#this is 5295 words

[iceman-kazansky]

Can you write Seb x driver!reader where driver wins race after race and wins the championship and becomes red bulls prodigy and basically Seb is jealous of her and he basically hates her but she’s kind to him and everyone so he ends up falling in love with her

Little Miss Sunshine 

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙· ̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙

Requested by: Anon 

Request: ^^

Pairings: Sebastian Vettel x F!RB!Driver!reader 

Warnings: Seb is a bit of an ass at first (as per request,) typical red bull menace era Seb. Y/n utilized. Kissing. Getting drunk. Angst to fluff. No Danny ric to RB and Hamilton doesn't win WDC that year (for the plot.)

Word count: 5295

A/n: AHHH OMG I LOVED THIS REQUEST! GIGGLED AND KICKED MY FEET WHEN I GOT THIS! Hope you enjoy this :):) P.S. Sorry this took so long, Life got quite hectic haha

Taglist: none (if you'd like to be on my taglist, there's a link to the form at the bottom of the post! :] )

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙ ＊*• 

You had smiled awkwardly at Sebastian when you’d first met him, given him a little wave and greeted him rather shyly. It wasn’t your first year in Formula 1, of course, though, you’d come from a cheaper team, one that hadn’t had a streak of winning like Red Bull. So, naturally, you were a little timid of the new environment and determined not to let your team down or have a sour relation with your teammate.

You were standing in your race suit, your white balaclava pulled over your head as you adjusted your helmet before climbing into your car.

Sitting in the new vehicle had never felt this nerve-wracking. Already, all of their eyes were on you and their expectations were high. You were nervous, eaten to the core by the fear that you might disappoint your new team on your maiden grand prix for them. 

Without further ado, you shoved those thoughts down and went through the routine of starting your car. The engine roared to life and emitted a low purr. Carefully, you steered your car out of the garage, entering the pit lane.

After the formation lap, you'd taken your position at your spot on the grid, lining up midway through the lineup. Around you, the roar of the new v6 engines filled your ears as the lights began igniting.

As the lights went out and you pulled ahead of a few other drivers, you managed to keep up your pace, chasing Sebastian for the entire session.

On your maiden Red Bull race, you'd placed an impressive P2, second none other to teammate Sebastian Vettel.

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙ ＊*• 

The previous race wasn't where your success stopped. Not at all. Last grand prix, you'd placed below Sebastian, something you considered a result of your lesser driving skills compared to the 4 time world champion. Yet, it wasn't long before you found yourself surpassing him on many occasions. 

You placed higher than him many times, scoring podiums nearly every race. And Sebastian didn't like that he was being out-driven by his new teammate. It left a sour taste in his mouth. 

He began to resent you. He loathed the fact that you were new to this team, to Red Bull, a group so closely-knit because of him. The constant reminder that you had penetrated the family-like racing team he had worked so hard to make closer, was impossible to forget when you –in his words– paraded around the paddock with your bright, easy smiles and kind words. He hated the way you smiled so cheerily, sun rays woven between pearly teeth that portrayed a constant warmth. Your smile seemed to never stop shining and it made Sebastian even more bitter about the situation.

Maybe it was silly. A stupid rivalry. But Sebastian was stubborn and he very much liked winning. He liked being dubbed ‘the best’ 4 consecutive years. And you were taking that away from him. He hated you for it.

It was a particularly bad race for Sebastian. Or, atleast, he'd call it bad. He hadn't placed nearly as high as he'd hoped and it made him angry. You on the other hand, had unsurprisingly placed first, which extended your lead over Sebastian and only increased his frustration.

He climbed out of his car, sweating heavily and anger hot as lava beneath his skin. You followed suit before making your way over to him where he stood. He groaned as you approached, his rage boiling.

“That was a tough race, Sebastian,” You said to him, a small, friendly smile on your face, “You did good.”

Something in the way you smiled at him while you said that made him frustrated and irritable. “Save your sympathy for someone who wants it,” He spat angrily, eyes hardened to a glare.

Sebastian didn't miss the small frown that found its way to your lips, and he found himself feeling a small tinge of something in his chest. It almost frightened him at the peculiar nature of the newly discovered feeling.

“I was just being nice,” You replied in a quieter, much sadder tone, “Sorry.”

As you turned and walked away without another word, Sebastian watched. The German driver knew he should do something. Say something. Call you back and apologize. Yet, his mouth remained glued shut and his eyes locked on your retreating form.

“Fuck,” He cursed to himself, a frustrated hand coming up to run through his sweaty strands of hair.

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙ ＊*• 

It was race day again and already, Sebastian wasn't in a good mood. The previous argument had gone forgotten by him and his anger resurged. You'd out-everything'd him. Out-qualified; Out-lapped; Out-fastest lapped; You'd out-raced him entirely, scoring yourself pole position to start the race off.

Sebastian was a few grid spots back. It wasn't his finest performance over the past few days, he would admit that much.

His eyes were locked on the red lights above the grid that slowly began their count.

1..

The first one ignited.

2..

The second light burned a bright red, and Sebastian tapped his fingers on the steering wheel.

3..

The third set of lights turned on. Sebastian began to rev his car's engine by pressing his foot on the gas.

4..

The fourth pair of lights lit up, and Sebastian could feel his anticipation growing. He wasn't going to let you win again today. He had to place higher than you.

5..

Finally, the fifth pair of lights blinked on. Sebastian subconsciously squeezed the steering wheel, eyes locked firmly on the red lights as he waited almost impatiently.

The lights all extinguished, and all the cars surged forwards as the race began.

Sebastian was fighting tooth and nail as he moved his way up the race standings. He raced behind you now, your car's tail end visible not far ahead. 

You were driving spectacularly. You pulled corners with professional precision, accelerating out of them with the help of ERS to propel you forward, your car following a unique racing line all with a feel that came natural to you.

Sebastian was pushing his car to the limits as he caught up to you, using all of his ability to keep up and attempt an overtake. You were quick to defend when he moved over slightly to pass, your car zipping in front of him to effectively block his path.

It made him angry and want to take first place from you even more. Sebastian just barely managed to get to a point where he was wheel-to-wheel with you on a straightaway. Yet, a corner with a decreased radius was rapidly approaching as your fight for first intensified.

Your car pulled to the outer edge of the track as you followed the perfect racing line into the turn, Sebastian almost parallel with you. The German driver knew he needed to brake soon and get into a better racing line to complete this corner, but he was too caught up in the fact he was neck and neck with you, fighting for first and he didn't want to pull away and give up.

At almost the same time, your cars slowed coming into the corner, and Sebastian steered sharply into the turn as the track narrowed. 

It all happened in a flash. One minute, both of you were racing around the corner, determined to obtain first place and refusing to allow the other to simply have it, and the next, Sebastian's car, which was going a little too fast as it rounded the bend at the same time yours did, veered straight into the side of your car. The impact sent both of you skidding out of control. Your car spun a few times, tossed straight off the track and into the gravel before smashing into the barrier, Sebastian's following the same track, only slightly ahead of yours.

The German's head was pounding as he came to a stop, a nauseous feeling collecting in his stomach. Only when his eyes laid on your similarly crashed car did he feel a strange sense of panic. Fighting against his restraints, he quickly unbuckled himself, scrambling out of his car once he'd shut it off. His feet had barely hit the ground before he had taken off running towards your crashed car.

It didn't take long to reach you, and when he did he was met with what appeared to be a very disorientated you, who groaned, your helmet pressed against the back of your seat. He reached over to shut off your car when you hadn’t already. His nerves were through the roof, panic running icy-cold through his veins. “Are you okay?” He asked, trying to keep his voice calmer than he really felt. When you didn't answer immediately, he asked again, “Y/n, are you okay?”

You groaned in reply, your helmet turning slightly to face him, the object obscuring your face from him. “I'm okay. Are you okay?”

Sebastian blinked a few times in confusion. You were the one still sitting in the car, and asking if he was okay? “Yeah, I'm fine.” He replied after a minute, baffled.

A sigh of relief left your lips and Sebastian imagined one of your signature smiles finding its way onto your face. 

In a strange moment of what he would call brain-fog, but in reality was clarity, Sebastian felt comforted by that thought. However, he was quick to force that feeling back down to the deepest, warmest pits of his heart and soul. Shoving back down that tiny bit of himself that felt warm and fuzzy at the mention of your name. That tiny bit he never wanted to confront because a part of him knew what it meant.

You got out of your car after that, unbuckling your harness and climbing out. Marshals had arrived on scene and before you knew it, they were giving both of you rides back to the paddock.

When you got back to the Red Bull Garage, both of you had pulled off your helmet and your balaclavas. Sebastian still felt stubbornly bitter, but underneath all that was a strong sense of guilt. He knew it was his fault both of you crashed. Yet, when he looked at your face for the first time since you'd both spun out and hit the barriers, he didn't see anger. He saw a soft smile and a warm look present on your face.

Sebastian didn't understand. Why weren't you angry at him? He was the reason why you both crashed, and he'd subsequently gotten both of you disqualified from the race entirely. Any other person would've been fuming, spitting fire from an angry tongue and steam rolling from their ears. Yet, why weren't you?

For a moment– a split second– Sebastian felt his bitterness ebb away. There was this growing tingling in his chest, and he could feel his stomach knotting itself as it thrashed in turmoil. He found himself staring at you, his anger and so-called loathe of you forgotten, now replaced by a feeling of warm fondness. Again.

The German shook his head to clear those thoughts and feelings. This was the second time today this had happened. What had gotten into him?

The moment for Sebastian didn't last long as soon enough your team principal came out and had a stern talking to both of you, but overall you both got let off easy.

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙ ＊*• 

It was the finishing night of another race week again. One of the many breaks in the season was starting and everyone was in good spirits. Especially Sebastian, as for the first time in awhile this season, he came out with an impressive P1. After a few interviews you were finally free and you went back to your hotel room, feeling particularly exhausted and more than ready for this break.

You opened the door, pulling off your shoes with sluggish movements. The moment your head hit the pillow, you fell into a deep sleep, your body more than happy to receive its much-needed rest.

It was the middle of the night when your phone rang, stirring you from your sleep. You groggily read the contact: Sebastian. Why was he calling you? “Hello?” You yawned into the speaker, using your free hand to wipe your eyes, hoping to wake yourself a bit.

“Hiii,” Sebastian slurred, his voice unusually cheery, “how are you?”

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. It was obvious now that he was drunk. “I’m good, how are you? What’s up?”

“I’m gooood,” He replied, and you noticed the stretching out the syllables of his words when he talked. “Nothings up, I just wanted to talk to you.”

You hummed. “Okay. You’re drunk. Do you need a ride?”

Sebastian was quiet for a few minutes, the only sound being a hiccup, followed by a soft, “Yeah..” 

Sighing, you had already started to get out of bed, getting ready to go pick up Sebastian. “Where are you? I’m coming to get you.”

Once Sebastian managed to spit out his location through his slurred speech, you were on your way. Pulling up to the boisterous club, you noticed Sebastian standing outside on the sidewalk.

You parked and climbed out, knowing damn well he'd need help if he really was anywhere near as drunk as he sounded over the phone.

Sebastian smiled when he noticed you, something you were definitely unaccustomed to after these past months. What surprised you even more was his arms wrapping around your waist as he took upon his drunk self to hug you. 

“Have you always looked this nice?” He asks as he pulls away, and you are forced to shake off the shock of the clinginess when he compliments you.

“Good to see you too,” You say, chuckling in embarrassment at his words, his unnatural actions not going unnoticed by you. “Here, let's get you into the car.”

Sebastian, lucky for you, wasn't one to fight the idea of going back to the hotel and almost eagerly followed your instructions. Your hands guided him in as he plopped unceremoniously down. Watching from the open door, you observed Sebastian struggling with his seatbelt, trying hard to click it in securely but failing miserably. Sighing, you bent over and did it for him before closing the door and crossing the car to get in the driver's seat again.

As you began driving, you imagined the car ride to be quiet, but Sebastian had other plans.

“Thank you for driving me,” he hiccuped, starting the small talk easy.

“It's no big deal,” You replied, glancing at him in the passenger seat. You were a little shocked to find him looking right back at you, his gaze shamelessly wandering your features.

“Look, I'm sorry for being really mean all the time,” Sebastian said suddenly, breaking your distracted train of thought. 

“It's okay,” you replied, gazing back at the road. He was drunk and you weren't sure if his words were as true as they would've been had he been sober.

“But it's not okay,” Sebastian hiccuped, “You're nothing but nice to me and I'm always so angry with you. Don't you ever get upset with me?”

You swallowed a little nervously, staring out the window. When you'd first joined Red Bull at the start of this season, you'd heavily admired Sebastian, but over time your opinion of him was altered through his harshness.

“I..” You mumbled, unsure how to state your view without possibly offending him, “Sometimes.”

Sebastian took a long time to respond after that, and the silence seems to shove you into the spotlight. After an awkward momentary pause, you find yourself blurting out your true feelings to Sebastian in a desperate attempt to end this silence that eats you up. He wouldn't remember this conversation in the morning, anyway. “I just wanted to be as good as you. I saw someone who was a great racer, and I strived to be like that. But then, when I did get to that level, I was met with nothing but resentment. And I'm not even sure I know why.”

More silence. The only noise is the sound of the car as it drives and you wish nothing more than the radio to be on to take away some of these unpleasantly long pauses.

“You probably think I hate you,” Sebastian slurred finally. From your peripherals, you saw him hang his head in shame and sit forward again.

That took you off guard. Through his harsh words, his angry glares, and the countless times he'd displayed his very obvious disdain for you, he'd made it clear that he did hate you, and quite vehemently. If not hate, then a strong distaste. Hell, you were partially certain you’d remembered him saying something in a press conference once. Now, drunken and lost from his wits, he was telling you he didn't feel that at all? That his appearance was not as it seemed all this time? “You don't..?”

“Me? Hate you? No. Quite the opposite, actually.” Sebastian exclaimed, drunken head snapping up to meet your gaze.

Oh.

A beat of silence. A confession that feels like a mouthful too big to swallow. “What?” You ask, mind spinning with what he could possibly mean. 

“I don't hate you,” Sebastian repeats. “Not anymore.”

This doesn't make sense. None of it does. Why does he tell you this now? And here, of all places? “Not anymore?” You repeat, a plea for him to elaborate.

“No,” he sighs, “I've been so stupid.. and stubborn. You threatened my reputation as the best Red Bull driver and I really didn't like that.. And, you were always so.. nice. So kind and cheery all the time. The cameras seemed to be attracted to you, you were press eye-candy and they took full advantage of that. I envied how carefree you were and how much you stole the spotlight off me. How perfect you seemed.”

For a minute you forget he's drunk. Forget that maybe he might not mean a word of this. That he's so out of his wits that he probably doesn't know what he's saying. And it's blissful when you do. To live in ignorance and take his words as they seem. The inebriated lack of clarity he experiences not once crossing your mind, even for just a moment. You allow yourself to think he means it.

“I–” you mumble, not entirely sure what to say, “What made you change your mind?”

Sebastian didn't speak right away, but you could see the way his face portrayed the internal battle he fought. “When I crashed into you and you didn't move. Not an inch.” He pauses, gulping before continuing on quietly, “I thought I’d killed you. I got out of my car the quickest I've ever before and fought to get to you. Something told me I had to see if you were okay. I'd never been so scared in my life.”

His admittance was something unexpected. You wanted to believe him, a small voice in your mind whispered repeatedly ‘drunk words are sober thoughts.’ Now, in your mind, you wonder what he could have possibly meant when he said he didn’t hate you, instead claiming to have felt something ‘quite the opposite.’ What was that opposing thing? It made you wonder if that soft twinkle in his eyes when he looked at you was just your imagination, or if it was really something to consider.

Silence settles like death over the car. Maybe it’s your lack of response, but it doesn’t matter because soon enough, you’re pulling into the hotel parking lot and helping Sebastian back up to his room.

It’s quiet as you lead him down the long hallway, passing many rooms before finally stopping at his door. He uses a keycard to unlock it, and he stumbles in as soon as he does. You walk into his hotel room, bringing him to his bed. You leave for a minute, going to the bathroom to grab the garbage bin and filling a glass with water from the sink. “Here,” You say, extending the glass to him, “Drink this,” You pause, setting the bin on the floor by the bed, “And use this if you need to throw up any time in the night.”

Sebastian nods, finishing up his glass of water.

You sigh, heading to the door and deciding your work is done. “Goodnight Sebastian,” you say to him.

“Goodnight Y/n,” He replies and you leave.

In your own room, you lay restless for a while, pondering everything Sebastian said to you, and for a minute, you like to believe something has changed. That this feeling in you is real and things are really different than they were.

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙ ＊*• 

Months pass from that night, Sebastian never brings up the topic. Yet, things don’t fall back to how they were. You haven’t had any quarrels with the German since then. His words, albeit not at the front of your mind, still ring in your ears from time to time. By now, It’s the end of the season- The last race. And, you’ve won.

The feeling of parking your car at the first-place marker and climbing out onto its long body, hearing the crowds shouts of congratulations while the full weight of your accomplishment began to set in, produced an indescribable emotion. The jumps of joy you denied fighting against as you shouted and screamed in a disbelieving glee, your feet leaving the ground as you leapt around in a craze. As soon as you stepped off your car, you’d jogged across the tarmac and leaped at the fence, straight into the warm embrace of your team. Their acclamations washed over you while they patted your back and shoulders in celebration. When you had finally separated from your team and found yourself walking that short bridge- which, in comparison, had felt much longer and slower than it really was and stepped onto the podium for first place, the sounds of the crowd below you roaring in celebration, their loud cheers filling the air and ringing loud in your ears, made you realize they were cheering for you. As you stood in front of the world, on display, the national anthem for your country playing proudly for the winner, you could feel tears of joy start to well in your eyes.

You’d done it. You’d won the World Drivers Championship. The first female driver in history to ever win a WDC, and you had done it. Through years of hard work in karting as a child, pushing yourself all the way up into the formulas, you had accomplished it. When you’d made your debut into Formula 1, you could hardly believe it then. You never imagined you’d have made it this far into the sport. Of course, you’d dreamed of winning a WDC, as every other driver did. Ever since you were in karting it had been an unimaginable feat you always reached for, striving to one day achieve. A feat many drivers never got a glimpse of. To be dubbed the greatest in Formula 1 was something unbelievable. But here you were, standing atop the podium, being handed the first place trophy of the season’s final grand prix, securing your position as the World Champion. A constant reminder in your mind of ‘you were the champion- the best,’ made your happiness only increase. 

As you held the trophy in your hands, lifting it high over your head, you let the tears fall. There was a wide smile of joy plastered across your face, stretching from ear-to-ear. You held the trophy in the air, a silent echo of your words that screamed ‘I’ve won’ being conveyed through the simple act.

Eventually, you set down your trophy, careful not to break it, the champagne bottle now held in your hands as you popped the cork. You felt the sticky spray from the other podium members as they pelted you with the bubbly drink, while you took a short turn blasting either of them with the liquid. After a moment, you turned and faced the crowd, shaking the bottle and shooting champagne over them with a smile on your face. 

Suddenly, there was a wet feeling of champagne being poured over your head, soaking your hair and running down your race suit, it had you turning to face the other podium winners, one of them being none other than your teammate Sebastian Vettel. He was smiling broadly at you, holding his champagne bottle above your head, dumping the rest of the yellow liquid over you in congrats. You couldn’t care less about it, rather enjoying the celebration more and more as it progressed. You still could hardly believe the fact you’d won the WDC.

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙ ＊*• 

The 2014 Red Bull team went out to party that night, the whole group hitting one of the team members' houses that was coincidentally not far from the location of the last grand prix, upon arrival, booze was promptly handed out.

You, on the other hand, strayed from partaking in the drinking of alcohol. Tonight was your celebration night, and you much preferred to spend it remembering rather than drunk off your wits.

You'd found yourself seeking an isolated place. Somewhere to go to regain your thoughts, almost as if you were relishing in your own victory but with silent regard.

There was a peacefulness on the quiet balcony that made admiring the sky easy. High above your head, the night sky stretched across the horizon like a blanket. Stars looked like pin pricks amongst the great ebony expanse. There was a slight chill to the evening air, but not one great enough for you to retreat back into the mansion. Inside, the party raged on, with loud music blasting loud enough you could hear it from your place on the balcony.

The sound of the sliding balcony door opening caught your attention. Reluctantly tearing your eyes away from the beautiful night sky, you found yourself face-to-face with none other than Sebastian.

“Hello,” He greeted, “Whatcha doin’ up here?”

Sebastian was drunk. That much was obvious with the messy onslaught of slurred words and the slight stumble in his step as he joined you in leaning on the balcony.

“I wanted some time alone.” You answered. It wasn't a lie. You really did get away purposefully to be alone.

“Why? It's your party,” he hiccupped, his drunken gaze swimming with confusion.

You sighed. Yes, it was your party, but you just wanted to be alone for a bit to truly celebrate your victory without a full-blown party. “I know it’s my party.” 

Sebastian didn’t say anything after that, instead choosing to just stand silently beside you. Naturally, your gaze was drawn back to the sky, but this time Sebastian joined you.

The moon was a creamy ball of light against the charcoal of the sky, shedding its milky rays on the both of you and illuminating your faces beneath its glow. There was a gentle stillness to it all, a serenity to the scene, with the only sound being the whisper of the wind as it danced near-silently through the trees in the yard. The warmth from Sebastian lingered on your bare arms, his own skin so close to your own.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” you said, admiring the stars.

Sebastian merely hummed, and it caused you to glance at him. His eyes weren’t to the sky, instead, they were transfixed on your figure.

You turned to stare into his eyes, neither of you broke the contact. You could’ve sworn you’d seen a twinkle of warm fondness in his gaze. No, actually, you were certain you had. 

The shared glance had sparked something within you. A shift that altered the feelings you experienced. Maybe it was all just a hoax. Confusion. But not even you could deny the whispered nothings screaming that maybe what you felt was most definitely something. Something scary. Daunting. Both too scared to traipse through the thick hazy smoke that stung the eyes and invaded every sense, but what neither of you knew was that cloud was protecting the hot embers and warm flames from within. The parts of them that yearned for each other deeply. However, everything was on the verge of coming undone.

You'd hardly realized you and Sebastian subconsciously closed the gap between each other until you felt the warmth of his booze-ridden breath fan your face. With that train of thought, your gaze had lowered to his candy-coloured lips. It took you a minute to process your action, and it was only another second before your gaze returned to his eyes embarrassedly.

Sebastian doesn't seem to notice– or mind– the longing look. His hand reaches up to brush a piece of hair from your face, and you can feel your stomach erupt in swarms of butterflies at the act. He doesn't let his hand fall, instead it moves to tentatively cradle your cheek.

Sebastian leaned in even closer, his lips just above yours. You didn't miss the lingering stare he left on your lips for a little too long. You knew what was about to happen if you didn't move soon. Something deep inside you had you glued to your spot. And for a moment, a split second, the realization that maybe you wanted this struck you.

“May I kiss you?” He whispered, soft slate blue eyes meeting yours, gaze gone unbroken with the sheer intensity of the moment.

Warm fondness rises through you, bubbling softly in your chest. Apprehension courses through your veins, hot like lava to warm your skin despite the late November chill. You won't deny Sebastian the right to kiss you, because deep down you know you want this. You need this. Forever since you'd met him, you've yearned for clarity, for him to draw that line in the sand. To you, this would either spell it out for you or leave you second guessing everything. And that was a risk you considered worth taking.

“I won't say no.” You replied at last, solidifying everything on your end. A wide range of emotions run through your veins, but you don't feel an ounce of regret or unwillingness to taste and feel his lips on yours.

That's all the permission he needs, as he closes that gap to press his lips to yours.

His lips are tender, gentle and soft in a way that makes your knees wobble and your chest tighten. Sebastian's other hand finds its way to your hip, his fingers curling into your skin. 

You find he tastes faintly of liquor, a reminder of his previous drinking. Yet, part of you chooses to ignore it. He wants this too, right?

Your head spins as you stand frozen to the spot, lips linked together. Sebastian inevitably pulls away for air, and you find yourself chasing his lips for a short moment. He notices, a soft smile gracing his features while his hand slides from your cheek to rest on your neck as he pulls you in for a second kiss.

The second kiss ends with both of you pulling away. Sebastian rests his forehead against yours, and it takes a while before you open your eyes again. 

Your breaths mingle in the air between each other, soft smiles present on your faces. High above, the moon observes in awe.

“Will you go out to dinner with me?” Sebastian asks.

Nodding, you reply, “Only if you promise to remember this when you're sober.”

The German’s grin widens, “I don't think I could forget.”

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙ ＊*• 

ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ || ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ || ɴᴀᴠɪɢᴀᴛɪᴏɴ

𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤? 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠! 𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝!

[hiraeth-sonder]

To the River of that Day -あの日の川

Dabi/Todoroki Touya x Reader - Fix-it AU

Area transmigrator gets cheated by a system error and ends up in a slice-of-life despite the odds

TW: Cussing, character death, descriptions of severe injuries such as burns, blunt-force trauma and hypoxemia, brief mentions of hypothetical grooming (nothing actually happens), canonical child abuse, spoilers for the entire Todoroki family lore, possible OOC characters and unreliable narrator my love

//This is a rewrite since I hate myself. Halfway through I think I started writing a comedy. This is very indulgent and wish fulfilment-y.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Dying is very often not a process just anyone remembers. Actually, dying is a process no one remembers, because anyone who knows is dead. 

Of course, you thought you would be in that majority yet here you are. 

After what might have been a very stupid, no good decision to use your electric blanket in the coldest room of your life, as well as somehow peacefully sleeping through the inevitable fire that soon started, you awaken to a dark void as well as a blaringly bright blue screen. You squint your eyes in slight strain, rubbing them with the heel of your hands. 

[New assignment received. New user registered.]

[User objective recognised: Peaceful Life]

[Access for protocol 5295 granted: NPC function, shop function.]

Staring at the blue interface, though your body, if you could even call it a body with the way you were both keenly aware of its weightlessness and each and every tendon in your form, was floating amidst the cushiony emptiness, you drifted closer towards the screen as the Google Translate-esque voice echoed from all around you. You squint your eyes, trying to make out the words. 

[Welcome user 888 to the afterlife relocation interface! As per protocol 2454, user will be soon directed to user customisation to prepare for transmigration.]

Transmigration huh. Well, you’ll be happy even as an NPC and unlike those idiot protagonists that say that and don’t mean it, you will remain an NPC. You won’t interfere with the main character, you won’t try to cosy up with the main antagonist, you won’t make unnecessarily stupid decisions and you’ll communicate, like a normal human being. 

Brought to a character customisation screen not so unlike those in video games, there was a large mirror and a bunch of little settings for you to fiddle with. Though you would be all but absorbed into the customisation, a little tab caught your attention. 

‘Human’

With a tentative hand, you click on it and a long list of races drops down. Of course, it wasn’t too long and based on some of the options, you could make a precarious guess as to what kind of world you were going to be dropped into. Kitsune, various types of tsukumogami, yūrei, and interestingly enough, tatsu. Or ryu, ryo, wani, whatever same thing.

Unlike any of the other options, this was one where you could guarantee some form of detachment. Kitsune were likely to be hunted down, especially those of younger ages, a tsukumogami was bound to interact with humans and you weren’t planning on being exorcised that quick, let alone the exorcism speedrun that was sure to happen with being a yūrei. Being a ryu would mean either getting to fuck with whoever you want with almost no consequences, or getting to be a hermit, which either way were options you weren’t going to turn down.  

Certainly, if they were giving you such overpowered options, surely you couldn’t be going into just any casual world. 

You selected the ryu option with an assured action, pointedly skimmed through the large wall of text that comes with the change and happily set off to design your outward appearance. There is an upside to your very smart choice, in which you maintain your human visage but gain some stubbed little horns protruding from your forehead and sparse scales at your legs. You even get to design your serpentine dragon form, and with the lack of any time measurement, you’ve probably spent at least a few hours fiddling with scales and colours. 

Staring at yourself in the mirror, you had decided to lean into the traditional look. The full get-up befitting a young mistress rather than a princess, with heavy robes of silks and jewellery of gold and jewels. You even had the chance to put on makeup, which though you were tempted to, you settled for simple dots beneath your eyes if only because indecisiveness was your best friend in these matters. Seemingly, the system had taken the opportunity to lengthen your hair to your lower back, unbound and flowing. A sense of pride fills you, and you just had to admit, it was hard to not feel amazing. 

With that, you tap on the ‘Complete’ button and you are now spawned into an enclosed room, seemingly endless as it stretches far beyond your eyes can see. The system pops once more, and though you had your fan very adoringly clasped in your hand, it's taken away as that robotic voice rings in your head. As it does so, the room changes as dense clouds manifest at your feet. A small window pops up, bearing the image of a fluttering red flag atop a mountain. 

You get a sinking feeling in your stomach. 

[Tutorial stage loaded. Movement tutorial initiated.]

[Please collect the flag set at the end of the course.]

You should have known that picking an option like this would have resulted in such. Well, since you clearly weren’t at the bottom of the ocean, you could rightfully assume the system made you into a rain ryu so at the very least, you didn’t have to fight deep-sea pressure. Rather, you just had to get over your extreme fear of heights, which was better, right?

‘System! I don’t even know how to fly and you want me to do all this?’ You gripe.

[User is a natural in many things, shifting forms to fly should come easy to you (๑˘︶˘๑)]

With a heavy breath, you send it the nastiest stink eye you can muster, ‘If I die from this.’

[Technically, user is already dead.]

You ignore that. Instead, you focus on shifting your bottom half to that of your more draconic form. The rest of the world melts away, and all that is left is just you and your body. The scant dark scales on your legs crawl up your legs, spreading over soft skin until what is left is a long serpentine body and two pairs of clawed legs, human form hidden beneath a draconic form. Upon your change, the clouds before you part and without a single moment of hesitation, lest your nerves truly get to you, you dive down towards the great earth. 

Past the rushing gales, a smile spreads across your lips. The amount of books that have described flight as something extraordinary never made sense to you, but as you brush against cold clouds, you understand that hypothetical feeling. Rather than actual flight through wings, it was more gliding and twisting through the sky, undulating and piercing all the same.  

It is amazing. In your old body, you would have grown tired from even walking two flights of stairs but perhaps you’ve benefited from the new change in more ways than one, because you felt like you could go for longer, for further. Twirling and breezing past closely intertwined trees, you shoot above the treetops and catch sight of something red fluttering atop that high mountain. In one last powerful surge, you snatch the flag between large talons with uncharacteristic ease. 

Yet the moment you do, the environment switches once more, back to blue skies and dense clouds beneath your feet but with a form clad in samurai armour. The flag you once held has been replaced with a naginata, clear blade gleaming under the sunlight. You are unceremoniously dropped from the sky, and though you’re still in your draconic form, you’re forced to shift back to your more human form. By no means is moving, hell even walking supposed to be hard, but heavy silks and jewellery aren’t exactly the most movement friendly. Mild (absolute) trepidation fills you, yet with a quick breath, you steel your nerves and hold your naginata in front of you, the system, thankfully realises your dilemma and quickly changes your appearance to fit the situation. Then with a bright flash, your training partner springs to life. 

[Movement tutorial completed. Naginata tutorial loading…]

Eyeing your opponent, you mutter, ‘Hey can this guy kill me?’

[All tutorials must be completed before user can be relocated, invalid completion may mean a return to user’s original body.]

‘Didn’t answer my question but thanks?’

[User should not worry since this is only a tutorial! ⸜( ´ ꒳ ` )⸝]

You’ve never actually fought anyone, if you had to be honest. The closest you ever got to an actual fight was when you had to take mandatory stage fighting lessons for drama. Of course, perhaps the fact that those classes focused on the actual acting portion meant that it probably meant nothing now. 

Well, no better time to learn than under the threat of death.

The system is, of course as you somewhat expected, relentless. It charges at you with no warning, the very sharp, very real sword almost cutting you down. Yet perhaps some kind of self-preservation instinct still is retained within you, as well as all those lessons you thought you forgot a long time ago, because you’re quick to bring your polearm up to block the attack. With a strength you thought only left for your other form, you manage to deflect it away from you as the phantom opponent backs up, at least not before stumbling forwards and narrowly avoiding another slice. 

Blocking and avoiding is all you can really do, even with your longer reach. You don’t know whether you’re even doing this efficiently, and in the span of a few seconds, you’ve only managed to get a few haphazard slashes in. Your heart pumps hard, blood rushing in your veins as you feel your chest tighten, everything burns. Your hair, now much longer and likewise loose (all for the system’s stupid aesthetics), gets in your vision but with one wrong action being the difference between life and death, you only blow it from your lips. 

As much as you want to learn as much swordplay as you can, you don’t think the stress of it all is worth it. Your only objective as outlined by the system was to defeat your opponent, not learn how to read a battle. 

Well, who needs to know how to read your opponent when they’re dead?

Backing away from another blow, you spot an opportunity. A gap exists between the chest plate and pauldrons, and while they’re distracted from a parry, you take the opportunity to bring your blade down as hard as you can. Slamming the blade through the leather straps and slicing until you feel no resistance, it grinds to a stop when the sharp blade once again gleams in the bright sunlight.

[Naginata tutorial completed. Ability tutorial loading…]

The system’s voice rings from around you once more, and within the blink of an eye, your opponent crumbles to dust. Your naginata disappears from your grasp and perhaps, or rather apparently having gained a sense of two, the system finally binds up your hair in a ponytail. 

Very much unlike the extremely stress inducing sword tutorial, this one just feels a bit annoying. Sure, you had more detailed objectives to complete, like ‘make a small storm’ or ‘cause thunder to strike this tree’ or even ‘start a flood’, but in all honesty, it was more similar to flight than naginata training. Intent was the key, the thought of making and desire to conjure was all that it took. 

Perhaps to a less imaginative person, this tutorial would’ve posed some kind of challenge. Yet you had to admit, the system did understand structuring and so you breezed past this one far easier than that stupid naginata tutorial (okay you did understand why a naginata, you just didn’t understand why you needed combat training in the first place). 

Or at least you thought you did until the system decided to set a whole forest aflame and just happily jingled a:

[Put out the fire (o･ω･o)]

If this damned AI had a body, you’d be throttling it right about now. 

Even if your environment was stimulated, the system was very meticulous in immersion seeing as it was sweltering to the point that you could feel your sweat pool at the bottom of your feet. It felt like one wrong move and you’d set your own damn hair on fire, and with how much smoke it conjured, you did not like your odds. 

Still, with a surge, you drift above the trees and hold your breath steady. Such a large forest decimated by a simple flame, every tree set ablaze as the entirety of your vision beheld blazing hell. 

Taking in a deep breath, though marred with smoke and ash, you call upon the rains and winds of the high heavens, muttering beneath your breath. A storm capable of bringing heavy storm clouds together, capable of creating such cold winds that it snuffs the heat it needs to spread. You can do that, of course you can, you didn’t die just to be the world’s most stupid ryu. Faster, faster and faster, you bring together heavier and heavier clouds until you feel your lungs cry for breath, until your vision strains to make out anything beyond hazy fumes, feeling the winds swirl around you in assailing gusts. 

The winds picks up as it slowly roars to life, rushing the edges of the forest as ash and leaves rise with its ascent. Above you, dark clouds heavy with rain gather along the amassing gales. As your storm brews and smothers the raging fire with sheets of pelting rain, you think you see it dim. Though your light zephyr only works to contain it, it is the heavy storm clouds that eventually put it out, pouring rain onto the destruction with nary a care. The droplets rush down with an odd fury, deafening against your ears as hot steam clouds your vision. 

Panting, it feels as though your airways burn with embers, congested with ash as you feel scales spread across your body once more. Your chest rises and falls, throat desperately gulping in air as though ceaselessly thirsty. You don’t understand why until you notice the rapidly approaching ground, bottom half desperately shifting in an attempt to rise up. 

Oxygen truly is still the most important aspect of life, even for a ryu. 

Your body hits the ground far lighter than you expected, attributed to the slower falling, but that doesn’t mean you don’t feel the pounding agony that hits you when you do. Bones slamming against your skin as even your brain crashes against your skull, the pain only lasts a second but the impact doesn’t. It's like a truck ran into you full force but you have no proof beyond your mind reeling from the hit. 

[Ability  tutorial completed. Revision tutorial loading…]

[Please finish all objectives listed.]

[System has healed all injuries from previous tutorial, please continue swiftly (* ^ ω ^)]

It still sounds too loud, to hell with the damned ‘healed all injuries’. 

You don’t even want to talk about this section. If you thought the ability tutorial was boring, this one was more so. This was actual studying, actual reading and actual practice, it was refining all of your prior tutorials into something beyond cursory experience. Shifting only the bottom half of your body or your hands, forcing rivers to cut into precise winds and turns, actually learning how to use your naginata in a way that wasn’t carelessly slashing, the system made sure to drill every minute possibility and detail into your head until you could live up to the true image of a proper ryu. 

It's not anything too difficult after the actual shit-show you just ran through. 

With a sigh, you tick off the last of your objectives and the system chimes in with a joyful ding. 

[Revision tutorial completed. All tutorials completed.]

Finally, you’re brought back to your starting void with nothing but the blue interface in front of you. Wording in white text and a white bar makes a steady process, your eyes follow along the rising percentage. 

[Character profile loading…]

Then, as it reaches the end and the little digits hit 100%, a new pop-up appears before you. 

[Host Space Occupied!!! User Transmigration Failed!!!]

[Host Space Occupied!!! User Transmigration Failed!!!]

[Host Space Occupied!!! User Transmigration Failed!!!]

A loud alarm blares through your head as all windows close down, instead this newer one appears much smaller than its predecessors before disappearing just as fast as it appeared. 

[Activating protocol 6453.]

[Access granted: relocation loading…]

A new bar loads up, a new percentage to watch with apprehension in your veins. It said that your space in this supposed world you were meant to be in was occupied, what the hell kind of world were you going to be dropped into now? You only hope it's not one as cut-throat as the one you were seemingly being prepared for, seeing as the system tried to kill you at least thrice. 

The system pulls up a new, larger tab with only two details shown. 

[User 888 name: Yoshikawa (y/n). 

User 888 role: NPC

Starter Location: Sekoto Peak]

Sekoto Peak… Why did that sound familiar? Well, at the very least, you were still an NPC. 

[Character profile loading…]

[Preparation of host body completed. Sending User 888 into role of NPC in My Hero Academia.]

‘Wait! My Hero??? System!’

[We hope user will enjoy your new life! (๑>◡<๑)]

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Let it be known that when you were alive, you only had a sparse inkling towards My Hero Academia. It was not that you never enjoyed the show, but rather that you were mildly interested in it during the show’s conception only to be turned away due to all the, let’s just say it, shame associated. So you only really kept up with it in your peripherals, that is until Season 7 got animated. 

Now it is very important to note that at the time this was happening, you weren’t exactly in the best place mentally, due to some fault of your own. So you were turning to a lot of characters that were older and displayed a more mentor-like demeanour, which might be a different issue altogether but hey you were a different person now, maybe you’ll have different issues. 

Alas, under the guidance of an incidental glance of a certain character, you had found yourself tumbling headfirst back into those old feelings. The only problem? 

You just had to fixate so heavily on arguably the one character that has a certain reputation among the fans. Now, you weren’t claiming anything, but you’re glad that upon your return, this reputation has softened and aligned with the canonical depiction. 

Regardless, the main point was that you ended up only focusing on his background and the few things related to him. Sure, you know the very, very basic plot and some of the early plot points, none of which are in order, but you knew something at least. You’ve essentially ignored everything else in the series because let's be honest, you had other fixations that were not My Hero Academia. 

You forcibly peel your eyes open to a wooden ceiling and the sound of birdsong around you. For a moment, it's peaceful. All is good in the world, you just had a really bad dream about dying and being transmigrated, then almost dying again, and now you just had to get ready for the day. 

And then the nausea slams into you so hard you feel bile actually rise up to your airways. This might just be worse than choking to death on smoke. You close your eyes in an attempt to stop the urge to empty your insides, yet now there seems to be pounding against your skull as a side to your order of vertigo. Great, this is going so great. 

Bringing your blanket up to cover your head, you squeeze your eyes in ache as the queasiness fluctuates between mild to extreme. When that eventually passes, though it feels like months, you tentatively rise from your bed to take a step, only to tumble out and crash onto the hardwood floors. Though it doesn’t hurt as much as you thought it would, surely not when compared to your other crash landings, you cringe at the commotion. 

No one comes in to check on you, no matter the fact that your shrunken tail springs out from the abrupt pain, which only causes more things to come crashing down. You figured tails wouldn’t bode well in modern contexts. At this, you wonder whether any other part of your supposed original form remained.

You push yourself up and rush towards the closest mirror, pulling on your skin and picking over every detail on your new body. Everything is as you adjusted but with a few notable exceptions. You’ve been taken out of your traditional attire and placed in modern clothes, or more so modern pyjamas if you could even call a baggy t-shirt and shorts that. It is then that you realise that your vision isn’t the clearest, well it never was during the tutorial, but you could barely see what was on the other side of your, admittedly, large room. Amidst your panic, the system chimes in. 

[User’s items have been morphed to fit in a modern setting (´ ∀ ` *)]

Turning to face your room, the system highlights your ‘morphed items’ with a blue box surrounding them as well as very helpfully stating what they were. Your naginata is now the naginata mounted atop the wall that the system has dubbed a replica, a few of your original robes were now folded away into a box at the bottom of your closet and your elaborate jewellery have been changed to fit more modern aesthetics. Internally, your heart cries in joy at your shrunken collection of gold. No amount of head pain was worth the aesthetic! 

Though you put on the glasses (lest you trip and die in an even more embarrassing way), that didn’t mean that you weren’t a little worked up on all the ‘adjustments’ made without your consent. 

‘You literally debuffed me.’ With a deadpan glare, the system only lights up in response.  

[!User agreed to all conditions when agreeing to change species!]

You take in a heavy breath, suppress the urge to gripe and instead decide to walk around the house to get a feel of the outlay. The whole place appears empty and a minimalist’s dream, concrete walls painted eggshell white with no decor hung, humble wooden furniture with only the slightest embellishments as well as, of course, wooden floors. Wandering around the house, you find a simple bathroom with all the necessary amenities, a kitchen with an electric stove, an office, a guest bedroom and a patio. You take the time to memorise every part of it, as a precaution of course. There is a feature that has caught your eye however, which was the numerous photo frames bearing the same few people, an older woman with a large pair of horns sprouting from her forehead and a man with seemingly no outward deviations, a young man with the same features as the woman and large horns protruding up and out. He is always stood by a young child that grows up as you find more and more photos. This child didn’t look familiar to you, with soft pudgy cheeks, wild hair and little knobs that turn to stumps and stubby horns. You don’t want to recognise her. 

You leave the house and are immediately blasted with a cold burst of wind. On second thought, maybe you’d need a coat. After rummaging through your oddly full closet, you return and sit atop the stool on the patio, taking in the scenery around you. Bright blue skies and verdant trees dot the landscape, the city sits at the distance as the distant sounds of modern life acts as a background to the serenity of your current residence. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you finally spot a transparent little box with a microphone icon within it. Time to get some answers since you were very clearly not given any. Tapping into the box, the microphone flares as you speak. ‘System, why the fuck am in My Hero Academia?’

[User’s space was occupied by another higher priority user (/_＼)]

The system dings with an almost pitiful jingle, and though the ashamed kaomoji gave it some kind of cuteness, you would not trust it. 

[User’s relocation is meant to satisfy your desire to live a peaceful life with the added bonus of your new abilities (⁄ ⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄ ⁄)]

An incredulous look appears on your face. Who would even say that living here would be peaceful?! Send out a poll to everyone that has ever watched any form of anime and you guarantee that no one would say that this world is peaceful! Even you, someone who never fully watched or read the series could say that you wouldn’t pick this world! Why not █████████ Chronicles or even ████████ Coolheadedness?! Huh?!

‘So you send me to My Hero???’ You entreat with all the grace of a squawking seagull. 

[With user’s prowess, a peaceful life will be easy („• ֊ •„)]

Was it possible for ryu to get high blood pressure? Because if it was, you’re certain that yours must be high enough to kill a man ten times over. Rubbing your temples, you let out an exasperated huff. ‘What point of the story are we even in right now?’

[The main character ‘Midoriya Izuku’ is currently one year old.]

‘Very informational, thanks. Okay fine, how old is…..’ Your mind trails off as you try to think about any character that could give you a rough grasp on the timeline. When you fail to think of any, all you can muster is a weak, ‘...uhh’

[User’s favourite character ‘Todoroki Touya’ is currently thirteen years old ( ˙꒳​˙ )]

‘How the fuck do you know that?’

[User gave all information for scanning when you agreed to our services ( ´ ꒳ ` )]

‘I didn’t agree to shit,’ You hissed. You’d know if you’d agree to something like this (you wouldn’t, you don’t even read the terms and conditions of service), but for crying out loud, you weren’t shown anything even remotely similar when you were in that dark void called limbo!

Eyeing the system’s window, you gesture for it to provide some kind of elaboration, at first with a raised brow then resorting to physically using your hands to encourage it. Of course, you’re not given any kind of response. 

You roll your eyes, ‘Very mature of you.’

You close the window as well as your lids, the early onset of a headache creeping up on you. Peaceful life, this might just be the least peaceful moment you’ve had in all your years of life. A heavy breath escapes you, and though you swear you could feel your head throbbing in anticipation, you open your eyes to see another goddamn window. 

[Profile updated.]

With a swipe, another window appears, much longer than the previous. 

[Character: Yoshikawa (y/n)

Role: NPC

Status: Ryu of Sekoto Peak

Current Location: Sekoto Peak

Objectives: Support the plot ]

How creative. You get it, you’re a ryu and your surname is auspicious river because you’re an auspicious water related being, but isn’t this a bit too obvious?

No matter, you instead zero-in on your role as assigned by the system. Just as you liked it, though you did have some reservations. While the objective ‘support the plot’ is rather vague seeing as the plot is all but a zygote right now, you needed to know how far you could change things without the system slapping you with penalties. If it could do that (it probably can). 

Tapping on the chat box again, you hum, ‘As an NPC, can I affect the plot?’

Yet before the system could give you a vague answer, you rush to clarify yourself, ‘What I mean is, say I- I don’t know…’ It takes you a few moments to think of a character both integral to the main plot as well as one that’s alive, ‘Say I kidnap Shimura Tenko, can I do that?’

As though giving up on attempting to convince you otherwise, especially upon your now pointed stare, the system only dejectedly dings, [Since user does not technically belong to this world nor inhabit the body of an important character, you are free to override canon. (￣ヘ￣)]

That’s what you like to hear. 

With that confirmation as well as the extra details of your being on Sekoto Peak, your sheer ability and the fact that Touya is currently thirteen, you could enact the very scheme of your dreams. To hell with ‘Support the plot’ or your NPC role! You know what you have to do, you have no choice. 

[User does not have to do this (＃＞＜)]

You must, there is no other choice. You were going to either fight Endeavour for custody or actually fight him, both works. Whatever happens, you’re getting Rei the absolute hell out of that house. You just had to figure out a way that required the least amount of trauma inflicted onto everyone else. 

You have time, and you’ll want to think of some kind of game plan before throwing accusations around. 

As you look towards the forests before you, you take a tentative look back to the house you just left. A new thought comes to mind. It looked a bit older, more traditional architecture and had a small shrine right outside the patio. You readily assume that you live alone, completely and utterly especially when considering both location and circumstance. Though you did wonder, how exactly did you even own property? Most transmigrators transmigrate into families, don’t they? 

Prodding the system once more, you glance towards the house, ‘How do I even have this place?’

[As compensation for the issues, User 888 has been given a comprehensive backstory and hefty compensation to ensure a peaceful life (๑˘︶˘๑)]

It brings up what is practically a wall of text with the title of ‘Backstory’. The words are microscopic and you have to squint just to read. Scanning over the window, you blithely take in your information. The usual born from an egg, raised among the mountains and trained as the youngest child of the Yoshikawa family. Nothing new there. As you continue reading, your eyes widen comically and you need to take a double-take when you reach the second paragraph.

[The Yoshikawa family, as currently lead by the 15th head Yoshikawa Hiroomi, claims to be the descendents from heavenly descended ryu, as reflected with the strong line of ryu related quirks within the small branch. Unlike most quirks wherein such consistent census would require quirk marriages or inbreeding, it appears that the Yoshikawa family’s genetics override those of the partners, regardless of gender and therefore always results in children bearing the ryu quirk. 

Originally appearing at the start of the 18th century, the family got their start in investing due to squirrelled away wealth and treasures, continuing to make stakes that would hold out in the future. Eventually, Yoshikawa Hirokuni, the founder of Toyotama Ent. made the fortuitous decision to enter the consultancy and accountancy sector, making full use of the prodigious history of his family’s background to encourage clients while maintaining a high roster due to the founder’s strict calibre. 

Due to the future-proof business, even with the rise of quirks, the 12th head, Yoshikawa Hirotsugu maintained the level of affluence enjoyed by the previous generations but sought to expand their reach towards other industries. Hirotsugu took to the ever growing rise of vigilantes and early heroes, extending their consultancy and accountancy services towards non-financial takes. 

With their considerable share in the market as well as infamous appearance, the Yoshikawa family often trains their eldest next of kin for the inevitable take over for the company, though it appears that all children are involved in some form of training, which range from quirk training, weapon training and extensive areas of education. 

The 14th head Yoshikawa Hiroyo handed the company to her eldest Yoshikawa Hiroomi when the young man was 21, having led Toyotama Ent. for the better of 50 years. Spending most of his time away on business trips, even catching a sight of the young leader is a miracle. The second child, twelve years the eldest junior, appeared to have no interest in the business despite her role as possible locum, now leading a private life away from the family’s politics. The family was adamant that this sibling is not to be involved in public matters, a notion that Hiroomi has taken seriously as it is now publicly unknown as to whether the youngest resides within the nation. Despite this, the eldest takes to sending money to the youngest as per their parents’ wishes. 

Hiroyo and her husband have since disappeared from the public eye, though Hiroomi has stated that his parents have merely retired. However, there have been baseless rumours that the 14th head of the family alongside her husband have returned back to their family’s ancestors’ homeland.]

A few gears turn in response to this, perhaps an attempt at mental gymnastics by the monkey living in your head, unfortunately for the both of you, that monkey isn’t particularly agile. There is only one conclusion to this absolute dumpster fire of a backstory, and it is one that makes zero sense according to both the lore of My Hero Academia and the whole idea of genetics in general. That was ignoring the glaring plot holes in such a backstory, if you could even suppress that.

‘Thanks for the absolute info-dump,’ You huff, crossing your arms and rolling your eyes. With an over-exaggerated gesture, you make the absolutely impressive assumption with your clues, ‘I assume I’m that second child?’

[Correct ! (≧◡≦)]

‘I’m a fucking overpowered character with the backstory of an overbearing CEO. I might as well just go off All for One now.’ Rolling your eyes, your snark is not exactly appreciated by the system. 

[User’s desire for a peaceful life as well as the circumstances of the transmigration has made it so this was the best course of backstory (￣ω￣)]

‘And you literally turned me back human?! I was promised a change from that!’

[User only appears human, all members of the Yoshikawa family are still ryu ( ´ ▿ ` )]

A very, very loud and overexaggerated sigh escapes you. Well, time to see whether you’d have to return to school or not.  

‘How old am I?’ You pose the question tentatively, almost afraid to actually hear how old you were supposed to be. 

[User has spent 78 years for completion of all tutorials, but host is currently 18 (＾▽＾)]

78 years? 18 years old? You spent that long learning how to fucking make it rain?! Besides that, which wasn’t important! With the way everything was unfolding, you were half certain this body wasn’t even your own. Did this body of yours have a life before yours? If you really were an ‘original character’, surely you’d have some kind of control over your backstory?! 

Holding your hand up, you scramble to speak, ‘Did my body’s original owner–’

[!Incorrect! User’s host body has been custom made for user and did not exist prior to user’s transmigration.]

‘So you just changed history and inserted memories into everyone’s heads so my existence is justified?’

[Correct! (o´▽`o)]

That’s actually terrifying. The connotations of which are no less. Maybe you didn’t want to be picking fights with the system after all. 

On a side note, you’re pretty sure trying to romance any character would mean exposing yourself as this supposedly ‘hidden’ second sibling. Welp, you can’t say you didn’t try but sorry readers, this old woman is going to spend the rest of her days alone. Ah, you can already see yourself on a rocking chair crocheting shitty scarves. 

[User can hide away any physical attributes with certain garments, so rest assured ∠( ᐛ 」∠)_]

‘Sure I can! Like horns shooting out of my forehead will fit in any hat,’ You throw your hands up in frustration, then shove your finger into the blue window with a pointed misgiving, ‘And don’t read my thoughts!’

At least you had more than enough money to live out your life as well as enact whatever bullshit plan that’ll turn you from NPC to supporting character. Stupid system, you weren’t going to be wearing any shitty hat just to toss it off minutes later. Well, you supposed that if you tried your hand at romancing an even bigger deal, surely there’d be more attention on them, right? Besides, people wouldn’t even know what you look like so you could theoretically try to talk up All Might…

[User is still a teenager o(>< )o]

Out of curiosity, you think back to that old world you were supposed to be transmigrated to. If you were made as powerful as you are now (a notion you had no doubt off since you had no actual drawbacks on your abilities nor a stigma against actual murder), what kind of role were you supposed to play? 

As the sun sets, you glance at the blue window. 

‘Hey system, what was my role in that previous world you booted me out of?’ 

[User was meant to be an unnamed ryu living amongst the heavens as a minor rain god alongside their more important elder sibling, who would eventually join the main character’s conquest. User’s NPC role and status made it so you would remain unassailable to the main character’s journey of bloody vengeance (´ ∀ ` *)]

You suppress a shudder, the fact that you only just escaped death by not only being a god but also your NPC status said lots about what kind of world you would have been brought into. 

Yeah, you’d happily take My Hero Academia over whatever hell you almost went into.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Just your luck. When the system told you that Touya was thirteen, you thought you had some time to prepare. Of course, you don’t have the luxury. That would be too nice to you, and you’ve never had a pleasant moment when you’re dealing with the system and its preconceived notions of ‘entertainment’. 

While you knew, undeniably knew that the burning of Sekoto Peak would happen during the winter, you had no basis on when or even where it would all start. You weren’t the most familiar with the location as well, where each clearing was nor the lakes that dotted the land. 

In fact, you’re undergoing a planning session when your ears pick up a soft cry. It should not sound so familiar to you, but you had to admit that your fascination had caused you to all but burn every scene that had him in your mind. Not a minute later, as you’re scrambling to put on anything atop your flimsy pyjamas, the smell of smoke reaches your nose. 

Your feet skittering across the wooden floors to grab a mask, you rush out the door to the sight of a scorching forest with flames that touch the sky. Flickering amidst the winter wind, it only grows in spite as the cry of a young child echoes from below. 

The very sound instinctually causes your breath to quicken, for your tendons to stiffen and for goosebumps to prick the surface of your skin. Shifting back into your original draconic form, hovering above the ground despite your wavering nerves, if you could sweat in this form, you’d be positively dripping. You take in a deep breath and though the smoke and ash burns your lungs, you take off into the chaos. 

[!New Objective: Will to Live!]

As you soar through the skies, the plumes only intensify as it reaches your eyes. Despite the nausea and agony, you continue. You’re at the very least thankful with how much power you had in this form, even a little movement clears your vision as you scan across the burning landscape. With each surge, less of the smoke clears and though a fiery hellscape covers the dry foliage of ground, you can still hear him, can still hear the screams of agony and cry for help. Clearer than ever, ringing in your ears, you find him.

The rest of the forest didn’t matter, not now, you just needed a momentary relief to take him to safety. 

Just as you practised, you call upon rushing gales and burdened clouds, feeling pinpricks of teeming rain on your body, continuing to summon even as the smoke rises and chokes your lungs. Another, another, another, you keep convoking this heavy storm until your throat runs dry.

The hiemal winds of winter howl as it obeys your will, swarming and rushing towards the flames that ascend upon the first few moments, before being snuffed away by the unrelenting sheets of pelting rain. Engulfing the bright fires and scattering embers in their fleeting moments, your tempest rages amidst the disarray. Gales of wayward intent and clouds of thunderous bearing bend to your call, leaving behind charred trees and ceaseless ash, and the lake which saved Touya. 

Curled up into himself, that sweet child whose very existence makes your heart squeeze in hurt lies at the bottom of that dried up lake, burnt to the point of ill-recognition. You wouldn’t have even known it was him if you hadn’t known what would happen. Your long body twists and twines around nothing among ash and debris, you’re ill suited for the weather but none of it mattered. Nothing mattered compared to the life in front of you. 

A laboured exhale escapes your lips, no matter how much your lungs scream for more, you’re careful when bringing him into your hand, careful to not cause any more damage. He’s cold, frighteningly so and it scares you. You can still hear the faintest of heartbeats, he’s still alive, you thank every god you can think of that he’s still alive. You don’t have the luxury to ensure that man isn’t anywhere nearby, your mind is preoccupied on what to do next, where to go next. 

Taking off once more with another powerful surge that propels you upwards towards the cool skies, your head hurts at the very thought of thinking. You need to get him medical attention now, you can barely think and maybe the lack of oxygen really was getting to you. You shouldn’t have been so hasty, shouldn’t have inhaled so much smoke. It's clogging your airways and your nostrils burn from the ash. Your eyes burn, like a fire lit behind them but you keep them open, any little falter and you fear that he’ll be taken from this world too soon. 

In the distance, through your already blurring vision, you spot a hospital. 

Another flap, a new burn shooting through your body. Your legs feel heavy and your every bone aches as you keep him close to your chest. You can barely see, yet you continued your rush towards the building. Distantly, you hear the shock and horror of the people below, you could care less. Not now, not when you were so close. 

You crash onto the cement ground all the while holding him close, the harsh landing creating a long trough in the concrete, you force yourself to shift back while keeping the young boy in your arms. Still, you push yourself forwards as you burst into the hospital lobby. Flagging down who you think must be a nurse or doctor, a few people rush to your side when you reveal the child in your arms.

“Please… This child needs help now!” Your voice comes in a coarse rasp, each word scraping out from your throat as you struggle to breath. 

Touya is promptly taken from your grasp as he is wheeled away, you accompany him, even if every fibre of muscle in your body screams in agony and your chest heaves for air. A nurse forces you to leave him when she realises you are following along, grabbing you by the shoulders as your breaths come in short, frantic bursts. 

She sounds like she’s trying to hide her worry, poorly so, “Ma’am, calm down, do you know where his parents are?”

You just manage to speak, closing your eyes from how much they burn. 

“Please keep it private,” You exhale, holding onto her as you feel your knees buckling. “The child is the eldest Todoroki child, please…” 

“Inform his parents as soon as possible.”

You crash to the cold ground again, and the world feels like it's closing in on you, too small, too much. On instinct, your scales grow up to your neck to shield yourself from the enclosing reality, more so your legs shifting back to those talons. The vague sound of metal crashing onto the ground barely reaches your ears, too focused on keeping conscious to care about your surroundings. 

A violent cough tears through your body, hacking out sparse bits of ash and spit from your inflamed throat. You didn’t even know that was possible, and was that blood? 

Shit, you really didn’t know whether you should be feeling so dizzy. 

“Ma’am?”

Just before you closed your eyes for the last time, you reached for the chat box on the bottom left of your vision.

You wheeze out, ‘System, will he live?’

[!System cannot confirm plot points outside of canon!]

You figured. 

It would be ironic if you die like this. 

Your grasp on consciousness slips before you can even laugh. 

[!Objective Complete: Will to Live!]

You realise that for all the system’s cutesy antics, it's still an agent of the narrative, or rather an agent of ‘do it for the plot’.

Undoubtedly, you definitely inhaled a lot more smoke than you should have and you probably did some major damage to your body in the process of averting a massive plot point. Unlike your tutorial, the system can’t magically heal you of all your injuries so you’re currently stuck in your unconscious mind while the system berates you for almost killing yourself. Who cares that you technically did a good thing? Forget about that, you shouldn’t have thrown yourself into flames to save a child, you should have waited for the fire department and just twiddle your thumbs as you very clearly ignore his agonised screams. 

Because that’s what good people do. 

You rolled your eyes a few more than a dozen times in response to such a sentiment. 

Apparently, you also had broken some stupid rule you didn’t even know about during your reckless abandonment. It was stupid by all means since you were not informed about anything, nor were you going to be thinking about hiding anything when you were breathing in more carbon monoxide than oxygen. As such, you had readily accepted whatever physical torture it would put you through for your punishment, seeing as you could very easily just dissociate from the pain, until a new window popped up in front of your eyes. 

[Activating punishment protocol 1338: Relocation to canon timeline.]

[We hope User 888 enjoys this experience as reflection.] 

Before you know it, you’re hit with that burst of nausea once more, slamming into your body as you suppress the urge to vomit all over yourself. 

When you open your eyes, all you can behold is him. The same thirteen year old boy curled up at the bottom of the lake as a figure loomed above him. Charred to the point of near-death, he survived out of the pure spite of will. You can only watch as that figure, that thing called a man, reached out and took him away. As though moving beyond your will, you reach forward to grab him, keep him away. Your hand only passes through. 

“Stop that! Stay away from him you fucking coward!” You cry, your throat running raw as you claw and grab at something, anything. Your hands catch nothing, they won’t let you, they won’t let you save a child when he’s right in front of you. “You’re a coward! You hear me? Hiding behind children like a fucking coward!”

“Please! Don’t take him away! He doesn’t deserve it! He needs to apologise to his mom! He needs to see his siblings!” 

“Please… he still has so much waiting for him.”

Tripping and falling to your knees, you wade through shallow waters and wet soil as you struggle to push yourself up. Your arms strain to reach out, passing through that man’s legs uselessly. Hot tears stream down your face, you don’t know when you started, and before you are even given a moment to grieve, you’re pushed to another scene. 

Locked behind the impermanence of spirit, you’re forced to watch, to watch and never interfere. Forced to watch him insensate for those three years as his family grieved for a boy who died in more ways than one, Your eyes peeled back as that excuse of a father descends further into that spiral of abuse, his mother who acted only as a victim of her circumstances, his siblings forever changed from that single day. 

Childhood resentment is only the fuel for the hatred of adulthood, and Touya, or you suppose in this case, Dabi has more than enough. You watch, you can only watch. Blue flames constantly burn at the corners of your vision, gnarled, purple skin slowly spreading over more and more, and yet still, in your eyes, he is still that child who just wanted someone to see him. As staples and piercings only tear into scorched flesh, ripping and pulling to expose bone and teeth, you keep watching. Engulfed in raging flames, you never take your eyes away from him, until he has returned to the visage of that hurt child at the bottom of the lake. 

You keep trying to reach out in all those moments. You still tried to hold onto him like you did. 

No matter the crimes, no matter the hatred. 

You’re as much of an observer as you were all those years ago. Except, you aren’t. You aren’t watching things play out from behind a screen, you aren’t reading lines from a book. You’re right next to them, right next to people who dream like you, pray like you, love and lose like you. 

You are useless, or at the very least, stupid. As a transmigrator, is the goal not to save as many people as you could with your knowledge? What made Touya special? Did Tenko, Himiko, none of them, did none of them deserve that chance too? 

For a brief moment, your tired eyes think the system is about to push you towards the next scenario. However, when you open your eyes, you’re left in a picturesque landscape, with tall mountains and a rushing waterfall, the sounds of a lazily flowing stream is right by your ears. And when you look to your side, you find you’re not alone. Rather, a young boy stands in front of you, no older than thirteen with soft white hair and the most innocent blue eyes you’ve ever seen, thin brows and round cheeks. Dressed in a matching jacket and pants, the neutral expression and sheer grief in every inch of his being, you know who he is. 

You almost don’t recognise him at first, almost don’t want to. You don’t know whether this is even the real Touya, whether you can even trust your eyes, whether the system has decided your punishment just needed to hurt a little more.

[!New Objective: The World of the Dead!]

He sees you first, and though he doesn’t approach you, he stands his ground as his voice travels through the dark space. “Do I know you?”

“No–” You’re quick to respond, bringing your hands up to show him you weren’t any threat. “I… just thought you looked familiar.”

His shoulders don’t untense at your proclamation, continuing to look at you with thinly veiled suspicion. You suppose your appearance isn’t doing much, a woman with horns clad in heavy robes surely didn’t scream trustworthy, especially to a confused child. 

“Am I dead?” Touya asks, a bit too quiet, too impuissant for your troubles. 

It is then you notice the slight swell at the bags underneath his eyes, a flushed quality to the tip of his nose. He’d been crying, of course he had been. He must have been–be– so scared. 

Your lips pull to a tight line, not quite sure how to answer. You still don’t know whether he’s real, you find you don’t care. Forcing a slight tug to your lips, you squat down and reassure him, “No, you’re just dreaming. Soon you’ll wake up and everything will be fine.”

At this, a complicated gleam crosses his eyes as his expression shifts to that of disbelief. It would be almost cute if not for the circumstances of your situation. 

“You don’t believe me, do you?” You huff, an amused grin on your lips at the idea of what you’ve just done.

“Of course I don’t,” The boy retorts, voice pitched at an attempt at being deadpan. 

A soft breath escapes you, and though your heart pounds in your chest, you take a step forward. Then another when he doesn’t flinch away. 

“Dead or not, it's still good to tell someone everything that’s been hurting you.”

With a shrug, you tentatively meet his eyes, careful to speak without qualm, “Who knows, maybe if this really is just a dream, you’ll really wake up and find out everything is better than it was.”

Again, his nose scrunches as his eyebrows knit together, he still doesn’t believe you. You really don’t blame him, but if the system was pushing you into a quest after a punishment, surely, surely this can’t just be hallucination. It can’t be, the Touya in front of you had to be real. 

As you think of what to say, the system flashes in front of your eyes, blindingly bright in such a place. You swipe it away before returning to your situation.

[!User cannot reveal information that pertains to user’s transmigration or past life! Any leak will result in a punishment protocol!]

“Why should I tell you? I don’t know who you are.” He crosses his arms as he averts from your gaze. 

Still, you continue, lying out of your teeth as if more natural to you than breathing, “Neither do I, but an outsider perspective can help sometimes.”

The two of you remain like this until eventually, and despite your heart attempting to escape your ribs, he hazards a glance at you. It's brief, but enough for you to catch his eye and send him a squeezed eye smile, patting the soft grass with your hand. He looks away again, but slowly– hesitantly, he sits down where he’s at. 

You’re okay with that, even above the sound of flowing waters, you can hear him just fine. 

“My dad thinks I’m a failure,” He mutters into his arms, voice muffled by fabric.

As he speaks, that tinge of sorrow, grievance starts to pitch his words, “He used to train me and said I was going to be better than the number one hero All Might, but just because I started getting burned by my own quirk, he made me stop.”

“So I trained in secret to show him that I can still be a hero but he just kept ignoring me or scolding me.”

From the corners of his eyes, you think you see little crystalline tears dew on his bottom lashes, a part of you wants to reach over to wipe them away. You don’t. Instead, he’s quick to wipe them away and continue. His words are rushed, a bit muddled together as though he’s trying to get everything out in one go. Still, there’s nothing that truly, entirely reveals just exactly who his dad is. 

“And then my baby brother was born and he got what he finally wanted, so he just– acted like none of us existed. We weren’t enough for him, he made that pretty clear,” He retorts, all but spitting with that very same grievance you know they all bore at one point. 

“But I thought I was finally powerful enough for him after training for all these years, and he didn’t even come when I asked him to.”

When he finishes, you don’t immediately respond. Hearing his own words on what happened was better, you found. Perhaps not yet the same resentful malice from his possible future, but still ultimately bearing some kind of bitterness you know was just his desire for his father to see him like he once did.

You ask him whether you can move closer, and when he doesn’t refute you, you do so. 

“Do you know what I think?” Humming as you inch slightly closer so that you are now an arm’s length away. 

This was a bit hard on you too, perhaps it was selfish to think that but it was. Still, you look to him with an assuaging expression, sighing, “I think, somewhere deep down he cares for you and doesn’t want you to get hurt. Which is why he kept telling you to stop training.”

“Making the reason he wants you to give up not because he doesn’t want you to be a hero, but rather because he’s worried you’ll get yourself too hurt.”

Touya scrunches his nose again, looking back at you with an incredulous look in his eyes. 

“But why doesn’t he just say that?” His response is muttered but still not quite hiding his upset.

You press your lips into a tight line, responding as calmly as you can muster, “Adults can be weird sometimes, and sometimes they just don’t know how to say things.”

“I think you can still be a hero though, just that you need the proper support equipment first,” 

But when he looks at you with that look again, you only offer a small quirk of your lips. Your only defence?

“Every hero uses support equipment, some are just less obvious than others.”

With a soft breath, you propose a chance theory, “But I think even if you don’t become one, he’d still care for you in some off roundabout way.”

It's now that he finally meets your eyes, jaw slightly slack as his shoulders finally relax from the once rigid posture he had adopted. He never knew. He never found out until the end of his life. 

With your ribs enclosing in your chest, you pat the spot next to you, a silent offer. He accepts, moving closer so that you could now fully see him. Though he got that growth spurt, he seems so small, lost and blank. You don’t know what you can say, so you just tell him what you wish he got to hear. 

“It's not your fault, I think he’s just…” Your voice trails off, mind racing to think of something to say that doesn’t expose your actual knowledge. Eventually, you can only let out a sigh as you cobble together a vague response, “He might be dealing with a lot of things from before you were even born, and he probably never moved on, so he placed all those ugly things onto all of you.”

“It's normal, I think your dad just doesn’t know that he was hurting all of you that badly because of his own things.”

Shaking your head, your voice comes out a little weak despite your best intentions, “This isn’t an excuse though. And maybe you can get a better answer if you ask him about it honestly.”

“I don’t think he’d do that,” He mutters. 

“Then I’ll make him. Who knows? Maybe one day there’ll be a dragon at your doorstep ready to help you.”

That’s the one thing that brings out an actual huff of laughter out of him, and even if he remarks that it couldn’t happen, you still smile at his brief mirth. Touya seems to have calmed down significantly from when you first met him, finally letting that smile of his peek through. When he finally recovers from that, he seems to realise something as he turns to you with furrowed brows.

“I told you all that embarrassing stuff,” He sniffs, an aggrieved look in his eyes as he sulks, then as though realising that, goes back to pretending to be that nonchalant kid. “You have to tell me some stuff about you too.”

A soft laugh escapes you and the lies come spilling back out once more, “Well, most of the expectation was placed on my older brother but I was really young at the time, so I didn’t really understand what was going on. And honestly, I was mostly raised as a just-in-case.”

“He’s doing well now, runs the family business just fine on his own.”

“My parents were always very busy but even if I was just a spare, they always took the time to care for me,” Your voice trails off, gaze going somewhere far off. 

You didn’t actually know who Hiroomi was, who Hiroyo and her husband were, hazarding a guess to the people you saw in all those photos. These people you call family could very well despise you, and you would have no idea. The man you called your brother, you don’t know what he’s like, don’t know whether he ever saw you as competition. 

You hope you don’t meet him. 

Touya’s response pulls you out of your trance, head cocked as he looks down onto the ground. “That sounds… nice.” His voice is softer towards the end, almost whispered beneath his breath.

Another sigh escapes you, not out of ire or malice, but rather something else, something more painful. Holding out your pinky, you call for him to meet your gaze. 

“When you wake up, everything will be better, I promise you,” You whisper, words determined and firm.

You’d make sure of it, you'd give up everything to make sure that when he wakes up, everything will be so much better for him. Because that’s what you can do. You can’t fight All for One nor Himiko’s parents for custody, but you can help Touya. 

His voice is shaky, but there’s some aspect that tells you he trusts you, just a little bit. That’s enough for you. He chokes out, “Really?” 

When he looks at you with those wide eyes, you must stop yourself from keeling over and sobbing over the pure hope he holds. It isn’t just hope, you correct, it's something beyond that. 

With a smile, you keep those tears at bay as you respond, feeling his pinky intertwine yours. 

“Really.”

[!Objective Complete: The World of the Dead!]

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

The nurses attending to you tell you that it was a miracle you even regained consciousness as quick as you did when you awakened. The doctors even more so, as you had somehow inhaled so much smoke that if you had not rushed over as fast you did, you would’ve died. Albeit, they did say much of your swift recovery was attributed to your unique physiology, of which they did not fully understand. 

They also reprimanded you for immediately asking about someone else’s well being when you were still strung up to machines, so that was fun. Likewise, you were slammed with a pretty hefty fine for ‘vigilantism’, which again, what were you supposed to do? Ignore a child’s screams and twiddle your thumbs waiting for a hero? 

You could deal with that later, mentally thanking every god that your overbearing CEO-esque backstory has allowed you to ignore financial burden. 

Regardless, you were going to do good on your promise and do what every rich person does best, meddle in other people’s lives unnecessarily. So, with the very obvious destruction caused by the fires, you decided you were going to make use of that to get closer to the family. A seemingly dubious young woman just drifting through life, now revealed to be a lone youth, it was perfect to garner some kind of pity (or so you told yourself). You’d insert yourself into the picture for just long enough to sort out the main problem of this disaster, then keep yourself scarce when he finally wakes up. 

You may not know how long Touya will spend comatosed, now that you’ve fucked over the Todoroki family story, but you know who you can extort to ensure the peace. You know damn well who you’re going to extort.

When night falls, a nurse comes in with your dinner. He does the routine check-up on your vitals as well as your actual physical condition before you actually get your food, but before he can leave, you ask him about the child you brought. He doesn’t give you much information, just tells you his injuries are severe. 

In your head, you chew him out for such a vague response but externally, you only nod and absentmindedly slurp on your mystery juice. The juice that sure did taste like juice, the flavour rolling in your tongue and mixing together to form flavour. As you eat your certainly meal flavoured meal, you notice the basket of fruits sitting on the counter, a tiny little card tucked into the basket. 

When the next nurse comes in to take away your tray, you ask her whether you can visit Touya just to check on the poor kid. She tells you the same thing, that his injuries are severe and that he’s currently unconscious. No matter how much you tell her that you’re worried for him, she doesn’t budge.

You just wanted to meddle in people’s lives! Why wasn’t the universe letting you do this one thing!

By the third time you ask about him, the nurse who has probably grown tired of your consistent asking, gives up and tells you which room number he’s in. Still stuck in your hospital gown and perhaps a little embarrassed from the desperate begging, which you did not want to recount, you slipped on your slippers and set off towards his room. 

The system pings to life, you receive a new quest.

[!New Objective: The Furies!]

Reading the details, it wasn’t like you weren’t going to anyways. But it was nice to know that you could do it without the system sending you to hell again. Well, even if it did send you back there, you’d probably come back ready to nose in again.  

Still, you pad through the sterile hospital hallways, the gown catching on the scales of your thighs as you walk. The bright warm lights still hurt your eyes, just a little, but you can still see. Passing through dozens of rooms, each one with concerned family and smiling friends. Someone, anyone. 

Room number A48 is the only one, a lonely little room emitting a gentle light. There is no one inside, no one accompanying the young child.

Carefully, you slide open the door and approach the bed. His once fluffy white hair is slightly coarser now, forming a more spikier composition. Rather than the crude staples that once littered his body, it seemed the grafted skin had taken almost seamlessly, that though there was some form of divide, it would soon heal with time. His chest rises and falls in slow paces, and yet still you can barely believe the sight in front of you. 

A part of you longed to reach out and just touch him, just anything that would confirm your vision. You stop yourself, you have no right to. 

Instead, you just watch, your eyes following the ECG line as it pitches up and down. Standing just a few footsteps away, a small shiver passes down your spine and arms as you clasp your hands together. You don’t know whether your prayers mean much, but you do so anyway. You’ve never really prayed to another god other than your own, but with your current being, you think even anything would be of help. 

It's a miracle he’s still alive, you pray that he’ll receive another. 

You don’t know when you’ll have to confront Endeavour, you can only assume it’ll be soon based on the system’s timing. Yet despite your very clear hatred for his actions, you find yourself rather uneased. You’ve always been somewhat nervous when it comes to such events, you could pretend but that harsh thumping in your chest never really goes away. Tripping over your words, mispronouncing something, forgetting what you were going to say, there were ten million things that could go wrong. 

But you needed to do this. You have to, you must if you want to protect them. 

You try to become that second child, that youngest of the Yoshikawa family in an attempt to picture the image of cool composure. Squaring your shoulders, you force your breathing to steady as you press your hands together for some warmth, anything to stop that quiver. That voice you have always used for speeches sits heavy on your tongue, lodging in your throat ready for your initiative. The change comes to you easy but you don’t know how long it’ll last, your only hope is that it will. 

The room door slides open, and you don’t even have to turn around to know who it is. The heavy footsteps and the even heavier pressure in the atmosphere, your objective’s target was here. 

You don’t turn your head, pointedly keeping your eyes lowered onto Touya’s resting form. He stands besides you, almost dwarfing you in height alone. Taking a curt glance towards him, a huff escapes you. 

“You know, my place almost burned down,” You hum, tone all too indifferent for someone who has seemingly gone through hell. 

“I’m glad it didn’t,” With a sigh, you turn to meet his slightly widened eyes. “I wouldn’t know what to do if it actually did.”

Clearly taken off guard, the man doesn’t answer, merely staring at you. You don’t even know whether he knows who you are, for all that it was worth, you could just be a random stranger hovering over his son like a creep. Still, you don’t falter, a tempest of deception already brewing in your head and all but spilling from your lips. 

“Did they even tell you how he got here?” You murmur, keeping your voice soft as the hour grows late. 

Endeavour takes a moment to answer, perhaps still not quite processing your words. When he does eventually find his voice, it's gruff despite the lowered volume, “They did, I didn’t think you’d be up so quickly.”

A huff of amusement escapes you, “That’s what they said too.”

Another period of silence descends, with the both of you alternating between looking at the ground, the heartbeat monitor, Touya, anywhere but each other. This isn’t the Endeavour you were expecting, grieving yes, but not borderline ungainly such as this. Still, no matter how much you’d quite like to slap some sense into him, you keep your mouth shut and wait for him to say something. 

“How did you know he’s my eldest son?” He asks, all but demands if not for the low volume.

You shrug, “Just guessed he was.”

“I’d hear him training and all the things he’d say,” With a wry quirk of your lips, you keep your eyes lowered. 

“Made the connection pretty early on.”

As though commenting on the weather, you merely continued on. You could be much crueller with this rencounter, and in the end perhaps some kind of lesson would be learned, but you wanted him to understand the gravity of his actions through his own processes, not through aggression. That wasn’t how this tragedy needs to be solved, not what’s needed. 

A small huff escapes you, your shoulders shrink ever so slightly as you mutter, “Y’ know I heard him crying before the fire started.”

“Children don’t normally cry like that if everything is fine in their homelife.”

“I don’t want to judge but...” You were definitely judging him.

“It's hard not to.”

For the first time, you meet his eyes. You don’t know why you were nervous, the man beside you is just as scared as the child on the bed. He may not show it, but in those eyes you see it all. Deep down, there was still some care for his children, some fragment of affection for his family. It all just got shoved down in favour of some lofty goal. 

“Who are you to judge?” Endeavour retorts, a stern quality now taking to his form. 

“What happens in my family isn’t your business.”

“You’re right,” You laugh, sending him a droll glance. With a bite in your voice, a soft breath escapes you, “But imposing your ideals on your children, then abandoning them when they fail, isn’t exactly the most virtuous.”

At this sudden reveal, the older man seems to finally realise that you aren’t just some random stranger, some blissfully ignorant civilian. You blink for the first time in a while, coating your dry eyes as you continue to stare at him. The consistent beeping of the ECG machine is all that surrounds the two of you, no other sound beyond the night wind. 

After a choked silence, he manages a response, “How do you know that…?” 

“Do you think I just passively absorb whatever a hurt child has been saying when he trains?” With scrunched brows, a tinge of actual, genuine hurt leaks out. 

You know he’s hurt from this, what kind of decent parent could not be? But how could that even compare to everything his own child had experienced, the possibility of a fate worse than this? How could a moment of vulnerability not force out some modicum of your true emotions? How could you bear to watch an entire family almost broken apart for just one man’s ideals and maintain your cool? 

No matter how much you could try, you can’t quite keep up the cool and aloof facade. You were never good at it, and perhaps you’re just far better at playing the hurt child than young mistress, far better at playing the volatile dragon than the austere god. 

“I never approached, but I’ve heard things, seen the way he treats himself,” Your voice comes out in a murmur, you only shake your head as your hair sways along the movement. 

“Do you actually care for them? Do they know it?” Unblinking, you bore into him as scales travel up your waist, “Because if they did, I doubt that one would burst into such raging flames from your inattention.”

“Imagine if I had not been there, would you be able to live with yourself?”

He knows what you’re implying, and both of you very well know what would have happened if Touya had been left in that lake. A flame of over 2,000 celsius would have very well incinerated him to dust, your quick action was the only thing that changed that tragic course. Of course, he didn’t need to know that his son would have actually ended up descending into a spiral of dissolution, that would be too much. You were not that cruel.

The ECG monitor spikes for just a moment, returning to its usual rhythmic beeping when neither of you speak. Endeavour can barely meet your eyes, and you him. The hard set in his jaw contrasted by what can only be described as dolour, yours tight from restraint. Too stubborn, too prideful, an unstoppable force and immovable object are bound to clash.

A few more moments of tense silence pass, and though you’re the first to relent, averting your gaze ever so slightly and letting out a soft breath, he speaks. 

“He was so young… I didn’t know whether he’d understand and he’s always been so disciplined.” He murmurs, “I thought if I just told him to stop, he would eventually get it.”

It spikes again. 

You sigh, perhaps a bit tired, “A child is still a child, and if you don’t explain to them directly, they won’t get it. You need to explain to him outright that you’re not angry or disappointed, but you’re worried for him.”

“I think you’ve let your own shortcomings affect him too much, and he’s associated too much of his worth to your perception of him, it ruined him,” your voice dips to below a whisper, that idea of him ruins you all the same. That image of him burnt at the bottom of the lake, burnt, burnt, burnt. 

“I’m not just talking about Touya, but the rest of your family too.”

Maybe you’ve talked too much, maybe you’ve been too cruel to spring this onto him when the wound is still so raw, but you couldn’t care less, not now. You can do something, and if your words end up being nothing but the wind by his ears, then you’ll take matters into your own hands. 

Bringing your arms closer into your, that shiver you were expecting rushes through you. A hand reaches out towards the boy, but quickly retracts, another sigh escapes you, “Your lofty ideals have destroyed your possibility of a family, but it could’ve been worse.”

“You still have a chance to change everything for the better, will you take it?”

Endeavour’s, Enji’s, eyes meet yours, and you hope through this one moment of understanding that he’ll come to learn from his mistakes. Your chest heaves, and you’re certain that your nurses will scold you when you return. He nods, a slight action but one nonetheless. That’s enough for you. 

With a soft sigh, you turn to leave. Your eyes drink in the sight of Touya, his heartbeat monitor still beeping in a constant rhythm, and your heart calms. Taking one last look at the older man from lowered lashes, you smile with a mournful gleam, “He’s a good child, please don’t ignore him.”

Your ears ring with a particularly loud set of beeps as you turn your back and the doors close.  

[!Objective Complete: The Furies!]

Yet when you turn to leave for your room, you come face first with a seemingly familiar person. A young man dressed in a sleek suit with sharper features and a prodigious pair of horns extending from his forehead, long hair bound in what was likely once a neat braid now dishevelled. Beneath the warm bright lighting, the lines on his face seemed deeper than what it must truly be, only magnified by the thin frames atop his nose. The moment he sees you, an expression of pure irk twists his refined features as he all but marches towards you. 

There’s no one else in the hallway, why was there no one else in the hallway? You can only stand there in fear and mild confusion, feet rooted to the ground even when he grabs you by the shoulders and shakes. This must be Hiroomi, it has to be. 

His lips are pulled back to reveal sharp teeth, sword straight brows furrowed as he hisses, “Why’re you running around when you haven’t recovered yet?”

“I know you’re worried about the kid but you need to consider your own health first,” His voice is sharp, unforgiving and perhaps if you weren’t who you were, his grip on your shoulders would have actually hurt.

“Do you know how worried I was when I saw the news? I had to book the first flight back. They kept telling me how severe your injuries were and now you’re just up and about.”

When you don’t respond, still a bit too dumbfounded that he would actually come find you, he lets out a breath and loosens his grip. Nonetheless, the hardness in his brow doesn’t leave. Pressing his tongue into his cheek, his chest heaves heavy as he closes his eyes. 

Hiroomi shakes his head, muttering, “Never mind, come on, you shouldn’t be up and about so late.”

“I’m eighteen,” You dumbly blurted out.

A huff of amusement leaves him, acerbic gaze glancing at you as he drags you back to your room. “Age doesn’t matter when you throw yourself into a raging fire.”

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Three years pass and you’re certain that he’ll awaken soon. In said three years, you have somehow been inducted into the Todoroki  family as a pseudo-counselor, or rather that’s the best way you can describe your role. You didn’t even intend for this to happen, it was like you got adopted without your consent. 

Hiroomi does not know this, you intend to keep it that way. 

Really, you’ve just been showing up at odd hours ready to make sure that your words actually had some kind of effect. It wasn’t as if you were prowling outside their doors like some kind of creep, you did make an agreement with Endeavour and even Rei when you got to meet her, but you’ve been enjoying your immense level of freedom recently. Which unfortunately meant that your visits were never the most planned. 

You vaguely remember the first time you showed up, having taken public transport and showing up exactly when a certain someone was at the door. You just stood behind him for some reason, effectively giving him what must have been the heart attack of his life when he finally noticed you, or the second heart attack of his life. You weren’t keeping count, you didn’t particularly care. 

Regardless, while the children did take some time to warm up to you, it didn’t take long until you had a very curious six year old constantly wanting to touch your horns, as well as a nine year old and thirteen year old very interested in the ‘new lady terrorising dad’. You don’t know why they knew that word at those ages, and frankly, although impressed, you were kinda scared that they did. 

Fuyumi and Natsuo were and are absolutely lovely children, but knowing that some of their mannerisms and behaviours were a product of a troubled household, you didn’t know how to feel. And since you’d been transmigrated so late, you couldn’t prevent Shouto from receiving his burn. This entire family was perfectly engineered for maximum heartache, you can only thank the system for letting you be such a busybody. 

Still, you tried your best to be a good role model to all of them. Which largely entailed acting as a chaperone every time their father wanted to train the youngest, bringing Shouto to play with the rest of his siblings whilst ensuring that he could engage in extra-curricular activities to help with his social skills, encouraging family time through slow and deliberate implementations. You have the children write letters to Rei, promising each and every one of them to deliver them to her yourself, and when you do return with her responses, their elated expressions are all that you need for the rest of the week. 

Similarly, you suggest therapy and if not, then at least writing out what they felt. 

After which, you split your time between visiting their mother in the psychiatric ward and Touya back in the hospital.  And still, you keep most, if not all interactions with Endeavour curt. That doesn’t mean that you don’t notice his slow progress, which is still progress at the end of the day. Every time you visit Rei, you find a vase of her favourite flowers somewhere, while the rest of the children have become a little more open to their father. Natsuo and Shouto are still apprehensive, you don’t blame them, you’re just glad they can somewhat tolerate his presence for now. 

It's almost impressive how fast everything is healing over and you still have no idea how that came to be. Rather, it would be more accurate to say that you have no idea how everything is going as well as it is now but you’re not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, so you take it in stride. 

You aren’t sure when Touya will wake up, but you hope that when he does, he’ll be surrounded by the family he deserves. 

With a coat wrapped around you, walking through an almost familiar sterile hallway, you arrive at a familiar room and bring your hand up to knock. Before you can do so, a woman’s soft voice calls for you to come in. Bathed in soft autumn sunlight, Rei is preoccupied with a book. Her softer features, ones you have seen moulded upon her children, are relaxed, and when she smiles at your arrival, you respond with one of your own. The older woman urges you in, and you do so readily. 

“Rei-san, I brought fruits,” You hum, reaching into the plastic bags hanging off your elbows to reveal a few containers of cut peaches (she had let it slip that she was partial to them one autumn). 

A small breath of amusement escapes her when you busy yourself with rearranging the containers, and though her voice is still quite soft, you manage to catch her words, “Thank you.”

When you finish, you grab a chair and sit with her, a cup of tea already served and waiting for your hands. Joining her in watching the birds sing from the window, the two of you sit in comfortable silence. You haven’t yet managed to broach the topic of his awakening to Rei, and though there was some doubt that he would, his doctor had been very positive that he would. Something deep down, some part of you that you aren’t sure is human tells you the same. 

Bringing your cup to your lips, you take a cursory sip before mumbling, “You should go see Touya when he wakes up, I’m sure he’d love to see you.”

“I’ll pick up Fuyumi and the rest of them so they can go with you.”

The older woman looks to you, a kind of delicate resolution in her grey eyes. One you don’t quite like right now. 

“Will you join?” She asks, her voice lined with a hopeful lilt.  

Your immediate expression just so unfortunately has to be forlorn, didn’t it? You’d come to accept your soon approaching retirement from the Todoroki family’s lives, or perhaps more like waning appearances, with the possibility of Touya’s awakening coming ever closer. It wasn’t as if you wanted to abandon them, but you had come to the conclusion that soon, it should just be the six of them. 

You just so happened to be the one that helped it get back on the right track, that was all to it. After all, you were just a dream. Your role will soon be over, and you’ll get your peaceful life before you know it. 

Shrugging your shoulders, your brows furrow together as you meet her eyes, “Maybe, but wouldn’t it be kinda intrusive?” 

“Of course not,” Rei is quick to quell your doubts, “You’re practically family.”

“He doesn’t know who I am.” You propose. Surely, surely this would be a valid doubt. No child wants to see a random stranger when they wake up from a coma. 

She gently insists, easily turning your prior statement back onto you, “Then, I’m sure he’ll want to meet the person who saved him.”

All your energy just deflates, and you can only hang your head and acquiesce. You never really could argue with her in the end, not when she’s clearly far better at picking apart your flimsy excuses. With a weak laugh, you avert your gaze.  

“Maybe at a different time.” 

At this, the conversation returns to that silence from a few moments ago, tinged with a tension that did not previously exist. Still, it's not one that stifles but rather lingers at the back of your mind, merely a thoughtless element. The two of you continue in this pleasant silence, with the occasional sip of tea or your eventual offer of fruit. As you bring over two forks, your mind suddenly brings up the project you’ve been working on. 

“Rei-san.” You call for her momentary attention, digging through your bag for a set of papers to show her. 

When you finally find the correct file, you hand it over to her as you watch her flip through the pages with a nervous ball of your fist. Inside the plastic portfolio was a set of places that differed from landed housing to apartments, something you could put together with your new time and resources. You thought about a bunch of different factors but ultimately, you felt like you couldn’t quite trust just your insight. 

As though awaiting judgement, you confess, “I thought about getting you a place if you still didn’t feel comfortable living with your husband when you get out, but I wasn’t sure.”

She runs a hand down a certain page, one you recognise having a garden. The woman continues to look through everything you have to offer, but when she reaches the last section, the one you thought she’d like most, she stops. There was a simple fondness in her eyes, and when she now meets your timid gaze, it only seems to grow.  

“Whatever you think is best, I think I’ll like, I’m sure of it.”

A smile pulls at your lips as a soft sigh escapes you. “That’s great but you still gotta tell me.”

Rei laughs, and you find the sound to be nothing but sonorous. You wonder whether she’ll continue to laugh like this when you eventually leave. 

Eventually, the call that Touya has awakened comes. The news comes on a weekday while the children are at school, and you keep true to your promise. Their mother had only just recently arrived per your own confirmation, so now you merely wait outside the hospital, waiting for a familiar car to pull up.

Your eyes scan across the crowd, darting between your surroundings and your watch. It's only when you hear a very loud call of your name from a certain boyish voice that you know that they’re here. In the distance, you spot three silhouettes coming ever closer. 

With a wide smile, you wave at the three children as they rush towards you as best they can, with Fuyumi trying to make sure Shouto doesn’t fall over himself in his scurry while Natsuo watches over the two of them. When they do reach you, your hand ruffles Shouto’s hair as you greet Fuyumi, holding out your hand for Natsuo to hold as the youngest happily swings his sister’s and yours.

“Come on, your mom’s waiting for y’all,” You huff in amusement, your lips quirking upwards as you lead them towards that room. 

You’ve long since grown familiar with the format of this hospital wing, if not for your own checkups then for you near daily visits. For once, there’s little chatter to distract you from your thoughts, the walk uncomfortably quiet yet, your head is completely clear. As if nothing could possibly marr your existence at this very moment, living in the present and for once, you can distinctly note how the slight chill on your hands, yet warm all the same.  

Shoes squeaking against the tiles, under cool light and seated on a bench is their mother. With her hands clasped together on her lap, when she catches sight of her children, her eyes seem to soften. You only just manage to greet her, and subsequently allow the children to greet and join Rei. Before you know it, your palms are no longer cold, you don't know how you feel about it. 

The years of healing has allowed the family more than enough time, for Rei to heal and to come to terms with her actions, and for Endeavour to realise his hubris before it costs him everything. It has allowed for Shouto who undeniably adores his mother this new happier fate, has allowed for Natsuo to gain the parents he never truly had in that world, has allowed Fuyumi some semblance of that distant past she thought lost.  

These years will allow Touya everything he would have lost in that crueller, harsher world. He will wake up and everything will be better. 

A nurse slides open the door to let the family in, presumably explaining the eldest’s condition based on her expression. You don’t join them, retreating to stand by the hallways walls as you watch them. With your focus so inherently placed onto the nurse and the few that remain inside, you’re scarce to notice a child standing in front of you, a small hand pulling on your coat for your attention. 

“Aren’t you joining us?” The youngest asks innocently, wide eyed and curious. 

Crouching down, you put on a gentler expression as you speak, “Your older brother will want to see all of you.” Your hand takes his to rub a thumb over his knuckles, and you don’t ignore how he tries to catch your hand to hold onto it,  “I’ll just wait outside, okay?”

He only scrunches his nose before murmuring, “Okay…”

Shouto seemingly accepts your explanation, and in an unlikely fashion, does not cling onto you despite his words. He scurries off to join the rest of them, perhaps realising his mother’s sudden worry over his disappearance and Fuyumi’s approach. She doesn’t ask you to join them, but something in her eyes glints with that exact same desire. You only smile, patting her head. 

As the four of them enter, you resign yourself to the rushing thoughts in your head. You’ll start retracting from their lives after today, this was the plan, no? You’d try to fix everything before he wakes up, and if you do, you’d become the occasional family friend. Perhaps you’d drop by every-so-often to make sure that everything was still going well, perhaps you’d visit during birthdays, but you never meant for any of this to go beyond three years. 

You just don’t know what you’ll do from here on out. The system has been quiet since your last quest three years ago. It hasn’t pinged to notify you of any warnings, no new quests or new messages. You have nothing. 

A set of footsteps sound from beside you, and when you turn to see who is approaching you, a soft huff escapes you. A middle-aged woman in a white coat holding a clipboard greets you before joining you by the wall. She’s tall enough that you have to look up at her whenever you speak to her, she stares down at you with lowered eyes, pin-straight hair bound in a ponytail swishing to the side. 

“Aren’t you going to go in?” Dr. Onizuka Masae hums, crimson eyes watching your expression. 

You only shake your head, “Nah, he needs his family.”

Neither of you speak, letting the rest of the world pass you by as you stand side by side. Initially, you only knew that she was your primary physician for your recovery. You thanked her when you got out of the hospital about three years ago, and sent her a basket of flowers and fruits. However, it seems that the two of you were destined to meet, as a few days later, you ran into her with her daughter in the central business district. 

Though the two of you only chatted for a while, when she had accidentally let slip that she treated both you and the eldest Todoroki child, it was as if you had another debt to fulfil to this seemingly miraculous woman. This debt was one you don’t know whether you could ever repay, not when she has let him still continue to use his quirk, let him still pursue the path he may want. You don’t know what she did, how she managed to do it, but you all but owe your life to her. 

“I never did thank you, huh?” You laughed, your head lowered. 

She looks to you with an incredulous furrow in her brow, cocking her head as her eyes narrow, “For what?”

“For saving him.”

Masae blinks, but upon noticing the determination in your eyes, shakes her head. She probably doesn’t know how much she’s done for him, and even if the rest of the world never learns of her brilliance, you’ll spend the rest of your days praying for her if it means repaying her great deed. 

“I didn’t do anything special,” She breathes, a sardonic bite to her velvety voice.  “I’m just doing what I should have.”

From your bag, your fingers brush against a soft, plush surface. You pull out the stuffed animal and offer it to her, “For your daughter, I didn’t know what to get so I just got something I thought she’d like.”

She accepts the gift with a momentary wide-eyed shock, one that is quick to disappear. Masae smiles, a gentle tug across her pallid visage, “You’re a good kid, you know?”

You can hear everything in that room, you can hear quiet sobs coming from someone, everyone. You hear a voice, raspier and scratchy from disuse, apologising. You do your best to tune out such a private moment from your ears. Averting your gaze, you laugh. 

“Yeah.”

Endeavour comes to visit shortly after the rest of the family leaves. You meet up with him after sending the children and Rei off, standing ram-rod straight as the sun dips below the horizon and bathes the world in warm sunlight. He isn’t the scared and mournful man from three years ago, yet not the stubbornly hubristic fool from before. You still don’t know how to perceive him, but you’re certain that he will be kinder to his son that only wanted his acknowledgement. 

The two of you don’t exchange any words, merely striding off towards the room once more. Again, you remain outside as father and son reunite, listening for any hint of misunderstanding once more. The older man has learned from your words it seems, as for once, there’s barely any heated words nor yelling coming from an interaction between the two of them. Masae passes by you again, she doesn’t say anything when she sees you seated on the bench, merely handing you a cup of water from the nearby water fountain. 

You can only assume that all has gone well when he emerges from the room, and when you raise a brow, he only nods. Endeavour leaves shortly after that, you remain outside. Even as staff enter and exit, you remain outside. Visiting hours are soon to end and though you can already see a few nurses starting their routines, you remain outside. You don’t know why but you can’t bring yourself to move from your spot, both listening and ignoring every sound coming from within that room. 

Hunched over yourself, you hear a familiar walking rhythm approaching you. Masae has another cup of water in her hand and a vague expression on her face. She’s still in her scrubs and though her very being appears flawless, there was a weariness to her perennial features. 

“Do you want to see him?” She asks, her smooth voice uncharacteristically terse. 

You bring your hands up to deny her, scrambling to explain yourself once more, “I shouldn’t–”

“Do you want to see him?”

The doctor doesn’t let you look away, you can’t look away, forcing you to meet her gaze head on. Carmine eyes bore into you and urge you to respond, truthfully. 

You furrow your brows, and your hands instinctively reach for your bag to rise. She only huffs, already sliding the door as quietly as possible to let you in. 

Touya’s room is still just as you remember, with a pile of letters on his bedside and a few gifts his siblings insisted on picking out. The letters aren’t as neat as you remember, your hands compiling them into a tidy stack as you rearrange some of the gifts so he’d have space. 

A wide window brings in some natural moonlight onto his face, highlighting the youthful curves of his visage and the scars of his new skin. He’s still a bit skinny, not a cause for concern but still a factor that squeezes your heart. Your eyes trace his long lashes, of which have already grown back, down to the haphazard way he’s tucked in. On instinct, you reach to adjust the blanket, bringing it up to his chest. For a moment, your fingers brush against new skin, slightly rough but ultimately not the gnarled scars of that world. An odd feeling of relief fills you. 

Yet your one moment of weakness is immediately punished with his shifting. Your hand flinches away and you turn to leave upon that disturbance, your heart pounding in your chest as every part of you rushes to take fright. You’re halfway out the door when the young boy’s voice stops you right in your tracks. 

“Wait!”

His voice sounded so distraught for just a moment, you could swear you were imagining some part of it, making up a narrative to justify your unjustified worry. You think he recognises you, but you’d be stupid to get your hopes up. Yet still, you listen, turning around to face him. 

“I…” He hesitantly looks at you, as though unsure of what to say. In the end, he still manages, “Thank you, for saving me.”

“It’s nothing, I just did what anyone would.” You shake your head.

When neither of you can find the voice to speak, you find your mind still racing. You shouldn’t be here, you shouldn’t be in his room. You should have left hours ago, you should be in your bedroom getting ready to live your peaceful life. 

Your voice is soft, barely above a whisper as you speak, “You’re very strong, do you know that?”

“Get some rest, your family will be visiting tomorrow.”

“It was great meeting you, Touya,” You smile, poignant emotions of unknown origin roiling in your stomach. 

Without looking back, you leave, wiping your eyes, careful to not scratch an eyeball out and taking off into the long night as your eyes burn with stray tears. He’s alive, he’s alive, he’s alive.

He’s alive.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Not even two days into your supposed retirement, you were surprised by a call around three in the afternoon. You were just lazing around in your living room torturing your hands with tiny jump-rings when your phone started to reenact a seizure on your floor. Of course, when you looked over to check the caller ID and saw that it was Fuyumi, you immediately scurried to put on proper clothes while answering the call. 

You thought something came up, you thought she might have needed something with the timing being so close to her school release. Imagine your surprise when it wasn’t Fuyumi’s voice, but rather a very determined Shouto asking where you were. 

“Where are you?” He huffed, his indignation all but palatable through the phone, “You said you’d come visit with us today.”

You had to take a moment to think back to the past few days, you did not make any kind of promises related to that. Hesitantly, you could only mutter perplexedly, “I did?”

“You told us that you’d meet up with us to visit Touya-nii.” The boy affirmed. 

From beside him, Natsuo had seemingly come up to speak as well. “Yeah! You promised mom you’d come with us.”

At the time, you were pretty sure you could hear Fuyumi’s amused huff too. 

You were very clearly being gaslit, if they even knew what that was. The worst part of it all was that it worked. In your panic, you actually believed that you forgot and rushed over as soon as you could, haphazardly grabbing a container of fruit as a cursory gift. By the time you arrived at room A48, you were so thoroughly out of breath that it took you five minutes to regain your natural breathing as well as all but collapsing onto a chair. 

Safe to say, you got conned, real good. 

That little situation was not the only time. Trying to retreat from their lives resulted in you being gaslit into joining them. And if you thought it was just going to be the children, you were wrong. So wrong. 

A few days later when you were visiting Rei, she started talking about how the children will be freer with the upcoming holidays and how she’d like for them to spend more time outside of the house. You of course agreed, which is when everything went downhill and somehow led to you staying in the Todoroki estate for the summer. Interspersed between those were the routine visits to the ward and the hospital, which meant by the second day of this very weird situation, you realised that you weren’t just the run-of-the-mill family friend anymore. 

You could only thank every god that Endeavour was not in on this. 

Perhaps then one might think, with the youngest now being 10, you shouldn’t be here anymore, right? 

Wrong again. 

This time, it came out of your own volition. Having discussed this choice with everyone involved, you decided to return to your routine visits with Touya’s discharge a year ago. And with one less place to visit as well as the impending sense of doom gone, it was obvious that your mood has certainly improved. 

As of now, five years have passed since the incident, Rei’s departure from the psychiatric ward seems to come ever closer while you started work as a translator for some minor company. The eldest has started high school for heroics after much needed interventions, heart-to-hearts, and even bribes (you weren’t proud of this one), with support equipment having been made much earlier as well as the consultation of Dr. Onizuka. 

Regardless, with autumn having befall the earth once more and your days a lot more free, you had decided to take a trip to the city as a little treat for all your hard work. And also because Hiroomi was finally back in the country and he forced you to meet up with him under the premise that he— and you apparently– need to pick up some new coats for the coming winter. 

Swirling a mug of tea he was offered, he keeps his eyes on the passing pedestrians, large horns just barely covered by the store window’s curtains. Contrary to belief, due of the draconic nature of both your identities, colder weather did in fact affect Hiroomi more than he would like to admit, which meant that though he was attempting to be the aloof and unbothered CEO that he was, the fact that he’s desperately clinging onto his cup said a lot. 

In the cosey little tailors, your brother takes a sip. There was something about his current face that you had no other way to describe it beyond, ‘bitter mother-in-law’. Rather than even looking in your general direction, he remained focused on the sparse cars driving by.

He speaks, practised and controlled, “It's good that you’ve found a job you like, but don’t you think you should stop meddling with some random family’s lives?”

“Unless you wanted to be the one to convince Endeavour to go to therapy, I don’t think you should be allowed to talk,” You hum in response, almost half tempted to snatch the cup out of his hands. 

“Besides, you’re never here so why does it bother you so much?”

At this, he finally deigns himself to look at you, an overexaggerated sigh accompanied with a deadpan look. 

“It bothers me because you’re sticking your nose in things that don’t involve you,” Hiroomi snarks, an acerbic note to his words

“Look, I get it,” You sigh, but as the memories of all those times come rushing back to you, your face twitches. “But I tried to back away, and do you know what happened?”

The older man looks at you, motioning with an eyebrow for you to continue. 

“The kids and their mom conned me into staying.”

The last remaining light in his eyes seems to die at this very moment, and were it not for the cup in his hand, he likely would have smacked you with all the strength he could muster. You had no doubt about it, and perhaps because of that, you only met his eyes with a blank stare. Hiroomi, strong as he is, brings a hand up to his face as his shoulders deflate. 

“You’re smarter than this,” He just manages to wheeze out. 

With a shake of your head and a pointed look, you can only rasp back, “You know I’m not.”

After this, silence seems to naturally fall, with the only sounds being the chatter and footsteps of pedestrians, as well as the rhythmic humming of a sewing machine from behind the store. There’s a soft smell of hot iron air and tea, of detergent washed fabric and gentle pine. And the voices of a few people talking, then a young boy’s voice saying he saw you…?

This does not go unheard by your elder brother, directing his attention to the source of the sound. As he squints off into the distance, his voice cants higher, “Why is there…? Why is there a group of children pointing at you?”

“What?” You turn back, and when this elicits a very enthusiastic wave from Fuyumi and Shouto, Rei likewise smiling when you notice her, you now realise were in fact what you were hearing and your jaw slacks. Your hand reaches up to his arm, as though to push him back, “Oh god.”

“You’re telling me you got cheated by an eight year old?” Hiroomi snides, clearly an appropriate time to talk about your idiocy. 

“Don’t, please don’t.”

The two of you can only watch as the youngest, and arguably still the baby of the family, drags everyone into the store. Though you hadn’t expected to run into them, you still greet each and every sibling as well as bowing to their mother, letting Shouto hold onto your hands as he presses the pads of your fingers.

With your other hand, you gesture towards the frankly, rather bewildered group. “This is my brother, Hiroomi. Hiroomi, this is the family I’ve been helping with.”

Everyone greets him, albeit perhaps still a little awkwardly. Rei still has the decorum to shake his hand when he offers it, Touya only brings his hand up for a quick wave, Fuyumi at least has the rationale to do more than just that, while Natsuo does an awkward blend of the two. The only one seemingly unaffected by this tension is again, the youngest, who merely waves and introduces himself like normal. 

“It's a pleasure to meet all of you, my sister quite enjoys your company so I hope you continue to take care of her,” He recovers quickly from the shock, bowing and speaking without noticeable cant or lilt. While that wouldn’t sound out of the ordinary, it's important to know that this was a thirty five year old man bowing to a family so deeply he might as well have accidentally stabbed one of them and apologised in response.

“Why are you acting like that?” Hissing, you send him a pointed glance. 

When he only sends you a dirty look and a raised brow, you mutter, “You’re talking like you’re meeting some business partner’s spouse.”

The elder’s face twists in displease, a brief break from his usually austere expression. Yet again he keeps his pleasant smile on as he discusses god knows what with Rei, a little bubble of agreeable badinage. You can only assume 

The tension is only broken when a little old lady emerges from the back holding two coats, handing them off to the both of you as she greets the Todoroki family, under the rightful impression that they were here for her services. 

As Hiroomi hefts on the coat, he thanks her, again bowing his head. He turns to you with a stern gleam in his eyes. “I have to go. I will update you when I’m back in the country,” With a last bow and another statement of gratitude, he steps out of the quaint store and into a car already waiting for him, one you hadn’t realised was there until now.  

Seriously, you’d think you’d already be used to the way he talks when other people are around but you aren’t. 

Before you forget, you thank the old woman, not quite as severe as your brother but still eliciting a fond laugh from her regardless. She urges you closer and suddenly places a hand on your head, patting as she starts reminiscing about you and your brother’s ‘insistent politeness’. You have to nod your head and agree and laugh at her every sentence, and it almost seems like an eternity until you’re finally let go. At least, not before you leave with a few candies in your pockets. 

Eventually, you can turn your full attention towards the somehow still waiting group, a mixture of attempted nonchalance, full blown maladroit and just plain old indifference. You have to resist the urge to laugh right there and then, instead putting on a smile that clearly screamed the opposite of everything it stood for. 

“Was that actually–?” Fuyumi asks. 

A snort of amusement escapes you, “Yeah.”

Taking a quick glance at your watch, you’re about to open your mouth to say something but you’re swiftly interrupted by Shouto pulling your hand. 

“Do you want to come with us to the aquarium?”

When he looks at you with those big eyes and innocent look, how were you supposed to deny him? Who cares that you just wanted to have a slow day and go back to sleep, certainly not you. 

It turns out, the actual reason they even managed to run into you stems from the fact that the aquarium was a few blocks down from the tailors, that and the fact that someway, somehow, someone had learned over the years to recognise the exact length of your horns from the back, thus effectively able to point out your being in the first place. Everyday you wonder whether increasing insanity might be a trait of each generation in My Hero Academia. 

When you do get there, you thank every god that has ever existed that the ticket line isn’t some hour long wait, and when Rei offers to pay for your ticket, you remember blacking out and pulling out your wallet before she could even finish her question. You don’t even know why you did that and you’re starting to think the influences of your prior life are never going to leave you at this point. 

Handing the little information pamphlet to each of them, everyone is careful to watch their step until you eventually ask about the source of the sudden trip. 

“Hey, did y’all just decide to go to the aquarium because of boredom or..?” You tentatively bring up, lifting your skirt so you could see the next step. 

Touya only takes a glance at the admittedly very excited youngest two and snorts, “Nah, Shouto said he wanted to go and got Natsuo in on it.”

“Sounds about right.”

As you walk behind the rest of them, a soft smile pulls on your lips. While Shouto is fond of all his siblings, he’s rather much fonder of his older brother. So ahead of Fuyumi and Natsuo were the two of them, the youngest was pointing at all the things he wanted to see as the oldest only grins and nods. Their mother watches over them, ahead of you and just trailing behind. 

This is what they should have had, they should have gotten to be children and bond as a proper family, you’re glad that they have that chance here. 

Looking down at the pamphlet, you absentmindedly read over the miniscule details that range from the history of the aquarium to the events that were held throughout the week. A bit unfortunate that there’d be no shows being held for today, but it wasn’t like it was the end of the world. 

When you do look up, you realise that you were now in a much larger room with wide tanks that reach the ceilings, soft blue light reflecting upon everyone in the room as a myriad of sealife drift through the crystalline waters. The rest of them have already run off somewhere and though you’d be more than a bit worried if they were any younger, it wasn’t like you were there to watch them. 

There’s a few seats situated in the middle of the large room, and by instinct, you head straight for one to enjoy the tranquil atmosphere that now surrounds you. It was remarkably quiet for an aquarium, with only a few couples and smaller families out and about, pressed to the glass and pointing at this fish or that crab. Letting out a soft sigh, you let your eyes drift along a wandering manta ray gliding through the waters, following its movements as it exposed its smiley visage towards the glass. A few younger children take note of this, pointing towards it and smiling at their parents. It did look rather silly, but silly was still cute. 

Your head rests on your hand, fingers against your cheek as you’re pulled out of your observation by the three boys calling for your attention, urging you over. When you do reach them, Shouto points at some fish, one you’re not even sure what to call, and stares at Touya with a deadly serious look in his eyes.

“That one looks like you,” He declares, finger pointed at ugliest looking fish you might have ever seen in your life. 

You don’t actually want to know what prompted this (not like you wouldn’t tell that to Hiroomi either), but clearly the elder does not take kindly to this comparison. He places his hand on his chest as an expression of pure and utter offence twists his features, eyebrows raised and jaw agape, the whole works. 

Touya meets his eyes and insists, “No it doesn’t.”

“It kinda does,” Ever helpful, Natsuo chimes in. 

Fuyumi does nothing to discourage this, merely shrugging her shoulders and snickering behind her hand. When the eldest looks at you, you have to do your best to stifle the snort that’s threatening to escape you. He gasps, a sour expression manifests on his face, as though having sucked on a lemon, snapping his head away with a dramatic huff. 

With the smuggest little grin you’ve seen on a ten year old, Shouto relishes in his victory as the rest of you finally succumb to the absurdity of the situation, chortling in Touya’s suffering while he only holds his head up in mock pique. Not even his own mother was immune to the light-hearted shenanigan, a charmed laugh escaping her lips. 

Quick to retort, he points at a similar looking fish, “Yeah and that one looks like you.”

“We’re still brothers then.” There’s a sudden heaviness now, the boy’s innocent yet unintentionally darling words having brought the teasing atmosphere to something else. Something a little more raw. No one speaks, perhaps a mixture of shock and heart ache, some kind of emotion a bit too heavy to fully speak out.

Placing a hand on his head to pat it, you point towards the two fish, gathered together in a little group of five. With a soft huff, you urge them to look where you’re pointing, “You’re all those fish.”

This brings down another moment of silence as they exchange glances. You try to meet their eyes, but when they do, you realise a certain someone is not quite like the others. 

Natsuo suddenly sends you a mordant look. “Are you saying we’re all ugly?”

You can only bring your hand to your face, not quite sure whether you want to laugh or cry as the rest of them pile onto you for your statement. 

By the time you escape your shackles of ugly fish calling, which never really ended because they all kept pointing at random animals and said some variation of ‘that’s you when you’re (insert action)’ or ‘you as a fish’, you’ve made it to the end of the exhibits and instead found your eyes straining to see in the sheer brightness of the souvenir store. 

Though you had originally planned to just look around, you noticed Natsuo squatting by a display shelf, looking at some of the smaller stuffed keychains of various animals. There’s a look of obvious conflict on his face, and when you get closer, you notice what he’s holding in his hand.

“Do you want it?” You hum.

He turns over the little plush whale shark keychain, but places it back. “Yeah.”

Squatting down near him, your hand reaches out to pick it right back, placing it in his hand as he looks at you with a vaguely wide-eyed look. 

“I’ll pay, okay? As a gift for letting me join today.”

At this, his entire face lights up as a wide smile stretches across his face. You’re suddenly dragged into a quick hug as he thanks you profusely, still holding onto the keychain as he does so. With a mirthful laugh, you pat his head and tell him that you’ll go find the rest of his siblings. 

While the other two boys take your offer with varying degrees of affirmation, Fuyumi is the one who shows some hesitation. Even if she was awfully preoccupied with the selection of tote bags they had, she still stood her ground. 

“Oh, you don’t have to,” She immediately tries to reject you. 

Taking her hands in yours, you maintain your stance, “As a treat, since all of you have been working so hard.”

Though Fuyumi still seems a bit hesitant, she eventually takes your word for it and leaves to grab something. Quite obviously, there was Natsuo’s whale shark, but Shouto came back with Fuyumi a little bit later, a small plush seal and a tote bag with jellyfish motifs in hand respectively. You also manage to find a self-watering glass globe in the shape of a seahorse, surreptitiously picking it up as a gift. 

Just before you could reach the cashier, the eldest slips to your side in the line, an acrylic shark keychain in the palm of his hand as well as, you noticed, a plush ray keychain. You don’t question it, placing down all the items as the cashier brings out the card machine, yet you’re scarce to notice Touya suddenly taking back the ray.

“Sorry, I’m paying for this one separately.” With a slight sheepish lilt to his voice, he retreats behind you. 

Still, you pay for everything with no issue and pass each and every single one of the gifts to their respective owners. Jogging over to Rei, you pull out the paper wrapped gift.

“Rei-san, this is for you.”

She’s careful to cradle it in her hands, peeling back enough of the paper to reveal the delicate craftsmanship. There’s a soft smile on her lips, “It's beautiful, thank you.”

As the rest of you patiently wait for the albino to finish his own payment, he eventually jogs out from the cashier to meet up, and as you’re about to hand him back his keychain, he presents the plush ray to you.

He insists, “It's for you, for joining us when you didn’t have to.”

Taking the keychain into your hands, the ray’s silly smile greets you as you bring it up to your face. A giddy smile pulls across your lips, and your hand reaches up to give him a pat on his shoulder, eyes squeezed in delight as your words lilt higher. 

“Thank you.”

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

As summer reaches its peak, you find yourself wondering why you were back here again. Chaperoning children that don’t actually need a chaperone, what has your life turned into? 

Touya is nineteen and Fuyumi is about to be eighteen, surely you wouldn’t need to be here. There were two borderline adults here, surely Natsuo and Shouto would be fine with them. But nooo, you can’t have that, that would be too out of character for the system who you're halfway certain is pushing situations for you. 

It wasn’t as if none of them could cook, no, you made sure that every single one of them had some level of skill. Frying an egg, cooking rice, chopping onions, something that would make sure they wouldn’t die if they were left on their own (only the system knows the flashbacks you have of fan art of Shouto and Touya cooking eggs on their bodies). 

And yet, here you are on their summer breaks, cooking the occasional meal and even engaging in every father’s favourite activity, squinting at homework and raging internally when nothing makes sense. The lot of you would gather around the paper, trying to figure out how to solve some over complicated worded maths question, only for the third child to confidently declare the answer, having done the same question a few years back. A dark part of your brain wonders whether Endeavour would ever be the kind of dad to pitch a fit over not understanding an ever evolving maths curriculum, maybe in a kinder world. 

The days have been horridly humid, and though it rains, it doesn’t help much. Honestly, you doubt that even if you made some storm strike down the whole of Shizuoka, you’d still be cooking alive. You’ve resorted to sleeveless shirts and shorts just to help and yet you’re constantly sweating from the heat. What was the point of having all this money if that man can’t even invest in proper air-conditioning? 

Tonight, you’ve been left in charge of the house against your will once more. Endeavour has at least had the decency to tell you why you had to come over, thus you’ve decided on making some cold soba for tonight, if not for yourself then for everyone else suffering alongside you. 

Normally, you’d have someone come help you in the kitchen depending on who was available, like taking out cutlery or bringing food to the table, but you think you might be alone for today. Fuyumi just got back from an outing with friends, Natsuo is currently working on some summer worksheets and Shouto, well… he’s not the best with knives right now. You would ask Touya but you’d rather not bother him right now, not when he’s enjoying his break from his last year of school. 

The sun is still rather high in the sky when you enter the kitchen, still bearing down its burdensome heat. Staring at the spread of ingredients you gathered, a few packs of soba, a pack of udon, dashi stock made a few days ago, you lazily fan yourself with your hand as you start filling a pot with water. 

It's around this point that you can feel your head hurt from the strain of your hair, and with ten million other things to think about, that sense of annoyance wasn’t at all what you needed. With a soft huff, you lazily let down your hair to re-do it, stretching out your lower back when you finish. It seems your age may be catching up with you, as a sound of relief escapes your lips when you can feel the lower vertebrae pop in relief. 

As you open your eyes, you notice the figure standing at the doorway with a blank expression and a cup in hand. You send him a quick wave before you return to your work, opening the pack of soba and discarding the plastic. The eldest Todoroki child doesn’t respond, he merely passes by you to the fridge and starts shovelling ice into his cup. There’s no other sound beyond the soft swell of violins from your phone, and despite hearing the fridge close, he doesn’t leave. 

“Are you good with soba for tonight?” You hum, blithely measuring noodles to be cooked and shared among you all. 

From somewhere behind you, he responds, “Yeah.”

“Alright,” Turning back to confirm, you pull out the pack of soba to show him, to which he only nods. “Do you want some kakiage?”

“Isn’t that inconvenient? I’m fine.”

Still holding onto the plastic wrapped noodles, your brows furrow ever so slightly as you assert, “If you want it, I’ll make it for you.”

There’s a complicated look on his face, one you can’t quite decipher. His eyes narrow and his jaw set, the two of you stand there as though trapped in some imaginary duel. You weren’t lying by any means, it wasn’t as if it was some big trouble to make julienne some onions and carrots if he really wanted kakiage. 

He approaches you, cup of ice water consumed within a few gulps as he meets your eyes. You don’t look away, only cocking your head. 

Finally, he speaks, brows knitted and voice strained, “And you wanna do it all on your own?” 

“Yeah? Unless you want to help,” You huff amusedly.  

Before you can react, he grabs the pack out of your hand and passes by you, heading towards the fridge to fill up the nearby metal bowl with ice. It takes you a while to snap out of your stupor, and with a pleasantly surprised breath, you quietly return to your measuring. 

Touya is unsurprisingly pretty decent at cooking, more attributed to the time he’s spent with the rest of his family. As the eldest, he’s been made to help around when he can, thus unlike Shouto, you can readily trust that your green onions will be cut all the way through. Although not every piece was completely even, not that you could judge, they were fairly uniform. Plus, he’s still rather winning in conversation, sniggering at the gossip you hear and even adding some of his own.

Spooning off grated radish and wasabi onto the individual bowls, you move onto arranging everything onto everyone’s trays before you have to eventually face the demon called the deep fryer. By the time you’ve cooked and distributed the noodles as well as having left the respective broths at their desired temperatures, Touya has already finished cutting all the vegetables needed for tempura. Which meant the only thing left for the both of you was to batter the vegetables up and to fry them, of which you aren’t exactly looking forward to. 

Despite your many encounters with heat, willing and unwilling, frying in general was not a cooking method you particularly liked. Hot oil is scary, hot oil in large amounts even more so. You didn’t even want to make tempura, but your only other option was mackerel and he doesn’t even like fish. Sure, your scales would spring up on the first sign of danger but that didn’t lessen the actual heart pounding, bone recognising fear that deep-frying evokes. 

With a heavy heart, you lower your chopsticks bearing the first sacrificial kakiage into the oil as the sound of sizzling fills the air. Touya stands beside you, admittedly closer towards the pan than you are but still beside you. When it finishes without qualm, only then does your heart briefly slow from its rapid pounding. 

After the first successful piece, you gain more confidence to start frying multiple at once, placing the remaining kakiage in as well as the zucchini. A few beads of sweat roll down your skin, forcing some hair to stick to your face. You try to remove it with your shoulder but to no avail. A hand reaches to flick it away from your forehead, the pads of thick fingers fleetingly brushing against your skin. 

“Thanks,” You send him a smile, eyes squeezing in mild delight.

Returning your focus to retrieving your fried vegetables from the pan, your ears pick up on the now much deeper breaths Touya takes. You should open the window soon, the circulation in here probably isn’t the best right now.

The two of you remain in your unofficial positions until everything has been fried and the stove is turned off. When your eyes glance towards the window, you notice that the sun has already started to dip below the horizon. Still, with everything finished and served, the only thing left to do is to bring it to the dining table and to call everyone else down. Then, of course, you’ll have to start clean-up. 

It is as you’re bringing out the first tray of food that a familiar figure starts to approach down the hall. Fuyumi, having seemingly realised how late it has gotten and that you never called her down, appears almost mortified when she notices you. With small but rushed steps, she scampers towards you. 

She’s quick to take the tray from your hands, asking, “Why didn’t you call me down to help?”

“I didn’t want to bother you from your fun, besides, I had Touya here,” You wave her off, eyes glancing towards the eldest emerging from the kitchen. Patting her on the shoulder, you reassure her, “I’ll go call the other two.”

Your footsteps pad down the wooden floors towards the siblings’ rooms, knocking on their respective doors, “Natsuo, Shouto, dinner’s ready.”

Though Natsuo responds with a quick ‘coming’, Shouto is already out before you can finish your sentence, his little face all but seeping with contentment knowing exactly what you made. When the two of you return to the dining table, it's already been set for five along with all the utensils. Still, you return to the kitchen to retrieve the jug of barley tea you made earlier in the afternoon as well as cups. 

Your return is considerably slower due to the tea, yet even still, you can hear some bits of conversation from within. You don’t quite catch anything legible, but when you enter, almost everyone has already settled into their seat. 

“Woah, this is a lot,” Natsuo comments, eyes scanning across the table. The third child glances over at his sister as he takes his seat. “I thought Fuyumi-nee would be too tired to help.”

“I was, someone else was helping,” She hums almost sing-songedly. 

Shouto on the other hand, scrutinises the five bowls of noodles set out, realising that his bowl has significantly less noodles than the rest. He still takes his seat but calls for your attention almost immediately after, “Why does my bowl have so little?”

“Because I wasn’t sure how hungry you’d be,” Your response is instantaneous despite your focus on pouring out tea for everyone. 

“Can I have more?”

“Mhm, just wait for a bit, okay? I’ll pass you some from my bowl.” You hand him his cup with a squeeze of your eyes, one that he happily accepts. 

Fuyumi and Natsuo don’t miss the way the eldest bites into his piece of zucchini like it wronged him. Ever oblivious, the youngest takes a sip from his cup and very eagerly, or as eagerly as he can display, starts to eat his soba. The rest follow his lead, starting their meal as the occasional bit of conversation springs up.

At this, you decide to get started on washing up, it’ll be more convenient sooner rather than later, especially with the hot oil. As you take your first steps back towards the kitchen, someone seems to notice your departure and alerts the table to it. 

“We’ll clean up later,” Fuyumi interjects before you can leave, accepting your cup passed to her by her brother to fill up. She looks at you with those hopeful eyes and you find yourself cracking once again, “Eat with us, please.”

The rest of the table chimes in, the younger three in different arrays of expectation. Yet, when your eyes land on Touya’s, heavy lidded yet still bearing some glimmer of that same hope, you let out a soft huff as the corners of your lips tug. You really couldn’t say no to them. 

“Fine.”

Dinner goes by rather quietly, with little being shared and perhaps a bit more teasing done, especially with Fuyumi’s recent outing. Let it be known that accusations of her secretly meeting up with someone was not on your initiative, but rather from the eldest. Of course, it isn’t long until everyone else dog piles on those claims as everyone is teased about imaginary lovers until eventually, a very innocent question is asked about your love life. 

Unsurprisingly, not many people are interested in dating someone who lives in the mountains. Nor are they interested in someone who may or may not be associated with the Yoshikawa family (you thank your parents and Hiroomi that they’ve kept your existence so vague, if only because it was fun to fuck with people). The topic is dropped as quickly as it was introduced and everyone returns to the quiet meal with little issue. Though distinctly, that tapping sound that started when your dating life got brought up stops. 

True to their words, you’re practically shoved away from the sink to help clean up by Fuyumi and Natsuo. And by shove, you mean they stared at you and said the magic words. They said, as you can so thoroughly quote, ‘you cook, we clean, that’s the rules’. They weren’t wrong, but that was just using your own words against you. You weren’t even allowed to wipe the table since Shouto beat you to that, somehow. You’re pretty sure all of them planned this. 

Still, they can’t keep you away from your habitual fruit cutting, and when they finish, you hand them their plate of peaches and grapes. Shouto had his smaller plate in the dining room, and he’s already back in his room, likely preparing to bathe. This leaves only one person left, who you find sitting outside, looking towards the courtyard as night descends upon the world. 

Approaching Touya, you offer him the plate of fruit with a hum, “Fruit?”

He accepts your offer, fingers brushing against your hand as he takes the ceramic plate into his care. Sitting beside him, you press your hands to your much cooler scales as the breeze fans off the both of you. Among the solitude, you roll your shoulders back as a yawn escapes you, one that leaves you slightly bleary with languour. You hear the clink of metal against ceramic, and when you look towards him, he’s offering you the remaining pieces, all the grapes rolling around with only the remnants of peaches. Instinctively, you reach out to pop a grape in your mouth. 

“You can ask me to help with meals when Fuyumi and Natsuo can’t, y’know?”

It's a sentence he springs onto you as you’re eating, one that has you sending him a wide eyed look of surprise. Still, you catch yourself fast enough to answer. 

“I don’t want to bother you,” Shaking your head, you smile. Your eyes glance towards the sky, a soft breath leaving you as a tinge of contentment fills you, “Besides, the two of them want to learn so it's fine.”

“Though, Fuyumi is already much better than me,” You laugh. 

He only reiterates his intentions, his voice taking on an earnest tone along with the slight shift in his visage, “I’m serious, I want to help.”

“Don’t think you’re forcing me or anything,” He’s quick to comment, as though knowing how you’d react.

You admit, you just didn’t think he’d really enjoy cooking, let alone cooking with another person in his space. Fuyumi may be the only exception where she doesn’t mind people around her as she cooks. It wasn’t really out of any hesitation or qualm, but rather perhaps some kind of awkwardness you didn’t want to acknowledge, couldn’t acknowledge. 

Yet, there was still a part of you that was scared that you somehow messed up, that somehow seeing that young boy in the dark void was a sign of your failure, that your new life was really an elaborate punishment from the system. But you didn’t like the thought of that, you hated the idea that the life you’ve helped the Todoroki siblings create was just some illusion. 

You feared above all that you never really did change anything, that bright and passionate Touya died in that fire, and that in all reality, there was only Dabi.

But you know better, you should know better. Although that resentment still existed within him, it certainly is not the seething odium of the original canon. Looking at him, he really isn’t that young boy anymore. Remnants of that possibility remain, the cartilage and nostril piercings (you were the one who accompanied him and Natsuo all those years ago), the scars that never healed completely seamlessly, the slightly more stoic personality he’s adopted, still he no longer treads down the path of his future as Dabi, but rather as Touya. 

That little ray keychain that hangs on your bag in a room, smiling at everyone who sees it, is proof enough.

You can only laugh, for there was no other expression that could better describe your joy, “Don’t blame me when you complain about how sweaty you’ll get then.”

He scrunches his nose at that, yet still a confident grin pulls across his face as he turns your statement back onto you. 

Among the summer winds and sparkling stars, the system pings.

[!New Objective: Always with Me!]

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Touya is 21 years old when he makes his debut as a pro-hero. Though you won’t get into the details as to exactly what happened when the topic of which agency he’d sign into, the only thing you will share is that there were a lot of emotionally constipated talks.

Thus, with the promise that again he would not push himself to his limits alongside using the proper support equipment as per Dr. Onizuka’s recommendations, he was eventually let off the hook. It would be an understatement to say that he was both glad to be out of that situation as well as conflicted. Or you supposed he was. It must certainly have been odd, especially since while he was signed under a hero who seemingly had a fire quirk, it seemed that they specialised more in evacuation and stealth so you honestly have no idea why he signed under them. 

You’ll be honest, you don’t actually know how everything happened, you just remember mediating and advocating for his choice, and then suddenly you were being invited for events that clearly were meant for family.  

Safe to say, Touya has been working under this pro with almost no issue. Concurrently,  you never really heard of them, and information about them has been spotty based on what the system shows you, but you weren’t going to sweat it.

Thus with the arrival of spring, as well as obviously almost everyone back to their routine of school and work, you could retreat back to your routine. Which incidentally, you decided that you needed to get a better grasp on the current situation, seeing as you’d been putting all your efforts into the Todoroki family and thereby accidentally ignoring everything else. 

Musutafu is ultimately not that different from any big city you’ve been in, and with the plot having progressed as late as you have let it, you’re not exactly sure what you’re looking for. Rather, you might have realised your propensity to claim to do things for the plot, only to turn around and do as you please. Still, you were going to get that peaceful life promised to you sooner or later, and your idea of a peaceful life happened to involve some kind of romance, thank you very much. 

So who cares that you don’t actually have much to do, you’re due for a nice stroll anyways. 

Your feet rap against the concrete pathways, strolling as your eyes trail across the shops on display. The blithe spring wind whistles in your ears and the sunlight is gentle, there aren’t too many people on the streets and there isn’t any odd chaos, it's practically the perfect day. 

You’ve already gotten a little lost in some massive liminal department store, very thoroughly did not get tempted to buy unnecessary things like a ladle shaped like a dinosaur or a traditional tea set. So when you returned back to reality and saw a cute little bakery just across the street, you decided to take a bit more of a scenic route so you’d work up the appetite to treat yourself. 

Being in this part of Musutafu, you’re surprised you’ve yet to see any patrolling heroes but then again, you’re not sure exactly who would be going through here anyways. By the time you get to the patisserie, you’re positively peckish for a treat when your eyes land on a prettily decorated peach tart. There were a few other tarts and cakes, but for some reason you just couldn’t take your eyes off of it. 

Peaches. He likes peaches.

Approaching the counter, you wind up getting a slice of key-lime pie and some tarts for the rest of them, as well as that peach tart.

The woman at the counter seemed all but pleased at your selection, even noting that the tart you kept staring at was their best seller at the moment. Internally, you preened at your astute instincts, externally you only laughed and thanked her. 

As you exit the store, which you regrettably did seeing as you did actually have other things to see, you feel your phone buzz in your bag. Hiking the bag of pastries onto your elbow, you dig around for your buzzing phone to find Fuyumi’s caller ID flashing on your screen. 

You press your phone against your ear, likewise checking the time on your watch just to make sure. “Hm? Fuyumi?”

“Are you in the city? Apparently there’s been reports of a criminal running around so I just wanted to check in on you,” Her voice is soft, likely on her break and calling the first moment she could. In the background, you could hear the soft sounds of children. 

“Mhm, well I’m fine. A small-time criminal is nothing compared to what I’ve been through.” Your hand reaches up to wave her off, eyes tipped towards the ground as you continue walking. 

“I’ll be dropping by later, is that okay?” You hum, looking through your little bag of goodies. As you speak, your eyes drift to the peach tart,  “I got some pastries from this bakery and I think you’d all like them.”

Just as you look up, you perhaps again remember that the system hates you. A small gasp escapes you, and it's the only sound you can muster, “Ah–”

You should be better than this, you’re supposed to be above petty crime, so why is it that you always end up in these stupid situations? How was this even possible? You couldn’t possibly be taken hostage right after you said all that, could you? 

Fuyumi wasn’t wrong when she said there was a criminal causing chaos, because said criminal was currently holding you hostage with a blade to your throat. He’s dressed a little shabbily, and honestly calling him a villain is a bit too generous, if anything he was just some punk with a knife. You say knife, but if you actually bothered to look, it was more like his finger was a knife. Anyways, you’d dare say the only crime he’s committed is smashing your pastries on the ground, and you were going to give those to the rest of them. 

He’s yelling of something you could care less for to the petrified bystanders, and by god you did not think they were genuinely all that useless. Surely someone would have the balls to at least call the police? 

Although you could theoretically strike him down with lightning (or your scales would spread up on instinct and just make the poor guy look like a buffoon), you weren’t feeling for another fine, not today. You’d just let the poor guy do whatever he’s going to do, it’s not like he could actually kill you anyways. Not when the system took ‘unkillable NPC’ literally. 

[User should still try to actually escape (＃＞＜)]

“Oh nooo, help me, I’ve been kidnapped.” You groan.  

Your captor hisses at you, pressing his blade (finger) closer towards your neck, “What the fuck is wrong with you? Most people actually scream that you know?”

Catching his gaze out of the corner of your eye, you can only sneer, “Kinda hard to scream when I’m not particularly stimulated right now, sorry bud, you’re real fucking boring.”

Still, despite seemingly the entire crowd’s expectation, no one comes. You start wondering whether you could just grab onto the blade and jam it into his head. He couldn’t just destroy your pastries and not pay. You paid good money for those. 

As you lament your smashed tarts, your ears pick up on something. In the distance, you think you hear a familiar catchphrase and your face cringes. Maybe your system was really becoming those systems that push stupid situations for the plot. 

[!New Side Quest: Love under Fire!]

Before your very eyes, you’re faced with arguably the most recognisable hero of both this world and your own. 220cm of pure muscle, you did not think that American comic book shading would translate well into real life, yet here you are. The All Might, about to save you from the most cliche crime ever. 

You didn’t miss that system notification. Was this really going to be the start of your love story? 

Just your luck, you wail and moan about being single forever and the system pushes the one person you joked about being your only option right in front of your eyes. Well, it wasn’t as if All Might is unattractive in either form.  Who knows when you’ll get to see him next, you might as well try your chances. Even if you had a knife against your throat. 

If the system wants to play stupid games, then it’ll win stupid prizes, starting now. 

Though distinctly feeling the press of metal digging into your skin, you put on your most winning smile as your glasses tip down your nose. 

“Hey, come here often?”

The young man all but screeches, “Lady, I can literally slit your throat right now. Why are you flirting with All Might?”

“I have zero game, let me have this,” Hissing, you bite back. 

He’s dumbfounded at this, face twisting in disgust as his hand falters ever so slightly. Perhaps the only one more confused than him was the man himself, the unwitting catalyst for your horrid dalliance. You wish you could better describe it, but the only way you could was making one imagine the man himself, the very Symbol of Peace™ with a giant question mark bubble coming out of him. Perhaps if you were more eloquent, but alas. 

It was time. Time to use the English you hold so dear to your heart. Or more like English with a select few Japanese sprinkled in.  

“Are you from Tennessee?” With a wink and a smile, you lift your hand to throw him a finger gun as you continue the line in English. “Cause you’re the only ten I see.”

The man and All Might share a look, one you can only describe as utter and complete bafflement, albeit for two completely different reasons. You don’t let that stop you, no, if anything, it only encourages you. Seeing him like this blurting out anything trying to piece together a proper sentence, certainly had its appeal you must admit. 

“On a scale of one to America, how free are you tonight?” Your grin doesn’t falter, summoning some light winds to breeze through your hair as well as blinding your captor. 

As the man spits out your hair from his mouth, another person is at the scene. This time, it's a young woman who maybe comes up to All Might’s elbows, large fox-like ears on her head with a few tails sprouting from her back. You vaguely recognise her from watching the news, another pro-hero but definitely not one you can recognise from canon.

“What the actual fuck.” She blurts out, equally confused. 

The older man manages to say something through his shock, proclaiming, “Young Zenko! Language!”

“I don’t think the kidnappee blurting pick up lines is worth that,” She yells back.

You send another coy grin, your teeth peeking through your lips, “If the Arizona heat didn’t exist, you’d be the hottest thing on this earth.”

By this point, there’s more than a few cameras pointed at you. It's only at this point that some shame rushes to you, but goddamn it, if the system was going to force a side quest on you called ‘Love under Fire’, you were going to put your all into it! As you’re about to blurt out another bad America related pick-up line, you’re very rudely interrupted by the person who smashed your beloved tarts. 

“Look, I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with her too, just take me alright?” Your captor huffs, throwing his hands in the air after his finger returns to normal. “I don’t even want to kill her anymore.”

“Boo, boring,” You sneer. 

Before he can even fully process what you said, a concentrated jet of blue flames rushes past you to slam into him. You didn’t even know that was possible. Nevertheless, the poor guy now lay knocked out on the concrete, unsurprisingly not burnt despite the fire’s very, very miffed owner. 

However, since you were effectively being held up by your captor until he decided to give up like a coward, your knees had forgotten that it actually had a job in holding you upright. The rapidly approaching ground fills your vision until it isn’t, a rather strong and large arm having caught you mid-fall. 

Looking up, you’re greeted with that face once more, and there was only one thing going through your head as you remained in that arm. 

Was your heart pumping like no one’s business because of almost face-planting into concrete, or because you were face to face with a very attractive man right now?

“Good job distracting the perpetrator, young lady! Though I must admit, I did not think bad pick-up lines would be so effective!” All Might flashes you a blinding smile, and you must be seeing heaven right now with how truly bright it is. 

He thought…. He thought you were just distracting him? 

You would fall down to your knees if it wasn't for him supporting you right now! Your heart could cry from this! You could sue for emotional damage, that’s how hurt you are!

“Ah…yes. Th-thank you…” You wheeze out, managing to steady yourself despite your rejection (not). 

And just as fast as he appeared, he’s gone in a blink of an eye, probably to save more people and to break more hearts. Zenko, the shorter woman, approaches you, a complicated expression on her face that you’ll pin as mild revulsion. Looking at her, you notice her hero costume reminds you of a certain series, though you’re hesitant to call it out. There’s something familiar about her name though, you wonder why. 

A voice calls out from behind her, one very familiar and one you really hoped was not who you thought it was. Yet again, you’re wrong. His voice is stolid, un-betraying of any hint, “Zenko.”

The hero only waves him over, and just like his greeting, there is nothing on his expression beyond what seems to be mild and professional chagrin. 

“Touya.” You stumble forwards, having to be steadied by her, eyes scanning over his being to check for something you yourself weren’t sure of existing.

“You know him?” She murmurs, just loud enough for you to hear.

In an almost uncharacteristic act of what you think might be concern, he reaches out to almost ghost over your neck. He asks, and if you strained, you could hear just the slightest lilt in his voice, “Are you okay?”

He’s taller than you, you’ve only now fully realised that. Being so close to him, you wonder whether he’s always looked so pretty with his brows furrowed together and his eyes so full of focus. His lashes, both upper and lower, are still so long, they almost kiss his cheeks. Even with the slightly discoloured scars, you don’t think you’ve seen a prettier person in all your years here. You should really thank Rei for having such strong genes someday. 

“Hm? Yeah. ‘s not like the guy could have done anything anyways, just didn’t want to get another fine,” You smile, brain barely processing anything much. 

“That shouldn’t be what you’re worrying about!”

Zenko sucks in a breath through her teeth, “I think that’s our cue to leave.”

“Nothing to see here! Situation handled, criminal arrested!” Zenko yells out, holding up her hands as a trained smile is pulled across her lips. 

Despite their obvious doubt, upon the urge of a hero, the crowd eventually disperses and you’re made to follow along to file the relevant report. The car ride to the agency is deathly quiet, with Zenko placed between the two of you and nervously glancing between the two of you like she was a kid in the middle of her parents arguing. No one acknowledges what just happened. In fact, nothing is said up until you’re pushed into a room by the hero who has a very obviously fazed look on her face, before she promptly pushes Touya in too. 

It takes him all but 10 seconds before he continues grilling you over your recklessness. And you swear that you have never been more confused in your life. 

His hands are thrown up in front of him, emphasising his every word as he chews into you, “Do you think you’re unkillable or something? Why’d you just let that guy threaten you?” 

“He could have killed you!”

“I know you aren’t some helpless maiden so why didn’t you just–!” His voice breaks, those beautiful turquoise eyes of his almost shaking with emotion. 

Seeing him distraught, actually distraught, sends some kind of ache through your heart. If you had known that he’d react like this, you wouldn’t have let it get to the point of needing All Might. 

You reach for him, he lets you, pulling him into a loose embrace. He stiffens for just a moment, but quickly relaxes in your hold, almost curling in. You can hear his heartbeat, thumping against his ribs. Softly, you can only coo, “Hey, I’m fine, see?”

He isn’t the young boy at the bottom of the lake anymore, the young boy you held in your arms as you hacked your lungs out. He’s 21 now, and you’re just the family friend. This concern was merely born out of the inherent helplessness he must have felt, knowing that he could have done something but might have been too late. 

He’s just comforting himself, reassuring himself that you’re alive and that he wasn’t too late. 

He doesn’t rebuke your touch. You wonder whether he’s always been so warm. 

Touya murmurs, quiet and hushed, “Don’t do that ever again.” 

“Just do whatever you want, I’ll pay the fines.”

“I won’t, I promise,” You whisper back. 

The two of you remain like that until you hear his heartbeat and breathing steady, unremitting and constant. When you pull away, his brows knit together for a trice before he returns to his placid visage. 

“I’m going to go back, don’t get yourself hurt alright?” You smile, your hand finding his to rub your thumb over his knuckles. “It wouldn’t just be Dr. Onizuka who’ll be mad at you if you do.”

“Yeah,” He huffs in amusement, perhaps even irony. He smiles easier, he says nothing about your hand.

“You too.”

At this, Zenko makes her very timely appearance with an almost dramatic swing of the door. The shorter woman glances at him with a pointed look before she turns her attention to you. 

“Oh uh, thanks for getting off brand Edward Scissorhands off of me,” You send the pro-hero a strained smile and a little bow, putting your hand up to excuse yourself before preparing to scurry off. 

Touya only raises his brow, “Who?”

Zenko doesn’t seem as confused, her hand raising along with yours yet her eyes told a different story, widening ever so slightly in recognition. Still, you make your way out before your ears pick up on something from inside. You really shouldn’t eavesdrop but you couldn’t help it.

“I see.” Zenko almost muses deep in thought. 

“Didn’t think your type was older women, you should’ve just said that.”

He hisses back, “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Ouch, still a weird question to ask though. Besides, this Zenko must be on something. How would Touya’s type even be older women? He already had dozens of borderline rabid fans. If he just tries a little harder, he could have anyone. Admittedly, this person would have to look past some stuff, but he’s still a far cry from those micharacterisations!

She doesn’t answer that, merely throwing work onto him, “Oh yeah, remember to watch the footage the police collected.”

“You’ll enjoy it,” She remarks, then as though catching herself, clarifies, “I think.”

“Actually, maybe don’t.”

A few moments of silence passes in there, and you wonder how much of it is because he’s judging her. Then, she speaks again. 

Her voice bears a tinge of annoyance, “And don’t let your dad know, I don’t want that old man on my back again.”

What does Endeavour even have to do with this?

[!Side Quest Complete: Love under Fire!]

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Hiroomi is, you mean this as kindly as possible, kind of a clueless idiot when it comes to what updating means. While one would think update means messaging someone the moment they can, his idea of ‘update’ means a day before the actual event. And only emails you like some kind of lunatic, that and the maximum two sentence messages.

One then might be wondering what exactly is this event that has you so irked on your brother’s wonderful habit? 

It's an important charity gala (you’d be more amazed if he was actually donating it) that you had to attend to prove that you weren’t dead. Which was apparently a thing that you did every so often. It wasn’t like the system told you anything about that, nor did any quests pop up so you’d have to take his word for it. 

Around five in the afternoon (which by the way he didn’t even tell you when they’d pick you up, that and you’d be picked up in the first place), you were very rudely interrupted from your mid-afternoon nap by Hiroomi hovering above with no explanation just telling you that you had to go, making you very much regret moving towards the base of the mountain.

Probably helpful to add that you were in your bedroom. 

Which is why you were now standing on some pedestal stage… thing, in nothing but the innermost hadajuban and nagajuban. A tying cord and datejime is tightly wrapped around you, and you’re already a bit scared for what’s next. The room is at the very least, heated and you’ve been waiting for quite a while since you’ve been brought here. There is a vanity near you, though no makeup was present on the counter, rather a variety of kanzashi and pins.

When your brother returns, he’s quick to slip the dark houmongi onto your shoulders, a beautiful piece of clothing with minute flowers around a large river-like icon wrapping from the back. He wastes no time with getting everything on as he swiftly ties more fastening cord and the obi-ita. 

With your arms raised, you ask, “Are you finally going to wear something that’s not a suit?”

“Ha ha ha, very funny,” Hiroomi snarks, hands occupied with tucking the obi into something tidier. Again, it's another practised action, barely having to look as he already reaches for the obi-jime. “No.”

“White man,” Huffing, you can only lament the situation you just had to be in. 

At that, he suddenly pulls the knot tight, knocking the breath out of your lungs. An unintelligible noise leaves your throat, some unholy combination of a wheeze and a groan. Snapping your head towards him, your mouth hangs agape as you imagine exploding him with your mind. 

With a shit-eating grin, he doesn’t even bother to loosen the tight knot. “Don’t talk shit to the person tying your obi next time.”

“You going to pull out my hair later too?”

“If you call me a white man, yes.”

Still, the elder ryu finishes without any further delay and rushes you to the vanity. Once more, you really should start asking yourself why he’s so good at this, this went beyond knowing how to do your sister’s hair, this was the whole damn package! This man was better at hiding bobby pins than you! Before you knew it, Hiroomi had all but finished his work, at least until he held out a fabric mask.

“Make your horns longer.”

Raising a brow, you throw him a look. “What?”

“We’ve gone through this, you need to make your horns longer so at least there’s some deniability,” Voice deadpan, he only hooks his fingers between the straps. 

“How long? Is– is that a fucking ruler?”

He actually pulls out a ruler and holds it up to your horns, making you partially shift the top of your head to extend the core beyond your usual stubby shoots. Then, he drapes the veil onto your horns, thin straps hanging off your horns as you were now fully encased from the outside world. You have to rely on him to offer his hand just to stand up, careful to not step on your kimono or shift the obi-jime.  

“Are you sure no one will know who I am?” Turning to where you think he is, your voice bears some tinge of uncertainty.

His voice comes from ahead of you, farther from the vanity but not out of reach, “No one’s going to see your face, barely anyone will hear your voice, the kimono has been made to hide your proportions entirely, you had a manic episode and cut bangs again, what is there to be worried about?”

Then, it takes on that quality you’re just so familiar with. Exhausted with that lining of disappointment. 

“Are you worried someone is going to mention the–” 

“Yes I’m worried someone will realise I’m the idiot who got held hostage and flirted with All Might.”

“I screened everyone before sending invites,” He sighs, returning to your side as his hands hover around your head, fingers ghosting along the edges of the veil. “If someone even mentions it later, we can take down any kind of communication and sort them out.”

‘Sort them out’. When rich people say that, it either means suing them in court, sending a cease and desist or the more questionable option, crime. You’ll admit, you don’t know which one he’s referring to. 

Tentatively, you find your lodged voice, “Have you– done this before?”

Hiroomi attaches something to the ends, weighing it down. As though commenting about the weather, he hums, “When you were thirteen, someone saw your face in the lady’s stall and wouldn’t stop blabbing about it. Do you know where she is now?”

“No…?” You raise your brow, no matter if he can't see it.

“Exactly.”

You still don’t know which one it is. You’re too scared to want to know. 

Flipping up the veil, he’s adjusting the handkerchief in his pocket, in a matching colour and design as your houmongi. Hiroomi takes one last look at himself in the mirror. 

It feels odd to not have to do anything, if you had to be honest. You thought you’d have to do more but you’ve basically been all dressed up without having to lift a finger. Do you know how many women would kill for a man to perfectly prepare everything like he does? It's a wonder he’s not married, must be the emotional constipation. 

“Is there anything you want me to do?” You mutter, eyes on your clasped hands.

“I admit, I feel bad for you even having to do this in the first place,” He huffs wryly, handing you a bag and placing your phone in it, even going so far to show you everything inside. Hand sanitiser, a pack of tissues, some candies and sanitary products. You’re starting to feel like you’re in those dress up games. 

Your hand flips down the veil, continuing to listen to his almost humourless mirth. “But since we can’t risk anyone finding out your actual identity, you’ll just have to follow me around for a bit, and you can leave after about half an hour after my speech.” 

He wraps your arm around his, and takes slow steps as you enter the hallway. You can feel a dozen eyes following you, tracking your every movement and step. The older man continues, “A private car will take you back.”

“If someone gives you flack when I’m not around, you have full permission to do whatever you want.”

With a wondrous cant, your head snaps to his direction. “You’re telling me I can kill someone?” 

“Maim yes, kill no,” He clarifies, then mutters something to someone nearby.

“That was a joke.”

You hear the cloth of his suit jacket shift, your hand moving to his hand to pinch it which elicits a pitchy yelp from him. 

Well, he wasn’t lying when he said he felt bad, because you’d feel bad for yourself too. For about an entire hour, you just stood next to him as he talked with ‘insert surname’ this and ‘insert hero name’ that. Occasionally, you’d tip your head when you heard clothes shift in that way or felt a light breeze from the action, but it was ultimately not something very enjoyable, especially when you couldn’t even see who was in front of you. 

As you think about your warm duvet and hours of browsing anonymously written atrocities representative of a human’s inner most desires (someone had been writing fanfiction of pro-heroes and you were quite tickled finding an All Might x Endeavour long form), you hear some footsteps approach and you tip your head in greeting. Yet you don’t immediately return to your rather insightful fantasising, your ears pick up on a familiar set of steps, the rhythm and pace all too close to your own knowledge. 

Though you can’t see (you curse that fact now more than ever), your head still raises to try and figure out whether it truly is who your heart believes it to be. 

“Zenko, it is a pleasure to have your appearance,” Hiroomi’s tone is even, stolid without a hint of inflection or waver. You can feel him tip his head as well, clearly more indicative of his lack of stake with the pro-hero. “We sincerely hope you and your sidekick will enjoy tonight’s festivities.”

“You’ve been saying that for the longest time, but you and I both know nothing’s going to happen,” She merely laughs off, and though you can’t see her face, some part of you tells you she might not have the most polite expression on.

“Well, if you would like to be escorted out by security later, by all means, you can do as you please.”

“Hilarious, this is why the only women who’ll talk to you are your mother and sister.”

Your finger reaches for your brother’s arm, poking it incessantly until he relents and flips his palm over for you to write. You hastily scrawl out the words for sidekick and a question mark, and when you offer your palm, he writes out the kanji for ‘ignited’ and ‘arrow’. Your chest tightens for a moment, but before you can continue asking, two sets of footsteps come ever closer. 

Tipping your head, you follow along his lead. “Mr and Mrs. Sato, a pleasure to have you two here showing your support once more.”

At that, you’ve gone back to your duvet. The things you’d do for a warm night in are starting to pile up in your head, flooding the venue, slipping out when no one was looking to drive back, maybe you’d fake an attack. The nattering voice of whoever these Sato people were popped into your consciousness every so often, pitchy and spilling with desperation. Mentally, you thank the mask for even existing in the first place, better to never have to put a face to the names. 

The rest of the greetings go by about the same, and there’s barely any difference during your brother’s speech. All you had to do was, again be accompanied to your seat, which you assume is near the podium and away from the others based on how loud the microphone was, sit and say nothing. You clap when others clap, tip your head when you’re acknowledged, and do literally nothing else. He talks about aiding those much less fortunate through the means of the charity and encouraging those attending to use their advantages for good, usual rich people things where they just say vaguely nice sounding sentences for journalists to copy paste into their works. Again, you have to clarify that you would like to think that your brother is in fact a nice person who sticks to his words, but you kinda doubt it. 

Eventually, even that ends and you count down the minutes leading to your eventual departure. Though your mind is still preoccupied with that anonymous author’s deranged writings, you find that there’s another matter that has been slowly taking over, or rather person. 

Hiroomi wrote the kanji for ‘ignited arrow’, didn’t he? 

Was he here? Did Zenko really bring her fucking sidekick, who’s already gone through ten million of these courtesy of his dad, to some snobby gala? Usually pro-heroes bring their spouse, or their children, or they just don’t bring a plus one! 

As you sit on that damned chair waiting for something to maybe happen, though you doubt it, you hear someone pull up a chair next to you. Your ears pick up on that breathing pattern, and when your hand reaches out, you’re greeted with scarred skin, the pads of your fingers feeling across the edge of his jaw.

“Touya?” Tentatively, you mutter beneath your breath.

A hand presses atop yours, the warmth radiating off of it greedily absorbed into your own. He gingerly removes your hand and places them atop your lap to join the other, he doesn’t take it back, uncharacteristically keeping the two together. 

Touya grins, you’re sure he is, clearly amused by your complete disadvantage, “You choose to be escorted everywhere like a doll or do you have to wear that thing?”

“If this was a choice, I wouldn’t be wearing any of this at all,” You remark, sardonic lilt tinged from the matching grimace on your face.

“Woah, at least take me out for dinner.” His voice plays at an attempt at suave composure, perhaps if you were a lesser person you’d believe it. But the clearly joking tone tells you more than enough. 

Your other hand raises to deal a light smack. “Come on, you’re too young for that.”

“You’re right, I’ll take you out.”

The attempt at flirting, if you could even call it that, was about as bad as you thought it’d be. It sounds like something you’d say when you ran out of things to say. Yet though your entire visage has twisted to reflect your wince, your heart still threatens to escape your rib’s confines. It must be the secondhand embarrassment. 

With a deadpan tone, you murmur as he leans in closer to hear you, “You can’t see my face right now but I’m cringing.”

“That usually works,” He mutters in your ears, still playful. 

“On the roach that always ends up in the bathroom that has to be taken out by Fuyumi when it starts flying?”

“You can’t see my face but I’m scowling at you right now.”

You think you can hear a bit of a pout, and despite his words, you let out a small breath of mirth. The two of you remain there, talking in hushed tones and murmured whispers as he points out people for you to eavesdrop on, describing what they look like as you mimic overexaggerated versions of their conversations. Not at all ethical, but who was going to stop you? 

Not once does his hand leave your lap, rough fingers playing with your pinky. 

At the back of your mind, you’ve forgotten how much time has passed, content with soft amusement and the constant companionship. 

As Touya shields your face from view so you can drink, you hear a couple approaching, pitchy and buzzing in your ears. Still, you keep drinking and pointedly try to will away the idea of even considering why they kept talking about you. 

Alas, the system hates you. 

A man’s voice reaches you, you think he’s still standing as the sound comes from above you, rather too fulsome for your liking, “Ms. Yoshikawa, it's a pleasure to see you in good health.”

“Yes, truly. It seems you only glow as you get older,” A woman’s voice follows up, equally buttery and far better at hiding whatever insincere intentions she and her husband clearly share.

“Oh darling, your brother certainly spoils you too much. You look absolutely winsome.”

With a tap on his leg, you discretely wave him off. Touya obliges, excusing himself as you are now left alone with the couple. The Sato’s, you think? It doesn’t matter, something tells you that you won’t enjoy this. 

What even was the point of approaching you? It's a clear fact that you hold no sway on the company’s dealings, let alone Hiroomi’s! They’d be better off trying to butter up the security guards than you! ‘Winsome’ your ass, they couldn’t even see your face!

Stilling your shoulders, you keep looking ahead of you, refusing to break the adroit posture you’ve adopted. They seemingly take your silence, your only option, as an invitation to sit, the sounds of a chair shifting on the carpeted floors as they sit somewhere at the table. You only hope they haven’t sat where Touya was. 

Mrs. Sato leans in towards you, her voice taking on a lower, faux-sympathy, “Was that Todoroki boy bothering you, dear? You mustn't let just anyone talk to you so casually.”

“If that boy’s father wasn’t Endeavour, I doubt anyone would take his attitude.”

“So unruly, that Zenko only makes him worse.”

“And while I do understand that Zenko is in the top 10, surely she should have some humility for someone ranking so low.” The man mithers, the sound of a glass leaving the table reaching your ears as he does so. 

Your eye twitches, what was it with rich people acting like stereotypical drama evil mother-in-laws? At least your brother used his bitchiness for good, these people were just shit-talking people way more competent than them! How dare they even consider Touya anything beyond an upstanding, highly-skilled hero? He isn’t confident for no reason! If anything, his confidence is a reflection of the pure skill and mastery he held over his abilities! Would they be able to knock out a hostage taker without even burning the hostage? You doubted it! These people couldn’t even do a fraction of what he does! When they could earn the recognition of even stick-up-the-ass Endeavour purely based on sheer proficiency, then they could talk!

Pretending to be nonchalant was like pretending you were stupid at this point. It felt like your bones were rattling in your skin, shaking and yearning to be free from your mortal shell. The scales on your legs rush upwards, blood rushing through your veins as you swallow thickly. Just thinking about Touya possibly catching any part of this forced thicker nails to extend. 

“What was your brother thinking of inviting them?” Mr Sato laments, probably twisting his cartoonishly shaped moustache while he’s at it. “He must be so stressed from having to manage an entire enterprise on his own, there’s no other reason.”

“Not to brag, but my husband and I are known to be quite the advisors. There’s no one else better than us when it comes to counsel,” His wife places a hand on your shoulder, and it takes everything inside of you to not slap it away. 

Their laugh is almost a cackle, no matter that it sounded ridiculous, it still set your hair on its ends, “At the very least, he wouldn’t be inviting callous halfwits like them.”

Without a second thought, a cloud of hefty rain gathers above their heads, pelting leaden droplets as the crackle of lightning brews within the dark nimbus. You almost rise from your seat, arms itching to reach out just to grab something, to dig your claws into skin and draw unrighteous blood. Rushing down, you could vaguely hear some heavy footsteps approaching the couple and the scandalised gasps, ignorant couple and not. 

And it seems that your brother’s words were right, you could maim someone unprompted and get away with it (not like you were going to), because not a second later, all you can hear is shuffling fabric and the very, very enraged and whiny screeching. The thundering rain doesn’t stop, hissing lightning and roaring rain continuing to follow them even as they scream and shout.

“How dare you! Don’t think just because your brother is important means you’ll get away with this!”

In your mind, one of them was attempting to shove their finger in your face but failing miserably. “Get your hands off of us! I’ll sue you! You hear me! We’ll sue you! You’ll be hearing from our lawyers!”

In the midst of all the commotion, a figure has approached you from behind, once again belonging to the person with that familiar heartbeat. Your hand reaches out again, but instead of his face, he has taken your hand into his, helping you up as your shoes squelch into the drenched carpet. 

Someone else steps forwards, then bows. Their voice is soft for discretion’s sake but not mousey, coming from somewhere ahead of you. 

“Ms. Yoshikawa, the car has been prepared.”

You’re still holding onto Touya’s hand, relying entirely on his presence just to walk. A soft breath escapes him, an odd mixture of confusion and something else you can’t place your finger on. You don’t trust that Zenko to manage the cultivated jeering with her attitude. And you sure as hell don’t trust the rest of the old geezer stakeholders or whatever bullshit people were going to snide their grubby little faces at him.

Your finger reaches to tap his arm, and he only leans towards you. “Hm?”

Getting on your tiptoes, you whisper to his ear, only separated by the mask’s layer, careful to keep your voice as low as possible, “Do you want to get out of here?”

“Yeah, party’s boring anyways,” He squeezes your hand, voice lilting with ebullient levity. 

The walk to the car is admittedly, a lot quieter than you thought it’d be. And it seems that security has been told to listen to you, as no one questions why you were being guided by someone else who is very clearly not Hiroomi. You’re led to a dark car park, insisting on blindly feeling around for the car handle only to almost knock your horns into the car’s top. When you do finally get in, you hear a soft ‘oof’ and then the click of the car door.

Fumbling with the veil’s straps, you just manage to slip it off your horns as they return to their usual state. Your eyes take a while to adjust again, both half blind from not having your glasses and squinting from the bright lighting. You pick off the multiple kanzashi in your hair, haphazardly shoving them into your bag as you rush to undo your hair. A sigh of relief escapes you, and when you turn your head, you find Touya’s eyes focused on you, wide and borderline entranced. 

Now able to see him, you have to stop yourself from gasping. You’ve seen him dressed formally before, but certainly this felt different. Unlike traditional mens’ wear, he had on a dark dress shirt and a white suit, hand halfway unbuttoning the top few buttons as he had already likely shed his tie. 

Before you could say anything, you have to avert your gaze lest you say something stupid and the chauffeur takes off, the car revving up as the GPS starts the fastest possible route to your home. 

“Thank you, for helping me,” You manage a smile, weakly meeting his eyes through the window’s reflection. 

The young man only waves you off, and for a moment, there’s nothing that fills the car. It leaves you with the silence to reflect on your actions, but mostly on the palatable rage that sat heavy on your tongue when you heard those baseless discredits. While you could possibly write it off as general concern for the younger generation, you tried to think as to what you would do if they said that to Fuyumi, Natsuo or even Shouto, and could only only think of calling security to take them away. 

Why did you do that? Why did your hands yearn to grab them by their stringy hair just to smash it into that glass they kept drinking out of? Why did you wish he heard none of it? 

What was this ugly thing that sits heavy in your chest?

Your fist balls up in your lap as you tentatively ask, “Did you… hear any of that?”

“A little,” He breathes, eyes facing the ever changing landscape but he quickly returns to you. Within those turquoise orbs was that gleam again, the same shine from that river. “It looked creepy, y’know? You just staring at them talk shit, then causing a literal storm.”

A terse exhale rushes through your chest, bottom lip catching between your teeth. You look away from him, not too sure what to say in response. Still, he continues. 

“It's the first time someone did something like that for me.”

Spine shooting straight, you turn towards his humourless grin with an appalled slack of your features. “You’re great, why wouldn’t I?” 

“You’re way more successful than most heroes at your age, so what even gives people like them the right to say all that? Being lawless and confident are two different things, but clearly they think it's the same since they’re the unruly ones!”

“I’d be stupid to just sit there and watch you be slandered,” 

You realise now that your outburst may have been a bit much for someone who has seemingly heard it all before. Turning your head away, you pointedly ignore the hot flush of your face. Why did you even say all that? Your voice lodges in your throat, only quite able to mutter. 

“I’ll tell the driver to drop you off back home.”

“Wait,” Touya scrambles to stop you, hand outstretched yet quickly retracted when he seems to realise something. With an almost shy lining to his voice, he meets your gaze, “Could I crash at your place? I… don’t really feel like going back there tonight.”

Taking his hand into yours, you place your other hand atop his. His eyes widen as a fond quirk tugs at your lips, softly, you can only hum, “Alright.”

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

The power of money and connections is surely scary if you weren’t the one with exactly those two things. Those Sato’s, whoever they were, were thoroughly dragged through the mud when news came out about their supposed comments towards many well-beloved pro-heroes. Though certainly not all of them were what was told to you (you  most definitely do not remember them saying that All Might was an overly mutinous attention seeker with a penchant for property destruction), Hiroomi has handled so wonderfully that everyone was more focused on the embezzlement they’ve been allegedly committing rather than the fact that people most definitely saw you leaving the hall with Touya in tow. 

Other than that, you still haven’t received any other notification from the system besides the one stupid objective you still have no idea about. 

‘Always with Me’

For the past four years, there has been no detail on how to complete it, what it's about or even your progress on it. Everytime you ask, the system merely pings with a, 

[User is in the middle of Objective: Always with Me]

Which is very helpful, thank you very much. 

Beyond that, you’ve kinda given up on the system and with no other objectives or even side quests in sight, you’ve resigned yourself to your peaceful life. After all, you’ve managed to convince the entire household that you wouldn’t be staying over during the breaks with Shouto’s induction into high school, which again you’re impressed that he still wanted to be a hero, so you suppose the plot didn’t get that messed up. 

Regardless, that was not the point. With your residence’s move, you’ve now been the host to many a Todoroki family member. At first, it was just Touya, who, since that night, would crash at your place almost every week when he didn’t particularly feel like going back nor returning to his apartment. Then it was eventually Fuyumi who’d drop by to visit, and before you knew it, you’ve hosted sukiyaki night in your place for some god knows reason beyond the system hates you. 

With winter rolling around, you find the eldest knocking on your door a lot more often. You’ve started keeping spare clothes in the guest room, extra shampoo, soap, toothbrush and toothpaste, in response. Sometimes you’ll even find jackets or sweatshirts left behind. You always wash them when you do, folding them up to be brought back after his next visit.

You’re not sure why he’s started doing so, but you’re happy your place can at least be some kind of refuge. 

It’s weird, you find. At every turn, there’s some part of him left behind. Spare support equipment placed by the door in a basket, his tie from last week’s gala, the mug on the drying rack that constantly smells like bitter coffee, a tupperware of leftovers from the night before from when he helped you (he cut the onions and watched you do everything else like a hawk). It's weird, you don’t hate the lingering presence. 

Tonight, your doorbell rings around ten, and you don’t even have to look through the peephole to check. Not bothering to throw anything above your pyjamas, you open the door to Touya. The night wind howls, rattling the few branches against your windows, and yet he remains without even a scarf. He remains outside, head slightly bowed and expression unreadable. 

You muse, your eyes softening when you notice the languid weariness in his form, “Get in before you freeze to death out there.”

With a slight shift, he obliges, knocking off his shoes before promptly collapsing on your couch. By the time you return, he’s already grabbed a pillow of yours to throw over his head, pointedly taking in a deep huff as the light from your television illuminates the dark room. You’d been watching some slice of life romantic comedy set in a modern setting, with just an episode left until the big confession. It was a remarkably interesting sight, you could only think to yourself, with over-the-top sound effects, cheesy music and cutesy lighting, Touya almost looked like he was being held captive to watch something as simple as a romcom. 

Heading to the kitchen, you pour out a warm cup of water and place it in front of him on the table. Your spot on the couch is untouched, still a bit warm with a slight indent. You can feel some part of his natural warmth, yet you curl into yourself, bringing your knees to your chest as you bring your once abandoned blanket tighter around you. He still hasn’t touched his cup, but the pillow he used to try and blind himself is now pressed against his stomach. There is something uncharacteristic about him today, his jaw set and a vapid look in his eyes. That and the foot tapping against your wooden floors. 

With a soft breath, you glance over at him, “Is there something wrong?”

“Why do you think there’s something wrong?” He remarks, quick to respond.

“You’re tapping your foot.” The moment you mention that, he stops. With a mock eye roll, you murmur, “Also you don’t come by so late unless there’s something wrong.

“Just couldn’t sleep.”

At that, you don’t push anymore. It wouldn't be the first time. He’d come over in the late hours and the two of you would just sit on the couch watching whatever show was on prior to his arrival. Sometimes he’d watch you make a pot of instant noodles, or offer to warm up your hands when it got cold. You could tell there was something up on those days, but it was always the same excuse, his gaze often alternating between glancing at the screen or staring off in your direction.

Still, your eyes pointedly look at the cup and he takes a long sip just to appease you. Raising a brow, you meet his gaze with a piqued quirk of your lips. Your eyes shift back to your show, absentmindedly patting your hand along with the catchy intro song. The scenes shift and it returns to the two main leads, having accidentally found themselves in co-inhabitation and are now sitting outside their patio. 

The music swells again as the soft harp strums, soft moonlight shining upon them and reflecting a blue-ish hue onto his visage. You thought he wasn’t watching, but his eyes remain on the screen, following along every small movement. The main lead, glances over at their partner, and blurts out their confession. So unlike the original notion for a well thought out, heart-felt confession, it mattered little. The music continues. 

Out of the blue, he jeers, lip slightly curled, “Do people really watch stuff like this?”

“I’m watching it,” You hum.

As the outro theme starts playing, you mindlessly move onto the next episode. “Besides, it's cute. They’re just living their lives and finding love while they’re at it.”

“Sounds boring.”

“That’s how love is, you don’t just have a big epiphany and an even bigger confession.”

The next episode plays, and there’s still this complicated look on his face. You can tell he doesn’t quite believe you, and a yet small breath of amusement escapes you. A sponsored ad pops up, Best Jeanist flashing across your screen in, you guessed it, jeans. An odd thought passes through your head as it shifts to pricing. 

“One day, I’m going to find out you’re casted for a show like this one, then you’ll see,” Your voice comes off as sing-songedly despite the lowered volume, there’s an amused smile on your lips. 

Touya replies simply, a doubtful grin on his face as he glances at you, “You’re awfully confident that it’ll happen.”

“When you have the kind of looks you do, it's bound to happen.”

“And what kind of looks do I have?” With a raised brow, his voice lowers. And if you hadn’t known him for as long as you do, you wouldn’t have caught the way his smirk faltered. 

You meet his gaze, and once again, you truly wonder how Rei’s genetics can be so strong. Touya was, is, the prettiest man you’ve seen in your decade of living. You’ve said it so many times but it still never fails to surprise you. Even with your system assigned debuff (myopia), you still admired him. Long lashes that curtained the most beautiful turquoise eyes, eyes that betray his emotions, bright and so, so full of life. He had the kind of features that just melded well, already flawless on their own but even more so together despite the brusque additions. His natural resting face was pretty as well, and even when he sneered or made those ugly faces, he was still pretty. 

And when he started carrying himself with that confidence, this assertiveness that you could not possibly describe as anything beyond engaging, you couldn’t take your eyes off of him. It felt impossible to you, to even fathom the idea of not looking at him, beholding him. 

You wonder when you started doing that, when you started looking at him like he was the only person in the world. 

A huff escapes you as a blithe smile pulls at your lips, “You’re arguably the prettiest person I’ve ever seen, surely someone’s told you that.”

In your mental spiel, you noticed that you’re now thigh to thigh, shoulder to shoulder. He only huffs in response, the corner of his lip quirking ever upward. He’s warm. 

“Not the most handsome?”

“Sure, that too.”

The scene starts, and it's still the main couple sitting on the patio. The confession repeats. He isn’t watching the screen anymore. Bathed in the cool lighting, you meet his eyes. They’re all but seeping with warmth, and you realise you’re scared of what it means. 

“I’m in love with you.” He blurts out, voice so soft it was as if he didn’t want you to hear it in the first place. “I don’t know for how long but it's definitely been for a while. It's– the rest of them teased me about it, but I never– I didn’t know how to tell you.”

You blink. He’s looking at you with that guileless hope again, the same glimmer that buckles your knees and convinces you of anything and everything. 

This must be a dream, just a dream where the Todoroki Touya is confessing his love for you. Soon, you’ll wake up and get ready for the day and you’ll get to watch the last few episodes of your show. 

You pinch your arm, and when nothing happens, your eye twitches and fingers tense. 

‘System, what the fuck is going on?’

[User has changed the plot (/▿＼ )]

‘I am very aware of that, I just didn’t think I’D INFLICT AN OEDIPUS COMPLEX ONTO HIM.’

[User has changed the plot (눈_눈)]

This must be some kind of sick joke, in no absolute way could this be happening to you. This couldn’t be happening. This came too out of the blue! There weren't any warning signs! There’s nothing about you that could possibly even connote this! 

Were you not taking the motherly route? Weren’t you being a good role model for the younger generation?

[User is technically in the same generation (＾＾＃)]

‘That’s what you think!’

You haven’t looked away since, still struck with consternation so powerful it rendered you incapable of doing little else than blinking. Your voice lodges in your throat and all you can muster is a breathless noise. This really couldn’t be happening to you, anyone but you. You’re too old, this isn’t love, it isn’t love on his end. 

“I’m five years older than you, I basically watched you grow up. Don’t you find that weird?” Weakly proposing, your words are shaky and your voice even more so despite your attempt to keep it steady. You’ve done this before, made the big speeches when your heart wanted nothing but to run out of your ribs, did it to Endeavour of all people! So why was it that you couldn’t find that voice now? 

He draws in a sharp, choked breath, “You say you watched me grow up as if you’re some old timer, you’re not that old, y’know?”

“You realise that mom and– the old man, only listened to you and took so much pity on you at first because they thought you were some random teen with no one?” Touya doesn’t give you a chance to butt in, he knows, of course he knows how’d you react.

“That’s why mom kept trying to include you in everything, she kept worrying that you were going home to an empty place with no family.”

You were eighteen. You don’t even think Japan counted eighteen as a teenager anymore.    

You should’ve pulled away, you shouldn’t have let yourself get as attached as you are now. If you had just been a little bit smarter, used your brain rather than let yourself get carried away, he– you– wouldn’t be here. 

“I was still eighteen and though we technically only really met when you were sixteen, does it really matter if you were mentally thirteen? Not only that, but I’ve been meddling with your family for all that time. If someone accused me of grooming you, do you think I’d have any proof against it?”  You breathe deeply, trying to gather what little composure you had left.

“Everything lines up too well. Wouldn’t it be too coincidental? Some rando saves a thirteen year old and ten years later, they’re dating.”

You do love him, you just can’t accept the circumstances that could have possibly birthed that love. 

Shaking your head, you cover your face with your hands, “It’s not that I don’t, I do— I really do. But there’s too much between us.”

Perhaps that was your biggest shame, your most repugnant disrepute to your already crumbling facade. It never started this way, you don’t know when your own affection for him turned into this, you just remember waking up and seeing him in your kitchen, hunched over a cup of tea while his own coffee grew cold, thinking to yourself that you liked this. You liked seeing him content, liked seeing him comfortable in his own skin and place in this world. You wanted to keep that sight, that idea of him forever.

But if there was anything that has remained from that canon timeline, a feature that remains ubiquitous, it was that Touya wasn’t some idiot, never has been, and he knows more intimately than anyone what your hesitation looks like.

“Don’t I get a say in this?” He retorts, and you look at him, startled. “I get what you’re saying but do you know what you did? You literally– and I still don’t know how, forced my family to heal. You kept giving me all these opportunities, even when no one else seemed to understand, you didn’t try to isolate me or control me!”

“The rest of them told me everything when I woke up, they told me everything you did for us. He told me too, said you helped him realise.”

“You didn’t even know me, all you had were bits of my childhood but you still went and changed everything,” Running a hand through his hair, he laughs with a sardonic bite, and yet still that look in his eyes wrenches something inside you.

Touya continues, a wry grin on his face, “And fuck– it always felt like some bad game trying to even be in the same room with you alone back then!”

“I could barely even think when I saw you in the kitchen that one summer! Do you know how sick I felt when I went back to my room after that day?”

Your brain flashes to that summer day, stretching from fatigue and sweating from heat, now trying to not think too hard about every time he’d come too close. 

“It took all of them so long, but you didn’t.” He admits quietly, and for once he’s not looking at you. Yet that is only for a moment, and that glimmer, that shine in those eyes you want so desperately to protect, flares into a radiant gleam. There’s the slightest sheen pooling at his waterline, his voice so soft you’re scared, “So I don’t care if some brainless nobody thinks you’ve manipulated me, because you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to all of us.”

You want to hold him, your hands want to reach out to wipe away the hint of tears from his face. You don’t stop yourself, shifting closer as you thumb away warm dew from his lashes. He blinks, almost confused at your sudden contact, but quickly realises your intentions. 

You manage to choke out, “When I was in the hospital, I had a dream about what would’ve happened if I just let the situation fester.”

“I didn’t want that to happen to you,” With a trembling sigh bordering a sob, you force yourself to continue, “You deserved to be happy with a family who loves you.”

“So that’s why I did everything that I did. Because I promised myself to make everything better for you when you woke up.”

His eyes widen, brows raised high as you indirectly confess to your knowledge of that long gone dream. 

“After you woke up, I thought my role in your lives was over, yet here we are,” A small humourless laugh escapes your lips, your eyes unwaveringly meeting his. 

It was stupid, god it's always been so stupid to be attached to fictional characters. Yet perhaps attachment is not the best word to describe what you felt. Attachment would deride some form of obsession, but what you felt, what you desired was only his happiness and peace. 

Was it still not a kind of love? Inherently, to love meant to choose, and did you not do that? Learned everything you could, collected everything you could, were these actions not one you made out of your own conscience?

 Did you dive into fiery hell to save him in the hopes of being paid back? Did you jumpstart the Todoroki Family’s recovery for some vain desire? Did you remain so active in their lives just for a chance for compensation? 

You didn’t, because making those choices came to you as natural as the choice to live. And in the process of choosing, loving, you ended up here.

You have always loved him, from the vapid admiration and heartache from behind the screen, to the desperation to save that lost boy by the river and to create a better world for him, to the quiet contentment with his presence. It is one that has evolved with your ever enclosing distance, one that has somehow remained simple and honest. 

And in an odd way, your choice to love unconditionally has brought you back to the person who started it all. 

You have no doubt that even if you were faced with that version of him, you would have still loved him even if it killed you. 

“I have always loved you, Touya. Not always in the way you want, but I have always loved you.”

With one last shaky sigh, you finally speak, “For far longer than you have known.”

Just as the words leave your mouth, you’re wrapped into a tight embrace. His arms wrap around you and it's so tight you’d think you were close to dying. You can feel his heartbeat, and you’re certain he can feel yours too, a rhythmic constant thumping with that fervour for life. 

“You’re so stupid,” He murmurs, warm breath by your ears. “I never forgot our promise, so why didn’t you tell me?”

He’s warm, he’s so warm. You wouldn’t care if holding onto him set you ablaze. 

You are stupid. You are stupid for sleeping through your electric blanket cooking you alive, stupid for diving into flames just to save a child, stupid for letting literal children con you, stupid for flirting while being held hostage. 

You’re stupid for loving Todoroki Touya so much you’d create a better world for him. 

When you pull away, the miffed affection on his face, one still struggling to make itself completely known, pulls a shaky smile from your lips. You chuckle, “Because I am.”

[!Objective Complete: Always with Me!]

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

“Y’know, your boss is probably going to call me a cougar when I see her again.”

Having been manhandled to the point of laying on his arm, you sigh as a different romcom starts on the television screen. With every single little thing that could possibly be related spilled out, you let yourself accept the physical contact, a notion that Touya clearly has taken the mile with. Your hands were currently being occupied by his but with how much you’ve been struggling with the cold, you couldn’t care less.  

He huffs, clearly and genuinely not too bothered by the idea, “And? Who cares what she thinks?”

“We’re about the same age,” Quick to counter, Touya doesn’t seem all too bothered by the correlation you make. 

You still wonder how he has no reservations but you’ve long become accustomed to his stubbornness by now. His fingers intertwined yours, rough pads rubbing against the skin of your knuckles. He isn’t watching the show, seemingly more interested in memorising your hand by touch by the looks of it. 

Absent-mindedly, he suddenly brings up something you haven’t thought about in a long time. His voice is soft, a bit more delicate, “Your parents are gone, aren’t they?” 

Though it's been a while since you’ve actually thought about your parents, if you could really call them that, you've come to associate Hiroomi more with the idea of parental care after all these years. He certainly wasn’t the worst at it, and if your own associations and analysis were true, your parents did actually fuck right back off to heaven. 

Without blinking, you feel his hand grip onto yours tighter as you hum, “Mhm, they’re back to where we came from.”

“That’s an awfully nice way to say they’re dead, doll,” The corner of his lips tug up, a brazen look in those crystalline eyes. 

Your brow raises as you send him a side-long glance, “I'm doll now?”

“Like those ones with spirits in them, pretty but clearly possessed.”

“No wonder the cockroach just charges at you.”

You reach for your phone, the soft light of your wallpaper (a photo you’d taken during one sukiyaki night with only Fuyumi having noticed the camera) briefly illuminating your face as you pull up the tab detailing the Yoshikawa family history, more specifically the ‘conspiracy’ tab of the article. Warm fingers brush against your still cold hands to receive your offer. 

He doesn’t take long to make the connections nor the associated implications, and though you thought he’d question the plausibility, he doesn’t. Rather, he takes a long hard look at you then back at your phone, his brow raises as a doubtful grimace manifests on his face. 

“You sure you haven’t gone senile? No way that shit is real,” His voice all but seeps with disbelief, still wearing the expression with pride.

Rolling your eyes, you take your phone back. “Ha ha ha, and you just said I’m ‘not that old’.”

“If it wasn’t, how did we see each other after being sent to literal comas ten years ago?”

“True, but if all that really exists, then it’d be kinda shitty,” He only murmurs beneath his breath, eyes lowered on your hands as his lashes flutter.  

“It is but maybe we don’t need them,” The reassurance is instinctual, yet not so. You have no doubt that the sheer will and spite to live, the kindness and courage that only humanity seems capable of completely sets them apart from almighty fickle kami. With a slightly mirthful tone, your voice lilts, “Who knows? Maybe some god will curse your dad with forever burning himself whenever he touches a hot leather seat.”

“Now that’s romantic.”

Raising a brow, you throw him a side glance.“If you’re implying that I curse Endeavour, you’re going to be very disappointed to know I can’t do that.”

“Here I thought you were all powerful.” With a teasing lilt in his voice, he grins. “Some ryu you are.”

You kind of regret telling him about that now. 

“I’ll put a small rain cloud over him when we see him next,” With mock vexation, you bark back with a smile. 

He grins, “Now I can’t not love you.”

Though you smile, your eyes seek his as your fingers press into his hand. “Do you actually believe me though?”

“Your entire family can change into dragons and control the weather, I don’t think the existence of heaven is going to be any weirder.”

That pulls an actual huff of laughter, and with your phone forgotten, Touya all but puffs his chest in pride at this, a smug gleam in his eyes as your fingers finally reciprocate his hold. Another advertisement pops up, some All Might merchandise they probably just slapped his face on. It's so bright that your entire living room is bathed in warm yellow. His entire face scrunches at this, as though he’s eaten an entire lemon rather than seeing the star spangled wonder. 

At this, he grumbles, “Y’know, Zenko made me watch you say all those horrible pick-up lines at All Might.”

You have to fight the urge to cry, or at the very least to shove your face into your hands. “That was two years ago, can’t we just forget about it?”

“Nah, why does All Might get that but not me?” There’s a hint of a pout, one barely noticeable to anyone else.

“Because I’m not only going to see you once in my entire life,” Your response is curt, partly because you didn’t want to even look back to that moment, partly because you also have no idea.  

Still, he insists with an absolutely winning grin, “Come on, tell me one.”

With a heavy sigh, you wrack your brain trying to think of one. You couldn’t just tell him that you memorised those pick-up lines because they were horrible, more specifically that they weren’t even yours. It takes you more than a while to think of one and when you do, you already want to crawl into the ground when it actually leaves your mouth. 

“Are you a kotatsu? Because I wanna crawl underneath you and never get out.”

For all your efforts, you’re rewarded with a choked noise and an abrupt head turn away from you. The tips of his ears flush pink despite his valiant attempts at hiding away from you. Something inside you wants so desperately to see, something tells you that he’d be more than cute. 

“That was horrible.”

You muse incredulously, “Then why’re you looking away from me?”

You clamour to catch that sight while he only shifts away, still you don’t give up, going so far as to climb over him just so he wouldn’t hide from your gaze. It only takes a few more moments of wriggling before the both of you come to the realisation of your not so innocuous position, your chest pressed to his with nothing but a fingertip’s distance between you, a soft breath escapes as you meet his gaze, both your faces flushing hot. 

You were right, he is cute like this. With a subtle blush on his cheeks travelling all the way to his ears, and his slightly widened eyes, you wish you could take a photo of him right now. 

It's as though you’re locked, unable to move, yet you don’t quite mind. You blink still, unsure of what to do next. His eyes flutter down to your lips for a moment. Clearly one of you is much more ardent than the other, a larger hand cupping your face, until eventually your lips meet. By no means is it good, messy and with misplaced teeth clacking against the other, god knows you haven't even held hands before let alone kissed someone, but it's genuine, it's real and you want him to keep kissing you like this. His lips against yours, gentle and tentative and filled with the affection you never thought you’d ever have in your two lives. 

As the winter wind hums and rain gently pitter patters, there are only the two of you in this little world, one made just for you. 

The system pings one last time.

[!User 888 has completed all relevant objectives!]

[User 888 has unlocked: Chat function]

[There are currently: 5 users in My Hero Academia world 178]

[Would user like to start chat?]

[sterek-ao3feed]

Guess Who’s Legal?

Read it on AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/59558965

by sourw0lfhale

Stiles Stilinski has always had a plan, and this time, it's to ask Derek Hale out on his eighteenth birthday. He's had countless opportunities, but every time, the words get caught in his throat.

That is, until the pack steps in, encouraging him to finally make his move on the night of his birthday. Nervous but determined, Stiles goes for it, and it turns out to be the best decision he's ever made.

Everything changes, and from that moment on, his life with Derek only gets better-he wouldn't have it any other way.

✨ stiles is obviously 18 & derek is 21 in this fic ✨

Words: 5295, Chapters: 6/14, Language: English

Fandoms: Teen Wolf (TV)

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: F/F, F/M, M/M

Characters: Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale, Liam Dunbar, Theo Raeken, Allison Argent, Scott McCall (Teen Wolf), Ethan (Teen Wolf), Jackson Whittemore, Malia Tate, Kira Yukimura, Lydia Martin, Jordan Parrish, Vernon Boyd, Erica Reyes, Isaac Lahey, Peter Hale, Sheriff Stilinski (Teen Wolf)

Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Liam Dunbar/Theo Raeken, Allison Argent/Scott McCall, Ethan/Jackson Whittemore, Malia Tate/Kira Yukimura, Lydia Martin/Jordan Parrish, Vernon Boyd/Erica Reyes

Additional Tags: Peter ships Sterek, noah ships sterek, Scott is a Good Friend, Derek Hale is a Softie, Jackson is a Good Friend

https://archiveofourown.org/works/59558965

[firstprince-ao3feed]

make me baby make me know you really care

by starmanfox Alex feels like he might lose his mind. What had started as a hot experiment requested by Henry was slowly driving him crazy. He might be exaggerating just a bit. But the thing is, they’ve been very frequently intimate since the beginning of their relationship. Even when they are apart, they easily find ways to fulfill their needs. So, when Henry brought up the idea of not doing anything for a week, Alex was caught off guard and didn’t know what to say. or, Alex and Henry try something new and Alex gets what he wants in the end. Words: 5295, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: Red White & Royal Blue (2023), Red White & Royal Blue - Casey McQuiston Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: M/M Characters: Alex Claremont-Diaz, Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor Relationships: Alex Claremont-Diaz/Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor Additional Tags: Top Alex Claremont-Diaz, Bottom Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor, Explicit Sexual Content, Sexual Experimentation, Accidental Voyeurism, pillow humping, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Riding via https://ift.tt/fd3Y5Ww

[ao3feed-jonmartin]

A Wedding

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/Pc8XGp0 by WonkyElk “Wait, wait … this isn’t the Gertrude Robinson, is it? Dr ‘Ice Cold in Oxford’?” “I strongly suggest you don’t address her as such at the wedding, but … yes. That would be the one.” Gertrude gets married, Jon and Martin are goofy for each other and Jurgen Leitner is also there. Words: 5295, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: The Magnus Archives (Podcast) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: F/M, M/M Characters: Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Martin Blackwood, Gertrude Robinson, Jurgen Leitner, Adelard Dekker Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Adelard Dekker/Gertrude Robinson, Jurgen Leitner/Gertrude Robinson Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Fluff and Angst, No fears AU, Established Relationship, Falling In Love, Dysfunctional Family, POV Alternating read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/Pc8XGp0

[ageless-soul-au]

FACTION - XI. ASHES

Rating: Mature

Category: M/M, Multi

Words: 5295/62,266

Chapter Summary:

His home and the core of his heart had all gone up in smoke.

Welcome to the last chapter we're uploading before Faction goes on hiatus! We hope you enjoy the pain.

MAJOR SPOILERS FOR MAINLINE ASAU, so read at your own risk. And shhhhhh, it's a secret to everyone!

Reblogs/comments/kudos much appreciated!!! Especially with the hiatus lol

[ao3feed-bnha-rarepair]

Freefall into Me

Freefall Into Me by Maxine

Bakugou is eighteen when he decides it's about time to deal with that whole dumb virginity thing.

He's twenty-three when Kaminari finds out about it.

It doesn't go the way he was expecting. But when does it ever?

Words: 5295, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Fandoms: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia (Anime & Manga)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: Bakugou Katsuki, Kaminari Denki, Sero Hanta, Kirishima Eijirou, Midoriya Izuku

Relationships: Bakugou Katsuki/Kaminari Denki

Additional Tags: Characters Are Pro Heroes, Oblivious Bakugou Katsuki, Bisexual Disaster Kaminari Denki, Past Baku/Sero, Bakusquad, Getting Together, Friends to Lovers, Friends to Idiots In Love

Read Here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/45430018

[ao3feed-bakusquad]

Freefall into Me

Freefall Into Me by Maxine

Bakugou is eighteen when he decides it's about time to deal with that whole dumb virginity thing.

He's twenty-three when Kaminari finds out about it.

It doesn't go the way he was expecting. But when does it ever?

Words: 5295, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Fandoms: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia (Anime & Manga)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: Bakugou Katsuki, Kaminari Denki, Sero Hanta, Kirishima Eijirou, Midoriya Izuku

Relationships: Bakugou Katsuki/Kaminari Denki

Additional Tags: Characters Are Pro Heroes, Oblivious Bakugou Katsuki, Bisexual Disaster Kaminari Denki, Past Baku/Sero, Bakusquad, Getting Together, Friends to Lovers, Friends to Idiots In Love

Read Here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/45430018

[ao3feed-brucewayne]

The Coming of the Season

by SalParadiseLost He barely remembers a time before them.   Perhaps, if he had planned, better, he would have lengthened the time between him and them. He would have given himself more time to develop before he began developing them. He would have recognised that he was the one in a fetal state, new to the world with bleary eyes that could be blinded by ‘what if’s, and not been so taken by the idea of another.   Maybe, if he had waited, he would have terminated and snuffed out that flame before it really caught. Maybe he should have. Maybe he should have seen the ridiculousness of him, fifteen and only in his first heat season, carrying a child.   -- Bruce had his first child at fifteen, his second was at twenty and his third was at twenty-four. They are an unconventional family, but a family all the same. Words: 5295, Chapters: 1/3, Language: English Fandoms: Batman - All Media Types Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: Gen, M/M, Multi Characters: Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake, Harvey Dent, Janet Drake, Jack Drake Relationships: Dick Grayson & Bruce Wayne, Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake & Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake & Dick Grayson & Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne, Harvey Dent/Bruce Wayne, Janet Drake/Bruce Wayne, Jack Drake/Bruce Wayne, Jack Drake/Janet Drake/Bruce Wayne Additional Tags: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Pregnancy, Unplanned Pregnancy, Teen Pregnancy, Mpreg, Bruce Wayne is Tim Drake's Biological Parent, Bruce Wayne is Dick Grayson's Biological Parent, Bruce Wayne is Jason Todd's Biological Parent, He got pregnant with all of them, Omega Bruce Wayne, Omega Dick Grayson, Beta Jason Todd, Alpha Tim Drake, Needlessly thorough explanation of omegaverse lore and worldbuilding, Past Harvey Dent/Bruce Wayne, They are extremely divorced, Alpha Harvey Dent, Harvey Dent is Jason Todd's Parent, Past Janet Drake/Jack Drake/Bruce Wayne, Scenting, Platonic Cuddling, Good Parent Bruce Wayne, Bruce Wayne Needs a Hug, God he really does, Male Lactation, Protective Bruce Wayne via https://ift.tt/gxVLqiF

[ao3feed-stevebucky]

On the Existence of Robots

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/aA6L0dh

by AnOctoberPepper

It’s unclear what’s wrong; Tony is sick, and Bucky’s arm is glitching, and more important than all of that is that Clint is not okay. The archer’s had bad days and weird days and days when they don’t see him at all, but when he rips the wires from his walls and lets loose an aqua-arrow into his ceiling, the avengers have to do something.

Or the one where Clint is losing it and we learn whether or not Captain America would punch a neo nazi.

Words: 5295, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: Clint Barton, Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Steve Rogers, Tony Stark, Bruce Banner, Sam Wilson (Marvel)

Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, Clint Barton & Tony Stark, Clint Barton & Sam Wilson, Clint Barton & Natasha Romanov

Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Suicidal Thoughts, Self-Harm, Schizophrenia, Mental Health Issues, general content warning for the existence of conservatives, Family, Avengers Family, It's really okay in the end, punch a nazi, Delusions, Clint Barton Needs a Hug, Emotional Hurt/Comfort

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/aA6L0dh

[ao3feed-tolkien]

Cultural Misunderstandings

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/mhSgB6z

by celebrimbor-telperiquar (damnbert)

After stumbling across what seems to be a casual (albeit secret) coupling in the woods, Finrod’s eyes are once again opened to the outgoing cultures of the Edain and possibilities he hadn’t allowed himself to consider in the past.

Words: 5295, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien, TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: Bëor the Old, Finrod Felagund | Findaráto, Original Characters

Relationships: Bëor the Old/Finrod Felagund | Findaráto

Additional Tags: Accidental Voyeurism, Cultural Differences, Infidelity, not main pairing dw, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Misunderstandings, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Angst, Self-Loathing, Casual Sex, mentioned - Freeform

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/mhSgB6z

[gostaks]

Final Talks Machina Q&A summary

This was my best attempt to summarize everything live so please forgive any abbreviations, spelling errors, etc. Also warning this is long

Underdark

Q: why did clarota turn on the party?

A: he wanted to be connected to the elder brain again

Q: Why was Percy flashing his name around knowing that the briarwoods were out there?

A: Tal: percy spent most of the game in an intense nervous breakdown and was flashing around his name in an attempt to bring some attention

Q: what did pike do during her time off sailing?

A:She wanted to become stronger and spent a lot of time doing "simple boat work"

Q: why was percy crafting bullets while vex never crafted arrows?

A: the party bought about 1,000 arrows before the stream and they were so cheap that Matt just stopped worrying about it

Q: What moment made Vax start having feeling for Kiki?

A: Liam's not entirely sure but he thinks it might have been the whisper. He knew Vax had the crush for a while and wasn't thinking about leaving any hints and was planning to wait longer, but the Briarwoods forced it out

Q: What about Grog's Mother?

A: Grog never really had a family except his dad Stonejaw and the herd so he never really figured out who his mother was

Q: Who took out the contract on the Rakshasa?

A: One of the members of the Arcana Pansophicle (sp?) (Allura and Drake are members) who was working on a portal to the 9 hells and needed demon parts and didn't know or care about the cycle of vengeance

Q: Did Matt plan to have Kima and Allura to hook up from the beginning?

A: that was part of their originally planned past history and the reunion at the beginning of the stream sparked their rekindling their relationship

Q: Is there a story behind Keyleth's antlers?

A: She had a circled that was one of the last things she'd brought with her from the Ashari/her mother and Kit Buss drew her with antlers (she also added a lot of little things like Vex's feathers)

Q: What would have happened if they had made a better relationship with the Thunderbrands?

A: They would have had a whole story with a lost relative and might have sent a spellcaster along with VM into the Underdark

Q: How did a sphinx end up beneath Vasselheim?

A: There are lots of followers of Ioun and they're big on disseminating knowledge so when Ioun was wounded they (including Osisa) went into hiding and now end up as whistleblowers because if you're public about following Ioun it's dangerous. Osisa is the heart of a communication network centering around the slayer's take and vasselheim

Q: Where was the second Horn of Orcus?

A: Matt's not telling because it might end up in the next campaign along with a bunch of artifacts and vestiges

Briarwoods

Q: what was Assum's plan to investigate the Briarwoods?

A: He wanted to figure out if they had the political power to actually be in charge of the bridge and either prove they were trustworthy or catch them in a lie

Q: When travis broke the pencil how close was he to murdering liam? grog to vax?

A: Travis says mechanical pencils bend really well to anger and Grog went on a long prank streak. Liam didn't realize how angry Travis was about the beard-shaving incident

Q: Who was the woman who Percy saw in his nat 20 on the sun tree?

A: She was a hunter and she could have given them info about current political situation or ratted them out to the briarwoods

Q: What did Liam think when the briarwoods killed vax?

A: he thought he was out and it was time to vomit out his monologue of thoughts before he left the game

Q: What tipped Sam off that Percy's gun needed to be destroyed

A: He did crazy shit while using it and he was doing weird marking-off stuff. Scanlan wasn't very wise so it took a long time. Also Tal was really shocked and dismayed when Scanlan destroyed the gun. The gun was priceless and impossible to recreate. Matt: the only way to free percy was to destroy the gun or kill orthax

Q: Is Matt keeping track of stuff that happens to VM to tie into the next campaign?

A: Matt doesn't want to tie in the campaigns too much but VM's choices will effect the next campaign

Q: How much of sylas and delilah's arc was Tal's notes and how much was Matt?

A: Tal's notes only included what Percy knew (almost nothing) and Matt added the rest. Delilah was a lesser mage at some academy in Dwindal (sp?) and Sylas got sick so she went on a quest to find a cure and by the time she did he was dead. She got really angry and Vecna started talking to her in her dreams and slowly led her to one of his laboratories and found the rites of vampirism for a price. Necromancy is illegal in Dwindal so they were chased out, met Ripley near Taldorei and started working on Whitestone

Q: Did vex have feelings for Percy during this arc?

A: Darling take the mask off was definitely a thing + vex finds edginess attractive. Percy didn't know the voice in his head was real, he was in the middle of a nervous breakdown and didn't connect that orthax was real until the briarwood arc. Orthax didn't manifest until the moment of possible vengeance.

Q: Would kiki have left if VM had continued to kill without morals?

A: Yes, Keyleth would have left to continue her aramente and Marisha would have rolled a new character

Q: What would have happened if they'd left Ripley in the cell?

A: Ripley would have tried to escape or once they'd defeated the Briarwoods she would have tried to manipulate VM into letting her out so she could abscond with VM's stuff

Q: What happened to the bodies of the de rolos?

A: The briarwoods needed to instill fear to continue their rule, they murdered the family and left them in public, hanging from the sun tree

Q: Is pike's astral projection a sign that she's special to Sarenrae?

A: Ashley would like to think so but mostly it's because she lives across the country and she's thankful that Matt found a way for her to participate. Also she did help bring sarenrae back to vasselheim so she is special

Q: What would have happened if delilah's ritual succeeded?

A: She did. She didn't expect the siphon and thought she failed but they succeeded entirely. VM might have discovered that it was successful if they'd really dug in but when she resurrected Vecna started to whisper and prepare her for the next siphon

Q: What did Travis expect from the sword when he read the card?

A: Travis didn't know what a sentient weapon was and Grog really enjoyed having a new friend who talked to him and helped him stab things (it worked out great)

Q: How did Matt intend for VM to escape the acid chamber?

A: They could have focused on the residuum wall or the acid spouts or waited until the briarwoods left and fiddled with the buttons

Q: What would Scanlan have done differently if he had known about his daughter before Kaylie confronted him?

A: Not have tried to get with her. He would have run away and tried to avoid her

Q: Who was the final barrel on the list meant for?

A: Tal thinks it's disappointing, it was his way of saying that the list wasn't the end and that the list would be an unending cycle of awful. He was planning to start a new six-person list to kill. Percy knew what he was doing when he built the gun, he expected everything to go horribly wrong and be responsible for thousands of deaths in his lifetime

Q: How did vex get vax's snake belt back?

A: Vex flirted with the guards, there was a lot of winking involved

Q: If he had failed the saving throw would Percy have been forced to kill cass? would she appear on the gun?

A: Yes, it was designed to be a crux moment that showed Percy what what he'd done

Q: What would have happened to Percy if he had killed everyone on the list?

A: Six more names would have appeared (Tal: thank you). Percy wouldn't have blinked

Q: Is this arc where Kiki began to realize she could be a leader?

A: No, she was still super self-loathing and dealing with a lot of insecurity. Keyleth didn't fully believe it until she got the mantle. One of the bigger turning points was the kracken fight.

Marisha Q: If she hadn't rolled a nat 20 what would have happened to Kiki when she stuck her hand in the siphon?

A: Keyleth would have spagettified, took a shitload of damage, and ended up in the shadowfell on the outskirts of thar amphala. It would have changed the game quite a bit. If Keyleth had died they would probably have fought her when they finally got to thar amphala

Chroma Conclave

Q: Did matt plan who would die when the conclave attacked or just roll dice?

A: He planned the soverign would die to transition to the council and shock the players. He also planned out which council members would have been on the front lines

Q: Would Vax have left if the conclave hadn't attacked?

A: He wouldn't have left without Vex but Liam's not sure whether he would have left. Vex would have fought but left with him if he convinced her

Q: Did the conclave attack because VM messed with the orbs or would they have still attacked?

A: they would have attacked anyway but because they'd messed with the orbs they could recognize VM's faces and put them on Raishan's shitlist

Liam Q: Was Matt planning the conclave during the home game?

A: Yes, and playing once every six weeks it would have happened about now

Q: What was Percy's plan to take out grog in the workshop over the skull?

A: Percy can impose disadvantage on every roll and knows what's in the workshop so he could have used stuff in bottles, set him on fire, and stayed out of the way.

Q: How close was Gilmore to dying before VM found him in his shop?

A: Very close, he wanted them to choose between the treasure that had been taken by looters and Gilmore and if they had gone for the treasure he would have been dead and they would have known that it was their fault he'd died. They were really scared because they hadn't dealt with in-game death before.

Q: What did Vex find under Gilmore's bed?

A: A bunch of love letters between him and his first boyfriend (aww). Matt didn't say the name but it would have been a Markesian (sp?) boy

Q: What could have happened if they'd fucked up Kash's ressurection of Vesh?

A: Vesh is powerful and dangerous. It wouldn't have been too dangerous but it might have caused her to meddle with VM. The deal with the RQ circumvented a lot of Vesh's possible power and the RQ would have overriden Vesh's powers. Vesh isn't really a god

Q: How did Pike feel that getting her armor (the plate of the dawnmartyr) made the difference between Daxio being destroyed or not?

A: Very happy about it. The armor was huge and getting the vestige was a huge part of Pike feeling important in battle and going into the middle knowing she'd be fine.

Q: How did Kevdak get the dragonstone knuckles? What did he want to do besides be a dragon's lackey?

A: He beat the shit out of the previous owner. Kevdak wasn't the leader but the knuckles helped him become the herd leader. He mostly wanted to expand the herd and just took advantage when the dragons disrupted whitestone. He planned to bend Umbrasyl to his will and become some sort of dragon king but Matt doesn't know if it'll ever work out

Q: What was in Senekir's (sp?) box?

A: His wife's ashes, he was being completely honest. Ashley still doesn't believe it

Q: Was Liam intending to multiclass into paladin before the RQ's tomb?

A: Yes, he was forming a relationship with Pike and was pushing towards following Sarenrae. Liam didn't want the armor at first but it was a really heavy thing for him for a while. Now he wouldn't change anything

Liam Q: Was fate-touched always going to be a thing?

A: Matt decided on the fate-touched thing because he knew that Liam was going through a rough time and wanted to give him some light but it made sense for the RQ to latch onto him in the moment

Q: Did travis go into the kevdak fight thinking he could win head-on or did he plan for VM to come in?

A: He didn't know what would go down and it felt good for Grog to face him head-on. If Grog had won solo it would have ended up into some sort of tense diplomatic situation with the herd

Q: When did Laura find out she was assigned a change in alignment and did it change the way she played Vex?

A: Laura doesn't think she deserves it and was planning to give Gern a bunch of dragon scales but he walked away too fast. People wonder why Percy's alignment didn't change, but according to Matt people can have fucked up thoughts it's whether you act on it that matters (thx matt). Matt had been considering the alignment change for a while for a while and the broom sold it

Q: What was in the letter that scanlan gave to pike?

A: Scanlan was super in love with Pike but now he wants Pike to take care of Kaylie if he dies (someone will post the clip on tumblr it's so good I can't transcribe fast enough)

Q: Which vestiges did Matt plan to go to which player?

A: Matt was planning for mythcarver, the knuckles, and the spire to go to who they went to but the other were planned to be mixed around. He didn't know who would take the deathwalker's ward and left the rest for people to take those choices.

Q: What did the party have to say to convince Percy to come back from the dead?

A: Tal had some plans for things he'd ignore like religion, but he was looking for reasons to come back. When Vex dropped the bomb that really convinced him

Q: What was Raishan doing with thordak's corpse?

A: A type of speak with dead that tortures and extracts info from a soul and she wanted the secret to her getting rid of the disease. She sealed VM off, finished the ritual, and went to Opesh's lair. The force wall was just to keep VM off for a bit

Q: what was up with the eggs?

A: Thordak was mutating and becoming something else (side convo: the soul curse was real and she knew that he was telling the truth). The eggs were unexpected. When they soul anchored thordak in the elemental plane he "life finds a way"d some primal elemental dragon eggs. As far as VM knows they got rid of all of the eggs

264 DM facepalms

Break, Guests come on

on screen we have Garthok (jason charles Miller), Tova (Noelle Stevenson), Zahra (ME Mcglynn), Kash (Will not-wheaton), and Sprigg (Darrin Depaul)

Q: What's the big difference between playing on CR and other DnD?

Marry/Will: this was the first game both played and they liked being thrown down into the deep end

Darrin: It's pretty cool + it was cool to play sprigg again

Tova: People actually care about your character

Darrin: When you play at home you don't get fanart

Mary: We're part of a community of positivity, creativity, building

Will: it's like going to a convention and seeing that other people share your interests

Darrin: it's like going home

Jason: it's the aftermath that makes the difference, people care about the characters

Q: Mary/Will what was it like being part of the early episodes vs coming on later?

Mary: the first time was terrifying because I'd never played before, goal was 'don't kill the team'. It felt safe and at home

Will: philosophy was smile, nod, and shift paper around like you know everything. Improv is easy but the rules are confusing

Will and Mary would meet up and work together as players and characters

Darrin: first time on set was when Kash kissed Keyleth

Will: that was when he realized how big the fandom was

Q: What was it like for Jason to play a character who wasn't on the same side as the players?

Jason: I wasn't on the same side but there was an uneasy truce which made things easier

Q: What surprised you the most?

Jason: sitting next to liam and he had the chat open and the chat went wild

Q: What was it like for Noelle to jump into such an intense episode?

Noelle: would have liked to play a shopkeep/shopper but was playing Tova as a burner character. She was trying not to step on too many toes but it was fun to be in the intense scene + Tova canonically survived

yeah he wasn't that memorable

Q: What's more terrifying, coming in at the beginning or waiting?

everyone: waiting

Will: it's the difference between starting at the beginning of the river vs jumping into the rapids. There are times where you know it's okay if you die but it's scary to think you might cause VM's deaths

Mary: Zahra and Kash considered going out in a blaze of glory but bad rolls got them killed

Q: Sprigg's story was really about redemption, what's it like to play a character who lost everything and found Ioun?

Darrin: loves that he got redemption, he planned to be less good but the goodness of VM brought out the goodness in him. "I love playing funny characters who are also tragic"

Noelle wore her nice flannel for her appearance

Q: What's something from your experience on critical role that you'll definitely take with you?

Mary: It's amazing that they're roleplaying but there are amazingly emotional moments like Vex's resurrection and it's great to completely invest yourself in creating a story.

Darrin: This is as special for the players as for the fans

Jason: He was playing a concert and someone yelled "we love you Garthok"

Will: DnD transformed his life and getting to know the cast and the relationships are special

Darrin: Working with Matt was and the moment with Marisha

Tova: the community and the way that people connect through dnd, "it's not just about you and your character, it's contributing to this much wider thing"

Darrin sings a song

Tary

Q: if Scanlan had been revivified during the raishan fight rather than the ritual would he still have left?

A: yes, it was the dying that made him leave. There was a long buildup starting with kaylie that went on for a long time but then he died twice and everything just sorta happened

Q: Could VM have killed the kraken and what would have happened?

A: The lodestones would have unsealed the elemental plane and eventually sunk Vesra. They would have had to find a new kraken to avoid destroying the ecosystem

Q: What would Pike have said if she was there for scanlan's departure?

A: Ashley got into some of it when they met back up with Scanlan. Pike and Grog were really hurt and Ashley as a player missed Scanlan. She doesn't know what would have happened but she thinks she might not have stopped him. Sam: she would have stopped me. Sam's original plan was to go on alone but then Vex suggested hanging with his daughter

Q: what would have happened if Keyleth had failed her aramente?

A: there were no second chances, she would have gotten a place on the council but someone else would have been chosen to take on the aramente. Keyleth could have tapped out at any time

Q: Did exposure to Tary's wealth mellow out her greed?

A: No, getting her own money mellowed her out

Q: What was the plan for Hotis (the rakshasa) if VM hadn't ended him?

A: He would have tried to get Vax, failed because Vax was dead, and turned towards Pike. He would have gone after people Pike cared about

Liam Q: Did Tova live?

A: yes, only because of the ring of invisibility

Q: When was scanlan meant to come back?

A: Sam only expected Tary to last for a couple episodes but everyone fell in love with him so he stuck around. There was no timeline for when scanlan would come back but he spent a long time getting revenge on the dudes from Ank'harel (sp?).

Q: Could VM have used the soul stones from Dis?

A: A quick high or possibly an initiative boost, but not much else. A tiefling might get a slightly stronger effect

Q: there was a moment where it sounded like Percy might have killed scanlan, what would have happened if Vex hadn't intervened?

A: sneak in, cripple him, took all his stuff

Q: Of all the woman that Grog flirted with, was there one who got away?

A: No

Cast Q: What about the nymph

A: no, it was a bit suggestive but grog didn't know what was going on and it was just her bequeathing the heart and Matt trying to make Travis uncomfortable

Q: Were there any small things the group did that weren't revealed?

A: Percy and Vex broke up and got back together, it was quiet and personal. They got married in front of the Sun Tree with Trinket

Q: What were the consequences for being caught at the Theater?

A: If you're caught they find you, take your soul, and make you a member of the Theater. Everyone there was either caught or wandered in

Q: For Percy and Vex who proposed? How? Who knew?

A: Percy and Vex were out on a walk and talking about marriage. They didn't want to be like Vax and Kiki so they just went for it. It was more of a life is short thing. One asked the other as a joke and then it just happened. Maybe Zahra officiated. Tary knew first because he lived with them. Vax was super heartbroken that he wasn't there

Q: Was scanlan close enough to hear Pike with the earring when she talked to him?

A: The range is 1,000 feet so no, but he prayed to Sarenrae quite a bit

Q: How many people found Scanlan during the break but got hit with modify memory?

A: None. Pike and Grog really tried but didn't know where to go or what to look for and they expected Scanlan to still be in Taldorei but he was in Marquet

Tal Q: Did Scanlan ever shoot the gun?

A: Once, during the end episode. He never had cause to shoot the gun. He comissioned a bunch of paintings holding it

Q: If Vax had found out about the wedding before Vecna how would he have reacted, especially after she specifically told him not to marry in secret?

A: He would have asked why. It was a bad time for it to come out but the marriage did come out in the end. It would have been different if Vex hadn't told Vax not to get married.

Q: Did Keyleth ever consider giving the staff back?

A: She considered it but thought it would be more useful with her than in a museum.

Q: Would Ashley have liked to play an evil!Pike if the stories were true?

A: Yeah, it would have been amazing. Ashley didn't know that anything was going to happen but she thinks it would have been fun to play an evil!Pike. The cast was scooby-doo'd

Q: If Sam hadn't convinced Lord Darrington to back down how might that have gone?

A: That would have been the end of the family unit. Tary would have been estranged and his mom would have had to change.  It would have been an opportunity for him to stay with VM longer

Laura Q: Did Matt have plans for the Hag to cash the favor from Vax?

A: Yes, but everything got complicated fast. He figured that the Raven Queen would scare her off a bit

Q: How long did it take for Grog to get angry at Scanlan for leaving? Would he have been mad if Lionel hadn't been a barbarian?

A: He wasn't angy until Scanlan got back. Grog got really jealous and was basically ready to murder him.

Vecna

Q: How many gods could VM have talked to? How many trammels could they have gotten?

A: They went to the gods they thought they could find and they didn't have time. If they had gone to a 4th god vasselheim would have been destroyed + he would have gotten his miracle, 5 would have put Vecna in Taldorei

Q: Why did Scanlan choose to go to Ank'harel? Why did he stay longer than just revenge?

A: It took a long time for him to get revenge on the traveling assholes, and then he got a taste for the crime power. Power tastes like pleather

Q: Was there a moment when Pike's feelings for scanlan began changing?

A: A lot started in the letter. Even in the home games Pike and Scanlan would flirt a bit but she didn't take it very seriously and didn't think he was serious. When he left she realized how much she cared and missed him and when he came back he seemed more mature. It was a slow climb after the letter

Q: Where did Vecna keep his phylactery?

A: Only Matt knows and he's not telling

Q: Did Vex take the name De Rolo after her marriage?

A: Yep

Q: When the knuckles vibrating what were they trying to tell Grog?

A: They were close to where they were built plus the gauntlets could have done extra damage to the titan to slow it down from the inside at the cost of notifying Thar Amphala that they were there

Q: Was Percy troubled by the escape of Sylas?

A: No, he'd transferred a lot of his angst to other people by then and he felt certain that if sylas came back he could take care of it. It was never really about Sylas

Q: Who was the death knight?

A: He was a nameless servant who had been guarding one of Vecna's wildmount laboratories. He was rewarded by becoming a death knight

Q: Is there anyone that Vax wishes he'd had time to say goodbye to before the RQ took him?

A: If he had a week he would have visited his father, Corrin, Gilmore, and Velora. That was his family

Q: Was Keyleth ready to lead her people by the end of the campaign?

A: Yeah, it would have been a learning process but she was ready to move on to the next chapter in her life

Q: Did you know that Sam planned to save Vax with his level 9 spell?

A: He knew that Sam might and gave him some info. When he used that level 9 Matt realized the full ramifications of the decision

Q: Scanlan can do basically everything except bring back Vax, how does he deal with that?

A: He can't reconcile it. He feels like it was an opportunity lost and he failed but he slowly realizes that it's okay to fail and he doesn't have to succeed in everything it's enough to make a difference. He tries to be there for Pike and his kids and he sometimes uses wish to try to get a message to Vax. Vax would never have seen Scanlan's counterspell as a failure.

Q: What was on the other side of the Tower of Entropis?

A: It had a bunch of ancient desicrated holy objects that they had used to learn how to make the seed.

Q: What was Tal originally intending for Percy's ending?

A: He was going to sell his soul and save Vax. He believed that it didn't matter where he went after he died under the assumption that he'd be going something awful anyway. Once doubt crept in everything sort of collapsed. Vax's assumption was that the only way he'd survive is if the RQ let him

Q: Why did Grog seek an education?

A: He just wanted to get smarter

Q: How did Syldor react to Vax's death?

A: Grief. He regrets the way he treated Vex and Vax and spent a lot of his life trying to make up for those mistakes. He's very proud of what the twins do and he's learned a lot about the xenophobia of Syngorn and is trying to change that culture

Q: Did Vex's relationship with her father change after she saved Velora's life?

A: Yes, later in life they made peace with each other. Part of it was having her own kids with Percy and realizing what family means and it became more important to reconnect

Q: What happened to Vax after his death?

A: Matt wants to leave it up to interpretation but he thinks that Vax was able to reconnect with his mother but also spent some time with the RQ doing her work

Q: Were there other ways to stop the titan?

A: Only destroying it from the inside or killing vecna

Q: Would Keyleth ever cast speak with animals on the raven who visits her?

A: She might eventually have tried but was afraid that it wasn't what she thought so not at first

Q: What were the final contents of the bag of holding?

A: silverware (assorted), candles, stones, caltrops, handcuffs, dried poo disk (broken), armor, a big black sapphire, expensive wine, a troll dick, and some mage robes

Q: How does Vax feel about his ending?

A: He wasn't bitter. It was heavy but he felt very full and knew that his sister would be okay

Q: Who was Pike's other love interest?

A: Percy. She recognized that he was fucked up and she spent a lot of time praying for his soul and that confused her. In the end it was always Scanlan but she was a bit taken by the dark side. Percy had no idea

Q: When your characters look back, what memories stand out the most?

Grog: dropping on kevdak out of the necklace

Vax: Saying goodbye

Keyleth: The cherry blossoms in the voice of the tempest ceremony

Scanlan: Cows

Vex: Talking to Trinket for the first time

Vax: Gilmore stabbing him

Vex: Flying

Keyleth: The hanging tree

Percy: Letting go when Ripley shot me and realizing I was in love with Vex

Scanlan: the stories that weren't epic and saving the world, the friendship was what mattered

Keyleth: The canonball competition

Vax: That last fight when Sam did the level 9 counterspell

Matt: Proving the people who say that Bards are a terrible class and Charisma is a dump stat wrong

Ashley: It's so personal and DnD changed everyone's lives

Q: Is Matt excited to continue on?

A: It's strange to feel like the greatest thing that he's acomplished was part of this [Matt starts crying] and he's excited for the next one

When god closes a door, he opens a new campaign January 11

[kyberphilosopher]

A Man

Gimme, gimme, gimme a man after midnight Won't somebody help me chase the shadows away? Gimme, gimme, gimme a man after midnight Take me through the darkness to the break of the day For better or for worse, you come to realize Jason Todd is alive and well. 

Word Count: 5295 Warning[s]: Starts happy, ends depressing, fluff, angst, crime, guns, mentions of death, not proof read because I’m currently suffering from lack of sleep. Requested: yes.

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

“Boo!”

The brunette stirs from his position almost immediately. Goosebumps grow across his skin just in time for the next breeze of wind that rolls through the air. You watch as they spread from under the fabric of your friends jacket, up to the little sliver of skin between the hood and his hair. Even if your palms weren’t clasped around his broadened shoulders, like now, you know him well enough to know those goosebumps are covering about seventy-five percent of his body right now. 

“You didn’t scare me,” says Jason. “I could hear you.”

You lean down close to his left ear, the side of your face tickled by his hair. This close, you can smell him easier. It was a different scent before he was a Robin. “Oh yeah? Then why’d you flinch?”

Your friend pulls his head away from yours, his neck stretching. His lips are pulling upwards in a grin at the same time as yours are. In the glint of the sun, his eyes glow icy beneath his dark lashes. It’s then, focusing on the humor within the irises, that you notice it. 

“You’ve got something under your eye, Peter.”

“Ugh,” Jason shakes free of your already loosening grip. As his hands reach to rub the excess eyeliner from under his right eye, you round the bench until you’re sitting beside him. “I hate it when you call me that.”

“So sorry, my lord,” you opt for instead with a smirk. “I didn’t realize I’d offended your refined palette.”

“You’re weird,” the boy continues. Finally, he stops his rubbing. Just as he looks up at you, one eye bloodshot with small black tatters of dried ink surrounding the bottom, wind moves the scene. 

Jason watches as you burst into laughter after barely holding it in. His eyebrows crease in confusion, or maybe annoyance, but it doesn’t matter. He can already feel his own smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “What’s so fucking funny?” he snarks. A hand reaches back up to rub at the area of his face. “Huh?”

“Nothing!” you promise, though you’re still laughing. “Seriously, Jason- it’s nothing! Okay, okay! Here, let me do it.”

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

Your door closes with a dull bang. As always, the back of your heel knocks against the old wood to make sure it’s hammered in place. Normally, your palms would push against it, but they’re full tonight. Full of groceries and Chinese takeout that you quickly attempt to balance in your wobbling arms and lug across the room to your kitchen counter. Then you return to the door and twist the first lock into place, the second chain lock pulled and fitted. 

The apartment you live in now is small. There’s only one bedroom, and one bathroom. The rest is open space that you balance between a kitchen and living room. And, although you’re grateful for a place to live at all, the lighting is terrible. It’s no longer a shock for you to replace the few lightbulbs inside the place every two weeks. That’s nothing compared to the dust, the dirt, the loud and inconsiderate neighbors surrounding you on all angles, and the noise of police sirens you hear every night.

If you had a better life, been as rich as Bruce Wayne, you wouldn’t have to worry about all this crap. You could’ve gone to university, maybe get that career you’ve always talked about. You could have it right now. But you don’t. You’re trapped in the worst city in the world. 

Sitting on the couch, you cup the large bowl tightly. The white rice beneath your course is filling the air with a sweet and taunting scent. So taunting, in fact, that you dig into it earlier than you should’ve and burn your tongue with the heat. 

The TV is playing something. Bright colors fill the room in sharp flickers. It’s the news tonight, which is no doubt playing something terrible that’s happening right at this moment. It’s nothing more terrible than the stinging sensation erupting across your mouth, even as you fan it, though. Just some shootout involving a guy in a red helmet. The usual. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you mutter, open mouthed. The burning sensation subsides. You can already feel the future annoyance seeping into your soul. “Nice betrayal,” you gripe to your food, as if it can hear you. Then you reach in with your utensil and take another bite. This one burns your mouth too, but not as much. The rice and meat and sauce override the pain with taste. 

Red helmet man is really giving the authorities a hard time tonight, apparently. You’re never quite sure why they really bother. The guy always finds a way to escape and murder like, twelve people. If it were you on the front lines, you probably would just shit your pants and call it a day. 

It’s on the other side of Gotham, though. Closer to Wayne enterprises, you think. That makes sense, because you can’t hear the sounds of gunshots like you sometimes can. Not that it matters. Batman always shows up, no matter the scene of the crime. Sometimes you play a game with yourself to try and see how long it’ll take for him to show up. Tonight, you estimate it’ll be maybe two or three minutes. 

Another bite of delicious food. And another, and another. You check your phone once or twice (no notifications), half listening to the boringness of the reporter in front of you. Red Hood this, Red Hood that- who cares? It’s Gotham. Everyone is desensitized to everything by now. Why even panic about this shit anymore?

You’re chewing when Batman swoops down from God knows where. It’s closer to the three minute mark than the two, but that’s alright. Most of the officers in the background file out of the scene as the reporter changes her tone urgently. She’s describing the whole thing as if everyone watching were blind, or as if it was possibly more important than your takeout. 

And you know what? It wouldn’t have been. 

If not for him. 

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

“There, it’s all gone,” you say. You turn your palms to Jason so that he can observe the black smudges on the tips of your fingers for himself. 

“Really didn’t need you to do that, dearest,” he tells you, leaning down to fix a part of his sneaker. 

You give a crooked smile- something the two of you find yourselves doing a lot of. “You weren’t going to get it yourself.”

There’s a beat of silence. Jason sits upright again, his back straight against the park bench. In the distance, a woman plays catch with a brown dog. Birds sing all around, harmonized by the rustling of tree leaves and wind. It’s a peaceful image. Certainly one of the most peaceful images in your entire life. 

“Have you been doing okay?” your partner asks to the right of you. 

“Have I been doing okay?” you repeat. “Mm, I don’t know. That’s pretty subjective.”

Jason Todd gives you a look. 

“I’ve been fine... What about you?” you bump his shoulder with yours. “Is Boy Wonder still everything you’ve dreamed of?”

Jason looks straight ahead to the grassy field ahead of you. A look of aloofness washes over his face, one you recognize. “Maybe,” he says lowly. 

And he doesn’t elaborate further. 

“Is something wrong?” you question, brows furrowing in concern. “Jason, you know you don’t have to be Robin if you don’t want to, right? Whoever this guy is will still love-”

“He wouldn’t,” Jason snaps at you. 

When the two of you were twelve, Jason was adopted. He’d been trying to jam the tires off of what turned out to be the Batmobile. Ever so lucky, he left the streets behind to become Batman’s Robin. He got the life all the other kids on the block yearned for, you included. God help you, you were happy for him. And It’s times like right now that the guy makes time to visit you. He cares. But never- never has he snapped like this. 

You just swallow. “Okay.”

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

The camera’s steady themselves away from the scene in a coincidental shake, but you see. There’s nothing in the world that could’ve stopped you from seeing, from recognizing, from knowing. 

Slowly, you pass the bowl onto the coffee table in front of you, eyes glued to the screen. You can hear your own heartbeat in your ears. You can hear the blood rushing through your veins, if you’re quiet enough. Your pupils only stop dilating for a single solitary second- the second when you know- and then they’re hungrily fluctuating all over again. The camera crew is quick to get back into place, but the man is gone. Only Batman stands in the dust now, watching up at the sky as the headlines go crazy. 

You’d know the face anywhere. It’s been a while- a long while, but you’re no fool. It’s disappointing to think he really believed you to be. Even if you’d only seen the dark hair and sharp jaw, you could’ve pieced it together in less than a second. But you’d gotten a glimpse of a whole half of his face, once Batman had punched it broken. You’d seen the blue eyes, the masculine cheeks and jaw, and how his fuller bottom lip curved. Even the sharpness of his nose has stayed the same, after all this time. The only change was that flicker of whiteness in his inky black hair, but it wasn’t enough to deter you from the truth. 

Jason wasn’t dead. The fucker wasn’t dead. 

Why not? He was reported as dead. You’d even read a section about it in the paper. Not being allowed to know the identity of Batman, you hadn’t been to the real funeral. You’d had to hold one yourself like a personal pity party on the park bench you used to meet him when you were kids. 

Five years. Jason’s been dead, by all means, for five years. But there he was not thirty seconds ago on live television. No, longer than that. All those times you saw Gotham City News absolutely flipping their shit over Red Hood, was nothing. Those headlines about how dangerous the vigilante was? That was Jason. Your Jason. Your very dead, long mourned and missed, Jason. 

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

“Sorry,” Jason offers after a moment. His eyes soften, hands clenching and unclenching against the sleeves of his red hoodie. “I’m just stressed. I’m sorry, Y/N.”

Jason’s your best friend. You could never stay mad at him. Not for long, anyway. “I get it,” you say, softly. Sincerely. “There’s no worries.”

Your friend nods slowly, as if he were in deep thought. He probably is. Jason’s always had issues with his self esteem. He’d never say anything, but you could see it. The doubting himself, the putting himself down- you can see him punishing himself in his own head right now. You hate that about him. 

“Jason.” 

Your hand raises to his hunched back comfortingly, then draws to his cheek. Fingers stroke it gently, feeling his skin and the bones underneath. It’s a gesture you’ve seen in adults, mostly between family or lovers. That’s good. That’s how you know you are, in fact, showing a sign of love, and not of aggression. You and Jason both grew up on the streets. Sometimes it’s hard to tell. 

You and Jason Todd have kissed three times. The first time, on his fourteenth birthday on a roof at night. He’d been dressed as Robin. The second was a few months later on your request, also clad in brightly colored armor. Third was a few months ago, now both of you fifteen, somewhere in this very park by a tree. It’s almost never classically romantic- just simple kisses. No tongue or holding each other or anything like that. But they feel good. Neither of you talk about it. It’s just the acknowledgment of something deeper than friendship, and nothing more. 

However, now that Jason’s leaning in for a fourth time, you don’t stop him. You just meet him half way in the middle, palm still against his cheek. Like all times, the kiss is simple. Eyes closed, world melting away despite how genuinely strange another person’s lips on yours feel. It would be unenjoyable if it were anyone but Jason, and you know that. But you also know that he feels differently about it. It doesn’t feel strange to him one bit. He likes it to and past the fullest extent. 

The kiss lasts the same duration as the others. A couple seconds pass- one, two... four... seven- of neither of you moving. And then you both pull away, and you realize that your lips don’t feel as warm as they did an instant ago. In fact, they feel horribly, horribly cold and lonely. 

Removing your hand from his cheek, you both turn back to the park ahead. The woman is still playing catch with the brown dog. 

“Your shoes have dog poop on them.”

You glance down in a panic. Then aggravation fuels you upon the ever cleanly and un-dog-pooped sight. “Jason!”

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

You are calm. 

On the outside, at least. On the inside, it’s something else entirely. It’s something you’ve never felt before. Something so empty, yet consuming. Something so... strange. Inhumane, almost. A certain rage? No. This is more layered than just rage. 

Jason... alive? Yes, Jason alive. That’s the part that makes you deliriously happy, and overwhelmed with love. Even seeing only half his face, fully developed with age and change and the pain of not seeing him for oh, so long, it’s him. There is no doubt in your mind. He’s not dead, he’s alive. That’s what your mind repeats over and over again like a chanting mantra. 

So what is it? What is this feeling? This swirl of hatred and love and need. 

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

Jason’s face is dressed in a big, cheeky smile. 

“You are such an ass!” you exclaim. 

“I didn’t do anything.”

You take your pointer finger and stick it up to his chest. His strong chest that’s only gotten stronger over the years. “You lied to me,” you say as you narrow your eyes. “You know how I feel about dog shat.”

“Negatively,” Jason holds eye contact, lips curved upwards. “Yes. I remember.”

You hold his playful stare for a moment, your own just about ready to blow his head off. Then you break away. “Dickhead.”

“This is how you want to spend our time together? Really?”

“Please, I’ll see you next month. That’ll give me more than enough time to trick you into thinking a cat diarrhead all over your jacket, or something.”

Jason just keeps on smirking with that shit eating grin. “That’s a new one.”

“Shut up.”

Jason smiles, watching you. You can see his dimples. Then he looks away. 

You guessed, somewhere not so deep down, that you’d eventually grow up and get married. Usually you just imagined you’d die the second you’d become a real adult, but once Jason got his future, it became apparent that you’d have to face yours at some point too. A real one. It was about that time you realized you kind of always imagined yourself marrying Jason, or living with Jason, or something with Jason, Jason, Jason. And that’s how it’s supposed to be, right? That’s what people mean when they say they can’t imagine life with anyone else? That’s what you want. 

“I feel like every time I see you these days, it gets shorter and shorter. The time you stay.”

Jason is quiet. So you don’t say anything else. Both of you know the big bad Batman only gives Jason one hour a month to see you. The rest of the time, you’d imagine he’s training, or out kicking ass, or in one of those fancy academies you could only dream of. Sometimes, Jason would find ways around it. There had been a handful of nights where he’d abandoned his post and tapped at your window in full Robin gear, or gotten a message to you to come outside and see the bright colors of his suit for a split second. You loved him for that. Clearly nothing could stop your friendship. But nothing could also stop the missing of him. 

“We’ll have more time at Christmas,” Jason decides to say after a minute. “Trust me.”

“Okay. I trust you.”

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

It’s storming when Jason Todd finds himself on the other side of your door. It had started, in small, light drops, jumping from rooftop to rooftop. By the time he’d landed on your apartment building, it was a full out downpour. Thunder boomed up above. Jason had barely slipped by a strike of lightning that left a searing burn in the middle of the road. 

He knew where you lived. He knew the way you took to get home, as well as every shortcut you ever used. Jason watched you. Your apartment was one of the first places he found out about when he returned to the realm of the living. Then was your work. And your favorite restaurant. And your favorite shop. Even the convenience store you went to. He ate burgers on a roof of an adjacent building, and watched you through your window while you had your own dinner. 

Jason wanted to say something. Every time he followed you home not ten steps behind, he imagined how he would approach you. How he’d apologize and explain everything. He’d have you move in with him- his apartment is even worse than yours, but he wouldn’t let himself move into your space without paying essentially all of the rent. But he never did. He couldn’t bring himself to for years and years. 

The worst part was all those times he saw you at the cemetery. Not at his grave, because Jason doesn’t have one there. His grave is in Bruce’s backyard by a tree.

When you go to the cemetery, you walk by the stones, probably thinking. You always sit up against a large oak tree that overlooks the scene. You’re remembering Jason. It’s even worse when he follows you to the park that he used to meet you as kids, once a month for an hour, as if you’re still waiting to meet him there.

That damn camera crew! Of course Jason noticed them, but he wasn’t gonna shoot them or anything. He would’ve used a bullet on the camera, but his bullets were strong. It probably would’ve gone straight through the glass and hit the man holding it. Fuck.

It won’t be long until the papers start going crazy. There’s not a doubt in Jason’s mind the Gotham City News is already reporting on the half of his face revealed. So if you hadn’t already been watching the news, you’ll hear about it soon. Probably even sooner if you weren’t watching the news, but read the paper in the morning.

That’s it then. Jason can’t run from it anymore.

Jason knocks on your door four times. Each bang is sharp and heavy from the mix of stress and armor on him. He breathes out, tense. He reached up to pull his helmet from his head. This one is in near perfect condition- he traded it out at his apartment across town before racing to you.

Black strands stick to the man’s nervous, sweaty forehead. Jason doesn’t feel that part, but instead is only able to focus on how chapped his lips are. His heart is pounding. Should he knock again?

What’s that? Now that he’s stepped closer, Jason can make out music coming from the inside of the apartment. It would probably mean nothing, except that his heart beat starts pounding in time with the rhythm. But besides that, it’s quiet. All too quiet- more quiet than Jason knows your place should be. 

Despite your double locks, the entrance to your apartment is still a sad and brittle one. So he knocks your door down with his shoulder in two booms, gun stretched out in front of him while the eyes of his helmet glow white-ish blue. He’d put it on for safety reasons, of course.

Scanning around in the inside, he doesn’t have to think hard about his movement. Jason has seen the inside of your apartment from rooftops through windows enough times to know where everything is placed, but besides that, it’s empty. The only movement is that of Jason’s steel toed boots and a flashing timer inside a CD player by the window. It’s playing... an ABBA song?

To the right, your television is completely shattered. There’s a hole in the top left corner with several cracks spreading outward like a spiderweb. It reminds Jason a little too eerily of a bullet hole. 

“Y/N?” Jason calls out, almost robotic sounding through his helmet. “Are you here?”

Nothing but ABBA. 

So how did a gun go off in the apartment then? Are you hurt? Dead? Dear God, Jason prays not. But what’s the other explanation? Whatever it is, it’s time to search the apartment. 

Jason Todd takes one step forward. 

A movement catches his eye faster than any other normal human being. You pop out from behind the wall of the hallway leading to the bedrooms and bathroom, clad in something Jason’s never seen before.

A tight, red armor suit clings to your definition. Some parts around the wrist and the chest are a reflective red, while other parts like the straps and holsters snaking around your thighs are a darker, duller red. The suit stops right under your chin, your face on clear display.

Speaking of your face, you’re startled for a second upon seeing him. Your hand even covers your heart in shock as you breathe with closed eyes. When you open them, Jason knows something is wrong. You’re calm- too calm. Your lips are flickering upwards at the corner in a small smirk as if this was a comedic gag.

“Oh god,” you sigh, letting your (fingerless gloved) hand fall back to your side. “I thought there was someone in my house, Jason. Don’t scare me like that. Now if you’d be so kind to remove your helmet?”

Jason is still. Underneath the mask, his eyes widen as he takes in your face from up close- as himself- for what feels like the first time. Butterflies are tickling Jason’s abdomen as if they’re having a race in there. But there’s something else too. Some nagging, biting feeling that somethings wrong. That he fucked up really, really bad.

“Did you not hear me under there?” Your brows crease. You take steps across the room, body still facing Jason, until you’re directly across from him and away from the hallway. “No, I think you did. I said take it off.”

The gun in Jason’s hands lowers. “I know you know.”

“Obviously,” you hiss with a bite. “What, you think I’m carrying this gun for nothing?”

And sure enough, out emerges a dark handgun from your holster on your hip with no hesitation. “No,” you continue. “It’s not for nothing. Imagine, you’re sitting in front of the TV one night, minding your business. And then- oh! It’s someone who’s supposed to be dead! But they’re not.”

Jason swallows. “I know this is a lot,” he says. “Let me explain-”

“Take it off,” you repeat again, lowly.

And you’re so beautiful to him, that he obeys. Jason’s own gun goes back to his hip while both his hands reach up to the sides of the red mask, which he places on the cushion of your couch. With a little hiss and some loosening of metal, the man lifts it up and over, revealing his face.

That’s it. That’s your Jason. He’s changed, of course. You knew that. He looks just how he did when he was partially exposed on the news some minutes ago. His face is chiseled, with dark eyelashes that define the blue in his eyes. His nose is straight and neither extremely big nor small. Jason’s lips are chapped, but not unattractive. Even his messy black hair is similar to youth, except for a bright white streak in the very front.

Jason watches as your face goes from wild to very, very sad. A frown tugs your lips downwards. There’s nothing that Jason wants to do more than fly across the room and let you cry into his chest while he holds you, but his feet are planted.

“You-” you begin, voice breaking, “-did this to me.”

Jason’s lips are able to form very sincere words. “I’m sorry. I know I should’ve told-”

“You left me to rot in this evil city for over five years… alone. I thought you were dead. And I… I couldn’t even see your funeral. Or your grave. I waited for you in the park every day, just hoping you’d come back and you never did. I did everything on my own. You were supposed to be there and I thought you were dead. But… you’re not. You lied to me.”

By now, both your eyes are shiny with the threat of tears spilling.

“I should’ve told you,” Jason voice cracks. “I know that I abandoned you.”

Holy shit. Jason did the same thing to you that Bruce did to him, but longer.

“I really should’ve been here,” Jason nods quickly.

One tear leaves your eye and rushes down your face. “I just wanted you to come back.”

With all the strength in his body, Jason takes a step towards you. He intends to walk all the way over and just grab you, but you’re the one to stop it.

With a raise of your gun, Jason freezes. Your breathing gets sporadic. Your brows flicker between angry and distraught. “I hate you, Jason Todd.”

“I’m sorry,” he says again, almost desperately. “I really was dead. I promise. I was resurrected.”

“You still didn’t tell me,” you choke. “You let me sit here to die alone.”

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

After your fourth kiss with Jason, there was one last visit. It was the month after, in that very same park. The weather was perfect again. Even the same woman with the same dog was out in the field.

You talked about what you wanted for Christmas, and if this would be the year that whoever Jason’s dad was would let you stay in his apparently very big mansion. The whole time, Jason was throwing his arm around you, laying his head between your neck and your shoulder, even putting little kisses around your jaw to the point that you were tempted to turn your head and let him kiss you on the lips. It was a good, hearty meeting, through and through.

The next month, Jason wasn’t there. He hadn’t even left you any hidden clues or messages around Gotham. No letters, either. A month after that, he was also a no show. Around the same time, there was apparently conclusive proof that Batman’s Robin had died. The papers went crazy.

And you were alone again.

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

Jason lays alone on the floor of your apartment.

His nose is bleeding. The fixed backup helmet he brought with him is cracked on the wood beside him. In the background, ABBA continues their tune with an upbeat rhythm and depressing lyrics.

So, this must’ve been how you felt when Jason left you. Alone, sweaty, bleeding because you’ve been beaten in the face before watching him escape through a window in a red suit. Only now the roles are reversed. Jason is the one alone… also again.

Whatever the case may be, as Jason stares upward at your molding ceiling he is sure of two things.

One, that he has made a new enemy today. And two, that it is one that he won’t fight.

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

Okay so, my prompt was angsty fluff with flashbacks and learning Jason is alive. Pretty sure I delivered. Also I do kinda plan on making this into a series because everybody always wants an enemies to lovers but what about lovers to enemies? Never hear about that shit. 

Also, here’s a breakdown for anyone who’s confused on what happened: Jason and the reader are friends throughout childhood, both growing up on the street. When Jason is taken in by Batman, they see each other less, but Jason is allowed to see his friend once a month in public. Still, he sometimes sees them when patrolling as Robin at night or leaves them clues on when and where to meet. Because of this, they have an unbreakable bond that buds into an unnamed and unknowing childhood romance. The two continue to meet once a month until Jason dies as Robin, leaving the reader with no explanation until hearing about his death months after. So they grow up without him for five years, struggling, unaware that Jason Todd is the Red Hood, and that he’s been keeping an eye on them from afar.

One night, the reader turns on the TV to find a fight between Red Hood and Batman. Batman punches Red Hood so hard, his helmet breaks, exposing half of his face underneath. Despite the years and the mere glimpse, the reader immediately recognizes Jason and their mind snaps. At the same time, Jason realizes he has to tell you he’s alive himself, because you’ve found out on your own or you will soon enough. He stops to get a backup helmet before going to the apartment. When you don’t answer, he becomes concerned and breaks the door down. Inside, you’ve shot your TV and changed into some kind of vigilante armor of your own that Jason decides to ignore. 

You tell Jason that you’ve been waiting for years and that he’s betrayed you, and Jason apologizes over and over. He makes a wrong move in your emotional state, and you pounce on him and begin smashing his helmet against his face, giving him a nose bleed, all to the sound of ABBA’s ‘A Man After Midnight). He doesn’t die and Jason doesn’t fight back even for a second. You leave the apartment, wordlessly vowing that Red Hood has a new enemy and so does Gotham. Unfortunately, Jason won’t give up on you which complicates the matter. I think that’s it. 

[firstprince-ao3feed]

good love helps me feel it

good love helps me feel it https://ift.tt/5fhAwRJ by emonlispenardstreet “Thirsty?” Alex looks down at the glasses as if he’d forgotten they were there and laughs. Now that Henry is looking properly, he sees that Alex’s gaze is a little glassy—he’s not drunk, but he’s definitely on his way there. “Two of these were for June,” he objects. “Besides, Your Majesty, it’s a party.” “My proper title is ‘Your Royal Highness’; ‘Your Majesty’ is reserved for the Queen,” Henry says tightly on autopilot. “Oh, thank you for the etiquette lesson,” Alex shoots back, his voice full of sardonicism. “You’re welcome.” “Fine.” “Fine.” “Fine.” God, Alex is… he’s… insufferable. Henry is suffering. OR: After Henry's family is captured by an evil dictator, he's sent into the Prince Protection Program where Agent Ellen Claremont assigns him to blend in at the safest location she can think of: her house. Words: 5295, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: Red White & Royal Blue - Casey McQuiston, Red White & Royal Blue (2023) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: M/M Characters: June Claremont-Diaz, Nora Holleran, Percy "Pez" Okonjo, Ellen Claremont, Leo (Red White & Royal Blue), Amy Chen (Red White & Royal Blue), Zahra Bankston, Oscar Diaz (Red White & Royal Blue) Relationships: Alex Claremont-Diaz/Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Princess Protection Program, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending, Panic Attacks, Kidnapping, Illogical usurping of thrones, idiots to lovers, Mutual Pining, But they don't know it because they're DUMB, No I'm serious Henry's simpitude is next level in this one guys, Henry has never seen a hamburger before, Olympic level backbending to make hoco make sense in a college setting, Other Additional Tags to Be Added via AO3 works tagged 'Alex Claremont-Diaz/Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor' https://ift.tt/hY5MBuW August 20, 2023 at 11:18AM

[ao3feed-jonmartin]

Rage

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/f8xuZsa by Trin (ssjtrinity) Martin is angry. Jon is getting there. Jonah… grieves? Jon finally learns where this young Jonah came from… and a huge and terrible realization about this quiet world. Words: 5295, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Series: Part 15 of The Magnus Monsterverse Fandoms: The Magnus Archives (Podcast) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: M/M Characters: Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Martin Blackwood, Sasha James, Jonah Magnus Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist Additional Tags: Jonah does philosophy, I dunno that just seemed like it needed a warning read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/f8xuZsa

[rochelle-echidna]

Rochelle’s 2021 YGO Fics

Another year, another round of YGO fics - I figured I’d end 2021 by sharing the fruits of my labour from the last twelve months haha As always, I present these (very) self-indulgent reading materials in case y’all need a break from the never-ending stresses of the world - and as a way for my fellow authors to share their awesome work, too :)

Domestic Ishtars Series

Control (thiefshipping, 5984 words, M)

It’s a Sin (thiefshipping / angstshipping, 5985 words, M)

Don’t Forget Me (taphoshipping / thiefshipping, 6990 words, M)

Rarepair AU YGO Fics

Cosmic Love (tornshipping, 21998 words, E)

When the World Ends (stealshipping, 12376 words, E)

Life in the Fast Lane (eclipseshipping, 12364 words, E)

Fics in Collections / Events

Bad Blood (kingshipping, 15292 words, E)

Delirious (altershipping, 25497 words, E)

Partition (thiefshipping, 8994 words, E)

Rusted from the Rain (eclipseshipping, 5295 words, T+)

Feel Again (gemshipping, 4997 words, E)

YGO Zine Fics

Conspire With You (conspireshipping, 17646 words, E) **co-written with @sitabethel, @mainstream-deviant and @ninjam117

The Only Thing Worth Fighting For (thiefshipping, 2473 words, T+)