#he's so good to umi and the other kids i cry :')

[thelifeinmyshadesofgrey]

WYLLVEMBER DAY 21 | Kids

[eideticmemory]

TWO GHOSTS IV | MATTHEW GUBLER

It’s been 15 years. 15 years has to be long enough . . . right? Read PART 3.

Set 15 years after the end of Ever Since New York, so give that a read first!

Word Count: 3.9k.

Warning: Usual angst, porn, and poor communication amongst characters.

SOUNDTRACK:

Love Affair - UMI

Debt - Eliza McLamb

Sometimes Sunshine - Seasalt

A nonstop flight, from New York City to Los Angeles, is three hours long. On a good day. And May 16 was supposed to be a good day. A great day. The best day of Matthew’s life. He tries not to think about it, not to reminisce too often. About the way he walked through the airport with a little jog, a little pep in his step. And the way he smiled through security, and constantly checked behind him as if you would magically appear. The roses he bought for you in a gift shop near the terminal.

See, a nonstop flight from New York City to Los Angeles is three hours long. On a good day. But Matthew wasn’t looking for three hours. He wasn’t asking you for a few hours of your time, or even a good day. He was asking you for a lifetime.

And that day, he had booked you two a connecting flight that totaled over six hours, with a two hour layover in Colorado. There was a little ice cream shop in the Denver airport, and they served blueberry ice cream. Matthew remembered it was your favorite, and saved just enough money to get your tickets and an entire pint. He couldn’t shake the thought of flying across the country with you, seeing a few small parts of it at a time. A few small parts at a time, until someday, you two had seen the whole world together.

He bought a blanket for you and, while waiting at the terminal, he sat it in the seat beside him, keeping it warm for when you would arrive. He had a little itinerary written in his notes app, and so far everything was going to plan. He had a bouquet of roses in his lap, and he killed time by looking up engagement rings online.

He didn’t start to worry until maybe, an hour, an hour and a half before the plane was set to depart. He called you, just to check in, and it went straight to voicemail. But he was still hopeful. There was very little that could destroy his peace that day. His hope. His happiness.

He tries not to think about it. The way the seconds inched by like a caterpillar moving across the limb of a tree. Slowly, painfully. The way his hope dwindled, and dwindled, and the insane amount of times he heard,

Hey, it’s [y/n]! Leave a message!

He can’t think about it anymore. The way he spents those six hours alone. Bawling his way through flight after flight, and eating a pint of blueberry ice cream by himself. He spent hours on his own. And weeks, months, hell, he spent years thinking that maybe, just maybe, you would find your way back to him.That the universe would magically correct itself.

And you’d come home.

Fifteen.

It took him fifteen years to find you again. It took fifteen years for the universe to bring you back together, and Matthew spent the first five thinking it was all some really shitty nightmare. It took him fifteen years to get close to you, to hear you say his name again, to get inside of you again.

And he managed to fuck it all up in a matter of twenty-four hours.

His body is paralyzed. His mind is moving a mile a minute, and he can’t take his eyes off the ceiling. His chest feels tight, like he can’t breathe properly. He knows he should not feel sorry for himself. That he, alone, is responsible for this wreck. But he can’t seem to shake it. He can’t seem to move.

“What the hell did I do?”

A knock at your door wakes you up. You don’t remember falling asleep, you don’t know how you were able to. But now, it’s all you want to do. You want to stay in the bed, in a state of unconsciousness and dreariness where you can’t remember your mistakes. But someone is knocking. Incessantly, loudly. And they won’t stop.

You roll out of bed, and drag your body across the floor. Zombie like, your shoulders are slouched, your eyes are hooded. Your feet shuffle along the floor like they’re weighted to the hardwood. Your footsteps are slow, hesitant. You don’t know what you’ll do if Matthew is on the other side of that door. You just . . . you don’t know. The very thought of it is making your stomach churn, and you suddenly feel very, very nauseous. The banging continues, and it’s as someone is using all their force. Like they’d break the door down if they could.

“[y/n]!”

You instantly relax at the sound of her voice. You speed up, hurry to the door, “[y/n] [y/l/n]! I know you can hear me! Open up!”

The door swings open and you catch her with her fist in the air, ready to strike the door once again. She’s pissed, doesn’t try to hide it, couldn’t hide it even if she tried.

“Good morning,” you rasp.

“It’s one in the afternoon,” she corrects you, pushing her way into your home.

“Please,” you say, shutting the door behind her. “Come on in.”

“Y’know,” Everest starts, clasping her hands in front of her as a wild look graces her face. “You’ve always been one of the good ones . . . hell, you’ve been . . . great, if that’s the word. You’re better than the others. The ones that really write my checks. But, um, you’re testing me, [y/n].”

You don’t even have to ask.

“Now, if there’s is some magical relationship blooming, or a monumental disaster about to strike, then you need to tell me now, so I can fix it. I’m a fixer, you know, that’s what I do. So, why are you making this so hard for me?”

“If it . . .” you clear your throat, cross your arms as you stare at her feet. “If it makes you feel any better, um, this is hard for me, too.” You attempt to joke. But you just sound sad.

“Yeah?” she raises her eyebrows. “So hard that you come out of his hotel in tears? And what the hell were you doing over there anyway? Was there a plan? Did he call you to come over?”

“I don’t see how any of this matters.”

“It matters because I woke up at seven in the morning — on a saturday — to all sorts of choas and speculation, and picture evidence of you doing exactly what I told you not to do!”

“Yeah, well, I’m a idiot. Don’t worry, that’s been established.”

“The internet is undefeated. Okay? People are . . . great at making up stories, making assumptions. And as your publicist, I need to know the whole story, the real story, before it gets twisted even further.”

You sigh, and walk over to the couch. As you sit down, you pull a pillow into your lap for just a little bit of comfort. “What do you mean the whole story?”

“Wrong choice of words,” Everest says. “The important parts of the whole story. Like are you dating him? Are you fucking him? If so, how long has this been going on?”

You can’t make eye contact as you speak, “I . . . fucked . . . him . . . a few times, a long time ago . . .”

She nods. She motions at you to continue, “. . . And?”

“And . . .” you breathe out. “I fucked him, again. Recently.”

“Last night? At the hotel?”

“Last night . . . not at the hotel.”

“Sooo, when? — Oh, my God,” she lowers her eyebrows at you, purses her lips. “You didn’t.”

“Oh, I did,” you nod. It’s a shameful nod. “You know they say there’s no sex like sex in a dressing room.”

“They also say polka dots are making a comeback, you believe everything you hear?”

“Sorry.”

“So you fuck him in the dressing room, and?”

“And . . . we go our seperate ways . . . again. And, then I realize that’s a lot easier said then done, so I . . . I go for him. I go for him . . .” Everest can hear the way your voice is cracking, the way the weight on your shoulder is slowly pushing the air out of your lungs. “And, uh,” you clear your throat. “Yeah. Yeah, it didn’t work out. Hence the . . . photos of me crying, I guess.”

“Mm,” she nods, crosses her arms. “And the other girl?”

You freeze, cut your head up at her. “What other girl?”

“What do you mean? The girls that came out right behind you. Same sad face? Kinda got a Natalie Portman look to her?”

“I . . .” you shake your head. “I didn’t know she came out after me, I must have left by then.”

“Who is she?”

You give her a shrug, “I don’t know.”

“His girlfriend?”

You huff, “Guess so.”

“Ah, so, some people online actually got it right. Huh, look at that.”

“Look, if the point of all of this is to keep me away from him, you can stop now. I don’t plan on seeing him ever again.”

The doorbell rings, as if on queue, and Everest instantly gives you a look. “What?” you ask. “I don’t know who it is. Your guess is as good as mine.”

She scoffs at you, and turns around, marching towards the door with a certain determination. She pulls it open, and immediately puts her hand on her hip. “You gotta be fucking kidding me.”

“Oh,” Matthew gasps. “Uh, oh . . . fuck . . . sorry, I must — I must have the wrong house.”

“You sure do, Romeo.”

You stand from the couch, your face laced with shock and anger and confusion, “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Don’t engage, [y/n], what the hell?” Everest interjects.

You roll your eyes and cross your arms over your chest. “How the hell did you find my house?” you direct at Matthew.

“Oh, what?” he scoffs. “Like you’re the only one around here who can play stalker?”

“Go home, Matthew.”

“Five minutes. I’m asking you for five minutes. You can time me if you want.”

“Go back to California, Matthew.”

“Look, I know I fucked up. I know, but —“

“Do you?” you snap. You take slow, calculated steps towards the front door, and your voice is lowering to a rumble. “Do you know that you fucked up? Because, if you did, if you truly knew just how badly you fucked up, then you would leave. You would get on a fucking plane and leave, and you would never come back!”

The way Matthew is looking at you right now.Like he can’t fathom what’s happening. Like he is trying his very best not to feel defeated. “Can I . . . can I just —“

“No.” Everest says. “You heard her. Fuck off, string bean.”

You walk away, retiring to your kitchen. You try to keep yourself busy, but you’re trembling like mad and you can barely breathe.

Matthew leaves. You know because you hear the door close. Everest comes into the kitchen, and you feel stuck. Frozen to the spot and position you’re in. Your back is to her, and you can’t begin to imagine or guess what look is on her face right now.

She’s quiet for a moment, eyeing you with her arms crossed at her chest. She leans against the entryway and sighs, “Tell me more.”

Ramona walks up your driveway, and it isn’t until she looks up from her phone that she sees Matthew. She notices him, and he notices her, and Ramona tries to act like it didn’t happen, But when Matthew opens his mouth to speak, she blows past him, “I’m not supposed to talk to you.”

“I know,” he says instantly. He is well aware, but it doesn’t stop him from running in front of her, blocking her from your front door. “I know, I know. I’m sorry, but . . . please, can you give this [y/n]?”

Matthew holds out an envelope. It’s bright red, your name is printed on the front of it in his handwriting.

Ramona glances at it, but she quickly glances back up, “Do I look like a mailman to you?”

“She won’t take it from me. She won’t talk to me. She might take it from you.”

“Yeah, or she might fire me for even taking it from you in the first place.”

“[y/n] wouldn’t do that.”

“Yeah, yeah, she’s usually pretty amazing, except for when you’re around, or when you’re brought up, or when you’re fucking with her head. You make her a different person, dude. I want no part of it.”

He nods, looks down, “Fair enough . . . I’ll put it in her mailbox.”

“Yeah, why don’t you do that?” She shrugs, and she continues on by him.

“Damn . . .” Everest says. “You ghosted the guy at the airport?”

“Basically,” you shrug.

“Well, fuck,” she scoffs. “That is some serious great gatsby shit.”

“Yeah, we’ve always had a flair for the dramatic.”

The doorbell rings, and you both turn your heads sharply towards the entrance. “You don’t think he would come back, do you?” Everest asks as she walks to the door.

“Well, he never listens much to anything I say, but he’s probably a little scared of you.”

She laughs, and when she opens the door, she tells you it’s only Ramona, who walks in quickly, looking for you. She gives you a soft smile, and joins you in the kitchen as Everest follows close behind.

“So,” Ramona pips. “What’s the game plan?”

“You and [y/n] come to my office in the city and we’ll figure it out. Hey, did you pass him on your way out?” Everest asks her.

“Uh, who?”

“Matthew,” you tell her. “He was just here, you didn’t see him?”

“He was here?” Ramona questions, putting on a look of bewilderment. “When?”

“Just now. He left right before you got here.” Everest explains.

“Holy shit,” Ramona says. “What’d he want?”

“[y/n].”

“So,” you interrupt. “Your office? Now? We can go ahead and get going.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Everest stops you in your tracks, throwing her hands up. “Not so fast, you . . . you need to shower first.”

You look down at your outfit. You’re still dressed in Claire’s clothes and they’re completely disheveled. You haven’t showered or brushed your teeth since the last time you had sex, and the very thought makes you feel dirty. You look exactly how you feel. You sigh, “Fair enough.”

“We’ll wait in the car,” Everest nods, and motions to Ramona to follow her.

“What are we gonna do with her?” she says to Ramona as soon as they’re out of the house and walking down the driveway.

“I don’t know, she’s my boss . . . I can only help so much.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve known [y/n] for a long time now, and she’s never needed saving. But, something tells me we’re going to have to keep her away from this one.”

“From Matthew?” Ramona stops in her tracks.

“Well,” Everest stops, turns around to look at her. “She’s a grown woman. She’ll do what she wants. But, that zombie in there,” she motions to the house. “Who walks around the city in her pajamas for a man, is not [y/n]. Atleast, not the world’s [y/n]. People love her. She’s one of the few celebrities that’s kind and passionate and isn’t problematic. I’m just being proactive here.”

“Proactive?”

“She says she’s done with him. She told him she’s done with him. Now, we will just keep her on that path. Few months later, she and the rest of the world forget this ever happened and everything is back to normal.”

“You sound very sure of all of this.”

“Yeah, well, I like my schedules and I happen to like [y/n] so I better be sure. Come on, our ride’s further down the driveway,” Everest continues walking. While Ramona is stuck in place.

“Hey! Uh,” Ramona stutters, suddenly, loudly, causing Everest to turn around once again. “I think I left my water bottle in the house. I’ll meet you in the car?”

“Okay,” Everest eyes her. “It’s just around the corner. And tell [y/n] to hurry up.”

“I will!”

Ramona waits for Everest to continue down the driveway, and when she’s just far enough, Ramona turns around and acts as if she’s walking back up to your front door. When she’s positive Everest has made it to the car, she runs over to your mailbox. She opens it slowly, so it doesn’t creak as loud. The bright red envelope is the only thing in there, and she takes it out quickly. She looks at it for a moment, asks herself what the hell she’s doing. But she doesn’t have time to think right now, you could walk out at any moment. She closes your mailbox, shoves the envelope in her bag, and walks down the driveway.

Matthew Gubler, himself, is a disruption in the space-time continuum.

When you start tallying up the days, it just doesn’t make sense. Some days, every second feels like it’s crawling by. You’ll be in class, at the head of the class, and you’re surprised when your lesson plan ends atleast ten minutes early. And some days, time moves too fast. You find yourself running late for things, events, important people or things, which isn’t like you.

You call it Matthew Brain, and you keep that term to yourself. It happened fifteen years ago. And it’s happening now. It’s a slow, steady descent back to earth, back to reality. Time isn’t real with him, and you think that’s the reason you can’t remember much of your senior year. It’s a rush, a high to even be near him, and it’s the ultimate collapse when he’s gone. Really gone. Out of the life, for the second time.

Time has reset.

And what feels like one month with Matthew Gubler, only turns out to be four days.

You’re on a journey back to earth, and you haven’t even reached the bottom yet. It’s coming, but not now, you thought. You have time to prepare. And this time you’ll be ready. Ready to hit rock bottom, and spend another fifteen years digging yourself out. You have time, you’re sure of it.

Then Ramona comes into your office. She notices you crying, and you have to twirl around in your chair while you wipe the tears away. “Shit, Ro,” you try to laugh. “What’s up?”

“Uh, your afternoon class?” she reminds you. “With the girls at the community center? . . . What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

A lot. Not anything that you can really talk to Ramona about. And each day is something different. Like today, you’re feeling like a fucking idiot. You feel unbelievably stupid and lost and question why anyone in their right mind would choose to learn anything from you. You feel defeated, and you can’t get the look on that girl’s face out of your head.

You turn to Ramona with a soft smile, “I’m fine. I forgot about the class, thank you for reminding me. I just have to grab a few things before I go.”

“Well,” she sets her bag down in one of the chairs on the opposite side of your desk. She takes a seat in the other, “You’ve got some time, I haven’t even called the ride yet.”

You eye her, suspicious furrowing your eyebrows, “Oh, don’t do that.”

“Do what?” she seems genuinely confused.

“Sit there and feel sorry for me. I don’t need pity. I’m alright.”

“I’ve never seen you cry before . . . I’m just worried.”

“And I appreciate that, kid, I really do. But you don’t have to be, alright?”

“. . . okay.” she shrugs.

“Anyways,” you change the subject. “How much time do I have until I’ve gotta be out of here?”

“Um, I can call you a ride now, it should be here in about, ten minutes?” Ramona pulls her phone from her pocket, and holds it up as she dials the number.

“Sounds good,” you nod.

She leaves the room to make the call, and when she closes the door, you release a big sigh. As if you’d been holding it in the whole time she was here. You get up from your chair, and walk around the desk. Not paying attention, you stub your toe into the adjacent chair, so hard that the chair falls to the ground.

“Ow! Son of a b—“ your yelp is cut off by a painful groan, and your reach down to hold your foot. You look out in front of you, and Ramona’s entire bag has spilled out across the floor. “Fuck,” you mumble and instantly begin to clean it up.

It’s bright red. And it sticks out like a sore thumb. You reach over to grab it, but only because you recognized his hand writing. You run your fingers over your name, and your head is starting to hurt from the amount of pure confusion.

The door swings open, “Okay, they’ll be here in fifteen, but you have some wiggle room —“ Ramona stops when she sees the item in your hand.

You stand up straight, look her in the eye. She’s shaking. She’s trembling, and there are already tears in her eyes.

“I . . . can explain,” she says.

“Then explain.”

“Matthew . . . wanted me to — to give that to you.”

“When?”

“When, um, when he was at your house on Saturday.”

“You said you didn’t see him. You acted like you didn’t even know he had been there. You took this from him?” your voice goes up at slight octave. Not by much, but it stills cuts Ramona like a knife.

“No! No, I didn’t take it from him. I told him to put it in the mailbox. Which he did, but then I . . .”

“You? You what? Went into my mailbox and took it? Are you kidding?”

“It was crazy! I know! It was absolutely insane of me! But—But Everest was saying all these things about protecting your image, and being proactive, I just wanted to help. I thought —“

“Everest? Everest knew about this?”

“No. No. I took it when she wasn’t looking, and I just, I thought maybe if you didn’t know about the letter, you would be able to move on, y’know? Heal.”

“That was not your decision to make.”

“I know. [y/n], I’m so sorry. I can’t — I can’t even begin —“

“You’re right,” you interrupt her. “You can’t.”

You look down at the envelope in your hands, and shake your head. “God, Ro, I can barely look at you right now.”

“I’m sorry . . .”

You nod.

“I’ll . . . go wait for the car,” she nods, sadly and apologetically exiting the room.

You close the door behind her, and press your back against it. You slide to the floor, and bring the evelope close to your face. The day is not over, and you may need all night to take this in. You are not mentally prepared for whatever is in your hands, but, you rip it open anyway.

There’s a thin piece of paper inside. You pick it up, and it feels so frail that you worry it might rip. You set it on top of the envelope, and examine it. Your eyes dot over the page, until you realize, it’s not a letter at all.

American Airlines

[y/n] [y/l/n]

Seat: 14A

May Sixteenth, 2002

It’s a plane ticket. From fifteen years ago.

One you’ve never seen.

One you’ve never touched.

And now that it’s in your hands, you wish you never knew it existed.

[your-nerd-is-showing]

Wow thanks for responding to my ask so fast! 🥰 Now what kinks do you think all of the JJK men have?

JJK men kinks Headcannons:

This is getting it’s own damn Headcannon omg this is too good hehehe. I had to do some research on this one it was a lot of fun to write! This is just a general kink/fetish headcannon not really going into specifics because I’m doing 4 characters.

Satoru:

~ He has the most kinks/fetishes out of anyone. (This is facts since he is a manwhore xD)

His biggest Kinks:

~ Food kink, Master kink, bondage and amaurophilia.

~ More specifically on these kinks his food kink is geared towards desserts.

~ If he can eat it off of you he will.

~ His Master kink plays into his Daddy kink and his Domination kink. (Satoru just loves to dominate you in the bedroom)

~ He loves the Master/Pet dynamics.

~ His bondage kink also plays into amaurophilia he loves to use his blindfold on you.

~ He may love the blindfold more than the rope it just makes him so hard to see you wear his blindfold.

His other Kinks:

~ Dirty Talk

~ Roleplaying

~ Loves to roleplay with you it’s a staple in the bedroom.

~ Odaxelagina (biting kink)

~ Loves to bite you and be bitten.

~ Orgasm Denial

~ Mean Master can edge you on for hours until you cry.

~ Pteronphilia (Tickling Kink)

~ This man loves to be tickled and laugh like a little kid.

~ Spanking.

~ He loves to smack your ass with his giant hands.

~ Shibari

~ His favorite from of rope bondage.

~ Teasing

~ He could tease you until you cry.

~ Switch Kink.

~ Not very often but there are those rare times when he wants to be dominated by you.

~ He loves to see you take control of The Worlds Strongest™ it makes him so hard.

Fetishes:

~ His biggest fetish is anasteemaphilia (small girls) he loves someone petite who he can toss around in the bedroom.

~ Agoraphilia (public sex)

~ Satoru is a freak and loves public sex.

~ His favorite public place to have sex is in the movie theater or in the woods.

~ Collars (for his loving Pet)

~ He buys you so many custom collars it’s not even funny.

~ He just loves to see you wear them knowing he owns you.

~ Corsetry

~ He is obsessed with corsets he loves how you look in them.

~ Exhibitionism

~ He loves to masturbate for you on camera (especially at work he will randomly video chat you and tell you to go somewhere private so he can give you a show)

~ He also loves when you give him a show.

~ Face Sitting

~ He loves when you ride his face and squirt all over it.

~ Katoptronophilia (fetish for having sex in front of mirrors)

~ He just loves to watch himself in the mirror as he fucks you senseless.

~ Mixophilia (recording sex)

~ Fuck watching porn he would rather get off to watching him fuck you.

~ Wax play (giving and receiving)

~ Satoru loves the feeling of hot wax on his skin.

Kento:

~ He is just a Dom all around and you’re his good little Pet.

His biggest kinks:

~ Master kink, Daddy kink, Dom kink.

~ He just loves to Dominate you in every way and you’re so submissive you take it like a good girl.

~ Mean Dom is mean.

~ All three of those go hand in hand he just wants to be in control of you all the time.

His Other Kinks:

~ Roleplaying and bondage.

~ His absolute favorite thing to do because there are so many scenarios he comes up with.

~ Usually has to do with you being tied up and helpless.

~ Orgasm denial.

~ He can be so mean when it comes to this.

~ He will deny you an orgasm for hours most of the time until you’re over stimulated and crying.

Fetishes:

~ Spanking because he is a Sadist.

~ With your consent he loves to manhandle you when he has had a bad day at work.

~ You love it when he is rough with you it makes you so wet.

~ A slight degrading fetish.

~ Plays into his rough days at work.

~ You'll do anything to make him feel better even if it means degrading you sometimes but you don’t mind.

~ Dacryphilia.

~ This man loves to make you cry. (He can be such an ass and have no remorse)

Megumi:

~ He is mostly a sub with a mommy kink.

His biggest kinks:

~ Little/Submissive who loves when Mommy ties him up.

~ Megumi being so powerful he is so Submissive he loves being told what to do and you’re more than happy to dominate him.

~ Being a Little plays into his Mommy kink.

~ He loves roleplaying Mommy/Little dynamics. (God can he be anymore precious?)

~ Rope bondage is his favorite.

~ He loves to be tied up and feel helpless.

Other kinks:

~ Switch.

~ On bad days he wants to be a switch and dominate the fuck out of you.

~ It helps relieve his anger.

~ You absolutely love it when he wants to dominate you.

Fetishes:

~ His only fetish is corsetry and sexy lingerie sets.

~ He just loves to see you all dressed up for him in the sexy lingerie he buys for you.

Yuji:

~ This lil cinnamon bun loves to be praised!

Kinks:

~ TBH I see Yuji pretty vanilla when it comes to kinks and fetishes (sorry guys he’s just so innocent)

~ Praise and switch.

~ Praise the fuck out if this sweet boy.

~ It just makes him so hard!

~ He loves to hear what a good job he is doing when he fucks you.

~ Mostly he is the one in control but he isn’t mean or rough. (Not really his thing)

~ But he loves it when you’re rough with him.

~ He loves to be told what to do and how to do it.

Fetishes:

~ Exhibitionism

~ He loves to call you and put a show on for you!

~ Lingerie.

~ He loves to see you in sexy outfits.

~ Breast worship/Partialism.

~ He loves your boobs more than anything.

@mguqiis @sassyeahhhh @ivorylyon @g-umi

[gallickingun]

break the glass {in case of emergency} || t.s.

SUMMARY: Todoroki Shouto needs help, so he hires a nanny. More specifically, he hires you. 

PAIRING: Pro Hero!Shouto x Fem!Reader RATINGS: M/E+ WARNINGS: language, smut, slight violence, etc. WORD COUNT: 21.2k+

LINKS: ao3 | masterlist | mobile | writing tag

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* TAG LIST *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ is at the end of this post!

AUTHOR’S NOTE: this is the definition of a labor of love. big thanks to @k-atsukidayo, @freckledoriya, and @lady-bakuhoe for keeping me sane. and super shoutout to my love @shoutogepi bc she’s been my hype lady! i hope this lives up to everyone’s expectations because wow has it been a wild ride ♡

if you like this, feel free to request more HERE!

Shouto’s feet are trudging through the proverbial thick of life.

His ankles twist the further he tries to advance, and with every step forward, another tragedy breaks the fragility of the glass box he now lives in. The etching begins at the center, spreading out into cracks like lightning, threatening to shatter what remains of the clear cage.

And yet, Shouto must put on the mask, he must pretend that everything is fine when in fact he really would rather crumble to the floor with his hands in his hair. There are nights when he presses his palms into his temples, wishing and praying that someone out there might be listening so they can help him to will away the painful throbbing between his eyes. He can’t whimper, can’t make a sound, because if he does, if he withdraws the curtain and allows the world to know how inundated he truly is, then it will all be for naught.

“Daddy?”

Shouto blinks harshly to bring himself out of the vortex of his trepid thoughts, “Hey, love, what are you doing awake?”

Her teetering body scrambles into the room, pawing at the bedsheets as a broken sob parts her lips and shakes her chest. Shouto leans down to tuck his hands under her armpits, jolting her upward so she’s pressed into his chest. Her small hands grip onto the skin of his pectorals, thin fingernails scraping at his flesh. Shouto winces, but cradles her around the back regardless, the warmth of her heated cheek on his collarbone alarming.

“Did you have a bad dream?” he asks, soothing one of his hands through her hair while the other rests splayed against her back, dipping gently to try and ease her crying. She doesn’t answer, hiccupping cries making her whole body shake as she clutches onto him.

“Hey,” Shouto presses his lips to the crown of her head before coaxing her head backward. He tucks his thumb underneath her chin, “Talk to me.”

The little girl’s lower lip is wobbling, eyes doe-like and full of tears, thick white eyelashes dense with the little saltine droplets. She palms at Shouto’s face with one hand, seeming ancient when she whispers, “Why did they take mommy from me?”

And just like that, the glass box shatters.

Shouto feels the explosion, but maintains his composure regardless of the impact. Shards lodge into his throat and lungs, painful twinges jutting into his insides. His voice feels jagged when he speaks next, grating against his esophagus and tongue, “Sometimes the world just isn’t fair, love. I wish I had a better answer for you, but there’s not always a perfect explanation.”

Her bejeweled turquoise eyes behold him, thumbs against his mouth as she stares up at him. Glassy irises are blown wide by frightened pupils, “I miss her.”

She collapses back into him like a star shattering in the galaxy, explosive tears dripping down his chest as she tremors. The implosion of her life plays before him in the form of an empty half of the bed, a bare side of the bathroom, and a nightstand still left unembellished despite having been there for almost two years.

“I miss her too,” Shouto murmurs into the child’s silvery hair.

If he sheds a few silent tears of his own, she does not admonish him for it, instead laying quietly until her tears and shaking sobs have exhausted her tiny body. Her lips part and she begins to drool into the pocket of his collarbone, hands twitching against his chest.

A gentle melody vibrates Shouto’s lungs as he rolls himself to the side, carefully displacing her from his body to the empty half of the bed. The toddler grabs for him as soon as the warmth of his body disappears, and Shouto focuses all of his energy into regulating the warmth of his left side. He brushes his thumb over her cheek, pushing her silken hair from her mouth so it does not stick with her drool.

He chuckles, tucking her locks behind her ear, cupping her cheek with his warm palm, “Good night, Hana.”

The only acknowledgement he receives is a gentle snore that flares her nostrils and expands her chest, small body only looking tinier in the large expanse of the king-sized bed. Shouto lies there in wonder, his heated hand keeping in contact with her body until she halts her shivering.

How did I get so lucky? He thinks to himself, the threat of tears pressing intensely against the backs of his eyelids. He can’t close them, though, because he’s afraid he might miss a moment of his daughter’s sorrow.

Shouto leans forward to press a kiss to her furrowed brow, the familiar weight of his lips on her head giving her the comfort she needs to release the tension in her sleep. Her expression mellows, the crinkles in her forehead smoothing until she looks something akin to peaceful, ethereal.

The last thing Shouto sees before his mind succumbs to the lure of unconsciousness is her silvery hair glistening in the moonlight of the bedroom, her tiny palm wrapped around his index finger, clutching on like he were her lifeline.

≫ ──── ≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫ ──── ≪

“I can handle this on my own.”

“This isn’t just another assignment. This is your daughter, Shouto.”

His nostrils flare, “Yeah, and?”

Fuyumi rolls her eyes, containing herself by taking a deep breath through the nose. Shouto’s eyes wander as Hana teeters around the kitchen with a few crayons and a plush rabbit.

“There’s no reason to keep yourself from admitting you need help, Shouto,” Fuyumi grits her teeth and attempts to appear somehow cheerful, even if just for Hana’s sake. She flexes her jaw, “This is an insanely large house, brother. You could use the extra hands.”

Shouto narrows his eyes, the scar over his left side appearing even more intimidating when his expression shifts, “You’re not moving in here, ‘Umi. I’ll figure something else out.”

His sister runs a hand through her hair, shaking her head as she turns her attention to the toddler bobbing her head to an invisible jukebox as she colors another page in her book. Fuyumi licks her lips, “Listen, will you at least call her? She’s great with kids, and she’s between jobs right now. It could at least turn into a short-term benefit for the both of you.”

After a moment of aggressive silence, Shouto nods. He decides, internally, that his agreement is purely out of the recognition that it will force his sister to let the topic rest.

“I’ll call her.”

“Thank you,” Fuyumi’s chest deflates, releasing a pent-up breath she had been holding in unexpectedly. She sifts her fingers through Hana’s hair, thumbing at her ear gingerly, “I know you hate that I loom over you like another mother, but I just want to make sure that you’re both taken care of.”

Shouto’s expression softens, eyes turning from jeweled beads to something more pliable. His chest tightens at her admission, the reality of their situation doing nothing to lighten the burden on his shoulders. He takes a step towards his sister, praying she can see the sincerity in his eyes as he speaks, “I’ll be okay, ‘Umi. I promise.”

Fuyumi allows herself a moment to take in the sight of Shouto’s twenty-one month old child, watching as she scribbles her crayons onto the coloring book in front of her with as much precision as she can muster. A somber smile tugs on her lips and she sighs, closing her eyes as she readjusts her glasses, “I just worry about you, is all. Taking over a large agency is a lot of work, especially with the added pressure of being a good father.”

“I will be a good father,” Shouto is quick to refute her lofty accusations, the intensity of his voice causing Hana to turn her attention from her book to her father. He narrows his eyes at his sister, “I won’t turn out like dad.”

Holding her hands up in mock-surrender, Fuyumi takes a step back, “I know, Shouto. Trust me, I know.” Her eyes are wide and Shouto feels fear grip his spine like a cold shadow, curling up into him and suffocating his throat. He wants to gasp but he cannot show weakness, not now. Fuyumi inhales a short breath, “You’re the furthest thing from our father. Which is why I think you should seriously consider reaching out, getting another pair of hands on deck.”

Shouto considers her, tilting his head. The implications that his ability at caring for his daughter makes his chest constrict, heart aching in a way he’s never felt before. His eyes dart downward, catching on the silver hair of his child as she sits on the floor, grubby hands gripping at crayons while she smears color all over the pages of her book.

“I’ll call her,” he repeats his words from earlier. “I will.”

Fuyumi reaches out to take her brother into a hug, breathing her peaceful nature onto him like a ghost begging to infiltrate his body. Shouto takes a long drag, lips parted when he wraps his arms around his sister’s smaller frame.

As his sister is leaving, Hana’s eyes focus on the door. Todoroki can’t help himself wonder for a moment if she believes that someone else might come walking back across the threshold, if only she were to look at just the perfect moment. The sun shines on Fuyumi’s figure, forcing a silhouette onto the floorboards of the entryway. If he were to squint the right way, it’s possible he could see her outline there, darkness shaped by the light.

Shouto must bite the inside of his cheek to keep his mind still.

≫ ──── ≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫ ──── ≪

Later that evening, when Shouto has his daughter resting in the crook of his arm, an educational children’s program playing on the television for background noise, he pulls his phone from his pocket to sift through text messages and emails. There are dozens of alerts to sort through, but the one thing his fingers keep returning to is the sight of your contact information in a message forwarded to him by his sister.

If you are every as bit as wonderful and kind as Fuyumi says you are, then Shouto is frightened of what you are capable of, based on your resume and photograph alone.

Not only do you have a stunning personality – caring, gentle, organized – but you have a beautiful outward appearance as well. Shouto notices the curve of your lips, the structure of your jaw and cheeks, and the way your eyes lilt upward at the camera.

The one thing Shouto hates the most about himself, the very being engrained within him to emulate, is that he was brought up worrying about these different kinds of things – the anatomy of a potential candidate.

It’s the Todoroki within him, the lurking presence of his father threatening to stifle his breathing, to suffocate him until Enji is the only glowing ember left in his charred, desolate soul. Shouto sits in the dark, the looming reality that he may very well end up exactly like his father forcing him to press the little green button at the bottom of the screen.

You pick up on the second ring, “Hello?”

“H-Hi there,” Shouto’s voice sticks in his throat.

A gentle laugh from the other end of the line makes his heart stop beating within the confines of his chest, “What can I do for you?”

≫ ──── ≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫ ──── ≪

Shouto has never been so worried about the interior design of his house before.

He realizes suddenly that there are no photographs on the walls, no pictures hanging to tell the sad tale of his life story. The recognition of this little detail only further throws him into a darkness he knows he won’t ever be able to fully crawl out of. Every day he must fight this beast, this unseen presence that sits on his shoulders, forcing him to carry the burden. He’s never wanted to tell his life story, not with the way it played out, especially not now.

Abusive father. Hospitalized mother. Deceased wife.

When the doorbell rings, he pulls himself from his stupor to step forward into the foyer. Shouto takes a deep breath and curls his toes into the rug to ground his body as he turns the doorknob. It’s as if the door stands for something much weightier, a distance currently built between you and him, something he can control.

But when the heavy door gives way to the sunshine outside, your body casting an elongated shadow on the hardwood, Shouto’s ankles lock and his fingers still against metal.

“Todoroki Shouto?”

The sound of your voice, completely unadulterated from the natural static of a phone, makes Shouto’s head spin. He nods, swallowing so hard his throat bobs, “Yes, please come in.”

You kick your shoes off as soon as you step across the threshold, tucking them to the side near the other pairs of dress shoes and sneakers accompanied by little ballerina slip-ons and tiny formal shoes. He notices the way your eyes linger on the pink ballerina slippers that aren’t really shoes at all, more like glorified socks, and he has to hold back a chuckle.

Shouto raises his hand in a greeting, kicking the door closed with his ankle as he turns to face you, “Thank you for meeting me.”

“I appreciate you interviewing me,” you answer him, reaching forward to meet his handshake. You’re grinning when he makes eye contact with you, cheeks round with your smile. “I know that your schedule is very hectic.”

Shouto can’t think about it too much or it makes his brain throb within his skull. He grits his teeth, “Yes, my assistant was able to push out a few other unimportant meetings for this. I do apologize, but my daughter is currently with my sister. I thought it may be best for us to meet first and then decide if it will be a good fit before we introduce her into the situation.”

“I can respect that.” You smile, wrapping your arms around your waist as you stand in front of him. The surprising warmth from his hand sits with you, palm tingling even as it’s tucked between your body. A nervous laugh parts your lips as your feet shuffle, “I wouldn’t want to get too attached to her if you didn’t like me.”

Shouto chuckles, his eyes darting to his toes, “Oh, it’s not you I would be afraid of being incompatible. Hana can be very picky.”

Your thumbs dig into your biceps, rolling your lips together as you consider your reply. A soft padding forward of your feet on the dense rug makes little sound, but still breaks Todoroki’s gaze from the floor.

“You’d be surprised,” your left eye dropping in a wink. “I have quite the effect on people. Especially those who stand three feet and shorter.”

He is shocked to find himself grinning at your jesting remark, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he shuffles a step backward from you. You tilt your head, eyes washing over his tall frame, “I’ve been doing this a long time, Mr. Todoroki. Usually children are withdrawn from their caretakers because they fear we’re trying to replace someone more important in their lives.”

You are closer to him now as you stride across the tile. Todoroki feels his chest constrict when you speak, “I’m not here to be anything more than supplemental. You set the boundaries, Mr. Todoroki, and those are what I will abide by without a shadow of a doubt. I’m here to do as much or as little as you need of me.”

It takes him a moment to recuperate, faltering before he replies, “I appreciate that. I-I’ve never done this before. I wasn’t planning on it.”

Shouto notices the way you visibly shrink away from him, understanding the subliminal tones in his words. He holds a hand in the air, palm face-up, “No, that’s not, I just-”

A sigh parts his lips and he looks back down at his feet, but you’re careening forward to save the day before he can dig himself further into a hole he’s already drowning in. You chuckle, “I don’t think many people choose to have children only to set them into the hands of a nanny, Mr. Todoroki. You needed help, that much is clear, and I don’t blame you for reaching out. I think being able to push through your pride and do what is best for your child is not something you should be ashamed of.”

Oh yes, Todoroki thinks to himself with a smirk on his lips, hand outstretched towards you again, He’s going to like you just fine.

≫ ──── ≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫ ──── ≪

You did not imagine your initial meeting with Todoroki Hana to go like this.

Shouto’s voice is mildly frantic on the other line, which is telling in it of itself. Even upon your first meeting, you knew that he was to be a mild-mannered, easy-going man. He does not seem to be a person who is easily upset by much, so the lilt in his voice is a clear indicator to his mood.

“It’s okay,” you try to remain calm in spite of his fear, praying that your clear head can help him to unwind. “I’m sure she’s fine, Mr. Todoroki. I’m already in the car, on the way to the daycare right now. I’ll go pick her up and call you as soon as I have my eyes on her.”

A breath is exhaled from the other end of the receiver, and you can imagine the way his chest deflates at your words. You smile to yourself, phone pressed to your ear as you drive down the highway, “It will only take me twenty minutes. Until then, try to keep yourself busy, okay?”

The two of you exchange pleasantries before you close your phone, slipping it back underneath your thigh before focusing on the road again. You were thankful that Shouto had already installed a car seat into back row, allowing you to go pick up Hana without having to do too much extra preparation.

Driving to the daycare facility takes eighteen minutes on one stretch of highway. You feel your palms sweat the entire way, recalling Todoroki’s words about Hana’s injuries she sustained on the playground not very long ago. The tremor in his voice sent a jolt down your spine, your bones rattling around in your body as you imagine the dozens of different cuts or gashes she might have on her body.

And then there’s the reality that this will be the first time you ever lay eyes on Todoroki Hana. It will be your reckoning day, the deciding moment of happenstance when she makes the choice of whether or not you are worthy of her acceptance.

You park and walk into the building, your eyes wavering over the entire intricate structure. It’s a formation of pillars and high roofing, accented with filigree of metal curved into beautiful shapes. The price point of this facility does not go over your head, given the marble pillars look genuine, smooth and rounded in all the right places. You run your fingertips over the cool stone as you walk to the thick, mahogany door. The doorknob is sparkling gold, as if someone polished it when they saw you park.

All the details wrapped into a pristine package ease your mind about the salary that Todoroki Shouto is paying you. Originally, you’d wanted to fight him on it, but you acquiesced into silence after taking note of his watch and the name brand of his suit jacket.

Your hand shoves at the front door, weighted and dense, and you step up to the front desk. Resting your forearms on the top of the divider, you smile down at her, “Hi, I’m here to pick up Todoroki Hana.”

It’s clear this woman has never seen you before by the way her eyes gawk over your appearance. You may not be dressed as pristinely as she might like, but you still look rather presentable, given the time restraints you were under to come pick up the young girl.

She tilts her head as if considering you like prey before grabbing up the phone on her desk, muttering a few words into the receiver. As she hangs up, she holds out a clipboard, “We’ll need a copy of your ID. Mr. Todoroki called ahead to let us know you’d be coming, but we’d just like confirmation. For Hana’s safety.”

It all makes sense, and is rather sound policy, but the curl of her lips when she says it forces a vat of acid into your stomach. You swallow your retort that is sitting on your tongue like a knife and gently take the board from her hand.

As you’re filling out the paperwork, the sound of little footsteps starts down the hallway. You tilt your head, pen stilled in your grip, awaiting what feels like your very own doomsday. This little almost two-year-old holds your fate in her tiny, grubby hands.

You stand and replace the clipboard onto the front desk, sliding your ID along with it. Turning your head, you await the arrival of your own two-foot-tall guillotine. You twist your hands together, knuckles wrung out white as you wait for Hana to approach the curve of the hallway and seal your fate. You know you should not be this anxious over a child who has just broken into real sneakers, but the rational part of you never wins out in these kinds of situations.

Todoroki Shouto is paying you something on the upside of expensive, offering you a generous starting bonus in addition to your typical pay so you could start working earlier than expected and still make your rent payments without worry. It would be a shame to lose that thick paycheck just because you could not win over a teetering toddler who probably babbles about princesses and the color purple most of the day.

“Hana, it looks like your-”

“Nanny,” you interject as you hear the voice echoing down the hall, attempting to avoid any confusion if possible. You brush your thighs free of any imaginary dust and crumbs so you can hide the shaking of your joints, “I work for Mr. Todoroki.”

When they finally round the corner, you stop breathing.

The little girl standing in front of you cannot be much over two feet tall, bright blue eyes shining as she drinks you in apprehensively. Her pupils shrink the closer she gets, bejeweled eyes swallowed by the inkiness. Her hands fidget at her sides while she stutter-steps towards you. The long locks of pale, silver hair reach midway down her back, the curled tips giving her an almost doll-like appearance with their perfection. Her full lips are drawn inward, tentative, much like her father.

And there, covering her right eye, a gauze bandage attempting to staunch and protect a wound.

You cannot help the way your eyes widen at the sight of her injured face, your hands ready to snag her up and race her to the nearest emergency room. Todoroki hadn’t told you the extent of her injuries, just that she had an accident on the playground, and someone needed to pick her up immediately.

“Hi Hana,” you squat down so you can appear to her at eye-level, an effort to put her at ease. “Your daddy heard you took a fall outside with your friends and he wanted me to come pick you up. Are you okay?”

She has obviously been crying, cheeks dark red and swollen, her visible eye puffy from tears. Your inner nature is telling you to reach out and comfort her, taking her by the hand and drawing her up into your arms to give her a gentle squeeze. But you know that there is a time and place and threshold for each form of affection, so you withdraw.

“How bad is it?” You turn your gaze upward, calves screaming as you shift your weight. You seek out the eyes of her teacher, trying to gauge your reaction based on her body language, “It doesn’t look like it’s bleeding too much now, and she’s rather calm. Was her eye directly injured?”

“No, it’s just around the orbital,” her teacher runs fingertips through Hana’s hair, “I don’t think she’ll need stitches, but she will definitely need this wound cleaned up by a professional. I know Mr. Todoroki has a nurse he usually calls.”

It’s as if these women are trying to suffocate you with their knowledge of Todoroki, almost like them knowing he has a nurse, or not knowing he’d hired you until today, would win them some sort of award or accolade. You try your best not to let your stomach turn at the sight of them, desperate and petty.

“Hana?”

She tilts her head up at you, another round of tears welling up in her eyelids. You wonder if it is from stress, pain, or a mixture of that and the uncomfortable feeling she can sense from the way you’re interacting with the daycare staff. She sniffles and wipes her face with the back of her forearm, careful of her injured eye, “Y-Yes ma’am?”

So Shouto has taught her manners.

You attempt to keep your composure at the sound of her tinny, trepid voice echoing out the words that are normally rare for even full-grown adults to use. In reaching out your hand, you notice she does not shrink away from you, not this time, “I think we ought to go have that nurse of your dad’s check out your eye, what do you think?”

There is silence for a moment, genuine concern evident in her sparkling irises. She blinks quickly, like she is trying to figure you out before she makes her decision in response to your question. You don’t want to clue her in to the fact that, at the end of the day, it’s not really her choice to make – that plight between staying here and going somewhere else has been completely left up to you.

“You know,” you’re whispering now, dramatically hiding your mouth behind the palm of your hand, pretending that that others standing around can’t hear you. “I think that I saw this cool ice cream shop on the way here. You think you could help me try a new flavor?”

This makes her eyes widen, pushing herself up on her tiptoes as she fails to contain her excitement at the suggestion of a sugary treat, “Wh-What flavor?”

You grin, warmth seeping into your chest as a giggle bubbles up in her throat, “I was thinking bubblegum, or maybe cotton candy?”

Hana’s nose scrunches at the suggestion, “No way!”

“Well,” you stand to your full height, hands on your hips as you pout, “what would you rather have then?”

She is full-on smiling now, cheeks drawn upward so her dimples can dip into her cheeks on either side, “I like mint w-with choco-chips in it!”

You hold your hand out again, praying that now, after divulging your favorite ice cream flavors, she won’t totally reject you. The last thing you want is for her to force your hand in making a decision to pick her up and take her out of the daycare.

Hana pushes herself up and down on her toes, biting her lip before bursting with a smile, “Y-You really mean it?! Ice cream?”

“I don’t see why not,” you shrug, wriggling your fingers as the other women watch on in amazement as your connection to the child. “I think you deserve it after that nasty fall you took.”

Bouncing towards you, Hana bobs into the air by pushing upward on the balls of her feet. She reaches out and snags your hand into her grip of her own accord, before beginning to tug you to the exit. She is babbling on about all of the ice cream flavors she’s tried, and what they taste like, and the last time she had ice cream was oh so long ago…

“See you later, ladies,” you wave over your shoulder, unable to hide the satisfied smirk making your mouth crooked, “I guess we’re going to get ice cream.”

≫ ──── ≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫ ──── ≪

Hana knows how to buckle herself in, so she’s already clambering up into your car as soon as you have the door open. Her injury is completely forgotten as she bustles up into the seat, climbing in awkwardly before turning around to plop her backside into the curve of the cushions. Her fingers are frantic as she desperately tries to get the straps clicked together so you can be on your way to the nearest ice cream shop. You smile at her struggle, allowing her to settle with a pout before offering her your help.

“I-I can do it!” she insists, eyes misted. “I-I’m a big girl!”

“Oh, no doubt,” you shake your head in reassurance, pursing your lips as you hold your hands up in midair, palms facing her. “I’m just trying to help so we can get to our ice cream just a tad faster.”

Your reasoning seems to be sound, because Hana releases the offending buckle and puts her hands on either side of her car seat to give you enough room to maneuver and snap the contraption in place. Your hands make swift work of the buckles and straps, tightening them to the perfect spot on her chest and hips. She smiles up at you when you’re finished, expectant and excited.

It is strange, the intense desire to protect her that immediately washes over you at first sight. You have to stop yourself from rushing into allowing her between the cracks of your heart. You are frantic to seal them so you can let yourself down easy if this job ends up being as short-term as you’re worried of it becoming.

You pull away from her, face blank, and shut the door as Hana begins to fiddle with the remaining length of the straps around her body. Her fingers swirl around the black fabric and plastic, tugging and pulling, but not hard enough to adjust any of your hard work.

On your way to the parlor, you decide to call Shouto.

“Daddy!”

A relieved sigh sounds from the other end of the receiver, and you can’t help the warmth that blooms in your belly when you grin. Shouto coughs thickly, clearing his throat, “Hey, sweetheart. How are you feeling?”

“I’m okay!” Hana twirls her fingers in midair, watching around like Todoroki may appear out of thin air like his voice echoing in the car. “We’re going to get ice cream!”

“Ice cream?” his voice sounds slightly judgmental, but you try to push it off and pretend it means nothing. You spare a glance over your shoulder, “Tell him what flavor you’re getting, Hana.”

You pull into the drive through window of the ice cream shop, listening as Hana babbles on about the different flavors you two talked about and whether she’ll get a cone or a cup. You put the car in park as the person in front of you orders, swiveling your hips so you can look her in the eye, “I was actually thinking about a milkshake. How does that sound?”

“Ooh,” her eyes grow wider, chubby little hands curling into fists in her lap. She’s practically buzzing at just the thought of it all, “That sounds like fun!”

You chuckle, hand on the gearshift, “Oh, I meant to ask, have you already scheduled the nurse to be at the house? I wasn’t sure if you’d rather it be someone personal to look after her, or if you’d want me to take her to a general hospital.”

“I’ll call Masuyo and have her meet you at the house.” Todoroki’s voice is muffled as he turns to speak with someone else in his office, hand over the receiver. You hear him cough, voice tense, “S-She’s okay, though. Right?”

“I think she’s a strong girl,” you make your voice confident, straightening your spine, “she’ll be fine once we get her cleaned up. Right, Hana?”

You spare one final look at the little girl in the backseat, all bright eyes and buzzing fingertips. She’s already shuddering off of pure energy, and you wonder if sugar was really the best route to go down for her comfort. Either way, she nods her head, enthusiastic about what’s to come next.

“Yes!” She leans forward in her seat, getting closer to his voice, “I can’t wait until you get home, daddy. We’ll play prince and princess, right?”

You can sense the hesitation on Todoroki’s end and your heart turns to granite in your chest. When he speaks, you feel the weight of it settle in your belly, throat tightening.

“I’m not sure, love. I’ll have to see. It’s very busy this afternoon.”

Hana allows her expression to fall for a mere moment. You honestly would not have caught the change in her demeanor if it weren’t for you studying her as Shouto uttered the words. Every bit of enthusiasm that was previously holding her cheeks high is drained. Her face pales and her lips turn downward in a frown, eyes dropped to her hands as she fiddles with her knuckles in her lap.

And yet, almost as soon as she falters, her smile returns, albeit not enough to light up her eyes as it did before. It’s like she is reconstructing a mask that she feels pressured to wear in order to keep her father satiated and undisturbed.

“Oh, that’s okay, daddy,” Hana’s voice is as cheerful as her little strong will can force it to be. She attempts to be dismissive as she waves her hands, despite Shouto unable to see her, “I played princess at school anyway.”

Your heart continues to crack as she says her final line, “I love you, Daddy.”

Shouto exhales, voice breathy when he repeats the sentiment, “I love you more.”

“I love you most.” Hana’s tone lilts then, a crack in her metaphorical armor at his affections despite his absence. She swipes at her face and you wonder if she was crying, because you certainly didn’t see any tears.

Your throat grows thick with emotion, making it difficult for you to tell him goodbye. You roll down your window and rattle off your order, trying to keep a close watch out of the corner of your eye to monitor Hana’s mood and expressions as the moments progress. You feel horrible for intruding on their very personal, private moment, and it only makes your heart wrench more when you see Hana’s glazed eyes unable to focus on one thing in particular. She’s docile, void of emotion as she stares out of the window, watching clouds pass as the world grows darker with the threat of a sunset on the horizon.

You settle the milkshakes into the front seat, finishing up at the drive through window before rolling forward into a vacant parking space. With your foot still on the break, you reach back to hand Hana the small milkshake cup with the straw already pushed through the opening on the lid, “There you go.”

She takes it from you gingerly, small palms wrapping around as much of the cup circumference as she possibly can. Her lips are pouted just enough that you wonder if she’ll take a sip at all. You busy yourself, pretending to clean up trash in the front seat and maneuver things around on the floorboards, waiting on her first drag from the ice cream cup.

But it never comes.

After five minutes of waiting, you press your hand to the passenger’s side headrest and look her in the eye – as much of her pupils that you can catch in spite of her hooded lids. Hana is still dazed, looking into her milkshake cup as if it might have the answers to all of her life’s confusing questions.

“Hana?” Your voice calls her from whatever lull she was in, eyes blinking slow as she connects back to this version of reality. A vague, “Yes?” is uttered from her lips, but she isn’t focused, not just yet. You brush your hand against the top of her knee, quick and gentle, and it does the trick. She blinks one final time before her pupils dilate back to their usual size, gaze settled clearly on your face.

“Did something upset you?” you ask, your hand wrung around the headrest again. “Or do you just not want your milkshake?”

“I dunno,” Hana admits quickly, eyes downturned once she realizes she’s let the emotion slip from her voice. It makes the edges of her words raw and ragged, “I guess I just don’ wan’ it anymore.”

You are persistent; your job is to make her happy and keep her safe, and right now with a milkshake melting in her lap, part of you feels like you’re failing.

“Was it what your dad said?” Your question is asked in a low tone, something you’re trying to use to convey that you are being patient and kind. You take a chance and rest your palm against the car seat armrest, close enough to make contact but not adjacent enough to infringe upon her personal space. You swallow thickly, taking a short breath, “About not being home to play?”

Hana is pinching the straw between her fingers, looking into the little opening as it closes with the squeeze of her fingers. You wonder if she does this often, with tangible objects. Does she ache to control something so much so that she becomes lost in the euphoria of it all?

She sighs, kicking her feet, “Daddy is just always working. It makes me sad sometimes.”

You aren’t sure how to respond, not really. If you had known her for longer, or met Todoroki some other way, you could likely refute her statement. However, there’s truth in what she’s saying, a vulnerability that you weren’t sure you would see from the child so soon.

When she speaks next, Hana reminds you of a full-grown woman, attempting to redirect the conversation from something personal to something vague, “What’id you get?”

Her voice sounds like an echo of her true self, nothing like the way her tone lilted when she first spoke with her father. There is a seemingly eerie mask she has perfected, something both audible and emotional. And it would appear she knows just how to slip it on and off when the time is right, despite her young age.

Then and there you choose to burden yourself with the purpose of breaking her out of her glass box of entrapment.

“I got cookie dough,” you say as you take an over-dramatic sip, crossing your eyes at the sensation of cool ice cream flowing down your throat, “What did you get?”

Her face scrunches inward, nose wrinkling at the bridge, “Y-You know what I got, don’ you? You ordered it for me!”

You make an exaggerated face of confusion, tilting your head backward and tapping your fingertip against your chin. “Hmm,” you nod, agreeing with her accusation, “I guess you’re right, huh?”

“You’re silly,” Hana giggles before going in for her first sip of her milkshake. Her eyes are narrowed downward at the cup, hands cradling it carefully as if it were the most important thing in the world and she might be in danger of spilling it at any moment. Her eyes are wide, doe-like in nature, as she comes up for air, “This is good!”

“Great,” you answer her, switching the gearshift back into drive so you can pull out of the parking lot and out onto the highway to head back to their house.

The remainder of the drive back to the Todoroki residence is spent in moderate silence, gentle music playing on the radio as Hana preoccupies herself with licking every last drop of her milkshake from the straw. She sucks the mint chocolate chip ice cream from her thumb and looks up at you when you park the car in the driveway, “We’re home?”

You unbuckle yourself from your seat and answer her, hopping down from the car to open her door. She’s already working at her buckles, undone the top half, but still struggling with the bottom. By the time you’ve gotten her undone from the chair, she trusts you enough to reach out her arms and ask for you to help her down to the ground so she does not have to clamber down and risk falling onto the concrete.

When the soles of her shoes hit the concrete, she’s reaching up for you, grabbing you around your fingertips to hold on as she walks. You squeeze her hand gently, fishing the keys out with one hand to unlock the door.

The nurse is already inside, set up on the couch. Hana runs straight to her, plopping herself unceremoniously down on the furniture, hand hovering over the patch as she talks with Masuyo about her ice cream experience from just moments ago.

You busy yourself with dinner, prepping meat and vegetables, as Masuyo starts to clean and treat Hana’s wound. It’s another thirty minutes before you start to sear meat on the stovetop when you hear the garage door rattle open unexpectedly. Todoroki shouldn’t be home until later this evening, he texted you after you’d been in line for ice cream to tell you as such.

And yet, when the door opens to reveal his familiar frame, you can’t help the way your jaw unhinges.

“You’re home early,” you mention, flipping the steak pieces in the pan to sear the other side. “Everything okay?”

Todoroki is stunned by how grossly domestic the sight of you in his kitchen is and he’s jarred back into his prior lifetime where he had the full family package. He blinks and takes a short breath, forcing himself away from the swirling blackhole of the past to smile at you, “Yes, well. I decided that my daughter’s health was more important than some paperwork. I had a few of the first-years handle it.”

That is how it starts. Your first day as the new nanny of the Todoroki household.

≫ ──── ≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫ ──── ≪

“Are you sure you got the right color plates?”

“Yes.”

“And what about the cake?”

“Ordered it three weeks ago.”

“How about the-”

“Shouto.”

He turns to look you in the eyes, breath frantic, “What?”

You can’t help but laugh at the wide-eyed expression he wears, all of his emotions blatantly displayed on his face. You take a step toward him, reaching out to cup his elbow, “I’ve got it all handled, okay? Her birthday party isn’t for another week, Shouto. Are you ready for the zoo?”

Todoroki hesitates, gritting his teeth together so harshly that you can see the muscles in his jaw quiver. He turns his palm to press flat against your forearm, heterochromatic gaze seeking you out for some sort of comfort, “Did you need me to pack the bag?”

“No,” you chuckle, forcing yourself to remove your body from his grasp by walking back to the sink to finish up the load of dirty dishes you wanted to get into the wash before you left. You tilt your head to look across the bar at him, “We’re leaving in half an hour.”

Hana comes careening down the hallway, a doll in either hand, her pajamas still crooked on her body. She giggles, bouncing on the balls of her feet before launching herself forward to latch around Todoroki’s calf like an animal, “Daddy!”

Shouto bends at the waist to pluck her up, hands careful under her armpits when he tucks her into his side, “Yes, love, I’m going to the zoo. But it looks like you need a change of clothes.”

“I already laid some out on her dresser,” you pipe up from behind the sink, “but you’ll need to spray her down with sunscreen first, it’s not very cloudy outside today.”

As Shouto turns to walk Hana back to her room, you allow your gaze to linger a moment longer than the ordinary. Ever since you first took this job, you could note Todoroki’s beautifully carved body and stellar facial features. He is built perfectly for the type of Pro Hero that he is – thick muscles wrapped around dense bones, and yet still a relatively lean frame to hold it all into place. Shouto’s face is cut sharp at the jawline, cheekbones stark against his skin. You are sure to admire him whenever you can.

When you hear him and his daughter talking, sharing words and laughs, it only adds to the flame that burns in your belly at the thought of Todoroki Shouto.

There is no doubt in your mind that it is improper to feel the way you do about a client. They should be nothing more than a paycheck and a steppingstone, and yet somehow you have found a way to allow Shouto to wind his pristine claws into you. He’s got you by the heart and it has only been a few months.

You force your hands to work at the dishes, cleaning what remains so you can start the dishwasher. After you’re done, you make your way upstairs towards Hana’s room, where you hear various grunting noises.

A laugh threatens to part your lips and give away your spying secret when you notice Shouto frantically trying to pull the shirt you picked out over the top of Hana’s head. Her arms are stuck in the wrong spots and you can already tell that it’s somehow inside out, but none of that pushes you to step forward and take over.

It’s only when Hana spots you spying in the doorway that you’re coerced into treading into her bedroom. She pouts and Todoroki doesn’t look much happier. He chuckles, “I swear I’m better at this than I look.”

“Oh, I know you’re helpless,” you smirk across at him, squatting in front of Hana to help untangle her from the clothes and put her back in right side up. Her little hands grab for your face, squeezing your cheeks as she surges forward to kiss your nose, “Daddy is helpless, isn’t he?”

You are too busy fussing over Hana’s hair to notice the way that Todoroki drinks you in like he has been parched for years. He cannot stop himself from memorizing the color of your irises, the slope of your nose, the bow of your lips.

The reality that he could even be attracted to you is lost on him – he swore after his wife died that he would never find another woman to replace her. You have only been here a few short weeks and he’s already begun to question his earlier statement.

It’s just the way she is with Hana, he tries to convince himself. I am kidding myself into believing she’s here for us, not just because it’s a job.

And yet, when his gaze connects to yours, Hana babbling about lions and tigers as you slather her down with sunscreen, Todoroki swears that he feels something different.

≫ ──── ≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫ ──── ≪

The day of Hana’s party comes quicker than expected.

You’re frantically spinning around, making sure there is enough food and drink for everyone in addition to trying to keep an eye on the children as they play around on the various structures setup outside.

A group of moms gather at the bar, one of them urging the others to look at you with a sinister lilt in their gaze. You continue to serve everyone at the party, filling drinks, bringing new plates of food, and yet their eyes never waver from you.

When you are cleaning up some stray garbage in the kitchen, the blonde woman near the end of the bar perks up, “Excuse me, nanny, would you mind filling my glass?”

It is like the floodgates have opened, and now they are all asking you for favors. You swallow your pride and do as they say whether that’s food or drink or a new napkin or even cleaning up their garbage. They are all gossiping behind their hands, palms raised to their mouths as if that will do anything to staunch the flow of the conversation, or even make it more difficult for you to hear the way they speak of you.

Your pride takes each hit in stride, attempting to roll the insults off your shoulders while you tend to them kindly. It takes Shouto stepping into the kitchen for your face to falter.

You gaze across the room at him and your strong façade falls away, hands shaking by your sides as you look at the floor in shame. You swallow your self-importance and build your walls back to their full height before looking up at him once more.

Todoroki is fuming, to put it nicely.

His hands are curled into fists, knuckles white and cheeks hot at the sight of your unease. He takes a few strides forward, features softening as he reaches out to press his fingertips into the small of your back.

“Are you okay?” he murmurs into the shell of your ear. His breath is warm, spilling down your spine like molten lava, pooling the heat in your belly and turning your insides to mush. The expanse of his palm splays against your back, the plane of his chest flush with your arm when he stands too close.

You take a short breath, unable to get enough oxygen with him crowding your space like this. It is like he’s thinning the air within a few feet of his body, making it difficult to breathe.

“I’m fine,” your voice is high and thick, nostrils flaring when you make eye contact with one of the women at the bar. She is smirking proudly, head tilted so she can look down her nose at you. You swallow the shards of emotion sticking in your throat and look up at Todoroki, confused at the fury held in his irises, darkening them both so they look almost the same color as his pupils.

He turns and you watch in slow motion as his jaw hinges open, anxiety gripping your throat tightly. Your body moves before your mind can catch up; you shift your feet, so your hips are in front of him, hands palming against his pectorals to bring his attention down to you.

You tug on the fabric of his shirt, breathlessly calling to him, “Shouto.”

Todoroki turns his eyes downward, jawline quivering just enough for you to see at this close of an angle. He is intoxicating, the combination of his cologne and his body heat sending your mind spinning. You lick your lips and his eyes track the motion, turning butterflies over in your belly, their gentle wings brushing the insides of your body delicately, enough to tickle.

“Shouto,” you mumble his name again. “S’okay, alright?”

The sound of barstools scraping the floor signifies the judgmental women taking their leave, and your chest deflates at the change in atmosphere. Your hands go slack against Shouto’s chest, head falling forward to rest against his collarbone.

When his hands brush your hips, you snap your eyes upward, neck bent at an uncomfortable angle to meet his gaze. Shouto grinds his teeth together before speaking, “I’m sorry they were bossing you around. You’re not here to take care of them.”

“It’s okay, really,” you pat your hand on his chest as if solidifying your statement, smiling enough to sell it.  

His thumb grazes the hem of your shirt, fingertip slipping beneath the fabric to brush against your skin. Your breath hitches and every instinct within you tells you to push yourself up on your toes and grab his shirt in your tight fists, but when you’re eye-to-eye with him, you wish you wouldn’t have listened.

You can feel his stuttering breath on the bow of your lip, and it makes your shoulders quiver. Your name is whispered between his teeth and suddenly he is too close, so close that you’re intoxicated, and every inhibition of yours has been forgotten like dust in the wind.

“Daddy!”

The sound of her voice breaks you apart, stumbling like teenagers caught underneath the bleachers. Todoroki turns to Hana, tending to her face with a napkin and listening to her sugar-driven babbling. You take the moment to slip past them and back to the outdoor area where everyone is gathered.

For the remainder of the night, you feel Todoroki’s eyes on you, following your movements as you maneuver throughout the guests, offering them refills and to take their garbage. He cannot help but feel the heat incinerating his body from all sides, not just his left. The sensation is strange, the ice on his right side usually taking over any and all feeling he might have.

It feels foreign, but not unpleasant. Todoroki’s neck prickles at the impending awareness that he might be in for a crude awakening soon.

≫ ──── ≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫ ──── ≪

The next few months are a breeze.

Until they are not.

Todoroki has begun to spend more time at work and less at home with each passing day. The threat of his job creeping over him like a looming dark shadow, slowly engulfing him inch by inch until he is surrounded entirely. He spends his days fighting crime, and nights doing paperwork.

You are slowly starting to spend more and more time at the Todoroki house – you are now expected to arrive around five in the morning, and sometimes you do not leave until nine in the evening. It is exhausting, given your drive back to your apartment is a half-hour on a good day with little traffic.

Somehow, you have been able to keep Hana satiated, even without her father around. There are fleeting moments where her cheery expression falters and she sheds a few tears, but you are there to wrap her up in your arms and let her cry until she has nothing left. And then, after she’s dried her face on your shirt, she looks up at you with those beautiful blue eyes and begs you to play princess.

One night, when you are half asleep on the couch with Hana curled into your arms, you feel a palm press to your shoulder, “I’m home.”

You blink blearily, a short jolt of breath stinging your lungs. You swallow and look to the right of you where Todoroki is squatted beside you. He is smiling; you can tell, even in the darkness.

“Hey,” you whisper, careful to cradle Hana’s head as you sit up. “Sorry, it’s been an eventful day.”

Shouto shakes his head and helps you to your feet, palms finding any juncture of you that he can use to support your body. His hand is against your elbow when he speaks next, “No, I’m sorry. I should have been home hours ago. I know you were making dinner.”

“I make dinner every night,” a laugh parts your lips and you run your fingers through Hana’s hair to try and keep her asleep despite the noise. “So, it’s nothing new, Todoroki. Let me go put her down and I’ll head out.”

He looks like he wants to say something, but his jaw snaps shut before he can let out whatever secret he is harboring. You disregard it, walking upstairs to tuck Hana in for bed. She stirs but does not wake entirely and you are thankful. The day has already been tumultuous enough without having to sing her back to sleep or stay up any longer.

As you are walking down the steps, you’re surprised to find Shouto pacing in the hallway, his thumb pinching his chin and his brow furrowed harshly. He looks rather intensely conflicted, and there is a moment where you’re worried, he may decide to fire you. Could you have done something wrong with Hana? Did she not like you? Was he upset that you let her have chocolate before noon the other day?

“Shouto?” you call, padding forward, toes sifting through the carpet. “Is everything okay?”

Another yawn splits your lips and you cover it with your palm, apologizing through your teeth. He shakes his head and steps toward you with a palm outstretched, “Yes, everything is fine. I just have something I’d like to ask you.”

You tilt your head and it reminds him of a curious animal, sniffing him out for food in the form of information. Your hand rests on his bicep and it is dizzying to be this close to you, even after several months of working alongside you. His head still spins when you are too close.

“I was wondering if you might consider moving in.”

You blink dumbly, mouth parted so he can see the pad of your tongue and the tips of your canine teeth. Your fingertips graze against his arm and you feel like lightning is sparking at the cusp of your touch.

The reality is this is not far from normal – most full-time nannies do end up living with their families. It makes everything easier and cheaper. If you live there, he does not have to pay you for drive time, and your boarding costs can be directly deducted from your standard paycheck. This option is what makes the most sense, but you are not focused on sense right now.

All you can see is his bare torso.

You are imagining accidentally walking in on him after he’s taken a shower, or him stumbling in after his morning runs with his tiny running shorts and shirtless upper half. Your tongue goes dry at the thought of it all, but you force yourself to push words past your lips, so you won’t look like a dead fish.

“That’s a pretty permanent decision, Shouto.” Your words hold weight and he knows it, he’s thought this through a dozen different ways to Sunday. You swallow and when your hands brush over his skin, he swears sparks light beneath your fingertips; it makes his arm numb. “I don’t mind, but I just want to make sure that you’ve really thought this through.”

He nods, stepping closer so he’s almost flush with you now, “I feel awful having you drive so early and so late. Your hours would not change, your responsibilities wouldn’t change. You would have your own room and privacy, and I don’t expect to lessen your pay just because you live here. It’s just-”

“Shouto,” you’re laughing now, shaking your head as you look down at your toes, “I don’t expect everything to stay the same if I move in. I’m prepared, are you?”

Truly, he’s thought about that question far too much in the passing days when he sees you around the house or speaks with you on the phone during the day. The idea that you will be here every hour of every day is suffocating, but in a way that makes him want to drown. As time moves faster, Shouto realizes that you have become a second nature in his house. He is thinking of you during his office meetings and the late nights on patrol.

He cannot be honest with the true reason he is asking you to move in, because then he would have to face his emotions and he’s not ready for that yet. And yet, his body betrays his mind as he reaches forward to brush his thumb over your cheek, “I think I can handle it.”

Emotion swells like a blooming heat between the two of you, your bodies almost entirely pressed up against one another as your voices grow softer. You are not sure if it’s the sleep-muddled brain you’re working off of, but you swear that you see his eyes drop to your lips. There is some part of you that wants to fall into him, to let him take you and burn you and leave you for dead, but the rest of you is working off of sense and logic and you know that would never work.

“Well,” your voice shatters the fragile moment, “I guess I better get home and start packing.”

Shouto releases you and something shifts in his irises, but it is gone as soon as it appears, and you don’t have enough time to discern the emotion. You pluck up your bag and slip on your shoes, turning to wave at him over your shoulder as you step past the threshold and back to the garage.

As you start your car, you rest your forehead on the steering wheel before you pull out, and murmur to yourself in utter chagrin, “What have I just agreed to?”

≫ ──── ≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫ ──── ≪

“I’m telling you - Red Riot is going to give you a run for your money.”

“That blockhead?” Shouto chuckles, swirling his glass, “I doubt it.”

You tilt your head, “And what about Ground Zero? He’s got his own agency now, doesn’t he?”

Shouto rolls his eyes, “God, can we please leave Bakugou out of this conversation?”

Another swig of the rum and coke slides down your throat, burning in the best way. Your head feels hazy, but you don’t mind, taking advantage of Hana’s early bedtime for the first time in a few weeks. You push your mostly empty glass towards him, “Bartender?”

Todoroki smiles, tipping the bottle downward to refill your glass. You grab the soda off the countertop and fill it to the brim, swirling the mixture with your straw. Another gulp of the liquid has you asking, “You and the other big players all went to Yuuei together, right? Ground Zero, Deku, Red Riot?”

Shouto nods, “Yes, we did.”

“Wow, to have gone to Yuuei,” you whisper in wonder, eyes heavy as you look down into the dark liquid fizzing in your glass.

He leans forward on the counter, body close to you as he asks his obvious question, “You don’t have a quirk, do you?”

“No,” your answer is quick, curt. You swallow thickly, shards of shame sticking in your throat. “I was born without one. You’ve seen my shoes.”

You are referring to the wider shoes that those with no quirk have to wear thanks to the extra joint in their pinkie toes. You lift your foot up in the air for good measure, painted toenails catching the light just right as you wriggle your toes around dramatically. You sigh, “I didn’t fully know who you were when I took this job. It’s kind of embarrassing that I don’t have a quirk, and you’re some superhero saving people with ice and fire.”

Shouto holds out his left palm, face up, and ignites a small flame, “I hated this side of my body for so long. It comes with a burden I’m glad you do not have to bear.”

The weight in his voice entices your eyes upward, connecting with his gaze as the heat blossoms, sucking the oxygen out of the air. Shouto curls his fingers inward and cuts the flame short, a gentle wisp of smoke floating from his palm.

“What does it feel like?” you find yourself asking, the alcohol creating a dull buzz behind your eyes that latches onto all of your inhibitions and immediately tosses them away.

His breath hitches audibly, pupils dilating as he attempts to focus on something other than the way your lips bow when you speak. Shouto steps forward, hands gentle as he cups your cheeks, a bravery he did not know he could muster bolstering his movements. His fingertips tickle your skin and it’s difficult for you to keep your eyes open when he is holding you so tenderly.

Shouto closes his eyes in concentration, taking a deep breath before narrowing his concentration onto the pores of his hands. His palms are flush with your skin and you let your mind wander while he is working up his quirk.

How would his touch compare to different parts of your body?

Your eyes slip shut at the thought, biting your lip as your mind runs rampant. The heat curling in your belly reminds you of his quirk – burning and licking at your belly like a raging flame. You only wish you had his right side to cool you down from the inside out.

Slowly but surely, you feel the right side of your face grow warm while the left side has started to chill. Your eyes go wide, and you circle your fingers around his wrists, voice breathy when you speak, “Wow, Shouto, that’s amazing!”

Your voice goes quiet and it is like the world stops spinning when he opens his eyelids to look down at you. You feel frozen in your spot, but you know it isn’t his quirk affecting you. Your grip tightens but he doesn’t seem to notice, his eyesight directed to your lips, zeroed in on the way that you gnaw at them when you’re nervous.

The tension is like a rubber band begging to snap. You feel the coil twirl around your spine, bunching you together and screaming at you to run away. There are a thousand different reasons why getting too close is dangerous, but your wanton body cannot be bothered to list them. Instead you are pushing yourself up in your seat, so your back is arched toward him, chest brushing his pectorals.

Shouto reminds you of something innocent when his mouth parts and irises glimmer beneath half-hooded lids. You feel distinctly profligate for envisaging his mouth on other parts of your body, the pink of his tongue peeking from behind pearly teeth doing little to quell your thoughts. You swallow thickly and shudder as his hand that produces cold shifts into your hair, rustling through the tresses at the nape of your neck.

Your hands are suddenly wrapped up in the fabric of his shirt, fisting the soft material, and you are pulling him towards you. Even so, it is Shouto who tilts your head upward, heels of his palms gently angling you by the cheeks.

The two of you take a breath before devouring one another whole.

His mouth tastes like whiskey, sharp and biting, but his tongue is in stark contrast to the flavor. He is gentle while still taking over your every sense. His tongue maps out the curves of your teeth and the pad of your tongue while his chilled palm keeps your skin from searing with blush.

The tenderness with which he holds onto you makes your heart rattle around within the cage you have built just for him. You knew this entire time that if he were to wriggle his way in, to touch your heart in just the right spot, you would crumble beneath his ministrations. This entire time you’ve been beholden to him, despite the utter denial you’ve been bathing in to hide the confession.

“Todoroki, I-”

Your voice is cut off by a blazing hand drifting beneath the hem of your shirt, fingers dipping against your spine, “I hate it when you call me that.”

Your eyes go wide but he’s enraptured you with another kiss square on the lips. Your words fall into the confines of his throat, never to be heard again as he swallows them into silence.

Hands are everywhere, so much so that you can’t tell where you begin and he ends.

Shouto nips your lip and you gasp, your hips canting forward of their own accord. Your mouth is gaping, begging for air, and he gives in to your silent request, drifting his lips downward to your jawline. He mutters a string of curse words as your hands finally make their way to his hair and shoulders, digging into him like he might float away.

He hums against your collarbone, teeth bared as he licks and nips at your skin. The alcohol in your bloodstream mixed with his essence in your veins only spins your mind into overdrive, dizzying you to the point that your eyes cross. You whine as he bites kisses into your skin, fingernails dug sharply into the skin of his back through his shirt. There will most likely be little crescent moon imprints when you release.

The trail of his kisses loops back up the column of your throat, teeth grazing your jaw as he works his way to your mouth again. You whine into his lips when his frozen fingers stroke your bare skin beneath your top, “Shouto, please-”

Todoroki’s confidence grows when he hears you moan his name into the air, begging him with only a few syllables. He disconnects his mouth from yours to look you in the eyes, “God, you’re so damn pretty, y’know?”

Your mouth hangs open and Todoroki must hold himself back from slipping his thumb between your parted, full lips. A shuddering breath passes between the two of you, time frozen as the moment sits still. It allows the both of you to agonize over one another, taking in each and every wanton feature as you beg quietly.

“So pretty,” he whispers before digging his hands into your backside and tugging you forward so you wrap yourself around him. His mouth is on you in a flash, all teeth and tongue pulling and prodding at you in a divine way you’re sure only he has mastered.

You are enraptured by him, fully captivated with his dual-ended quirk sending your body into a haze. Your mind is bewildered, thrown into a twirl of rum and Todoroki. If he were to give you a moment to catch your breath, you might be able to find it within your resolve to push him off you, to tell him how wrong this is. And yet, with his tongue tangled in your teeth, you can’t force the word no out of your throat.

Instead it is just his name.

Todoroki picks you up to deposit you on the countertop, thumbs digging into your hips to help you settle. His fingers make quick work of your top, slipping beneath them hem to graze over the swell of your breast on the underside. You whimper at the ghost of his touch, trying to angle your arms so you can tug at the band of his sweats.

When he realizes what you are fumbling with, he uses the bottoms of his feet to tug his pants down to his ankles. He steps out of them, but you can’t focus on anything other than the prominent bulge strained against his dark briefs. You have to swallow the drool accumulating in the center of your mouth, threatening to pool over the corners of your lips if you were to speak.

Before he tugs your shirt over your head, he looks into your eyes, sincerity cutting through the lust clouding his irises, “Last chance.”

He is giving you an out. One last clear path to purity.

You hesitate for a moment and his hands curl tighter around the hem of your top, restraining himself from ripping it away like an animal. His jaw is quivering as he waits on your response, nostrils flaring when you do not answer right away.

Whether it is the alcohol or the need talking, you are the conduit for the words spoken next, “Fuck me, Shouto. Now.”

Your shirt is yanked over your head unceremoniously, but you don’t care. Your eyes are wandering, begging for him to be nearly as naked as you. You don’t have to ask, because he’s already stepping away from you to remove the offensive piece of clothing, baring his body to you.

You’ve seen him shirtless countless times, especially upon moving into the Todoroki residence. He goes on shirtless jogs and sometimes does not wear anything on his torso for a while after he’s showered. There are days he has hardly anything remaining of his costume, after a particularly rough villain or training session.

And yet, this time it feels different.

He is baring himself for you. The intimacy of the moment does little to dull the ache in your mind, the strain of your heart in your ribs. You know that if he were to show you much more openness, you may have bruises beneath your skin from the way your heart threatens to beat at such a quick, tumultuous pace.

Shouto wastes little time in lurching forward to palm at your breasts, mouth too busy with your lips to pay attention to much else. You hitch your thigh between his hips, the curve of your leg brushing into his clothed cock. He grunts into the trap of your teeth, brow tugged with focus as he ruts his hips upward into you. You’re sure to put pressure back against him, the tip of his cock bulging on your thigh.

“Sho’,” you whimper when his mouth drifts from your lips to your neck. Your hands find his hair and his shoulder, eyelids fluttering halfway closed while he licks and nips at your thin, sensitive skin. Your throat burns, flesh aching as he starts to bite into you, rolling the skin between his teeth slowly, agonizing your very core.

A fresh wave of arousal coats the inside of your walls, and you know it is stained your panties, but you don’t have enough dignity to care. All that is on your mind is how he can take you on the countertop, and if you’ll be able to keep quiet enough not to wake the sleeping girl up the flight of stairs.

“Shit,” he’s cursing when your hand finds his bulge, “sweetheart, I-”

His breath is stuttered over your collarbone as you begin to palm him through his briefs. The nickname tumbling from his lips in a moan turns your stomach, effervescent champagne bubbles drifting up from your belly until they are suffocating your lungs. You gasp to relieve yourself of the pent-up anticipation as his left hand reaches the button of your shorts.

Shouto is careful as he unbuttons your pants, slipping the coarse fabric of your jeans down your thighs. As he squats down to help you out of them, all you can think of is what might happen if you were to grab him by the hair and force his mouth to your cunt.

Almost like he was reading your mind, he leans forward after he’s tossed your jeans to the other side of the kitchen floor and his mouth ghosts over your core. Your lower lip wobbles and you must bite your tongue to keep your mewling cries from tumbling out in excess. Todoroki kisses the top of your thigh, nose nudging over the edge of your lace underwear, his eyes closed so you cannot make out the expression settled in his ordinarily stoic irises.

“If you smell this good, I can only imagine how wonderful you taste,” Todoroki smirks against your skin, tilting his head so he can look up at you from his crouched position.

Your hips cant forward at the sentence, pussy already dripping just from the timbre of his deep voice. The vibrations of his word are like shockwaves straight to your core and you want to beg him to give you something, even a teasing lick over the center of your underwear.

Shouto kisses the little bow at the center of your panties, smiling as he snags the accent between the bite of his teeth and uses it to tug your underwear down your thighs. Your muscles tense, his ministrations slow and tantalizing. He chuckles and the sound shoots through your bones as if they were hollow like a feather, the warm honey of his laughter seeping slowly into your every pore and breaking down what remains of your resolve.

You have to cover your mouth with your hands when you yelp at the pad of his thumb brushing back the hood of your clit. His cool palm finds your thigh, just below the curve of your ass, and he stabilizes you with a firm grip, “Sit still, Princess.”

The authoritative tone of his voice turns your spine rigid, eyes facing the wall as he butterflies your pussy so he can see the silvery strands of slick built up between your layers of skin. He licks his lips and you feel the threatening heat of his tongue near your clit and you’re squirming. You are white knuckling the countertop, jaw under immense pressure as you clamp your teeth harshly.

He does not give you warning before delving his tongue between your folds, licking up your accumulated slick with one slow movement. His glittering grey iris tries to find your face, but the only thing he can make out is the line of your jaw and chin as your head is thrown back. Shouto chuckles before starting to explore the glutenous walls of your cunt with his tongue, his one hand still pressed into your thigh, fingers digging so hard that you are sure there will be bruises tomorrow morning.

Your body responds to him quickly, hips canting forward to buck against his mouth, begging for something more than just the quick slithering of his tongue in and out of you. In retaliation, Shouto presses his tongue flat, creating the illusion that it is thicker than before. You keen when he turns the pad of his thumb near your clit, close but not near enough.

“Sho’, please,” you pant, sweat beginning to bead up on your temples from the anticipation alone.

His cocky smirk is something you can sense when he speaks, but even further, you can feel it as he continues to lavish your pussy with his tongue. He huffs before standing to his feet, your slick mixed with his saliva giving his mouth a dangerous glint in the lowlight of the kitchen.

Shouto licks his lips as he steps closer to you again, bodies flush with one another. The hand that you know could burn you in an instant drifts down your side towards your pussy and you feel every muscle in your body clench at the thought of what kind of damage he could do to you if he tried.

Oh, and you’d let him.

You are about to beg him again, wanton moans vibrating your throat, but he intercepts you before you can lower your inhibitions any further. Shouto’s elongated middle finger slips just between your folds, using his saliva and your slick to lubricate his digit as he begins to pump up into you.

Todoroki Shouto is by no means a small man.

However, he is not so muscular that it looks like he is uncomfortable whenever he is walking. He is lean but built, which means that even though his hands are thick with muscle, they are not painful when pressed into your tight heat. Rather, they are snug and comfortable, his knuckle providing a pleasure you’ve not experienced before.

The tip of his finger brushes the spongy spot at the base of your core, and you swear you feel him in your spine. Shouto leans forward kiss you and you receive him quickly, desperate for some sort of tactile relief. He’s grinning into your lips, but you do not care so long as you find some reprieve from the coil beginning to twist within your stomach.

“So fuckin’ tight,” Todoroki whispers into your teeth as his tongue licks against your gums.

At his comment, you clench your cunt around his fingers, tightening your hold only to see how he will react. His hand stills for a moment, but then he is pushing another finger to accompany the first, splitting your cunt open despite the vice-like grip you have on his knuckle. He pumps until the base of his digits are finding the heat of your pussy, his fingerprints searing into your walls as you attempt to stay clamped around him.

Your legs begin to shake from the way you are holding yourself up on your toes, knees bent so you can be closer to his body. Todoroki feels the tremors in your thighs as his hand roams the dense muscle, whispering, “C’mere, love,” and then he’s picking you up gingerly.

Shouto hooks one of your legs around his waist at the knee, arching your back so your cunt is still butterflied open for him. Your other leg dangles from the countertop as he balances you on the edge.

The way his fingers work into you is nothing short of sinful, that white-hot flash of pleasure sinking into your eyelids slowly but surely. You begin to lose your peripheral vision as the impending ecstasy begins to settle in. The crest of the wave is close, his knuckles dragging salaciously against the innermost part of you.

Your jaw hangs open the closer you are to coming undone, panting breaths prying your lips apart. You feel utterly exposed in front of him like this, lewdly strewn against the counter that you were sipping rum and whiskey against not even a half hour ago. And yet, somehow, Shouto’s hand cradled against your shoulders is all you need to bring your self-consciousness down to a manageable level.

From this angle, you can reach down and pull Shouto’s briefs down so his cock can spring free. You’re palming at him as soon as you see the dark red of his cockhead. He stutter-steps forward when you pump him the first time, eyes close to bulging from their sockets at the sensation.

You twist his cock in your palm, running your thumb against the pearlescent bead of pre-come collected at the curve of his slit. Using what you can of the liquid, you drag your damp thumb down the length of his cock for slight lubrication. Shouto bucks into your hand when you bob your palm up and down to connect with the base of his pubic bone.

Now that you’re secure on the countertop, Shouto allows his free hand to wander around the curvatures of your body, mapping out the dips and contours of your frame. His hand is on your neck, thumb brushing your jaw, when your mouth drops open from a particularly pleasurable swipe of his fingers. Your cunt is dripping, and you’re honestly not sure if it even matters if you come, he should be able to slip right between your tight heat with ease.

“S’pretty,” he murmurs, kissing your cheek as his thumb brushes the bow of your bottom lip.

On instinct, your tongue laps towards the digit, silently begging for him to do more.

Shouto listens, dipping his thumb into your mouth, pressing the pad of his finger into the thick muscle of your tongue. You lick and suck at him, rolling your mouth to match the pace of your hand as you work his hard cock towards release. Shouto fixes the rhythm of his fingers so every part of your bodies are going at the same speed.

The collective sensations of his hands and mouth are too much and you cry out, digging your free hand into his shoulder to attempt and ground yourself. You pant, looking up at him with bejeweled irises, tears sitting dormant on your lashes as a whine sits pretty on your lips.

“What is it?” he asks, borderline patronizing. “Are you gonna come on my fingers?”

Your lower lip trembles and you feel yourself slipping into some subservient headspace at the tone in his voice. You nod, rolling your hips to meet him as he slows his hand, “P-Please, Shouto, I-”

“I want you to come,” he murmurs into your ear, leaning forward so his breath is hot on your skin. The hand he has buried in your cunt begins to heat and the searing sensation sends your mind reeling. Shouto nudges his nose along your jawline, warmth creeping along the base of his palm, “C’mon, love, I want to see you come. Make a pretty little face for me, yeah?”

His words do little to quell the growing ache between your thighs, the pent-up need begging to be released. You clench around him again, not forgetting his cock between your hand. You continue to twist your wrist, flicking your fingers along the length of his dick, dragging with just enough pressure to make his eyes cross. Teasing the head, you drag the pad of your thumb over it, catching another swell of pre-come and trailing the liquid down the thick shaft.

You whimper his name, squeezing your eyes closed so harshly that the corners of your lids crinkle. Your sounds only grow louder when his mouth begins to suck at your nipple, massaging your breast in his chilled hand. The crystallization of ice draws your attention, a frozen cold so intense that it almost feels hot in its own unique way.

There is a stinging excitement at the duality of the temperatures that grow further apart the longer he activates his quirk. Your nipples pebble while your pussy floods from the heat, copious amounts of slick trickling down his fingers to pool in the creases of his palm. Shouto murmurs obscenities against your earlobe but you’re in such a realm of fevered phrenzy that you can’t make out he’s even speaking English.

“Sh-Shouto, I-I’m close,” you manage, feeling the way his cock throbs beneath your touch helping to bring you back to the cusp of reality. You dive deep again when his fingertips brush against your cervix, allowing his passion to force you beneath the surface.

His thumb is circling your clit as he murmurs, “C’mon, darling, I know you can do it. Come for me, yeah?”

It’s as if his words united with his caress are enough to shove you head-first into the pool of desire. You are whimpering, cunt fluttering around his fingers as your come drips down the crevices of his palm. Your release reaches his wrist, milky liquid tickling his skin.

“Atta girl,” he kisses your cheek, fingers stilling for a moment to allow you to collect yourself. You continue to ride out your high by bucking your hips over his knuckles, slippery fingers easily providing you the rest of the comfort you need to come down from your high.

“Your turn.”

You’re pushing your way off the countertop when the creaking of the stairs makes your heart still within your chest.

Shouto’s stare flickers from you to the staircase, jaw hung open as he analyzes the sound. When another step echoes in the hallway, he’s quick to yank his briefs and sweats back over his hips. He helps you into your shorts, the silvery strands of your release forgotten as he tugs the fabric up your hips.

You’ve just gotten your pants buttoned when Hana’s teetering figure creates a shadow on the kitchen floor.

“Daddy?” she whimpers, fists digging into her tear-filled eyes.

Shouto swipes his hands against his sweats before crouching in front of her. His palms find her sides quickly, thumbs grazing her rib cage in an attempt at comfort, “Hey, love,” the sound of the nickname makes something stir within your belly, “what’re you doing awake?”

Hana swallows a hiccup, “I-I had a bad dream.”

You step forward, pressing your hand to Shouto’s shoulder, offering a gentle nudge of comfort. Hana blinks up at you, jeweled irises focused on your face, “M-Momma?”

The title holds a weight you had not prepared to carry.

She’s all but forgotten Todoroki, pushing past him to barrel into your shin, wrapping her stubby arms around your knee. She wipes her face against the skin of your thigh, sniffling louder as a fresh wave of tears takes over her body. Her shoulders shudder and you don’t have time to wonder whether she’s cognizant enough to realize that she’s just called you her mother.

You scoop her up in your arms, holding her gingerly by the back and head, and she wraps her legs around your midsection to anchor her little body to your torso like a frightened animal. Hana buries her head into your neck, tears sticking to your skin and creating an unbearable heat.

“You’re not leaving, right?” Hana whimpers, “I-I had a dream that you left.”

In an effort to comfort her, you run your fingers through her hair, gently separating the strands so your nails can scratch her scalp. You kiss her temple, “Of course not, sweetheart. You’re stuck with me.”

She retracts from your neck and a rush of cool air washes over you. Her irises are swallowed by her pupils, thick droplets of tears wetting her cheeks. You smile, forcing yourself to forget the way you were just about to jump her father’s bones, and brush your nose against hers in an eskimo kiss.

“It was just a dream, babe,” you comfort her, making sure you are looking at her directly when you say it so she feels much more solid in the reality that you are here to stay. A soothing hand reaches forward to couple with yours, thumb tracing the bump of her shoulder.

Todoroki kisses the back of her head, “Hana, there’s no need to worry, love.”

“I already lost one mommy,” Hana sounds ancient when she speaks, voice far away and intelligent beyond her young years, “I don’t wanna lose another one.”

Your voice is lodged in your throat now, tears of your own pressing threateningly against the back of your eyes. You try to swallow but the shards of your heart are blocking your windpipe, cutting off your oxygen. Todoroki slips his hands beneath Hana’s armpits, separating her from you so he can cradle her body against his chest, “You’re not losing anyone, sweetheart. Let’s get you back to bed.”

You take this as your cue to leave, grabbing your things as Todoroki takes Hana back up the stairs to her bedroom.

A sense akin to despair settles in your chest, restraining your heart in such a way that makes it difficult to breathe. The world seems to settle atop your shoulders and in the next moments you have turned into Atlas, forced to hold the earth up by your careless grip. Tears settle in your lids as you pull away from the Todoroki residence.

Something tells you that things will never be the same.

≫ ──── ≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫ ──── ≪

As much as you hate it, that little voice eating away at the back of your mind was right.

The looming reality that Todoroki is avoiding you does little to satisfy the curiosity settled in your bones, affecting you down to the marrow.

Ever since that night, he hardly looks you in the eye.

In fact, he’s barely even around to see you at all.

Todoroki leaves for work before you can emerge from the bathroom with Hana in tow, fresh from a bubble bath and ready for breakfast. He slips back through the doors late at night, normally after eight, so Hana is either passed out with you on the couch or curled up beneath her covers in her bedroom. There is not another time where he touches you gingerly on the shoulder and guides you back to bed, not anymore.

You have wondered many times if you should approach him, beg him for some sort of explanation. Not only is his distance affecting you, but it’s turning Hana into a child you hardly recognize. She is still cheerful a majority of the time, begging you to play princesses and watch Bubble Guppies. But there are times when she turns angry, ripping the heads off her dolls and trying to sabotage Todoroki’s work clothes by drawing on his shoes or dropping her glass of morning milk on his suit jacket.

You start to cook his meals the day before, packaging them up in a Tupperware container that’s always gone when you check at breakfast the next morning. You are not a blind woman, and you normally choose to indulge his silly game of hide and seek instead of confronting him about what happened that night.

However, tonight, you’ve had enough.

Even though he’s decided to spend the weekend at home for the first time in a few weeks, you’ve never felt more on edge. Hana is extremely irritable, nightmares plaguing her mind during the time she’s supposed to be sleeping, and it would seem there is nothing you can ever do to satiate her throughout the day.

Playing princess is boring, coloring is stressful, blowing bubbles is stupid.

You are reaching the end of your rope and Shouto’s evasive presence does little to satiate your temperamental moods. You clutch at the cusp of sanity, praying that it will not leave you just yet; the only thing holding your tongue back from lashing out is the sliver of discretion that you’ve managed to sustain in spite of the day’s events.

“Hey, uh-” Todoroki’s voice is strained as he stands in the archway of the kitchen, “Would you mind making us a couple of sandwiches? I think Hana is getting hungry.”

The warmth from the dishwater gives you something other than his irises to focus on, your eyesight directed downward, “Sure. What would you like?”

“Let’s just do peanut butter and jelly,” Shouto shrugs nonchalantly. “Grape, if we have it.”

Your ears perk up at the mention of a specific flavor. You are certain that if you were to look into the refrigerator that you would not find grape jelly, but it’s obvious that Shouto is otherwise unknowing.

“Grape?” you echo, pulling your hands from the dishwater to wipe them on your hand towel. “You think that’s a smart choice?”

Shouto scoffs and it stings so much that you turn your head away from him, eyes now focused on the floor beneath your feet, “Yes, I’m sure. Why does it matter anyway?”

“Oh, no reason.” You pluck a jar of strawberry jelly from the refrigerator and begin to prepare the countertop for your sandwich making.

He takes a step forward to protest, but you’re waving the knife in his direction before he can stride across the tile, “You listen to me, Todoroki. And you listen good.”

Shouto pauses, throat bobbing as his line of sight zeroes in on your lips. His eyes widen, pupils swallowing his irises in fear. The knife wavering in your grasp holds much more weight than any other butter knife he’s come into contact with.

“We don’t have any grape jelly because your daughter is allergic to grapes.”

Your knuckles turn white as you grip the butter knife in your hand, “And if you were ever here you might notice a thing or two, such as an allergy to something that could, I dunno, kill her?!”

The sound of your voice raising an octave or two reverberates off of the walls and thrums at Shouto’s heartstrings. He swallows thickly, but you’re not done tearing into him just yet.

“This little charade you’ve got going on has got to end.” Your voice is desperate, unhinged, and you feel the honesty scrape against the front of your throat, “Your daughter is turning into someone you can barely recognize, and you’re not far behind her.”

Silence envelopes the room, and the only thing you’re able to hear is your heart beating frantically in your own ears. As your pulse thuds rapidly, rushing like a river of thick emotion throughout your body, you feel your palms begin to sweat. The longer you keep quiet, the louder the sound grows.

Finally, after giving him a few minutes to respond, you press the tops of your fists into your hips, glaring down your nose at him, “If you want me gone, all you had to do was ask. I thought we respected one another enough for that.”

You slap together two sandwiches quickly, tossing the plates onto the counter for him to pick up on his own before you turn and walk from the room. You’re unable to look at him any longer, not sure if it’s the loitering reality that you may have to move on from this chapter of your life or the loss of a generous paycheck and living situation that wraps your heart like the talons of a bird, squeezing until you can’t breathe.

The tumultuous roll of emotions scrapes away at your chest, and you’re surprised that there isn’t blood gushing from your ribs. You lean back against your closed door, head tilted backward to stave off the tears, saltine droplets coating your lashes as they sit in your ducts, pending the gentle sway of your neck to drip down your cheeks.

You aren’t sure how long you stay this way, crumbled against your door with the heat of disappointment building smoke in your lungs. It’s difficult to breathe, a dizziness taking over your mind that you’ve never felt quite so acutely before. You cradle your head in your hands, massaging your temples with your thumbs to try and mitigate the oncoming migraine.

A knock sounds at your door and you jump, hand pressed over your frantic heart, “Y-Yes?”

“Can-Can I come in?”

Shouto.

The sound of his voice does little to staunch the metaphorical puncture wound in your chest. You flex your hands before standing to your feet and opening the door, allowing him to step over the threshold into your room.

“Listen, I think there’s just-”

“No,” you interrupt, a short breath filling your lungs, “I’m going first.”

Todoroki’s eyes dilate, his feet stuttering backward as he takes in your assertive sentence. He grits his teeth, jaw quivering under the stress, but keeps his lips sealed in spite of desperately wanting to speak out.

“If you don’t want me here, you could have just said so.” You wring your hands together, knuckles knocking against one another as you twist your fingers. You close your eyelids and inhale a deep breath, “What happened, u-us kissing, wasn’t professional, and I apologize. But what you’re doing to Hana?”

You flare your nostrils as your hands turn to fists at your side. Todoroki watches you closely, eyes never wavering from your frame as he takes in your quivering, quiet fury. Your jaw muscles tense and you force your eyes to meet his, despite the glossiness settled in them, “You’re never here, Shouto. You missed her ballet recital last week, then you forgot she was allergic to grapes, and now you’re not seeing what’s directly in front of you!”

The more you speak, the louder you become. You can feel your cheeks heating, the tears building up in your eyelids with every syllable. Your fists clench at your sides, and your fingernails dig irately into your palms, so harshly that you swear you might draw blood. Each word draws out an anger in you that you didn’t realize you were harboring, like a fugitive sitting in the cage of your chest, tugging on the bars of your heart as they beg to be broken free.

“Hana deserves better than this, and you know it, Todoroki. So if you don’t get your head out of your ass,” your lower lip wobbles and you reach forward to poke him directly in the chest, index finger dug into the space between his pectorals, “you’re going to lose your daughter.”

You’re shaking your head and your fist as the next sentence comes tumbling from your lips, heart strings fully wound as you speak, “Listen, I don’t know what your problem is, but if it’s me, then I’ll leave.”

Shouto’s brow furrows as he looks down his nose at you, “Are you finished?”

The deadpan of his voice stirs something in your belly, something like an acrid fire that plumes in your chest, the smoke of it all curling around your throat and begging to be spewed like acid from your tongue. Your teeth grind into each other, a creaking sound echoing in your own ears. The way your heart twists in your chest makes it difficult to breathe, but you manage.

“Fuck you, Todoroki.”

You go to turn away from him, your hand falling from his chest, when he snatches you by the wrist, repeating his question, “Are you finished?”

A small remaining sliver of your patience sits heavy on your chest, forcing you to nod your head. Regardless of how you feel about him, Todoroki Shouto is an important man, and you need to leave here a dignified woman. If you make a scene, if you flash your fists and bare your teeth, it’s possible you won’t have another job ever again.

“I don’t want you to quit,” his voice is breathless, an octave higher than normal; he almost sounds sick, “but there is a problem.”

The anticipation of what he might say next brings back that acidic wash in your belly, throat squeezed shut by the clamped hands of insecurity and doubt. Shouto takes a careful step forward, mindful of your personal space as he does so. His fingers never leave your wrist, circled around your arm even as it’s pulled away from his body.

“I think I’m in love with you.”

To say that the world stopped spinning was an understatement.

You feel the whole planet turn on its axis, your body undergoing vertigo as the metaphorical rug is yanked out from beneath your feet. Your stomach flips, the acid molting into lava, hot and sticky as it licks up against your skin, pooling just below your navel. His grip is too restrictive, and you can tell your body is beginning to shift into panic mode.

“You’re right,” he barges in on your internal monologue of self-hatred, eyes boring into your soul, “I’ve been a shitty father, which is painful for me to admit. But it’s the truth.”

The conviction in his voice is solid, and you know that he is being authentic. Todoroki has a clouded past when it comes to his father, Enji. You are aware of the influence his estranged parents have on his relationship with his child, which is one of the reasons his distance has troubled you. Every time he has had enough vulnerability to allow you to peek into the glass panes of his soul, he’s shown you the scars that Endeavor has left on him.

Todoroki uses his free hand to cup your cheek, thumb under your chin to pull your attention back to him, “I tried to distance myself from you to get a better grasp on the way I was feeling.”

His palm grazes down the column of your throat, his eyes careful not to stray to close to your lips or else he’ll get distracted. Your mouth bobs open but you have nothing to say, and the bewildered expression on your face makes him laugh. The sound of his baritone chuckle does little to quell the storm raging beneath your skin, lighting striking with every single touch of his fingers and thunder booming in your chest at the sound of his voice.

“For the longest time, I believed I would never love anyone again after my wife passed away.” The feel of his knuckles slipping between yours, palm searing into you despite it being his right side. At the mention of his wife, your whole being begins to shudder, the weight of expectations and self-doubt pressing into your chest like a mass you cannot remove.

Todoroki swallows the lump in his throat, neck bobbing, “I was content with it just being Hana and I for the rest of our lives, us against the world, until you came along. You fit so perfectly into our family, sliding in seamlessly as if you’d been here the whole time. You managed to win Hana over in a day and now she can’t stop talking about you. And then, when Hana called you mom, it threw me.”

Shouto’s eyes are intense as they stare into you, narrowed and attentive. The odd combination of one blue, one grey, is hard to grasp, unsure of where you should look specifically. His fingers against your neck card through your hair, keeping you anchored to him and this world.

“It was easier for me to dive into work because I knew I’d have you here to pick up the pieces,” Shouto admits, his gaze finally breaking away from your face to narrow focus to his sock-clad feet. “I was so weak for you that I couldn’t bear it. And then you and Hana both suffered for my cowardice.”

A wave of destiny washes over you, looming like a shadow, begging you to make a decision.

“Todoroki, this is-”

“I told you,” his thumb grazes your cheekbone, “not to call me that.”

Your jaw hangs open and tears cloud your vision, and you want to smile no matter how hard your body fights against you. Your lower lip quivers and you shake your head, saltine droplets lingering on your cheeks, “I-I can’t, Shouto. I’m not right for you and Hana, I’m not-oh.”

His mouth slots against yours, angled perfectly to capture your lips in a gentle kiss. Shouto’s hands are on your face, holding you in place so you can’t run from him, despite how every cell under your skin is screaming to bolt from your place.

As he parts from you, you’re left in a daze of euphoria, eyes half-lidded, mouth still pursed as you chase after him, pleading for more.

“You can’t tell me you don’t feel the same way,” he murmurs, thumb brushing your lower lip before retreating to trace your jawline.

And you know that you can’t; your body has already betrayed your words with the simple action of a kiss. Your hands follow suit, wrapped around the fabric of his shirt to keep him close, frightened he might leave you all over again.

Shouto’s hands drift down your abdomen, slow against your rib cage as if he were counting each bone to make sure they were all there, safe and sound. He kisses your forehead and then your nose, mouth hovering over the bow of your lips, eyes begging you even though his voice is caught in his lungs.

You say a stupid thing then, just something meant to break up the quiet, but with the floaty tone of your voice it breeds for much more wicked thoughts.

“Your lips are really warm.”

Shouto laughs before devouring you at the seam of your mouth, leaning forward to scoop you up in his arms, hands dug in at your thighs. You squeal against his lips, wrapping your legs around his waist, your fingers dipping into the muscle of his shoulders for an anchor.

He’s got you back against the bed before you can breathe again, leaning back on his thighs so he can pull his shirt over his head with ease. Your palms are like magnets to his abdomen, fingerprints finding each curve and dip of his muscle, praying you can map it out so you might memorize it for the times when he’s not able to be this close.

As his fingertips graze beneath the hem of your shirt, your eyes go wide, stuttering breath accompanied by panicked words, “H-Hana? Is she-”

Shouto chuckles, “She’s laid down for her nap. We have about two hours.”

The devilish glint in his eyes does little to quell the rampant thoughts running in your mind. You suddenly want to feel his hands and mouth everywhere on your body, insatiable in your lust for his touch.

“Sh-Shouto, please,” you’re panting and he hasn’t even undressed you yet, “need you.”

A devout confession such as that one, something so primal in its nature, shifts his demeanor from playful to sinful. Now his fingertips are dancing beneath your shirt, palming over your skin like he might find a hidden treasure in your bones.

He shakes his head, nose grazing your cheek as he starts towards your collarbone, “Tell me what you need, darling.”

“Need you.”

You are quick in your answer, eyes screwed shut at the tantalizing ministrations of his fingers on your flesh. He is teasing you, just close enough to your breast that it hitches your breathing, but not too close to where you can feel pleasure. A hot wash of arousal rolls into your body, slick beginning to gather between your thighs.

“More specific,” the words are muttered around the skin of your chest, one of his hands tugging on your collar to bare more of your body to him.

You whine, bucking your hips upward, knowing exactly the shape his cock will be in beneath the underwear that has him caged from you. You reach forward and tug at the waistline of his briefs, “Please, Shouto, I want to feel you.”

At the mention of feel, he takes you by surprise as he slips two fingers between your folds, curling into you quickly. You muffle your whine into the pillow, turning your face so your cheek is smushed against the downy cushion. Shouto’s palm that isn’t occupied with your tight heat tugs your shirt up over the tops of your breasts, baring your chest to the cool air of the bedroom.

“You are feeling me, sweetheart,” he teasingly licks over your nipple, thankful for the lack of a bra separating you from his wanton tongue.

Another moan drags salaciously from your lips, vibrating your throat and making his cock twitch, “Sho’, wan’ your cock. Please.”

You’re able to drag his pants and briefs down at once, his cock springing free from the restricting fabric. When it bobs against his abdomen, enflamed red cockhead leaking pre-come, you feel saliva build up in the back of your throat. You start to pump him as best you can, watching as his weighty balls swing under your touch.

Everything about him is enticing, from his dual-toned hair to his heterochromatic eyes to his chiseled body. You’d use your tongue on every part of him if he’d let you, but right now you’re focused on only one thing.

Once Shouto has coaxed enough of your arousal to coat his hand, he curls his fingers into you one last time, collecting the silvery fluid on his fingers, and then stands to step out of his clothes. You keen at the loss of contact, eyes wide open so you don’t miss a second.

“C’mon, baby, take your clothes off for me.”

At his command, you’re stripping down until you’re bare in front of him, clothes in a pool of fabric on the floor right next to his. Even the simple intimacy of his clothing overlapped with yours does things to your heart, a pinpricking sensation making your skin heat.

“Hi,” he whispers, fingers framing your face as you get lost in his touch. His voice is gentle, and his touch is probing in the best of ways, a genuine smile tugging his lips upward as you echo the word back to him.

You can feel your arousal tumbling within the confines of your body, begging to be put to use as you feel his cock against your thigh. Todoroki guides you back into the mattress, shoulders pressing into the cool sheets, your body given some sort of contrast to the molten heat circulating under your skin. Your blushed skin draws Shouto’s attention, eyes dragging over each inch of your body, mesmerized by your beauty.

Todoroki shakes his head, “You’re beautiful, you know?”

And at the end of his sentence, acting like punctuation, his cock slides between your heat.

Your eyelids flutter shut and your hands are on him in an instant, nails dug into his flesh to try and dispel some of the energy already built up within your fragile body. Shouto feels lightning spark up into his spine, the trails of it striking his hidden heart, licking at the edges of the glass box keeping him imprisoned from the world.

As your cunt clenches around him and your mouth utters his name like a prayer, Shouto can tell that his chest is constricting, tightening around his heart in an attempt to break himself free from the confines of his past.

“Sho’,” you’re mewling for him now as the veins of his cock drag salaciously against your tight, glutenous walls. Silvery slick coats his dick and he moans as your pussy clamps again.

He begins to build up the speed of his thrusts, his thumb brushing over your clit slowly, the very beginning of a pleasurable end building up within your belly. His mouth is attached to anything on you he can find – breast, collarbone, jaw, throat, cheek. Teeth and tongue lash out at you, parting his mouth so his heated breath can wash over your body.

Shouto focuses as best he can on forcing heat down the length of his arm, pinpointing the warmest point onto the tip of his thumb. You preen, eyes bulging out of your sockets well enough that he can translate your pleasure. On the opposing hand, the one currently preoccupied with your nipple, begins to freeze. Gooseflesh trembles on his arm but he does not mind, not when he gets to hear your panting whines of his name mixed with the begging sounds of please, please, please.

“Such a good girl,” Shouto murmurs into the thin skin of your throat, tongue delving from between his lips to lavish your jugular. “So pretty, laid out just for me.”

You nod your head as best you can, eyes wide as you drink in his praise. Your mouth bobs open but you can’t form words, not anything intelligent anyway. Shouto reaches his icy thumb towards your lips, brushing his cool touch over the heated skin, steam wafting between the two of you.

“Have you been thinking about this as long as I have?” he asks rhetorically, not expecting you to answer based on the fucked out look in your eyes, the drool seeping from the corner of your mouth as his body makes quick work of you. Shouto grunts, “I’ve wanted to take you against every damn surface in this house for months.”

His left hand peels from your clit, running up over the curve of your thigh to press beneath your knee, pushing your leg upward so he can thrust into you from a better angle. Your hands are stuck on the sheets now, his body just out of reach thanks to the twisting of your hips. Shouto slams into you, balls slapping your ass as he ruts forward.

You feel his cock harden even further from within the confines of your cunt, the tip of him brushing against the spongy corner of your insides. After another deep thrust he’s bottomed out within you, hips absolutely flush with your thighs as he presses into you.

Shouto leans forward, not daring to pull himself away from you just yet, enjoying the way you envelope him fully, “You think you can come for me, love? I want to feel you come all over my cock.”

“Y-Yes, Shouto, I-I’m getting there, almost,” you promise him, eyes fucked out to the point you can barely make sense of his frame loitering above you. Your lower lip wobbles as you pout, “A-Are you gonna-fuck-want you to come in me.”

It’s a simple sentence, but the weight of it makes Todoroki’s heart stop. He knows you’re on preventatives, he’s had to stay home with Hana to cover during the day for your doctor’s visits. But something stirs at the base of his cock, weighing in the thick of his body, and for some reason he wishes you were his for the taking in every sense of the word.

As you whimper beneath him, his eyes trail over your body, landing on your belly. His fiery touch grazes the swell of your stomach where he knows his cock is pressed deep within you. His balls throb at the thought of coating every inch of you in his spend, you begging for more as it leaks out of you and onto the sheets; him drawing you into another round just to make sure that you’re stuffed full.

Suddenly, a fracture within his chest allows him to breathe deeper. As you buck your hips into him, begging him for more, telling him how good he’s making you feel, Shouto recognizes the fragile box surrounding his heart, guarding it from the world, has begun to shatter.

“Shouto, please,” you are begging him now, glassy eyes and pitched tone designed just for him, “Need to feel you, everywhere.”

Your plea is the final rock thrown at the glass box, cracking it in every direction. Shards of emotion lodge in his throat, tearing into him so he cannot breathe. As he gasps for breath, fingers digging into your skin, he knows he’s bruising you but he can’t bring himself to think of it as anything other than finally marking you down at his.

And then, when your breathy voice curls in the air, settling on his chest like a balm, he feels the glass melt away, turning to liquid fire in his gut. The words you utter tear open his heart, leaving a gaping, belligerent wound that he knows only you can mend.

“I love you, Shouto, I love you too.”

His eyes find yours, wide and wanting. You nod as if that will solidify his place in the universe, tears blurring your vision, repeating the sentiment over and over again, uncaring to the way your face looks glassy beneath the lowlight of the bedroom. You just need him to know, need him to understand.

“Shit,” he pushes the heel of his palm into the bottom of your stomach, itching to feel the way his cock pulses in and out of you as he thrusts into your body. His thoughts are even more permanent now, the idea of filling you up, pouring his body into you in the most primal way possible, is the only thing he can see. Your hand makes its way into his hair, tugging at the crown of his head as you lean forward.

A mix of crimson and white is bunched between your fists, matching the little tufts of hair that tickle your pelvis every time he bottoms out within you. You scrape your nails against his scalp, but that only spurs him on faster, panting moans busting his throat open and begging you for more.

Your lashes flutter against the tops of your cheeks, mouth parted so he can see the pink of your tongue, “Sh-Sho’, I’m close.”

He makes it his mission to twitch his cock within your walls, providing an extra layer of stimulation as his channels himself into you mercilessly. Somehow, he does it with such a finesse that it does not feel rushed or sloppy. Shouto is very careful, precise, in everything he does, and you are not surprised it works its way into the mannerisms he exhibits between the sheets as well.

“C’mon, darling,” he coos into your ear, folding your thighs upward so you’re fully pressed into the mattress, “I want you to come for me, yeah? I want you to coat my cock. You can do it, you’re close, I can feel it.”

His praise intertwined with the thickness of his cock bulging within you breaks the crest of the wave, allowing pleasure to flow through your body and onto his cock, coating him in your thick, sweet release.

“Fuck, you feel good.” Shouto continues to thrust upward into you, eyes focused on your face as he uses your cunt to bring his own euphoria down from the clouds. He’s looking down at you, jaw hung wide as he buries his cock into your tight heat, enjoying the way your slick lubricates his length.

You buck up into him and he drops his head to your collarbone, thrusts becoming sloppier the longer he tries to hang on to the edge of the cliff. Your hand in his hair tugs on the strands, mouth by his ear as you whisper, “Please, Shouto, want to feel you come in me. I want you to pump me full of your hot load, stuff me-ah.”

His hips stutters as he releases his seed into you, tongue lapping at your throat carelessly to try and force his body not to start up again. The need to feel you coming around him, begging for his cock and come, is something he has been denying for too long.

“I love you,” he whispers into the curve of your earlobe, nipping at the skin as his hips still. “Fuck, I love you.”

You smile, pressing a kiss to the curve of his scalp, “I love you too.”

As he reaches the extent of his high, he presses his body flat into you, cock twitching within your core. Your palms find his shoulders, grazing gently with your fingernails until he’s moaning into your neck, hot breath fanning out over your skin.

“Unless you want to go again, I suggest you put an end to that,” he warns, but there is no intent behind it.

You laugh, rubbing your ankle against his calf, “We’ve got a little one about to wake from her nap. Maybe later.”

And that is a promise you fully intend to keep.

≫ ──── ≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫ ──── ≪

“Momma?”

You turn your head, pancakes on the griddle in front of you, “Yes, honey?”

Hana bounces towards you, white chiffon dress bubbling out at her knees, “When is breakfast ready?”

“When daddy gets back from his run,” you answer her, squatting in front of her to smooth the wrinkles from the fabric of her dress. “I made yours with choco-chips.”

Her eyes go wide and you feel a little sunbeam shining directly on your heart, warming your chest. She grabs you by the cheeks, palms squishing your lips together, “You can’t tell daddy!”

“Oh, I won’t,” you promise, voice distorted from the way she has you in her grasp. You brush a hand through her silver curls, tucking the strands away from her face. “Your secret is safe with me.”

“Don’t tell daddy what?”

Hana squeals, turning on her heels to sprint towards the garage door. She’s on Shouto’s leg in an instant, clutching him like her life depends on it. You stand back to your feet, brushing your thighs clean before turning back to the griddle to start another round of pancakes.

“We can’t tell you or else it won’t be a secret, duh!” Hana sticks her tongue out as she pokes Shouto’s leg, rolling her eyes like it should be obvious. “Look, Momma’s making pancakes!”

Todoroki looks across the room at you, eyes reminding you of colorful gems as they behold you. Every time you catch him staring at you, you swear it’s even more infatuated than the last, his love for you only growing as time passes.

“Is she?” He peels her from his leg to shift her into his arms, holding her securely against his side. Todoroki walks over to you, leaning into the counter so he’s close enough that you can reach him but far enough that he can’t burn Hana on the griddle.

“You’re back quicker than I expected,” you admit, pouring batter out onto the stovetop. You grab the spatula, prepared to flip once they look done enough, “Did you pull something?”

Shouto shakes his head, leaning forward to intercept you with a kiss to the lips, “I just missed you.”

“Ew, gross! Kissing means cooties!” Hana pushes your faces apart, a hand on your mouths as she dramatically lolls her tongue out of her mouth to prove her disgust.

You chuckle, leaning forward to brush her hair from her eyes again, tucking it behind her ear even though you know it will spring forward not long after. Your eyes flash from her to her father, watching the pride settle into his irises, solidifying them even more. A gentle touch of your hand to his bicep brings him back to you, gaze unwavering as he maps out the features of your face yet again, each time finding something new to behold.

“Well, that means you have time to shower before we eat,” you squeeze his arm and return to your station at the griddle, flipping the next set of pancakes. “I’ve still got to make eggs and bacon, and some hash browns for the princess.”

Hana is beaming, bright smile tugging on the strings of your heart, “Momma makes the best hash browns.”

Todoroki places her back down on the ground, patting her backside as a silent gesture to tell her to go play. She takes his hint, sprinting back into the living room to resume her tea party with a stuffed elephant and a Ken barbie doll.

“Are you sure you’re okay? You never-ooh.”

He’s got you by the neck with one hand, the other anchoring to your hip to hold you close. Todoroki melds your mouths together, the heat of his body quickening your pulse. He steps closer, knee between your thighs so you can feel the hard bulge pressing into the fabric of his running shorts.

You hum as he parts from you, pancakes momentarily forgotten in the wake of his affections. You pat your hands on his chest, gnawing on your lower lip, “Smooth one, Todoroki.”

Shouto pinches your hip, growing smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth, “You. Me. Nap time.”

“Oh?” you ask as he unwinds himself from you, nudging your body back towards the griddle.

“And I’m not talking about sleeping.”

Todoroki disappears from around the corner, slipping up the stairs to your now shared bedroom.

You can’t help the laugh that bubbles from your lips. When you go to turn this set of pancakes, the diamond sitting on your left hand catches the luminescent lights of the kitchen and you marvel at it. You roll your ring around on your finger, trying to find a different angle to appreciate it from, but you’ve already memorized the shape of it after three years of marriage.

Your palm finds the gentle swell of your navel beneath the baggy t-shirt you’re wearing, one of Shouto’s early proofs for a new merchandise design. You bite your lip and look down, speaking to the rustling new life currently blooming in your belly, “Here’s to tomorrow, little one. May it always be just a little better than today.”

The pancakes are done and the bacon is sizzling when Shouto returns with damp hair and a pair of sweats on the lower half of his body. He curls an arm around you from behind, kissing your shoulder, “Smells good, love.”

You turn to offer him a kiss, which he takes with fervor. Hana voices her disgust from her seat at the table, but Shouto hushes her quickly with a playful rise of his eyebrow, pointed finger making her giggle.

The three of you are sat down to breakfast, just like any other Saturday, but this one feels special for some reason. You can’t quite make it out; maybe it’s the sun shining outside or the crisp breeze blowing through the open windows, but your soul is settled in a way that can only be achieved by utter bliss.

“Hey,” Shouto calls you from your stupor, “your choco-chip pancakes are going cold.”

You blink slowly, returning your gaze to him, a gentle smile on your face.

At least you’ll get to spend the rest of your life with someone as mindful and kind as Todoroki Shouto.

≫ ──── ≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫ ──── ≪

taglist: @bakugous-forehead @kamehamethot @burnedbyshoto @rivendell101 @cookies-n-chaos @katsukisprincess @rat-suki @bitchtrynafck @bnhatrashh @succulent-momma @multifandom-fanfic @that-one-enthusiast @blue-peach14 @pastel-prynce @bokunokangae @shoutodoki​ @todorki-shoto​ @bakuoushoe​ @1-800-callmekatsuki​ @tenyaingenium​ @lxvely-mha​ @myherorambles​ @ramen-rambles​ @honeytama​ @sleepysuneater​ @bratwritings​ @samanthaa-leanne​ @orokayagi​ @whats-her-quirk​ @riotfuckery​ @sunbeamwrites​ @bnhawritten​ @aizawamirite​ @lovekatsukibakugo​ @suckersuki​ @secondhand-trash​ @yaoyorozuwrites​ @kingtamakimurder​

[weeb-writor]

Babysitting Aizawa’s 6... no 10 Nieces and Nephews

Hey There! Today we have the second part to the Aizawa fic I posted a few days ago! It can act as a stand alone so don't worry if you haven't read the first one! Ill try to post it here but I'm new at this. Also isn't much Shouta x you in this, just domestic fluff! More a set up for the loving in the next work, I hope you'll still read it anyway. Reader is neutral and I hope you all enjoy!

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Aizawa Shouta x Reader

Aizawa’s mom goes into the hospital for an emergency surgery and all his siblings turn to you to watch their kids, but you don't remember there names let alone their kids.

Words: 2610

Part One  Part Two  Part Three  Part Four  Part Five

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You look a bit of mess currently. You were sitting at home in your pj’s with about 20 pictures scattered around you and 20 pieces of paper. You looked like one of those crazy conspiracies theorists. When in reality you were only trying to learn your boyfriend's family’s names and likes, in preparation for Christmas of course. It was not going so well all you could remember was Saika was the eldest sister but which sister was she exactly? You looked between the two pictures on the table. None of the Aizawa’s age so that didn’t give away and you couldn’t remember if she had the long hair or the bob. 

“God help me.” You mumbled with a sigh as you threw your head back. By some great miracle a phone call pulled you from the task. Surprised to see it was Aizawa you picked it up with a smile.

“Hey baby.” He said

“What’s up love? Aren’t you in class?” You said a tiny bit concerned.

“Should be but my mom’s going in for some emergency surgery, so me and my family are going up there.” 

“Oh, are you alright?? Do you want me to come?” You rushed out to him

“No, and I’m fine. It’s a fairly low risk surgery from what I’m told. There is of course something you could do for me.” He said lowly

“And that would be?” 

“My siblings need someone to watch their gremlins and I had the perfect person in mind.” He said with a light chuckle. You knew right away who this mysterious person was. Part of you wanted to say no because it was a lot of young kids but the other part of you knew you were gonna say yes.  Even if he didnt say so, Aizawa was worried and he didn’t need to be stuck watching the kids, none of them did.

“Yes, of course! Tell your siblings to bring them to my place. I got a few toys from babysitting years ago.” You said getting up to get ready.

“You're a lifesaver.” He said fondly

“Says the hero, I love you babe, everything is gonna be fine and of course be safe.” You told him

“Love you more, kitty cat. You’ll be great, see you when I get home.” He said hanging up. Well now you were panicking. How many kids were there again? What about their parents? You couldn’t even remember their names. How are you supposed to greet them? Holy shit what did you get yourself into is all you could think as you rushed to clean your house. You were barely finished when the first knock came, you opened the door with a small smile.

“L/N!” A tall black haired man said. He looked like Shouta no doubt but he had an undercut and was taller.

“Please call me Y/N.” You smiled at him.

“Aww, you're too sweet! Seriously, how did Shouta end up with you?! Anyway, This is Haru and Jun, they are gonna be good little boys for you, right?” He paused as the boys nodded. “Thank you so much we should all be back to pick the kids at 10!” He said as he started to leave. You waved him off and showed the boys in.

“Alright! So I’ve got a few toys and I think i've got all the cartoon channels. I want to make sure we get all your cousins here first before we do something really fun.” You said to the little boys who immediately went to sit on your couch and watch the cartoons that were playing. You let out a huge sigh of relief. It was done prematurely as a knock at the door was heard. You opened it to reveal his two sisters which was which you didn't know.

“L/N you sweet little lifesaver! This is the rest of them except Rei, Daisuke, and Maki. They all walk together from school, we let them know to come here so don't worry about walking to go get them. Also, only two of them are still in diapers so you should be fine! Thank you so much, love.” The shorter one rushed out before she left, pulling her sister with her. You looked done at the baby that had somehow got into your hands.  Alright this one was obviously in diapers, the one grasping on to your pant leg barely standing up was probably the other one in diapers. Okay you were now surrounded by um.. 6 six kids, maybe more you weren't sure. 

“Okay, now that we're all here, wanna play a game? It's really fun I promise.” You said with a cute little smile but you were lying. You only wanted them to introduce themselves and say who their parents were. You had no idea how to make it fun.

“What kind of game?” A little girl asked, wait you knew this one! She was the only young girl when you first met all the siblings, it was Nozomi, right?

“A umm…. A… A scavenger hunt! Yeah! We're all gonna introduce ourselves and then get into groups by who your Mama's and Papa’s are and see who can find all the treasures first! Whoever wins gets a super cool prize.” You said hoping they didn't ask too many questions about the game you just made up. Which they didn't they all were giggling and saying incoherent things excited to play.

“We’ll go first since we're the oldest. Im Haru.” The tallest one with his hair pulled back into a ponytail said. “I is Jun! Our papa is Shiori! Can we play now??” The cute little blonde one said. Okay 2 down, Tall and hair pulled back is Haru, Small and blonde is Jun, they are both Shiori kids. 

“Oh us next, us next! I'm Tetsuya, that's Umi, my lil sister, and Yukio is the one on your pants. My mama is Shizumi!” The boy said. He was a cute pudgy boy with black hair that covered his eyes. Umi, the little girl had her dark blue hair in two pigtails on top of her head.  Lastly the little boy holding on to your pants also had black hair but it was super curly.

“L/N, Oni-chans at school and Taiyo is too small.” Nozomi said with teary eyes. Okay so the one in your hand is Taiyo, another one of Saika kids. Okay you got this. You made it through all 7 kids, you would worry about the 3 at school later.

“Its alright me and you can be a team okay?” You said as she beamed up at you nodding. Alright with that you went to place the sleeping Taiyo on your bed. You left the door open so you could hear if he started to cry or moved around too much. You took a sheet and made a makeshift sling for… Yukio, right! 

“Okay so there are 3 hidden treasures around the house! One is a pink treasure chest filled with jewelry and prizes. The other is a huge blue fluffy whale, be careful it may bite! Lastly, there are 2 little lions wandering sound, we gotta catch. I'm gonna get you guys nets of course! First one to get all of these things and show me them gets a super cool prize!” You said as they erupted into cute tiny roars!

“Okay here are your nets! May the best team win!” You smiled at them as they took off. You felt a little bad for the Aizawa cats you had just set up to be chased but something told you they wouldn't mind. They were always so attention hungry this would probably please them.

“Okay then, lets go Nozomi!” You said grasping the young girl's hand. You knew where everything was of course so you just followed her around. Only helping her when you heard kids getting close to the hiding spots or helping her try to catch the cat. You guys had been playing for about an hour now, only needing to catch the cats who caught onto the game and were running for their lives.

“Kitty cat c’mere!” Jun said as he chased the gray cat around.

“Yeah! We jus wanna win.” Haru said following his brother. You laughed as the cat gently pawed at boys. Now that you were thinking about it there were so many boys in this family. Only 5 girls out of all these boys, Aizawa’s genes were strong for boys. You didn't get long to think before you saw a flash and heard a camera click. You turned to see 3 older children one with a camera.

“Oh man, Uncle Shouta is gonna be so happy.” The girl said with a smile. She looked to be about 12 and was blonde, if you had to guess she was Jun and Harus’s older sister. There were two boys next her one was probably the oldest of all the kids.

“Sorry for letting ourselves in, we were just knocking for a while and you didn't answer.” The older one said as they bowed.

“No no it's quite alright! Sorry for not answering, my hands are a little full!” You said as you had Taiyo still slung around your back and Umi squirming in your hands. 

“Yeah, we can see that!”

“Daisuke! Rei! We gotta catch the kitties so I can win a prize.” Nozomi said, rushing off to her brothers. You made a mental note of who was who.

“Oh no problem! Uncle sho’s cats are easy to catch.” Rei said and he was right, you just had to know how. He went over to the counter and got the cat treats and sprinkled a few on the floor. The cats came running and began eating as fast as they could. He then took the blanket/net and put it over the 2 cats and picked them up, they compiled so easily it was almost comical.

“Oh! Yay! I wins right?? I get the prize!” She said dancing around you.

“Yes you do! I should go get dinner ready but you can pick anything you want to take home.” You said booping her nose. She did a little gig before taking off like she knew what wanted.

“Alright, who wants to help with dinner!” You called to the kids you roared with agreement, racing to the kitchen

“Oh you three would you mind helping and introducing yourselves?” You asked as you took out a few different ingredients.

“Oh yeah! No problem! Im Daisuke, the eldest of all the Aizawa’s cousins. First year in high school actually! This is my little brother Rei, he is a middle schooler. Then the girl snapping pictures is Maki-chan she’s the closest to my age! Oh, Saika is my mom and uncle Shiori is Maki’s dad. What can we do to help out.” He said with a smile.

“I think they said introduce yourself but whatever.” Maki mumbled kind of chest fallen. You only laughed and pointed out what they could do while you helped the kids and before long boom, dinner was done. You might have to convince Aizawa to have kids soon cause they were actually helpful. You all set the table and sat down to eat, almost forgetting about Nozomi.

“Can I have this!” She rushed to you holding a black cat plushie that had red eyes. Aizawa had given it to you when he went on a mission that pulled him from home for a month. You gave a small smile to her.

“Of course! I said you could have anything you wanted, I meant it. Let's eat right now then you can go snuggle and lay down.” You said moving to pick her up and help her to the table. Your table of course wasn't big enough so the big kids were in the living room, the younger kids ate with you and the babies you fed first were now napping. You let out a breath, it was 7:30. They should be done by 10:00 at the latest and the younger kids would be asleep by 8:30, so you could say you had this in the bag. Dinner was peaceful to your surprise and now you were all washing up and laying down on the makeshift beds you made in the living room. Maki was taking pictures as you had put all the younger children into your shirts, it was quite a sight to behold.

“Alright everyone lay down!” You yelled as you grabbed the youngest and began rocking him back and forth. 

“We is ready” Umi said as she snuggled into her blankets

“Ready for what?” You asked cautiously.

“When we visit uncle Sho’ta he tells us ‘tories at nighty time.” Tetsuya slurred to you.

“Oh, okay then…. Um. Once upon a time there was a pretty Pink cat, who lived in a kingdom full of all kinds of cats. One day he got curious and left the safety of his kingdom. He went into a forest and everything was fine until he bumped into a big huge black wolf. He wanted to run back into the safety of his kingdom but the icy glare of the wolf kept him still. The wolf slowly opened its jaws…. Showing off its rows of bone crushing smile. The pink cat thought it was over for him until the Wolf smiled at him. ‘Your a little far from home, huh? Its okay I get lost sometimes! I can take you home.’ The wolf said, her tail starting to wag. The cat didn't know what made him say yes but he did. He continued to say yes time and time again, long after they had become friends. He said yes so many times to the cat he thought he might run out of yes’s to give. But when the wolf asked him to leave the safety of his kingdom behind and run around the world with him, though it frightened him. He said yes again without hesitation. And that's how the pretty pink cat learned to fly.” You said, it was a cheesy story with no real plot but it worked. You looked around to see everyone sleeping even the bigger kids. You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding. You looked at the lot one more time before you went to work on something you had been meaning to all day. You continued to work on it even as 10 o’clock hit and you said goodbye to the kids one by one. Only stopping when a familiar set of hands wrapped around your waist. 

“What’s this, kitty?” Aizawa asked as he kissed your neck sweetly.

“Ahh, nothing much! Just a family tree with pictures and the things about your family.” You said as you stated proudly at your work.

“Oh that's sweet. I saw the pictures Maki took and that you let Nozomi have your cat, I know it was special to you.” He said nuzzling further into your chest.

“It's fine, I told her she could have anything and to be honest, I'm wrapped around every single last one of them’s thumb and I would do anything for them so it really was nothing.” You said playing with his hands.

“God, I love you, how did I end up with you? I mean god I just love you. Let's get in bed. I wanna cuddle you, Right. Now.” He said turning you around and picking you up.

“Yes, sir.” You said clinging to him like a koala.

“Oh and babe, you got Shizumi and Saika mixed up.” He said into your hair.

“GOD DAMMIT”

[starsbythepocketful12]

headcanons cause i’m in flarrie hours

they are THE couple when it comes to halloween costumes

all their outfits for big events (parties, gigs where dirty candy and/or jatp perform) are coordinated

carrie my femme queen & flynn my nonbinary lesbian darling

go to protests & marches together

flynn lends carrie books by her favorite Black female authors & carrie lends her books by her favorite sapphic poets

they make playlists about each other but the other doesn’t know they do it (julie & kayla are the only ones permitted to know of the existence of these playlists & have been sworn to secrecy, though julie has a strong suspicion carrie also makes playlists about flynn and vice versa)

have a joint pinterest account for their wedding moodboard

carrie adopted a tiger cub and named it flynn for their three month anniversary

they go to the mall together every other weekend and shop, which they both love to do and when they get home they always model the new outfits they bought

flynn squeals every time they see a dog in public and always runs over and asks if they can pet it and carrie always watches her with such a fond look that the owner almost always makes a comment on what a lovely couple they are or asks how long they’ve been together (something that has actually been happening since even before they were dating, and back then you can imagine the flustered ness it caused)

flynn often comes to watch dirty candy rehearsals, cheer them on, make sure they’re staying hydrated/taking snack breaks and that carrie’s not overworking herself

carrie is the first person that flynn tells she wants to DJ professionally and carrie gets her her first gig

eventually flynn gets into producing as well and ends up making a track for carrie, who writes lyrics to it and it becomes dirty candy’s most successful song to date

carrie says i love you first one saturday afternoon while they’re watching a movie on flynn’s computer in her room. flynn laughs at a joke and carrie looks over at her, her beautiful, incredible girlfriend, and simply can’t resist the urge to say it

flynn’s shocked into silence so carrie panics and leaves and doesn’t answer flynn’s messages

that night flynn shows up at the wilson mansion and throws rocks at carrie’s window until she comes out

flynn is upset with carrie for running out and ghosting her and carrie’s trying to defend herself so they argue but then flynn interrupts carrie by kissing her and breathlessly saying, “i love you.” carrie kisses her and not another word on it is said

carrie steals flynn’s hats

they’re not really PDA-y, they just happen to engage in a lot of unconscious, casual affection, like flynn often absentmindedly intertwines their pinkies and carrie doesn’t realize her arm is around flynn’s shoulders until she’s doing it

even after months of dating will still flirt like they’re in their enemies who are secretly very attracted to e/o era

flynn really loves art, particularly murals, so she drags carrie to a lot of gallery openings and museums

at one point when flynn’s going through a hard time carrie enlists all their friends for help making a giant mural full of drawings of things that make her happy

flynn happy cries when she sees it and is pretty much always seen hugging carrie for the rest of that night

only really cuddle when one (or both) of them is sleepy, though flynn does often sit on carrie’s lap

before starting to date, carrie would tease flynn for having stuffed animals during their sleepovers at flynn’s until they started dating and flynn started spending more time at carrie’s and flynn discovers that her girlfriend’s a little hypocrite

flynn has a younger sister and brother (sister is six, brother is four) and they absolutely ADORE carrie and think she’s the coolest and carrie thinks they’re the cutest

flynn’s like no they’re little demons and carrie’s says who says demons can’t be cute? you once called me a demon right, and im cute, aren’t i? and flynn rolls her eyes and fights back a smile

flynn also has a college aged older sister who she looks up to a lot, like that’s her hero and absolute role model, so naturally carrie’s terrified to meet her, and though she tries to appear intimidating at first, she can’t keep up the act for long and starts being friendly with carrie pretty much right away

one day they’re supposed to go on a date but carrie’s sick and forgot to text flynn telling her not to come so flynn shows up at her house but stays anyway to look after her

flynn reads to her and makes her soup

trevor & flynn play video games while carrie naps

flynn makes jewelry in her free time and consults carrie for her thoughts on every piece (in junior year she starts selling them at school & turns out to be quite the entrepreneur)

they have an inside joke about cosmo and wanda

a couple of the dirty candy members sometimes jokingly flirt with flynn and are like “watch out! we’re gonna steal your girl!” and carrie gets possessive and apologizes for it pretty quickly but flynn thinks it’s hot so it works out pretty well

will watch bad rom coms to make fun of straight people and throw popcorn at the screen when they get together

pet/nick names: care, baby, babe, love, (from carrie to flynn who shuts down upon hearing it) honey, (flynn to carrie, who becomes very giddy the first time flynn says it in a text message) sweetheart

if you couldn’t tell before they ofc have an enemies to friends to lovers arc

move in together after graduating, neither planning on going to college (julie goes to berkeley and nick some other place in california where they have lacrosse cause that’s the sport he plays right) and their parents think it’ll be a disaster but it actually goes really well

the first couple of weeks they fight more, all petty arguments mostly out of the stress of moving, but they always talk it out

it doesn’t take long for them to be happy they’re living together and feel really glad they took that step

two years after graduating flynn gives her a promise ring

carrie cries her eyes out and replies “of fucking course, you dumb fuck” when flynn asks if she’ll take it

ten years later carrie’s a successful pop star/choreographer & flynn’s a record breaking producer/DJ and they’re about to buy a house when they realize they never got married

it’s just a moment where they’re relaxing together on the couch and suddenly are like. oh

and proceed to burst out laughing

it’s a small ceremony, thrown together in just three weeks

carrie wears a short, light pink dress with a heart cutout in the back that would probably be more suited for a high school sophomore’s spring fling but no one cares

flynn wears a suit, and is walked down the aisle by her older sister

they both tear up upon seeing each other and sob through the vows (the traditional pre written ones, they wrote vows for each other but they recite them to the other when they’re alone, so it’s something special only they can share)

julie & kayla are the maids of honor, nick and alex are the best men

julie & luke’s five year old hernando is the ring bearer & alex and willie’s three year old umi is the flower child

trevor, flynn’s older sister and parents cry

even flynn’s now teenage younger siblings, who as of late have often been stereotypically cynical and moody shed tears

jatp perform at the reception (they have also become a hit band at this point)

when they get back from the honeymoon the first thing they do is get a dog

they adopt a golden doodle rescue named stella

a couple years later they start talking about kids and look into getting a sperm donor

because they love being competitive they do little games to decide who will be the one to carry the baby

it’s all jokes though, they decided at the start of the process that it would be flynn for the first kid and carrie for the second

but then SURPRISE flynn has twins

a boy and a girl named tyler and ollie (who’s who i won’t tell you cause fuck gender)

they don’t even talk about carrie getting pregnant now cause they’re busy with the babies and trying to manage their careers but one night, when the kids are eight, and flynn has just flopped onto the couch with a dramatic sigh after putting them to bed, carrie puts down her kindle and quietly says that she wants another kid.

they talk for hours because while flynn wants another kid too, when you’re both celebrities with demanding jobs and people constantly trying to peer into your life, that decision involves even more factors

they decide to have another kid and carrie chooses to take a step back from her career for now-she’ll return to it eventually but for now she wants to be able to just be a parent without worrying about work and not have to deal with the guilt that comes with working when she feels like she should be being a parent

though the kids have always been their main priority and they have done quite well dividing their time between work and being with them, and have done decently shielding them from the public eye (majority of the pictures of ollie & tyler that the public has are blurry candids, and the few high quality ones are from when they were three and they no longer look like that anyway so it’s all good)

it’s a harder process for carrie to get pregnant as she’s almost 40 and flynn was 31 when she had tyler and ollie

but it happens though they’re careful about choosing the sperm donor-even briefly consider asking reggie or nick-because with this kind of thing there’s always the risk that other parent could track down where their kid ended up and want to be a part of that kid’s life later on which is uber complicated for many reasons so they get those scary possibilities out of the way by just finding someone who they know wants to be in the child’s life

preston choi, a thai & korean american mathematics professor ends up being their guy

he’s immensely genuine, sweet, respectful, polite, and gentlemanly

when he came out at fifteen his parents kicked him out of the house

it was a long and difficult journey but they’re in a decent place now

but it’s not the family he wants to have and he’s tried but has yet to find a partner

but doesn’t want to wait to have kids so here he is, more than happy to co parent with flynn and carrie

so that’s what they do! tyler and ollie become big siblings to miles wilson-choi on december 10th, 2044

miles grows up in the most multicultural home ever, being fluent in 4 languages (English, AAVE, Spanish thanks to their tia julie, Korean, and Thai) all their life

tyler & ollie welcome preston and miles into the family with open arms, as well as the addition of korean and thai cuisine to the already amazing dinner tables they had of soul and caribbean food

when miles is seven carrie goes back to work full time, with preston’s assurance that he’s got this when her and flynn are busy and tyler and ollie (who are now fifteen) promising they’ll help out as well

at that point the long awaited julie and the phantoms/carrie and flynn wilson collaboration FINALLY happens

flynn wins her 28th grammy for it, leaving her tied with beyoncé for most grammys won by any woman ever (its julie’s 14th, luke’s 6th, and carrie’s 12th, and the band’s collective 10th cause alex never did any solo projects and reggie released one country album but it didn’t win any grammys rip though it was nominated for 2 CMAs)

[lady-literature]

what a lion cannot manage

i have no excuse for this except that it is apparently my Brand™ now to write very niche AU’s that take one look at canon and then punch it in the face for being such a fucking nerd.

enjoy.

Ao3 | chp 1 | chp 2 | chp 3 | chp 4

Midoriya Izumi is born wailing.

A crying waif of a girl with eyes like copper-sulfate flames and magic bubbling hot and bright beneath her skin.

Inko stares, exhausted and flushed with the glow of new motherhood, down at her beautiful baby girl cradled in her arms. Her family gathers in close, yelling and jostling for a glimpse at their newest addition. 

She runs her pinkie finger down her daughter’s short stub of a nose, sweeps it under her fragile eye and over the bright apple of her chubby cheek all in one smooth motion. Izumi quiets almost immediately, and her big, green eyes stare up at Inko with far too much intelligence for a freshly born babe to have.

But, well, Izumi is no normal infant.

"Welcome to the world," Inko whispers over the shouts around her. Such a joyous occasion this is, she can’t fault them for yipping and barking in celebration. "It will shake beneath your feet, my sha’alabbin."

***

The family celebrates for three days following Izumi’s birth, as tradition dictates.

One day for love, one day for health, and one day for magic.

The celebration on the third day is very large indeed, for they have much to celebrate for.

***

Izumi is bundled into a cosy nursery nestled in the center of a large manor at the edge of a small, sleepy town. She sleeps in the nexus of the house, carefully chosen for her over the many months the family waited for her arrival.

Her room is decorated in forest greens and honey soft golds, filled with books and toys and many, many chairs for the steady stream of visitors she sees every day. There’s not a moment in her life where Izumi wonders if she is loved because it is painted in every crack and seam of her world.

Even she, still tender with infancy and still so ignorant to the world and how it works—but learning, oh, how quickly she learns—Izumi knows this. She knows because it’s obvious.

That doesn't stop her from crying when she thinks she’s alone, of course.

Object permanence takes longer to grasp than the love of her skulk.

***

No one in town can agree on exactly how many Midoriyas there are.

The family has lived there for generations, they’re as woven into the land and town as the roads and fields and rivers are. Everyone knows the Midoriyas.

But only as a group. A whole. Because knowing individual Midoriyas is infinitely trickier.

The family is friendly, and active enough in the town, but they’re so private. Living off at the very edge of town and half-hidden in the forest. And there always seems to be some strange relative visiting from one place or another, or family friends staying for this reason or that.

The number of Midoriays always seems to be changing.

But the townspeople, whenever asked, always seem to agree that there can’t be more than twelve at the house full time.

(There’s more than double that living within the manor. And none of them are ever ‘just visiting’.

None of the family ever corrects them.)

***

Izumi’s first word is momma.

Her second is why?

Her third is how?

Such a curious child, with questions spinning and whirling behind her eyes too fast to keep up with. She babbles non-stop, not quite words falling from her lips quicker than anyone can keep up with, including herself.

She cries when the skulk can’t understand her. Cries when her thoughts move too quickly for her to keep up with. Cries when she’s frustrated, hungry, sad, happy—cries and cries and cries.

All children cry when they’re young, but Midoriya Izumi never gets the memo to stop.

It becomes her most favored form of communication. And when you live in a house half bursting with foxes who can smell the different chemicals in your tears and hear the stuttering of your heartbeat, it’s a terribly valid way to do things.

So she does just fine, all things considered.

***

For the first few years, foxes are normal for the most part. Human, except for perhaps the ears and tail.

It’s not until they’re older that the strength comes in, or the strange affinity for words and Promises. It’s not until they’re older that magic begins pressing down on them with a suffocatingly affectionate weight, possessive in all things it deems to own.

At least, it shouldn’t. But as with so many things, the fledgling curse the Midoriyas are under complicates everything it touches.

It’s a good thing Inko had already been planning to be a stay at home mother, because Izumi is barely a year old and dances with magic like they are old friends. It clings to her in a way it hasn’t touched any of the skulk in years. Not since the curse that was meant to kill them bound them all to their own land instead.

Izumi is the first child born to the Midoriya skulk in over twenty years, is the first child born as Shual Nephesh in even longer. She is the first of the seventh daughter of the seventh daughter—a legacy of batsheva. Perhaps she would have been strange and different no matter what. Would have had this unusual relationship with the world even without the curse twisting everything.

But they will never know, and it does not help to think of what-ifs.

Inko worries, because her daughter is bright and clever and beloved even for a fox. Magic clings to her daughter’s soul and fate waits in her shadow and Inko worries because it doesn’t matter how much They may love Their avatars. So many great heroes of myth and legend—demi-gods by name and not—have been dearly loved and still shattered under the weight of their destiny.

One day, Izumi will burn for that life, and Inko will be helpless to stop her.

But for now, Izumi is allowed to just be small, is allowed to be a child and there is nowhere else Inko would rather be. So Inko stays at the family home even when the skulk could take care of her daughter as she worked, and she watches with pride and affection as her little Izumi grows and grows and grows.

***

Sat on Auntie Umi’s lap, Izumi hums without a care in the world.

Her Auntie’s long riot of black curls is pulled up on top of her head, safely out of reach of Izumi’s curious hands. She twists them into the strings of beads hanging around her Auntie’s neck instead. There are dozens of them carefully beaded onto the strings, each one unique in size and shape and color.

As Izumi touches them she knows—not sure how or why, but she knows—that they are not normal beads. Her fingers jolt at their touch and if she looks close, she can see they shine with a light that no normal glass bead has.

Everyone in the family has some. Prettily coloured not-beads hanging from necks and wrists and ears.

Nona has the most of them all. Her arms jangle and clink with all the jewelry she carries, but her neck stays bare save for a simple choker twined around her throat.

She asks then, because she’s never been good at keeping her words or questions to herself. Never quite grasped the talent of being silent. All her ideas and thoughts are too big and too many to keep neatly tucked away inside her head.

Uncle Kyo says that’s going to get her into trouble someday. He says that a silent fox is a clever fox, but Izumi doesn’t think that sounds quite right. Her thoughts are all too loud to keep them all inside. Isn’t it cleverer to get them out?

But then, she thinks, maybe she’s just a bad fox.

“They’re Promises, little kit.” Auntie Umi carefully untangles her fingers from the strings before playfully nipping at them and making her laugh. “Favors and debts and prizes I’ve won fair and square.”

“Like in a game?”

“Yes. I suppose,” Auntie Umi smiles in that way Izumi knows means she only got it kind of right. “It is quite like a game.”

***

Once she’s old enough to walk around town, Izumi captures the townspeople's hearts with startling ease. They quickly grow used to having her underfoot, always running about and asking questions and seemingly unintentionally causing mischief wherever she turns.

She’s such a curious and bright child. Spends hours upon hours reading any book she can get her hands on. Her eyes are a constant flicker of green, taking in everything around her with a sharpness no toddler should have.

Watching, learning, remembering—gorging herself on knowledge of any kind.

The librarians start to recognize and dote on her, so ardent in her pursuit of knowledge. They regularly give her treats and gifts, things Izumi takes and then repays as quickly as possible by helping to reshelve books or run errands or speak to the pixies living in the shelves to give back what they took when someone loses something valuable.

(“You are not fae,” her Nona says, “so your actions and words do not bind you. But debts are power just the same. You’ll do well to remember to never let another hold power over you, sha’alabbin.”)

She’s the town darling and Inko gets many offers for babysitting if she ever needs it and play-dates with the few other kids around his age.

Izumi always comes back home with more beads on her arms when she plays with the other kids.

Inko watches as she puts every one on her left wrist, never looking at them again, and finds herself smiling for no reason she can discern.

***

Izumi has two names: the one she's allowed to tell people and the real one.

Well, they’re both real, she supposes. Just in distinctly different ways.

The secret one though—the one she’s never told anyone because it’s the one written on her soul—that one has power.

All names have power, of course. It’s why foxes have two and why The Good Neighbors are so careful to never speak their own and why demons have none, angelic names burned and lost in the Fall.

But the secret name Izumi holds close to her heart, always so careful to protect, that one has power all on its own. Only her mother and Nona know it. Her mother, because she gave it to her, and Nona because she is Matriarch, leader and protector of them all. It’s her right to know it, just as it is Izumi’s to do with as she pleases.

It’s an Olde Name. One that is written only in the hearts of storytellers and hidden quietly in the wishes of victims yet to be saved.

Anyone can understand what it means. Somewhere in the back of their minds where instinct and history live, they know this name. The translation, should one know the path they must walk for this truth, would be easy.

Savior.

***

Izumi is three and the weight of names, so ignorantly given, press behind her teeth like bile. Bitter and making her ache with holding them all in. She has dozens of beads on her left wrist, pretty and light and jangling with names she doesn’t want. Promises she didn’t earn.

Her mother tells her the humans don’t know what it is they give away, that they cannot begin to understand the Promises they make. She tells her that humans can’t feel the weight of Magic on their skin like she can.

Izumi thinks that’s very sad. Poor mortals, deaf even to the magic floating around them when they are already clueless to so much.

It makes her want to protect them. Keep them safe from those that would use their ignorance without thought. Those who would play malicious tricks and spit cruel taunts of their superiority.

She tells her mother this childish wish and watches her smile, even as it doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

“How tiny you are for such large ambitions,” she tells her and playfully taps her nose, causing it to wrinkle. 

“I’ll grow!” Izumi insists, chest puffing out and tail fluffing to twice its normal size. “I’ll grow big and strong and I’ll be able to save everyone.”

“Yes,” her mom says, with that same sad smile. “Just like All Might, right?”

Izumi giggles and cheers at being compared to her hero, her idol, and in her chest, Inko’s heart remains steady. Because Inko has known this since Izumi was born. From that first moment her beautiful daughter had drawn breath, Inko had known. For all that Izumi seems too fragile and small now, one day…

One day Midoriya Izumi will be mighty.

***

There’s something strange about Izumi’s family.

She’s always known they aren’t quite normal, of course. Not by any human standard at least.

Half her family walks around with ears and tails most of the time and as brightly colored foxes for the rest. Lessons on illusions and glamours replace her bedtime stories and family time is always a mess of riddles and puzzles and languages that have never touched mortal lips.

So, no. Not normal, but there’s something else. Something no one ever speaks to her about.

She asks why she can’t go outside without hiding her tail and ears under the heady magics of a glamour, asks why she can’t speak about Nona and the outings they all have in the forest. Asks and asks and asks about why they must keep so many secrets. Why she always has to lie.

The only answer she ever really gets is: “So we can stay safe, sha’alabbin.”

Nobody ever tells her what they’re supposed to be staying safe from.

***

Tricksters—masters of illusion and rule-bending—are rarely ever held in place by bindings. Their magic is too slippery to be easily confined, unlike the proud dragons who hold magic in their throats or the rigid Nephilim, so solid in their convictions.

The magic of Shaalim Nephashoth twists and reshapes like smoke on the wind. Harmful magic passes through it, a natural defence for creatures who so often play pranks and tricks on important people. 

It takes a powerful magic user to bind a fox. And even then, they don’t stay bound for long, too often wiggling out of their enchantments.

To subdue an entire skulk of foxes, well…

The Takanashi clan may have been powerful hunters in their own rights, backed by sheer numbers if not skill, but they were no Grand Coven. The Midoriya Skulk, once so powerful and great, may have been weakened and bound to their land, but they were far from dying husks the hunters aimed for.

Their forest did not become their tomb, and they did not run scared.

The Midoriya Skulk survived their attack and that was the last mistake the Takanashi Clan ever made.

You do not wrong the Yōkai. Not if you’re smart, not if you wish to live happily.

(Not if you wish to live.)

***

It happens like this.

Izumi is born quirkless.

Izumi is born quirkless and it’s not a surprise. It’s almost expected when there is too much other in her veins to leave room for something so distinctly human.

This does not, of course, mean she is powerless.

Izumi, as a child, is more acquainted with power than most adults. It winds around her greedily and floats at her shoulders. It is her birthright, is her to command and call upon and do with as she pleases in spite of the Hunters’ irritating magical barrier she only vaguely knows exists.

(She is Shual Nephesh. She is a Midoriya. She is a batsheva legacy.

There is little she will be unable to do if she wishes it.)

But quirks and the power she wields are not the same, and they do not easily pass for one another. The skulk still waits in the shadows and the few remaining Takanashis still lurk at the edges, waiting for them to make a mistake.

A too powerful child will draw attention they cannot afford. But a powerless child is just as noticeable in this age of petty beliefs and false demi-gods.

So they lie.

A month after Izumi turns four, Inko tells anyone who asks that her daughter has enhanced senses, a common ‘quirk’ in their family. “Her newly sensitive nose gave her away,” Inko says with an amused chuckle.

It’s all perfectly ordinary and perfect for hiding in plain sight.

It’s not perfect for being a hero.

Before, when Izumi babbled happily about saving everyone in Japan (because Inko hasn’t told her yet, hasn’t yet dared to explain this unbearable truth), she got pats on the head and hearty encouragement.

Now, when she tells anyone who’ll listen about her dream of being the best hero ever, she’s met with only pity.

“Oh,” they whisper behind their hands, “ that poor girl will never make it. That poor girl with the world in her heart will get herself killed because she’s not strong enough, not big enough, not powerful enough.”

Izumi hears them, because no one ever realizes how much she hears or how much she pays attention.

She hears their heartbeats stutter too. When they tell her they believe in her, that she can do it, that they’ll be cheering her on the whole way.

And Izumi doesn’t understand.

She is clever and smart and powerful but she’s still so young. She hears all of this and doesn’t understand. She wants to yell at them, wants to scream that she can. That she’s enough.  

The truth burns on her tongue and Izumi wants to tell them everything so they’ll just stop.

She doesn’t. Instead, she swallows her words and bears the weight of it all. Every lie and pitiful look and useless piece of advice.

Izumi will be a hero. Whether anybody believes in her or not.

***

The townspeople aren’t mean and they aren’t cruel.

In fact, they’re very kind and Izumi loves them all in that way she adores all the best bits of humanity.

They aren’t cruel, but she thinks it might’ve been easier if they were. She thinks it would be easier to bear the disappointment of their lack of belief if they were hard-hearted and terrible.

But they aren’t.

And Izumi’s not sure how to feel about it.

***

She starts kindergarten with the ten other kids her age and finds she learns much faster than anybody else in her grade. Her small-town school can’t keep up with her hurricane mind.

They don’t let her skip kindergarten, because she’s meant to learn to socialize, but when she’s supposed to be starting first grade, they put her in a second-grade classroom instead. A spinning dervish of thoughts and ideas and questions half everyone’s size.

The second graders all call her Imouto-san and Izumi grins as she swings her feet beneath her too-big desk. No one else can see it, but Izumi’s tail wags fast enough to cause the wind to knock all of Hiro-san’s papers off his desk.

She apologizes, but can’t quite stop herself from doing it again.

***

Time moves on, and Izumi grows, but doesn’t change. Not really. Not in the ways that matter.

Magic still sings in her blood and sometimes, if she asks nicely and pays its price, it will do things for her. Not just glamours and charms but strange, impossible things that not even her Nona can do anymore.

(She is Shual Nephesh, is a Midoriya, is batsheva legacy, is fit to bursting with power. Sometimes, her Skulk wonders what she’d be like if not for the cage she’d been born into. Other times, they wonder if she's like that because of it, not in spite of.)

She’s still the town darling, sweet and kind enough to soften even Old Man Watanabe’s heart. She still cries and laughs often, and is still a bleeding heart.

It’s after school one day, when Izumi is walking home that she passes by the park. Normally, she cuts through the forest to get home instead of taking the main roads. That way she can run as fast as she likes without anyone asking questions.

But today was sunny and she wanted to enjoy it a little more. And, perhaps, she wanted to visit the Odd Shop on Main. Mrs Lily is always so nice and gives her new American sweets for free if she tells a joke—even if they're bad.

She's skipping passed the park gate when she notices it: harsh voices and the sound of someone being pushed over.

Her ears swivel automatically and her head follows a second later. When the scene registers, Izumi is already jumping over the tall fence, uncaring of who will see.

“Hey!” she yells, running full-tilt at the pair of third graders standing above Yashiro, one of her classmates. He was a soft-spoken kind of boy. Shy, but always nice to her even though she’s small and cries a lot.

The two older kids—twins she thinks, though she doesn’t know their names—turn to look at her. Their matching, glimmering insect wings buzz behind them in shock at her sudden arrival as she plants herself in front of Yashiro.

She puts her hands on her hips and tries to make the same face Nana Naoki makes when she’s particularly cross. “It’s not nice to push people,” she says scoldingly. “You should apologize.”

The twins look hesitant now that she’s standing there. It doesn't matter that she’s half their size and weighs about thirty-eight pounds soaking wet.

Everyone in town knows who she is.

And if, by some strange circumstance, they don’t, they know her family. The green hair and eyes can only mean one thing after all and, while no one is quite sure why, everyone knows better than to cross the Midoriyas.

(There’s just something about them, the air they carry, that makes one very careful to not provoke them.)

When neither twin makes any move to either leave or do as she says, Izumi hums meaningfully, the air around her turning stifling.

The girl grumbles, and glares over Izumi’s shoulder. “He should’ve stayed out of our way,” is all she says before grabbing her brother and stalking out of the park.

Izumi’s mouth twists, because that was not an apology, but she decides against going after them.

Yashiro has pulled himself to his knees and is gathering the things that fell from his book bag. Izumi kneels to help.

“Are you okay?” she asks. She doesn’t smell any blood and his heartbeat sounds normal, but it’s probably polite to ask anyway.

Yashiro looks at her, cheeks pink and shoulders hunched to his ears. “Yes, I- Thank you, Midoriya.”

She grins, handing him his pencil bag, newly refilled with all his pencils. “Anytime!”

***

It becomes a Thing.

The whole, ‘Izumi stepping in between schoolyard squabbles’ Thing.

It gets to the point that the other kids, older and younger, begin to expect her to step in. Because of course Izumi will help. She always does.

(Sometimes, she can even hear kids using the threat of her name to ward off bullies rather than saying they’ll tell a teacher. It makes something warm bloom in her chest every time.)

The arguments are never anything serious, and cases of bullying like with Yashiro and the twins are few and far between. The townspeople are good and so are all the kids, but they’re all still children. They get rowdy or into stupid fights over toys or someone accidentally fires off their quirk.

It doesn't quite matter how or why a situation pops up, because, for no real discernible reason, Izumi always finds herself stepping in the middle of it to play mediator.

Which is okay. She wouldn’t do it if she minded or anything—and it’s not like she can really stop herself either. She just… moves when she hears voices raised, like some strange sort of pavlovian response.

It’s not a problem. In fact, it’s great because Izumi is saving people, even if it’s only in small ways (but that's okay for now, she’ll work her way up to bigger ones) and the other townspeople have started to stop looking at her so pitifully.

And, well. It’s not quite what she wanted, and it’s not the reason she’s doing any of this anyway, but it feels… nice. Like a weight lifted from her shoulders she didn’t know was there.

***

Four months after it all becomes a Thing, Izumi gets into a fight.

Not on purpose, because she never seems to do these kinds of things on purpose, but she steps in the middle of an argument she probably shouldn’t have. It was bound to happen eventually.

The bigger boy, Daiki, has some impressive anger issues and a quirk that makes people around him just as angry as he is. She’s interrupted many altercations between him and some poor kid who accidentally set off his quirk. Normally, it takes only a few soothing words to calm them down.

Daiki is quick to anger, but equally quick to calm, if you know how.

And now, it seems, her luck has run out. The moment her mouth opens, Daiki is already screaming at her and the anger is just there. It burns, acidic and hot at the base of her throat.

She swallows it back and refuses to shout back. This is not the first time she’s been on the wrong end of his quirk, she knows how it works and she knows how to handle it.

That is, until he throws a punch at her.

Her head snaps to the side, cheek stinging with pain. She slowly turns back to Daiki, and for the first time in Izumi’s young life, she is furious.

Her eyes burn with unfamiliar rage. The taste of copper and iron sit heavy on her tongue. She bares her teeth in a ferocious snarl and Daiki steps back, suddenly afraid.

Later, she’ll feel unbearably sorry and embarrassed enough to spend an entire day making cookies with her mom to give to Daiki as an apology. But right now?

Right now, Izumi looks over this boy and finds him lacking. She looks at him through the haze of red and hears the rabbit-quick beating of his heart over the whispers of magic twinning at her fingertips and she leaps.

***

She gets in trouble, obviously.

But everyone knows her and they know Daiki’s quirk. They aren’t really mad at her for fighting, but they are mad at her for biting and scratching Daiki enough to draw blood and send him to the nurse.

(She fought dirty. Fought the only way she knew how, with her teeth and claws and wicked sharp mind. All Daiki had was his fists and anger.

He never stood a chance.)

Izumi cries after the haze of Daiki’s quirk falls away. Babbles apology after apology through the hot burn and hiccups of her tears. She didn’t want that to happen, didn’t want to hurt anyone like that.

When her mom comes to pick her up from the principal's office she looks disapproving. When they get home, Nona calls to see her and looks disappointed.

Izumi wants to burrow into the ground and never come back up.

When Nona asks why she had gotten into a fight like that, Izumi has to explain it all. Daiki’s quirk and the interrupting situations and stopping big kids from picking on little ones. She can’t tell what Nona’s thinking when she finishes and she doesn’t ask.

“A good fox,” her Nona says after a long moment, “is a smart fox.”

Nona doesn’t continue, but Izumi knows what she means anyway. She’s heard it her entire life.

A smart fox avoids fights.

A smart fox does not seek them out.

A smart fox does not fight for everyone.

A smart fox, when they absolutely must, only fights for themselves and what is theirs and nothing else.

Izumi, for all that she tries to be, is not a good fox.

But she knew that already. The whole skulk knew that.

She’s too loyal, too stubborn, cares too much and speaks too loud. She wants to be a hero. Wants to save everyone she meets and even the people she hasn’t.

There is a want, a need, that burns in her chest even know. It grows hotter each passing year as she watches all her favorite Heroes swoop in to save the day on the news.

In her heart of hearts, she knows one day she’ll be on that screen too. No matter how un-fox-like it is.

When Nona tells her only to fight for what is hers, Izumi does not argue and she does not barter.

She knows it will not get her anywhere.

Instead, Izumi says okay and takes every innocent person and helpless victim and tucks them in her heart as hers. She Promises to fight for them, Promises to win for them, Promises everything she has to strangers she has never and will never meet. 

Izumi Promises herself to the world and, at the tender age of seven, a shackle twines itself around her right wrist. All the vicious intensity of her vow boiled into iron. Her impossible affection for the world made physical for everyone to see.

Her Nona sets her mouth in a firm line, but behind her, Izumi sees her mom smile. And for Izumi…

For Izumi that is enough.

***

She’s eight when she meets a boy with fireflies in his palms and caramel in his skin.

He moves into the house next door, almost half a mile down the road, and Izumi can hear him and his mother scream at each other for an hour before it suddenly stops, the sound of a door slamming echoing into the air.

The next day, the mom and boy show up on their porch.

Izumi answers the door.

***

Katsuki stares up at the looming, old house and glares.

He didn’t want to be here in this stupid, nowhere town with a bunch of useless nobodies.

He wanted to be back at his old school, where everyone told him how great he was and always did what he said. Here, in this stupid small town, there were barely even any kids to order around.

It made Katsuki angry.

But the Old Hag and his Pops didn’t seem to care. He yelled and cried and demanded to stay and they still just packed him up and moved out to this stupid house that’s apparently been in his mom’s family for generations.

It looked old and smelled like mothballs.

Katsuki hated it.

He hated it and his stupid weirdo grandfather for dying and telling them in his will that they had to live here. What did it matter to his grandfather? He was dead!

Katsuki is alive and almost nine years old and it’s the end of the world.

“Oh,” the Old Hag says in surprise when the door opens. “Hello there, cutie.”

Standing at the open door is, instead of some adult, a fluffy green-haired girl almost an entire head shorter than himself and absolutely covered in freckles. She’s half-hidden behind the door and keeps looking between him and his mom rapidly.

Katsuki glares at her, baring his teeth in the hopes she’ll run away scared like all the other girls from his school did.

Instead, she just blinks at him and beams, sunshine bright and delighted.

It doesn’t get better from there.

***

Izumi stares at the boy with fireflies in his palms and can’t help but think this. This is what she's been waiting for. This boy with power bursting from skin too small to hold it all and Fate clinging at his heels.

This boy who’s like me in all the ways no one else has ever been. 

The boy, Bakugou Katsuki, does not think so. In fact, he doesn’t seem to like Izumi at all.

Izumi tries not to take the yelling and insults personally. Katsuki is upset and sad and on unfamiliar land with people he doesn’t know. Izumi would be scared too.

When she says that to Katsuki, she only gets shoved to the ground by blisteringly hot palms.

“I’m not scared, idiot!” His heartbeat stutters in his chest. “Stay away from me!”

So Izumi does. For a little while, at least.

She gives him a week.

***

For all his screamed insults and crude personality, Izumi finds there’s much more hiding beneath the surface of one volatile Bakugou Katsuki.

Her first glimpse is when he walks into her fourth-grade classroom despite him being her age. Izumi grins at him when he enters, eyes bright as he takes the seat in front of her. He’s smart, apparently. Smart enough to skip a grade like her, or perhaps just hard-working enough to overcompensate.

Izumi watches him throughout class, sees the way he takes notes and asks questions, and thinks that, perhaps, it’s a combination of the two.

***

He wants to be a Hero like her.

Wants to fight and win and beat back the darkness with his fists and teeth and sheer tenacity.

It’s different from what she thought a Hero should be. And different still from the kind of Hero she wants to be.

Battle versus rescue.

An image of unyielding victory versus the quiet surety of hope Izumi wants to spread.

This new side of heroics fascinates her and she can’t help asking about it. She wants to know everything and asks question after question, barely pausing to breathe.

“Holy fuck,” he exclaims, causing Izumi’s eyes to go wide. “Do you ever shut up?”

She opens her mouth and closes it. Then, “No. Not really.”

His scowl is the kind that curdles milk and perhaps Izumi should be offended or scared or any type of normal reaction, but instead, she just grins and offers to share some of her sour gummies. He takes them all, snapping his teeth at her like he expects her to protest but she only laughs.

Katsuki is sharp and feral like the cats in the forest and Izumi thinks perhaps it’s just that he’s never been shown the right kind of kindness. She knows better than anyone how an environment shapes a person.

There’s a whisper in the air when Izumi looks at him, a voice just at the edge of her hearing. It tells her to pay attention. Pay attention to this half molded boy standing at the crossroads of destiny. Pay attention to him because he’s going to be important.

And, well. If that's true then Izumi is hardly going to let his bad mood chase her away.

***

Katsuki holds out for an entire month before Izumi’s constant giggling laughs and habit of following him around town wears him down. The other kids are stupid and don’t like how he yells. They don’t do as he says and that pisses him off so he yells more and the cycle starts all over again.

So, Katsuki decides that even practically useless, annoying, Izumi is better than no friends at all.

***

“Why do you do that?” he asks her angrily one day, a few weeks into their friendship—not that Katsuki will call it that.

She’s climbing down from a tree, kitten held in her arms and she stares at him in confusion, head tilted to the side.

“Do what?”

“That!” he says as she happily passes the kitten to the preschooler he belonged to. She waves the toddler off with a grin while Katsuki fumes at her side. “You’re always sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong, doing stupid things for everybody and running around town like a chicken with its damn head cut off. Why?”

She’s always running off. Always so busy because she’s agreed to help this person or do that thing. Doesn’t she ever just stop?

Izumi blinks, before thinking over the question carefully.

“Why do you want to be a Hero?”

Katsuki glares, mouth already opening to demand a real answer, not a stupid question to his question, but Izumi speaks over him. “No. Really think, Katsuki. You say you want to win and be the best, but you could do that in any job. If you like fighting, you could be an MMA fighter, or a bounty hunter, or even join the military. Become a colonel or something, the youngest ever. But you don’t want to do that. You wanna be a Pro Hero. Why?”

She- He doesn’t- That isn’t-

Katsuki glares at her when he can’t come up with an answer. Saying he wants to be better than All Might sounds childish, and… it’s not really what Izumi’s asking anyway. He’ll look stupid if that’s what he says.

But, he doesn’t know the answer to the question she asked either. He’s just… always known that’s what he’d do, from the very first moment he’d learned what a Hero was. He never bothered with anything else, never bothered to question why.

Izumi just stares at him, her gaze digging into him with burning intensity like none of his secrets or thoughts are safe from her.

“The answer isn’t in your head or your fists, you know,” she says, looking away to pick up her bright yellow bag covered in Hero stickers and pins. When she turns back, her eyes are filled with a secretive light. She pokes his chest lightly. “It’s in there.”

***

Katsuki’s unusually quiet for the next three days.

She worries that she messed up, that she may have pushed Katsuki too far too fast.

But then she sees him climb a tree, just to pick the brightest apple to give to a little girl. And hold the door for the people behind him instead of slamming it shut. And immediately move to pick up the rest of Old Man Watanabe’s groceries that she can’t carry herself.

It’s such small acts of kindness, but it’s all things he hadn’t been doing before. He grumbles and shouts and rages the entire time he does them, but he wouldn’t be Katsuki if he wasn’t acting like he was angry.

Izumi can tell he’s pleased though when Old Man Watanabe thanks them. Hears his heart trip over the lie when he says he doesn’t give a damn what the old man thinks, causing the two temperamental blonds to begin squabbling like a couple of old fishwives.

(Izumi tried hiding her giggles behind her hand, but she doesn’t think she succeeded since Katsuki started yelling at her too.)

***

It isn’t long before Katsuki becomes Kacchan and Izumi becomes Izu or nerd or crybaby or a thousand other throw away, half-insulting nicknames.

Katsuki bears his nickname with as much elegance he can muster—which isn’t a lot—while Izumi always seems so delighted by hers. Even the insulting ones.

Katsuki never quite understands her obsession with nicknames, with being so very careful about introducing herself. The third time Izumi tries explaining the power of names without giving away magic and skulks and the world hidden in the stars that she’ll never get to share with her best friend—and the fourth time she’s cried over it—she gets a determined look in her eye.

The next moment, both her hands are on Katsuki’s chest, right above that soft place where your ribs begin to fall away, vulnerable and warm. The pressure she applies is firm and ungentle.

There is nothing gentle about what she plans to do next.

Katsuki doesn’t have a second name, not like Izumi does. He wears his soul on his sleeve and that terrifies Izumi so she’s going to fix it.

***

The thing about a name, is that it’s not just what someone calls you.

A name is a brand upon your soul. A name is the story that your entire being is dedicated to writing. A name is the culmination of everything that you were, that you are, that you will ever be.

It is the key that unlocks you, that most easily makes you vulnerable.

Izumi places her hand over that key, tenderly grabs that thing inside Katsuki that makes him all that he is, was, will ever be, and then she rips it from its lock. She takes her first true friend and reforges him  into something else, something better, something he was always meant to be.

Katsuki screams for only a moment. And then…

The fireflies in his palms turn to stars.

***

Bakugou Katsuki has two names.

The first one, is the one he was born with, the one he’s told everyone his entire life was his name.

The other is the one his strange, otherworldly best friend burns into him at the tender age of eight years old.

It’s an Olde Name. One that is painted across cave walls in human blood and tucked neatly behind the teeth of every battlefield corpse.

Anyone can understand what it means. Somewhere in the back of their minds where instinct and history live, they know this name. The translation, if one was willing to sacrifice for such knowledge, would be easy.

Warrior.

***

After, Izumi whispers her own name in his ear.

Her other name, the one she should never tell unless she’s absolutely sure she can trust them.

(Because it is an Olde name. Because she is batsheva legacy. Because she is the youngest Midoriya. Because there is too much power in her chest to be so careless with her name even if it’s her right to do with as she pleases.)

But Izumi knows she can trust Kacchan because he’s Kacchan. If she could’ve, she might’ve waited longer to tell him. Until her birthday maybe or after she convinced him to stop handing his name out to anyone who asks.

But things changed and she grew impatient. She knows his name—chose his name. It’s only fair he knows hers too.

Katsuki doesn’t quite know what it means to be given this gift, just like he doesn't quite know what it is Izumi did to him, but he promises to guard it all the same.

***

The pair are practically attached at the hip after that.

It’s something no one in town ever saw coming. In fact, they all half-believed the two would end up killing each other—or, more likely, that Katsuki would eventually kill Izumi.

It’s practically a miracle. By all accounts, the two should have crumbled under the weight of their volatile differences. Two opposites that never should have mixed coming together and working in a way no one can quite explain.

Where Izumi—strange, selfless, little Izumi—prefers to use her mind and heart to solve the problems she’s always running at without a second thought, Katsuki, her ever-present shadow, uses his fists and sharp tongue as his opening move. A bleeding heart shoved in the center of a human explosion.

For every insult Katsuki sees fit to fling, Izumi is right behind him with an apology and kind words as if she was created to temper the blond.

For all the times Izumi is too caught up in her own mind, thoughts too loud and emotions too high and all the variables too much, Katsuki is there to snap her out of it with easy decisions and barked orders.

They ebb and flow around one another. An ever-present push and pull between the two that sparks up into stubborn drive and exuberant competition. For all their differences, there are some places where they're just too similar. But it’s those that allow them to function as a unit at all.

A yin and yang, balanced and opposing and complimentary all rolled into one relationship.

Izumi becomes the filter through which Katsuki can interact with the world. She understands him in a way few can, can read him and speaks his language and know when he’s just posturing to save face. And in turn, Katsuki becomes the flame and gasoline made to keep Izumi running, keep moving forward, keep reaching and growing and building.

The townspeople grow used to the two of them running around and causing havoc. Rarely a day goes by without hearing of a new situation the pair have somehow roped themselves into.

But if asked, they can all agree. One day…

One day those kids will be extraordinary.

***

Time passes. Katsuki turns nine with little fanfare while the whole town pitches in for Izumi’s celebration.

When they both turn ten, Izumi ignores the months between their birthdays and celebrates them together so Katsuki can have a big party too. (She still gets another one on her actual birthday, but it was the thought that counted.)

At ten years old, Katsuki refuses to admit that Izumi is the best friend he’s ever had. Everyone can see it, but he never says it out loud.

At ten years old, Izumi knows it anyway so it doesn't really matter. His heart tells her it every time it stutters around the words ‘I hate you.’

At ten years old, both Izumi and Katsuki are looking towards the stars, eager and excited for what the future has in store.

At ten years old, All Might disappears from the public eye, and Izumi feels something hollow settle in her stomach.

***

I used a lot of Hebrew words to describe the foxes and endearments. I did this because it's a pretty language and is honestly not used enough. I do not speak Hebrew but tried to keep it as accurate as possible.

TRANSLATIONS: sha’alabbin: sly fox batsheva: "bat" is daughter, "sheva" is the number 7, so it literally means "7th daughter." Shual Nephesh: "shual" is fox, "nephesh" is literally translated as a soul but is also referenced as living beings/sentient creations. kinda like spirits. Shaalim Nephashoth: plural form of the above

[kys0g0i]

Mama Janus - Chapter Two

Word Count: 1125 words

Warnings: N/a

First Chapter | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

———

If it wasn’t so late, and if Janus wasn’t so tired from her day of work, she would have been nervous as all hell. It had been two weeks since her talk about children at Umi with her husband, and she was barely able to stop thinking about what they had discussed. She knew what she wanted now, she had for a couple of days, but she was just… scared to tell Roman. It was his idea in the first place, but she couldn’t help but feel as if it would go wrong somehow, and he’d get unbelievably pissed at her. She sighed, closing her eyes for a few moments before trying to focus on the TV in front of her and pulling their dark blue bed sheets higher on her.

A few moments later, she heard the door to their room open and entered her husband. He gave her a smile, and she returned it, hoping her nervousness wasn’t showing on her face. Which, it seemed to work, as he didn’t ask anything and just got in bed with her. Roman cuddled up to her, resting his head on her shoulder before wrapping an arm around her stomach. She softened, draping her own arm around him by curling it up around his waist. “Hi.” He murmured sleepily, sounding content.

“Hello love.” She said back as equally quiet, feeling her nervousness dissolve into adoration for her partner. “Tired?”

Roman gave a tiny nod, which turned into him nuzzling his head into her a bit more before closing his eyes. “Yeah… I woke up kinda early today to work on some commissions and I forgot to take as many breaks as I usually do because I got really invested in it.” He admitted. “I’m glad we both have tomorrow off so we can stay in bed longer and cuddle…”

Janus softly chuckled. She would have to agree with him. She was also pretty happy that they didn’t have to work soon. It was good to have a break, but it was even better when her husband agreed to take a day off as well. They were both quiet for a few moments before she forced herself to press on with what she had been wanting to say for a while. “Well… I actually wanted to talk about something with you. It’s not anything bad, it can wait until tomorrow if you’re too tired right now to talk, I just… want to get it out before I can talk myself out of saying anything at all.”

Roman hummed, pushing himself away from her so he could sit up properly. It seemed as if he was forcing his eyes to open when he did so, as it was slow and he only managed to halfway. “Yeah, I can talk. What’s up?” He asked, yawning for a moment. “Is something wrong?”

Janus shook her head, pushing herself to sit up more as well so it could match the mood that was seeming to set in the room. “No, nothing’s wrong.” She quickly said, not making eye contact with him. “It’s just… I’ve been thinking, about what we talked about at Umi not too long ago. And… I think I’ve decided what I want, and I want to tell you now.”

Even though she wasn’t meeting his eyes, she could tell he was surprised by the topic. She hoped it wasn’t a bad kind of surprise. “Oh, yeah yeah, sure,” Roman said quickly, it being obvious that his excitement was slowly overtaking his exhaust. “What is it?”

“I… I want to have a kid, and… I want to carry it too.”

It was silent for a few seconds between them, neither of them saying a word. It was as if all time stopped between them. Janus couldn’t even hear anything other than her own breathing. But, it didn’t last long, because Roman soon hugged her with more force than she believed he ever had before. He was smiling wide and bright, and kind of looked as if he was going to cry at any moment. “Oh, oh Janus! That’s great!” He exclaimed, pure joy in his voice. “Oh, I’m so happy to hear that!” He pulled back slightly to look at her. “Are you sure though? I’m not trying to talk you out of it or anything, I just know that pregnancy can be really taxing and hard, and I don’t want you to go through anything you aren’t 100% sure you want to do.”

Janus smiled back at him, nodding. She was so relieved he reacted this way. Even though it had been his idea in the first place to have a child, she had managed to convince herself that he was going to take it badly when she told him. So, she was happy that that didn’t happen. “Yeah, I’m positive that this is what I want to do.” She said certainly, returning the hug. “I’ve thought about it for a while, and this is the way I want to do it. If this way doesn’t work though, maybe we could adopt? Because I still want to have a child, even if me actually getting pregnant doesn’t work. Although, I know I am fertile, so I don’t think that part will be all that much of a problem.”

Roman nodded happily, and for a while, they just stayed completely still. She felt as if there were an unspoken agreement that neither of them wanted to ruin this moment. This precious, precious moment in time. The moment they decided to have a child.

“...Do you think we could go to sleep now?” Roman eventually asked, bringing Janus back to reality since she had been starting to fall asleep in his arms. She couldn’t help it. He was nice to hold, and she was tired, so she just started to drift off. It doesn’t help that she already took her medication to help her sleep, so she could probably just pass out at any moment.

“Oh, yeah, sorry.” She apologized, not wanting to pull away, but forcing herself to so they could lay down. Shifting, she fell back against the bed to be on her side, scars facing towards the ceiling. Roman soon followed suit, cuddling up next to her and wrapping his arms around her before nuzzling his head into her shoulder. She softened, putting her own arms around him and holding on tightly to him. “Thank you, for taking this so well.”

“Of course I’d take it well! It was my idea.” Roman said playfully, his sleepy voice starting to return.

“Yeah, I know.” Janus quietly and softly murmured, closing her eyes as she let herself relax into her husband. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Jan.”

[count-yeti]

Twenty seven years ago, a crazed alchemist created a new lifeform, the first homunculus created in over 500 years. The alchemist referred to the new lifeform simply as “Doll”, not giving it a proper name. Doll lived with this alchemist, named Xavier Ludwig St. James, for 10 years, until the mad alchemist accidentally killed himself in a lab explosion. Doll was left without anyone to care for him, and he knew no-one: his creator had never allowed Doll to meet anyone, besides his own master, who had died 5 years previously. Doll had no experience with emotions, feelings, deep thoughts, so when his creator died, he felt nothing more than annoyed that his source of food had disappeared. He’d never felt any sense of loyalty to his creator, viewing him only as a means of shelter and food.

A few months before this, a young mermaid in the Atlantic by the name of Umi lost both of her parents when their house collapsed. Umi had sneaked out of her house that night to watch the glow fish in the park at the edge of town, something her parents never let her do, so she was safe from the collapse. Though her parents had been strict, she still cared for them, and with them gone, she no longer had anyone to turn to. She had no friends, he only family had been her parents. What was she supposed to do?

While living on the streets, she overheard a conversation between two mermages, magic users. They were discussing a forbidden magical technique that would turn a merperson into a human. Umi had always been interested in the human world, watching human cartoons every chance she could, so when she heard those words, she immediately continued listening, learning the technique.

She went to the shore, drew a sign in the sand where the water met the land, and placed seashells in each of the cardinal directions, chanting a quick incantation. When next the waves came up the beach, erasing the sign in the sand she had made, she suddenly felt a sharp, burning pain in her tail. She writhed in pain on the beach as the sun rose on a new day. For some reason, no matter how loudly she tried to scream, no sound came out.

After what felt like a week, the pain subsided, and she laid in the sand, letting the sea lap over her. Without realising it, she fell asleep there. She was awakened several hours later when a child was walking along the beach, alone. He wore plain, dirty clothing, much like Umi herself wore.

“Oh, hello,” the young boy said, uninterested, looking down at her. “Why haven’t you got any pants on?”

Umi became embarrassed, and quickly curled up, covering he legs with her arms. She tried to speak, but no matter how hard she tried, no words came out. Why couldn’t she speak?

“Well, whatever. You mind moving over a little? You’re in my spot” the boy said with the same uninterested tone, sitting beside Umi after she had obliged, watching the surf.

Again, Umi tried to speak, and again no words came out. What was happening? Maybe I lost my voice after screaming in pain after the ritual, she thought to herself. No, wait, she thought, I wasn’t able to scream.

“You don’t have to try to force yourself to speak. I can clearly see you aren’t capable,” the young boy stated, matter-of-factly, as if observing that the sky or sea were blue.

What was with this boy? She thought. He acts so mature, but it doesn’t feel fake like it did when she saw kids acting mature on TV. It’s like he’s an adult in a child’s body, she said to herself. She tried to laugh at her thoughts, but found the she couldn’t even laugh. This revelation made her even more depressed than she was already feeling, and she uncurled herself from the fetal position she was in, laying flat on her back once more.

“Are you alright?” the boy asked her, still maintaining his unaffected tone, as if his asking were merely a formality.

Umi shook her head as best she could while laying in the sand and surf, feeling the sand getting all over her hair. She didn’t care, though, she didn’t care about anything anymore, really.

“Come with me,” the boy said in his emotionless voice, getting up and extending a hand down to Umi.

Umi waited a moment, confused. She then remembered she wasn’t wearing any pants, and became embarrassed again, curling up into a ball for a second time, hiding her naked lower half. She looked up at the boy, her face red, but he still had a blank expression, as if he didn’t care that she was half naked. What a weirdo, she thought. Weirdo though he was, she felt comfortable around him. She accepted his hand, and he carefully helped her stand.

This turned out to be a mistake, as almost immediately she fell back to the ground. She’d never walked before, after all. She’d been born a mermaid, and lived as a mermaid for 12 years. Legs were so weird.

“Hmm,” the boy said, finally showing an emotion: curiosity.

Umi looked up at him, feeling even more embarrassed than she had when she realised she was half naked. This boy had not only seen her without pants, he’d seen her fall so ungracefully, too!

“Here,” the boy said, taking off the thin jacket he was wearing and wrapping it around Umi’s waist after helping her up once more.

For some reason, him getting so close to her made her feel even more embarrassed, and she pushed him away, but not before he had finished wrapping his jacket around her waist, covering her bare legs, at least to some extent.

Unfortunately, he had been her support, and after she pushed him away, she once more fell to the ground. This time, she started feeling overwhelmed, and started to cry. Though no noise came from her throat, she could feel the hot tears streaming down her face. Crying felt so different on dry land…

The boy crouched, putting his hand gently on Umi’s head. Umi looked up at him, and though he still showed no emotion, she was starting to understand that he was kind. For some reason, seeing his expressionless face while she sat there in the sand getting wet from the surf and the tears streaming down her face, she started to laugh. Only, she still couldn’t make any sound.

“That’s good,” the boy tried to smile, but he couldn’t, as he’d never genuinely smiled in his ten years of existence.

Seeing his attempt at a smile only caused Umi to laugh even harder, and she realised she’d forgotten why she had been crying in the first place.

Once more, she tried to stand with the boy’s help, but unlike her previous attempts, this time she managed to stay standing. The boy crouched, and gestured for her to climb on his back. Umi didn’t understand, but she obliged, and the boy stood up straight once more with Umi on his back, giving her a piggy back ride.

“By the way, you can call me Doll. My creator never gave me a name, but he always called me Doll. I don’t have anyone to name me, so I guess I’m stuck with such a silly name,” the boy sighed, showing another brief emotion, as he effortlessly carried Umi up the beach.

Umi still couldn’t speak, so she just thumped Doll on the shoulder twice, letting him know that she’d understood.

Doll carried Umi for several miles, before finally reaching a nicely-sized house in a clearing in the woods. It reminded Umi of something out of an old horror movie, but it didn’t scare her. It actually felt kind of sad to her. It looked like the place wasn’t well-looked after, where it had been until just recently.

“Pardon the overgrowth,” Doll said to Umi, as if reading her mind. “My creator recently died, and now there is no one to take care of this place.”

Umi listened to him, noticing that though he was speaking of death, he still showed no emotion. What was with this boy, Doll? He was so strange, but being with him made her happy for some reason.

Inside was just like Umi was imagining it would be: dark, kind of dank, and straight out of an old horror movie, though just like the outside, it felt more sad than scary. Doll carried her a short way before setting her on a sofa in the living room.

“Wait here, I’ll get you some crutches or a cane to help you walk,” Doll said, leaving Umi sitting on the couch.

She looked about the room, noticing that it looked much like the typical living rooms from the mid century that she saw on reruns of old TV shows. The only modern looking thing in the room was the flat screen TV that sat opposite the sofa, hanging above a fireplace. The screen was covered in dust, as was most everything else in the living room.

Doll returned a few moments later with a pair of crutches. He helped Umi stand, and adjusted them to her meagre height. After he let go, she almost fell backwards onto the sofa, but using the crutches she managed to keep herself upright.

“Alright, now you don’t need to rely solely on me to get around, but I’ll try and be nearby at all times until you get the hang of walking,” Doll said simply.

Umi tried to thank him, but still no words would come, so she simply nodded her head in thanks.

Doll disappeared again, returning momentarily carrying a pair of shorts in his hands. He handed them to Umi, and stood, waiting. Umi looked at him with embarrassment, hoping he would understand that she felt uncomfortable changing in front of him, but he didn’t seem to get it, so she silently sighed and took off his jacket that had been around her waist and put on the shorts, which seemed to fit her quite well.

“I’m glad they fit,” Doll said, trying and failing to smile again.

Umi nodded her head in thanks again.

“Are you hungry?” Doll asked her out of no where.

Umi nodded, telling him she was.

“Alright, I’ll be right back,” Doll responded, leaving the living room.

He was gone for nearly 45 minutes, and Umi was getting really worried, but she didn’t feel there was anything she could do, as she still wasn’t confident enough to walk. Just as she was about to throw caution to the wind and leave to find him anyway, the front door opened, and Doll was standing there, a fishing rod in one hand and a bucket full of several fish in the other. She hobbled over to him quickly, and looked at him with big eyes, feeling a massive sense of relief that he’d come back.

“Sorry I was gone so long, it took a while for them to start biting. I hope you like fish,” he said, setting the rod next to the front door in the umbrella stand and bringing the fish into the kitchen.

Another 45 minutes passed, and Doll walked into the living room, carrying two large plates piled high with fish, and returned to the kitchen, coming back with two large bowls of rice. This boy must have a huge stomach, Umi thought, awing at the quantity of food he’d brought out.

Umi looked at Doll expectantly, and he sat beside her on the sofa, grabbing two dinner trays from behind the seat and placing them in front of Umi and himself, setting the plates and bowls on top of them. With that done, Doll began to eat.

Umi now looked at Doll for a different reason, and it took him a moment to notice, but when he turned to look at her, she tilted her head in the direction of the TV, wondering if she could turn it on.

“Oh, sure, here’s the remote,” Doll said, distractedly digging around for the remote in the armrest before handing it to her.

She spent a few minutes flipping through the channels, gawking at the sheer volume of choices to pick from. Back home, there were only a few dozen channels, which didn’t come close to the hundreds she could choose from here on land.

“Not used to all the choices?” Doll asked between massive forkfuls of food, reading her mind.

She nodded her head, before realising she hadn’t touched her food, and hurriedly digging in.

“Don’t eat too quickly,” Doll instructed, not realising that he had no right to talk on the matter of eating too quickly.

Umi simply looked at him with a quizzical look.

“What?” Doll asked, his fork still in his mouth.

She shook her head in response and returned to her meal. It’d been a while since she’d eaten real food, especially with somebody else, having lived mostly on scraps after her parents died, leaving her alone.

Doll noticed the look on her face as she recalled her loneliness, and tried again to smile at her. He failed, and Umi started laughing again, briefly forgetting her pain.

“That was not the intended reaction,” Doll said demurely, taking another mouthful of food.

Umi smiled at him, and went back to eating her meal. The two of them spent the rest of their meal in silence, the only sound being the TV and their forks clinking against their plates.

After they Umi finished her dinner – Doll finished a good 5 minutes before she did – Doll collected their plates and brought them to the kitchen, cleaning them. He came back to the living room carrying a small tray of cookies and a pitcher full of milk.

“Do you like cookies?” Doll ask, setting the tray and pitcher on the coffee table.

Umi just stared at him dully, not being able to answer. She’d only seen cookies while watching TV, she’d never had cookies herself.

“Hmm,” Doll intoned, looking at Umi with an emotion he’d shown earlier when they’d first met: curiosity.

She became self conscious of his eyes on her, and turned her gaze to the cookies on the table. She couldn’t stop thinking about the intensity of his stare, but she also couldn’t stop wondering what cookies tasted like. Umi started to laugh again, amused by the simplicity of the thought of cookies. She’d spent several months living on the streets after her parents died, she never thought she’d have dessert again, or be able to laugh – though she wasn’t sure she could call it laughing since no sound was coming out.

“Here you go. I only gave you one for now, since it seems like you’ve never had cookies before,” Doll said with his usual tone of voice, setting a small plate with a single cookie and a glass of milk in front of Umi.

Umi slowly started eating the cookie, following Doll’s lead as he dunked his own cookie into his glass of milk before eating it. She stuck the cookie, now wet with milk, in her mouth, and savoured the taste. She’d never had anything like it! In her hometown, the food was generally rather plain, even the desserts, so she’d never really grown up with sweets. Still, the taste of the cookie reminded her of home, of her parents. She wished she could have shared the cookies with them, but now she would never see them again.

“Are you alright?” Doll asked her while staring intently at her face after he had finished his own cookies.

She wasn’t sure what he meant. Why was he asking if she was alright? Then, she felt the tears streaming down her face. How had she not noticed the tears? She couldn’t stop them…

Doll got up from the sofa and left the room briefly, returning with a handkerchief, and taking his seat once more, dabbing softly at Umi’s face as she cried. She couldn’t stop crying, thinking about her parents. She grabbed Doll’s hand as he went to dry her eyes again, and pulled him close, wrapping him in a big hug as she continued to cry. Doll, intrigued by her emotions, simply allowed her to hold him.

After she finished crying some 10 minutes later, she sat awkwardly on the sofa while Doll brought their plates and glasses from the cookies to the kitchen. She’d clung to him for 10 whole minutes! What was he going to say when he came back? Surely he felt like she was weird, she had suddenly started crying and then wrapped him in a huge hug without letting go.

“Are you better now?” Doll said softly, showing an emotion she hadn’t thought him capable of before: concern.

For his part, Doll was confused by the tone of his voice, too. Why had it come out that way? He couldn’t tell, and that confused him further. Umi looked at him, trying to seem like she wasn’t staring when she was, and saw that he was confused, too. She started blushing and nodded her head in answer to his question.

“That’s good,” Doll said, sounding somewhat distracted.

He returned to his seat on the sofa, folding up the dinner trays and putting them back behind the couch. After that, he silently sat and watched the TV, not seeming very interested in what was on.

“Can you write?” Doll asked suddenly some minutes later, surprising Umi and making her jump a little.

Umi shook her head; she could speak and understand spoken English as her parents had taught her, and many of the shows she watched were in English, but she’d never learned to write the language.

“Hmm,” Doll hummed. “Do you want me to teach you how?”

She nodded her head. She wasn’t sure how long she’d be unable to speak for, so it would be useful to be able to communicate some other way besides gestures.

“I’ll be right back,” Doll said as he got up and left the room once more.

He returned 10 or so minutes later, carrying some books and a small dry erase board and marker. He stood in the doorway briefly, looking around the living room, before turning around and leaving again. A minute later, he came back into the living room empty handed.

“Come on, we can study in the study where we’ll have more work space,” he said to Umi, offering her his hand to help her up.

Umi slowly hobbled behind Doll on her crutches. He was going as slow as he could so she could keep up, but he didn’t seem too bothered by his need to accommodate her slow pace. In fact, he didn’t seem to be bothered by Umi at all, even though she couldn’t speak, couldn’t walk, and kept breaking down into tears.

“Alright, you can sit here, across from me,” Doll said after they’d reached the study, which was on the other side of the house from the living room.

Together, they spent the rest of the day until the sunset studying. Doll would occasionally leave the room and return with snacks for the two of them, and they’d continue working as they ate. Umi worked hard, and by the end of the day she had at least gotten most of the alphabet down.

“Good work,” Doll said simply, patting her on the head for some reason. “I saw that on TV, apparently it’s a way of rewarding someone after a day of studying.”

Umi blushed and cast her eyes downward. Doll was really weird, but she liked being with him, and was really grateful towards him for helping her study.

“Oh, that’s right – do you have a place to stay?” Doll asked her, turning around in the doorway as he was leaving.

She shook her head.

“Alright, you can stay here from now on, then. I’ll show you around,” he said, going back to her and helping her get up from the chair she’d been sitting in.

She almost fell over as she tried to stand, not used to sitting for so long, but Doll caught her before she could land on her but like she had in the morning, when they’d first met. She blushed and rested her crutches under her arms, and followed behind Doll as he walked slowly out of the room.

He showed her around the house that had once belong to his creator, but was now his. The kitchen, the dining room, the many bedrooms and bathrooms. At the end, he showed her to a bedroom that was bigger than the others, and looked more well maintained.

“This will be your room. It’s the main guest room, so we always kept it cleaner than the other rooms. It also happens to be right next to my own room. If you need anything, just knock on this wall,” Doll said, speaking more words in one go than Umi’d heard him speak since they’d met.

Umi nodded her head and sat on the soft bed. She’d never slept in a bed before: mermaids didn’t sleep in the traditional sense, instead families had communal rooms that they would share and rest in together, simply sort of floating in the water in a state of half consciousness, semi-aware to their surroundings. Though, after her parents died and her home was destroyed, she instead generally slept in a patch of kelp in the park.

Doll noticed the reticence that showed on her face, and walked over to the other side of the bed and got into it.

“You’re not from the world of humanity, are you?” Doll asked her, looking down towards her from his spot in the bed.

She didn’t know how to respond, and started feeling frantic. She looked at his face, and she calmed down. Something told her that she could answer truthfully, and that he wouldn’t say anything bad. She nodded her head slowly.

“Hmm. Are you a mermaid?” he asked, using the same tone of voice one uses to ask what time it was.

Umi once again felt frantic. How had he figured it out? Could he read her mind, or something? Again, she looked at his face, and calmed down. He seemed to have such a calming effect on her, how weird. He was just a weird guy in general… She nodded her head, telling him she was a mermaid.

“I see,” he said, putting his hand under his chin in thought. “I believe my master had a mermaid-turned-human friend, though I never met him.”

She looked at him with a burning gaze, questions all over her face. Before she could ask any questions, however, she realised that Doll had fallen asleep. Wasn’t this supposed to be her bed? She shook his shoulders, but he didn’t wake up. She shook him again, this time successfully waking him.

“Huh? My apologise, I didn’t mean to fall asleep so suddenly,” he said, showing the emotion of regret.

Umi shook her head, saying she didn’t mind.

“Right, this is your bed,” Doll said, slowly getting himself out from under the covers and standing up. “I’m going to go look through my creator’s books to try and find his notes on his mermaid friend. Maybe I’ll find something that will help you; in the meantime, go ahead and get some sleep.”

With that, he left the room, closing her door behind him. Umi didn’t know what to do. She’d seen people going to bed on TV before, and Doll had just demonstrated it to her himself, but she’d never slept in the human sense. How did one get to sleep? Doll had done it so naturally himself just now, but Umi wasn’t sure how to. Maybe it wasn’t too different from what she was used to? With that final thought in her head, she cautiously got under the covers and laid her head on the pillows.

Not long after, she fell asleep.

[dc-x-readers]

Your Boy (Damian Wayne x Parental!Reader)

This is not a romantic fic, and it is gender neutral! Yay Me!

People who are always asking me for a part 2, don’t worry this one will have one. I hope you all enjoy!

TW: Cannon typical injuries, mentions of blood

You found him lying on the street. If you had been anyone else you would have probably kept moving, averted your eyes and pushed the image from your mind. But you were new to Gotham, and you still had that bleeding heart; so you walked over to the boy who lay in the grimy alley way in a too expensive suit and a bloody head.

“Hey kid.” You said, shaking his shoulder lightly, hoping the child would wake up.

The kid did, his eyes shot open, dark hazel orbs meeting your own. He looked scared and disoriented. You weren’t the most parental figure, but you suddenly wanted to wrap the child up in your arms and hold him close, tell him it would all be okay.

“Kid.” You tried again, “We need to get you to a hospital, or the cops, or something.”

This seemed to wake the kid up immediately, he looked at you with wide eyes, “No. No hospitals.”

Probably a street kid then, you nodded to yourself, because street kids never wanted to be put back into the foster system, and that broke your heart slightly. But you didn’t say that out loud.

“Listen kid,” You tried again, softly this time, “You’re bleeding from a head wound. It’s probably not good. I’m no doctor, you should really get checked out.”

The kid whipped at his forehead as if he was just noticing the blood. He didn’t say a word, just stared down at his bloodied hand.

“Come on. I’ll take you to urgent care. They don’t ask too many questions there.” You said finally, standing up and then offering him a hand up as well. The kid took it, sluggishly and you smiled at him.

He was small, but he was deceptively heavy, probably all muscles. But his weight meant you couldn’t carry him, you would just have to help support his weight. The two of you made it to the free clinic in good time, and in almost complete silence, aside from a few groans of pain.

While the two of you sat in the waiting room the boy attached himself to you, it was like he imprinted on you. You were filling out paperwork fo the kid, in preparation for him to see the doctor.

“What’s your name kid?” You asked not looking up from the file, you expected a quick answer, and after a moment of silence you looked at the child sitting next to you. He looked horrified, he didn’t even know his own name, he must of hit his head really hard.

“Shit kid,” You whispered, “You’ve got to–”

Fear and panic swam into the kid’s eyes, “No please, I can’t go…” He trailed off.

This kid was terrified of something, and he didn’t even know what it was. You felt pity for him, you couldn’t throw him back to the wolves that was the foster system. You wanted to protect him, which was odd, because you had never felt an urge like this before.

“Fine, fine. For now you are going to say you are Ian L/N.” You whispered pulling a name out of your ass, “and you are my baby brother. Got it?”

The kid nodded, “Ian.” He said in confirmation.

The nurse didn’t say anything when you gave her the paperwork, but she did look between you and the little boy. She didn’t seem to believe you were related. But this was the bad part of Gotham, and the boy was still clinging to you as if his life depended on it, so she didn’t say a word.

A few hours later Ian returned to you, his head was sewn shut with three stitches, and the tired nurse explained that he had a concussion and that probably caused his memory loss. The memories would return in their own time, and that you shouldn’t force them. She said that with a concussion he shouldn’t do anything that provided too much brain power, and absolutely no electronics. Then she sent the two of you home.

You didn’t know what to do with the kid, Ian now, but you couldn’t just leave him on the street again. So you took him to your home, it was a small studio apartment with barley enough to take care of yourself, let alone a child. But you heated him up some canned soup, and then put him to bed in your bed, while you took the scratchy couch.

That night you dreamed of nothing.

It was a week after you had found Ian, and you were gladly getting into the routine of him being in your house. You would leave early in the morning for work, always giving him a kiss on the forehead and making him promise to take it easy with his concussion. You would come home after your shift with new foods, those that an eight year old (you were assuming he was eight, he looked young) might like. Then together you would take a short walk around the block, and Ian’s face would light up everytime he saw an animal. You loved it when he smiled, for a small kid he was too serious, except when he saw a dog or cat. He would always ask the owner if he could pet the animal.

It was a normal night for the two of you, he was reading one of your old books, and you were cooking dinner for the two of you. You heard the book fall to the ground. You turned around scared, because Ian was surprisingly agile, and you had never seen him drop anything. He was staring at you, his hazel eyes wide and scared.

“Y/N.” He whispered it, it was a terrified whisper, and you ran to him, abandoning the dinner. “Y/N, I remember my name. It’s Damian. I’m Damian – I am Damian something.”

Ian–Damian, was crying now, and you didn’t know what to do. This kid didn’t show his range of emotions a lot, so you just reached around him and gave him a hug.

“Why can’t I remember who I am?” Damian asked softly.

“You will. I know you will soon.” You whispered.

The dinner was forgotten and went cold, but you kept holding Damian as he cried. And you were okay with that.

Damian’s concussion had faded away, and you were worried about him being in your apartment all day, it might look like kidnapping or something, so you enrolled him in school, under the name Damian L/N.

After his first day of school you treated him to a night out, you couldn’t afford a fancy dinner, but you went to a small greasy diner and ordered him an ice cream. You asked him how his day was, and Damian told you that everyone at his school was an imbecile, and you laughed.

You don’t know exactly when it happened, but Damian had somehow wormed his way into your heart, and now you couldn’t imagine your life without him.

You couldn’t imagine walks without him stopping every dog owner to ask if he could pet them.

You couldn’t imagine going to the park without him playing with a stick, acting like it was a sword. (You had noticed he was all too good with it.)

And you definitely couldn’t imagine Friday nights when you two would curl up in your chair and watch movies, Damian likes action movies, and you indulged him.

You worried about the fact that Damian still hadn’t regained any of his memories from before he was with you. You tried to get him to go to the clinic, but every time he would conveniently disappear and not come back until you sighed that you wouldn’t take him. From his fears of the police and the hospitals, you figured it was a life he didn’t really want to remember so you tried not to push it too hard.

The two of you had been together for six months when everything changed, and you were so happy about it. Damian was home from school, his homework spread out on your table and you were happily reading a new book from the library.

Damian without looking up from his home work said, “Hey mother, I need you to sign a permission slip for me.”

Damian didn’t even notice that he called you mother, but you certainly did. You stared dumbfounded at the boy at the table, you heart soaring. You had never felt so good, so accomplished, in your entire life. Damian saw you as a mother, and you (God help you) saw him as a son as well.

“Y/N” Damian said again, this time looking up, “Did you hear me?”

“Yeah, yeah Dami. I’ll sign it.” You were still smiling like a fool and Damian noticed, but he said nothing.

The field trip was on Monday and you and Damian were on your daily walk to the park. It was growing colder, and the sun was going down earlier. Damian had insisted he didn’t need a jacket, and his teeth were now chattering, but he was too stubborn to admit he was cold, and you were laughing silently at the ordeal.

“We better get going.” You told Damian, looking at the fast darkening sky, “It’s getting dark, so no petting any dogs okay.”

You loved Gotham, but it was not the type of place that you wanted to be at night, even if Batman would protect you.

“TT. I’m not afraid of the dark.” Damian huffed.

“Well I am Dami. So we better get going.” You replied automatically.

“I will protect you if anything happens Umi.” Damian boasted, he had started calling you Umi about three months ago, and after your initial confusion you googled it to learn that Umi was Mom in arabic. Which was at least one clue into his past.

“I know you will kid.”

They two of you were about two blocks from your apartment, the sun had already dipped below the horizon, when none other than the Batman jumped in front of the two of you. You pulled Damian behind you, putting yourself between your kid and a grown man with a weird fursona.

“You.” The Batman seethed, his voice was gravelly and dark. He sounded like he was going to kill you, and you knew the Batman didn’t kill so you were terrified. “Stole him away from me.”

Him?

Did Batman know your Damian? Was that his life before you, as the Robin? No wonder the kid was bloody and bruised when you met him.

“No,” Damian said, trying to get out from behind you, but you wouldn’t let him. Because you be damned if you kid got hurt by a costumed vigilante. “No father, she didn’t steal me. She saved me.”

While you couldn’t see the Batman’s face, you could feel his palpable shock at Damian’s words. They mirrored your own shock, because Father?

“Young man,” You said, not looking at Damian, because you still were keeping yourself between him and the Batman (who apparently is his father), “You told me you didn’t remember your past. You lied to me?”

“Maybe we shouldn’t do this here.” Damian huffed, stepping around you so he could see the Batman fully.

Damian sighed and grabbed your hand, pulling you towards your apartment, “Come on.”

The Batman followed behind you silently, and it was awkward to say the least, for a vigilante to be walking behind you and your kid, him towering over your shoulder. You could feel the Batman’s eyes on you, as if this were all your fault, and not his for leaving his son to bleed out in a dirty alley way.

As soon as you three all entered your apartment, Batman rounded on Damian.

“You left. You were gone for almost a year, do you know how worried I was. I thought you had died!”

“I didn’t die, I was completely safe. Y/N was taking care of me.” Damian replied shortly, one hand was curled into a ball, and the other was still holding your own. It reminded you of the first day you had him, when he wouldn’t let go of you, as if you were his life line.

“But I didn’t know that!” Batman countered, raising his voice so that you flinched. Damian squeezes your hand tighter, stepping a little in front of you, as if he was protecting you. The movement didn’t escape Batman’s knowledge, and he took a deep breath to calm himself.

“Damian.” You spoke softly, and the boy turned to look up at you, his big hazel eyes wide and full of terror. You never raised your voice at the boy, and you wouldn’t start now, “You should have told him where you were. You should have told me you remembered you past. Why didn’t you?”

And you could see the tears gathering in Damian’s eyes. He acted so strong and mature, sometimes you forgot that he was still just a child. You kneeled down and pulled him into a tight hug, “He would have taken me away from you. And I didn’t want to leave Umi. I wanted to stay with you.”

You looked at the Batman, who was watching the display carefully, and you wondered if he would take your son away.

Finally Batman sighed, and he pulled down his mask, revealing the face of the billionaire Bruce Wayne. You wanted to be shocked that you knew who Batman was, but right now you could only focus on the child in your arms. You stared at Bruce Wayne, and pleaded with your eyes, you couldn’t let your boy go.

“We’ll figure this out Damian.” Bruce Wayne finally whispered. “I won’t take her away from you.”

[gh03st-writer]

Madam Kadara

Summary:  Phoenix Ryder got herself exiled after joining the revolt on the Nexus when both the Arks and Pathfinders were nowhere in sight. After over a year of coping with losing her family and being stranded in a whole new galaxy, she finally gets word of an Ark docking the Nexus: the Ark Hyperion. The arrival of the Hyperion and its Pathfinder shakes Phoenix’s world and forces her to consider her position as an information dealer on Kadara.

Pairing: Reyes x OFC

Warnings: more angst ngl

A/N: I am, how do the kids say, a fucking FOOL. Lmao I realized that I made an oopsie and that Umi is, in fact, a bartender at Kralla’s song and not Tartarus so I fixed it. 

chapter 1

Chapter 2: XOXO Phoenix

“What,” Reyes wasn’t sure at first if he had heard he correctly, her words muddled in a whisper filled with emotion.

           “The Human Ark made it to the Nexus, my family made it to Andromeda,” Phoenix uttered.

           “That’s great,” Reyes brought his hands up to hold her face and wipe away her tears, “Then these are tears of joy?”

           Phoenix barely registered his hands on her face, “I don’t…I don’t know,” she laughed suddenly, sadly, as she started to fully process her emotions in real-time. Her hands covered Reyes’ as he held her face, “I came here for answers and it looks like I learned more than I wanted to.”

           “Ah, the curse of the information dealer,” Reyes moved to sit next to her and pulled her into his arms.

           Phoenix melted into him, welcoming the comfort, “Thank you.”

           Reyes brushed a piece of hair from her face as she leaned against him, “Of course.”

He didn’t need to ask her to elaborate, Reyes was the only one that Phoenix ever let herself be vulnerable around since the revolt and it weighed on her more than she was willing to admit.

           She took in a deep breath and let it out slowly before opening her Omni-tool, “Now, be a dear and help me write a message to my little sister that won’t cause her to immediately panic or burst into tears like I just did.”

***

           “You have new email at your terminal, Pathfinder,” SAM’s voice rang out through the Tempest.

           Sara stretched, she had just gotten out of a meeting with Evfra and the Moshae after restoring Aya’s Vault, “Thanks, SAM.”

           She told Kallo and to set their destination for Kadara, home of the exiles and where she needed to meet the Resistance’s contact to get a hold of the Angara that helped the Kett capture the Moshae. The walk to her quarters felt to drag on a lot longer than it did, exhaustion starting to get to her. Sara flopped on her bed and laid there for a moment before considering the possible importance of the email someone sent her. She grunted, “SAM, who is my email from?”

           SAM’s voice echoed in Sara’s head, “You have an email from the Moshae, Evfra, several of the crew, and Phoenix.”

           At the mention of her sister’s name, Sara immediately shot out of bed and rushed over to her email terminal. She scrolled until she landed on the email in question. It brought a strange sensation to her heart; Sara had asked Tempest leaders more than once what had happened to Phoenix and where she was but no one would give her a straight answer. She was hoping that her trip to Kadara would give her any sort of clue, and it looks like her hopes were being answered.

Hey Little Sis

Welcome to Andromeda!

I’m sure it’s already been more than we bargained for because it certainly was for me.

I have so much I want to tell you but it’ll be easier to do it in person.

I’m not exactly welcome on the Nexus right now so stop by Kadara when you get the chance and go to a club called Kralla’s Song. We can chat, have a drink, and try to make sense of all this.

XOXO Your Favorite Ryder,

Phoenix.

***

Phoenix closed her Omni-tool with a sense of finality and a feeling of anxiety she wasn’t familiar with. A sense of doubt had wormed itself into the pit of her stomach and left a question nagging inside her, “What if she doesn’t come, what if she’s angry with me about the revolt and hates me for being exiled?”

“If all the rumors I’ve heard about the Human Pathfinder are true,” Reyes assured her, “Then she’s already on her way here to either kick your ass for joining the revolt or to hug you after being separated for over six hundred years.”

Phoenix hummed, “That’s true,” she immediately picked up on the mention of rumors he claimed to have heard and shifted so that she was facing him, “And what exactly have you heard about the Human Pathfinder?”

A chuckle left Reyes’ lips as his mouth formed a lazy smirk and he tightened his arm around her waist, bringing her that much closer to him, “Slight correction, The Charlatan has heard rumors about the Pathfinder, can’t share Collective secrets for free.”

Phoenix’s eyes stared at his lips as he spoke before meeting his eyes with a fire in her own, “Good thing Madam Kadara always compensates her informants.”

           Reyes caught a glimmer of sadness behind the fire in her eyes; she was trying to distract herself from everything she found out about her family and he knew it. He searched her eyes, wondering what part of finding out her family made it across dark space could sadden her.

           She smiled, “What is it?”

           He matched her smile and rested his forehead against her own, “I’m not going to be your distraction when I don’t know what’s bothering you.”

           Reyes felt her wrinkle her brow in mock confusion, “What are you talking about, you love distracting me.”

           He laughed, “That is true,” he kissed her before they separated, “Are you okay?”

           Phoenix knew he could see right through her, and she hated him for it sometimes, “Honestly, no, I’m nowhere near okay,” she clenched her jaw and did her best to not burst into tears as she searched his face for any sort of reaction. She hadn’t taken the time she needed to process the death of her father, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to but knew it was needed.

           He could see there was more she wasn’t saying but he didn’t want to press her for information she wasn’t ready to share.

           She met his eyes and it made her want to cry even more; he was always there to be the support she needed even when all she wanted was a distraction. Her hands began to light up blue as she got up from the couch, “My father is dead, Reyes, my father died and I wasn’t there to save him!”

           Reyes watched as Phoenix clenched and unclenched her fists, knowing that her biotics were always within the realm of her control. He wanted to offer her comfort but also knew she needed to work through it on her own.

           Phoenix punched the wall and left a decent size dent, letting her biotics help her release some of the anger that was beginning to build up, “He never made it off Habitat 7, my stubborn ass father put himself before the entire Ark and it ended up getting him killed!”

           She huffed as her fists stopped glowing blue, she ran her hands through her hair and started to pace to hide the tears that were starting to fall, “He was always so stubborn and, when it came down to it, he always put others before himself, I told him it was gonna be the death of him and I was right, he died saving the lives of thousands for a galaxy that has done nothing but blame him for helping put this whole shit show of an Initiative together!”

           Reyes caught her hand as she paced and gently pulled her into an embrace, “I’m sorry about your father, I never met him but I heard he was a great man.”

           Phoenix melted into his arms as she started to sob. Her father was gone, her brother was in a coma, and her sister is out saving an unforgiving galaxy to help make a home for everyone from the Milky Way.

Memories of her family started to run through her mind and her father’s words played on repeat: ‘Be a better soldier than I ever was.’ That’s all he would ever say whenever she made a mistake, it was his way of saying that she was better than whatever dumb decision she made and she always hated it but right now all she wanted was to hear him say it one more time.

           Nearly an hour passed before Phoenix began to reign her emotions back into control. She chuckled, “I’m sorry, I just lost it.”

           “You never need to apologize to me, I’ll always be your shoulder to cry on,” Reyes assured her.

           The sincerity in his voice made her smile, she looked into his eyes, “Reyes Vidal, you’re the best thing that has happened to me since I came to Andromeda.”

           He looked at her with his signature lopsided smile and it filled her with a warmth she would do anything to feel for the rest of her life.

[timetrickster]

Aloha Oe X Edith Nox Crossover Episode 11: Empath & The Frost Lilim

Uh this was a difficult one to write. But almost over! Hope ye enjoy it!

TAG: @cometworks @coloursintheblur @thelysstener

INT. SHADOW DIMENSION. 

MISTRAL had returned to NEYDOLYA’S lair, immediately giving her the water pouch. Her movements were frail and slow, as she drinks the holy water. The magical effects settle in, sending a light line force throughout her body. She reaches for air after her long forgotten taste of such holy water. 

NEYDOLYA

My strength… it’s returning… we must wait now. I will fully be restored soon… my long quench for the holy water has been so long. (She looks at Mistral) Leave us… all of you.

VODNIK, IMPERIUM, INGRAM leave the room, leaving MISTRAL alone. She stood serious as NEYDOLYA who despite is fragile, walks slowly toward her. 

NEYDOLYA (cont’d)

I watched from my throne, child. I have seen you cry and wail your aching human heart out for the Empath witch. Why?

MISTRAL

I… my… former self had resurfaced. Her human emotions were alive.

NEYDOLYA

My magic is creation itself! The impossibilities of humanity within your former self should’ve never happened!

MISTRAL

But your magic was slowly dying out, mistress. It may have been the reason why her humanity was never suspended.

NEYDOLYA

You’re right, my magic hadn’t been rejuvenated yet. I relied on simple deals to slowly build up my strength. Now… that I finally drank holy water from the temple’s pool… I maybe have the possibility of fixing you. (She smirks behind her hood covered in shadow) We shall talk later… my Frost Lilim.

She returns to her throne and MISTRAL dismisses herself.

CUT TO

INT. MED BAY. MORNING

JUSTIN was unconscious, shirtless, covered in tons of blankets and under a warm lamp. EDITH had watched standing by the doorway. ENOCH appears in a holographic body toward EDITH.

ENOCH

Ms. Nox, I notice your anxiety levels are through the roof. Are you okay?

EDITH

Just worried and shaken up.

ENOCH

I assure you, Justin will be fine. He handles extremely worse… 

EDITH

And you’re not worried?

ENOCH

Are you kidding me? I’m always worried when he’s in danger. Despite all the odds and numbers, I tell him that is against him. He manages to find a way out of any situation. (He looks at Justin) I love my dear Captain but I’m scared one day he’ll be in a situation that he can never get himself out of.

EDITH

I understand the feeling… (She smiles a little) Hey, I know you’re always on the ship. So I never really get to know about Justin meet?

ENOCH

Well… that’s a long story. (She chuckles to herself) A young boy on the planet Chronos had found me in an old scrap depot. He found me quite unique, despite being of a wealthy family. He considered me the most important droid ever.

EDITH

That’s so sweet. 

ENOCH

It was… I watched him grow up from 8 years old to 111. He refused to part with me despite being so obsolete. It wasn’t until then that same boy was exiled from his homeworld for apparent acts of treason. All he wanted to see was the stars… and so his punishment was to let him see them by himself. 

EDITH

He was banished?! Why didn’t he tell me that?!

ENOCH

Because that’s the way he is… carrying his own pain. Hiding it behind countless masks despite knowing that it’s eating him alive. 

EDITH

I know that they died… 

ENOCH

The Time Walkers��� yes. They’re all but extinct, except for him.

EDITH

Why doesn’t he go back? He can travel in time and friggin space and he chooses to stay away from his homeworld. Why?

ENOCH

I asked him that same question before and the answer will always be the same. “I can’t… I can’t face them.”

EDITH silently felt the pain behind these words.

ENOCH

But for you, Ms. Nox… what pain lies within you? 

EDITH

A broken heart.

ENOCH

Yes… I’m aware of last night’s events. I’m so sorry.

EDITH

Thank you for your concern… (She holds both hands together and toward her face. Tears dance upon her bottom eyelids) How could she do that for me? She didn’t have to do any of this. I mean… what she did was so noble and brave because that’s who she is but for me?! I would’ve sacrificed myself if it meant saving her from becoming Mistral.

ENOCH’S robotic body develops itself and comforts EDITH. Simply sitting next to her and placing a hand on her shoulder. 

ENOCH

Justin once told Violet before setting up your first date. “Love suffers long and is kind.” Love is an interesting emotion… but your love for Ms. Choi can outstand even the darkest and powerful of magic. As I’m told in most fairy tales… True Love is the most powerful magic there is.

The small notion of the fairy tale makes EDITH gives her something to smile about. 

ENOCH

Self-sacrifice shouldn’t be taken in vain. Her act was noble, yes but for you, the woman who helped her through her struggle. She would’ve done anything. We will find her and bring her home to you.

EDITH leans her head on ENOCH’S shoulder.

EDITH

Thank you.

She looks at JUSTIN, standing then walking toward him. She sits down on a chair next to him and hugs him. Placing her head on his chest, she smiles and closes her eyes.

EDITH (cont’d)

Thank you, for everything that you’ve done for me. (She lets go) Enoch? 

ENOCH

Yes, Ms. Nox?  

EDITH

Help gather scriptures about the Fates. We’re gonna help, Violet. Does Justin have any backup clothes? I want to be Time Walker for a day!

ENOCH

Follow me to the closet.

CUT TO:

INT. THE CLOSEST

EDITH dresses up in JUSTIN’S clothes, a cool coat that flaps in the wind. A shirt with a pop culture reference or a popular show from Earth. Jeans and cool and comfortable shoes to go with it. DON’T FORGET THE SHADES, SHADES ARE A KEY PART OF THE TIME TRAVELER LOOK!

EDITH looks upon her new outfit is so much glee.

EDITH

I LOVE IT! I love this coat! Makes me feel like a superhero! I love this shirt! WHO IS THIS?!

ENOCH

She is a character from a comic book movie known as Guardians Of The Galaxy Vol. 2. Her name is Mantis, an alien girl with the powers of empathy.

EDITH became star eyed excited.

EDITH

I LOVE HER ALREADY! Now, let’s go find scriptures!

MONTAGE TIME:

EDITH & ENOCH run throughout the known libraries carrying books upon books to learn about the Fates. The two return to the ship doing an endless reading. 

CUT TO:

INT. JUSTIN’S PRIVATE QUARTERS. MORNING

It was the next day, the morning sun had risen. EDITH had fallen asleep while ENOCH had downloaded the scriptures into her databanks. EDITH wakes up stretching her arms and yawning. 

ENOCH

Morning Ms. Nox, it is a lovely morning. Your mother Umi is currently out of town. Your mother Robyn is currently in the garden. Also, I scanned each scripture I managed to download into my databanks. Also, I managed to find context clues in the scriptures as well as provided information from you.

She rises up ready to hear the new information. 

ENOCH (cont’d)

Your magic was strong enough for Cat to be purified from her Black Beast form. Despite the pollution of her magic, you saved Cat. Then it is very possible you can save her as well.

EDITH

Oh, my Fates… 

ENOCH

There is also a legend of a man, the Fates had cursed. For being unable to see the beauty in women. A Black Beast in a sense of his own design… until a woman whom he met, despite being fearful of his appearance. He fell in love with, and she too with him thus breaking the curse and learning his lesson. 

EDITH

It worked?! Really?! What magic did she use? 

ENOCH

She didn’t have to use magic. A simple kiss was all.

EDITH

True Love’s Kiss… (She was shocked) 

ENOCH

Exactly. You can save her. 

EDITH

I can save her? I CAN SAVE HER! (She jumps with glee)

She hugs ENOCH as both celebrate the news that they can save her. 

CUT TO

EXT. THE REALM OF THE FATES.

OWL, CAT, & FOX watch over JUSTIN, who still was very much unconscious. They converse about the Time Walker.

CAT

The Otherworlder… an interesting being he is. 

OWL

Walker of Time. Heroic boy. A good heart. A good person he is.

FOX

He is as he is held in high regard.

FLASHBACK:

JUSTIN standing before the shadow figures of the masked animal gods. Fearless and unafraid.

JUSTIN

Let’s make a deal… 

CAT

What deal shall be made?

JUSTIN

Violet Choi. 

FOX

What about the Princess?

JUSTIN

She made a deal with your former sister.

OWL

The deal, she made? What exactly is it?

JUSTIN

Serve her and she lets Edith go without any harm.

CAT sneers a little, having concern over EDITH.

CAT

What deal would you need making?

JUSTIN

Help me, save Violet.

FOX

We cannot.

JUSTIN

WHY?!

OWL

Our former sister, cursed and wretched. Her magic…  polluted and negative. Nothing can be helped by us.

JUSTIN

YOU ARE CELESTIAL BEINGS FOR GOD’S SAKE! You can’t defeat your own sister?!

CAT

Our place in this universe and in this world is to create life. Guide them through their lives. Take their strings and recreate. That is our purpose.

JUSTIN

And defending it isn’t?!

OWL

Watchers we are. Observe and answer. Two different wants. One can only exist.

JUSTIN hold his index finger and thumb on the temples of his head. 

FOX

There is a deal we can make.

JUSTIN

Which is?

CAT

Your being here is for the sole purpose is to stop our former sister. 

JUSTIN

Yes. What else?

FOX

Our deal shall be one you cannot be taken lightly.

OWL

Healing the Princess is out of reach. Corruption of us shall be a danger to this world. You and others can bring her heart back. Even one she loves.

JUSTIN

(He whispers to himself) Edith… 

CAT

Your presence here disrupts the flow of our purpose of creation. The only deal is that we will give you the power to destroy our former sister. In an exchange that you leave the universe, along with the traces and memory of you erased from their minds. Are you prepared to agree to this accord?

JUSTIN was in shock… 

JUSTIN

How dare you?! I’m no killer, and I certainly won’t accept a deal where I lose my friends!

FOX

(Fiery rage stood behind their voice) Your presence here brought out secrets even humanity should never know. The existence of Neydolya. The knowledge of parallel universes. This knowledge was preserved for millennia. Now that Witch knows it along with the Princess and the Necromancer! Your actions being here brought forth a foreign criminal. The resurfacing of our former sister, the revival of an evil Necromancer. Now the creation of what you called a Frost Lilim! Despite the claims of being the hero, you create the villains to oppose you!

The entirety of the statement angers JUSTIN, giving him this snarling look. The corner of one eye pinched and nose scrunched. The bottom row of his teeth stuck out as if fangs grew. 

CAT

I apologize for Fox, the temper on them is too much. We can move in this one way, do we have a deal?

JUSTIN reluctant at first, he still held a scowl. CAT reaching her shadow covered arm and waving it across JUSTIN. Suddenly a sensation of burning JUSTIN felt on his right arm. The symbol of the Fates had printed itself on his arm. A triangle layered within two more triangles and a circle in certain places. 

CAT (cont’d)

The deal is done.

She snaps her fingers and JUSTIN is returned to the temple.

END OF FLASHBACK

OWL

Awaken him, restore him?

FOX

Let him heal on his own. He’s an otherworlder.

CAT

He can’t keep his end of the bargain if he is unconscious.

FOX

Fine.

CAT snaps their finger and the tattoo of the symbol glows. JUSTIN wakes up rising fast. The blankets fall off of him and he gets out of bed. Slowly trying to regain his strength he holds the walls of the ship. Guiding himself, back to the bridge. EDITH & ENOCH noticing him outside his quarters, get to him.

EDITH

JUSTIN! (She carries him in her lap as he had fallen to the ground)

JUSTIN

Hey… how long was I out?

EDITH

It’s been a couple of days. But are you okay?!

JUSTIN

Course I am silly?! Hey Enoch.

ENOCH despite being robotic in nature, felt worried and sadness which EDITH had sensed it within her. She hugs him, to which he groans a little. 

JUSTIN (cont’d)

Ow… I missed you too Enoch! (He wraps his arms around both of Enoch and Edith)

EDITH

JUSTIN! I found the cure for Violet! 

JUSTIN

(He smiles) True Love’s kiss?

EDITH

Absolutely… let’s save Violet!

The feeling of achievement and success was felt throughout the room. The friends now have the magical cure to help VIOLET break free of her deal with NEYDOLYA. 

Meanwhile… 

CUT TO:

INT. NEYDOLYA’S LAIR. 

NEYDOLYA on her throne she is restored, ridding herself of her cloak. Revealing a younger woman, she dark black hair, fallen upon the ground. With her magic of creation, a white dress appeared on her body, as well as a headband grasper her head with tassels of moon amulets attached to it.  

NEYDOLYA

I AM RESTORED!

She glees over the fact of her returned power. Her minions look on as their employer is now a goddess once more. 

NEYDOLYA

Vodnik!

VODNIK

Yes mistress?

NEYDOLYA

Bring me the ingredients! Ingram create the circle!

VODNIK runs off then returns with the glass dome contain the Black Beast remnants. INGRAM waves his hands in a unique way and creates a Necromancer Circle. VODNIK places the dome in the middle. 

NEYDOLYA

The Empath Quartz, The Souls Of the Dead, The Essence Of Ice and Energy Of Another Universe!

VODNIK places the empath quartz in the dome. INGRAM activates the magic circle summoning the wailing of the long dead. The souls activates the empath quartz and starts to shake the glass dome. MISTRAL draws her magic of ice and blasting the dome. IMPERIUM does the same infusing this insane concoction of creation. 

The remnants of the Black Beast take in the infusion of magic and alien power. With NEYDOLYA’S magic, she formed this new Black Beast. Staring at the shadow of her creation, she looked at it with such happiness. Her horrid creation to destroy her sisters.

NEYDOLYA

You are beautiful!

CUT TO:

INT. EDITH’S LIVING ROOM. NIGHT

Both JUSTIN & EDITH meditating. 

JUSTIN

Just relax… breathe in and out. 

EDITH

This is pretty relaxing. 

JUSTIN

If you unlock your chakras you might be able to do aura manipulation.

EDITH 

Whenever you come back to visit! Teach me how to do that! Please!

The statement makes JUSTIN remember his deal of the Fates. Hearing CAT’S voice repeating the exact deal.

CAT (V.O)

The only deal is that we will give you the power to destroy our former sister. In an exchange that you leave the universe, along with the traces and memory of you erased from their minds. Are you prepared to agree to this accord?

JUSTIN broods for the moment thinking about the accord.

EDITH

Justin?

JUSTIN

Yeah, of course! I can and will teach you aura manipulation! (He switches to a smile when he turned toward Edit)

EDITH takes notices the tip of the symbol of the Fates on JUSTIN’S arm. But she doesn’t say a word. 

EDITH

Awesome! Imma get to do cool shiz with aura manipulation!

NOEMI shows up, with ARGENTO & PERIWINKLE.

NOEMI

Hey guys, we came as soon as we called.

EDITH & JUSTIN

Hey!

NOEMI

What happened?!

EDITH

I found the cure for Violet! We’re gonna bring her home!

NOEMI unable to find words he is filled with joy. He hugs EDITH immediately. 

NOEMI

I’m so happy for you! Also I love this outfit!

EDITH

Thank you! Enoch let me go through Justin’s clothes. I’m a certified Time Traveler.

Everyone in the room laughs. When suddenly, EDITH screams as a headache of major pain causes her to hold her head. NOEMI catches slowly bringing her down. Whilst everyone stood with worry.

NOEMI

What’s wrong?!

EDITH 

Pain! So much pain! Screaming! So many souls! SCREAMING! (She holds her head falling to the ground)

She holds both ears and head. Her magic had sensed the creation of the new Black Beast. Having to hear the souls summoned and the Empath Quartz amplified the emotions of the long dead souls. JUSTIN places the Mind Crown on EDITH’S forehead. Which eases the pain of the screams.

Slowly getting up with the help of NOEMI. 

EDITH

What happened?

NOEMI

I don’t know. 

A roar of an enormous monster is heard from the far distance. Causing all of them to go outside. In the distance, there was the new Black Beast.

CUT TO

EXT. UNKNOWN LOCATION.NIGHT

NEYDOLYA had teleported herself and her minions to an unknown location. The shape of the new Black Beast grows enormous heights. The new Black Beast was a giant winged wolf like dogs. 

NEYDOLYA

Magick’s greatest caster. Nature’s greatest disaster. Of magic’s essence. Of alien’s iridescence. Monster of elements. Beast of fragments. Emotions, Ice, Death. Deceptions, Vice, Breath. Wings of night, Owl’s blight. Body of shadow, Fox’s meadows. Claws of violence, Cat’s eloquence. The Lost Fate knotts your string. Evil shall rise and destruction you will bring!

The new Black Beast howls as it grows and forms. 

NEYDOLYA (cont’d)

I think I shall call you Simargl.

NEYDOLYA having leftovers of the remnants of the Black Beast. She creates an army of monstrous Black Beasts. Mimicking CAT’S form, human-like shadows wearing the mask of a cat. Carrying blades and ready to strike. She also infuses her Generals with a piece of the Black Beast giving them an increase of strength as well as more monstrous. 

VODNIK becomes a well built and more humanoid, crimson red toad-like monster. His fangs grew sharper along with his clothes. He was granted armor, covering shoulder to toes. Some parts of his armor was bedazzled with colored stones. He wielded a double headed hammer as his weapon. 

IMPERIUM absorbing the energy of the remnants, caused his ethereal body into a built body. Granted armor on his arms, legs, chest. He is given a helmet, which makes him all the more intimidating. His weapon is a staff with two prongs.

INGRAM returned to his human form, his eyes still shining that wicked light green. His armor was light as his long cloak and hood with formal clothes was the under armour. He has shoulder armor and gauntlets resembling human-like skulls with horns. Along with armored shoes attached his pants. His weapon was a scythe.

MISTRAL her crystalline body became human and impossibly pale blue. Her armor became made of ice created a crown that looked as if she grew horns. Her clothing was the same looking as if she was ready for the winter. She wielded two swords made of her magic. 

A small piece of the Empath Quartz was left to which grabbed NEYDOLYA created a new general to join the ranks.

NEYDOLYA

Solitaire… an interesting name for you my new creation.

SOLITAIRE was a crystal being, created with perfection to look like EDITH. The Black Beast remnants, created an armor to full cloth her. Giving her headdress, which her body reacted to creating two more faces. One facing tragedy and another flamed with fury. Her weapon a double bladed sword made of her being.

NEYDOLYA’S army was ready, she had her Five Malevolents. Her magnificent beast and an army of Shadows at her beckon call. So much power, so much potential of destruction. She looks over the town she is about to conquer, having the Castle in her sights. She smiles with malicious intent.

NEYDOLYA

It has begun.

FADE TO BLACK

END OF EPISODE 11

[another-sonic-blog]

Is it okay if you make a ShadAmy fanfic with Amy pregnant with Shadow's child and thinking on a name for their kid while she's outside?

               Their relationship was strange. It was one of those that just happened. Shadow doesn’t even remember asking her to be his girlfriend. Maybe one of this days. he will make it ‘official’.

   Now Amy is pregnant with his child and Shadow still couldn’t process the whole idea. He was taking a run to nowhere, he didn’t have a destination, he was just running for the pleasure of it. Amy was five months pregnant and naturally he wouldn’t leave her alone but knowing that right now she is at her rabbit friend’s house and that Amy likes her independence, he left to have some time alone by himself as well.

   Shadow then made a sudden stop, he recognized this place too well.  It was strange that unconsciously, his legs will take him to this place between all of them.  Shadow sat down under the same sakura tree Amy sat when he first talked to her.

   Or more like when she first talked to him.

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“Will you stop looking me, Shadow?”

   It has been a while since the 15-year-old Amy Rose noticed that Shadow was looking at her, ‘hidden’ between the massive amounts of trees surrounding them. He will always hide in a different tree but Amy could already tell since the first day that he was looking at her.

“If you need to tell me something, just come and say it”

   Amy was having a bad day and today she only wanted to keep reading her book in peace without feeling Shadow’s eyes on her. She noticed Shadow coming out of the darkness and in incorporating himself into her own light.

“That book that you are reading…Maria would read me that book too”

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“Sakura, that could be a good name for her”

   Shadow remember coming here to see Amy. Shadow didn’t know how to read nor write, so Amy volunteer to teach him and read him every-time they will meet under the sakura tree. Two years passed just like that, Shadow very much enjoyed that time in were they could just relax and talk until the clear sky turns dark and they had to part ways.

   Shadow felt nostalgic and after a few minutes, he began to run once again.

   Now Shadow had found himself in a cliff.It wasn’t like any other cliff, it was right there where Shadow had first kissed Amy.

   Well more like, she kissed him.

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   Shadow felt Amy’s lip touch his. It was quick and Shadow couldn’t really understand the meaning behind her gesture. He just noticed Amy’s red face, he saw she had an expression of regret and Shadow just didn’t know how to make her feel better.

“I am sorry”, Amy looked down to the ground as Shadow took a moment to appreciate her beauty under the moonlight even if she was just 17, her beauty could compare to the ocean’s as the moonlight reflected on the waves.

“You don’t have to be sorry, its fine”

“…May…May I do it again?”

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“Umi…that’s a good one too”

    If he remembers correctly, that was around three years ago. Back then Shadow wasn’t sure about his feelings for Amy. He knew for a fact that he cares for her deeply and he didn’t want to make her feel sad by rejecting her. He still didn’t comprehend the whole concept of ‘love’. The only thing he knew about it was the things he will read in books. It seemed like ‘love’ was something that could cause happiness. Like how they mentioned it in the books, they made it seem like a complicated phase. However, deep-down, Shadow always wanted to love someone passionately and without restrictions. Ever since meeting Amy, he wanted to try new things and experience different emotions. He thought that she could be the perfect one to live a life full of romance.

But that wasn’t the case.

   Shadow took one more look at the ocean and took off again. Now this time, he was heading towards the woods. To a place, he knew very well. It was curiosity that took him there to see if the place he used to call ‘home’ was still standing. As he got close to it, he noticed how the wood of his house was about to fall down. He slowly entered and noticed so many clouds of dust and contained himself from cleaning around. He mentally decided to comeback here and clean this place since it holded many dear memories to him. He looked around the kitchen, the small living room and finally his bedroom. Now he was wondering how did he even sleep in there. At this point in his life, Shadow knew it was impossible to sleep if he didn’t feel Amy next to him. Another memory crossed his mind as he sat down on the old rusty bed.

The first time he made her his. Or more like how she made him hers.

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   After two years of dating, a 19-year-old Amy was determined to give her virginity to 20-year-old Shadow. They had talked about it before and decided that tonight will be the night they will give their everything to each other. It was strange for both of them.  Shadow had never asked Amy if she wanted to be his girlfriend and even after everything they had gone through that was still slowly going through Amy’s head. However, that didn’t stop her from giving herself to the hedgehog she loved. Shadow remembers looking at the full moon and then at Amy on his bed. Thinking how the moon would be the one to witness their love.

   It was painful and Shadow would never forget the tears. At this point, the last thing Shadow wanted to do was to hurt her. He remembers stopping the moment his intimacy was inside of hers. He remembers apologizing once and once again as Amy will tell him that it was natural to feel pain. Shadow never understood that concept, why does loving someone have to be painful?  He hoped to find his answers soon as he was still learning how to love.

When they finished, they were both exhausted. Amy was in the blink of sleep, he still remembers the last thing she said to him before going to sleep…

“I love you”

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   “Tsuki…that could suit her”

Shadow never got to say ‘I love you’ back to her. Even now as they were about to have a daughter, Shadow had never said that three-word sentence. Their relationship was a weird one and the exact opposite from what Shadow thought it will be like.

   As he noticed that it was getting late, Shadow decided to go back to his home with Amy. The sky was orange and purple and it made a beautiful sight, as he got to his new home, he made a quick stop right in front of it. He took a moment to appreciate it, the comfortable pink home of Amy which now she shares with him and their soon to be their child. This house had seen many good moments, and also very bad ones…

Like the time he broke her heart, and how she broke his…

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“There’s nothing you can say to stop me…I have to go”, Shadow was ready to leave, wearing his G.U.N. jacket, as he got closer to his motorcycle.

“Shadow, last time you went with them you were in the hospital for two months! It pains me to see you like that…I just can’t handle it!”, Amy had tears in her eyes. Shadow didn’t dare to see her face because he knew he would also break the moment he sees her.

“I am sorry, but there’s people out there who need me…I made a promise long ago and I want to keep it”, Shadow got on top of his motorcycle, turned it on and finally took one last look at Amy.

“If you leave now…we are over”

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   Shadow didn’t come back from his G.U.N. mission after a year. He didn’t think it would take him that long. He remembers that year being the hardest year he is been through. Being the ultimate life form, he didn’t need sleep, but he sure enjoyed it. The year that Amy wasn’t with him was painful, he had many doubts and new found feelings.  He used to wonder if, without him, Amy had found someone else to sleep with at nights, if she had moved on, or if she had completely forgotten about him. Back then, Shadow regretted taking his moments with Amy for granted. He also remembers how grateful he was when he came back and found out that Amy had waited for him. He remembers exactly that feeling when he saw her standing in front of her door as he came to see her. He remembers kissing her passionately the moment he saw her cry for him. And just this feeling… this strong feeling that had overtaken him. ‘Love’…and at this point, Shadow knew why sometimes it was painful to love someone. That was around a year ago and since then, Shadow couldn’t stop feeling this great sense of peace within him.

“Peace…that’s nice too”

   Shadow entered his home and was glad to find the aroma of Amy in the house. She quickly showed up and greeted him with a smile. Shadow kissed her forehead as he kneeled to look at her tummy which had already increased in size.

“Hey, little one…I love you”

   Shadow wanted to make it clear that his words were not only meant to be for his baby but to Amy as well. He looked at her in the eyes and Amy had the most beautiful expression and that’s all that Shadow ever wanted to see. She understood his message, and although their relationship wasn’t like the ones in books, nor the one she was hoping for, she was sure that Shadow was the one meant for her.

“You know Amy, I was thinking about names for our baby”, Shadow said as he stood up and held his ‘wife’s hands. They weren’t actually married, nor they could be since they both didn’t have the necessary documents. However, as Shadow didn’t feel a ring on her hand, he made a note to himself to buy her one for their next anniversary.

“Oh, I thought that was already decided”

“What?”

“Yes, I am naming our daughter Maria”

   And now, this was the moment she made him feel happiness…..

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A/n: Sorry for the long wait and I hope this is somewhat what you wanted to read~ I had never wrote something like this before so writing this brought me a lot of pleasure! Thank you for this good prompt~

Also if anyone has requests for me to write, just message me 💕

[icefir-windbreaker]

All-Stars -Story Mode- [CHAPTER 8]

Sorry that I wasn’t able to get online, the internet in my room is acting up and refuse to let back on until it’s back, I don't know when the internet gonna be fix but I hope that it’s soon. Now, with he story and this chapter is based off what had happened back in August 31th, 2018 and I hope you guys like it.

                                                       -Chapter 8-

‘’Hello….?’’ Mugman said as he looked around the area, the area he’s in wasn’t familiar but he found himself there when he woke up. He was walking through a field with green grass with the tallest ones scattered across the mellow around him and all he could see up ahead with bright white fog and it appeared to be day time at the moment.

Then he noticed

A young lady is at the tree, she was standing at first then she fell to her knees and the next thing she knew: she was crying her eyes out with nothing but tears as she used her bare hands to tear the grass from the ground like fragile threads ripping apart.

‘’Why…?’’ she softly perked up… ‘’Why can’t I be like them…?’’

He looked further to what he is seeing; a young lady in her late teens, wearing a purple cap, army green t-shirt and blackish tie-up pants with white socks and black shoes. He noticed that she is even wearing a key necklace but what stun him as strange that… the key necklace she’s wearing is heart-shaped one with changed colors.

Crying Alone… (Made on 8/31/18)

Mugman continued to look at her, she crying, picking the grass out and muttering things to herself, like ‘’We need to go, go? Go where? Anywhere! He hates me now! I was just trying to stop them but he thought I LIED!! He thought I was encouraging them to hurt her! I was just trying to help b-but I don’t want to get hurt! I wished I was normal…. I wish I was normal… I just want to be loved…’’ and much like that. She then sat against the brunk of the tree and continued crying as she said ‘’I can tell they both hate me now…. It’s my fault! It’s my fault…’’ under her breath.

Mugman was beginning to feel sorry for her, what did she do? And what ‘he’ made her feel like that way? He walked closer to her to see more clearly on her appearance: she is human like Frisk but she is in her late teens and early 20’s and had white skin with freckles all over her.

He walked over to her as he decided that he talk to her to see what is up, he calmly yet gently asked ‘’What happened?’’, getting the young woman’s attention as she looked at him and looked shocked  to see him but still crying, she turned away from him as she lamented ‘’I-it’s nothing… just go away and leave me alone…’’

‘’No, it’s something to me.’’ Mugman insisted, walking over before sitting down beside her as he looked politely at her like he was her only friend. ‘’Mind telling me what happened to you and w-why you’re crying? I-I would understand…’’

‘’W-well…’’ she sobbed, ‘’I… What happened was… I-I came home from school, it’s Friday and it was an outing so I had a good time there. I-I am a-also autisic… But t-that’s what I’m sad about… I came into the house and the two dogs came to me, signaling that they both wanted to go outside to t-take a poop as usual but I didn’t expect that it was sudden change today. I was about to call t-them in after they had done their business when they sniffed something that I later realized was one o-of my pet cats, Umi.

Both of t-them starting to attack a-and chasing her across the backyard, she had t-tried to climb on something but one of them got her by the tail and carried her by the torso but she did managed to escaped from them and… she was holding them as bay while she hissed at them, poofing her fur up while both dogs, a pit-lamb and husky barked back at her. I had no idea what I should do! I was s-scared and I wanted them both to stop b-by saying ‘’Duke! Rag! Please stop this right now! ‘’ is what I think I said before m-my stepfather, Mike came up from behind me.

I barely know that he is quick to anger, when I tried to explained what had happened, he snapped at me!  He e-even swore at me and them to stop attacking Umi. I tried to tell him b-but he said it was bullcrap! I was in disbelief, I was so betrayed that he would say that as he carried the cat in his arms when he last yelled at me ‘’BULL-MOTHER...FREAKING-CRAP!!!!!’’ before heading inside with her.

I was shocked, I was frozen in fear and feeling so m-much e-emotions crashing t-together-r that I can’t control, like you were in a t-twister a-amd you had fallen out o-of the other end of the tornado a-and… and… I-I broke….

I was suddenly crying before running towards one of the wired gates that kept the dogs in, I-I g-got it opened and I-I just RAN!!! I was running, running from the home I once called… and n-never l-looked back… NEVER EVER once l-looked back, w-well accept a I did l-looked back a few times…

A-and that l-lead me here… f-from I can tell that M-Mike had told t-this to m-my mom already… N-Now t-they going t-to hate me and I had to r-run away m-more!!’’’ she bellowed out before she continued crying more, Mugman was so shocked and scared by hearing this, he placed his hand on her shoulder, ‘’H-hey… it’s a-alright…’’ he consoled, she mumbled ‘’N-no, it’s not…! They were right! Words would hurt you b-but n-nothing can’t hurt you m-more than people y-you know would just suddenly abandoned you and left you w-with nothing... I-it’s just…’’ she looked up at the fogged up sky before sighing ‘’T-the best w-way to survive r-really i-is alone… S-so that I-I can’t g-get hurt no more…’’ then looking down at the ground.

Mugman rubbed her back as he understood what was going on here with her; she didn’t know how to stop the situation before someone she know cussed her out on it. Mugman looked down and said ‘’I had a family too, both my brother a-and Elder Kettle, t-they never once a-abandoned me f-for that… they were always there f-for me n-no matter what.’’ then she looked at him, with a glare and rebuked ‘’And why IS THAT?’’

‘’I-is because they loved me, if you mom would leave him, it w-will be good riddance!’’

‘’S-she can’t leave him, we need him there for money and keeping the roof o-over our heads…and…she loved him...’’ she squeaked, Mugman looked at her with a question he had in his head, ‘’D-does your mother t-think you were just… different that made you s-stepfather hate you?’’

‘’N-no… she loved me for who and what I am, I was her only daughter…and me and Mike had gotten a-along with but never spoke to e-each often...’’ she answered softly as she lowered her head, Mugman then smiled ‘’Then I think she will be looking for you after g-getting her worried r-right now… F-from what I can detail from is that M-Mike was s-scared that you and your family would lose Umi. Does that make sense?’’

‘’Y-yeah I… I guess so.’’ she sighed as she rubbed her eyes with her arm before sobbing once again ‘’B-but why are y-you doing this? Why would you comfort me in a very bad time…? W-why would… Why would you have an a-autistic-freak for a friend???’’ before Mugman placed his hand on her shoulder again, with a decision appearing once again.

>[Comfort]                                                                                      [Do not]

                                                  >[Comfort]<

Mugman gave her a hug as he wrapped her arms around her, confused at first but then she accepted it as she cried softly.

‘’D-does m-mom still love me…?’’’ she mumbled through her tears, Mugman then soothed her ‘’I think it’s up to you… I-I am M-Mugman anyway, b-but my brother and friends just call me ‘’Mugs’’ from where I’m from.’’

‘’M-Mugman huh? T-that’s a cool name, m y    n     a      m        e         i          s       .      .         .            .           .        .  ‘’

*Then Mugman woke up in a cell with you. *You are glad that Mugs woke up but he is *confused to where they and… *Where’s Boris? *And Cuphead??

(Background is Jail Digital Art - Sunshine Shining In Prison Cell Window by Allan Swart)

‘’Frisk…?’’ Mugman gasped in a dazed as he looked around, then back to Frisk that looked at him with relief yet fear. ‘’W-what happened? Where’s Boris? What happened to Cuphead? Where are we?’’ Mugs babbled to them.

*You stuttered and blurted out as you had waste no time *to recount what had happened when both *him and Cuphead were knocked out like a light. *Both you and Boris were injured in the aftermath of *The explosion, then you noticed the woman with glasses *had appear with a double-barreled pistol but had *saved Cuphead and then disappeared before the

*Helghast Soldiers had appeared and captured them. *Then you had been forced to watched helplessly *as they take Boris had been taken to a new location *unknown to you and worried what they will do to him.

*You were scared right now, yet, *You are glad that Mugman is alright. *But then concluded that they will meet Radec in a moment.

‘’W-what….?’’ Mugs stuttered as Frisk nodded their head in sorrow, Mugs was relieved to hear his brother had escaped thanks to a lady with glasses but is scared for Boris’ life, what they going to do with him?

Mugman pulled his legs to his chest as he hissed in pain as his body is aching from the hit from the explosion, then looking at Frisk with fear as he mumbled ‘’How are we going to get out of here…?’’

*You only shook your head but you are willing to *Get them out there, one way or another. *It makes you fill with hope… *Oh, and DETERMINATION.

Then they heard footsteps, three men coming from Mugman’s side of the cell, making both of look at the iron bars and a Helghast soldier appeared from the side and looked at them then with another soldier along with…. You knew it, Mael Radec.

He looked at the two injured kids as he had the ominous orange rens removed, revealing his true eyes, his hazel eyes looked like he haven’t slept as if he is ill awhile Frisk looked at him in awe as they are trapped by a thought; Was this what war can do to you?

Radec looked over the two before he commanding ‘’Release them.’’

*I guess it’s time already.

Two soldiers didn’t hesitate to unlocking the cell door and getting them in their arms as they struggled a bit before letting them carry them somewhere as they looked around the area they are in. They had took notice that the Helghast soldiers are guarding the gates as some of them are walking in a building, they must have set up camp in a shipping train yard next to a police station.

They looked at a group of soldiers as they examined strange (Wonder) weapons they had found with a strange box, they had no idea who or what had created it but it had provided them weapons both familiar and unfamiliar to them as some of them are practicing fighting on dummies till they reached to a building winch where other soldiers are also guarding it.

The soldiers noticed Radec then stepped out of the way for them enter the building as Frisk and Mugman looked inside of the warehouse, they had looked on the soldiers working on a strange jetpack and few of them tried it and it was a successful test as some of them applaud to this.

*You noticed the jetbacks and they are wearing them like backpacks, *Then looked at the blueprints on those… *From judging the Helghan language you can hardy able to tell *what those are, you are able make out that they are *StA-X6 Jetpacks.

‘’We are almost there.’’ The Colonel maintained while he turned his head back to look at them who they immediately looked right back at him, afraid what he will do if he caught them looking at his men while they were working on the jetbacks.

Radec then turned away from them as they headed for office the warehouse and opened the door then steps aside for his two soldiers to enter and placed the human and Mugs on two chairs then walking out of the office as Radec nodded, bidding them to stand guard outside.

He then walked over to his desk as Frisk and Mugman watched, he pulled out his chair then sits down as he looked at them.

The Human and Mugman looked back at him as he cleared his throat and said ‘’How did you managed to evade us?’’

They were taken aback by this question, making Mugman asked ‘’W-what is that?’’

‘’I know you were in the bushes when one of my men were talking yet you were silent, knew that we will find you yet. This is something that soldiers would do.’’ he explained. Frisk raised their hand and then got up.

*You had said that they were just scared. *And reason behind that wasn’t him but the living dead.

‘’I see.’’ Radec said as he placed his hand on the desk, ‘’Even with human children, they had feared everything. But there’s one thing that I had to question; how did you managed to survive the attack?’’ he insisted, looking at Frisk.

Frisk looked down at the floor then remembered what had happened…

-Flashback-

(Background is from PlayStation Wiki - Fandom)

                                                  GAME OVER

Aw bloody hell, this now? Frisk! You can do better than that! I’m telling you this! You can’t give up just yet! Just stay DETERMINED!

Now get your determined butt back out there!

Frisk looked around for the British voice and where it had came from, then he noticed the one thing that is familiar yet something that unfamiliar at the same time: The SAVE point.

It looked like it had improved for quite some time, it had a white 5-point star in the center of it and it’s usual color had cyan and light blue coloring this time. Then they looked at themself; their body is transparent but the only colors they had are purple stripes and a red heart locket that had glowed like they were neon lights. They then noticed the red X’s on their chest, arm and cheek, they realized those were meant to be injures that had been inflicted on.

Then they realized two choices are placed on each side of the screen;

                                 >Yes                                Give Up

The words ‘’Yes’’ and ‘’Give Up’’ are distant from each other, they knew they are dead after being killed, they looked around the world around them, nothing but blue mystery all around them and waves flowing through the area like an calm blue sea.

They need to choose.

                                 Yes                                >Give Up                                >Yes                                  Give Up                                  Yes                                >Give Up

It seems like forever til the arrow suddenly begins to go upward towards the word:

                                                >Continue?

                                    Yes                                Give Up

Frisk looked at the the third option and wondered why would it deguise as an only a word, was it a glitch or something else…?

Frisk took time to look at it for a moment before pressing the button ‘’CONTINUE’’ that cause everything around them to go white as the waves are flying upwards in the wind.

It’s going t-to be okay…

A female voice called out softly in a whisper…

Frisk then found them self raising from the dirt and back into the world of the living, they then looked around their body then see all wounds are gone, well all but one on their arm, making them hold it in pain as they looked around then saw Mugman and Boris being taken by the same soldiers that had been chasing them, they were going to run after them but they were caught in the arms of the Helghast soldier behind them, they struggled to break free but it was no use, that soldier is bigger, stronger and much older than them.

‘’Get them back to base! Send the wolf to another location!’’ the Colonel's voice barked through the radio, Frisk couldn’t been more afraid then they saw Nikolai and Heavy running towards them as the jetbacks they had are beginning to take off.

‘’You let them go!!’’ Heavy bellowed out as the soldier levitate a little with their feet tangling in the air before taking off into the sky, the two Russians were too late to rescue as Nikolai yelled in frustration as Frisk watched as they them getting smaller and smaller as they go up further into the clouds til they can’t see them any longer.

-End of flashback…-

Frisk had continued to look down at the ground til Radec’s voice called out ‘’Are you listening to me child?’’ making them face Radec once more, Radec looked down on the child as he spoke once again ‘’You haven’t answered the question yet.’’

[It was a RESET that saved me.]                                      >[I just don’t know…]

                                               >[I just don’t know…]<

Radec looked at the Human for a minute, as if he knew they were lying before saying ‘’If that were the truth, I expect more than just a lie from you.’’

‘’W-wait! You got it wrong!’’ Mugman interjected as he raised his hand up, ‘’I-I think they were just lucky to survive that.’’ he spoke up some more.

Radec looked at the two children for another minute before saying ‘’I know you two are children but as for the human, I will find out how they survive with or without help. In fact, it’s not now the time to do that, time to head back to your cell.’’

Before Mugman and Frisk knew it, his two guards came in and grabbed them as they were pulled from their seats then they are heading back to the police station.

*Why is he doing this? *Why are they doing this?

Frisk felt like it’s Monsters-on-war-with-Humans again as they reached their cell, then been pushed into it as they closed and locked the door, leaving them trapped once more as they walked away.

And the two watched them walked and left, Mugman then turned towards Frisk and said ‘’You are that lucky to survive that, Frisk?’’

Frisk nodded, but they know that Mugman deserves an explanation of this Reset they did as they paced back and forth, trying to think of a way to get out of that cell and fast. Mugman watched them do that as he crossed his arms.

‘’How are we going to get out of here, Frisk?’’ He asked before holding the iron bars then he noticed someone beside them are also holding the bars of their cell. Mugman, letting his curiosity get the better of him, he called out on the person ‘’H-Hello?’’

Then soon, a man’s voice answered with a rough toned his voice ‘’Hello.’’

‘’I-I thought that we were the only ones trapped in the cell block.’’ Mugman said as he raised an eyebrow as Frisk come close to the bars, now putting and holding them with their hands.

‘’Well you thought wrong, do ya kid?’’ the man answered as they saw his hands had let go the bars as disappearing from them. Frisk wanted to peek over to see who or what the heck this man was as they questioned: Is he going to help them?

              [.......]                                                                 >[Who are you?]

                                            >[Who are you?]<

‘’Well, I thought I would be known in this version of the Outworld anyway.’’ man said before he let his voice reveal his name.

‘’The name’s Erron Black.’’

‘’Erron Black?’’ Mugman said as he scratched his head, Frisk shrugged their shoulders in confusion, ‘’Did his men got you too?’’ Mugman asked.

‘’You mean Colonel Radec? Yeah but different, I had tried to kill Visari for money but I was caught in the act when he showed up. I had tried to fight back but he had the upper hand. Never thought that you kids had ended up being stuck as well.’’ Erron answered.

‘’Do you think that you can get us out of here?’’ Mugs once again asked, Erron only shrugged and said ‘’With me on this cell, I can’t, not without a key unless…’’

‘’Unless what?’’

‘’Unless you had a power of your own, from where I am from, people had use it in combat, all of them ending with the person…. Well, ending their opponent after a few kicks and punches.’’

Frisk had already knew what this Erron Black guy is talking about and they tell that the word ‘’Ending’’ in his voice had meant, Mugman titled his head as he said ‘’Ending their opponents? Well… that’s insane.’’

‘’Hey, it’s what we do, only business and that’s all.’’ Erron muttered before saying ‘’Boy, you do had any power left in you right?’’

‘’I do, why would you ask that?’’ he asked as he scratched his head once again, Erron then insisted ‘’It could be able to get you both out, now, find a crack on the wall and place your hand on it.’’

Mugman looked at Frisk as they looked back at him before looking for the crack on the wall then Frisk spotted it on the wall, they silently called out for Mugs.

He turned his head to look at them as he whispered ‘’What did you find?’’

Frisk then pointed at the crack, Mugman walked over to it then placed his hand on it, he felt a breeze of wind escaping from it then Erron called out ‘’Did you two find it?’’

‘’Yeah,’’ Mugman said ‘’I even feel a breeze coming from it.’’

‘’Good.’’ Black said with amazement toned his voice but still serious is there, ‘’Now break it open.’’

‘’Are you sure this is how we will escape? What about you?’’ Mugman questioned, from what Black can tell that worry is in his voice, he know it from that. ‘’I will be fine, I would find a way to spring out of this. Now break it and get out of here.’’ Erron reassured.

Mugman thought about it for a moment before turning to Frisk who is worried for this man’s safety as well and saying ‘’Frisk, stand back.’’

*You took a few steps backwards as you watched Mugman begins to charged up with his hands balled up into fists. *Then one quick motion, he reared back before letting out a ball of energy at the wall, bursting it opened and leaving a hole. *You were amazed that Mugman can do that.

‘’H-huh!’’ Mugman gushed, looking at his hands then at the hole, ‘’I still got it!’’ he exclaimed as Frisk smiled before hearing Erron’s voice from the cell beside them going ‘’I heard a bang, did you-’’

‘’I busted a hole in a wall!’’ Mugman explained, Erron was surprised ‘’Good one kid, now get out of here and get far from here as possible before they get here.’’

Mugman nodded as he went into the newly opened passage way, Frisk then looked at the iron bars one more time.

*You then said to Erron, *’’Thanks for helping us.’’

‘’Anytime kid.’’ he replied as he heard Frisk entering the hole as well as four guards came in from both directions to see what was that noise then saw the hole had been left open for them to see.

They panicked ‘’Oh no!’’

‘’Get Colonel Radec! This is now red alert!’’

One of the guards that is right next to Erron’s cell shouted at the three other guards before they ran out of the cell block, before the guard could go with them, he was caught in a choke hold by the hitman who helped them escaped, Erron then murmured ‘’Alone at last.’’ before knocking him out cold with a baton that he had stolen while he’s holding him and then snatched the keys as he fell, he then used them to unlock his cell and getting out of it to go look for his guns.

He needs them to fight in order to escape!

[lasclvip]

Magic knight rayearth manga updates

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MAGIC KNIGHT RAYEARTH MANGA UPDATES SERIES

They’re hugging each other but they’re crying – they want to know why she had to be killed.Īnd that was the end of that. Right after Emeraude gets her last wish of being with Lord Zagato, the three are transported back to Tokyo Tower, mere minutes after a flash of light occurred.

MAGIC KNIGHT RAYEARTH MANGA UPDATES SERIES

I really liked how the series ended though. He literally died trying to keep her alive – even he knew the cost of her death. He fell in love with her too but he loved her so much that he was willing to take the blame, the fall, for it. It’s a really good twist that, at the end, Emeraude revealed the reason why she brought the three girls over was to kill her – she was being selfish and fell in love with Lord Zagato when she shouldn’t have. The world’s stability literally depends on her prayers, thoughts, and wishes. They seem more human and not blown out of proportion with the exception of Emeraude, at first. I really like the characters in this series, though. I also like that they’re actually different from one another but they’re all still very similar. They don’t seem like all powerful – they all have their flaws, even if it’s not completely noticeable in the manga. The girls are funny and you can relate to them – I know in a lot of ways, I could relate to Hikaru, Fuu, and Umi at different parts of the stories. You can basically show all the major events happening in quick succession and readers won’t get bored right away because there isn’t a drag – it doesn’t even exist!Īs for the plot itself, I think this is one of CLAMP’s better stories out there (especially since it’s actually completed) despite it’s very low volume count. It cuts out all the unnecessary parts that usually puts people off from it. It also cuts down on time and it gets right to the point. A lot of these manga forget they have characters and their stories that needs to be carried instead of having to go around the world (and maybe beyond) just to get a glimpse of the world around them. On the other hand though, it could be a good thing because in a lot of fantasy-esque series, they tend to go on forever. What are their roles besides helping the girls around the world? Because the whole thing is based on how the pillar thinks, it’d be interesting to meet more of the people who lived there besides Clef, Presea, Ferio… I would love to have known what happened to them after the incident or at least during. Well, “some world building that’s missing” isn’t how I should have put it. Not to mention, we could also miss a huge chunk of characterization and then a little bit more understanding about why the girls are the way they are. We get from the get-go that the land changes based on the pillar’s, and the people’s, hearts. It could be a bad thing because there could be some world building that’s missing from Cefiro. Now, I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. It’s very quick pace and a lot gets done over the course of three volumes (or one omnibus). However, it’s rather short as a manga series. And, oh, does it hurt so good.įortunately, that’s not the case with this series. There are so many series that I want to try to read but at the same time, I’m so worried I’m going to be burned again by your stupid deux ex machina. You either confound me or I adore you to where I want to be proud that I’m a huge fan of yours. This blog post will contain spoilers please read after the cut if you’ve already read the manga. But how are a bunch of junior-high-school kids supposed to defeat the might of the handsome and sinister Lord Zagato… with only an exceedingly strange bunny creature named Mokona as their guide? All information come from Manga Updates.

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Umi, Hikaru, and Fuu are three schoolgirls out on a field trip to Tokyo Tower… when suddenly a strange voice summons them to Cefiro, a world full of monsters and magic! They have been brought here as the last hope of the Princess Emeraude, who believes they are the Magic Knights, foretold in legend, who will save her realm. Genre: Adventure, Drama, Fantasy, Mecha, Shoujo, Supernatural

[sparklyjojos]

Let’s Read & Suffer: Tsukumojuku by Maijō Ōtarō [part 27]

Today`s recap: It’s raining heads, hallelujah! [tw gore, child death]

STORY 7 PART 2

Upon learning about the other “him’s” crime, Tsukumojuku decided that the mother-in-law should take the kids and run away from Chofu, and he’d go and find Yuuki (who wasn’t answering her phone again).

“Don't stop and absolutely do not leave the car,” he instructed the mother-in-law as she and the kids got in her red Alfa Romeo. “When I call you, I’ll let your phone ring for a second and quit the call, then repeat it once, then the third time I’ll let the call come through and we can talk. Don’t pick up otherwise, even if you see my number. Alright?"

“Alright. Do you know where Yuuki is now?”

“No... but I'm going to think about it hard.”

“Ah, so you're finally using your head, Mr. Tsutomu. I've been waiting for it. Well, take care of yourself.”

“You watch out for yourself too, mom.”

“It’s gonna be a dangerous day, huh? I could use a thrill or two. Anything more interesting than fixing tatami all the time is fine with me, haha.”

“Personally, I find fixing tatami to be quite fun.” He laughed a little too.

“Oh well, that's the difference in our values. You know, I’m glad that Yuuki found such a good man. A handsome one, too. Mr. Tsutomu, could you take off the sunglasses and show me your face?”

He did. Like always, the mother-in-law didn't faint. She just swallowed heavily and put her head on the wheel to calm down, shuddered for some time, and finally let out a long breath. “Oof! That got my chest allll warmed up, alright.”

“Mom, please...”

“You're just too pretty, Mr. Tsutomu. It's a little scary.”

“...Thanks.”

“Well then, we’re off. Good luck searching for Yuuki.” She drove off, the triplets waving him goodbye through the rear window.

- - -

Alright. Now to find Yuuki. He turned around to return to the house.

There was a head on the ground.

His own head, gushing blood, with eyes staring vacantly into space. Rope had been wrapped three times around its top part, as if making a crown. What the hell? Obviously he was still alive, so... did that head belong to another “him”?

He looked up. Thick dark clouds were gathering over Chofu, forming a slowly moving whirlpool. (He knew that other “hims” had been sent to various times and places by that whirlpool. If someone would arrive here, would they protect him and Yuuki, or try to kill them?...)

As he moved towards Keiou-Tamagawa station, he saw even more heads on both sides of the road, all similarly wrapped in rope. He eventually arrived at the crossroads. On the road in front of him was a head, on the road to his left -- another head, on the right -- nothing. Huh. He understood now. The heads must be “Guiding Stones” that would show him the way, just like the stepping stones in Tea Gardens tell the customers where to go.

The owner of this world must have been guiding him towards Yuuki.

He moved forward, ignoring the pedestrians screaming because of all the heads. Suddenly a woman was hit by something falling from the sky and fell dead where she stood. The mysterious object was yet another head tied three times with rope, and when Tsukumojuku looked up, he saw a lot of them in the sky, falling all over the city.

It looked like somebody was trying to make him lose his way by adding those “fake” heads into the mix, so he wouldn’t be able to differentiate between them and the real Guiding Stones. (Just like they say, hide a tree in the forest, hide a head in... a mountain of heads.) It seemed the heads were flying in from one direction, so he ran that way.

He found the source in the school grounds of Chofu's Second High School: a medieval ballista. It had been equipped with a small engine that made it work without anyone around, so it could launch heads into the city like a very morbid batting machine. There was a considerable pile of heads, and bodies, piled up next to it.

(Like a mass killing upon him. Commited by whom? By “him”.)

The ballista eventually ran out of the previously loaded ammunition, though Tsukumojuku still had to cut the engine’s belt to completely stop it. From far away, he constantly heard yelling of shocked and surprised citizens.

Looking at the pile of corpses, he got lost in thoughts.

The third angel sounded his trumpet, and a great star, blazing like a torch, fell from the sky on a third of the rivers and on the springs of water— the name of the star is Wormwood. A third of the waters turned bitter, and many people died from the waters that had become bitter.

He entered the school, found a lighter and bug spray, returned to the courtyard, and with a makeshift flamethrower started burning the bodies. This would be “wormwood”. [I guess it’s because a bug spray kills worms? Idk.] Soon fire was “blazing like a torch”. He heard horrified screams, and he didn't know whether they came from the high school students observing him from afar, or from the burning pile. (He didn't know. He really didn't need to know, or think about it too hard.)

The subsequent arrival of the firefighters who started spraying the fire with water was mitate for Wormwood taking the world’s water, and it was probable that the water would become bitter and toxic after coming in contact with the bodies.

The mitate had been fulfilled.

STORY 6 PART 3

[Once again we have jumping narration.]

Meanwhile, “Tsukumojuku” found Satou Emiko and killed her. He ripped out her organs, put her three children inside the body, and stitched the opening closed. (“Satou Emiko's children hadn't been born yet.” “Satou Emiko's children have returned to the womb”. The opposite to what he, Seshiru and Serika did in Nishi Akatsuki.)

His beloved Satou Emiko. Emiko who told him, You are cursed. Crops don't grow from your soil. You will wander around the earth. But for those who kill you, it will he avenged sevenfold. She was right. A person who says such a correct thing must love the one she's telling it to. (He certainly couldn't make anything of value. He just wandered through the world. He was cursed.)

- - -

Then “Tsukumojuku” went to Chofu and killed Umi by hitting her with one of the fallen heads. (”Hide a tree in the forest, hide the person murdered with a head among people accidentally killed with them.”)

(When so many die, one's death is not special. You could say that every death is special, yes, but if it's invisible, that specialness remains hidden. Though regardless of the way it happens, one's death is always special for them, whether it's privileged or not.)

Tsukumojuku's beloved Umi. He'd do anything for Umi, would be scared of nothing, would give up anything without hesitation. Would light up the entire world for her. Without her, he'd be lonely, sad, in agony. He really would die.

“Tsukumojuku” then ate Umi’s children. (Blood next to blood, meat next to meat, bone next to bone. An union of father and children, of bodies and souls. Three in one. A perfect Trinity.)

- - -

Rie was crying, yelling, trying to run away. He cried too. Rie. His everything. Rie, who gave him, the empty him, meaning. He loved her. He was able to feel joy living together with her. It was a miracle. But that miraculous Rie “he” now caught, beat unconscious, and dragged to Umi's house, where he burned the bodies of both women.

The second angel sounded his trumpet, and something like a huge mountain, all ablaze, was thrown into the sea. [”umi” = sea]

He missed Rie terribly.

He baked the children on the fire and ate them.

STORY 6 PART 4

[Back to normal narration.]

As Tsukumojuku was searching for Rie, many of other “hims” called him on the phone, all screaming and crying.

I wish you've never been born! You should have died a long time ago!

I don't understand... What are you trying to do with this world? Killing those you love, losing them forever? Why? How can you do this?

Everything’s gone! There's no hope left for me! Why can I kill others, but not myself? Please kill me! I don't want to live in this world anymore! Everything that was important to me no longer exists in this world! Please kill me! Me, and me, and me, and me, and all of us, please kill us!

Say something! Answer!

Tsukumojuku didn't answer. He had to hurry. All the people he had loved in the Second, Third, Fourth, Fifth Story were already dead... next would be the Sixth Story’s Morimoto Yuuki.

Following the Guiding Stones, he finally found Yuuki: she was standing by the south entrance of the Chofu station.

“Yuuki!” He tried to approach her, but she ran away at his sight. She had probably seen the news and realized that all the women from the Stories were being killed one by one. She must have thought he had come to kill her. “Yuuki, it's me! You don’t have to run! It's me, your Tsutomu!”

He followed her down the stairs to the station’s underpass. As he was turning the corner, something hit him square in the face so hard that he fell down on the ground, his consciousness rapidly fading.

Yuuki knelt next to him, worried, and next to her he saw another girl and a man. That man looked exactly like him.

“Are you alright?” Yuuki asked. “Mrs. Tsushima, you really didn’t have to be that brutal!”

Tsushima?... Tsushima Takako... the man was keeping very close to her, so this must have been the “him” from the Seventh Story, who had gotten here from the Cross House through the tornado, and apparently found this world’s Takako. The Seventh Story’s “him”... funny... didn't seem to have three heads...

Before he lost consciousness, he could smell guava from somewhere. What a sweet smell...

- - -

- - -

IMPRESSIONS:

Maijo Otaro On Drugs: The Chapter.

I have to awkwardly cut Story 7 Part 4 here for now, as it’s really long. Since we’re entering the last stretch of the book, I think I’ll post the rest of the recaps at once as a two- or three-parter finale once I’m done editing. ...Which may take a few days.

I love that Tea Garden stepping stones comparison for two reasons. One: it’s a thematic return to the First Story, in which Tsukumojuku saw the Kato house’s garden for the first time, marveled at the stepping stones, and later explained the concept of mitate using that garden as an example. Two: the purpose of the stepping stones in Tea Gardens is to make the guests slow down, enter a meditatie mindset, and have time to mentally prepare for the Tea Ceremony -- this is imo a very good choice to show that we’re approaching the “mental journey” kind of a finale.

The thing with the “rope” wrapped three times around each head sounded familiar, so I checked that Beyond illustration in Jorge Joestar and... well, I have no clue whether this is intentional or a coincidence, nevertheless it’s really interesting in hindsight.

>>>NEXT PART>>>