#the rest of the stories in mannequin didn’t stand out as much though. but i think vampire miku’s a gamer girl(???) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thefanficmonster · 3 years ago

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Just thought about this as a story or headcanons, maybe the lords in re8 have a child, which is the reader and they are somewhere around 7 in the beginning. You can do them all separately, like first part would be Heisenberg, then Dimitrescu, Beneviento, and then Moreau, so the reader would accidentally do something and they are scared that the lord that is their parent would be super mad and they run away and the lords reactions to their child being gone and maybe the reader goes back to the village older, maybe 14 or 15 and the lords are emotional when they finally reunite with the reader. Maybe at first they don't recognize the reader at first, thinking they are just an outsider until they see something that they gave the reader as a birthday present and they recognize them. And it's just full fluff in the end? This has also been bugging my mind for a while 🤣 sorry if this ask was complicated to read

Heyy ~ lovely idea as always hun! I changed it up a bit, hope you don't mind and still enjoy reading it nonetheless 💗

Alcina Dimitrescu

- Being the youngest Dimitrescu, you were expected to be a bit of a spoiled brat since our mother and sisters looked after you like the most precious and rarest gem in this world - Surprisingly though, you were a very well behaved child - A shy, quiet, well-mannered kid that followed their mother's rules like they were the law - But even you weren't immune to that childish curiosity that every kid possesses - So you had to go on and break a rule or two eventually - However, the biggest one you broke, the one that had you sweating nervously, was sneaking down into the basement where the wine your mother and sisters were so proud of was kept - With trembling hands you picked up one of the bottles, the one with the most interesting pattern on the bottle, and began to expect it - That’s when a noise suddenly echoed throughout the basement, causing you to drop the bottle which broke as soon as it the ground, sending the red liquid splashing everywhere - You were mortified - You were only six at the time, you couldn’t think of a strategy to fix the mess you had made - So instead, you chose to run and hide, convinced you’d get in A LOT of trouble when your mother would find out - The place you chose to hide in was a run down part of the courtyard where you were least likely to be spotted by anyone or anything - Your plan started backfiring only about an hour after you settled in your hiding spot - The cold was starting to be painful on your skin but you refused to go back in - Before you knew it you had passed out, deleting any memory of what was to happen afterwards - Upon waking up, you found yourself in your room, changed in a new set of clothes and void of the chill you were suffering from before you lost consciousness - It didn’t take you long to notice your mother sitting in a chair next to the bed, struggling not to drift of to sleep, her face looking like she had aged about ten years in the span of a few hours out of worry - “Mom?” You spoke up weakly, startling the woman who was on her feet and crouching down closer to you within a second - “Y/N, darling, why’d you do that? You had me worried sick.” Alcina said, her hand gently caressing your hair, none of that sternness she was known for left in her - “I’m sorry, mama. For scaring you and for the wine bottle. I didn’t mean to...” You tried saying but got choked up by your tears - “The wine be damned. Nothing is as important to me as you are sweetie.” She said, planting a soft kiss on your forehead before climbing in bed with you and wrapping her arms around you, her embrace so warm and comforting - You never doubted your mother’s love for you, but that moment only made you more sure in it and made you love her triple the amount you already loved her

Donna Beneviento

- Donna had always been generous with the amount of dolls she allowed you to have and play with - Although, the ones she gave you were not infected with her Cadou and couldn’t move or speak on their own as to not scare you - However, you were still allowed to play and talk with Angie who you were raised to see as a sister - And just like sisters, you and Angie also fought every now and then - But, this one time, she really angered you and with all the strength of a six year old that you possessed you threw her across the room - She hit a wall hard enough to loosen one of her arms and it fell off - That’s when you knew you were practically dead in trouble and ran to hide under your bed - As you were climbing up the stairs though, you could still hear Angie’s screaming and crying from downstairs and Donna could no doubt hear it as well - So as to avoid running into her, instead of hiding upstairs, you went into the basement - Where you had never been in, by the way - Meaning you had no idea what horrors awaited you there - Mannequins, doll parts, terrifying dolls which moved on their own - In your eyes it was a pure nightmare - Seeing the dolls turning their heads to follow your movement, some even raising an arm as if to greet you almost made you scream several times but you didn’t want to give away your hiding spot - And that’s when the laid out mannequin on the table, one you were already terrified of, turned it’s head to look at you, opened its eyes and mouth - The radio on the other table turned on simultaneously, all of it being too much of a scare for you to be able to suppress the scream you let out - That’s when you felt a hand on your shoulder and screamed even louder, even beginning to cry - The hand turned you around and you were suddenly facing your mom who looked scared and concerned, a little paler than usual too - You took no notice of that though, seeing as how you ran right into her, hiding your face in her hip - “I’m sorry mommy! I didn’t mean to hurt Angie! Just please don’t let them scare me anymore!” You cried, your tiny hands balled up in fists, clutching to Donna’s dress as if for dear life - The woman was relieved to see you were safe although still a little confused as to why you had even run down to the basement in the first place - And then she thought a bit more about what you had said - “Oh dear, you thought you were in trouble? Angie’s perfectly fine, Y/N. Her limbs come off loosely all the time. You didn’t even actually hurt her.“ - Seeing that your distress was showing no sign of decreasing, Donna picked you up and proceeded to carry you up to where Angie was so she could apologize for making you feel guilty in the first place

Salvatore Moreau

- Being a young kid, the Reservoir was a rather dangerous place for you to wander around in unsupervised - Usually you’d stick to the safest area, aka the one furthest away from the water, and would only be allowed to see the rest of your dad’s property with him by your side, holding your hand to make sure you wouldn’t fall - But one day, as you were sitting in at the entrance of the Reservoir, in the small body of water by your feet you saw a golden fish - Mesmerized, you foolishly ducked down to try and touch it but it, of course, swam away - Oh but you were far from prepared to let it go - So you chased after it, watching its glimmering skin rush under the surface of the water, going further into the dangerous parts of the property - You were mindless to the fact you were entering a territory that was originally forbidden to you - That is until a wooden board on the dock broke under you, causing you to fall in the water - And being only barely six years old, you didn’t know how to swim so before the panic had even worn off completely, you started screaming for help, praying your father would hear you - And boy were you in luck - A giant fish emerged from the water from underneath you, carrying you on its back to the dock you had fallen from - You scrambled to get to the safe half of it and sat on the ledge - By the time you were able to look around with clear vision instead of the blurred with tears one you had been struggling with seconds prior, the monster fish was gone - And your dad was standing on the dock next to you - “You see no why you aren’t allowed here, child?” - You nod, sniffling and running to hug him, relieved to be in your dad’s safe embrace - Despite the efforts to be stern, Moreau crumbles back to his usual loving and caring self, being the best father in the world in your eyes - He carried you, piggy-back style back to the safe space of the Reservoir

Karl Heisenberg

- It goes without say that, growing up in a factory as dangerous as Heisenberg’s, there’s certain amount of rules you have to respect for yours and your father’s safety as well as the successfulness of his experiments - But there was no force that was able to keep you away from this one machine that looked far too interesting for you to overlook - You couldn’t help but go up to it every now and then to look at the blinking lights and the tempting colorful buttons - And then there was one day when just looking didn’t satisfy you - So you went on to press a few buttons, in the order of your favorite colors - It didn’t take long for you to realize how poor that decision was - When sparks started flying from the machine was when you finally decided to back away and that satisfying your curiosity wasn’t worth it - But it was already too late - The whole process had stopped, the conveyer belt of murder machines pausing mid-movement suggesting the whole operation was hindered - “Y/N? What on Earth are you doing?” - Your dad’s voice had never terrified you so much - All excuses and apologies you wanted to say died down in your throat at the sight of your mildly agitated father standing behind you with an unimpressed look on his face - He wasn’t angry by any means but your vision was too blurred by tears for you to be able to see that - “Dad, I’m so sorry!” You cried, running to hug him, back turned to the malfunctioning machine you believed you damaged beyond repair - Wrapping his arms around you, he gave you a quick hug before stepping around you and approaching the machine, fixing it with the press of a few buttons - “Hope that teaches you a valuable lesson not to break the rules kid.” He said with a crooked smile, ruffling your hair while you still stared at machine in disbelief

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soulmate-game · 4 years ago

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Can you do a prompt of Marinette being the daughter of the Joker and Harley but Harley left him before Marinette was born and when Joker found out about his daughter He decided to kidnap Marinette so she can become like him (Ace chemicals) (Daminette)

Woot, my first ask in a while! Let’s see how I can do this oddly specific ask that reminds me of a fic that might actually exist but tbh I’ve read so many fanfics idk if my brain is remembering right

—*—*—*—*—*

Marinette knew Sabine and Tom weren’t her biological parents. She had known ever since she was eight, when her mother by blood visited her for the first time, sat her down, and explained everything. Including, but not limited to, her disastrously toxic past relationship, her new girlfriend, and her recent success with long term rehab (unofficial rehab that mostly consisted of illegal anti-hero actions, but hey if it worked it worked).

Marinette understood. Well no, she really didn’t since she was only eight, but she understood that her mom— that Harley— was genuine. She had always had a knack for emotions and telling when people were sincere or not. And Harley really was regretful about not being in her life beforehand, and was serious about wanting to be part of her life now that her own was mostly sorted out.

So Marinette was not surprised when Harley really did stick it out. When Harley cooed over Marinette copying her hairstyle to show her support of her biological mom, when Harley never failed to call at least once a week even if she was in jail for punching some asshole or another. Harley never stayed arrested long anymore, she was usually found to be on the right side of the moral scale more and more often so the police didn’t bother keeping her locked up anymore. Through the years, Marinette always looked forward to her mom’s calls. Looked forward to being lulled to sleep by one crazy story or another from her mother’s past. Everything was nice. Perfect, even, for a while.

A thump sounded from her balcony, one late night when Marinette was thirteen. Blinking, the dark haired girl furrowed her brows. Who would be on her balcony? Cautiously walking towards the trap door leading to it, grasping her metal pencil holder as a weapon (she remembered all of her Mom’s stories about break-ins and random attacks back in Gotham), the teen strained her ears. Akuma attacks were only a few months old now, but she had already become in high alert for any sign of Hawkmoth or his victims. As per usual, Marinette’s paranoia began to kick in. Did Hawkmoth already figure her out? Was he here for her earrings? Would she be able to fight him?

She gently pushed up the trap door, catching a glimpse of black leather. Huh? Marinette narrowed her eyes, confused. Was it Chat? He should have been on patrol, on the other side of the city. What was he doing visiting her?

Suddenly the trap door yanked the rest of the way open, making Marinette yelp as the handle for it rugged away from her fingers. And there, backlit by the pure blue-white moonlight, was Not Chat Noir. It was Catwoman, in all her skintight black leather glory, grinning at her before pushing her cat-eye goggles up to the top of her head and crouching down by the trap door’s entrance, balancing only on the pads of her feet.

“Well hello there~” the woman purred. “So you’re the cute little kitten Harley is so secretive about. Nice to finally meet you,” the woman held out a hand, sending Marinette a sweet, if mysterious, smile. For a while, the pigtailed girl only stared before a squeal of excitement left her throat, leaving very little room for any doubt as to her bloodline. A large smile curled over Marinette’s lips, leaving her beaming widely at the catlike woman on her balcony.

“Auntie Selina! Mom’s told me so much about you! Come in, come in, come in! I’ll sneak some macaroons up for you. Or do you prefer croissants? What’s your favorite flavor? Are you really dating Batman? Oh my goodness, that necklace is so lovely! Did you steal it?”

Selina could only chuckle fondly at the word vomit, letting the smaller girl drag her down the trap door and into her very… pink room. Looking around, Selina was once again slapped with just how similar this kid was to her outgoing friend. Marinette clearly had no shame in indulging in the things she liked, such as the color pink and anything regarding fashion. But there were other things amongst the girliness of the room, like the posters of Jagged Stone and the training dummy half-sticking out of her closet door. There were a few ornamental knives hung up behind her computer, seemingly just for decoration although Selina could see that they were definitely battle ready and sharpened. A small mallet, clearly a miniature replica of her mother’s own signature weapon, leaned up against the side of the girl’s laundry basket. But then there was Marinette’s mannequin, which was surrounded by meticulously cut pieces of cloth and had other pieces pinned to it strategically. Marinette clearly had the same professionalism and love for her chosen career that had so completely defined Harley in the Time Before Joker. The same genius intellect hiding in those deceptively cheerful bluebell eyes. And for the first time, though not for the last to be sure, Selina found herself thoroughly relieved that it seemed Marinette had inherited very little from her father.

Except, as she would learn from stories Harley told her later, an apparent affinity for chaos.

“I’m not that picky, kitten. But I’m not that hungry, so don’t go too out of your way,” Selina decided to just react the same way she did with Harley’s rambles, and answer one question at a time. “Also, I am actually dating Bruce Wayne. But, if you promise not to tell anyone—“ she waited for Marinette’s eager nod before continuing casually, “— the two are maybe not as mutually exclusive as many think,” Selina finished with a conspiratorial wink. “No, I actually did not steal this necklace. Bruce has been adamant in trying to curb me of my thieving habit by buying me almost everything I so much as glance at sideways. It’s sweet. Naive, because I like stealing for the fun of it, but sweet.”

Marinette giggled, bouncing in place happily. She loved a bit of innocent gossip like this. “Is Momma Ivy ever gonna visit? I don’t think Mom told her much about me yet, and I still gotta give her the shovel talk!” the fierce look that overcame Marinette’s face made Selina laugh again. Oh yes, definitely her mother’s daughter.

“Pam has been trying to sneak over, but the laws regarding Metahumans in Paris suddenly got much stricter a few months back and have caused some problems. You wouldn’t happen to know what happened, would you?” Selina did not miss when her seemingly innocent question caused her niece to close off almost instantly. Bluebell eyes took on a familiar guardedness, and scanned her with the same soul-searching intensity that Harley had when she was channeling her Psychiatrist side. Selina found herself in a slightly concerning spot though—

Because she couldn’t predict Marinette at all. She was left to simply stand there as Marinette searched for some unidentifiable thing in her eyes, completely unable to read the younger girl’s face and with no idea of what to expect. The side effect of having chaos so thoroughly entwined in both of her biological parents, she supposed.

“Nope, no idea.”

Selina knew that was a lie, but knew equally as well that she would not be getting a better answer anytime soon. So, she let it go and the two of them once again dipped into innocent chatter.

Later that night, when Selina left and the sun threatened to rise at any minute, Tikki flew up from her hiding spot under Marinette’s pillow to land on her holder’s shoulder. Marinette giggled and looked over at her little friend.

“Tikki?”

“Yes, Mari?”

“Why was I chosen to be your holder?” She asked suddenly, flopping back into her bed and staring at her ceiling. The little goddess hummed, smiling knowingly before flying down to cuddle in the crook of Marinette’s neck.

“Because you are born from luck itself. Even when bad things happen, you have the luck and determination to get out just fine, and stronger than before. And despite the destruction and anarchy in your blood, you have the willpower to reign it in and keep control of yourself. That’s all order really is, Marinette. The decision to take all the chaos and madness around us, and make it make sense. Make it do something good. And that’s a large part of who you are, I could feel it in your soul the moment we first met.”

Marinette closed her eyes, biting the inside of her cheek. “What if I lose control?”

“... You’ll just have to get it back. It’ll be hard, but as long as you have people to support you, you will be able to do it. You aren’t evil, Marinette,” the small God seemed to sense the true question her holder was asking, and did her best to soothe the doubt the girl felt. “Just remember the reasons you fight against chaos. Remember everyone you love, and you’ll be okay. And you have me, I’ll always help you.”

“... thank you, Tikki.”

—*—*—*—*—*

“He’s going to find out, Mom.”

“No he won’t, don’t be silly! I’ve been very careful about hiding you from him, Nettie-pie.”

“Mom… I just have a bad feeling. I don’t think we can hide who I am from him. If he sees me, I think he’ll know.”

The phone went silent.

“If he hurts you, I’ll kill him. If I was crazy about him, Sugar, then I’m head over heels for you. Not even he can stop me from caving his skull in if he tries his usual tricks with you.”

“... My plane leaves soon, I’ll talk to you when I land. And mom?”

“Yeah, honeycake?”

“I love you.”

—*—*—*—*—*

It was uncanny just how often Marinette’s hunches were right. Her intuition was something to behold, truly, because it only took three days in Gotham before Joker snatched her right out of her room at Harley and Ivy’s apartment. At least Marinette had sixteen by then, so she had had enough experience as a hero in Paris and with generally unpredictable situations and people who were absolutely nuts for her to not immediately panic. Too much, anyway.

Because there was definitely a little panic there.

See, Marinette knew herself inside out by then. After her own battle with her toxic feelings towards Adrien and doing her best to heal from those before she turned out like her mom, she knew she was by no means mentally indestructible. Mental illness ran the high risk of being inherited, and Marinette was well aware that her own personality was scarily similar to her mother’s at times. She got attached quickly, felt affection and love for others very strongly and, as she found with Adrien, could easily become obsessive if she didn’t watch herself. At least Harley was the perfect person to help with that, and Marinette was serious about helping herself too. She did everything she could to keep an eye on her mental health and keep her behavior in check so she didn’t do anything too unhealthy with her relationships again.

But she knew, she knew she had a soft spot for family. She got attached too easily. And being in the same room as her biological father, despite being tied up by her hands and feet and knowing just how many unforgivable things he had done in his life, Marinette felt vulnerable. She didn’t want to hurt him, despite everything. She still loved him, despite every reason not to, despite her first meeting with him being with him shoving chloroform over her face and hogtying her to a metal chain dangling over a vat of acid.

Geez, she’d need more than just her mom as a therapist after this for sure. Even if her mom had a PH.D, Marinette felt like she’d need several psychiatrists to sort through her emotional turmoil right then and make sense of any of it.

Marinette licked her lips, aware that the only kindness that Joker gave his daughter was sparing her from the discomfort of being gagged.

“Don’t,” Marinette said, surprising herself with the amount of steel she was able to put into her voice. Somehow, she managed to make the single word sound more like an order than a plead. “Joker, put me—“

“Ah-Ah-Ah!” The clown walked over, tutting and waving his finger in the air in almost playful admonishment. He gave her a dramatically fake pout. “Don’t you know it’s disrespectful to refer to your father by his first name?” Neither of them mentioned that Joker was definitely not his real name. They both knew the point was moot. “Say it with me now— ‘Daddy dearest, I am more than willing to be dunked in acid for you,’ go ahead, say it.”

Marinette’s jaw clenched. Familial love or not, she would not tolerate being ridiculed like that. She dealt with enough ridicule when she was fourteen and fifteen during school, before she put Liar Rossi in her place. She had spent the past three years as a hero in charge of the war against Hawkmoth, in charge of protecting all of Paris from an emotional terrorist.

And gee, wasn’t that what Joker was, too? Sure, he was a terrorist in the classic meaning of the word as well, but he was nothing if not a skilled manipulator. He knew the human mind just as well as Harley or any other psychiatrist did, he just used his knowledge for different means. He had emotionally abused Harley for years, he emotionally abused and manipulated people all across gotham on a daily basis. He was just another Hawkmoth, but with more physical violence in place of magic.

With these thoughts strengthening her resolve, Marinette narrowed her eyes at the man who donated half of her DNA. She let her anger boil into her irises, hitting him with one of the few traits she knew she inherited from him.

Her ability to intimidate others on the tip of a hat.

“No,” she growled back at him. She took a deep breath. It had taken her a while, but she refused to be ashamed of who she was regardless of her blood relation. She would have no problem using the very things she inherited from Joker against him. She might have gotten most of Harley’s personality, she might have inherited her mother’s habit of falling in love hard, fast, and obsessively, but she also had Joker’s defiance. His bone-deep inability to be stopped from doing exactly whatever the fuck he wanted.

And then, there were Marinette’s own traits. The ones that were completely her own, developed over her life organically. Like her refusal to bow down to bullies, her creativity, her ability to take even the most chaotic situation and see some sort of balance and sanity in it that she could use to her advantage.

That she WOULD use to her advantage. The shadows she saw move out of the corner of her eye gave her the chance to do exactly that, she just needed to buy a few more seconds. Just a few more seconds.

“Excuse me?” Joker growled right back, his own intimidation, honed over more years than Marinette had been alive and thus much more potent than her own, reading its ugly head as he stalked towards her. His face was pulled down into an ugly snarl, his shoulders tensed and back straight as he glared right at her. From his spot on the metal walkway, he was easily able to reach over the railing and grab her chin in one pale, viciously strong hand. “I think you’re misunderstanding something here, little Marionette. I’m your father. Half of your life came directly from ME. That makes you my puppet. You exist to follow my orders,” his right grip suddenly let go, leaving behind the beginnings of a bruise as his entire demeanor changed from angry to cheerful. He spread his arms as if gesturing to the whole chemical plant victoriously, and an unnaturally large smile curved over his lips and bared yellowing teeth at her. “But that’s okay. I’ll forgive you this time, you haven’t learned any better yet. That’s why we’re here. We need to cleanse you of all those icky bad habits you’ve learned up until now, all you need is a little,” he bounced in place with a wicked smirk to illustrate his next words— “jumpstart. A little acid goes a long way to enlightenment you know, you’ll see my side of things in no time. And with my blood in you, you’ll make a better sidekick than that idiot Harley ever did. I can sense it, you’ve got a real talent for Chaos in you, it’s exciting, Heheeeheheee! Now then, we should probably speed things along before our family reunion is cut short. Hang in there, my little Marionette,” the man actually had the gall to spin in place while humming a tune cheerfully before all but dancing over to the lever that held Marinette’s length of chain in the air over the vat of chemicals below her. “Everything will clear up in that little head of yours in just a second!”

There! Right as Joker pulled the switch to lower her into the bubbling vat underneath her, Marinette was able to finish untying her hands. She couldn’t contain a small yelp as gravity flung her body forward, leaving her upside down on the chain for a brief moment. That was when the chain started lowering rapidly, and Marinette was barely able to rip the rope off of her ankles in time to swing off of it and onto the metal walkway that came up right next to the giant metal container of liquid death and insanity. Joker had barely enough time to shout in rage before the windows near the ceiling shattered, admitting the city’s vigilantes themselves. Batman, Nightwing, Red Robin, Red Hood, Robin, and evening Black Bat all landed on the same metal platform above Marinette’s head that Joker was still on, buying the teen time to start running. But she didn’t go towards the exit right away, instead heading right up the stairs into the thick of the fight. Robin briefly separated from where Joker was managing to hold his own, goons flooding from side doors to inhibit the heroes in their attempt to bring their boss down.

The katana-using vigilante kept one eye on Marinette the whole time, suspicious of why the girl would come back up if not to help her father. But that wasn’t what she did, instead she flipped and kicked and punched her way through the quickly growing sea of Joker thugs until she reached a small pink purse that had been abandoned near the lever that had nearly sent her into liquid insanity. Three thugs surrounded her right as she snatched the purse up and slung it over her shoulder, but Robin barely had the chance to head over before she was heaving the men, who were all easily three times her size, over her shoulder and was slamming elbows into soft spots and the side of her hand into pressure points. By the time Robin got to her side, all three men were unconscious and bound to wake up in utter agony.

Marinette glanced up, getting ready to haul Robin over her shoulder as well before she realized who he was. She let her shoulders relax just a tick, sighing in relief before returning her eyes to scanning their surroundings. She shot him a brief grin.

“Good thing my adoptive mother, Mom, Momma Ivy, and Auntie Selina all made sure I knew how to take down a small army on my own, huh?” She asked rhetorically before they were both unceremoniously dragged back into the giant brawl.

—*—*—*—*—*

“Nettie-pie!”

“Marigold!”

Harley and Pamela Quinzel-Isley shoved down anyone and everyone who dared block their direct path to their daughter. The girl of the hour stood next to the bat clan, a shock blanket held tightly around her shoulders as she did her best to finish her statement to both the vigilantes and Commissioner Gordon.

“You untied yourself�� from a ship-grade knot in high quality rope… with a phone charm?” They heard Gordon ask incredulously, to which Marinette could only give a lopsided smile. That was when her mom and stepmom crashed into her, enveloping her in a nearly suffocating hug.

“Gah— mom— momma Ivy—“ Marinette flailed in their arms for a bit before finally getting her head free and continuing her statement as if she didn’t have two of the most dangerous women in the city still giving her a bone crushing hug. “That’s better. Yes, Commissioner. You see, I realized when I was in the car with Joker, while I was pretending to still be unconscious, that one of the charms on my phone had pretty sharp corners that I could use like a serrated edge if I had enough time. So I carefully detached it from my phone, and held it in my palm. It took almost an hour, but once Joker noticed I was awake I kept him talking so that he didn’t notice what I was doing even as he tied me up to that chain. Really, it’s just lucky that I was able to get it worn down in time,” Marinette rubbed the back of her neck with a nervous chuckle. “But regardless, I think Batman and his partners,” she nodded to the listening vigilantes just to the side of her. “Were close enough that I would have been caught anyway, I just wanted to make sure they had less work to do. The sooner I freed myself, the sooner ‘Daddy Dearest,’” she grimaced as she mockingly used the same term Joker had tried to get her to say earlier that night. “Could go back behind bars where he belongs.”

“Oh my little Nettie-cake,” Harley cried, finally pulling back from the hug long enough to wipe her cheeks. It was clear that she had been crying for a while, and her colorful pigtails were mussed and tangled from where she must have been tugging on them in worry. “You were right. I’m so sorry, I never should have let you come to Gotham when I knew he was out of Arkham.”

Marinette was quick to shake her head frantically, pulling her arms out of Ivy’s hold so she could grasp Harley’s shoulders firmly. “No. No, Mom, I’m fine! And besides, we knew I couldn’t stay secret forever. I really like staying with you and Momma Ivy! Everything turned out fine though, and he’s headed back to Arkham. It’s okay.”

“It’s not okay, Nettle,” Pam argued, distracting herself by running her hands through Marinette’s bangs. She had only known the girl for two years, but that was more than long enough for her to consider the teenager as her own. “He took you right out from under our noses. You were supposed to be safe in our home, and he still got to you. That’s not okay. We weren’t able to protect you like we should have been. Maybe you should go back to Paris early.”

“What?! No way!” Marinette argued, eyes wide. “This is the first time I’ve been able to ever visit you guys in Gotham, I’m not letting some psycho sperm donor keep me from enjoying time with my family! I came here knowing full well that it was dangerous. I’m not gonna just run away after one bad experience.”

Harley snorted, and then devolved into uncontrollable giggles. “Heh— psycho sperm donor. Good one, sugar!”

Marinette smiled and rolled her eyes good naturedly at her mom’s usual immature antics. Seeing as Gordon had walked away muttering to himself a short while ago, Marinette pulled herself the rest of the way away from her moms and turned to the vigilantes. Without a second’s pause, she bowed to them just like her Maman Sabine taught her.

“Thank you for helping save me. I know it’s probably a shock that I’ve been kept secret from you guys all this time, but I hope you don’t lump me in with the likes of the green-haired half of my DNA. I’m staying with my Moms in their apartment, if you guys decide to patrol by our place like I suspect, I’ll leave some baked goods and coffee out for you on our patio. It’s the least I can do for you all after tonight. And don’t be too hard on Auntie Selina. Me and Mom swore her to secrecy, even from you guys.”

Batman jerked a little at the mention of Catwoman’s real name, jaw twitching for a second. Behind his cowl, his eyes narrowed. Marinette laughed, easily reading his body language and expression.

“She never told me who you are, but she didn’t exactly hide it either. It was easy to put the last pieces together on my own. But don’t worry, SHE swore me to secrecy too. I won’t tell anyone.

“How the hell are you related to the Laughing Asswipe from Hell?” Red Hood blurted out, his confusion clear even from behind his hideous helmet. Marinette burst into giggles, and both Pamela and Harley smiled knowingly.

“Mom gave me up for adoption when I was born, so I spent my whole life in Paris up until now,” she admitted. “Mom didn’t visit me for the first time until I was eight, and she and my adoptive parents are so awesome that it must’ve suffocated the worst traits from his DNA before they had a chance to develop,” she guessed out loud with a good natured smile.

Batman grunted. Marinette knew that one run-in wasn’t enough for them to trust her. After all, she was still the biological daughter of their arch enemy. But she didn’t mind, she understood the caution even if she didn’t fully agree with it. They weren’t outright hostile, despite the fact that Robin had never stopped glaring at her since they fought back-to-back against the mob of thugs earlier. She could live with their suspicion, as long as they continued to not be outright rude or mean to her.

At least she could empathize with Adrien now, whenever she figured out how to break it to him that Hawkmoth was definitely Gabriel and couldn’t be anyone else. Hopefully she could help soften the blow for him a little.

Harley and Ivy were starting to herd Marinette towards their car and take her back home, where they could continue to smother her in care and make sure she didn’t have even a scratch on her, when Robin’s voice stopped them all in their tracks.

“You are a surprisingly capable combatant.”

Marinette froze, blinking in surprise for a second before turning to stare at Robin in shock. The rest of the Bat Clam was doing the same, nobody expecting Robin of all people to be the first to directly complement Marinette. He tutted, crossing his arms, but never moved his gaze away from Marinette’s eyes.

“But your form could use some work. Most of your style is incredibly improvised, which I can appreciate since you do it well, but you would benefit from more structure in your fighting. I will set up a time and place for us to spar. We start in two days, if you think you can handle it.”

It took a while for what Robin said to sink in, and another few seconds for Marinette to decipher what his semi-aggressive, order-phrased proposal really meant. And she smiled.

“It’s a date.”

—*—*—*—*—*

Woo! This started off a little rough, but I really like how it ended up! Thank you, Anon!

#ml x dc #maribat #mlb x dc #eventual daminette #pre daminette #daminette #Bio!dad joker #bio!mom Harley Quinn #Joker Sucks #Request #Oneshot #Fanfiction #crossover

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donablue · 3 years ago

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this particular store is usually deserted around this time of day, so anto is always a little thrown on the rare occasion when he finds someone else there when he walks in. but this time it's a familiar face that wheels around to face him, surprise taking over it before he's greeted with a loud, "anto!"

"what's the story, champ?" he makes his way over to posy and bumps his arm into her shoulder. she bumps him back and anto stifles a small laugh at how it's less of a bump and more her bouncing ineffectively off his arm.

"wig shopping! i am not liking this one anymore," posy explains, absently gesturing at the pink wig currently on her head while she turns back to the mannequin heads displaying the range of wigs. she shoots him a glance out of the corner of her eyes. "what is being your story?"

he could say anything. and yet he opts for the truth. "last storm knocked one of my earrings loose, so i'm in the market for a new pair."

judging from the quirk of posy's eyebrows, she hadn't been expecting him to actually explain himself. he hadn't expected it either, really, but there's always been something about posy that settles him enough to offer up bits of honesty that he wouldn't afford anyone else.

when she doesn't reply, anto moves away to browse the lines of jewelry along the nearest wall. he's about halfway through the first display before posy speaks up.

"can i be choosing them for you?"

she's no longer looking at the wigs and is instead staring at him, looking borderline excited already.

"well, shit," he mutters to himself under his breath. anto knows he's going to give in but he gives himself the illusion of thinking it over for a beat before his shoulders sag and he lets out a sigh. "yeah, alright. nothing pink, though, alright?"

brilliant smile fixed on her face, posy hums her acknowledgment and runs to his side. her focus turns intense as she mulls over the displays in front of them, considering every piece carefully before she moves onto the next, and anto has to fight back the fond twist of his lips.

waiting patiently next to posy, his gaze flicks back and forth between her expression of concentration to the jewelry cases until she says, apropos of nothing, "i have never been thanking you."

"what–?" anto balks. "the fuck do you have to be thanking me for?"

"for not cheating at the duel. or, i guess, not totally cheating at the duel."

thinking about the duel still leaves a sour taste in anto's mouth. it makes his temple ache with the phantom pain of a bullet ripping past, just barely avoiding killing him outright.

"it was nice of you to be giving him a chance to fire back," posy continues, not having stopped to look up at him.

"he shot me in the face, posy," he grumbles, not caring how petulant it comes out.

"i said it was nice, not smart," she clarifies, and anto is torn between laughing hysterically and snarling.

he settles for bristling, shoulders hunching as he huffs out a harsh breath. "should've killed the bastard when i had the chance."

"grognak would never have forgiven you," posy states matter-of-factly, "and troy is being my best friend, so i'm happy you didn't."

nostrils flaring as he mentally flinches away from thinking about what grognak would have done if he'd actually killed troy, anto grunts and deflects, "yeah, well. i've done worse before. wouldn't have been the first time, or the last. all part of the job description, posy."

silences settles over them for a minute, and anto is pretty certain that posy's eyes don't move from the same set of earrings the entire time. that is, until she turns to meet his eyes and surprises him again.

"i killed someone too."

eyeing the woman skeptically, anto leans his hip against a display case and crosses his arms. "you? you, posy, have killed someone?"

"i have!" her stare is defiant and anto is reminded once again of why he's fond of her.

"just the one?"

"as far as i am knowing, yes," posy replies.

the cryptic answer makes him narrow his eyes at her until posy admits, "i suffered the blunt force traumas from having my face beaten in with a flashlight, so i don't remember. but thomas says it was to protect peoples! captain planet was stabbing people on the pier! i don't know why he died, i was only hitting him once with my flashlight!"

the distress on her face is too much for him. placing a hand on posy's shoulder, anto gives her a small shake and ducks down to look her in the eye.

"no offence, posy, but accidentally killing someone isn't the same. what do you know about being a gangster?"

"oh!" somehow, that seems to distract her from the turn the conversation had taken. she turns on her heel and darts towards the back, presumably into one of the changing rooms, leaving him to stand alone in the middle of the store without a response.

he can hear her rustling around so he goes back to browsing the shelves. watches, earrings, glasses, bracelets, necklaces, all easy enough to pluck from their stands and stuff into a pocket when he finds something he likes or deems good enough to sell off. a glimmer catches his eye and he turns to inspect it. there's a pair of earrings that look like they might be real amethysts, judging from the locked case enclosing them. with a glance over his shoulder, anto sets to picking the lock, smirking to himself when it pops open and he can snake a hand in to snatch the earrings. the case is closed again and the jewelry is safely in anto's hand when the sound of a curtain being drawn back reaches him, and he smoothly tucks them away into his jacket pocket, moving to greet posy when she comes out.

whatever he'd been expecting, he's not prepared for the sight of posy striding over to square up to him in her new outfit. it's not plain, but strangely muted compared to the other clothes anto has seen her in. her hands settle on her hips and she straightens up to her full height, puffing her chest out proudly.

"i am a solo dolo but i have respect all over the 'hood!" she declares, and anto's eyebrows shoot up his forehead.

"that right?"

he has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep himself from smiling, but his disbelief must come across loud and clear in his tone because the next thing he knows, posy is flashing him a grin and has her gun trained just to the left of him. "what is up, motherfucker?" she chirps.

his resolve cracks and laughter startles out of him.

it's not often that something reduces him to tears of laughter, but he doubles over and laughs until he can manage to straighten up, breathless and sporting blurry vision. "jesus– fair play, then. who taught you that one?"

"the ballas gave me gangster lessons," posy elaborates, grinning widely as he allows himself another few chuckles. "we've been killing, slicing, and gangbanging."

that sets him off again.

"they let me paint maxwell purple! steven thought i joined the gang, but i am thinking they are being liking me. like abdul with the vagos!" she explains further, watching him as he leans back against a display case to catch his breath.

"explains the purple wig." he jerks his chin in the general direction of her head, hand coming up to clutch at his ribs where he feel a faint ache. his eyes drift down to where her gun has come to rest against her side and he arches an eyebrow after a beat. "that a diamondback? what do you need that kind of firepower for, eh?"

posy spares the weapon a glance before she tucks it back into her jacket. "troy gave it to me. or pillbot. they both gave me one, it is being for protections. one of them got stolen though."

sobering slightly, anto nods, recalling the abridged version of events she's told him before. he tucks the first question that comes to mind, and the accompanying prickle of curiosity to know where troy would have gotten a diamondback from, away. "you let me know if you need something else, got it? don't want you walking around without a strap."

there's a long pause that nearly makes anto fidget with how intently posy stares at him. the moment abruptly ends and she rewards him with a sunny smile. "okay! peace, pimp!"

she's already made her way back into a dressing room by the time his stunned silence gives way to another bout of raucous laughter.

they don't spend long in the store after that, with posy quickly settling on a new blue wig and moving onto insisting he get a matching pair of stud earrings for himself. despite himself, anto caves. he buys them.

he's securing the backing of the second earring into place as they step back outside. when his hands fall back down to his sides, posy looks him over and gives him an approving nod. he returns the favour, making a show of inspecting the look of her new wig before nodding gravely. "right deadly," he announces.

"right deadly," posy returns with another nod.

his chest warms and, for a second, he allows his face soften.

posy moves towards her car, a little thing that he's seen a few times which, sure enough, has been painted puple.

"it was nice to be seeing you without... um. yeah!" she calls out once she's seated behind the wheel.

the corner of his mouth twitches up into a half smile as he fills in the blanks himself. "sure, look, we'll link up later, yeah? i've some stuff to sell."

he's about to turn away and head back to the shit car he'd stolen to get here, but he stops to consider briefly before jogging over to the driver's side of posy's car right as the engine comes to life. crouching down and rifling through his pockets, anto finds what he's looking for right as posy rolls the window down with a curious expression. reaching into the car and tugging one of posy's hands towards him, he deposits his favourite set of brass knuckles into her open palm and folds her fingers over it.

"easier to hide than a gun," he says by way of explanation and leaves it at that before he dashes away.

her excited "oh!" is easily heard and anto allows himself a pleased grin as he slides into his stolen car and promptly throws it into reverse, honking twice before he speeds away.

#i just think..... that they should be friends #and that posy should be trying to get anto to wear more colours #anyway this one goes out to tumblr user trognak bc posy our beloved #anto murphy #posy florian #anto: every good gangster has at least one set of knuckle dusters #donablue.exe

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tsukikento · 4 years ago

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Empathetic Chapter 14

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

Summary: After your mom, the number 1 hero in America, gets offered a teaching position at U.A., you two pack up your things and head to Musutafu, Japan to start a new life. Pressure for you in America was at an all-time high, and now you’re in Japan, where almost no one knows you, or your family’s past.

This tale starts on your first day of class where your new teacher decides the best way for you to fit in is to fight against the strongest person in your class: Bakugou Katsuki.

Warnings/Genre: This piece will feature some angst and reference to an abusive parent, if you are ever worried about other tw’s feel free to send me an ask and I will let you know. There will also be fluff, slight angst, pining, and slowburn.

A/N: I’m glad I was able to get another chapter out before school starts for me. Anyways, please let me know what you guys think! I love hearing your thoughts and feelings on the story!

(masterlist)

You woke up on Sunday with a small pit in your stomach.

It only grew bigger as the day continued.

However, it started small. Just a little bit of nerves for your training sessions today. Except, you did not have much time to think about these anxieties because you woke up to an email from Kobayashi.

You went in yesterday to try on the costume, it fits quite well. You loved the style he was able to encapsulate as well as the functionality it allowed. Once he pinned it in a few places and adjust some things, he bid you farewell.

He said his intern, who was a student at U.A., would make the adjustments that day and be able to give it to you for one more look over in the morning. Additionally, this student would be the person you would be contacting if you ever needed any adjustments.

The email, which also had this student in it, detailed where you two would meet up to do any final adjustments if there was anything after the adjustments made yesterday.

The meeting time was set for 10:00 in the morning and it was currently 7:00, giving you ample time to go on a quick run, shower, and eat something.

Although your morning run was usually an opportunity for you to relax, you ended up feeling more nervous than anything. It was during this run that you were able to finally think about your fight against Bakugou.

You were sure in your abilities and skill with your quirk, enough so that you knew you would be safe. However, you also knew that Bakugou has been waiting for weeks for this rematch. If he won, he would surely gloat. If he lost, he would look like an angry Pomeranian as he demanded another fight.

Additionally, this anger would surely pour-over and affect the fight in a way that could be unsafe.

You felt the pit in your stomach grow just a bit more as you turned up your music and increased your running speed in an attempt to calm down.

By the time you finished running and took a shower, you barely had an appetite. The nerves in your stomach were making the idea of a meal seem disgusting and vile. Despite this, you knew you needed to eat something and forced yourself to drink a protein shake and a piece of toast with jam.

Hopefully not having an empty stomach will help my nerves, you thought as you munched on the toast.

Once the clock inched close enough to 10:00, you made your way to the support team’s school building.

Even though it was the weekend, the building was loud and bustling. Students were running through the halls and rooms with metal in their hands. Cautiously, walked through the building to find a specific room where your new costume designer would be.

Once there, you noticed only one other person in the room.

“Iwasaki Kou-san?” You asked while taking in their outfit and style. Their hair was straight, with some strands falling in front of their face. The rest was pulled back into a white hair tie. The dark color of his hair had hints of blue throughout when hit by the light correctly. With that in mind, it was difficult to identify the hair as one solid shade. However, the most noticeable things about him were his deep eyes and thick eyebrows that made him stand out despite no one else being there.

He was nowhere near as fit as the heroes you surrounded yourself with. However, the black t-shirt he had on shaped his form in a quite flattering way.

You stopped your eyes from wandering lower and you instead looked at his surroundings. He was currently tinkering with something, but you weren’t quite sure what it was. On a mannequin behind him was your hero costume, laying limply across the much too small body.

“Yeah,” He casually replied, the smile forming on his lips was kind, inviting, and yet held a mysteriousness that you couldn’t decipher. “Are you Y/L/N-san?” His voice was soft.

You gulped down and nodded, stepping further into the room.

“Perfect,” He took off the thick gloves that covered your hands and wiped the soot off them with a white cloth he kept tucked into his pants. He then held out his now clean hand to shake your own.

You gently took his own, his calloused hands sending shivers up your spine.

Why do I feel so calm and yet so nervous? You questioned as you forced yourself to smile.

“Shall we get started?” He asked.

“Sure!” You excitedly agreed.

Iwasaki immediately moved to the mannequin and unzipped your uniform. Gently, he handed you the fabric. “You can go into that room there to change,” He explained, pointing to a door on the other side of the classroom. “I’ll pull out all the extra items while you change.

You entered the small room to see that it looked quite like a typical changing room. A small ledge to sit on or hold items, a body-length mirror, and a few hooks to hold items.

The tight bodysuit was a deep blue that looked almost black. Sort of like Kou’s hair, you thought as you pulled it on. Throughout the suit were detailed of neon yellow. As Kobayashi explained to you before, the details were the only stylist and were a way to incorporate your family’s colors without being too cheesy. The arms of the suit stopped just after your shoulder to allow for mobility. The legs, additionally, stopped quickly. You had a small metal waist set that could hold swords and expand to protect vital organs. Your pants stopped midthigh.

You remember specifically telling Kobayashi-san that you wanted skin exposed so you could use your quirk when people touch you, without having a hard to manage skirt.

Once you zipped up your suit, you made your way back into the main classroom.

Iwasaki smiled at you once he saw you.

He was currently surrounded by a variety of dark blues and neon yellows that stood out at all your support items.

He handed you the boots to your suit first.

“I tinkered with the boots a bit, but you shouldn’t notice much difference,” Iwasaki explained. “I was just trying to make them lighter.”

You nodded and you took your time to attach them. The boots stopped under your calf, but straps ran up your leg to attach to a knee cap.

“I’m sure Kobayashi-sensei told you, but the straps are to help prevent injuries from any awkward movements or excessive running. The boots and straps will help you to run faster, but it won’t be by too much so you can get used to the boost. If you want, you can also attach weights to them while you train so that you move faster in the field with the weights off.” He paused for a moment before adding, “Oh and the blade feature on your other boots is the same with these.”

You silently nodded, much too focused on putting everything on correctly.

You then attached the compact shoulder pads to your costume.

You the attached metal cuffs to your wrist that you also assembled to help prevent injuries on your hands or arms. It would also help add weight and power to any punches you would have to throw.

Last but certainly not least were your ear and eye protectors.

Kobayashi brilliantly designed your ear attachments with three different functions. When needed, you could use the ear attachments like your earbuds and prevent you from hearing thoughts. The second function was to increase your hearing distance. Although he was unable to increase your hearing distance for thoughts, he was able to help even out the differences. Now you could hear people from as far as 100 ft without needing to take out the earbuds that help prevent you from hearing thoughts. You were also able to zero in on certain sounds if needed. The final function was a simple Bluetooth addition in case you needed to communicate with other heroes on the field.

“Your ear attachments are cool, but I’m really excited to make them better for you,” Kou smiled calmly and brightly at you. “I want to make them perfect because half of your quirk is so based around your ears.”

Appreciatively, you smiled at the boy. “That’s very nice, thank you.”

Iwasaki sheepishly waved you off, “It’s my pleasure! I became a support student for a reason. If I’m able to figure anything out, I might even make it my final analysis and creation project.”

“Are you a third-year?” You asked.

“Yeah,” The boy blushed lightly and scratched at the back of his head, “I am.”

You simply nodded before attaching the shield to your earpiece that protected your eyes.

You then moved over to look at yourself in the full-body mirror.

I look amazing.

“You like it?” Iwasaki asked, interrupting yourself from going on an analytical tangent for each piece of the costume.

“I love it,” You explained, smiling brightly at yourself.

“I’m glad,” He paused briefly. “I saw your original sketches and I was worried you would hate it. Kobayashi-sensei didn’t tell me how much you two collaborated together, so I didn’t know.

You nodded as you looked at the dark black dots on your left shoulder pad. It wasn’t too noticeable from far away, but you could see it up close against the dark blue.

“Yeah,” You started, “He basically lectured me in a face call and told me I needed to think more about my quirk and what would be best for me, rather than what I thought was cool.” You thought over your next words carefully, “I’m still glad a have a place for my swords. And I have my own black shoulder strap for my biggest sword.”

“Thanks,” Kou said, “I actually thought of the metal sword holder and shield expansion feature.”

“Really?” You inquired.

“Yeah,” He ensured, a smile brightening up his face. “But you should also show me the shoulder strap. Maybe I can make it better or make a new one that will help with weight and comfort.”

“You wouldn’t mind?”

“You seem to keep forgetting this is literally my job,” He laughed. It sounded beautiful. “My third year is all about helping students and only asking my professors or intern leader for help when I need it.”

You nodded in understanding before adding. “Maybe I will. I’ll make sure to email you about it.”

“Of course,” Kou agreed. “And do you have any other adjustments you want now?”

“No, not really,” You explained, a bright smile plastered across your face.

“Then I guess you are all set if you want to change back,” Iwasaki spoke while slipping on his gloves again.

“Perfect, I’ll be right back then.” You grabbed your suitcase and went back into the small changing room to take off all your support items and costume. When done, you stepped back out, bid Kou a farewell, and left.

You walked back to the dorm with your suitcase, a little bit happier than you expected. The costume fit perfectly at this point, and you were excited to move forward with OOO in all other possible upgrades you could make. Although it wasn’t what you initially envisioned and sketched out when you first met Kobayashi, all the changes he made, with your approval, made the costume much better and more modern.

You reminisced about your first meeting with the designer, where he asked you what kind of hero you wanted to be, a sentiment that OOO was clearly upholding.

After discovery and debate, the new costume that was drawn up fit you much better than you could expect.

It wasn’t until you got back to the dorm that the pit in your stomach reared its ugly head.

The first thing you saw when you opened the large door was a sleepy Bakugou, clearly just woken up.

He was yawning, a small cup of coffee in his hands, and his hair seemed to be more of a mess than usual.

Once he opened his eyes again, he immediately found your own eyes. Although the living room and dining table were crowded with about five other people, he immediately made his way to you.

“You got your hero costume?” He asked. There wasn’t any malicious tinge to his voice, but the gruff sound of his natural voice mixed with the deepness from just waking up made your stomach queasy.

You had half a mind to just run into the bathroom and make yourself puke. However, you swallowed your nerves and nodded, hoping you didn’t look like too much of a fool.

“Maybe we should wear our costumes for our training today,” He smirked at your before eyeing your suitcase that had the number 21 printed on it. “I have a few support items I would love to try out on you.”

The idea sent a shiver up your spine, something that wouldn’t normally happen. Bakugou makes me way too nervous, you thought as you debated over what to make next. In hope of lightening up to conversation a little bit, you asked, “Oh, did Iwasaki make new support items for you too?”

“Iwasaki?” Bakugou spat back, obviously offended. “Not only would I never let that weirdo touch my equipment, but I’m also offended you didn’t realize I made them myself.”

“Iwasaki isn’t weird,” You countered, practically laughing. “He was so nice!”

Bakugou scoffed and looked away from you. “Whatever, I would just rather tinker with my own shit than have him do it. He seems too perfect, that smile of his is so weird.”

Despite still being nervous about the fight, you found yourself laughing at Bakugou’s explanation. “Too perfect?” You spoke in-between laughs. “You really can be funny sometimes, Bakugou—”

You stopped yourself from using an honorific. Not sure if he would prefer a more formal ‘san’ or a friendlier ‘kun’.

Although he clearly noticed your pause and debate on which one to use, he simply glossed over it and replied with an “I am not funny! I am being serious!” The blond groaned in frustration before adding. “You know what? Let’s wear our costumes, and we will actually see how well Iwa-shitty did.”

“Iwasaki barely did anything to my costume,” You reasoned, “He only adjusted a few things, the work is still mostly Kobayashi-san’s.”

“Whatever,” He gruffly replied, “Just bring your damn suitcase so we can change in the lockers beforehand.”

“Whatever your say, Bakugou,” You replied, quietly laughing to yourself at his small and childish fit.

The blond walked away from you without another word, leaving you by yourself with some free time.

The first thing you did was make your way to the kitchen to prepare yourself something to eat. Since it was approaching lunchtime anyway, Iida and Uraraka we currently preparing themselves some food.

“No internship today?” You asked them, remembering seeing each of them go out to internships before.

“Nope!” Uraraka gingerly explained, “We aren’t allowed to have internships on Saturday and Sunday because they want us to have enough time for school.”

“Today is our day off,” Iida added as you watched him mix something in a small, Styrofoam container.

When you got closer, a rank and vile smelled filled your nose. You immediately knew it was coming from the container and backed up while covering your nose.

You had no intention to insult their food preferences, especially because you weren’t from here, but Uraraka immediately noticed your reaction and laughed.

“You’ve never seen natto?” She asked.

You shook your head, not wanting to speak in fear that you would get a bigger sniff of the food.

Iida looked back to see your face. “Sorry,” He spoke.

“No! Don’t worry!” You replied, wanting to be as nice as you could.

Uraraka laughed again. “Natto is fermented soybeans. It might smell weird and the texture is slimy, but it tastes so good in rice, especially with mustard and fish sauce.”

You nodded while peaking over to get a look at the slimy brown beans.

“Do you want to try it?” Iida asked you, turning so you could see his portion of rice and beans.

“Umm,” You mumbled, not sure what to say. You didn’t want to take his food, and you definitely didn’t know if you would like it.

“You should,” Uraraka encouraged. “We can give you just a bit to taste.” She pulled out a bowl from the cabinet and scooped a little of her portion into the bowl. “Even if you don’t like it, you’ll have to get used to it. It’s a cheap, easy, and healthy meal so everyone here eats it often.”

Hesitantly, you grabbed the small bowl and chopsticks she offered you.

“Don’t smell it, “Iida began “Just eat it.”

Listening to Iida, you stopped yourself from smelling the bowl and shoved it into your mouth. Despite 80% of the dish being rice only, the flavor of the natto was most prevalent. You chewed quickly, not sure if it was the type of dish to savor.

You closed your eyes, swallowed the bite, and looked back to your two classmates.

“It looked like you hated it,” Uraraka laughed while munching on her own bowl.

“No,” You countered, “It’s okay. I’m just not used to it.” You got the rest of the rice and bean in-between your chopsticks and finished your bowl. “Thank you for letting my try.”

“No problem,” Iida and Uraraka replied together before they took their leave from the kitchen to seat at the large dining table.

You then scoured the fridge and cupboards for a suitable lunch and settled on fried rice leftovers from dinner the night before. You heated up a bowl and took it upstairs to eat.

Time passed slowly as you worked on homework and had videos playing in the background. Eventually, then the clock read 10 to 3:00pm, you got up from your seat and changed into comfortable workout clothes. You grabbed your suitcase, a large water container, and two different swords before making your way downstairs.

When you got to the front door, Bakugou was already waiting, dressed in comfortable workout clothes. His own suitcase was in his hand as well as two large looking grenades and water.

You didn’t bother even asking what the grenades were for as Bakugou simply waited for you to slip on other shoes.

You followed Bakugou out the door silently. “We’ll start with stretches and then change into our costumes,” Bakugou explained. “I rented out a fourth of the cityscape so we will have plenty of room to move around.”

“Okay,” You replied, “Although I might need some time to warm up with my hero costume because it just got finished today.”

“It can’t be that different, can it?” Bakugou inquired.

“It’s completely different, “You explained. “My older hero uniform was so ugly; it didn’t help my quirk at all and just matched with my family’s theme.”

“Your family has a theme?” He questioned while barking out a laugh. “That’s so cringy.”

“Yeah,” You mumbled, “But it is important to my mom and common in the United States.”

Bakugou simply hummed in response and he brought you to a small field. It was right next to the building that held changing rooms, making it ideal for your short warm-up.

“Do you want to warm up together?” You asked him.

“It’s up to you,” Bakugou replied before setting down his things and beginning his warm-up. It mainly consisted of basic stretches every person typically does.

Following his lead, you dropped your belongings to the side and moved to take off your earbuds.

“You’re taking them off now,” Bakugou asked.

You turned to see him looking at you and replied, “Yeah, is that a problem?”

“Uhh,” Bakugou fumbled, “No, I guess not.”

Ignoring his weird comment, you simply put away the earbuds. I’ll just hear any weird thoughts he has anyway.

What first filled your mind, however, was Bakugou thinking:

Don’t think weird thoughts, don’t think weird thoughts.

You couldn’t stop yourself from laughing at his thoughts which immediately drew his attention.

“What?” He spat out.

“Nothing,” You replied after your laughter died down. I don’t need to tell him about how weird he is being, you told yourself and you began your own stretch routine.

You also needed to warm up your quirk, something you did by focusing on different thoughts around you. Because Bakugou was so close to you, his thoughts we most noticeable. However, it was important to see how far you could take your quirk, so you focused as best your could on different thoughts from people different distances away.

Eventually, when your body felt nice and stretched, you wanted to move on to a jog. After letting Bakugou know, you jogged a few laps around the field while he sprinted to build up a sweat.

Once ready, you made your way into the changing rooms with all your belongings. Bakugou followed shortly behind you.

The second you put it on, you could feel the differences in your hero costume. You felt lighter despite having more on. You took a small lap around the locker room to test your speed. You then tested your earpieces that covered your ears completely. Once satisfied, you attached a dagger to the metal plate around your waist. You brought your largest and heaviest sword today. First, to test out how it works with your costume so you could bring it to Kou with any needed adjustments, and two, to intimidate Bakugou.

No one in your class yet had seen your work with knives, daggers, and swords, making it a surprising advantage if need be. You took another moment to stretch in your hero uniform before exiting the room and meeting back up with Bakugou who was facing away from you and stretching.

Immediately, your eyes found him and stared at his hero costume. It was mainly black, with touches of orange and green. From the first view, it was scary. However, you noticed intricate pieces that made it seem detailed and well thought out. However, what was most interesting to you was how it fit on him.

You would hit yourself if you weren’t so distracted ogling his free arms. They looked much bigger than you had ever seen on him. And yet, they also seemed like the perfect size. He must do a lot of weightlifting, you thought as your eyes then traveled to his waist. It was covered in black cloth, making it impossible to see his abs, but his thin waist was enough to see.

He looks so hot, your thoughts. You were unable to place every piece of his hero costume that made him this attractive, but his arms and waist were the main ones. You gulped down the lump in your throat as you watched him bend over to touch his toes

“Holy shit,” You accidentally spoke aloud.

Immediately, the blond shot up and turned to look at you. “What did you s—?” He began to question before stopping halfway through.

Holy shit, his thoughts similarly echoed yours.

You looked down, very aware that your cheeks were flaring a deep red. Although it definitely boosted your ego to hear him react to your costume like that, it sent waves of anxiety through you. He knows I can hear his thoughts. Why isn’t he stopping himself, you questioned as he thoughtfully admired the way your leg straps hugged your bare thighs.

“Are you ready?” You asked, breaking the thick silence, and hoping to distract him.

You weren’t sure how to feel. On one hand, it felt amazing to hear his thoughts. It was clear he found you attractive. However, that did not mean he liked you as more than a friend, classmate, or whatever he actually thought. You nervously shuffled from one foot to the other and Bakugou shook his head.

You fucking creep, he thought.

“Yeah,” He mumbled. His voice was raspy, and he immediately grabbed his water from the ground and chugged a good portion. He then picked up all his items and you silently followed him to the cityscape.

Both of you were stuck in your own thoughts. You debated whether or not this situation was a good thing or a bad thing. I’ll definitely have to talk to Ashido and Hagakure later. And Bakugou was currently wondering over if you heard him.

What are those things are her ears? Can she hear me with them? Maybe she can’t… I could ask her what they are. No, that’s too obvious!

“So,” You eventually began after Bakugou signed in on a sheet of paper that hung at the entrance of the cityscape. “Are you wanting to do a ruled match? Or are you wanting to do a bad guy versus good guy things?” You were trying to break the awkward silence, hoping that fighting would distract you both from the nerves you were feeling.

“A match,” He simply replied. His voice wavered more than it typically would, however, it evened out more and more as he continued to talk. “It will end when the other person admits defeat or is too injured to play.”

“Oof, that sounds intense,” You jokingly replied. You needed to give this match your all. Bakugou was a competitor and should be treated as a stepping stone for you to improve your quirk usage. Hopefully, Bakugou's thoughts and actions were slow enough for you to interpret and prevent them. That would be the key factor in who won today.

Bakugou laughed in response. The typical bark of a laugh that you had become too quickly acquainted to. “Yeah, well you better be ready.”

You two took your time making it to your designated area and choosing a spot to store your suitcases and waters. Once done, Bakugou put on the grenades he had been carrying onto his forearms.

“What do those do?” You innocently asked.

“I’m not telling you, they’re a surprise for later.”

Similarly, to how Bakugou would, you scoffed at his reply. “That was so cringy,” You added.

In response, Bakugou rolled his eyes and let out a simple, “Whatever.”

You genuinely smiled while you watch him finish securing the large grenades to his forearms.

I wonder what his first attacks will be, you thought. Those grenades can’t be his first attack. It must be something that builds up energy. Smirking, you thought of a way to make his motives clear.

“What’s your first attack against me going to be?” You asked him.

The blond whipped his head around and looked at you with squinted eyes. “Like I would ever tell you.” Don’t think about how you plan to worsen her hearing, you heard him think.

You tried your best not to react to him revealing his thoughts and simply frowned. “I guess it was worth a try.”

Bakugou didn’t bother replying and simply faced you. “Ready?” He asked as he cracked his knuckles and neck.

You simply shrugged, trying your best to look casual. I need to get away from him before he can explode out my eardrums. “Ready as I’ll ever be,” You nonchalantly responded.

You waited for a beat, just enough time to move before Bakugou. Luckily, the straps on your legs helped greatly to increase your speed. It made you feel lighter and helped smooth out your movements enough to save a decent amount of time. You were out of Bakugou’s eyesight in a flash, leaving him baffled. She’s faster than I remember. By the time he recovered enough to chase after you, you had turn multiple corners and climbed up a fire escape attached to one of the skyscrapers.

Bakugou launched himself into the sky to move faster He was clearly looking to attack quickly instead of surprise you. You used the sharp and retractable blades attached to your shoes to smash a window, timing the shattering glass sounds to the sound of his explosions.

You moved into the building, hoping he would be unable to see the shattered glass with him moving so quickly. Inside the building, you drew your dagger, just in case he found you. I’ll throw it at him if need be, you thought and you began moving higher and higher up the floors.

As Bakugou soared through the sky, he found himself analyzing the ground more than anything else. After searching a decent distance, he realized something must be off. She can’t be on the ground if I can see her from here, you hear him think. He then landed on one of the taller buildings and looked around.

I didn’t see any climbing materials on her costume unless those straps are detachable? Bakugou thought over each piece of your costume, noting whether or not they could be used to climb up buildings. He began jumping from building to building, looking for a signal.

And that’s when he saw it.

Shattered glass on the grated ground of a fire escape, teetering from side to side as if recently moved and threatening to fall a floor below.

Excitedly, Bakugou pounced on the building and peered into the room. She isn’t on this floor anymore, he noted while debating to go down or up. I’ll find you soon, he thought as he searched below first. It took him approximately 10 seconds to realize you didn’t move lower down the building. He quickly moved higher and higher, searching through the windows on each floor in hopes of seeing a flash of dark blue and yellow.

She must be on the staircase, he thought after being unable to find you. That’s the only place without windows, he reasoned before debating whether to move into the staircase himself or go to the roof where he presumed you were going to be.

His thoughts were clear to you and did not affect your plan in the slightest. With ease, you made your way to the roof. You didn’t want to tire yourself out too much. You opened the clunky door only to be hit with a gust of wind. This school must be rich to be able to simulate gusts of wind, you thought as you spotted the large fans that were scattered across the walls of this cityscape.

You perched yourself on the metal box that was warm enough to help against the wind.

Now it is just a waiting game, you thought as you simply listened to Bakugou’s thoughts.

Eventually, and predictably, he showed up through the same door you came into. You had positioned yourself behind where he would show up so he initially didn’t see you.

Quietly, you looked around the small building and watched as he peered across the sky.

There’s no way she could have gotten off from here unless she climbed down.

You put away your dagger and de-sheathed your large sword. It was chunky and sharp with a wide and heavy handle to keep it sturdy. Before Bakugou could turn or hear you, you pushed forward and kicked the blond with the bottom of your heavy boot.

He stumbled but did not fall to the floor. You held up your sword, using it to extend your arm. As soon as Bakugou turned to look at you, his neck was greeted by the sharp sword only inches away. He didn’t move for a moment, but quickly recovered and sent a blast your way. Now within a small distance, he sent off multiple small explosions. Not only did you cower to get away from his explosion, but the small explosions made it difficult to hear his thoughts.

You pushed forward despite your nerves to the boy and used the flat edge of your sword to hit him. Not sharp enough to harm him, but still a force to be reckoned with. Additionally, the thin sharp edge that was intended for use may seep in enough from the pressure to give him a small cut.

He shot back instantly, and a small amount of blood dripped from his arm. He was breathing heavily, as were you. Although he was not attacking in this moment, he still set off explosions to impede upon your quirk. You didn’t know Bakugou’s fighting style well, but you knew enough. From what you were able to pick up, you knew he intended to go for hand-to-hand combat.

Idiot, you thought while widening your stance and bending at the kneed to prepare yourself. The 50-foot distance between the two of you closed quickly as he pounced on you. Smoothly, you were able to dodge and keep a good distance with your sword and sharp blades on your shoes.

“You really should listen to my mom’s defensive lectures,” You commented. “Playing an offensive role will only get you so far.” You mocked him, watching his eyebrows turn down in anger and his thoughts rush with the idea of just fucking hit her.

You moved out of the way for each of his attacks, only feeling the heat of an explosion or the brush of his fingertips.

When the time was right, you held your sword with only one hand and pushed forward to grab onto his arm. You twisted it before he could react to make sure he could not send an explosion your way. Currently, you were positioned so your right hand held onto his left forearm. His body was twisted so his back was to your right shoulder. The blond twisted his head to look at you and continued to send off explosions to hopefully distract you.

With every explosion, you felt a pulse through his veins, and you held tightly. He groaned in pain at the action, making you realize that his wrist was a weak spot for him. “Oh, so do you have these protect your forearms and wrists?” You asked, gesturing to the large grenades.

His emotions and thoughts made his arms clear. Not just that, you idiot.

“I am not an idiot,” You replied, feigning offense.

Bakugou scoffed in reply and you laughed back at him.

“I’m winning right now, you know?” You spat back, “I wouldn’t scoff at me when I could end this battle right here.”

“Oh yeah?” Bakugou encouraged, “How?”

“Like this…sleep.” You immediately put him to sleep, something he wasn’t expected. You could tell from his thoughts that he wasn’t thinking much about this part of your quirk. Once asleep, you thought over what to do next.

You dragged his heavy body to the edge of the building, wondering if he would wake up in time to save himself if you threw him off.

I don’t think I should risk it, you thought.

Sighing, you pulled him away from the roof, pushed him farther into sleep and let go. You sat down on the ledge and waited a few minutes for the blond to wake up. You pat yourself on the back for getting him to sleep for so long and casually waited for the time to end.

It took a total of 15 minutes for the blond to finally beginning rising. Another minute for him to realize where he was. He looked up at you with a quizzical face.

“If this wasn’t training and you were a real villain, I would have thrown you off this building,” You explained. “I think I win.”

“Like hell you do,” Bakugou groggily replied while getting up. He moved into a fighting stance and you stayed put. “Are you going to get up?” He yelled at you.

You hummed, debating what to do next. “I don’t feel like it,” You replied, knowing full well how much it would irritate him.

“Then I’ll send you off the roof with an explosion,” He spat back.

“No,” You calmly replied, “I don’t think you will.”

“And why is that?” He asked.

You smirked at the boy. “Because,” You began while letting go of the ledge with your hands and leaning back, “Of this.” Once you finished those words, your body fell back and off the building. You positioned your body as safely as you could.

Obviously, this was a dangerous tactic. It was something you would never do in the field. However, you needed to have fun every now and then and Bakugou was so easy to tease. You knew he had a fast enough reaction time to get you. That was proved correct when you saw his body shoot off the side of the building.

Explosion after explosion was set off until you felt a strong arm wrap around your waist.

You looked down and saw you were about 10 feet to the ground. Bakugou reached out and grabbed onto a fire escape. “Jump down,” Bakugou spoke, his voice low.

His arm slipped away from you as you prepared yourself to fall to the ground. Your shoes, which could absorb shock, helped to make the jump easy and comfortable. Bakugou followed you, dropping a few feet away.

You stood silently as the blond stared at you before practically running up to you.

“What is wrong with you?” He demanded while holding onto your arms and shaking you.

Because of the large gloves on his hands, you weren’t able to feel his emotions. However, you were fairly certain he was worried.

You felt bad.

You felt really bad.

His eyes held more worry than you had seen from him and his thoughts had been rushing so much during these past thirty seconds that it gave you a headache. You were sure he had one too.

“I’m sorry,” You bashfully replied. “I wanted to shock you.”

“Yeah, well you did that perfectly,” He replied. He groaned while looking over your body, wanting to see if you got hurt.

“I’m not hurt,” You mumbled, pulling away from him because of how nervous his staring made you feel.

He reluctantly let go of you and let you step away.

“I didn’t mean to worry you so much,” You commented, stopping there because you weren’t sure whether or not to say sorry. That might be too far, you thought.

Bakugou stiffened immediately. It was clear those words made him nervous.

Worry? You heard him think. Fuck, I am worried. I shouldn’t be worried. I shouldn’t be worried. But I am.

Bakugou scoffed, “I have to worry for stupid idiots like you.” Why am I so worried about her? I wouldn’t be this worried about anyone else.

You simply nodded, not wanting to remind him that you could hear his thoughts. “So,” You began after a short pause, “Are we done for today?”

“After the heart attack you gave me today?” He rhetorically questioned, “Yeah, we are done for today.”

Once again, you nodded and followed Bakugou as he began walking to where you left your bags.

“Next time,” He began as your items came into sight, “Let’s just rent out part of the gym and work on hand-to-hand combat. That way,” He turned to look at you, “You can’t pull any dumb tricks.” He paused for a moment, “Also so you don’t fucking cut me with your sword again.”

“Oh!” You exclaimed, moving closer to the blond to look at his cut. “I forgot!”

Once you got to your item, you opened your suitcase and pulled out rubbing alcohol, a couple of band aids, and a Japanese brand for Neosporin.

“Here,” You began, showing the small first aid kit, “Let me clean it.”

Bakugou reluctantly sat down and allowed you to scoot close to him. You rinsed your hands off by pouring some of your water onto them before grabbing a cotton ball and also putting water onto it. You used the wet cotton ball to clean the blood around the cut, some of it was already dry. You then took another cotton ball and put a small amount of alcohol onto it.

Carefully, you ran the cotton ball over the small cut on his arm. Bakugou took a sharp breath in because of the stinging but stayed still as you cleaned it. You pulled it away and looked up at the blond. Your hands had been holding your arm still, allowing you to feel just how nervous he was.

Unfortunately, because of your quirk, you felt the exact same feelings as him. You tried your best to resist any obvious reactions and let go of his arm, so you were no longer being bombarded with nervousness.

When you looked up at him, you saw pink on his cheeks, and you weren’t sure if it was from the training or the anxiety he felt as you took care of him. Additionally, you were fairly certain you also had a blush because of your empathetic abilities. He looked into your eyes for a moment before you tore your own away and went to grab the ointment.

Cautiously, you spread a small amount onto the cut. You then took a few band-aids and spread them across his arms to cover the wound.

“Thanks,” Bakugou quietly spoke once you finished and started putting away the items.

“No problem,” You simply replied before grabbing your water and taking a swig.

Silently, the two of you grabbed your things and made your way to the lockers. The school provided showers in the locker room and well as all the necessary toiletries to help prevent kids from easily stinking up their dorms. Considering your run today and all the hard work you did, you decided a shower before going back to the dorms would be best.

“You don’t have to wait up for me,” You spoke as you two arrived at the lockers. “I’m going to shower.”

Bakugou hummed in response and entered his respective room. You casually and efficiently changed, washed your body, and put on your workout clothes again. They weren’t smelly from only stretching so it wasn’t bad to wear them.

You pushed your dry hair back, put in your earbuds, and grabbed all your things to make your way out of the locker room.

When you exited, you immediately saw Bakugou, who was leaning against a rail on his phone. His items were placed next to him and his left hand was shoved into the pocket of his sweatpants.

“Took you long enough,” He mumbled while looking at you. “You didn’t even wash your hair, what took you forever?”

“I told you not to wait for me,” You replied, “It is your fault for waiting.”

Bakugou scoffed and grabbed his things. “Whatever,” He mumbled before beginning to walk back to the dorms. “I wanted to talk to you about dinner tomorrow,” He explained, “And I didn’t want to text your later.”

“Wow,” You replied in a dry voice, “You sure do know how to make someone feel special.”

“Shut up idiot,” He spat back. You could once again see pink on his cheeks but chose to ignore it. “Anyways,” He began again, “Meet me in the kitchen at four. Sero will be there at five. I want to see how well you can cook.”

“What are we making?” You asked.

“Rice with umeboshi, miso soup, salad, some other shit,” Bakugou replied. “It’s a lot. I know in America that dishes aren’t broken up as much so I will show you everything tomorrow.”

You nodded, “Thanks. I appreciate you trying to help teach me.”

“Yeah, well I will kick you out just as fast if you suck,” He replied.

You looked to Bakugou and saw the teasing smirk on his face. You laughed at his comment which was soon followed by a few snickers from the blond himself.

By the time you and Bakugou arrived home, the conversation died down. Silently, the two of you filled up your waters and walked upstairs to your respective rooms.

“See ya,” Bakugou lazily spoke before heading into his own room and leaving you to yourself.

125 notes · View notes

voiceless-terror · 4 years ago

Note

Perhaps the "stop moving!" Prompt for Jon, where he's been kidnapped by yet another avatar group and they're trying to subdue him but he's fighting too much so they break something like his leg or wrist to make him stop 👀

Hello! I’ve been thinking about this prompt for a while, and I decided to set this during the Circus kidnapping (hope you don’t mind!) and tackled it with another prompt, this one by @give-me-a-minute-to-think who asked for “ a post-circus-kidnapped fic. like, how martin and timdiscover jon was kidnaped and their reaction (espically tims.) we see in canon martin addressing that fact, but not literally anyone else. i just want some complicated relatinship and tim to be nice to jon even a little.” Hope you two enjoy!

Jon’s pretty sure bones weren’t meant to bend that way.

It was his fault, really. He shouldn’t have put up a struggle. He should’ve realized the futility of his situation and yielded to the rough, unfamiliar hands forcing him into the van. But Jon’s nothing if not stubborn, so a few flailing arms and weak kicks were to be expected. And the retaliation, of course, should’ve also been expected.

“Stop movin’,” came the gruff voice of the delivery man, with a face so nondescript Jon could forget it if he looked away for only a second. He gives one last weak slap to the hands on his body. Wrong move.

A sickening crack could be heard along with a sharp cry- Jon’s cry, because the pain currently emanating from his one good wrist is white-hot and agonizing. His eyes are blurring and the inside of the van is stifling in its darkness, but even he could see that hands and wrists weren’t supposed to look like this. He bites back the nausea and sags back into the rough hands, rendered frozen by the pain. There’s a chuckle, low and sinister, and one of the men begins to whistle the tune from the calliope.

And then his arms are yanked behind his back and the pain reaches a dizzying crescendo as his body decides it’s had enough, and sinks into oblivion.

_______

He spends his days being touched.

Cold hands and a face with a permanent smile. Sometimes there’s more of them, as if he’s a spectacle to be watched and studied. The Strangers like to learn about bodies, foreign as they are to them. Nikola enjoys narrating the process, poking and prodding at the bruises and burns and the strange, twisted hands. He doesn’t bite back his gasps and whimpers, he’s gagged, but Nikola likes to hear them. Likes to hear the wordless grumble of his voice, rendered mute and unintelligible.

The weeks go by, he loses hope. He’s not there much anymore, he’s somewhere else, a place where the pain can’t reach him. He’s back in Georgie’s apartment, the Admiral purring in his lap. He’s back in Research with a smiling Tim and a woman he imagines to be Sasha. He even thinks back to Martin’s lunches a few months ago with a sort of fondness. People talked to him, people cared. People worried when he was gone.

Every once in a while, his daydreams are interrupted by the sting of bones knitting together wrong or the itching flare of infected tissue. He starts to think of his eventual skinning as a sort of blessing in disguise; Lord knows he’s wanted to scratch himself out of it more than once. He just wishes they would hurry it up, not draw it out so much. Shouldn’t he be ready by now?

And then Michael comes. He feels a strange, manic strength return to him at the promise of a story, even if it ends in his own demise. I want to know. Tell me, tell me. The Eye’s gaze doesn’t reach him, but the power it’s planted within him grows. By the end, he feels strong enough to reach for the door handle himself, ignoring the pain that raising his arm causes.

It’s locked. His one salvation is gone. But then Michael is too, and Helen gives him a different sort of hope. One that lands him directly in Elias’s office.

His injuries are ignored in favor of a more pressing threat- Melanie. The only thing that keeps him standing and lucid is the remaining strength he siphoned from Michael’s statement. But it’s an empty, sickening vigor, one that’s sure to leave him feeling more drained than ever once it fades. Elias says nothing as he stumbles after Melanie with a limping pace, arriving some five minutes after her. She’s sitting at her desk, silently steaming when Jon makes his way in the office, leaning heavily against the doorframe.

“Jon!” Martin’s bright voice pipes up. “You’re back! We were wondering…” His voice trails off as he takes in Jon’s appearance, dirty and gaunt and yet shining with a strange sheen. A thousand showers won’t erase the feeling of those cold, slimy hands on him, Jon knows. Tim’s head pops up from his desk and even he looks a bit concerned; it’s the most positive feeling he’s shown Jon in ages.

“He was kidnapped, apparently,” Melanie drawls, and Jon doesn’t take her ambivalence to heart. She feels trapped like the rest of them. And Jon’s safe now, so what does it matter? What does any of this matter?

“K-Kidnapped?” Martin sputters, making his way over to his side. Jon flinches back unconsciously, gripping tightly at the wall and Martin stops in his tracks, his face softening. “We didn’t- nobody told us-”

“It’s fine,” Jon croaks, though they all know it isn’t. “It was- it was the Circus. A-And I’ll tell you about it-” he nods in Tim’s direction, seeing his wide-eyed stare out of the corner of his eye.”-as soon as I have a rest, if that’s alright.”

Martin casts a critical eye over him, his gaze coming to rest at the stiff way in which he holds his arms. “Seriously? I think you should go to the hospital, Jon. You look-”

“I’m fine now,” Jon assures him- he’d wave away the concern if he could lift his arm at all. “Just- just a moment, please.”

He limps to his office and they let him, their eyes reminding him of those curious mannequins and the way they stared and dissected him as if he were a cadaver on display. You’re not there anymore, he tries to reason as he collapses into his office chair. There’s a statement on his desk and he wonders if it was Elias or one of his assistants who placed it there, just waiting for him to come back. He’s so hungry.

But opening the file is agony. His burned hand cries out at any touch, and his crooked one doesn’t cooperate. Still, he forces the movement and the tape recorder clicks on for him, a move that usually chills him but now feels like a small mercy.

The words spill from his lips, natural and all-consuming. It doesn’t energize him as much as Michael’s direct account, but it certainly goes down easier, untainted by the jagged edges of the Spiral. He only realizes at the end that the statement was written in French, a language he doesn’t speak. Another development. Elias would be proud. Probably is, sitting up there in his office. And in perfect and non-coincidental timing, his email pings with a message from the man himself, informing him of his new flat, the keys to which are in his bottom drawer.

A new flat. How considerate. He tries not to think of the lonely, unprotected darkness that awaits him there. No Georgie. No Admiral. That’s probably for the best, he thinks. You wouldn’t want to endanger them.

Martin knocks, startling him out of his maudlin thoughts. He’s got tea and biscuits and Jon is struck by not only how much he missed the normalcy of the act, but how horribly hungry he is. For real food. He almost feels giddy with the realization.

“Thank you, Martin.” He’s rewarded with a tired smile and more questions. More apologies. He’s been reading statements. Jon worries about this, but Martin brushes it off. Jon keeps his arms resting on his lap, out of Martin’s sight. He gives non-answers to his inquiries and he can tell Martin’s frustrated- he only wants to help, but Jon won’t let him. They end the conversation at a strange but polite stalemate, a promise that there will be time for them to talk. He’s surprised Martin lets him go like this, but perhaps he’s realized what Jon already did all those weeks ago.

He’s beyond saving.

And then he’s gone again, back to that big room with those terrible waxworks and that strange, lilting tune and the faces that were wrong, the voices that were stolen. Everything echoed, even the tiniest of whimpers. And the laughter. He wants to curl up and make himself small, hide under the desk but his limbs are stiff and immovable, glued to his seat. His breaths start to come in small, tremulous gasps when another voice speaks up from the doorway.

“The Circus?”

Tim. Jon meets his eyes, attempting to get his emotions under control. You’re not there anymore. You’re back, you’re safe.

“A month you were gone,” Tim’s stomping over to his desk and Jon pushes his chair back, trying to create space but all Tim does is collapse into the chair across from him, heaving a sigh. He hasn’t sat there in ages. “Fuckin’ Elias. Where did they have you?”

Jon slumps in his seat, the tension in his frame somewhat easing. “It was a Wax Museum. I-I think that’s where they’ll be attempting the Unknowing.”

“That’s a lead, then.”

“Yeah,” Jon let out a weak chuckle. “At least something good came out of this.”

Tim’s eyes go dark. “Don’t joke about that.”

Jon nods, slightly taken aback by the fervor of the words. “S-Sorry.”

“What did you see? What happened?” He’s leaning forward now, his interest getting the best of him. Jon opens his mouth; he plans to answer- he could describe the waxworks, the van that took him away, the layout of his prison- but that’s not what comes out.

“They wouldn’t- they wouldn’t stop touching me,” he says, his voice fading to a whisper with each word. “Everyday. She came in and she smiled and she kept talking about my skin and touching me and I-I-” And once again he’s back there, cold hands on his face and mocking voices in his ear and it’s wrong, so wrong-

A hand rests on his shoulder and he rears back, an automatic response of revulsion as his heart stutters in his chest. But it’s not a smiling mannequin, it’s Tim. Tim, who’s kneeling by his chair so he doesn’t loom, whose hands are warm and real, flesh and blood. He’s staring down at Jon’s lap, where his arms lay crooked and burned and broken. Useless.

“They needed me to stop moving,” he whispers, as if it’s a valid explanation. Tim’s jaw is clenched. It’s a barely concealed rage and Jon feels guilty that it scares him so much. And yet, in spite of that anger, or perhaps because of it, he takes the hand from his shoulder, gentle and slow so Jon can see the path of his movements. He puts two fingers to the crooked arm, an impossibly soft movement as he leans in to inspect the damage.

And there’s no ulterior motive behind it. It’s just a touch, careful and concerned, probing lightly at his arm like he’s something fragile that Tim doesn’t want to break. He feels a tightness in his chest that for once doesn’t have fear as its source.

“I would’ve looked for you. If I’d have known.”

Tim says the words more to his lap than to him. And yes, he suspected that if Tim knew the Circus had him, he would’ve looked. But it wouldn’t have been for him. His presence would only be incidental. Tim’s staring at his arm as if the power of his gaze could knit it back together right and whole. His hand remains in place, and Jon wonders if it’s for Tim more than him. It’s as if he has to be reminded that Jon’s real, that he’s here.

“I need to tell you something.” The words are loaded with import. “But not now. Are you still staying with your friend?” Jon blinks at the change in subject.

“N-No. I have a new flat, but-”

“You shouldn’t be alone,” Tim’s suddenly all business, rising to his feet and looking down at Jon with a face that allowed for no argument. “Not with this Circus business. You can stay at mine, after you go to A&E. You’re not okay.”

Jon stares down at his lap, all fight leaving him. “I know.”

He lets Tim take control, lets him do that aggressive sort of care-taking he was known for in the earlier days of their friendship. It’s not the same; there’s no gentle words, no teasing but stern instruction. Just a silent tending that feels familiar all the same. Tim’s the one who speaks to the doctors, who listens to their instructions and later explains to Jon what’s going to have to be done in the coming days, as if he were a child. He knows it’s going to be bad, painful. But Tim keeps his voice level and Jon is somehow reassured. When they get to his flat and Jon’s warm and medicated and settled on the couch, he asks the question and Tim answers, his voice fluid and his words made eloquent in their grief. And Jon understands.

Tim doesn’t let him sleep on the couch. He’s curled up in the bed under a mountain of blankets and he pretends not to notice Tim standing in the doorway like some sort of sentinel.

“I would’ve looked.” He repeats the words as if trying to convince himself of their veracity. “If I’d have known.”

Jon closes his eyes and tries to believe him.

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28135263

#my writing #tma #the magnus archives #prompt fill #jonathan sims #tim stoker #martin blackwood #cw injuries #broken bones #angst #Anonymous

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thisisawonderfulusername · 4 years ago

Text

let's save the world

season one, episode four

five hargreeves x reader

summary: after the break in, five comes back with information, and you two go to check it out.

trigger warning: cursing, drinking, a fluffy moment 👉 👈

word count: 2.5k

a/n: damn, already part four O-O. i don’t really have much to say, so, enjoy!

after getting attacked by the commission assassins, you had gone up to five’s room and passed out on the bed, not even taking the time to clean or patch it up. you told yourself that it would be fine for the night, though there was a nagging voice in the back of your head, warning of the possible infection, but you inevitably pushed it away.

your morning wasn’t too great. you were shaken violently to be woken up, and you sat up quickly, hissing and grabbing onto your leg when you felt the pain the coursed through it. looking up at five, you glare at him. “what the fuck?”

“i take it you didn’t find any clues?” he questions, the smallest hint of a smirk on his face as you groan softly. of course he would do this. you knew it meant sitting in that van all day, he actually found something, and he was ready to rub it in.

leaning on your arm to reach for the med kit, you don’t meet his eyes. “no, i didn’t.” you mutter, opening the box and pulling out the supplies to finally patch up your leg. “i assume that you did?”

glancing at him as you doused a clean rag in rubbing alcohol, you raise an eyebrow. “yup.” he grins, and you roll your eyes, pulling your skirt up a bit to pull the make shift tourniquet off and reveal the wound from the glass that so rudely decided to cut through your flesh.

“how did that happen?” five questions, cringing slightly at the sight of the injury that you quickly placed the soaked rag over, biting your lip harshly to hold back the cries of pain from the stinging pain.

once the pain settled, you took a deep breath and looked to him. “long story. people, from the commission, i’m sure of it.” you threw the rag to the side, grabbing the needle and stitching thread, quickly putting it through and getting to suturing the puncture.

he watched as you stitched the wound, staying quiet for a moment, before he decided to speak again. “remember the guy we talked to? at meritech?” he asks, and you nod simply, eyebrows furrowed in concentration, “well, he’s definitely doing something sketchy. so we need to figure out what.”

you finish the stitches before throwing the needle to the side, looking back to him. “seriously? if this leads to another dead end, i’m going to kill you.” you grab some gauze and quickly wrap it around your leg, sighing softly as you toss everything back into the medical kit.

“i’ll deserve it if i am. but i’m sure of this.” he tells you, standing from the bed beside you and holding out his hand to help you up. it hurt a bit to stand on your leg from the pain, but you had endured worse, so you could suck it up.

waiting on the street, you leaned against a building, following five’s gaze and staring at one of the cars that lined the street. “how do you know he’s here?” you question, crossing your arms over your chest.

“i followed him, and when he went into the vet, i figured i had time to get you.” he responds, neither of you risking a glance away from the vehicle. “there he is.” he mutters as the man walks to his car, putting his dog in the backseat and getting in himself. five grabs your hand and the next moment you’re in the car, sitting by the dog.

smiling slightly as you give him a pat, your attention is brought back to the situation when the man turned and jumped at the sight of five right next to him. within a millisecond, a knife is held to his throat. “one chance.” he snaps at him, and you purse your lips, leaning forward in your seat. “you’ve got one chance to tell me what is going on in that lab.”

obviously terrified, since he was held at knife point, the man quickly speaks. “i manufacture prosthetics for fake patients.” his eyes are wide, staring straight into five’s, “i bill the insurance companies then sell them on the black market.”

resting an arm on the head rest of his seat, you lean towards him. “including eyeballs?” you press, and his gaze flickers towards you before back to five.

“yeah-” he stutters out, his head shaking slightly, “they’re my biggest seller. i’ve got a list- a wait list- probably twenty buyers!”

five nods, “so the serial number i told you?” he raises an eyebrow.

“yes, it- it could’ve already been bought.” he tells him, his breathing shaky.

as five stared into the guy’s eyes, you swore he could see into his soul, and though you had seen it multiple times, it still unsettled you. “i need that list, lance.” the knife pushes against his skin slightly, and he visibly flinches, “names and numbers, i need it now!”

“i don’t have it,” you can see his eye’s glossing, and you don’t blame him for being close to tears. “the only copy’s in my safe at the labs.” he quickly adds on, probably praying to himself that he wouldn’t die today.

smirking, you slap a hand on his arm, and he jumps at the sudden touch. “alright then, start the car, bud.” you lean back against the seats, petting the dog again. “we’re going on a trip.”

stopping the car just a street away from the building, all of you get out, you and five both holding onto lance’s arms to make sure he wouldn’t make a run for it. he could probably easily push you guys away, as you were practically thirteen years old, probably no muscle at all, but you assumed he was too afraid to even think about running.

as you rounded the corner, the building up ahead, your eyes widen. flames engulfed the lab, smoke pouring out of the windows. your heart practically stops. your only clue to go off of, was totally destroyed.

you could only stand in shock as lance slipped out of your grip after five ran forward, both of them looking up at the burning building. as five stood in front of the entrance, there was a sudden explosion, sending him flying back into the road.

that got you moving, quickly running to his side and crouching down next to him, ignoring the burn in your thigh. “holy shit, are you okay?” you question, slightly panicked, as it definitely wasn’t a simple fall to the ground. first of all, it was the middle of the road, concrete, and he had been knocked back pretty hard.

pushing himself up as he nods, five looks at the building. “there goes the only evidence we had.” he mutters, and you sigh softly.

standing up, you hold a hand out to him to help him up, which he gladly takes. “guess we better get to searching for another lead, then.” you glanced to the lab, pursing your lips at all the rubble that surrounded the entrance where it had exploded.

“i guess so.”

you sat on the floor of the library, the glass looking down at the lower floors behind your back. books surrounded the two of you, scattered around as you tried to search for any clues inside of them.

bottles of alcohol also surrounded you, which you guys weren’t holding back on. with your only piece of evidence gone, you were ready to give up and just let the world turn back to the rubble it had been when you first got stuck, as long as you didn’t have to be in it again. you didn’t know if you could handle that like you did the last time.

“you know, i thought we’d be able to figure this out faster.” five mumbles, breaking the silence between the two of you. his words were slightly slurred, from the alcohol. he sighs softly, flipping the page he had been reading to move on to the next.

taking a sip from the bottle you held, you lean your to the side to rest your head on his shoulder. “so did i.” your words are just as jumbled, maybe even worse. “but i guess the world is just... against us.” you close your eyes, feeling tired. you weren’t sure if it was from trying so hard and failing miserably, the alcohol, or actually being tired. you didn’t care.

five stayed quiet for a moment, his gaze still trapped on the book, until he glanced to you. “remember the first night? at griddy’s?” he questions softly, tracing the lip of the bottle with his finger as you nod. “you were saying something about how you felt when we were both separated in the apocalypse.”

you remembered that moment very clearly. even with a hazy mind. you had been preparing to tell him about the feelings you had had for him, before those guys crashed the party. you weren’t sure why you didn’t tell him after. probably slipped your mind after the big fight. “oh.” you sigh softly, eyes still closed as you thought, “yeah, i was just going to tell you that i used to like you. in more than a friend way.” you chuckle, sitting up and shaking your head.

“it’s so stupid.” you look at him, your head tilted to the side, “when we got stuck and i couldn’t find you, i felt like i lost the whole world- well, i guess i did, but not in the literal way.”

his eyebrow’s were furrowed at the information you gave him, probably processing it all. “you liked me?” he questions, a hint of confusion in his tone.

“well, yeah.” you take another drink from the bottle, frowning when there was only a tiny bit left. “i guess i stopped once i found out you went crazy and fell in love with a mannequin.” you laugh, motioning to the mannequin that he had brought along and sat between you two, looking up at the lights on the ceiling.

pursing his lips, five nods, humming in acknowledgment at what you said. “find anything that might help us?” he asks, and you groan, looking back to him.

“i don’t know if we ever will.” you felt like this whole mission was hopeless. you had been ready when the two of you first made it back, prepared to do whatever it took to keep the world safe, but now, all of that confidence and hope was gone. you were close to just giving up.

setting his now empty bottle down, five leans back against the glass. “maybe.” he mumbles softly, and another silence falls.

you don’t even realize when you fall asleep, slumped against his side.

when you wake up, it takes you a bit to feel the arms holding you up, your body bouncing slightly with each step they took. your eyes shot open, and you sigh in relief when you see that it’s just diego.

“it’s not secure.” you hear luther’s voice behind him, turning your head to see him walking behind with five in his arms. “those psychopaths could come back at any moment.”

“hey.” you mumble as your eyes fall closed again, and you groan as you feel your stomach churn. it probably wasn’t the best idea to drink that whole bottle, but your mind would clear up once it’s effect wore off a bit, and it would leave you with a killer headache. that was something to worry about later.

you hear five speak, but you can’t focus on his voice, only hearing fragments of what he says. something about puberty. and the end of the world. when he asks what they had been talking about, luther sighs. “two masked intruders attacked the academy last night.”

“they came looking for you!” diego says, the accusation clear.

sighing softly, you let your head hang, “hazel and cha-cha.” you inform him, words jumbled together, “assholes from the commission.”

“best of the best.” five adds on, chuckling, “other than us, of course.” you grin, nodding slightly.

both of the men seemed to be annoyed by your lack of genuine answers, but it’s what they get for thinking that questioning to drunks was a good idea. “the best of what?” luther urges, glaring at five.

“you know, delores always said she hates it when i drink.” five ignores the question, patting the plastic woman on the head as you groan loudly.

you grab onto diego’s arm slightly, “fucking delores. stop talking about her!” you pull yourself up a bit, looking at diego, “he’s in love with a fucking mannequin? can you believe it?” you grin, shaking your head and letting yourself fall back again.

“hey!” you jump as diego suddenly yelled, apparently down to his last straw of patience. “i need you guys to focus.” he stops in his tracks and turns so he could see five as well. “what do they want? this hazel and cha-cha.” his tone is firm, and you’re surprised he’s still expecting actual answers.

you see five’s amused grin and you laugh, but the two men don’t seem nearly as entertained. “we just want to protect you.” he adds on, tone a bit softer but still demanding.

five lets out a mocking laugh, and your grin is obvious. “protect us?” he derides, leaning forward in luther’s arms. “we don’t need your protection, diego. do you know how many people we’ve killed?”

“we’re the four fucking horsemen!” you laugh, throwing your arms up slightly, “the world is ending, and the apocalypse is coming. there’s nothing you can do to help.” you glare at him.

you hear five heave and throw up, and your nose scrunches up. “that’s fucking disgusting-” you can’t stop yourself from doing the same. both the men look at each other in irritation.

taglists

main: @horrorklaus

tua: none at the moment

five: @anapocalypseinmymind @five-hargreeves-official @insatiable-ivy @coffee-e-addict

let's save the world @aspiringwriter1 @thetrashypanda423 @lilacs-lavender @academy-umbrella

if you’d like to be added to any taglists, just ask!

#tua x reader #tua #umbrella academy x reader #umbrella academy #five hargreeves #five #five hargreeves x reader #five x reader #fanfiction series #fanfic #fanfiction #oneshots #fandom #reader insert #lstw #let's save the world

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snorlaxlovesme · 4 years ago

Text

wishing for a shadow

Did anyone ask for a fix-it fic that actually addressed how fucked up it was to make a 15 year-old girl fight naked?

We really don’t talk about Hagakure Toru enough. I know that invisibility is a pretty well-used superpower by now, but Toru has been invisible ALL HER LIFE, ALL THE TIME. There’s so much good story potential there and Horikoshi is like, let’s have her do peace signs in the back of class 1-A pictures sometimes or whatever.

So here’s 8k words of Hagakure actually having a personality and searching for a way to have a hero costume. Cheers!

(Content warning for nudity, obviously, and implications of nonconsensual groping due to the invisible nudity. Did I mention that fighting and rescuing people naked as a teenage girl is really fucked up?)

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

Toru hated her hero costume.

Or maybe it was fairer to say she hated her quirk. While everyone else had a special power that they could turn on and off at will, Toru had to deal with her quirk all. The. Time. And it was exhausting. Wearing special clothes on the train so she wouldn’t be sat on or shoved against a wall. Flicking on a designated lamp in her parent’s house so they’d know when she was home. Making just enough noise in class so that people remember she existed.

Being invisible had so many unnecessary drawbacks that early on in Toru’s life she decided there must have been a reason she was given this quirk. And maybe the reason was that she was meant to be a hero.

After all, it was the only real way to practically apply her quirk, wasn’t it? The choice was either to use her unique ability for good or fade into the background of her own life. So she chose to stand out, and what better way to do that than to apply to UA, the best hero school in all of Japan?

Newsflash: Hero school was hard. And even though no one could see them, coming back to the dorms every day covered in bruises and scrapes was not how Toru had planned to live out her teenage years.

What Toru really wanted was to be a normal girl. To go to the mall with her girl friends for make-overs and stay up way too late texting each other about which boy would ask them to the next school dance. She wanted to wear her hair in goofy styles and cry about zits and not worry about a building crushing her during her midterm exams. It was a simple dream, but Toru didn’t have a simple life. She’d thought by now she’d be over these silly fantasies, but when she saw her classmates’ modifications to their hero costumes the feeling hit her again before she could stuff it into that part inside of her where she kept her lost dreams.

Midoriya was testing out kicks at Ground Beta with his newly armored boots while Uraraka laughed a few feet in the air, marveling at her lack-of-queasiness from her new electromagnetic helmet. Toru stared forlornly at the new pair of gloves she’d received, with new colorful stitching. Her costume was….

Well, it wasn’t. The whole point of an invisibility quirk meant that she couldn’t wear a costume. It would kind of defeat the whole point then, wouldn’t it? To remain transparent, she couldn’t have any floating garments or gadgets attached to her body. Even the gloves themselves were technically a hindrance, but she needed some object to orient herself with her setting, otherwise her depth perception would suffer. It was a lot easier getting her bearings if she could tell whereabout her body was, and without her gloves she tended to move slower, not entirely sure where the rest of her body was while she moved.

Practically speaking, not having a costume for someone with a quirk like Toru’s made sense. Reasonably speaking—

“Oh! Hagakure-san, is that you?” Iida asked, embarrassed. She was lucky it was him who had run into her. His hero costume was made of bulky armor, so she doubted he felt it when he had brushed his arm against the side of her naked boob. She shrunk away.

“It’s not your fault, Iida-kun,” she said, hoping he could hear the smile in her voice and not the fakeness of it. “I’ll be more careful.”

It was hard, though. To be careful. The students of 1-A were gathered in a loose crowd in front of Aizawa-sensei, ready to hear what their mission was for today’s exercise. Toru was used to standing on the outskirts of groups to avoid being bumped into, but today she had gotten swept up in the middle. She held her gloved hands out at her sides, her default position to show everyone how much space she was taking up, but she still jumped when she felt Ojiro’s tail brush the small of her bare back. He flinched too, and sent an apologetic smile in her general direction, though nowhere near where her face actually was. She apologized again.

She hated her hero costume.

When class 1-A returned to the dorms, Toru made a beeline for her room, not that anyone noticed until her door slammed shut. She dug through her closet frantically until she found her warmest, fluffiest pink robe, and through it over her shivering body. She was so sick of this.

Aizawa-sensei was known as one of the toughest teachers of UA. He was also known for not playing favorites. But would it have killed him to warn her that they were doing underwater exercises today? While everyone else had at least some form of pants and a shirt to do their rescue dives in, Toru had to swim through the freezing-cold pool completely naked. It might have been an advantage if she didn’t have to spend most of her mental energy trying not to touch her rescue victim (Sato) with most of her body.

And coming out of the water? That was a treat. The water droplets that clung to her transparent body made her look like a sex-shop mannequin, perked nipples and all. She had no choice but to leave the training grounds immediately, nothing but wet footprints in the cement to prove she was even there to begin with. Toru waited until she had dried off before returning to class, making up a lie to Aizawa-sensei that she felt sick and hoping no one but Sato saw her dripping wet figure before she’d fled.

How come no one else had to deal with this? She’d tried to talk to Momo about it once, feeling like she of all people would understand Toru’s pain. After all, she had a quirk that required her to show a lot of skin as well. But ironically enough, Momo had responded that her quirk wasn’t so bad. And besides Mineta, all the other boys in their class were very respectful about not looking at her while she pulled back her hero costume to use her Creation quirk. Using it in public was hard, but certainly not impossible. Besides, Momo had pointed out, in the heat of hero-ing she barely had time to think about modesty. She was too focused on saving people.

Toru had left that conversation at that. Any further discussion would make her sound jaded, and that’s not the type of image she liked to project to the world. She didn’t have an actual image, so to others Toru’s attitude was all she had. So she kept quiet about how frustrating it was to have to constantly avoid being sexually harassed while saving people, all while hoping that others didn’t think she was sexually harassing them. Toru, the fifteen year old girl with a very unfortunate quirk, didn’t want to be made out to be a villain for something she simply could not help. But what was the right answer?

Toru searched the floor of her messy dorm room until she found a terry-cloth towel and then began to scrub her head with it, trying to dry off as quickly as possible and maybe just scrub the rest of this awful day off of her. The type of towel she was using would cause her hair to frizz (she watched enough beauty gurus online to know), but it made no difference to someone like Toru. The world didn’t know the incredible condition she normally kept her hair in.

Sometimes it felt like everything about her was a secret.

“Just hot soba again, Toru-chan?” Tsuyu asked her the following week at school as they grabbed their lunch trays. Even though her voice was even as she said it, Toru could tell there was concern in it. Even at lunchtime, Toru could always be found with either bread or a sweet on her tray. It had been quite a while since she’d eaten a red bean bun. She just wasn’t in the mood lately.

“Yeah, I’m just not very hungry today,” Toru told her friend, trying to sound chipper. She didn’t want to concern anyone, not in the least, but it was getting harder and harder to keep up her upbeat attitude when everything about her quirk just seemed to be bothering her lately.

Tsuyu nodded, though she didn’t look convinced. But thankfully she wasn’t the type to pry, so she led them to an empty table in the cafeteria. Toru sat across from Tsuyu and removed her face mask, a plain black one that she had bought online a few months back when she had hay fever. Lately she’d been feeling very self-conscious of people constantly talking to her chest, so she started wearing the mask to give people something on her face to focus on when they spoke to her.

She slurped her soba noodles in silence, not having much to say, when Midoriya and Todoroki passed by.

“Are these seats taken?” Todoroki asked. Toru glanced around to make sure they were talking about actual empty seats, not hers. But there were two vacant seats next to Tsuyu, who gestured to the boys that they could join them when she continued peeling an apple for herself.

“Have they bothered trying to see if Eri’s quirk would work on him?” Todoroki asked, continuing a conversation they must have started while getting their food.

Midoriya shrugged. “I haven’t asked lately. I think they’re still scared that Eri wouldn’t be able to control her quirk and would rewind him too far. She’s still so young.”

“When would be an appropriate age for her to finally use it on him, then?”

“Are you talking about Togata-senpai, ribbet?” Tsuyu asked.

Midoriya nodded, looking pained. “I don’t know, Todoroki-kun. He’s still coming to school, at least, but not full-time. Without his quirk he doesn’t have much use for the hero courses he was taking.”

Toru had vaguely heard about this from Tsuyu and Ochako. Apparently the third-year who had done a fight demonstration for class 1-A after the provisional exam was injured during the Shie Hassaikai raid. He’d been hit by one of the darts manufactured to take away people’s quirks while rescuing a child. Toru, in one of her darker moments, had selfishly wondered what would happen if she had gotten hit by a dart like that. Would all of her problems be solved? If her quirk was erased would she be visible? Could she finally live her life like a normal girl?

But then she had passed by the hospital wing shortly after, to get some bandages for Kaminari. Togata Mirio sat alone in a hospital bed with a bandage wrapped around his waist and the blankest expression she had ever seen on the normally-cheerful upperclassmen’s face. She was thankful for her quirk in the moment, so Togata didn’t have to see the shame written all over her.

The feeling still burned through her at the mention of his name, so Toru kept to herself as she ate her lunch, seamlessly blending with the background as she often did.

“Le Million isn’t gone just because Togata-senpai doesn’t have his quirk,” Tsuyu told the boys insightfully. “He’s still plenty heroic without his Permeation.”

“He could always just be a citizen for a few years until Eri gets older, I suppose,” Todoroki said idly. “Or he could be a police officer. Quirks aren’t required to be a part of the force.”

Midoriya stared off into the distance. “I guess. I just can’t imagine him in a police uniform instead of his hero costume. It’s too hard to think about.”

Toru slurped her noodles a bit too loudly at that, and all at once all eyes were on her. Well, her chopsticks.

“Hagakure-san?” Midoriya said.

Toru cleared her throat delicately before speaking. “Hero costume? I thought that Togata-senpai couldn’t wear clothes while using his quirk.”

“Oh!” Midoriya said cheerfully, understanding her surprise. “The only time you saw him fight was in his P.E. uniform, wasn’t it? No, Le Million’s hero costume is this really awesome full-body suit with a cape and the number one million written across the chest! I think he got the inspiration from—”

“But how does it stay on him?” Toru asked, cutting Midoriya off before he could start rambling.

If Midoriya was put off by her interruption, he was kind enough not to show it. “It’s woven out of some specially-made fabric,” Midoriya said. “The inspiration appears to be from—”

And for the second time that day, Toru cut Midoriya off. But this time it was to abruptly leave the table, leaving the rest of her soba and her friends behind.

Toru hoped all the work she had put in making friends with her classmates for the past few months would make up for her rudeness at lunchtime. But after hearing that there was a specially-woven fabric that could form to quirks, Toru could no longer sit idly by.

This could have been her solution! Not the one she had secretly, selfishly wished for, that her quirk would one day disappear and she would wake up a normal, visible civilian. But the more attainable goal, that she could find a way to make a costume that wasn’t so revealing. Something that gave her more coverage while still allowing her to maintain the one advantage that her quirk gave her in the field.

She had run immediately to the Principal Nezu’s office and requested Togata Mirio’s contact information, saying that it was urgent and related to education. The principal gave it to her with little hesitation, perhaps seeing an outcome to their meeting that she couldn’t fathom with her human brain. But Toru didn’t care, so long as she was able to talk to Togata about the nature of his costume.

Texting him had been a little nerve-wracking, especially since her senpai probably didn’t even know she was alive, but after explaining through text that she was a student from 1-A with some hero questions, Togata seemed perfectly happy to meet her in the courtyard on campus and chat with her.

Feeling better than she had in weeks, Toru made an effort in her appearance. Wearing a form-fitting black turtleneck, checkered skirt, and thigh-high stockings, she was feeling more like herself than she had in a very long time. Another girl would probably style her hair or apply make-up for a meeting with an upperclassmen boy, but Toru didn’t. She brushed her transparent hair and let it hang down straight, not that anyone else would know the difference. She did choose a more stylish mask today, looping a purple one with a bedazzled kitty face on it around her ears before heading away from the dorms to their meeting spot.

She sat on a bench in the courtyard, a few minutes early, and anxiously tapped on her thighs as she waited. Now that she was here, she was starting to get nervous. As excited as she was to talk about hero costumes, it was now occurring to her that her blank-faced senpai might not actually want to talk about hero work now that he had been forcefully relegated to civilian status. He’d gone through a traumatizing ordeal and had his whole life ripped away from him only a few months ago. Was she being incredibly selfish again?

“Hagakure-san?” Toru heard, and leapt to her feet awkwardly as Togata entered the courtyard.

“S-senpai! I’m glad you could come on such short notice!” she squeaked. She shouldn’t have asked him to come, what was she thinking—

“I like your mask,” he said with a sunny smile, coming to sit beside her on the stone bench. He didn’t look upset in the slightest. “I really love cats.”

“Really?” Toru asked stupidly.

“Yeah!” he said enthusiastically. “The way their tails swish back and forth, their rough tongues, their little toe beans? Cats are the best. If I could spend a day in a pile of cats, that would be the best day ever.”

Toru….did not know how to respond to that. The last time she saw him he had looked so depressed. She didn’t think that he would come here to talk to her and look so happy. Togata was sitting beside her, all six-foot-something of him, with his broad shoulders and his perfect hair and he was talking to her about cats. What did she call him here for again?

Thankfully, Togata could not see the way she was gaping at him and just took her silence as a means to continue. He went on a Midoriya-like ramble for the next few minutes or so about his favorite breed (Singapura) before Toru finally found the will to speak.

“Togata-senpai?” she said gently, trying to make up for her earlier rudeness with her friends by at least interrupting this boy kindly. He stopped talking to look at her curiously. “I actually didn’t come here to talk about cats. I was hoping to talk to you about hero work…if that’s okay,” she tacked on lamely, hoping not to offend him.

He looked unbothered, smiling at her kindly. “Sure! I have a lot of experience out in the field, so I’m sure I could offer you some advice if you need it. Is something bothering you?”

“Well,” Toru said, looking down at her lap. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to bare her soul so openly to someone who was basically a stranger to her, so he kept her explanation brief. “Due to my quirk,” she splayed her arms out to gesture to her invisible form, “I don’t have a lot of options, costume-wise. Midoriya told me that your Le Million costume was constructed of a special fabric so that you could wear it while using your Permeation quirk, and I was just wondering if the same material might work for my quirk as well?”

Togata looked on thoughtfully. “Well, you see. My costume was made from my own hair.”

Toru blinked.

“Your hair?”

He nodded. “With Permeation, I phase through every solid object around me when I use my quirk. You saw me fight your class, I could barely keep my P.E. uniform on,” he said with a bashful chuckle. “But if my costume is made from me, I can use my quirk on it so both me and my clothes permeate. You see?”

“Oh,” Toru murmured.

She really didn’t realize how much hope she had in this plan until it was dashed right in front of her eyes. There wasn’t some special all-in-one fabric swatch she could use to make her own full-body suit with a cape. She was Hagakare Toru, and life did not treat her that kindly. She would spend the rest of her hero days either shivering from the cold or being unintentionally (or even worse, intentionally ) groped by every person she attempted to save.

Her vision swam from disappointment, and when the tears started beading in the corners of her eyes, she did nothing to stop them.

“Hagakure-san! What’s wrong?” her senpai asked, flapping his hands wildly in concern when he saw the water drip down the invisible contours of her cheeks.

“I just thought—I just hoped I could have a costume like yours, Senpai,” she sniffed miserably. “I can’t stand doing hero work with no clothes on. I don’t want to want to be a hero if I have to be naked for it.”

Togata seemed to finally understand what she was here for, and the sympathy in his eyes showed it. While the pity was appreciated, she wasn’t sure she wanted to be around anyone right now. She stood to leave, but before she could turn away from him Togata touched her very gently at the elbow. She stopped and looked down at his hand, and he immediately took it away.

“Wait, don’t go yet. I understand completely what you mean. I spent so much of my first year at UA forced to laugh it off whenever my clothes would fall off while training with my classmates. I know how it must feel for you, to an extent.”

Toru thought of her classmates, who brushed off her concerns dismissively. “You do?”

That constant smile returned to his face, though there was a sad twist to it. “Embarrassing. Vulnerable. Incredibly lonely.”

She blinked a few more tears away and nodded.

Togata continued. “It’s hard when you have a quirk with such a unique drawback. No one wants to think too much about how hard it might be for you. Especially since you’re so cheery; you can’t possibly be bothered by it. Sound familiar?”

To a tee.

“It sucks having to be the positive one all the time,” she said, brushing her cheeks with the palm of her hand. “It means no one likes you when you act truly unhappy.”

Togata swallowed and nodded. She wondered what it must be like for him now, to have lost his quirk and still keep that sunny smile on his face. She wondered how genuine he was when he first showed up here, or if he was putting on an act just like she did every day.

She thought to ask him. “Togata-senpai—?”

But Togata was already pressing on. “But I do think there’s something we can do for you. While the material for my suit won’t be usable for you, there’s no reason why the same method of costume production won’t work for you, Hagakure-san.”

“My hair?”

Togata shrugged. “If it worked for me, I don’t see why it wouldn’t work for you. It’s worth a shot, anyway. How long is your hair?”

Without asking, his hand reached out. Toru never got used to this. It was always worse because of how horrible people were at guessing body position. You’d think that after looking at so many humans on a day-to-day basis that people would be able to reasonably guess where certain body parts were, but Toru was often unpleasantly surprised by where people grabbed her first.

She closed her eyes and waited for it to be over, but his hand never fell. She cracked open one eye and saw Togata’s hand, suspended a few inches above the crown of her head. Her eyes then flicked to his face, where he waited patiently for her.

The saltwater didn’t seem to have fully left her eyes as she reached up her hand and took hold of his own, before guiding it gently down the length of her hair. His fingertips grazed the very ends of the strands for a moment before letting it fall back to her shoulders. He smiled again.

“That should be plenty to start.”

“Shouldn’t we be going to the Costumes Department?” Toru asked as she followed Togata’s lead, walking towards a wing of UA that she’d never needed to enter before today.

“Nah, they’d take too long to make it. They’re always backed up. But the Support Class students are always itching for new projects,” Togata said like the wise senpai he was. “No one is more Plus Ultra than UA students themselves, after all,” he said with a wink.

Toru took this logic in stride as she stood before the Support Class Workshop, but admittedly she was a little nervous. They were still students, after all.

“What if they mess up?” she asked. She’d be foolish to not voice her fears now, before it was too late.

Togata seemed unfazed. “Then we try again. Hair isn’t a finite resource after all. It grows back. And if you can find someone with a helpful quirk, your costume material could grow back faster than you think!”

Toru supposed she couldn’t argue with that, so she steeled herself for whatever was to come and opened the door.

A drone zipped past her head and out the door, so quick Toru didn’t even have time to duck.

“Don’t leave the door open!” a student covered in grime yelled from on top of an incredibly tall ladder. “My babies will escape!”

“Babies?” Toru asked curiously. Togata closed the metal door behind them and caught another drone flying their way before it could smack into the wall. The student who had yelled at them before was already focusing her attention elsewhere, picking up an electric tool that Toru couldn’t identify and hopping inside of the cabin of a giant mech.

“That’s Hatsume Mei,” Togata told her. “She’s a first-year, but she’s already at the top of the Support Class. If anyone can help you, it’s her.”

“Is that praise I hear?” Hatsume Mei called out, poking her head out of the robot and grinning wildly. “Le Millioni! It’s been ages. What can I do for you?

“We’re actually here for Hagakure-san today.” Togata explained the situation to her while she worked, undeterred when Hatsume climbed back in her machine and continued working on her invention. He told her of Toru’s unique problem as impersonally as possible, only telling her the necessary details, which Toru was grateful for. Her fingers fiddled with the hem of her skirt as she waited until Togata ended his explanation, wondering if Hatsume could fashion a costume for her out of her own hair.

“So you said it was mid-back, right?” Hatsume Mei yelled over the sound of a drill. She was back inside the robot and sparks were shooting out of it at rapid intervals. Toru and Togata ducked their heads in tandem as some shot their way.

“Closer to my lower back, actually!” Toru shouted back.

Toru had always been incredibly proud of her hair. It was a personal thing, obviously, since no one could see it, but that didn’t stop Toru from meticulously maintaining it from a young age. Even if it wasn’t visible, Toru could still feel it, so she’d always gone out of her way to treat her hair properly so she could at least revel in the sleek texture of it. She’d followed beauty influencers online for years to discover the perfect balance of shampoos, conditioners, leave-ins, and other miracle products to keep her hair in perfect condition. Hair length like hers could only be achieved through proper care of healthy hair.

The drilling noise cut off suddenly and Hatsume pulled herself out of the robot and climbed down the ladder. She flipped up her grease-smudged goggles to eye Toru curiously. Toru, used to this reaction, let herself be scrutinized.

“I can work with that,” she said finally. “Though there is the caveat of it being invisible. I need to be able to see my materials in order to make a beautiful baby out of them.”

There was always something, wasn’t there? Every time Toru thought she was taking a step in the right direction, the rug was pulled right out from under her—

“That’s an easy fix, though,” Togata said. “Temporary hair dye will help you cut it off of her and work it into usable fabric. Then you can wash the dye out when you’re all done.”

And just like that, there was hope again. Toru looked at Togata in amazement.

Hatsume smiled grandly at Togata. “Look at that! Beauty and brains. What don’t you have, Le Million?”

A quirk , Toru thought glumly. But Togata didn’t miss a beat. “Time to waste, Hatsume. Toru needs this costume done as soon as possible, okay?”

“Don’t they all,” Hatsume said flippantly, tossing her tool on a desk behind her. “Alright, cutie,” she said, addressing Toru this time. “If you want support gear from me ASAP then I’m going to need you to come back to me as quick as you can with dyed hair, got it? Then I’ll get to work on turning it into something usable for you.”

“Do you really think you can do it?” Toru asked. All of this hoping was exhausting her.

“Ye of little faith. I perform miracles in this workshop every day!” she shouted, extending her arms out widely to gesture to the room of junked parts. “Now, begone until you’ve returned with dyed hair. I have schematics to work up.”

And just like that, they were kicked out of Hatsume Mei’s workshop of miracles, something Toru believed in for the first time in a long while.

Two days later, Toru walked out of the Workshop of Miracles feeling lighter than she had in all the time she’d been a student at UA. Most of that was due to the 13 inches of hair cut from her head, but she couldn’t deny that optimism had something to do with it too.

“I like the haircut,” Togata told her as he met up with her outside of the workshop. He was smiling that same sunny smile, but Toru didn’t have it in her to question it after feeling so high.

She shook her head from side to side, reveling in the feeling of the tips of her hair hitting her face. The other night she had approached the girls of 1-A with a proposition: make-over night. Thrilled beyond all belief, they were incredibly eager to follow her to the drugstore for a night of fun, picking out nail polish and facial masks and of course, hair dye. After mixing it with care, Ochako had taken a specially purchased paintbrush to apply the dye evenly and consistently to her hair, making sure every strand was fully coated. The morning after, she had sent an email to Aizawa-sensei saying she wouldn’t be able to participate in Stealth training for a week and then took the day to bask in the feeling of being truly seen.

“It’s a shame I didn’t get to see it while it was still long,” he said as he walked beside her, matching his pace with hers as they made their way to the cafeteria. Despite the fact that she had a freshly-cut, lilac-colored bob swishing on her head, he still made the effort to focus his gaze on the space between her hairline and her mask, a white one with rainbow-colored cat whiskers. Toru smiled widely.

“It’s alright, Senpai. You didn’t miss anything,” she said genuinely.

What he wouldn’t want to miss was still yet to come.

This was, perhaps, the one time Toru truly allowed herself to be manhandled. Even the word “allow” felt a little strong, for Hatsume Mei had come to her with an eagerness that couldn’t be denied, but with Toru being just as ecstatic as the engineer was, she didn’t push back too much when Hatsume insisted that she blindfold Toru for the reveal of her new costume. So after tying a UA uniform-standard tie around her eyes, Hatsume set to work dressing Toru, making easy work of her and not once misplacing where certain body parts might be.

“Are you guys almost done in there?” Togata asked from outside of the crudely-made fitting room. It wasn’t more than some strategically placed Support Pieces and a curtain draped between the stacks, but it was more privacy than Toru usually got when she undressed, so she was grateful.

“Al-moooooost,” Hatsume sang, in an extraordinary mood, which only made Toru’s spirits climb higher. After the rustling of fabric and a few tugs later, Toru felt herself being spun in a circle and led to the outside of the fitting room. Togata remained quiet as Hatsume untied the tie and pulled it from Toru’s eyes in a grand flourish.

Before Toru was a large full-length mirror, with Togata off to the side, watching with quiet awe. She almost couldn’t understand his expression at first, until she turned her body slightly and saw her hair catch the light, a purple shimmer still tinting parts of it even after she’d washed it several times.

But that’s all she saw.

Toru walked forward and touched her hand to the mirror before pulling it away. The glass felt cool and smooth beneath her palm, but she had not seen her approach the entire time she’d walked towards it. Only Togata and Hatsume’s giant smiles as they stood behind her.

Togata’s expression started to dip when he saw the tears rolling down Toru’s cheeks, a similar sight to what he had seen the day he first met her, except now they were suspended alone in midair.

“Oh, no. Hagakure-san, if you don’t like it—”

A little laugh bubbled out of her before she could stop herself, then another, until Toru found herself crying and laughing in equal parts.

Togata looked confused until Hatsume, who had never stopped grinning, handed over her goggles to him.

“Click the right button twice for thermal imaging, Beauty,” she whispered to him.

And then Togata was able to see Toru as she truly stood, a smile practically splitting her face in two as her hands roved up and down her body. Just her 13 inches of hair had made enough material for a shirt the length of a crop top, with spaghetti straps crossed behind her back. Her bikini-cut bottoms covered her front and backside completely, and there was even a tiny bit of material left over to make a tie for Toru’s hair, so the longer strands of her bob could be pulled back into a small ponytail at the back of her head. She was invisible, but she was covered , for the first time in her life, and Toru couldn’t stop crying as she clung to the feeling of security around all her most intimate parts.

“Now once your hair grows back, I’ll be able to add more to it, of course. This is just the prototype stage. If you take your vitamins or, if you’re like our senpai over here, you find someone with a hair-growth quirk, we’ll be able to add all sorts of pieces to it, such as—”

Hatsume couldn’t get any more words out, crushed as she was in Toru’s vice grip embrace.

“Thank you,” she cried into the engineer’s neck. “Thank you so much.”

Hatsume hummed and patted her back. “All in a day’s work. Glad I could help.” She rubbed Toru’s bare shoulder for a moment before jumping back. “Oh! Wait, I didn’t show you the best part.”

She extracted herself from Toru to head back to the makeshift dressing room, where she brought out the briefcase that all UA students carried their costumes in. Toru’s had previously only contained her white striped gloves. But when Hatsume opened it up, she saw much more.

It almost looked like a miniaturized closet, a rod going across the top of it and a tech-y looking hanger dangling from the middle. On the bottom of the velvet-lined case were a bunch of black discs the size of silver dollars, each with a blinking red light.

“This—” Hatsume said as she pointed to the hanger “—is where you put your costume after you’re done wearing it. The hanger is weight sensitive, so when your costume is on it, it will light up green so you know that it’s there even if you can’t see it. Should it not be in your case and you need to try and locate it—” Hatsume picked up one of the small discs “—use one of these sensors to track it. Your costume gives off a signal that can be registered on one of these from up to 500 meters away. There’s a tiny twist of wires in both pieces that act as a homing beacon. I made them as small as possible so they’re barely visible to the human eye unless you’re dancing in front of a stark white background. Otherwise you should be good.”

Toru twisted and turned about, patting down her sides, unable to even feel the wires Hatsume was talking about. The engineer was good.

“Why are there so many sensors?” she asked.

“Ah, yes. These also double as tools to be given to your team when you go out on assignment for hero work. Now your teammates can locate you even if you can’t respond to them aloud. Helps with rescue ops and things like that.”

Toru didn’t know what to say.

“You put a tracking device in my suit so my friends can find me?”

“Yes, essentially.”

Toru swallowed, the emotion in her throat coming close to clawing out of her. How did Hatsume know? How could she have known that Toru was terrified of getting lost or injured during her hero work? Of no one knowing where to look? She’d never told anyone that. She was Hagakure Toru, the upbeat attitude of 1-A, the comic relief when everyone else was feeling overwhelmed. How did she know Toru was petrified that a stealth operation would turn into a mission where she’d be lost forever?

“I can’t take the credit for that idea,” Hatsume continued good-naturedly. “Brains here came up with that one.”

Toru turned to her senpai, who had been standing back the entire time and staying out of the girls’ way as they discussed the details of the costume. He was still wearing Hatsume’s ridiculous-looking goggles, which meant he could still see Toru, though it seemed like he didn’t need the goggles at all for that to be possible. Maybe he’d been the one person truly seeing her this whole time.

She stepped toward him, not at all feeling self-conscious for perhaps the first time in her life and took his hands in hers.

“Thank you for everything you’ve done for me, Togata-senpai,” she said, her voice packed with sincerity.

She’d seen so many smiles from him in these past two weeks, but the crooked one that climbed up his face now felt the most genuine out of all of them.

“I’m always here to help,” he told her.

No, this was the most genuine smile she’d seen him wear in weeks.

“I can’t believe it! I can’t believe it!”

She laughed good-naturedly as the former-hero Le Million lay on the floor of a cat café, covered in kittens. He’d been shrieking with joy for the past half hour while she sipped her coffee and watched him. This was the least she could do for her upperclassmen after all he’d done for her lately. A small orange kitten crawled over his chest and flicked its tail at Togata’s nose, and he looked like he just won the lottery.

“This is the best day,” he said happily, his hands patting at the floor while an older striped cat batted at his fingers. “I feel like now I owe you something, Hagakure-san. You didn’t have to do this.”

“I absolutely did,” she said, setting down her cup. A cat sitting on the chair across from her scurried away at the noise, not being able to comprehend how the cup had seemingly moved on its own. “And frankly I owe you about a thousand more cat cafés after all you’ve done for me.”

Togata sat up, holding the striped cat up to his face to give her forehead a kiss before setting her down to run away. He looked at Toru, eyes still full of light. “Now that’s just silly.”

Maybe so, but Toru felt he deserved it nonetheless. She wouldn’t be feeling as happy, as safe, as she felt now without his help. And the trackers…she really couldn’t thank him enough. He’d done so much for her despite barely knowing her.

She wished she had been able to do the same when she saw him in that hospital bed all those months ago. When he was feeling lost, who had helped out Le Million? Back then, Toru had seen the pain on his face and had only thought of herself. Toru felt the venomous shame coursing through her veins again. Underneath all the smiles and child-like exuberance was a boy who was suffering without his quirk. The fact that she’d envied someone who’d been hurt so deeply still made her stomach twist. The cat café could provide him temporary happiness, but she could see that saving people was the thing that caused him real joy.

“Togata-senpai?”

Togata, who’d been dangling a feathered toy in front of an uninterested black cat’s face, looked up.

She was going to ruin his good mood, but she felt like she had to say it.

“I’m sorry you lost your quirk.”

For once, Togata didn’t plaster an automatic smile to his face. “Why do you say that?”

Toru fiddled with the hem of her uniform skirt awkwardly, unable to look him in the eye. “You seem like a really kind person. I know that you would have made an amazing hero.” She cleared her throat awkwardly. “The fact that you lost your quirk is really unfair.”

Togata remained quiet. Toru did as well, not knowing if she should continue or change the subject to lighten the mood. Hagakure Toru, known for her cheery attitude, was not known for her grace when it came to serious topics. She probably shouldn’t have brought it up. It was out of her own guilt that she felt the need to mention it, and now she was forcing Togata to think about it—

Togata stood up, leaving the bell toy in front of the cat, and sat at the table with her. His voice was uncharacteristically somber when he spoke.

“I won’t lie to you. When I lost my quirk, I thought it was unfair too. I’ve worked hard my entire life to be able to turn my quirk into something useful, and having all that hard work taken from me so suddenly felt like a slap in the face. Like a part of me was taken, you know?”

Toru nodded sympathetically.

“But you know what?” Togata said. “After a while I began to realize that no one can control what is or isn’t fair in their lives. We can only control how we react to it.”

There was truth in the simplicity of his statement. Toru felt it in her bones every time she’d been dismissed, ignored by people who often forgot about her if she didn’t work so hard to take up space. Life was unfair, and the bitterness she felt in her heart about her own quirk probably wouldn’t go away for a long time. But stewing in hate wasn’t going to help her move forward either.

Togata continued, “I lost my quirk, maybe permanently, but that doesn’t change my purpose. Le Million’s goal is to save a million people. I don’t need to be a hero to do that. Every day that I help someone in need is another person saved, and I use that reminder to stay focused on the future.”

Toru thought about that. “Does that mean I’m another person you saved?”

Togata hummed pensively. “Maybe. But I think that asking for help means that you already did half the work for me. And now that you can do hero work more comfortably, you can save lots of people too!”

The smile forming on his face was infectious. She felt the corners of her lips turning up, hope lighting a fire in her heart that hadn’t been there a month ago.

Toru put her hands on her hips, but kept a teasing edge to her voice.. “Don’t think that you can use my rescues towards your count, Le Million!” Toru retorted playfully. “If you want to save a million people you need to do it fair and square!”

Togata laughed at her joke—a full, exuberant sound that Toru found she quite liked. The conversation tapered off from there as her senpai located a lone Singapura cat basking in the sunlight a few tables down, but Toru was fine with that. Something told her that this was the beginning of a new chapter for both of them.

The future was looking brighter for her already, and with a new costume and a new friend, she was excited to see the kind of hero she’d turn out to be.

#hagakure toru #hagakure tooru #bnha #my hero adademia #togata mirio #hatsume mei #my writing #bnha fic

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thatmultifandomhoe · 4 years ago

Text

Knitting You a Home - 4

Pairing: Wolf Hybrid Namjoon and Human Reader

Word Count: 2,853

Genre/Rating: Hybrid AU - Established Relationship - Angst - Fluff - Smut - PG-13

Overview: Things have changed for you and Namjoon. It’s been a year since the two of you got together, and despite a rocky start, it was impossible to deny the bond and love you shared for each other. But ever since Hoseok had been separated from his Mate, Namjoon has been withdrawing himself from you and doesn’t come home until late at night.

With questions far larger than either of you imagined, you can’t help but wonder if he’s let his past and old fears come back to haunt him. You had shown him that it was possible to have a home and be loved once before, but will you be able to do it again?

Warning: None.

Playlist:

Main Master List:

Knitting You a Home Master List:

Mated Love is Never Easy Series Master List:

Sneak Peak - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12 - Part 13 - Part 14 - Part 15 - ?

©thatmultifandomhoe Do not repost, translate, or use my stories without permission.

Grandma was perched on the chair at the register with her knitting, the needles lightly clicking against each other as she moved the yarn forwards and backwards all without looking at her work. It was a skill she acquired from years of practice.

Instead, she watched as you buzzed around the store, arranging and then rearranging displays even though each attempt didn’t look different from the last. It had been amusing within the first ten minutes, but after watching you do this all around the store, she knew something was off, whether or not you wanted to admit it.

“Honey,” Grandma called out, hands still moving as she raised an eyebrow at you. “Did you put something in your breakfast this morning that I should know about? Perhaps you thought it was sugar that you put in your coffee, but it really wasn’t?”

Usually a comment like that would have made you pause and laugh, but you didn’t. Instead, you licked your lip as you glanced at her for a few seconds before adjusting the decorative jade scarf on display.

“I had cereal for breakfast Grandma,” you softly answered, nose scrunching at how the scarf was now set.

The store itself was quiet with the lack of shoppers allowing the conversation to easily pass between you and your Grandmother with ease to keep it from silent. When you didn’t even hear the clicking of her knitting needles, you felt unnerved in the silence.

Turning around, you were surprised to see her arms crossed over her chest, the purple beads attached to her glasses glimmering as she propped them on the top of her head. It had been years since she had looked at you like this; an instant reminder of the days in high school when you attempted to be rebellious.

“What is going on? You’ve managed to do a week’s worth of work in the four hours that we’ve been open.”

You shrugged, looking away and at the scarf. It had been one of Grandmother’s creations. Ideally, it was meant to be worn at events rather than for warmth. “I fell asleep early last night. That’s all.”

It wasn’t a lie. After weeks of waiting up for Namjoon to come home, you finally couldn’t find the strength to stay up, crashing at eleven. You weren’t entirely sure when he came home last night, but when the alarm went off at seven thirty, he was already gone. Unlike you where you needed to be at the store for nine, he had to be at the studio for eight. But like every morning the coffee maker was already set and your favorite mug was waiting, prepared for you by Namjoon himself. All you had to do was press the button to start it.

Grandma shook her head though. Standing up, she walked around the counter and once she was in front of you, pressed her cool hand against your forehead.

The gesture made you smile. “I’m not sick Grandma.”

“I think I’ll decide that,” she teased, gently bopping a finger against the tip of your nose like she had when you were a child. “You may not be sick, but you’re bottling something up for sure.”

She always knew when you were dealing with an issue. As a child, you thought she was able to use magic to sense these types of things, and even though you were now an adult, you still liked to believe that she was magical. Especially when it worked in her favor.

“It’s nothing serious,” you half admitted, smiling up at her. “Namjoon’s just been pulling a lot of hours at the studio, so he’s there more than he’s at home.”

Raising an eyebrow, she ran her fingers through your hair. “He should tell his boss that his wife needs him at home.”

With a giggle, you stepped back once she removed her hand and went back to the scarf display. This time determined to drape it in a way that was pleasing to the eye. “His wife, doesn’t want to interfere with her husband’s career.”

“Please, the two of you are young and in your first year of marriage. He should be with you, in a certain room, in that cozy house of yours that has a few empty bedrooms.” Grandma sent a knowing grin to you, chuckling as you simply shook your head.

“Almost a year,” you corrected. “We’ve known each for a year, but he gave me the Mate Mark in November.”

Grandma hummed, making her way over to a wicker basket that held knitted rabbits dressed in thin sweaters and dresses. They were a hit with young children, perfect as baby shower gifts, and you absolutely loved to make them.

“Which proves my point even more. You’ve been married a little less than a year, and you’re both working like an old married couple.” Holding a bunny, she waved the rabbit’s arm at you. “As your Grandmother and your business partner, I’m telling you that you need a vacation. Go home, take a few days off and sleep in. I can run the shop on my own.”

“Grandma, I’m fi-”

“Yes, you’re fine,” Grandma interrupt. “You’re saying it but I’m not believing it one bit.”

A part of you wanted to argue for a little bit longer, expect all that came out was a sigh of frustration. You were more than capable of working for the rest of the day, but standing by the mannequin, Grandma was right. It was time to recharge yourself, and if you were going to figure out why Namjoon was acting so strange, it would help if you weren’t at the shop all day long. Glancing at the calendar, you realized that it was only Tuesday. How were you already so done with the week when it only just began?

“Alright,” you agreed, setting done the scarf once and for all to head towards the office. “I’ll go home, take that vacation.”

Her excited cheers were ignored as you went to gather your belongings, smiling nonetheless. As much as you teased her, you did love her dearly and were grateful to have Grandmother in your life.

Grabbing your purse, you gave her one last hug and reminded her that you’d be back on Monday before leaving the shop, the little bell jingling in your wake. The car was parked in the back-parking lot, but instead of guiding you there, your feet took you to the right, walking the short distance to another shop that was six doors down from yours.

The air conditioning hit like a wave washing off the summer heat as you entered the bookstore. From nowhere in particular soft music danced around the shop. It had been a while since you last saw Sarah and after everything, you were curious as to how she was doing considering that Hoseok was leaving at the end of the month.

“Be right there,” Sarah called out, her voice coming from a corner of the store that you couldn’t quite see.

“Or I can come to you?” You suggested, releasing the smile when she called out your name in glee.

Following the sound of her voice and books thumping on the floor, you weren’t surprised to see Sarah sitting cross legged on the floor in front of a bookcase. “Well I’m happy to see you like this instead of the last time I saw you.”

Sarah laughed, leaning over to hug you once you sat down next to her. “Believe me, I am too. What are you doing here? I thought you’d be at the shop.”

“Grandma insisted I needed a vacation.” You carefully leaned against a bookcase as Sarah continued to stack the shelf.

“Well I mean, you do,” Sarah agreed, glancing in your direction. “Besides that, how’ve you been? I’ve been meaning to text you but ever since Hoseok signed the contract, we’ve been running around trying to figure out what he needs before leaving for Seoul.”

You shrugged, spotting a romance novel with a crown on the cover. “I’m alright. Just…has Namjoon been in lately?”

Her hand paused its task at the mention of his name, this time turning to face you completely. Like your shop had been, the bookstore was currently free of customers. While that tended to be a worry, it was only noon and typical during the week. The weekend was when business really went to town.

“Actually, now that I think about it, he hasn’t been in these last few weeks. I think the last time I saw him was before the Dance Studio’s May show. Why, is something wrong?”

Licking your lips, you turned the book over, grazing the description with your fingertips. It wasn’t unlike Namjoon to skip out on his trips to the bookstore. It had been the first place he went to on his own when he first came to live with you and it was a habit he kept, always excited to tell you about the new sonnets and books he got that day.

It was strange for him to not be coming to the bookstore.

You knew when this all started, and you didn’t think Sarah wanted to be reminded of that so soon. “He’s just been working longer hours,” you said again, faking a smile when she raised an eyebrow. Guilt swirled in your heart from keeping the truth from her, but the last thing you wanted was to have her relive what Sue put her through. Even if it was just by remembering.

Luckily, Sarah nodded after a few moments. Whether or not she believed you, she didn’t mention it. “Oh well he’s probably just tired then. I know I tend to forget things when I’m not running on enough sleep.”

You chuckled in agreement, handing her back the book you had been looking at. “Yeah.”

A comfortable silence fell as Sarah began to re-stack the shelf again. You took the chance to look at her, noticing the differences since the last time you saw her. Namjoon had explained that Hybrids were able to sense everyone’s emotions and that depending on how severe they were, another person’s emotions could affect theirs as well.

When you had gotten the call from Sarah, her voice breaking over the line as she sobbed into the phone, scaring both you and Namjoon – who had been standing nearby and heard it all clear as day – while you hurried to gather your things to go see her. Before even reaching the car, you knew it was bad. She hadn’t even locked her door so when you arrived at her apartment that day, you had walked right in and found her curled up in bed, cheeks blotchy as she cried into her pillow.

It never crossed your mind that by telling Sue about what Colin had been doing would result in the choices that had been made. Guilt had been an unwelcomed guest in your heart and mind during Sarah and Hoseok’s separation. Despite all your attempts to reign in your emotions at home that night, Namjoon had picked up on them so much that as soon as he came home, he was right there by your side, hugging and sweetly kissing you and your Mate Mark, reassuring you that was never going to happen between the two of you.

Despite his promises, it already felt like there was a rift between you and him.

“How are you and Hoseok?” You asked.

Sarah smiled as she ran a hand through her hair, revealing the side of her neck where her own Mate Mark was. To any onlooker – and with some distance – every Mate Mark looked like an identical scar from a bite. Someone who you never met could have one that look just like yours, but upon closer inspection, it was easy to tell that no two were alike. How could they be identical? Namjoon’s jaw and teeth were different from Hoseok’s. It was the finer details; the grooves and ridges were their own individual shape.

“Amazing,” Sarah breathed out. “It’s just so good to have him back home. He finally got the rest of his belongings from Sue since she’s planning on moving, but it finally feels like everything is going right for us.”

It appeared that way too. There was a life in Sarah’s eyes that when you had gone to check on her with Hoseok gone, had been burnt out. You were scared that she was going to fall into a depressive state without him, but it was a miracle that she managed to fight against it and try to live her life, even when her Mate had been taken away.

A part of you wanted to believe that, if for some reason you lost Namjoon, you’d be able to continue living. Deep down however, you knew how easy it would be slip under the covers and not care, and not know that the days were blending together.

It did surprise you how easily she had mentioned Sue though. “Have you heard much from her?”

The smile on her face flickered, and you thought that maybe you had made a mistake.

“No. Actually, Hoseok’s been the one to talk to her when it came to scheduling a time to go over and pack his stuff.” Her fingers tightened around a hardcover and somewhere in the store, the clock chimed at the half hour. “I’m trying, but…it’s going to be a long time.”

Reaching over, you gently squeezed her shoulder as her words died out, not needing an explanation for how she felt. You knew what she meant and if you were being honest, if someone had done the same to you and Namjoon, you didn’t think you’d ever be able to forgive them.

It was as she was taking a deep breath that Sarah tapped the book and snapped her finger at you, drawing a grin out of you. “Since you’re on vacation, you can give these to Namjoon to look at.”

She hurried to the desk, leaving you to take your time as you stood up, lower back popping as you joined her. By the time you leaned on the wooden desk, Sarah had a stack of six hardcovers waiting for you. The pages were yellowed and upon opening the top one, the musty smell of an aged book greeted you. While you loved to read as well, you didn’t get overly excited over the famous book smell that you knew Namjoon and Sarah died for.

“I found them at this flea market Hoseok and I went to,” Sarah explained, opening up another one. The text was small and centered, and as you took a closer look, you realized that they were books of poetry.

“How much for them?” You asked, turning your purse to pull out your wallet.

Sarah waved her fingers though, lightly slapping your hand when you still tried to take it out. “Don’t worry about it. They’re a gift.”

“Are you sure?”

“If you do not accept these on Namjoon’s half, I will pick up the phone and call your Grandmother right now Missy,” Sarah playfully threatened, her smile about ready to break her face in half.

For a moment, there was silence in the little shop, but it didn’t last long as you both broke out in laughter. Even as you agreed and she bagged them up for you, you slipped a few dollars in the little donation jar that her boss insisted be put out.

“Now, why don’t you head home,” Sarah suggested, walking around the desk, and hugged you. “Steal a nap before Namjoon comes home tonight.”

“He’s probably going to be working until midnight again,” you said, accepting the bag.

But Sarah smirked at you, wiggling her eyebrows in a way that sent you into a fit of giggles. “Not unless you call him and tell him that you need him.”

“You are just as bad as my Grandmother,” you teased, walking towards the door.

Sarah just laughed as you headed outside, shaking your head in amusement. You knew that they meant well, but it was starting to worry you that everyone seemed to be concerned about your sex life with Namjoon, or apparently, the lack of one.

It wasn’t as if you didn’t have one – Namjoon had his heats like every other Hybrid – with everything that’s been going on, there just hadn’t been time to relax and get in the mood. You knew that Sarah was still relatively newly mated to Hoseok, so it wouldn’t surprise you if they were going at it whenever the desire struck.

But as you got into the car, the books for Namjoon carefully sitting on the passenger seat, you weren’t able to stop thinking about it. It felt like forever since Namjoon indicated that he wanted more than a few kisses or a few minutes of cuddling.

Again, despite knowing his love for you, your mind wandered to the other place, hands gripping the steering wheel tighter than usual. He hadn’t always had to stay so late, so why had things changed so suddenly?

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ziaxkawaii · 4 years ago

Text

Worth more than some perceive (Victorian!Todoroki X F!Reader) Part 1

Pairing: Shoto Todoroki x Reader

Warnings: None.

Other: Quirks aren't a thing in this particular story and Endeavour's just being a piece of crap

Summary: Living hand to mouth was not easy in the Victorian ages, but you managed. Being nothing more than a dressmaker surrounded by rich people, you doubted someone would be interested in you. But you were proven wrong when you occasionally started to find neatly wrapped up little gifts on your threshold in the mornings.

Part 2 Here! Part 3 Here!

~"(Name)! We got another order!" Your older brother William shouted from behind a corner. You really weren't paying attention to what he was saying as you were sewing a delicate silver ornament on the front of a beautiful dress.

~The ornament was what would catch most of the attention upon first look at the gown, so it had to be sewn perfectly, and by a steady hand. So you couldn't afford to make any mistakes or you would have hell to pay later.

~"(Name)!! Didn't you hear what I said?" Your brother enters the backroom of the boutique where you were working along with some papers in his hands. He looked and sounded a bit annoyed, but you knew it was unintentional. It has been especially a stressful week.

~"I did, but I am kind of in the middle of something here..." You trailed off as you stuck out your tongue in concentration and still not looking in your brother's direction.

~"Oh, apologizes sister. I thought you were having your break." He spoke more softly this time as he took a seat at his desk that was right next to yours.

~"I would be, but I have to finish this gown before closing. The customer said they would come to pick it up today."

~"I've noticed you have been working more lately. You must be more tired than usual." He pointed out, with a saddened tone.

~"Thank you for reminding me." You flatly commented as you continued to work.

~"I didn't mean to insult you, I'm just worried about your health." You scowled as you finally finished sewing the ornament and cut off the excess thread.

~"Yes, I have been working more lately since I also have to do a part of your work too. For example, last week you were gone for two days when you went to market our shop to the extravagant ball that had wealthy people from all over the capital." You still weren't looking at him.

~"And while you were spending time talking to very important people. I was here at the boutique doing my AND your work for those days." You looked over your masterpiece. Looking for any imperfections or accidental tea stains, finding none. "Plus, you wore one of my most expensive, delicate, and time-consuming suits." You continued your rant.

~"I have never made anything as high-quality as that suit, so if you somehow managed to get even one stain on it, you best believe I would have made you beg for mercy on your knees." You slipped the gown on a mannequin and spread the hem of the dress and took a step back to really see how it would look in the action.

~"It is breathtaking." William commented behind you.

~"William...." You said warningly as you finally turned to him, brushing non-existing dust off your dress skirt and long dress sleeves before crossing your arms. You could admit that right now you may act a little too harshly but you were tired and it clouded your judgment a bit.

~"Alright, alright, I know. But I already told you why all of it was necessary. We have to get our name out there, and what better way to promote our glorious suits and gorgeous dresses than letting them see them see first hand! You should have seen how intrigued and impressed all the men and women were when they saw me." He tried to lift your spirit by smiling brightly and jumping up and down a little.

~He wasn't wrong. If you two wanted more customers than the locals, you had to expand your promotion. And it took lots of effort and skill to lure people to consider buying your clothing, and William was good at that. And since you were a bit more advanced in sewing than William, it meant that you could get work done faster, hence you could handle the workload if he had to leave for a while. So you were always left to sew alone at the boutique.

~But it still bothered you.

~"I know, but it still frustrates me that it's always you who gets to go to the magnificent balls, wearing luxurious clothing while I'm here by myself working my arse off." You ranted while you paced back and forth in front of him. “They probably thought you tailored that suit and not me.”

~"I specifically told them that you, my dear sister, had been the one who made it." He grabbed your shoulder, in a last effort to stop your nonsense blabbering.

~"And you think they were listening? "A young woman couldn't possibly make something so prestigious and form-fitting for a businessman." "She surely couldn't have made it." "There is no way she designed it." I've heard them all!"

~"Calm down (Name)... You're breathing heavily again..." You didn't even realize you were. You took a couple of deep breaths and gazed at the floor.

~"It's just so... unfair..." You said depressed as you hugged him. You knew it had to be this way, but after a while, you start to grave for a taste of something new and exciting. Not the same old, same old bread that you have been chewing for the last few years.

~William knew how much more credit he was getting than you since most people automatically assume he's the one who designs the suits and accessories because he's the man who people first meet. In reality, it's you who does that. You're the one who basically runs the boutique, not him. William hugged you tightly back.

~"I know (Name)... I know."

~~~

~"Oh, did I forget to mention that a customer had booked an hour-appointment for this morning?" William asked as he went through some mail at his desk. You were just walking down the stairs from your shared home with your tea in hand.

~It was very convenient to have the boutique on the first floor and then your living quarters on the second. Affordable and comfortable, that's what you say. And you were always on time to open the store for customers.

~And with you being happy for once in a long time as you got a good night's rest, you figured that this day would be over in a breeze. You sipped your drink and sat down at your own work desk.

~"Yes, you forgot to mention. Did they say anything special in the letter?" You inquired.

~"Hmm..." He quickly read the letter again. "They said they wanted us to make a suit for them. Said that they would discuss more once they're here."

~"Interesting, It has been a while since we've made a custom suit. Did you get the name of the customer?"

~William looked at the letter again to see who the suit it was for, and his eyes widened to the size of saucers as he read the name.

~"Bloody hell!" He exclaimed as he jumped from his seat.

~"What is it, brother?" You questioned as you put down your empty teacup.

~"The customer is Enji Todoroki!!!"

~"WHAT!!!" It was your turn to shout and jump up from your seat. By what chance was someone so well known as Mr. Todoroki, coming to buy a suit from your small boutique?

~"Are you serious!? You mean... the owner of the steam train factory!?" You jumped from your seat ecstatic.

Enji Todoroki was well known for his very serious and hypercritical personality, and he even made a bigger name for himself when he funded the designing and building of the newest and the fastest train in the country. You didn't really favor him for his gruff and intimidating attitude, nor did your brother, but this was an amazing opportunity to get more publicity for your business since he is, a well-known and respected man amongst the wealthy.

~"Exactly him!!!" He confirmed.

~"I can't believe this!!! This is amazing for the business if he is satisfied with the outcome of the suit!"

~"You said it, sister." He smiled brightly.

~Just then, the doorbell rang in the main area and multiple pairs of footsteps could be heard step inside the boutique. You and William looked at each other and breathed in together, as a silent language to tell the other to 'calm down and act natural'. As though you weren't shouting just a second ago.

~William exited the back room first with you following suit with a tape measure hanging around your neck and a freshly dusted off dress.

~The actual boutique of the building wasn't anything too special nor expensive looking. In one room, there was a giant front desk with plenty of table space, the whole wall behind the desk was filled with different colored and/or patterned fabrics, the right side of the boutique had different styled dresses and suits neatly hanging on clothing racks for customers who wished to spend a bit less on looking good, and the whole left side of the store held a large mirror, a couple of couches for guests to sit on, and a folding screen for privacy.

~For rich people, it may look cheap, plain, or downright shameful. But for you and your brother, it was your pride and home.

~"Good morning Sir! Welcome to The Siblings Attire and Accessories! How may we help you, gentlemen?" William greeted the two males plus their butler.

~"When you see such a fine suit presented to you, you would think the tailor would have a better taste in furniture." Mr. Todoroki shamelessly commented and you and William internally winced. It was your first time meeting the man and you were already tempted to give him a piece of your mind. Instead, you silently exhaled and bit your lip.

~"We apologize if our shop looks a bit flimsy to your taste, but I can assure you that our clothing won't disappoint you." You stepped up next to your brother.

~"I sure hope so." You weren't listening to him, but instead, your attention shifted to the person standing a bit away from him. The male's eye-catching two-colored hair immediately caught your attention as soon as you walked into the room, and now that you had a better look at them, he seemed to have even different colored eyes.

~He also had a painful-looking scar over his left eye that somehow made his already interesting aspects look even more intriguing. Or perhaps it was a birthmark? Either way, he was handsome, you were not gonna lie.

~Clearly he didn't enjoy being near Mr. Todoroki, or maybe even here in the first place. You couldn't tell from his mildly annoyed look while he kept a fair distance. Poor man.

~"Over a week ago, I attended a ball that you also happened to be present at, and I saw your high-quality suit. I need you to make a similar one for my son Shoto. We are going to be attending another ball and he needs a new suit." He explained and the whole time he didn't even spare a glance at you, as though you weren't even there. But his son did give you a mute acknowledgment, which made you feel better.

~"Certainly. If you could come this way Mr. Todoroki, I will take your measurements." You motioned with your hand for the dual-hair-colored male to walk over to the mirror as you grabbed a notepad and a pen from a drawer. He complied and went to stand in front of the mirror.

~"Aren't you supposed to take his measurements." The older Todoroki asked your brother.

~"Um... Pardon?" He inquired back and you turned to look at the nobleman.

~"I just was just wondering. You're the one who's going to sew it after all?" You gripped the notepad in your hand tightly out of anger. Who does this man think he is to assume who's gonna make what, and expect to be right?

~"I apologize Mr. Todoroki, but my sister was the one who tailored the suit I wore to the ball last week. So she will be making your son's suit." William corrected him nervously as you sensed the fire of anger burning behind you.

~"She will be sewing the suit?" Mr. Todoroki inquired, sounding like he believed this was some kind of a joke.

~You were very close to saying something to the bastard, but the Todoroki whose name you learned was Shoto beat you to it.

~"Shut it father, it doesn't matter. Let her just do her job." He said in an annoyed tone.

~Fortunately, Mr. Todoroki didn't have to be told twice as he let the subject go with a 'tch' and a look of irritation towards both your way. Shoto 'tch'ed in response and began to take his coat and hat off. He handed the articles of clothing to his butler and lifted his arms to let you take his measurements.

~You began to measure him and asking basic questions such as what kind of vest he wanted over his dress shirt and how long he wanted the coat to be.

~He decided on a basic five-button vest with a coat that ended at the back of his knees. He wanted no ruffles on his outfit except for the neck piece.

~"I prefer not to have them." He expressed.

~"I understand." You said as you scribbled down some notes in a hurry. "Now what fabrics do you want your suit to be made from?" You led him to the wall where you stored your fabrics. Letting him have a look at them.

~"If you don't have anything special on your mind, I can recommend some colors for you if you'd like."

~"Please do."

~"Well let's see..." You trailed off as you thought deeply. "I think this royal blue would suit you well along with white and pale gray." You grabbed the tree rolls of fabric and placed them on the counter behind you for Shoto to see how the colors looked next to each other.

"I can make the coat mainly from this royal blue, and I can add some accessories to it such as buttons or other details. The dress pants could be made from this white, and the vest from the gray. I could even add a chain for your pocket watch on the vest." You rambled as you quickly sketched a rough picture of the finished outfit.

~Shoto listened intently as you continued on explaining what would look best on him and questioned if he wanted to make any changes. He thought it was nice to have a say in what he wanted to wear, instead of it being decided for him. Every time, he'd feel uncomfortable wearing whatever the other tailors made for him, but he didn't want to waste their hard effort. Even if he did not appreciate the suit.

~This was a new experience for him and he liked it. You weren't pushing him to make the suit from the most expensive and uncomfortable materials. On the contrary, you let him feel the fabrics and then decide what he wanted.

~For once in his life, he enjoyed the suit tailoring process.

~"Oh, I apologize. I am rambling again." You looked downcast, embarrassed.

~"It's quite alright, but about the vest, could it be made from a fabric with a pattern instead?" he politely asked.

~"Of course! Which one would you prefer?" You pointed to the gray fabrics that were each differently patterned.

~"I would like that one." He pointed to a roll that was out of both of your reach.

~"Alright, let me get it for you." You spoke as you grabbed a step ladder and placed it in front of the shelf.

~You grabbed the hem of your dress and carefully climbed up to grab the roll, but forgot how heavy the roll actually was, so you started to lose your balance on the ladder. Shoto noticed your struggle and swiftly came to your aid by grabbing the roll from the other end with one hand while the other went to your back.

~"Careful, you could fall and injure yourself." He cautioned you and you blushed slightly.

~"T-Thank you, I'll be more careful next time." You said and placed the roll on the table.

~You continued on designing the suit while your brother William kept your other guests entertained. Soon you two came up with a plan and Shoto seemed happy with it. All of the men left the boutique shortly after with Shoto promising he'll come again later that week for the first fitting.

~For some reason, you were looking forward to meeting him again.

~"Goodness! That was intense." You sighed heavily as you sat down on the couch with your sketch-notepad on your lap.

~"Not sure what you were expecting. They are a part of the Todoroki family and they tend to thrive for perfection. So of course they would want the perfect suit." William sat next to you.

~"Still. What really made this appointment easier was that this time the customer wasn't demanding ridiculous things or asking for a lower price. They even paid the 50% upfront without even batting an eye." You recalled.

~"They know what they are doing, and as long as we do what we're paid for, we won't be having any problems." He said.

~"Talking about problems, I'm still kind of upset about what Mr. Todoroki said..."

~"I understand your issue (Name), but it's better to just let it go. We must know our place, and that is below them." He reminded you and you sighed in defeat.

~"You're right…

~~~

~The day of the first fitting came, and Shoto Todoroki walked inside the boutique accompanied by the same butler as last time, except this time his father wasn't there.

~This fact brought some form of relief to him as he wasn't sure how much longer he could tolerate his father's presence. Every minute Shoto spent in the same room as his old man when they had guests over or when they were at some meaningless ball, Shoto would imagine a pocket watch in his mind, count down the seconds and wait until he would be allowed to leave.

~In retrospect, one could say Shoto was happy to be in the small boutique.

~It was a perfect excuse to be away from home for an hour longer than "intended". And since he wouldn't be allowed to move out of the household until he got married, these kinds of excuses were the types he was seeking for more often than not. And he gladly took every one of them.

~The familiar soft ring of the bell a top of the door signaled his arrival and shortly footsteps jogged out of the back room. It was the male tailor, William. Shoto looked around the boutique and didn't see the other tailor.

~"Ah, Good morning Sir! If my memory's not mistaken, you came in for a first fitting, am I right?" William said with the same enthusiasm as Shoto witnessed last time. This time however William's eyes looked a bit tired, which made Shoto wonder if the man had not slept enough.

~Why would he be concerned? He too has nights when he had to be working every once in a while. It was normal, nothing too serious.

~"Yes. You don't need to rush anything, I can wait until you're done with your current work." Shoto informed while taking off his hat.

~"Oh, I am sorry if you forgot, but I'm not the one responsible for your suit. I'll see if my sister is available. Please have a seat." William responded and disappeared into the back room again. Shoto paused for a moment but then shrugged off his coat and gave it to his butler to hold.

~That's right, how could he forget.

~The white and red-haired male made himself comfortable on the couch as he silently thought. He felt like he was lucky to have you as his tailor. You sounded so inspired, motivated, and excited as you designed his suit. People with a passion for what they did, more often performed better than those who didn't.

~And it showed on the finished product. He wanted to know more about how you worked. How passionate one could be about something. It interested him for some reason.

~A few minutes passed by and there was no sign of either of the siblings, not even a sound could be heard. He wasn't getting impatient, but rather curious about what was keeping (Name).

~He didn't need to think about it much longer when he heard rapid heel clicks coming from the back room. Soon (Name) stood in the door frame with a pile of clothing in her hands, she bowed in courtesy.

~"I apologize for the wait. I was in the middle of sewing and you apparently told William that you could wait. Oh, and how are you?" You walked over to him. Now that you stood closer, Shoto could see the similar dark circles under your eyes too. For some reason, the sight made him sad this time around.

~"No need to apologize, I am in no hurry. And I am feeling good."

~"Alright then, let's start." You placed the pile of clothing on a small round table next to the mirror and handed him the fully finished white dress shirt and pants. Shoto took them and walked behind the folding screen to change.

~ a Few minutes later, he walked out and looked himself over in front of the mirror.

~"How does it feel? Any itchy spots? Is the fitting to your liking?" You questioned. Lightly tugging his shirt to the correct places and brushing off any hair or invisible dust on his shoulders out of instinct. You didn't realize it but Shoto noticed what you were doing, but he stayed silent.

~"They suit me perfectly, and I don't feel itchy at all." He commented as he looked at himself in the mirror. He really wasn't one to admire himself when he was in front of a mirror, but this time he couldn't help but look at himself as maybe for the first time in his life he felt comfortable while also looking good.

~"So nothing needs to be changed?"

~"No." He confirmed.

~"Excellent. Now let's try the vest." You said as you walked the few steps over to the round table. "I will have to apologize, for the vest is not completely finished." You held the piece of clothing behind Shoto, gesturing that you would like for him to put it on. Shoto carefully bent his arms back and stuck his arms through the holes as you helped him to pull it on.

~The unfinished garment had strings hanging from everywhere, unsewn seams, and buttonless holes. Even so, it looked exactly like he imagined it would. The shade of grey and the patterns were very much to his liking and he could already imagine how much better it would look once the buttons were sewed on and the whole piece was tidied up.

~"I like it very much." He commented as he shifted so he could see it from different angles.

~"I'm glad it is to your liking." You nodded as you scribbled extra notes on your notepad.

~"May I ask what you are writing?" Shoto inquired curiously.

~"I'm writing some notes. Now that I see you dressed in the clothing, I now have a better picture in mind what details I can add to your jacket since it will be the most eye-catching garment out of all the others."

~Shoto stood there before the mirror, where it would have looked like he was looking at himself but in actuality, he was looking at the woman behind him in the mirror. He couldn't explain how he was still mesmerized by how much work and effort you were putting into his suit.

~In this day and age, most tailors wouldn't give way too much thought to what they were sewing. It was all about how many pieces of clothing they could sell with the least amount of time and expense because they had families to feed and couldn't afford to waste time.

~But here you were. Putting so much effort into a suit that many men like himself would only use a few, if not only once, and then have another one made.

~Shoto can't count all the times a suit was tailored for him because after he wore it once, he would throw it away, for it was too uncomfortable or it tore easily. He had a few suits that he liked, but they weren't too formal. More so for running errands and such.

~"I'm quite impressed with your commitment to your work." Shoto turned to you as you were still scribbling on the paper. You stopped as you heard him speak.

~"Pardon?" You were caught off guard by his question.

~"Don't get me wrong, I wasn't implying that I thought you would do a bad job. I'm implying that I'm surprised at how much thought you seem to put into the clothes you make." He clarified. You stood there for a moment thinking about how to respond.

~"You could say I am passionate about the suits and dresses that I make." You temporarily pocketed your notes and pencil into your dress’s pocket while gesturing for him to take off the vest. Shoto complied and gave it to you.

~"Growing up, my family didn't have enough money to buy new clothes. So I always admired all the people with gorgeous dresses and fancy suits along with decorated headpieces and hats. Only to dream to someday own such pieces of clothing myself." You recalled as you sat down on the couch and started scribbling into your notebook again.

~"My mother was always busy working around the house, so usually I along with William were the ones who patched up our family's clothes with a rusted needle. Over time I and William got quite good at sewing and made it into a small business amongst the neighbors who didn't know how to sew." You continued.

~"As years passed and we got better at sewing, our parent's health only weakened. Before they passed, our mother told us to do what we were passionate about and to do our absolute best at it." You finished with your notes and stood up to motion to the boutique.

~"That's exactly what we did. We sold everything we owned, took a small loan, and bought this boutique and all the equipment, fabric, and necessities to open a tailoring business with all the money we had. We made a name for ourselves with the quality formal wear we sold and here we are." You finished the story with a smile, remembering all the hard times you and your brother had to endure to be where you are right now. Looking back, you didn't regret anything.

~While you sat on the couch talking away, Shoto stayed put and listened to your every word. After hearing how much you worked and endured in your life to be where you are now, he felt so intrigued by you. a Woman who became something from nothing along with her brother, while his job and fortune were practically guaranteed from the moment he was born.

~You and your brother deserve respect for working so much and sacrificing sleep for your craft, but some people don't always give any because they are wealthier. In Shoto's mind, it's pathetic. To act ungrateful and more important only because they are wealthier than the person they are buying from.

~'How unfair.' Shoto thought. And there's nothing he could really do about it.

~"That's a very inspiring story." Shoto commented with a hint of emotion he rarely shows as he stepped behind the folding screen to change out of the clothes back to his own.

~"You think so?" You called from the other side as you folded the vest and hung it over your arm and waited for him to finish.

~"Yes, it's very inspiring in my opinion to hear such stories. It proves that people can be worth much more than some perceive." He said and you didn't know what to say. From the moment you first saw this split-hair-colored male, you knew he would be an unusual customer. But surely you weren't expecting him to think so highly of people "lower" than him.

~He talked with you without the usual snappish, rich people attitude, which by itself already hinted to you that he didn't care about the difference between the social classes. He didn't even seem to mind when you talked minutes upon minutes about his ordered clothes or your passion for sewing.

~'He indeed is an unusual customer.' You thought.

~"Should we arrange another time for another fitting?" Shoto inquired as he handed the clothes back to you in a neatly folded pile. You nodded to him as you took the clothes.

~"Let's do to that, I'm confident that by then I will have at least a jacket ready for you to try on, However, I can't promise if it will have any details..." You trailed off as you dug around under the front desk for an appointment book. You let out a small 'aha!' when your fingers hit the said book.

~You dug it out and opened it at the page you or William wrote last. "Hmmm, I'm free next Thursday at 8 AM." You proposed. He nodded.

~"That will work." You nodded and started writing away with the ink pen. a few seconds went by when he suddenly spoke.

~"I apologize, but could you do a small request of mine?" You looked up at him when you finished writing.

~"What were you thinking?" You inquired, closing the book in front of you.

~"Do you decorate other pieces of clothing such as top hats?" You quirked your eyebrow at the request.

~"I've done it a few times, but usually that's the hat makers job." You spoke honestly.

~"I was only thinking of something small to make it match the suit, and I already have a hat you could decorate." You thought about it.

~"Sure, you'll just have to pay a bit extra for the finished suit because I decorated the hat too." You reminded him.

~"Of course, thank you." He smiled slightly, satisfied that he managed to convince you. You blushed at the sight and you cleared your throat quietly to distract yourself.

~"Pleasure doing business with you." You said with a smile. He nodded and bid you goodbye.

~Once Shoto stepped out of the boutique followed by his butler, whose existence you completely forgot about, you let out a loud sigh as you slumped onto the front desk. Thinking about the nice things Shoto said to you and his gentle smile.

~'What is wrong with me?' You pinched the bridge of your nose blushing as you couldn't stop your mind replaying the past half an hour in your head. You stayed there for a moment when William emerged from the back room, holding a cup of tea in his hand while the other rested in his front pocket. He must be taking a break.

~"How is it going?" He sipped at his tea.

~"Well... I have a lot of work on my hands, that's for sure."

~~~~~~~~~~

#shoto #shoto todoroki #shoto todoroki x reader #shoto x reader #xreader #bnha #mha #bnha fanfiction #mha fanfiction #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #part 1 #fluff

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bugabash · 4 years ago

Text

Hold me while we Fall

Miraculous x Attack on Titan au

Fear was a complex that almost everyone within the walls grew to have as second nature. No one had seen a titan besides the scouts since the walls were erected, and the schools taught the children about the monsters beyond the wall in few details. But to Marinette it wasn’t the creatures that fascinated her, it was the world beyond. She had studied books on the wonders outside. But they never taught it in school, and she was chastised for bringing it up. So, the young girl kept it to herself, only sharing it with her sister. She feared the titans beyond the walls, everyone did, it was drilled into them from birth that they were the cattle to the wolves outside, but her family always made sure it was the furthest thing from her mind.

But that was before, and now everything has changed.

AO3

Chapter 1: Marinette Dupain-Cheng

The year was 845 withing the walls of the Shiganshina district. Marinette Dupain-Cheng stood in her room that resided in her home above her father’s small bakery. She was eleven and a half, the half especially important to her when she defended her size to others. She was small, always hiding under her long dark hair that fell to her waist. But despite this her personality always shone through, making her extremely well liked with her peers. And with this came a very protective nature from them over her, feeling the need to shield her from everything, even from some of the stories of the Titans. But no one protected her more than her older sister, Tikki.

Tikki was fifteen, tall, beautiful, her long dark hair constantly in perfectly placed high pigtails, never a strand out of place, reaching down to her waist. She had bluebell eyes just like Marinette, freckles decorating her nose like an artist had painted them on her. She carried their mother’s feature more prominently than Marinette did which she embraced with pride. She was the definition of beauty. She was loved by all, known for her cheerful spirit and, well, being good at almost everything really. She was smart, charitable and all together a good person. She protected her sister from everything, determined to let Marinette grow up without the fear she had grown up with.

Marinette stood in front of her small homemade mannequin with her mauve dress she had been working on for a month now resting on it. Tikki was draped on her bed across their shared room, chattering away about her latest teachings from one of their father’s friends. Marinette was so used to it now, she just focused on her fingers as they threaded the needle through the fabric, counting the last few stitches in her head.

Four, three, two, one.

“It’s done!” She squeaked, interrupting her sister and causing her to jump and sit up, staring at Marinette with a confused expression. “It’s done! It’s d4one! It’s done!” She pulled it off the mannequin and spun around, her hair fanning out around her. Tikki laughed and stood up, jumping around excitedly and ran over. Marinette held it up to show it off to her big sister proudly, this was her first dress she did completely by herself.

“Wow! That’s so pretty, Nettie!” Tikki complimented, smiling proudly at her, “wanna try it on? You can show it off while we go to the market later!”

Marinette gasped and nodded, wriggling out of her current dress and threw it aside, standing in just her thin, white petty coat. Tikki helped her and soon she was in her dress. It was knee length, the red stitches standing out delicately against the mauve fabric. It was long sleeve with white ruffled at the cuffs, a lace like pattern around the neck and a tied up back. She spun around and squeaked with joy, it wasn’t perfect, but it was hers.

“Oh, Miss Marinette, you are the most beautiful ladybug in the land!” Tikki exclaimed with a playful curtsey, using her pet name for Marinette with a cheeky smile.

“I’m the prettiest Ladybug in the world!” Marinette giggled, jumping up and down, “let’s go show Papa!” She grabbed her sister’s hand and pulled her along, running downstairs into their home, she knew he would be downstairs in the bakery. She opened the door leading to the bakery and skipped down.

“Papa!” She called out excitedly, her father turning and smiling at her, “I finished my dress!” She spun around showing it off before running and jumping into her fathers strong arms. He laughed and picked her up with ease, hugging her tight.

“You look exquisite my little love bug!” Her father praised, beaming happily at both of them, “it looks amazing! Did Tikki help at all?”

“Nope, she did it all by herself!” Tikki replied with a smile, “little Ladybug, I need to go into the market, do you want to show off your new dress around town?” Marinette smiled broadly and jumped out of her father’s arms. “Ok good, go put on your boots and a coat.”

“Okay, now you be careful girls, okay? Please be home before the sun starts to set.” Their father warned as he turned back to his work. “You know the rules.”

“Yes Papa, we will be back soon, promise.” Tikki nodded, walking over and kissing his cheek before putting her own coat on.

“Papa, can we have the special bread with dinner? To celebrate my dress?” Marinette asked as she hopped around, trying to put her one boot on.

Their father chuckled heartedly, “of course, anything for my main girls. Now, could you please pick up this today.” He handed Tikki a small list and some money, giving her the same look he did whenever they went out, Marinette never knew what it was but it looked like a serious look. She was still too young to be told much, which she hated. She felt old enough.

“Yes Papa, we will be back soon.” Tikki smiled and pocketed the note in her thin fabric bag slung over her shoulder.

“Bye papa!” Marinette yelled and hugged him tight, kissing his cheek too before letting go.

He waved them off, laughing at how Marinette did one last twirl around a customer before leaving. They stepped out of the bakery and Marinette smiled, she closed her eyes and enjoyed the warmth on her face, the wind blowing through her hair and the sound of the birds chirping around them. She opened her eyes and looked around at the world around her. Everyone was busy, children playing with others, mothers working with their babes on their backs, men working hard for their families. Life was hard, but it was happy, simple, peaceful. She loved her town, loved her life really. She had amazing friends and an amazing family. She looked up at her chatting sister, smiling.

As they walked Marinette looked out at the huge walls that protected them. She wondered if the monsters would ever get in, or if one day she could go beyond the wall. She knew it wasn’t possible for humans to live outside, but she still wondered. As her father and Tikki liked to tell her she was destined to meet someone and raise a family. Contribute to the town and survive. She wasn’t too sure on it all, but she did as she was told.

They reached the market soon enough, and something caught their eye, Tikki grabbing Marinette and pulling her off the road into the crowds. Marinette gasped, eyes wide.

The scouts, she had seen them many times before, saw their wounded and saw the families that grieved. Their neighbour lost three sons just last month. She remembered the blood curdling scream, her father had told her that the sons were most likely eaten by the Titans, explaining that that was why she must stay within the walls and stay away from the military.

Today they looked exhausted, almost defeated, the blood standing out on their clothes. Tikki gripped her tight, pulling Marinette against her body.

“Those poor men and women,” She whispered, Marinette looking up at her then back at the soldiers, “Marinette, always respect anyone who wears that uniform. They have given up everything to protect us. Do you understand?” Marinette nodded, looking back at them.

She caught the eye of one young man who was on horseback. His hair was pure black, the top of his hair long and in a bun, shorter pieced falling out here and there, while the underside was shaved to a fade with what seemed to be a haphazardly shaved pawprint on the side. He looked over at them, he must have spotted Tikki, she always caught peoples’ eye. He had green eyes with small pupils, he was handsome but looked young to be in the scouts. His jaw was covered in blood, his cape missing and his uniform stained, though it didn’t stand out much against his black t-shirt. He raised a brow, and tilted his head curiously, examining them. Marinette blinked before she waved, smiling pleasantly. This caught him by surprise, blinking a few times before he smiled and waved back. He had a peculiar smile, his canines looked almost catlike with the small extra length of them and it made her smile more. He was different, just like her and her sister were. Not to the extend but still. He seemed to find it amusing and winked at Marinette, laughing to himself before he turned his attention back to the front.

They watched them leave, the crowds whispering between themselves, Tikki’s grip never letting go of Marinette. Tikki quickly herded Marinette away, “let’s go.” She whispered.

“Did you see that scout?” Marinette asked as she walked, looking down at the stone she had started kicking. “He looked different, like us.”

“What?” Tikki asked, taken aback with a raised brow.

“His smile, I think he looks like he has teeth like a cat.”

“A cat?”

“Yeah, didn’t you see? I like his smile, its unique like us.”

Tikki stayed silent and eyed Marinette before looking forward again, “you know why we are unique, don’t you? Papa said he discussed it with you.”

“Yeah, because we are half Chinese, or oriental as he said.” She answered honestly, “he said we are rare and that there aren’t many of us left. That’s what makes us so special.”

“Well yes, but that is also why we must be extra careful and why we must not be out after sunset.” Tikki explained, her brows furrowed. “You know about the people that could harm us?”

“Yeah, I know, but I don’t think everyone is bad.” Marinette replied with a shrug, she hated these conversations, she didn’t like to think about all of that… of mama…

“I know, but there are bad people out there.” Tikki said before stopping and looking around. The world had almost gone quiet, the wind dropped, and the birds stopped singing. Marinette blinked and looked around too.

“Marinette…” Tikki whispered, grabbing her sister’s shoulder.

Marinette bit her lip and looked around, “what is it?”

Tikki looked like she was starting to panic and pulled Marientte aside. She crouched in front of her and held her shoulders, looking her in the eye. “Okay, I need you to listen to me. Never put yourself in danger, got it?” Tikki stopped and held onto Marinette’s shoulders tighter. Tikki’s blue eyes looked scared. “There are more scary things than the people who could take us. I have done everything to protect you from the reality of this life, but please, if anything happens, ever, you run, you hide, and you do whatever you can to survive.”

“Tikki… What- what are you talking about?” Marinette asked in confusion. She may not know much but she wasn’t an idiot, she knew there were dangers beyond and within the wall. But what was she talking about?

“Trust me, okay? Just listen to my words.” Tikki cupped Marinette’s face, “you are the most important thing to me, and I promised mama and papa that I would protect you from everything, let you grow up but something… something about those soldiers. I can’t lie to you anymore.” She sighed, Marinette felt tears in her eyes at the mention of her mama, “listen to me, if ever something goes wrong, you look after yourself before anyone else, okay? I know it sounds awful, but I need you to survive.” Marinette shook her head, that was an awful thing to say. “Life is survival, it’s not survival of the fittest anymore, its survival of the smartest. You are small, but strong, you’re smart, you use that big brain of yours, and you survive.”

“I-I don’t understand.” Marinette said with a frown, “why are you telling me this? Why can’t I help people if there is danger?”

“I…I….” Tikki looked away, biting her lip, Marinette felt her pulse through the hands on her cheeks. “I just… Promise me!” Tikki looked more serious than she ever had.

Marinette looked at her in confusion, where had this come from? This was so out of the blue, it was like Tikki knew something she didn’t. But what? “Tikki, I don’t understand.”

Tikki opened her mouth but she was interrupted when a crack of thunder echoed, a yellow strike of lightning appearing just beyond the wall. Everyone froze and watched, she had never heard silence like that. Tikki stood up and grabbed Marinette.

What was happening? She saw the huge hand on the wall and gasped. No… It couldn’t be… The wall was over fifty metres tall, no titan was ever that big.

“Oh god… no…” Tikki gasped, Marinette looked around, everyone was still, eyes on the wall. She turned her eyes to the wall and covered her mouth, her blood ran cold. A sweat overtook her body and she started shaking. That was when she saw the face appear. It was all muscle, even from this distance she could make out the eyes and teeth. “Marinette, run!” She heard her sister scream before a gust of hot wind overtook them, rubble flying everywhere then a loud bang. They were flung back into the air, her grip on Tikki gone as she screamed. She didn’t know how long they were in the air but when they landed it was hard and Marinette landed on someone who wrapped their arms around her. She had hit her head, she knew that much from the pain and the wetness trickling down her face.

She had the wind knocked out of her, her vision going white and a pain in her side stifled her scream. She heard screaming around her, and when her vision returned, she was on her back lying on another person who had their arms tightly around her. Dust was everywhere, people running around them and she could hear someone screaming her name. Wait, she wasn’t on Tikki?

“Hey, are you okay?” She heard a young boy’s voice ask under her in a yell, “Hey, can you hear me? Listen to me!” She coughed and struggled against the arms, he let go of her and she rolled off. She rolled onto her knees, her dress was torn slightly over her left side from their impact and blood was dripping onto the white lace around her neck She felt hands on her face and looked up, meeting green eyes. Time stood still and she stared at him in silence. He looked around her age, big green eyes, a cut under his left eye and short blonde hair. He looked so groomed he could be from the inner walls. He looked her over before grabbing her under her arms and pulled her up to standing, grasping her hand and pulling her away from the chaos towards who was screaming her name.

She let him pull her along, her body moving on its own as she stared back from where they came from. Boulders lay on top of people, blood everywhere, limbs lying across the road. Marinette gasped and her eyes widened. She felt her innocence shatter, felt everything of her being shatter. She had been so sheltered, and now…

“Hey, come on, you need to run, I cant carry you, please!” She heard the raspy voice yell in a panic, turning her attention to him with wide eyes. He saw them and gasped, looking past her and saw what she had just seen, pulling her behind a wall and hiding her against the cold stone. Realisation had hit him on what she had just seen, and so he pulled his cloak off and wrapped it around her, pulling up the hood. “Don’t look, I have you, I promise!” He grabbed her hand again and they were running again. Marinette gripped onto the boy for dear life, tears streaming down her face.

They’re dead… The titans, they were in. She didn’t know what was going to happen! Where was Tikki?

“Where are we going? Where is my sister?” Marinette screamed, she was half running half being dragged, but then she tripped up on her skirt with a scream and caused them both to fall, scraping her knee in the process as they rolled away, hitting a wall and stopped. The boy had his arms around her again as he kept her close to his chest as them stampede of people flew past, panting heavily.

“Are you okay? Can you still run?” He asked softly as he looked down at her, blinking when he saw her wide, terrified eyes. He frowned and tilted his head back, looking to where she was looking and froze, 50 feet away from them stood… a titan.

“No… How is that possible.” The boy whispered, sitting them up and pulling her back against his chest, being held close to him as she sobbed quietly. They were frozen, his grip on her tight around her, ruffling her dress between his fists. “A Titan…” Before them stood a huge humanoid creature, his grin ear from ear filled with large teeth, his hair long and black, his tall body muscled. Marinette started kicking her legs, trying to get away and grabbed at the arms around her, screaming for help. “I got you!” He cried as she struggled in his arm before lifting her up with a grunt, shifting her onto his back and began running as Marinette wrapped her arms around his neck, gripping onto his shirt for dear life as he hooked his hands under her knees.

Marinette looked ahead and saw Tikki between the terrified crowds, she was with the scout from earlier, he had Tikki over his shoulder and was looking around as if he was looking for someone. She was kicking and screaming, eyes falling on Marinette and she stopped struggling, screaming for her with her hand outreached, causing the scout to look back, his eyes widening.

Marinette screamed out, “Tikki!” She gripped onto the boy tighter who had a determined look on his face, his eyes focused on the scout. “Tikki! Help-” before she could finish her sentence a titan grabbed them out of no where, causing them both to scream and grab onto each other, the boy twisting and pulling her against his chest. The boy started punching the giant fingers around them, his other arm holding her tight against him, Marinette never let her eyes look away from the toothy grinned giant staring at them in hunger. “Tikki!” Marinette screamed.

“Marinette! NO!” Tikki screamed, Marinette looked over at her to see her fighting the scout who was yelling something at her. He didn’t have his gear, Marinette noticed, her heart sinking as she turned her attention back to the monster in front of them. He was raising them up, the grip getting stronger, the air being squeezed from them. The boy yelped and looked at her in fear. She looked back, tears streaming down her face. They stared at each other before he smiled at her small, lacing their fingers together and keeping their eyes locked.

“Just keep looking at me, okay?” He said softly, she nodded and gripped onto his hand, sniffing and wiping her nose on her arm as she cried. “It’ll be okay, what’s your name by the way?”

“M-Marinette.” She whispered in reply, shaking and stifling a scream as a big hand started to reach for them, the boy squeezing her hand more, the other arm around her tightening, pulling her so her face was against his chest, resting his head on hers.

“I’m Adrien.” He replied, he was shaking as well, tears falling. “I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you.” She shook her head, eyes starting to turn towards the hand that was so close now she could feel the warmth, her eyes widening. But Adrien wasn’t having it, tightening his arm again and making her look back up at him. “Keep looking at me or hide, just don’t look. I got you.” He whispered.

The grip on them tightened and her eyes shot open as fingers grabbed the cloak fastened around her, lifting her out of the hand, she screamed for dear life as Adrien tried desperately to keep his strong grip on her. “Adrien!” She screeched, gripping his hands for dear life. He was screaming for her, desperate to get her back. “NO! NO! ADRIEN! TIKKI! PAPA!!!” She screamed at the top of her lungs, her grip being pulled from Adrien’s her heart stopping and her eyes widening. She locked eyes with the terrified boy, he looked like he was about to be sick.

She wasn’t sure if it was because he had lost her, or because he was next but the boy started screaming and hitting at the hand again. She looked at the titan as it held her up to his face, staring at her with empty, dead, hungry eyes. She was hanging from the cloak, it was slowly pressing against her neck, making it harder and harder to breath. She was sure she had wet herself, feeling warmth go down her legs. This was it; this was the end. She watched as he opened his mouth, the stench was rancid, making her gag and cover her mouth with her trembling hands. She started screaming for help again, kicking at the Titan, she didn’t want to die.

She felt time move in slow motion as she was lifted up higher, closing her eyes and hugging herself. She heard Adrien screaming for her desperately, but her hearing left her, a soft hum taking over. Was her body getting her ready to die? She had read something about it, a fight or flight within the body, protects you from the trauma or the pain to come so to speak. Adrenaline, was it? But she wasn’t sure it was true until now.

Then suddenly she wasn’t being held up as air filled her lung from the loss of pressure on her neck, feeling the air from falling overwhelming her. It’s over… It’s over… But instead of being bitten in half or feeling the wetness of a tongue, she was hit by another body, eyes flying open to see the ends of blonde hair as she was suddenly going another direction. Reality set in and the haze faded quickly, she wrapped her arms and legs around him as he did to her, burying her head in his neck as she braced for impact. And boy was it a hard one.

They hit a corner of a wall, spinning in the air and slamming into the floor, both gasping and coughing for air. She opened her eyes wide as she took a deep breath and gripped the boy that lay on top of her, covering her from danger. She looked back at the Titan to see it was missing his hands, swiping at the soldier who had appeared. She saw the roses and knew exactly why they were there. She didn’t have much time to think after that as the boy got up and pulled her up, grabbing her and flinging her on his back, running as fast as he could. He was limping as he ran, his groans while he panted telling her that he was injured just like she was.

By the time Marinette could register what was going on fully she was pulled off his back despite her screams of protest to be met by a tight hug. She blinked and looked up, “Marinette!” Tikki… She found her! Marinette broke down and hugged her tight, her sister hitched her up and held her close to her body, and they were running again, Marinette clung on for dear life. She opened her eyes and saw the dark-haired scout behind her, the boy draped over his back. He looked exhausted but still clung to the young man, Adrien’s head hung over his shoulder.

They ran in the screaming crowds, avoiding the many titans that were eating everyone they could. But Marinette kept her eyes on the boy, he had risked his life for her, a stranger. Why did he do that? After what her sister had said to her earlier, she was confused to why he had risked his life to save her?

After what seemed like ages they suddenly stopped, the older teens panting heavily. Tikki shifted Marinette with a grunt and she could feel that Tikki was wet from sweat. “Marinette, I need you to run, okay?” She whispered, placing the girl down who stood on shaking legs, nodding and looking back at the scout who didn’t look like he was struggling as much, but the boy on his back fought against him and jumped to his feet, running to Marinette and took her hand, eyes fixed on her and full of something Marinette had never seen before. She gulped and looked at their clasped hands before she looked around fearfully.

The scout didn’t look pleased but grunted, Tikki looked at the scout who just frowned and started running. The boy pulled Marinette with him, Tikki running behind them. Marinette looked around as she was pulled along, people were being eaten, trampled, crushed, there was nothing but death and despair. How could they survive this?

After not too long they were approaching the main gate in wall Maria, Marinette looked around desperately for her father, but never saw him. They all slowed down, gaining their breath back slowly. They joined the crowd, heading slowly towards the arch. The one flaw of the districts that lay outside the wall was there was only one exit. She remembered her father complaining about it constantly. She looked back at her sister, seeing Tikki was next to the scout who Marinette had figured out his name was Plagg. They were arguing in hushed voices, she wanted to ask Adrien what was going on but she didn’t know if she could speak yet.

Did they know each other? The way they were arguing and their body language spoke a thousand words. But she had never seen this man until today. But then again here she was clinging to the boy next to her, their fingers interlocked and her other hand gripping onto his arm for dear life. He didn’t seem to mind, looking up at him and saw he was looking around with a serious expression. Now that things had slowed down, she got a proper look at him.

He was taller than her by maybe a few inches, his face young and his green eyes bright. The right side of his face was covered in blood, his cut dirty and deep under his eye, another cut on his forehead. She didn’t think she looked any better, feeling the dried blood on her face and the pain from her cuts. She looked down at his dark green shirt and saw red over the side they had hit the corner of the wall on, her brows furrowing. He was injured, and he still managed to carry her out of there.

“He’s my brother.” Adrien spoke softly, turning her gaze back up to his face, he was looking down at her now, smiling small, “Plagg, the one talking with your sister, Tikki was it?” Marinette nodded, looking at the two arguing teens, “he’s a scout, the only reason he’s in Shiganshina is because of me.” He looked down darkly, his eyes looked sad for some reason. “But, hey, that meant I was there to catch you.” He looked at her and smiled sadly.

She blinked up at him, she didn’t know what to say, her whole mind felt shattered. She opened her mouth but nothing came out. Why couldn’t she speak? Was she really that weak?

He seemed to understand and nodded, “hey, it’s okay. We have been through a lot today, you don’t have to talk. I’m just glad I could help even one person.” She again blinked, he was so kind, probably the kindest person she had ever met. Why save her?

They both looked up when Tikki turned to them, “stay close, we need to get onto the boats, but there are a lot of people in front of us. You stay by us no matter what, okay?” They both nodded and she sighed, eyeing their clasped hands before turning back, Plagg whispered a comment that caused Tikki to hit his arm, telling him off again.

“Plagg, we need to get them away from here.” Marinette heard her sister say, eyeing her curiously. Tikki’s hair was ruffled, her pigtails messed and some hair had fallen out, framing her face. She had a small cut on her cheek. But what stood out the most was that she looked terrified.

“Yeah, yeah, I know that, sugarcube.” The scout replied with a scowl, “what do you think I’m doing exactly?”

“Well, so far my sister was almost eaten, let snot even bring up the state of them, and my dad is probably dead!” Tikki yelled back at him, pouting as she glared.

Suddenly they heard the footsteps, freezing and spinning around. Their eyes wide. Adrien gasped and pulled Marinette close, his eyes wide and his jaw clenched. In the distance they saw a huge titan sprinting towards them, his arms flinging around him, his jaw slack. Marinette screamed and was suddenly pulled to running by Adrien, turning her gaze forward the saw Tikki being pulled along by Plagg.

They had got out! How were they in danger again! This couldn’t be happening! She looked back just as the titan hit the ground, gasping as she saw the rubble heading towards them she looked at Adrien and saw he hadn’t seen it, his eyes focused on the road ahead. HE had saved her all this time, and if that debris hit them he would be hurt or possibly die. She looked back and gasped, she had to do something! She let go of his hand, causing him to gasp and look at her. She didn’t hesitate and shoved him hard, causing him to yell her name and fall to the side just as the debris hit her. She was hit hard, being smacked back, tumbling until she skidded to a halt, her body limp.

All she felt was pain, her vision went white, and she felt her dress suddenly getting wet. She tried breathing but it was laboured, and she heard gargling a bit. Her body was shaking, the pain coming from her left side of her face down to her shoulder. What was wrong with her? Was she dead? Was she dying? What about Adrien?

Suddenly she felt hands on her neck, she heard her sister far in the distance and then strong arms were carrying her and she was bouncing in them, the wind blowing over her. She heard others yelling and the whiteness started to fade. She was staring up at the sky, her mouth hanging open slightly, gasping for breath. Why did it feel like she was drowning? Was she drowning? No that was silly, she was in someone’s arms.

She felt someone had her hand, a soft voice speaking to her until they finally stopped. She felt hardness under her and suddenly her sister’s face was above her and she felt pressure on her neck, cheek and shoulder. She looked around without moving her head, Tikki’s tears catching her attention. Tikki? Why was she crying? What was wrong with her?

“Marinette? Oh god, oh shit, please, don’t die, no, please don’t die!” Tikki was saying, crying softly. “Plagg, do something!”

“Do what exactly? Do I look like a doctor? I’m doing everything I can!” The young man hissed back, he tore the bottom of Tikki’s skirt and started wrapping it around Marinette’s neck. “Just keep pressure! She’s lucky she’s even fucking alive!”

“Why did she do that?” She heard Adrien, he sounded distressed.

“She was saving you, if she didn’t do that you would be just as bad, possibly worse. She has some guts, I will give her that.” Plagg replied, leaning over her and looking into her eyes. She looked back, examining the dark green eyes, his small pupils getting even smaller as he frowned. “Just shut up and keep her calm!” She must have looked like she was panicking because suddenly Adrien’s face appeared as Plagg’s disappeared and looked down at her.

Marinette tried to speak but it sounded gargled, she felt him take her hand and her eyes darted toward him, seeing the dark faced boy. She should have spoken up earlier, now she can’t speak. She can’t thank this boy. A complete stranger who risked his life, who was covered in both his and her blood, banged up from protecting her. And she couldn’t even thank him. Adrien… He saw her panic and smiled sweetly, kissing her knuckles. She suddenly felt tired, darkness taking over quickly. “It’s okay, we got you, we are on the boat heading to Wall Rose, we are-“ Before he could finish his sentence there was an explosion and Plagg dove over Marinette, shielding her.

“Fuck!” He cursed and sat back up as Adrien took over his place, shielding Marinette, turning towards the wall and they all stared in silence. Marinette wanted to see but the pain was too bad so she gripped onto Adrien’s shirt. He looked down at her with an expression that scared her. She felt her eyelids flutter and darkness slowly took over, the last thing she see was Adrien’s face, his hands suddenly flying to her neck as he started yelling something. And then… nothing.

oOo

When Marinette first awoke she felt groggy and sore, her eyes barely opening. She groaned, lifting her hand and felt the rough bandaging from below her nose down to her breasts. Her mouth was covered so she couldn’t speak. She blinked a few times and looked up, expecting her sister or even Adrien’s face, but she was met by golden eyes under big, framed glasses. She blinked in surprise and stared at the dark-skinned girl standing over her, she had a heart shaped face and had fiery, long hair in a high pony, pieces framing her face. She was in a nurses uniform, but she looked the same age as Marinette.

“Hey girl.” The girl spoke chipperly, “you’re okay, don’t try to speak though. You’re in Troste district. You got badly banged up, but you’re safe now!” She smiled at her and picked up a clip board examining the paper.

Marinette felt the sheets under her hands, they were rough and they smelt funny. She realised she wasn’t on a bed but the floor, a sheet between her and the hard wood. What happened with the titans? Why was she in Troste?

“Marinette, is it?” She hummed and walked around Marinette, Marinette watched her with a raised brow. “You have internal damage, a big nasty cut from your cheek to your shoulder, some cuts on your face and torso, and some bruising. You really fought for your life, didn’t you?” She looked at Marinette with… admiration? “You’re like those scouts, you’re a superhero!” She dropped to her knees and grabbed Marinette’s hand, Marinette’s eyes widening. “That’s so cool!”

Cool? Marinette didn’t think it was cool. She had just experienced the worst day of her life and she couldn’t do anything right, needing others to save her. She felt like a fool, she felt like a dumb child. Why did no one ever tell her how bad they really were? She felt so naive. She looked away from Alya and pulled her hand away. Alya blinked and looked at her with a concerned look, her smile falling. Marinette didn’t have the energy to help the girl with her feelings, she was dealing with her own. Her eyes were empty, the sparkle gone, her innocence gone. Hell, everything she thought she was now seemed pathetic. She noticed she wasn’t in that stupid dress she had spent a month or so on, how frivolous it seemed now. She was glad she wasn’t in it, she didn’t want any reminders. Reminders of them, of the death, of how she was useless.

She couldn’t even protect herself, she had to have others save her, protect her, carry her. She was weak. She was worthless. She needed to get stronger, she had to. She would never let anyone suffer because of her again. The only good thing she did today was push that boy out of the way.

“Hey,” Alya dragged her from her thoughts, looking back at the girl. She looked concerned, “you’re safe now. I promise.” She placed her hand on Marinette’s. Marinette wanted to believe her, but she didn’t know what the truth was anymore. “I’m going to stay here with you tonight, okay? Your sister isn’t far, she will be here soon. But I promise, I will stay with you.”

Marinette blinked up and her, tears filling her eyes. She realised then she had been trying so hard to keep it together. Alya smiled and did a quick examination on Marinette, chatting away about how she was helping her mom who was the head nurse here. After she was done, she shuffled under the sheet with Marinette, lying on her back and staring up at the roof. Marinette felt comfort in it. She couldn’t speak but that didn’t matter right now.

Alya stayed with her that night, describing her childhood, telling her everything about herself. Marinette hung on every word, by the time she passed out from exhaustion and pain she felt like she had known Alya since she was a child. She felt at peace in a way, but she felt different. She felt like she was changed forever, the girl she was the day before was gone now.

---

It took Marinette a long time to heal, Tikki hardly leaving her side and eventually becoming a nurse herself so that she was close to Marinette. Alya spent every night with Marinette, making sure Marinette felt alone and comforted her whenever she was sad. The worst night was when she climbed into the sheets and hugged her friend while she sobbed after finding out her father was dead, and soon every night she slept next to Marinette. She didn’t care that they slept on the floor, she refused to sleep anywhere else without Marinette. They were inseparable.

It was a few months before Marinette was asked to speak, the bandages finally removed and the deep sensitive scar standing red and angry against her pale skin. She was used to the dull pain in her jaw, the now scar didn’t hurt as much as when it was a cut, but the pain was still there.

“Okay Marinette, we need you to try to speak.” Tikki said softly, Alya was next to her, she had stolen a mattress from her home and had made herself comfortable next to Marinette, concerned eyes on her best friend.

Marinette gulped, it felt weird not having her mouth covered, She had only had her mouth uncovered to eat or drink, so it felt weird to be completely exposed. So she felt naked sitting there without the bandage, in the baggy green shirt she had found at the bottom of her bed months ago, a small cut on the side. It was Adrien’s, he had washed it and brought it for her. She knew it was, no one knew for sure but she knew in her heart it was his. She chewed her lip and looked at her sister. It took some time but finally the words left her mouth, “where is Adrien?”

Tikki blinked in surprised and furrowed her brows, “Who?” She asked, “wait, the boy?” Marinette nodded, Alya watched her in confusion, “He’s okay, he isn’t here anymore, he’s with his brother with the survey corps, I think. He’s okay.”

Marinette nodded and looked down at her hands in her lap, she had thought of him almost every night but even now his face was blurry. She tried so hard but she couldn’t make out his face clearly. All she saw was the blood, the titan ready to eat her, felt the warmth down her leg as she pissed herself, the chaffing after as she ran for her life. She was destroyed by the experience, but maybe she could do some good from it. She lay back down, rolling over, pulling the blanket over her mouth as comfort. The others looked at her sadly, knowing she needed space. Alya sighed and lay down next to her, hugging her tight.

"Marinette, I promise he is okay. He was here for a little while and he visited you a few times when you were asleep." Tikki said softly, stroking her sister's face. Marinette hid her face, Tikki knew this side of Marinette too well now. She sighed and got up, "okay... I will come back later."

Alya stayed silent as Tikki left before she whispered, "Marinette?"

Marinette looked back at Alya, "yeah?" She replied in a whisper, it felt amazing to be able to speak again.

"Who's Adrien?" Marinette realised her best friend had no clue about what happened to her, she had been silent for months and now it was her turn to use her voice to let Alya know her.

"He's a boy that... He saved me." She croaked, rolling over so they were facing each other. "He gave me this shirt, I know it. He was wearing it." She covered her mouth with the neck of her shirt, looking down. "Do you want to hear about what happened?" And with that Marinette spoke about the worst day of her life for the first time since it happened. The words fell from her lips and a pressure lifted off her chest. By the end she was sobbing, Alya's eyes were wide in horror, her mouth open in shock. That night they fell asleep holding onto each other, Marinette having her first night without any nightmares, and she could make out Adrien's eyes. So she focused on them, holding onto the image for dear life.

---

More months passed and Marinette was now fully healed, or as healed as she was going to get. It had been over a year since the break of wall Maria, Tikki and Marinette were now living with Alya and her family. Marinette’s wounds had healed but she now wore a pale pink, jagged scar from the far left of her cheek down her neck all the way to her collar bone. Because of this she was stared at constantly and they whispered about how she was a survivor. Her hair had grown longer since the fall of Shiganshina so she used her hair to her advantage, hiding under it yet again, and rarely speaking. Tikki constantly told her she was worried about Marinette, but Marinette ignored her. She didn’t want to talk about this stuff with Tikki, she knew she had her own problems and Marinette didn't want to put more on her.

The person she was, the cheerful, talkative girl was completely erased, as if she never existed. She now was quiet, subdued and emotionless. Alya was the only one who got anything out of Marinette, she even managed to make Marinette laugh, a sound Tikki hadn’t heard since the day of the attack. It wasn't that she had no personality anymore or anything, she just didn't have a reason to be cheerful or talk much anymore. Especially with her giant, ugly scar that she hated. Her scar was like a giant sign that read 'I survived the fall of Shiganshina, stare at me please'. She hated the stares but she was used to it now.

The only person she spoke to was Alya, they lay in bed together at night and whispered to each other. Marinette told her of her plans to join the military the coming weeks. Alya argued with her, saying that it was suicide, stating Marinette has only just recovered from her last experience with the titans. Alya wasn’t impressed but eventually promised to come with her to Marinette’s surprise, stating they were in it forever now.

“Alya, we could die.” Marinette whispered, lying on her side looking at her best friend who mimicked her, a frown on her face.

“I don’t care, look at you, I am not letting you go anywhere without me.” Alya retorted.

Marinette frowned, “I don’t need protection. Don't join the military just to keep an eye out for me, you could die!"

“I’m not coming to protect you, I’m coming to support you.” Alya sighed.

“I can do it alone.” Marinette frowned, looking away. She didn’t need anyone else getting hurt for her. "I don't want you to get hurt or end up like me."

“I know that, girl.” Alya replied softly, “but there is nothing wrong with others helping you. And we are in this till death, right?”

Marinette looked at Alya and sighed at their promise, linking their pinky fingers, “Till we die.”

“Till we die.” Alya repeated, grinning. “So when are you going to tell your sister?”

Marinette sighed and played with the string of her shirt, her mind drifting to Adrien again. “I don’t know, but she isn’t going to be exactly happy.”

“That’s the biggest understatement of the year.” Alya snorted, taking her glasses off and placed them aside. “All I will say is good luck, girl.”

Marinette sighed, watching as Alya blew out the candle, she knew she was right, telling Tikki was going to be hell. "You say that but you're the crazy woman following me to our deaths."

"Nah, it's only being crazy if I thought we would die." Alya replied, "which we wont, we are gonna be badasses."

Marinette chuckled and shook her head, "sure."

“Don’t worry about it tonight though, okay? Let’s just focus on getting some sleep tonight.” Alya smiled and got comfy, Marinette smiled, feeling the tug of her scar. She never smiled now because of it, but she never felt shy or like she had to hide from Alya. She could be herself.

"Yeah... Let's see what happens." She said before closing her eyes and drifting off to sleep.

---

Tikki stared at Marinette like she had grown two more heads, her blue eyes wide with fear. “You… no, I… You WHAT!?” She screamed. They were sitting at the dining table in Alya’s house, the two girls sat on one side while Tikki and Mrs Césaire were on the other side. Tikki was standing up, her hands in fists. She looked like she could jump across the table and bundle Marinette up and hide her forever. She was in her nurse’s uniform, they had chosen to tell them now before their shift happened so that they could pack their bags. “You are barely twelve years old!”

“I’m thirteen soon, I am old enough, I’m joining.” Marinette said calmly. She watched her seventeen year old sister look shocked at her words. Marinette looked at her emotionlessly, being stuck in a bed for months not being able to speak and being stuck inside your own head makes you extremely good at handling emotions and stay in control.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Tikki slammed her fists on the table, “it’s a suicide mission joining the military! Do you want to die?”

“No, I don’t. I want to make a difference. I almost died because I was weak, I don’t want to be weak anymore.” Marinette didn’t flinch as Tikki slammed her fist down again, her eyes fixed on Tikki.

“You can’t even comprehend or understand enough to join the military!” Alya gulped next to her, chewing her lip, her own mother staring her down but not saying a word. Tikki wasn’t staying silent.

“Respect anyone who wears that uniform, Marinette.” Marinette said softly, “Remember you said that to me?” Tikki blinked in surprise, stepping back. “I remember you said that minutes before we ran for our lives,” Tikki’s eyes widened and she gasped, “before I was almost eaten by a titan, before I got this.” She pointed at her scar, her brows furrowing. “So don’t tell me that I don’t understand or that I cannot comprehend death or what being a soldier means. I am well aware. I have the scar as a souvenir.” Her eyes darkened, leaning back and crossing her arms over her chest.

Tikki stared at her in shock, holding the same look she always had when looking at Marinette recently. The look of not knowing who Marinette was anymore. Tikki turned to Mrs Césaire, “Marlena!” She cried, “say something! I can’t be the only one who doesn’t want this to happen!”

Mrs Césaire sighed and dropped the hand that was covering her mouth. “Alya, have you thought this through?”

“Yes mom,” Alya replied, straightening her back with confidence.

“You aren’t doing this to follow Marinette?”

“No ma’am.” Alya insisted, shaking her head, “I want to bring honour and pride to our family. I want to help with the war on the titans and get our world back.”

Mrs Césaire nodded, thinking for a minute before she stood up, wiping her eyes and walking over to Alya, pulling her to standing and engulfed her in a huge hug. She hugged her back, burying her face in her mothers chest. “We are already so proud of you, and you have already brought us honour by joining. I know you will be amazing.”

“What!?” Tikki was shocked, Marinette looked back at her with a raised brow, Tikki looked bewildered. “You are allowing this? They’re children!”

Mrs Césaire let go of Alya and frowned at Tikki, “they have experienced more than most adults. Especially Marinette.” She replied calmly, “if they want to join the military to make a difference we should be proud of them and their sacrifice! The men and women who are fighting this war against the titans are giving up their lives for us!”

“Exactly, giving up their lives!” Tikki yelled back, “I don’t want my sister dying at the ripe old age of 17 when she graduates!”

“I won’t die, and if I do it would be for the greater good!” Marinette stood up and yelled back.

“No it wont! You will die with your guts hanging out, piss down your leg and you will be crying out for a loved one begging not to die! I forbid this!” Tikki walked over and grabbed Marinette’s shoulders. “You are too weak!” Marinette gasped and stared at her sister in shock. “You will die!”

“Marinette isn’t weak!” Alya yelled, she looked ready to attack. “She is the strongest person I know!”

“The last time you saw a titan you almost died! You are too small, you won’t make it!” Tikki shook her shoulders angrily. Marinette frowned and pushed her sister off her, glaring at her.

“You can’t tell me what to do! You aren’t my mother and you aren’t my guardian.” She growled, “I can do whatever I like, and if anything Mrs Césaire is in charge of me.” Tikki looked surprised. “And I am not weak. If you don’t like it that’s not my problem. You can either support me or you can stay out of my business.”

Tikki glared at her sister before she grabbed her head scarf off the table and stormed out, slamming the door behind her. Marinette sighed and sat down, dropping her head on the table with a grunt.

You are too weak… you will die…

Her sister’s words echoed in her head, she was expecting the words to hurt her but they didn’t, they made her more determined. She was going to make it, she just needed to prove everyone wrong.

“Ignore her, Marinette. She doesn’t know who you are, who you really are. You will prove her wrong.” Alya reassured her, resting a hand on Marinette’s back.

Marinette sighed and stood up, pushing the chair back and walked through to their bedroom, walking to the window and looked out. She saw the garrison soldiers on the wall, they were running drills today, she watched them swinging across the wall and felt a pang in her chest. She wanted to be up there, she needed to be up there.

She sighed and turned away, leaning against the wall and slid down to the floor, dropping her head against the wall. Her mind went to Adrien again, looking over at the green shirt draped on the bed. It was a year and a half since the fall of the walls, and his face was almost all but blurred. She remembers how he held her like she was the only thing that mattered. She remembered his voice, and all she could see were those green eyes. She felt her scar with her fingers, drawing her knees to her chest, staring at the crinkles in her skirt.

Where was he? Was he safe? Did he get badly injured? She had so many questions that were most likely never going to be answered. And that sucked. He was the reason she was joining the military, she was spared and he saved her life, a stranger’s life. She had a debt to pay, and she wanted to be good. Not just a good person but a good soldier. But that wasn’t the important thing now. In a few weeks she will be a recruit and will start her training. She needed to focus on that and get through. Her eyes travelled to the shirt again, sadness taking over and the tears came. She had been through so much, yet these moments came very rarely, and when they did she embraced them with open arms. Just happy to feel something.

---

“Tikki I will be fine.” Marinette stared at the uniform in front of her. The cadet badge standing out against the tanned jacket. Her last conversation with her sister the night before echoing in her head. “Just… don’t die, okay?” Tikki had helped her cut her hair and gave Marinette her red ribbons much to her surprise. Now they were tied in her short, low pigtails, the ribbons floating down her back. Something of her sister to keep her safe.

She gulped and started to strip, pulling her new uniform on proudly. She wore her dark green top underneath her jacket, her dark brown sash around her waist fit perfectly and then her white trousers. Everything was custom made for her she figured, because it fit perfectly. She sat down and pulled on her knee-high boots, determination filling her.

Soon they were on the courtyard, in their formation at attention. Marinette looked around, she hadn’t met anyone yet, Alya standing next to her. She finally made it, she was finally here. She clenched her fists and looking to the side at her friend, smiling small at her before her face went hard. She was going to prove everyone wrong; she was going to join the survey regiment and she was going to make a difference. She looked forward, the horrors she saw flashing in front of her eyes, taking a deep breath and relaxed her fists. She had made it, now she had to actually do it.

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furtheradvofsanta · 4 years ago

Text

Santa Letter 2020

Every year, Santa Claus writes a letter to my nephew, and somehow every year I manage to find a copy. If you’ve been wondering what Santa and crew have been up to in quarantine, well, here you go. Bonus: Jack Frost and Frosty the Snowman go hunting for a yeti.

Santa’s Workshop

Beyond the Riphean Mountains

Beyond the North Wind

True North Pole

December 21, 2020

My dearest [name],

What a strange year this has been. I hope you and your family are doing well, or as well as possible at least. I don’t know how much you remember your five Christmases before this one, but they weren’t much like this sixth one, and I hope the seventh and beyond won’t be much like this one either! At least this year I am definitely writing to you from home and not the Moon, where the mail takes so long to travel from (and where I guess they print in blue ink!), but I’ve been at home so long now, I honestly wouldn’t mind a quick little hop to the Moon, or anywhere, if I were allowed.

But before I tell you about what things have been like here at the North Pole as we have all been stuck at home, let me tell you about what happened at the beginning of the year, which I think will amuse you. You see, our good friend Jack Frost came to visit us after we had finished our rounds for Christmas. Along with him came his brother, whose name I have not mentioned before, because his name is in Russian, and is something of a big name for little eyes: МОРОЗКО. Some of those letters may not even look like letters to you, but I promise you, in Russian, they are. It means something like “Little Frost,” and he got the name from his grandfather, Grandfather Frost, so I suppose I will call him “Frostie,” which some have been known to call him.

When Jack and Frostie arrived at the workshop after the Christmas rush, it was obvious that Frostie was upset. Angry, even. This is fairly unusual for him, as he is usually the cooler head that prevails over Jack’s flights of fancy. Another thing you need to know about Frostie is that, well, he doesn’t have a body. Because of an accident that happened many years ago, he’s more like a ghost who lives in a hat. But whenever that hat is placed on something--a mannequin or doll, for instance--that thing comes alive with Frostie’s spirit. Because of his family’s power over the winter frost, the most common thing he uses for a body is a snowman. In fact, he’s pretty famous for his adventures that way.

One of his best-known adventures happened many years ago in the small town of Armonk, New York, where he played with the children there and raised Christmas spirits considerably. You might have heard about it. The people of that town celebrate this adventure every year with a parade in which Frostie is the guest of honor. Despite generally being a pretty modest young man, Frostie does love this parade and he attends every year. In most ways, 2019 was no different. But then something chanced to catch his eye.

As the parade was processing down Main Street toward the village square, Frostie happened to look over at a local storefront that was decorated for Christmas. What he saw was a snowy mountain scene populated by dolls fashioned to look like strange figures: mostly human-shaped but very large, with long white hair covering most of their bodies and only bits of blue skin peeking out at their faces, hands, and very large feet. You might have heard of the creatures depicted in this scene. In the snowy Himalayas, they call them the Migoi or the Mirka, but most people there and elsewhere call them the yeti. In English, the yeti is often called the Abominable Snowman, and an old friend of mine used to call them bumbles because he couldn’t say “abominable” very well.

America has its own fair share of large, hairy, human-like ape creatures that stalk through their woods. The most famous of these of course is the sasquatch, also known as Bigfoot, who lives in the Northwest states like Washington and Oregon, down into Northern California, but there’s also the Fouke Monster in Arkansas, the Skunk Ape in Florida, the Hillbilly Beast in Kentucky, and several others. The yeti is related to this, but lives way over in Asia, high in the Himalayas, the highest mountains in the world.

The yeti looks like a large ape that walks on two legs, almost eight feet tall, with long arms, a powerfully strong body, and a head with a flat nose, all covered in long red or black hair. While they often appear white, this is usually because their naturally dark fur is covered with snow and ice. They are clever hunters and can turn their feet around backwards so that their footprints look like they’re going the opposite direction, just to fool anyone trying to follow them. Their main hunting weapon is a magic rock that they carry under their left arm which always hits and stuns its target--which is usually a yak or a goat, unless a person is really unlucky. They normally live alone, but they talk to each other by making a whistling sound. Plus they smell really bad.

After the parade was over, Frostie decided to see if he could find any more Christmas yetis, so he let his hat take to the wind, and he flew all over the place. The more Frostie looked around, the more decorations he saw of these Abominable Snowmen. He saw ornaments, stuffed animals, dolls, tree toppers, and inflatables in people’s front yards. They were everywhere. And Frostie didn’t like it.

Do you know what the word “abominable” means? It’s not a very nice word. It means something so bad, so mean, so disgusting, that everyone who sees it immediately hates it. Frostie, who was often a snowman himself, didn’t want that to be the word everyone thought of when they thought of snowmen at Christmas. As he himself is a jolly, happy soul (usually), those are the kinds of words he would want to be used to describe snowmen.

(His brother Jack, of course, suggested that the real reason that Frostie was so upset is that he had become used to being the most famous snowman of all, and he didn’t like his spotlight being stolen. This, I think, was Jack teasing his brother, but who knows? There could be some truth to it.)

And so it was that when Jack and Frostie came to visit us after Christmas, Frostie let us know of his plan: he was going to go to the Himalayas, catch a yeti, and tell them to go back up into their mountain caves and leave Christmas to less abominable people! He wasn’t going to go alone, of course. Jack considers himself a big-time adventurer and thought catching one of the scariest monsters in the world would be a real feather in his cap. (Though knowing Jack as I do, I knew he would tell stories of bravely catching an abominable snowman even if he never saw one.) What’s more, the two brothers would be joined by their cousin, the Snow Maiden, whose duties for Grandfather Frost (the grandfather of Jack, Frostie, and the Snow Maiden who lives in a snowy estate in the forests of Russia) she had completed after the New Year, which is when Russian children get presents.

Frostie thought it would be a good family outing for the three cousins to travel together, since the two brothers are normally roaming the world and the Snow Maiden spends most of her time with Grandfather Frost. I think the Snow Maiden was more interested in the travels with her family than any chance of seeing (or smelling) a yeti. And, as I said, Jack was more interested in being able to boast about hunting a great monster than in saving the good name of snowmen everywhere.

But Frostie was still glad to have them along. Each one of them has a good amount of snow and ice magic on their own, but together the three of them should have been unstoppable, even in the face of giant hairy ape-men. As they were preparing for their trip, Jack even started singing a song that he made up (or so he says) about their expedition. I don’t remember all the words, but I do remember him singing this part over and over at the top of his lungs, until the words echoed through the reindeer stalls and frightened all the calves:

“Well, it’s cheer up, my lads!

Keep your hearts ever steady!

For the bonny brave Frost cousins

Go a-hunting for the yeti!”

And before we knew it, they were off. As quick as a wink, Jack and the Snow Maiden had whisked themselves up into invisible snowy winds and carried Frostie’s hat off with them. Fortunately, the same Christmas magic that lets me know when children are in danger or when they’re up to coal-worthy antics would warn me if anything went wrong for them on their trip that required a quick reindeer rescue. Frostie had told me not to worry, as he had once saved a city in Maryland from monsters that were a lot like yetis except much, much bigger. In that case, a local doctor had simply built a very, very large snowman body for Frostie to inhabit, which made scaring off the frost giants much easier. He said that if things got too scary, Jack could easily make him a similar body. I guess it was better than no plan at all, but I hoped they wouldn’t have to count on a giant snowman saving them.

As it turns out, they didn’t have to build a giant snowman. But that’s not to say there wasn’t any danger. In fact, only a few days after the Frost cousins had left for the mountains of Tibet, I had a dream in which I could see what they were up to. After failing to find a snowbeast for some time, the three cousins decided to find a place to rest. What they found was an old abandoned mill where the local people used to grind barley into flour. Since it was obvious no one had been there in a long time, the three built a fire and settled in to sleep.

In the darkest, quietest time of the night, they were all suddenly woken up by the sound of the mill door slamming shut! When they opened their eyes, they saw the giant, shaggy form of an angry yeti standing over them! “This is my hideout!” he growled in an angry voice. “What are you doing here? I’m going to eat you up!”

The three cousins were scared and didn’t know what to do. They had great power among them, but this yeti had caught them off-guard. There was no snow inside the mill for Frostie to use as a body, so the plan that had worked on the frost giants in Maryland wouldn’t work here. Jack decided to turn to his most powerful weapon: tall tales.

“It’s good that you’re here, Mister Yeti,” said Jack. “We’ve been looking all over for you. My brother and sister and I are all powerful frost giants from the land of Giants’ Home and we have taken on these puny human forms to come and see how this world’s snow and ice monsters are doing.” He stood up and walked around the yeti as if he were checking out a suit of clothes that he was considering buying. “You seem to be doing a very good job, very frightening. The stink is good, it reminds me of home. Your sweaty armpit rock is very intimidating as well. I’ll let the king of the giants know that he doesn’t have to worry about the ape-men of the Himalayas.”

Unfortunately, the yeti wasn’t buying Jack’s story any more than you might. He grabbed Jack by the back of his collar and lifted him up off the ground to look him straight in the eye. Jack did his best not to grimace when the sour milk smell of the yeti’s steamy breath puffed into his nostrils. “Show me,” said the yeti. “Show me that you are a giant. If you are so strong, you could crush me.” Jack couldn’t answer. “Why do you look so scared?”

So Frostie’s plan to make a big snowman hadn’t worked, and the yeti wasn’t convinced by Jack’s fibs. Fortunately there was still a third Frost cousin. The Snow Maiden cried out, just as the yeti was about to bop Jack one right on the head, “Wait! Mister Yeti, I know we have come into your hiding place and now you are going to eat us up. That is only fair. But I have one request. Where we come from, it is a custom before dying to cover our legs with oil before dying. That way we can run swiftly to Heaven. Will you allow us to do this?”

The yeti thought it over and decided he didn’t really care if his dinner tasted like oil or not, especially since he planned to gobble them up so fast that he wouldn’t even be able to taste anything. And so he agreed to let the cousins brush their legs with oil before he ate them up. But what he didn’t know was that the brush the Snow Maiden held up wasn’t a brush for rubbing oil on things: it was Jack’s magic paintbrush that he uses to paint frost crystals on windows and sparkling white icicles on tree branches.

The Snow Maiden ran the brush up and down her leg and said, “This is so wonderful. My legs feel like I could run anywhere, as fast as the wind. I could catch up to a yak without trying. I could leap from mountaintop to mountaintop.”

The yeti, who would have liked to be able to catch a yak without trying, grabbed the brush from the Snow Maiden’s hands. “Let me try that!” he growled. Soon he was rubbing the brush up and down his hideous hairy legs, just as he had seen the Snow Maiden do, all the way down to his furry, backwards feet. With each swipe of the brush, however, the yeti’s legs became more and more covered in ice thanks to the magic of the paintbrush. Before he even noticed what was happening, his legs were so frozen that he couldn’t move. Jack couldn’t believe the Snow Maiden, normally so polite, had pulled off a better trick than even he could think of, and with his own brush no less.

With the yeti frozen to the ground, the Frost cousins took their chance to escape. Jack, with one last flick of his brush, froze the yeti’s mouth closed so that he wouldn’t be able to whistle a warning to the others out there hiding among the mountain caves. The three Frosts disappeared into a flurry of snow, and that was the end of my dream. I did not dream about them again for a long time, so I figured that meant they were safe.

Meanwhile, it turns out that it was everywhere else that wasn’t safe! Suddenly, everywhere all over the world people were getting sick, and the only way to stay healthy was to stay inside or wear a mask if you had to go out. That was true everywhere, even here at the North Pole. You may have heard on TV that I can’t catch this sickness, which is true--I wouldn’t be able to deliver presents this year otherwise--but that’s not true for everyone who lives up here at the North Pole. And so we had to make sure everyone was safe.

My main apprentice, Pete, was very helpful in making sure that his brothers all washed their hands several times a day while singing the song “Saint Nicholas, Little Rascal” (a very popular song in the Netherlands) twice to make sure they were all the way clean. The animals couldn’t get sick, so Rupert didn’t have much to do besides his normal job, though he did make sure the werewolf in our stables always kept a mask over his snout. The elves in the workshop made special breathing devices that filtered out any sickness from the air. I told them they didn’t have to work and that I would make all the toys this year, but they said that toymakers are essential workers, and I couldn’t disagree. We can’t disappoint the children. This year has been bad enough.

The Krampus assured me that the beasts huddled up in our outbuilding of furry friends were enough like animals that they wouldn’t get sick any more than the reindeer would. That was good, because I couldn’t imagine trying to convince that big pile of monsters that they should stay six feet away from each other.

Once we had made sure that everyone at the workshop was being careful and staying home, it was up to Mrs. Claus to make sure that everyone out in the village in the forest was being safe. Mrs. Claus and her two closest helpers, Holly and Ivy, who are both tree spirits like Mrs. Claus, went out into the thick forest of fir trees that surround the North Pole workshop. First they told all the other tree spirits that it would be best to just stay in their trees this year unless absolutely necessary.

Then they turned to the Mushroom People who make their homes underneath the fir trees, with their little red caps with white spots. They had come to live in our forest after being driven out of their homes by the Penny Bun Mushrooms in the War of the Mushrooms. They found it most comfortable to live under the shade of silver fir trees, and since we have more of those than anywhere else in the world, they live with us. When Mrs. Claus told them about how everyone was getting sick, they said they weren’t worried because their people were blessed with good luck, but that they would still stay inside anyway to help everyone else.

Then Mrs. Claus, Holly, and Ivy checked with the Moss People, the Mossmen and Mosswomen, who live with us to hide away from the wild hunters who try to catch them every year. The Moss People were all fine, tucked away inside their hollow log homes. Next, Mrs. Claus and her helpers checked with the timid Pinecone People, who can normally be found climbing over the rooftops during the Twelve Days of Christmas, and made them promise to stay home and not climb on any rooftops at all.

Holly and Ivy then ranged out deeper into the fir forest in an attempt to find Belsnickel, the woodsman of the North Pole, who keeps to himself at the best of times. They looked and looked and couldn’t find him, so we feel pretty confident that he’s keeping away from other people, which is pretty normal for him anyway. Don’t worry about him being lonely, though, as I’m sure he has no shortage of snowshoe hares, Arctic foxes, puffins, and snow buntings to keep him company.

I myself went to talk to the Valkyries, the warrior women who watch over the northern sky and whose armor twinkles in the distant light of the sun, creating what most people call the Northern Lights. I talked to their leader, whose name is Mist, as she hovered in the night sky above the Earth. Normally, the job of Valkyries is to select the bravest warriors from any battle who might be worthy to join the Hall of Heroes who spend their days training to fight a giant wolf who they know will one day try to eat the world. (Don’t worry, that wolf is chained up with the strongest chains ever built. They were made by the relatives of our workshop elves, so I know they’re of good quality and should last a long time.) Mist told me that because so many people were staying home this year, there were no battles for them to watch over. That meant they could stay home in the skies above the North Pole.

I went next to talk to the Great North Polar Bear, Callisto, and her son, Arcas. As they are bears, I knew they wouldn’t need to worry about a human sickness. I still wanted to check on them and make sure they were okay, because I didn’t want them to be lonely. I also asked them if they would do me the favor of keeping an eye on the entrance to the Star Land. You remember that Callisto and Arcas live up among the stars above the Pole to be a sign to the people so they can always find which way is north. Because they live in the stars, they are neighbors to the Star People of Star Land. I was not particularly worried that the Star Man or the Little Star would wander out of the Star Land and into the human world and get sick, but I knew that some of the little ones, the Star Boys and little angels who romp and play all over that starry land, might not be old enough to understand that they can’t play with or sing for little human girls and boys this year. Callisto promised that she would look out for any stray cherubs dancing down the light beams towards the Earth. I thanked her by promising her we would save her and Arcas an extra big portion of their favorite soda when they visited next.

Meanwhile, Mrs. Claus took one of the horses from the stables and rode out to the Riphean Mountains, which surround the North Pole and help keep unwanted visitors out. She rode to the court of King Lunicursor, the king of the griffins who live in the mountains, protecting their hoards of gold. Griffins, of course, are half eagle and half lion, so they can’t catch a human virus. We weren’t worried about the griffins, but rather about the one-eyed giants who also live in the Riphean Mountains and who are always trying to steal the griffins’ gold. Despite only having one eye and being larger and meaner than a normal human, we were worried that the Arimaspians, as they are called, would not care very much about their health or anyone else’s, and they might run down into human villages and spread sickness everywhere. They are definitely rude enough that they would never wear a mask or stay six feet away from someone, or even wash their hands or cover their mouths when they cough. Very rude.

Lunicursor, you will remember, is quite friendly with Mrs. Claus after the two of them flew to the Moon last year to stop the Mouse King with the legendary sword Crackatook. He was, of course, very happy to see Mrs. Claus, and he agreed to keep a close eye on the Arimaspians this year and try to keep them too busy to make war with their neighbors south of the mountains. Mrs. Claus and Lunicursor also agreed that the griffins’ job of flying across the world and finding homes for unwanted toys was more important than ever this year. This year has been lonely enough for some children. We want to make sure they get all the toys they can.

Beyond the peaks where the griffins guard their gold and the valleys were the Arimaspians pasture their horses lie the banks of the Eridanus River, the only river that leads up through the Riphean Mountains. Along its banks grow long rows of poplar trees that never stop weeping golden, sticky amber. The trees cry because they used to be human, the sisters of a young man who foolishly thought he could control the sun as if he were driving a sleigh. He was wrong, and he steered it too close to the Earth and burned a big part of it up, creating what we know now as the Sahara Desert. In the end, he lost control altogether, and his sisters were so sad after he fell from the sun and back to Earth that they turned into trees that have been crying ever since.

Swimming in the waters of the Eridanus are huge flocks of swans. Most of them used to be human; in fact, they were the people who lived at the North Pole before we did, when it was still spring all the time, before the cold came. When the people of the North Pole became old, they would dive into the waters of the Eridanus, and its magic turned them into swans. Also among them are many Swan Maidens, who can change between human form and swan form, but who are not originally from the North Pole. They are watched over by their brother, the Swan Knight, who rides a boat pulled by his sisters in their swan forms. I’ll have to tell you more about them another time.

Anyway, Mrs. Claus rode down from the mountains, sneaking through the valleys of the Arimaspians, and to the banks of the river. There she talked to the Swan Maidens and the Swan Knight and made them promise to stay along the banks of the river, or if they had to visit the human world, that they would stay in their swan forms. The Swan Maidens all promised to obey Mrs. Claus, and I hope they were being honest. Many of the Swan Maidens used to be princesses and are not used to doing what other people say, even when it’s for their own good.

Beyond the banks of the Eridanus lies a snowy land that has been cursed to eternal winter where only horrible creatures like the Awgwas live, so there isn’t much good we could do there. The Awgwas are even ruder than the Arimaspians, and besides, they can turn invisible, so it’s not likely we’d find them if we wanted to. Once you get beyond that, you’ll find the Islands of Amber and the Island of Tin and Furthest Thule and other places that are well outside the influence of the North Pole. Hopefully those people will make good decisions for themselves.

And so you can see, from the Pole to the Workshop to the stables to the Krampus shelters to the village to the fir forest to the Northern Lights to the Star Land to the Riphean Mountains to the Riphean valleys to the banks of the Eridanus, we have done our best to keep everyone safe and inside this year. It has been a hard and lonely year, but we have done our best. We tried to focus on our work and making toys and getting ready for Christmas, but sometimes it can be hard to pay attention to work, and that’s okay too.

The good news is this: after many months of staying home and making sure all the creatures of the North Pole were doing the same, I finally had another dream about the Frost cousins. The three of them were standing on an icy peak near Mount Everest, the tallest mountain in the world, hoping from that high point they could spy a yeti. Of course, the wind and snow made it very hard to see anything, let alone a sneaky beast whose fur was crusted white with frost against blankets of snow. And while their attention was focused on what was down the mountain, they weren’t thinking about what was coming behind them!

Yes, it was a yeti! This one was even taller than the one who had tried to gobble them up at the mill. Fortunately they heard his large, backwards feet cracking through the snow behind them. When they whipped their heads around to see what had made the noise, they saw a yeti very different from the one they had encountered before. This one was not crusted over with snow, but rather his long, black fur appeared to be neatly combed. The look on his face was peaceful and welcoming, rather than snarling and hungry. And perhaps most strangely of all, he was wearing clothes! Even though they were ragged from age and use, the Frost cousins could tell that the yeti was wearing monk’s robes. With his magic rock tucked under his left arm, this unusual creature was dragging a large portion of meat behind him with his right arm.

Rather than threatening to eat the Frost cousins up, he asked if they would like to get out of the cold and join him for a meal. The way he asked was so polite, even sassy Jack didn’t bother pointing out that the Frost cousins never got cold. Instead, the polite Snow Maiden agreed that they would follow him. Frostie was nervous about following a yeti to his home, but he knew this was perhaps his best shot at telling an abominable snowman to leave Christmas to the jolly, happy snowmen.

This yeti, it turned out, lived in a small house near the peak of Everest. For many years he had lived there with a monk--a human monk--who was his friend, and who had taught the yeti how to be a monk himself. It turns out that many, many years ago, the monk had been keeping watch over the world one night, silently praying for good things for the people and animals of the world below him. In the winter moonlight, a yeti--this yeti, the one telling the story--tried to sneak up on him to gobble him up, as the yeti at the mill had tried to do to the Frost cousins.

Instead, the monk turned around and showed the yeti his peaceful, smiling face. The monk’s attitude was so loving and calm that the yeti forgot that he had meant to make a meal of him. With gentle words and loving gestures, the monk invited the yeti into his humble home, the very cabin where the yeti and the three cousins now sat. The yeti was a welcome guest here at the home of the monk. He had never felt so happy and accepted in his life, and soon he wondered why he had ever tried to hurt anyone.

The monk treated the yeti as if he were his brother--because, the monk said, all those who walk the Earth are his siblings--and as if he had lived in his home for years. The monk’s words were like seeds that he planted in the yeti’s heart, and those kind and gentle words blossomed into peace and love within the yeti. Soon the yeti would help the monk by getting food and firewood for the two of them, and the monk taught him his way of life. Although the monk had grown old and died many years ago, the yeti lived on, continuing to live in the style of peace and kindness the monk had taught him.

And that is how the Frost cousins had found him. The four joined together in happiness and warmth inside the monk’s cabin, enjoying the warm fire and the meal the yeti prepared for them. It was very good, in my opinion, that the cousins found someone so kind and helpful, because soon after they arrived in the yeti’s small house, the order went out that everyone needed to stay home or else get sick. That was, of course, back in the spring.

So Jack, Frostie, and the Snow Maiden have been living with the yeti monk for most of a year, eating yak for dinner and learning the ways of peace and kindness. My dream didn’t show me everything that has been going on with them for nine months, but I do know that now that he’s met this yeti, Frostie has changed his tune about yetis. He thinks that calling them abominable is very rude, and that while some of them are mean and cruel, others of them are more like adorable snowmen. And so he’s decided that it’s okay if some people decorate for Christmas while using yetis as long as they don’t forget to use regular snowmen, too. I think he’ll probably get his wish.

The extra good news is that a doctor just called me this week to tell me that they were making a medicine to help people fight the sickness that caused so much trouble this year. While they are still working on making enough for everyone to have some, they know how important Christmas is to so many people, so they wanted to make sure we got some at the North Pole so that we can make our rounds. As soon as it gets here, I’m going to fly the sleigh down to the Himalayas to find Jack, Frostie, and the Snow Maiden and take them back to Grandfather Frost in Russia so they can get ready to help him deliver gifts on New Year’s!

I will have to take my fastest reindeer, because we at the North Pole of course have our own work to do, and Christmas is coming soon! I will definitely be coming to see you, because I know you have been good this year, staying at home and wearing a mask when you go out! I wish there were more people who would follow your example, but there are a lot of names on the naughty list this year, I’m afraid, all because they are so angry about masks! Anyway, there’s plenty of coal to go around for people like that.

Have a merry Christmas, and here’s to a better year in 2021! Give my love to your mommy and daddy and all of your family. I will be there to visit soon!

Your friend,

Santa Claus

#christmas #santa claus #santa claus letter #santa claus letters #frosty the snowm #jack frost #snegurochka #yeti #prose

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miss-eucatastrophe · 4 years ago

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Pairing: Levi x Erwin x Mike x Thick!Reader/PlusSize!Reader

Summary: When you purchased your first home you’d anticipated it being a turning point in your life. You just didn’t anticipate that turn to give you whiplash.

A new home throws you into a new lifestyle you would have never thought you’d find yourself in-- with three men you’d never expected to be with.

Rated: Explicit [18+]

Main Tags: Polyamory/Polyamorous relationship, BDSM, Attack on Titain Modern AU, Slow Burn

A/N: Hey all, Just some things about the reader in this fic before you get invested:

I keep the reader ambiguous in appearance and use [y/n]. Use of [y/n] becomes minimal in favor of pet names as the story progresses.

One thing that is not ambiguous is that the reader is thick, you could also say plus sized though because that’s different in every country I favor the word thick. I also think its kind of a sexier adjective.

Reader has self consciousness issues and anxiety, both are being treated/have been treated through therapy. I keep it ambiguous as to whether or not the reader is still in therapy-- regardless the reader is insinuated to be far along and doing well in her treatment. Shout out to my peeps who are/have been in therapy, your mental health is important and you’re doing great no matter where you are in it.

Reader is in her mid to late 20′s because realistically purchasing a home before that is near impossible. Hell even in our 20′s its hard. I also wanted to give a little love to my thick girls in their later 20′s because we out here.

A lot of AOT reader inserts, if not completely ambiguous, often emphasize a super fit form. Which makes sense in the typical setting when the reader is in the AOT world and maybe a soldier-- but I wanted to give some love to our fuller body types. Maybe I just got tired of reading “...reader’s flat/muscular stomach...” and going-- ooh can’t relate! Haaa.

That being said, you can read this no matter what your body type because everyone’s perception of self is different-- I just wanted to give the heads up because the reader does struggle a bit with her sense of self in the story because of her body type as her self confidence continues to develop.

BDSM dynamics ultimately take place in this fic. Some are good BDSM practices/etiquette, some are not good. Professionals know the difference and this is not your guide to polyamory or BDSM. The poor etiquette will be rather obvious but if you’re interested in pursuing BDSM in your real life, please don’t use this work of fiction as gospel. Do your research and practice safely!

My fictional stories are for ADULTS. Do not read them if you are under the age of 18.

With all that out of the way, Please enjoy~

Chapter 1:

“I got this,” A panted breath.

“I got this,” A strained grunt.

“Nope I lied.” A loud thunk of a heavy box hitting green grass.

“Told ‘ya so.” The brunette breathlessly quipped from her position beside another box, her arms haphazardly flung over its surface. “Can we please take a break now?”

Admitting defeat, you fell in a heap on the lawn and nodded your head, but not before running your forearm across your sweaty brow. “Okay, yeah,” your reply was just as breathless although your friend had given up long before you. “Like five minutes.”

The other female placed her chin on the box, framing her head between her outstretched arms. “Okay, yeah, like fifteen minutes.” She echoed in a tired din, attempting to get you to thoughtlessly agree to her editing of the time.

Though tired with your legs and arms throbbing under the surface of your skin, you shook your head. “No Sasha,” you said firmly. Though it sounded like you were trying to convince yourself over her. “If we take longer than five minutes, we’re gonna quit and we’re almost done!” You gestured with an open palm to the admittedly small moving van parked in the street in front of you. You’d made good headway with it. It was amazing how much stuff you could fit in such a small van.

It was amazing how little space said stuff could take up in such a big home.

Well, big might be a little generous. It was by no means a mansion, certainly not as big as some of the other models on the same street, but it was bigger than your previous living conditions.

More importantly it was yours.

Yours.

You smiled, looking up at the bright sky above you, dotted with a few fluffy clouds.

Your first home.

Your heart sped up when you reminded yourself. You had doubts that it would ever happen. Saving enough money to put a down payment on a home without loans or handouts was no easy feat. But you did it, and that hard work had paid off in achieving your goal. Your down payment was enough to make the house payments bearable; though for the first few months you could see that a majority of your income would go back into the home either in the form of said payments, filling the home with furniture, or renovating some of the areas that needed love.

Like the front yard.

The front yard needed some love.

Not the lawn. The lawn was good. The lawn was providing you and Sasha with a much-needed reprieve. Yes, the lawn could stay.

You loved lawn.

Lawn loved you.

Until your arms started to itch. A less than intimidating growl left your lips as you quickly sat up, your nails digging into your skin as you scratched at it for some relief before flailing your arms about to try and save them from the irritation—as if you could shake it off your flesh.

“Back to work.” You chirped, making Sasha groan.

“Remind me what I’m getting out of this again?” She mumbled, her face planting itself back to the box to muffle her protests.

Kicking yourself up to standing, you looked over your shoulder with a playful smile, “I’m feeding you.” You reminded her.

After a long pause, perhaps letting your words sink in, Sasha released a huff, lifting her face and flexing her small arms in her baggy t-shirt. “Second wind!” she shrieked by way of a battle cry, her hands clenching the cube between her legs in a vice grip as she moved to a squat, yanking the box off of the pristine lawn.

Who would take such good care of a lawn but ignore the rest of the yard? The previous owner apparently. Then again, it made a bit of sense. It was easy to turn on a sprinkler system to keep a lawn looking fresh whereas the things you wanted to add would take work. Like flowers. You loved flowers. Though you’d struggle on and off with a potentially green thumb, unlike your mother who could make anything grow. Planting flowers was a must. You would work your way to the backyard. But the front yard was like a first impression and you wanted it to be pretty for when friends came over as well as for the strangers that passed by. You wanted people to say, “Oh what a cute house. Whoever bought it really spruced up the place. It looks much better. Oh, it so does, blah blah blah.” Should you care what other people said? No. But you were human. Besides, your mother always kept an immaculate home, you wanted to emulate her in the maintenance of your own home.

As always you were getting too ahead of yourself. You were thinking twelve steps beyond where you were. That could be dangerous. Such thoughts could stimulate anxiety. Something you were unfortunately prone to. You took a deep breath, stealing your resolve to focus on the present moment.

You lifted your gaze, letting it drag over the neighborhood. “Find every color.” You murmured to yourself.

Red, the roses on the bush two houses down.

Orange, the moving van.

Yellow, your shirt.

Green, the lawn.

Blue, the sky.

Purple, your struggled to find purple and made a note to plant some purple pansies to rectify that.

Pink, the flowers of the magnolia tree next door.

You took a deep breath. This was your favorite grounding exercise you’d learned from therapy. It forced you to stay in the moment, steel yourself, and stop racing thoughts—often times before they happened since now you were much better at recognizing the warning signs. It took a lot of work to get to this point. It was work you were proud of.

You took another breath.

First the van. Empty the van. One thing at a time.

A huffing and puffing Sasha stumbled down the shallow steps of the front door—your front door you though joyously—with her hands on her hips, bent slightly at the waist to pin you with judgement. “Excuse me? Am I do’n all the work around here?”

You smirked, nudging the box in front of you with the toe of your shoe, the memory of your struggle to lift it still fresh in your mind. You weren’t in a hurry for a repeat performance in spite of your hassling of Sasha. “Depends, how big of a meal you want?” You teased her.

The brunette scoffed. “If you want me to go at it alone then you better be treating me to a buffet.”

You giggled, though a twinge of envy settled in your chest. Sasha was a petite thing considering how much she ate. You were not. The fact that she could eat so much and still keep her shape while you struggled around your weight made you jealous. The thought of going to a buffet filled you with dread. You always wondered what people thought when they saw someone of thicker size stepping into one of those. It triggered the self-consciousness you were working on diminishing. It wasn’t as though you were lazy, ugly, or any other stereotypical term that so wrongly coincided with your set. Hell, you’d moved over half your old residence by yourself. You were strong! Your body could do amazing things. You just didn’t match the image plastered all over social media and society of what a woman “should” look like.

Size 0 mannequins could go fuck themselves.

You had hips, you had a butt, you had ample breasts—all things sexualized excessively in the female form—you just also had a little extra. Thick thighs, a bit of a tummy—society wanted you to have tits and an ass but when you had the addition that often went with those things naturally, you were frowned upon. It was a complete catch 22. However, society wasn’t going to change, not overnight. So instead you worked on yourself—or rather your perception of self. Therapy helped, but it was an everyday battle to combat two parts of your brain. The half that liked and appreciated the many elements of you, including your body—and the half that was an asshole.

Right now, the asshole was winning. Because of this you had no interest in taking Sasha to a buffet—which meant you had to actually pick up the box you were glaring at.

Bending over, you hoisted the box into your arms with refreshed energy and groaned as you started to your home. “Remind me again why we didn’t recruit the guys?” You mumbled; your voice strained with effort. You probably had books in there. Yeah that was absolutely the book box. Should have spaced those damn things out. What kinda dumb ass were you to put almost all of them in one box?

“Oh, it’s not that much and they’re working, we can totally handle it.” Sasha said, her voice mimicking yours as best it could, though laced heavy with sarcasm. “That’s you. That’s how you sounded.”

You were kicking yourself, “Talk some sense into me next time.” You called, over your shoulder, dropping the box just inside the door where it was going to stay until you either, one, had the energy to move it, or two, had finished putting up your half book shelf.

It was probably going to live there for a while.

“Already thinking about ‘next time’? Oh, no, you’re not moving for at least 10 years. You can’t get me to do this again before that.” Sasha said sternly when you walked back outside to meet her by the van. “I’ll book you for 10 years from now.” You agreed, leaning against the side of the vehicle while Sasha took a moment to fix her ponytail which had gone messy with her unloading efforts.

Walking around to the back of the moving van, you leaned down to pick up another box, a smaller one than the last and took a moment to look over what was left. Just a few bigger items. They were bulky but between the two of you they wouldn’t be difficult to manage. Getting the bed frame and headboard up the stairs was going to be a pain in the ass, luckily TV’s were thinner now so that would be easy to get inside, the bedside tables were small and each of you could carry one of those, the dresser was going to be a bit of a bitch…

You bit your lip, looking over the items and making a list of difficulty in your head. Once again you were filling your mind with ‘to-do’s. Luckily, a voice pulled you out of your own thoughts as you backed down the van’s slope.

“Hello girls!”

You turned around to see an older woman toddling down the driveway beside your own, holding a tray with cookies and two glasses of what appeared to be lemonade.

Putting on your best ‘first impression’ face, you gave the woman a bright smile and placed the box down at your feet to greet the woman who was undoubtably one of your new neighbors. “Hello ma’am,” you said politely. Sasha was too busy drooling over the cookies in the woman’s hands.

“Please, please, call me Della.” She said, lifting the tray in her hands to present the offering to you and Sasha, who was quick to snatch the lemonade and two cookies, chewing both of them at the same time with happy hums and grumbles. You nudged her with your elbow silently scolding her for bypassing the introduction process. Della waved you off, having noticed the subtle action. “She’s absolutely fine! I’m thrilled to have someone enjoy my baking so much.”

All the same, you introduced yourself before taking your own cookie. “It’s nice to meet you Della. I’m [y/n] and this is Sasha.” You took the tray from her and placed it on one of the taller boxes so you could shake the woman’s hand. “Thank you so much for the lemonade and treats.” How on earth had the woman baked that fast? You’d only been there about two hours and these cookies were absolutely fresh out of the oven. Clearly you were living next door to a witch. A kitchen witch. You were totally okay with that so long as she directed her baking powers on you regularly.

“These are amazing.” You mumbled around a mouthful of warm cookie, the flavor sitting on your tongue for a moment, only to have your pallet cleansed by the lemonade.

Della gave a bright smile, “Well thank you dear. It’s nice to have another darling couple to bake for.”

Sasha spit out the lemonade she was sipping, her eyes popping out of her head as she coughed.

You swallowed your bite to try and keep from choking yourself. “Oh! Oh gosh no. No Sasha is just helping me move in. She’s my best friend.” You clarified calmly.

Sasha was thumping her fist to her chest in an attempt to clear her esophagus. “Connie would kill me.” She managed to choke out between wheezes.

“I think he would be down.” You murmured around another sip of lemonade, teasing her.

Della however covered her mouth, looking a little embarrassed by her assumption. “I’m sorry I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions. I guess I’m just so used to our other neighbors.” she trailed off, gesturing to the house on the other side of yours. You took that to mean that your other neighbors were a gay couple.

You shook your head, “Don’t worry about it!” Honestly, you were pleasantly surprised to have an older woman be so openly accepting and progressive. Having a neighbor like that wouldn’t be half bad. Especially if she made a habit of sharing her cooked concoctions.

It seemed you’d managed to move to a rather well-rounded neighborhood. It made a smile tug at your lips.

“Will you be living alone, dear?” Della asked, smoothing her hands over the apron tied around her waist. The action cause tiny plumes of flour to drift in front of her before her green eyes came up to regard you with her full attention. It must be her way to ask if you had a significant other that would be moving in alongside you. To some it may seem prying, but you didn’t blame her for wanting to know a little more about the person living right next door to her.

Nodding your head, you reached for another cookie. You probably wouldn’t have normally, sometimes you felt odd eating in front of others— it might have something to do with your negative self-image—but in this case it seemed rude to not show how much you enjoyed the treats after your neighbor slaved over them for you. So, you justified the second as you answered her question. “Yep, just me.”

Humming her understanding, Della nodded in response. “Well don’t you worry. This is a very safe neighborhood. I’ve never felt nervous living alone.” She assured you.

It was not something you’d even considered. You’d lived on your own before, in truth you just slept with a baseball bat under your bed or a heavy flashlight by your nightstand. You’d never had to use them of course, but better have it and not need it than to need it and not have it. You were confident in your ability to defend yourself. As confident as an untrained baseball bat wielder could be anyway. It’s not as though you knew martial arts.

“That’s reassuring.” You told Della with a smile who returned your kind expression. “If you ever need anything, do let me know,” she said softly, picking up the tray as you and Sasha placed your glasses on it—though she handed you the plate of cookies which was for your to consume at your leisure. “Us girls gotta stick together.” She winked, pulling a giggle from you before she gestured with her chin to your other neighbor’s home. “We’re outnumbered by boys after all.” She was just teasing but it clarified your suspicion of your other neighbors being a male couple.

“They’re very kind,” she added, “So I’m sure they’ll tell you the same. It’s a very lovely neighborhood.” She gave a little curtesy since she couldn’t wave. “I’ll let you girls get back to it!” She called as she walked back up to her driveway.

You smiled back, waving as she made her way to her home, “Thank you again! It was nice to meet you!” You raised the plate of cookies to Sasha’s view once the woman had retreated into her house after the brief welcome. “These are gonna be gone.” You whispered, walking past her to get them to the empty kitchen before you and Sasha could turn them to crumbs.

“Don’t you owe me a debt?” Sasha called after you, picking up the box the tray had once sat on top of.

You gave her a look over your shoulder. “I’m not giving you all my welcome cookies. I’m ordering pizza later.” For a moment you contemplated hiding the sweets. But that wouldn’t protect them from you. Just Sasha and her ravenous hunger.

It took a little under an hour to get the remainder of the van emptied, without any interruptions—no matter how pleasant. Assembling the bed was a bit of a pain, as suspected, but it was the only piece of furniture you were going to rope Sasha into helping you with. You’d bought a few new pieces of furniture that were still in boxes, which made them easier to pack, but you still had to assemble them. You were confident in your ability to do so on your own. You’d put together enough furniture in your time; and Sasha had done more than enough to earn her pizza.

Thus, the remainder of the evening consisted of eating said pizza, demolishing the plate of cookies, and yelling at reality stars through the television about their actions even though they couldn’t hear you nor Sasha. Thank god you had gotten the cable hooked up day one. You at least needed internet to watch Hulu and Netflix.

Your spunky brunette friend didn’t stay too late. Bless her, she took it upon herself to take the van back to the rental facility for you so you could continue to get settled. The most important piece of furniture was already complete, ready for you to pass out on it when you gave up on the boxes.

To your credit, you managed to unpack most things that didn’t involve the furniture still needing to be assembled. In fact, you unpacked and sorted all your kitchen ware very easily. The kitchen was a good place to start because it didn’t require the rearrangement of furniture which would inevitably come with unpacking areas like your bedroom. Empty cabinets, drawers, and countertops were a blank slate that only required methodical stuffing. Most people’s kitchens were relatively similar in where cutlery went, mixing bowls, cups, pots, and pans—there was only so much variability. It wouldn’t require the careful placement needed to make a space cozy and inviting. It just had to be functional and neat.

Another aspect that made the kitchen simple was your lack of items. Again, this home was much larger than your previous residence. It had much more space for things. Things you didn’t have but would come with time. You were rather excited to shop around for new things to fill your kitchen as well as the rest of your house.

You’d also managed to unpack some knick-knacks and items that would be set on already constructed furniture, like photographs of your family and friends. One of your favorite pictures included you, Sasha, and Connie in Disneyland. Because you were never too old to enjoy Disneyland. It had been your first trip with friends instead of family when you’d reached adulthood. You smiled fondly back at the joyous photo, all of you wearing Micky Mouse ears and grinning at the camera.

Connie and Sasha were two of your closest friends and though they were together romantically they never made you feel like a third wheel. You enjoyed their company dearly. The picture would get a place of honor in the living room before you went to bed that night, concluding your first day of unpacking.

The next two days went by in a blur of screws, hammers, nails, bubble wrap, newspaper, and boxes as you unpacked neatly tucked items and assembled furniture that was somehow always missing a screw or two that probably wasn’t important to the overall design anyway. Hopefully, the instructions were more like guidelines. So long as the furniture was sturdy and looked the way it did in the picture, it was fine. A lot of it was place holder furniture anyway. Rather cheap IKEA stuff that would serve to fill space and allow storage as you’d slowly accumulate nicer goods overtime.

It was a process, you reminded yourself, and the home wouldn’t be perfect or look like a catalog home right off the bat. It was what your mother had told you as well when you told her you were buying your first home. Her encouragement and soothing words also helped to keep you grounded much like the techniques you were still learning and utilizing from your time in therapy.

You’d hardly been out of the house since Friday when you first moved in and in spite of your fatigue caused by tedious unpacking, you were itching to start work on the front yard.

Not the backyard.

That was an adventure you weren’t ready for. You didn’t have an idea mapped out for that yet and weren’t going to spin out trying to construct a plan for it. The backyard would be last. Mainly because that was going to be a big project. It wasn’t poorly maintained, but it was empty. It had a nice lawn, much like the front yard, but that was it.

A blank slate almost overwhelmed you more. It allowed too many options. When you were ready, you’d likely ask the opinion of your parents or friends. Picking their brain for ideas would be helpful and take some of the burden of decisions from your shoulders.

But that was another day, likely many weeks from where you stood now.

Where you stood now was The Home Depot, in the gardening section, looking over the flowers, shrubs, pots, and yard décor they had to offer.

As you promised yourself earlier, you picked up some purple pansies, leaving every other flower and shrubbery up to the whimsy of your mood. Once you had enough plant life to fill the sparce areas of your new home you picked out a few more gardening essentials that you were severely lacking in. Such as gardening gloves, a trowel, and a small bag of soil to fill the few cute pots you would put on the front porch containing succulents. Because succulents were hard to kill—and admittedly you were still a bit green regarding the whole gardening thing.

Pun very much intended.

You snorted at your own stupid joke.

People looked at you in the checkout line.

You looked away, chagrinned.

Quickly, you paid for your greenery items and scurried out to your car. You would start planting right when you got home. It was still early in the morning, hardly 9:00 am. Way earlier than you liked to get up if you were being honest. But, if you started now you could get most of it done before it got too hot.

This was Mike’s favorite way to start the morning. With his heart pounding in his ears to the tune of his running mix, his nose filled with the fresh scent of the creek’s running water, and his bare shoulders gently warmed by the sunlight dancing through the canopy of trees overhead.

Almost every day before work, Mike would jog down to the creek trail not far from the house, enjoy the scenery, make a loop or two around the two mile-long path, and then jog home. It was a routine that never changed. He’d been doing it for years now and the consistency was part of what grounded him. He would credit his morning run with assisting in coping with his PTSD. Going without triggered his anxiety and instantly set a poor tone for his day. As such, his boyfriends were good about allowing him to untangle from the sheets every morning, despite one not being a morning person—because he hardly slept in the first place— and the other being a bit of a cuddlier, though he would insist Mike was the cuddlier. Not himself.

A smile tugged at Mike’s lips at the memory. He wiped his sweating brow with his shirt which was draped around his neck rather than on his body. He’d discarded it early in his run in favor of feeling the light breeze tickle over his bare torso.

His breathing changed as dirt road turned back into concrete when he turned from the creek trail back onto the sidewalk of the main streets of his neighborhood, making his way towards home.

As home came into view, his jog slowed to a walk, allowing his muscles to feel the rush of blood flow under his skin, the tingling throb of adrenaline cycling through his system becoming more noticeable with the shift of pace. Mike’s arms stretched over his head before bending at the joints. His hands folded behind his skull just under the knot of his blonde hair—the half up hairstyle keeping his shaggy bangs out of his face.

Getting closer to his home, he noticed a difference in the normally consistent pattern of houses along the street. A person was in the yard of the house beside his. Their old neighbor had never spent time tending to the yard. He hummed a curious sound. He hadn’t yet had the opportunity to introduce himself to their new neighbor. The “for sale” sign had been taken down days ago, and he vaguely remembered the presence of a moving van without occupants when he’d left for work that Friday.

Mike pulled his phone from his pocket, pausing his music before taking out one of his earphones as he got closer to the house. Though his own music was silenced, a new tune hit his ears, getting louder the closer he got to the kneeling form. The music wasn’t so loud that he would have to yell over it—he could probably clear his throat and the stranger would hear him.

With every intention to politely do just that, he opened his lips and—

Stopped dead in his tracks the moment he got behind the stranger because of what he was greeted by.

There you were, in front of him, on your hands and knees, back arched and your body at an incline as you dug the hole in front of you. But that’s not what got his attention. It was that your legging covered ass was perfectly on display, high in the air, round and inviting.

Mike stood there; mouth partially agape without realizing it. It was a few moments of ogling before he could take in more than that. He picked up your gentle voice, humming to the tune of what was playing on your portable speaker, he picked up the scent of flowers and damp earth, and he picked up on your doe like eyes wide with surprise. It was only then he noticed you had turned around away from your project, hand on your heart as you let out a yelp of surprise at finding someone standing behind you.

A giant standing behind you.

“H-hello…” you murmured, collecting yourself as you moved to turn down your music to a gentle background noise.

Mike was able to take that time to gather himself. He quickly closed his mouth, clearing his throat and rubbing the back of his neck. The man made a conscious effort not to stare, though now that he could see your face it was becoming even more difficult. A cute face to go with a nice ass. A blush dusted his cheeks. Hopefully covered by the sun kissed pigment of his skin.

God willing.

“Uh sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.” He lifted his hand not currently on the back of his neck, pointing to the house to his left, the one with the magnolia tree. “M’name’s Mike Zacharias, I live next door.” He put on a smile though it was no less sheepish than his previous expression. “I hadn’t had the chance to introduce myself yet.” He was thankful to have a cover up to his staring.

You paused for a long moment, the gears in your head almost audible—then recognition flashed over your face. Part of you was trying to recall the conversation you’d had with Della on move in day, the other part was mesmerized by the husky voice.

The sudden brightness that filled in your eyes when you smiled had Mike’s heart in his throat.

“Oh! Yes,” Pulling yourself up to standing, you rubbed your palms together to brush off the dirt and then pulled off one of your gardening gloves, extending a clean hand to him. “I’m [y/n] [l/n]. It’s nice to meet you.” You were extremely eager to make a good impression on your neighbors. You thought you had done a pretty good job with Della—though her cookie offering had done most of the work for you. It was imperative you get along with Mike and his partner. After all, you’d gotten very lucky with most of your neighbors throughout your life. Most of that was due to your parents. Your mother was friendly, polite, and warm. Your father was boisterous, funny, and generous. You strived to offer the same mix to your neighbors and have a good relationship.

You had seen enough episodes of “Fear Thy Neighbor” to understand that a poor relationship on either side of you could wreck an otherwise comfortable home life.

Of course, “Fear Thy Neighbor” was the most dramatic of examples often leading to violence and murder.

You should probably stop watching the ID channel.

Stick to the stupid reality shows.

Mike swallowed thickly, the dusted pink in his cheeks brightening. His large palm engulfed yours and it was as if his blush traveled from his face, down his arm, through your hands and up to your own cheeks. His hand was huge, it practically swallowed yours. Your palm was completely swaddled by the deceptively gentle squeeze of a rough hand, slight calluses made firm by some sort of labor you couldn’t name.

With your surprise having warn off from the initial contact you found yourself fully registering the man in front of you—

And holy shit if your brain didn’t almost immediately short circuit again.

First of all, he was a giant. Already established—but something you didn’t truly comprehend until you’d stood and fully approached him from your botany project. If you dug the hole you were working on a little deeper, you were pretty sure you could plant Mike up to his knees and he’d continue growing into the tree he so clearly was.

Second of all there was his face which was generously exposed by his tied back dark blond hair. Hazelly-green eyes, pronounced nose—that fit him perfectly, and a strong jaw lightly bearded along it as well as his upper lip.

Your eyes followed the curve of his jaw down his neck, past his broad shoulders and onto a sparsely haired chest just where his defined pectorals met. If you followed the path from his chest down to his toned stomach, which you absolutely did, you found the same light etching of hair extending from his navel down to his—

Your eyes quickly darted back up to his face, your own heating up substantially as your hands all too soon disconnected.

Mike placed his hands on his hips which served to flex his strong arms and momentarily distract you again.

If you could have slapped yourself subtly, you would have done so. But with those hazel eyes boring into you, you settled for mentally berating your thirst. ‘Get it together woman. He’s taken… and gay.’ But gay came second to taken. It was important to respect a preexisting relationship. It was important to respect sexuality too.

But—

You could look, right? No harm in looking. That’s why people went to museums. To drool over the Statue of David.

That throaty voice pulled you back to focus. “So, is it just you?” If you weren’t completely sure that the man in front of you was gay, the question would have sounded hopeful.

He must have just been asking so he could introduce himself to any other potential newcomers.

“Yep just me. It’s my first house.” He didn’t ask for that second part, but you were proud. You were proud of having your own home and doing so alone. You didn’t have to depend on anyone to get to this important step in your life. That wasn’t something many people could say. You weren’t trying to brag—it was just that residual excitement of having achieved one of your life goals.

Mike to his credit seemed excited for you. His eyebrows raised, as if impressed. Buying a home was getting harder and harder for every generation. Though he didn’t seem too much older than you. Probably in his early 30’s. Even if he were ten years older than you that would be a generational gap and that meant the struggles to find a home were different between the two of you. However, you didn’t think he could be that much older than you considering you were in the later part of your 20’s. 30’s seeming to creep ever closer. But seeing Mike reminded you that your 30’s didn’t make you old in the slightest. The more you looked at Mike, the better your 30’s looked. Because fuck if Mike wasn’t fine as hell.

You were thinking too far ahead again, this time years.

To pull yourself from your spinning thoughts, you looked back at Mike’s face. The smile momentarily dazed you. Because of course he would also have perfect teeth. “Congratulations, that’s wonderful.” He murmured, looking to your house for a moment and then back at you. The house was rather large for one person. “No significant other chomping at the bit to invade your space yet?” The tone was teasing, and you managed a laugh which dispelled your previously spiraling thoughts. God, sometimes you didn’t even notice when they were spiraling.

Mike seemed interested in your relationship status. It put little butterflies in your stomach which were squashed when you looked down at yourself. Even if Mike were interested in females, why would he be interested in you?

You growled internally at those disparaging thoughts to shut the fuck up. You counted to three in your head, a brief distraction from those thoughts used to ground you in the present.

Normally, you preferred your longer methods of distraction, like your colors. However, those weren’t feasible when in the middle of a conversation with your hot neighbor.

“Nope, no boyfriend or anything. Just me and maybe a dog or a cat at some point.” You grinned at the idea, reminding yourself that now that you had your own home no one could tell you if you could have a pet or not. No landlord, no parent, no roommate—no permission needed.

The twinkle in Mike’s eye was easily missed. “My votes’ for a cat,” he murmured offhandedly.

“Not a dog fan?” You asked playfully. Though maybe he was worried about you having a yappy dog that he would have to listen to all day. Understandable.

“No, I like dogs too,” Did his voice get a little deeper? “Just always been fond of kittens.” His eyes slid over you, a smile tugging at his lips that made your blush from earlier give an encore performance.

‘Taken. And. Gay.’ You reminded yourself, willing the blush to dissipate and scolding yourself for reading too much into his gaze. Schooling your expression with the same friendly smile you’d given Della; you nodded your head. “Well I’ll just have to drag you along when I adopt one, then you can play with some pussy.”

Oh lord.

That was a Freudian slip if there ever was one.

You felt your face go hot and resisted the overwhelming compulsion to connect your palm to your forehead. Inappropriate joke for a first meeting—for sure.

Mike’s eyes flashed with something you couldn’t name, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. “I’ll take you up on that,” he grinned, and the expression was playful, putting you a bit more at ease. “It’s been far too long since I’ve played with a cute pussy.”

Your thighs squeezed together. Unnoticeably, you prayed.

Mike must have been messing with your somewhat unintentional word choice. Though you were happy that Mike seemed to be the lighthearted type. You could see yourself forming a friendship with the man. Hopefully, his boyfriend (husband?) was half as laid back.

You also hopped his partner was half as sexy.

Because if he was just as sexy as Mike, you were going to suffer a heat stroke.

The giant grinned, tilting his head to gesture to his home. “I gotta get ready for work.” Was it your imagination or did he look a bit reluctant? His grin was back in place too soon to really tell. You nodded your head politely with a little wave just before he turned away.

“It was nice to meet you.” You called, getting back on your knees next to the little pit you’d dug for your shrub.

The blond looked over his strong shoulder as he made his way down the sidewalk and threw you a very obvious wink. “Catch ya later, kitten.” He replied before he rounded his driveway and walked up to his front door, giving you one more glance and disappearing inside the much larger home.

Blinking, you sat frozen for a few moments before your eyes drifted to the hole beside you. Maybe if you dug it a bit deeper you could bury yourself in it.

Because Mike was surely going to be the death of you.

When Mike got back into the house, he had to lean against the door, tilting his head back to let the cooling air of the AC drench his heated skin. Though at this point the heat was less from his run and more from the cute new neighbor. It took everything in his power not to pin you to the dirt right there. He let out a little groan, hardly audible.

But just audible enough.

A voice, smooth as honey called from around the corner. “Mike? You alright?”

Mike hummed an affirmative and pushed himself off the door to make his way to the kitchen where the voice was coming from. If he didn’t answer right away, he knew the male would come searching for him and instantly begin to drill him on his mental state. There was no need for that.

His mental state was good. Very good this morning.

His large palm came up to slide over the marble of the kitchen island as he bypassed it to get to the fridge, sticking his head in for longer than necessary to retrieve a water bottle. A soft crack filled the room as he twisted the cap, breaking the seal as he turned to face the kitchen table. Two sets of eyes peered over at him. One set a bright blue; the color of the ocean, the other a stormy grey sky.

The honey voice spoke again, the blue eyes having been peering behind a newspaper completely revealed by its placement on the table. “Good run I take it?”

“Looks a little too happy about a run, Erwin.” The stormy eyed male murmured from behind a teacup held at the rim.

Mike smirked a little. Levi always was perceptive. They both were. But Levi noticed subtleties far more quickly than Erwin did. “I met our new neighbor.” He brought the opening of the bottle to his lips, letting the chilled liquid sooth his throat of the dryness from his run.

“Oh?” Erwin asked, leaning back in his seat and tilting his head back as a silent hint for Mike to lean down to him. Levi was good at noticing subtleties, but Mike was good at reading hints. He leaned down and pressed his lips to Erwin’s, his own cool and water glazed compared to Erwin’s soft and warm ones. “Mm hm,” He confirmed while righting himself. “And Levi,” Mike moved to the other side of the table, tilting Levi’s head back with a fingertip to direct his gaze to him which had been glued upon the novel in his left hand. The ravenette looked up from his book with the giant’s prompting, gaze aloof and seemingly disinterested. However, the look in Mike’s eyes gave him pause.

Since Mike knew Levi, really knew him, he noticed the curiosity lingering behind that seemingly blank expression.

Mike pecked his lips to the shorter male’s, whispering against them. “She’d be perfect.”

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