shoulders easing slightly. She steps into the hallway, her movements cautious, but there’s a glimmer of relief in her eyes.

She reaches out and takes the bear from you, cradling it in her hands as if it’s the most precious thing in the world. Katsuki shyly presents her the flowers, and Asuna gently takes them into her arms too, poking at them while adverting her gaze.

You scoot to the side, making room for her on the bench. She hesitates for a moment before sitting down, on your lap as if she's a toddler, but you let her and her legs fit snugly between you and Katsuki.

The bench is small, and you find yourself nearly sitting in Katsuki’s lap, the proximity making your heart race. Asuna nestles against your side, her head resting on your shoulder, the warmth of her presence comforting you.

None of you speak.

The silence is comforting, a shared understanding passing between you. Katsuki’s arm rests on the back of the bench, his fingers brushing against your shoulder. You can feel his gaze on Asuna, soft and contemplative.

Asuna breaks the silence again, her voice quiet. "Is it true you brought this for me?" she asks, holding up the bear and flowers while looking at Katsuki.

He nods, his lips curling into a small, genuine smile. "Yeah. Thought you might like 'em."

She hugs the goods tighter, a smile spreading across her face.

"Thank you," she whispers, her voice filled with genuine gratitude.

Katsuki’s eyes soften, and for a moment, you see the vulnerability in him, the walls he’s kept up for so long crumbling just a little.

"You’re welcome, Asuna."

And the three of you sit there together in peace for a long while.

30 minutes go by before the cozy moment is abruptly interrupted by a whirlwind of events.

First, Aizawa returns with a small shopping bag dangling from his wrist. His usual composed demeanor softens as he takes in the scene before him, his eyes briefly flicking to Asuna’s arm where the bear rests.

Second, a delivery guy appears with a package, which you hastily chalk up to being the food Hitoshi ordered for you.

And third, the doctor and nurses stroll up, carrying Asuna's discharge paperwork, a prescription, a new inhaler, and a sheet of stickers, bringing a sudden bustle of activity outside the room.

Asuna lights up, eagerly choosing a Paw Patrol sticker and a skull. With a giggle, she places one on each cheek before asking for two more stickers for Eri. Her bright smile is contagious, filling the air with a brief but welcome cheerfulness amidst the flurry.

The energy shifts as the reality of going home starts to settle in.

You thank the delivery guy with a soft smile, accepting the package before turning your attention to the discharge forms. The pen feels heavy in your hand as you scrawl your signature, but the sight of Asuna gleefully chatting up the staff makes you feel better. You hand a nurse the forms you were struggling with earlier and hope that you can continue both conversations soon.

While signing for the package, you notice Aizawa and Katsuki nearly push each other out of the way as they kneel to the floor.

You almost yell at them to knock it off until you see they have the same determined look. It takes you a moment to realize they’re vying to get your slippers on your feet. The sight of them nearly shoulder-checking each other to get to you first makes you feel flustered but warm, a deep appreciation replaces that, welling up in your chest.

As Katsuki kneels, his fingers gently brushing your ankle as he slips the left slipper on, looking over your funny patterned socks, and you’re struck with a wave of nostalgia. It’s like prom night all over again, when he helped you put on your heels and later carried them and you after you’d had enough of their discomfort. His touch is as gentle now as it was then, his eyes flicking up to meet yours with a quiet intensity.

His hands were pleasantly warm too.

Aizawa, meanwhile, stands to the side, his expression fond as he watches the interaction. His presence brings back another memory—those days when your pregnancy made even the simplest tasks difficult. You recall the time you’d broken down over not being able to put on your shoes, tears streaming down your face as you lamented not being able to go to the new seafood place you’d been craving.

Shouta had hugged you, his embrace solid and comforting, before kneeling down to put your tennis shoes on for you. He’d taken you out himself, never complaining, paying for the meal without a second thought.

As you’re lost in these memories, the delivery guy shifts, bringing you back to the present.

You wave him off with a smile, closing the mental door behind him as curiosity pulls at you. Asuna and Aizawa go back into the room to wake up Eri and Elle, leaving you and Katsuki in a rare moment of quiet.

Katsuki stands nearby, holding your things, his silent insistence on helping lingering between you like an unspoken sentiment. His reluctance to leave is palpable, as though he’s holding onto these fleeting moments a little longer.

Because he doesn’t want to leave you again.

He doesn’t want to wake up in that empty apartment and be trapped inside his own mind anymore.

But you don’t know that.

You turn your attention to the package, curiosity piqued. The package feels heavier than expected, and as you tear it open, you’re surprised to find not a food order, but a box within a box. Your brows knit in confusion as you open each box. As you peel back layers of protective wrapping, the anticipation builds until you reach a tiny box nestled at the center. You pick it up, expecting perhaps a pair of earrings Hitoshi might have ordered.

Your heart pounds as you glance over your shoulder. There’s no one else here but Katsuki. He’s standing only two feet away but his eyes are on you. There’s a subtle tension in his stance, as though he’s anticipating something.

The contents get smaller and more mysterious until you’re holding a tiny, ornate box.

Your fingers are fluid as you open the final box, your phone already ringing as you call Hitoshi on FaceTime, needing him to share this funny mix up with you. As the lid lifts, your breath catches in your throat.

This wasn’t a pair of earrings.

Nestled inside is a ring—stunning, breathtaking in every way.

Not a small, dainty piece of jewelry, but a bold statement, perfectly reflecting your style.

Set with your favorite cut and color, your birthstone framed by your favorite gems. The centerpiece gleams under the hospital’s fluorescent lights, and the engraving inside the band takes your breath away,

‘I will love you forever.’

Your jaw drops, the world around you narrowing to just this ring in your hand.

The emotions you’ve been holding back all surge to the surface, overwhelming in their intensity.

Katsuki, seeing your reaction, lets off several small, startled explosions from his hands, the sound sharp in the quiet. His eyes are wide, filled with something akin to shock and hope as he takes a tentative step toward you. Tears are already forming in your eyes, a reflexive response to the overwhelming emotions swirling in your chest.

The hallway seems to hold its breath alongside you, as if time has paused.

Before either of you can say anything, the sound of fast, frantic footsteps echoes behind you.

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See you soon my loves!!

(｡･ω･｡)ﾉ♡ -Angie

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