#just realized the similarity to the fandom term and I’m SQUIRMING)

[some-cookie-crumbz]

Passing of the Torch

Passing of the Torch Fandom: My Hero Academia Pairing: TodoMomo Summary: TodoMomo Positivity Week Day 4 Prompt Fill: An evening is spent where the Todoroki and Yaoyorozu families finally have the chance to meet and get more familiar with one another. And Shoto gets the sinking feeling that his girlfriend’s father may not be his biggest fan. Standard Disclaimer: If you read and enjoy this, please give it a like/ reblog so I know if I should write more.

Shoto took a deep breath as they approached the upscale barbeque restaurant, feeling unusually nervous. He was normally a rather composed sort but this situation was not something he had ever been faced with before. After a year of dating, the time had finally come for him to finally meet Momo’s parents and, in turn, for his family to meet Momo proper. Natsuo and Fuyumi had had plenty of run-ins with his girlfriend before they were dating and even since, but this was going to be the first time they’d be having a meal together. It was also to be the first time his Mom and Father would be meeting her under the proper terms of being his girlfriend.

“Relax, Shoto,” Mom’s voice giggled softly in his ear, causing him to jump and glance at her. She giggled and reached out to gently smooth his bangs back out of his face. “If you don’t breathe a bit, they’ll be able to see how tense you are the moment we walk in.”

“Yeah, Sho!” Natuso agreed as he came up on his other side, grey eyes twinkling in mirth. “I mean, so long as you don’t spill tea all over them, I doubt you could make a worse first impression than Keigo did.”

“I heard you insulted Nezumi-San’s older sister the first time you met her family,” Fuyumi chirped behind them, leaning a bit closer to her own fiancee as she spoke. The blonde man flashed Natsuo a smug smirk, clearly unashamed to let Fuyumi fight his battle for him.

Natsuo puffed his cheeks out. “I’m starting to think that there’s a problem with you and my girlfriend getting along so well,”

“If you ever gather enough courage to ask for her hand,” Father chimed in flatly from his position beside Fuyumi, “shouldn’t that be a good thing?”

Natsu looked like he had some snarky retort ready but a quick snap from Mom silenced them both. “Mind your manners, boys. Tonight is very important to Shoto and I do not want either of you ruining this for him,” she said evenly, smiling as both men dipped their heads and let out grumbled agreements. Shoto himself let out a small, relieved breath and silently thanked whatever greater forces were at work for Mom.

Upon entering and offering their name, they were whisked away to the back of the restaurant. There was a spacious booth area in the back, where three figures were already settled in. Momo was easy to spot, with what could only be her parents settled in beside her. Her mother and she had many similarities, he noticed, in the curve of jaw, shape of cheeks and jet black hair. Her mother’s eyes, however, were a striking orange hue and more narrowed, the shape reminding him a bit of an almond. To her other side was a frail, pale man with dark purple hair. His eyes were a perfect match to Momo’s in both shape and hue, watching her as she shared some story with a softness that left him a little shaken. Her mother perked up and blinked. “Ah, Todorokis, I see you’ve made it in one piece,” she said, carefully moving out of her seat to greet them properly. “I am Yaoyorozu Miran, Momo’s mother, and this is my husband and her father, Umeo.”

Umeo squirmed his way out, his movements slow, but righted himself with his cane as they went through introductions. As he and Shoto shook hands, his grip tightened a surprising bit. When he stole a glance up at the older man, the look in his eyes was unreadable and his smile cryptic. For a moment, all of Shoto’s worst fears pushed to the forefront of his mind again, panicked that he’d already somehow gotten off on the wrong foot.He was snapped out of it as he was ushered into the booth, Mom insisting that he and Momo sit next to each other. He resolved himself to try and redeem himself for whatever transgression he’d committed against Yaoyorozu-Sama.

Which, as it turned out, was near impossible.

Yaoyorosu-San ended up taking the spot beside Momo, with Yaoyorozu-Sama taking the seat on her other side, placing him at the far end of the table. There wasn’t an extraordinary amount of space between them, but it was a bit difficult. He tried a handful of times to strike up conversation with him, only to have his words drowned out by some large proclamation by Keigo or a inquiry regarding business ventures from Yaoyorozu-San to Father. Momo took his hand under the table, giving a small reassuring smile when he turned to face her. He let himself relax and get swept up in a conversation about a recent mall trip she’d made with Jirou and Uraraka.

When he was paying attention again, their food was being delivered and he noticed Yaoyorozu-Sama staring him down, expression blank. A knot settled itself in the pit of his stomach.

As they ate, he tried a handful more times to speak with his girlfriend’s father between conversations with her, but the man seemed to be outright ignoring him. Instead, when he saw Shoto opening his mouth, he would direct his attention to a different Todoroki. He would ask Fuyumi about her work as a school teacher, or what he was to be his specialized area once he completed med school. He even prompted Father about a discussion regarding the changes to Pro Heroics in the time between their high school years and the modern era, which seemed to take over the rest of their meal time.

While they awaited the checks, Shoto excused himself to the restroom. He splashed a bit of water on his face, using his right side to chill it up and help refresh himself. He stared at his own reflection and tried to mull over what, exactly, he could have done to perturb the older man so terribly. Did he think that the fact they were only meeting after Shoto and Momo had been together a year was a bad sign? He’d heard that normally introduction happened a few months sooner than they had done, but it didn’t seem to be such a large issue to warrant being ignored. Or perhaps he was concerned based strictly on Shoto’s family name alone? The Todoroki family certainly didn’t have the most pristine reputation around. But his being a Todoroki didn’t seem to bother Yaoyorozu-San.

But it wasn’t Yaoyorozu-San that worried him. He knew from what Momo herself said that she was closer to her father than her mother. Yaoyorozu-Sama’s opinion, he reasoned, would therefore be the one that could make or break their relationship. He shook his head and headed out, telling himself that the likelihood of Momo breaking up with him just because her father did not completely approve was slim to none.

But that didn’t stop him from following after than man when he saw him stepping outside while everyone else tended to the check.

The other man was leaning against the wall beside the restaurant when Shoto stepped outside, his eyes closed. He steeled his nerves as he walked over. “Yaoyorozu-Sama,” he said.

The other perked up, blinking at him in clear surprise. “Ah, Shoto-Sama! I didn’t realize you had come outside as well,”

“I want to apologize,” Shoto said while quickly bowing, “if I have said or done anything to offend you this evening. It was not my intention and, if told how I stepped out of line, promise to never do so again.”

A small chuckle came from the older man. Shoto tilted his head to peek at him through his bangs. The other man was covering his mouth to try and muffle the laughs escaping him, a gesture he’d seen Momo imitate multiple times. “I’m sorry, Shoto-Sama,” he said, clearly his throat and letting his hand fall away. Any sense of mystery in his expression was completely dissipated, revealing only genuine amusement. “Please rise. You’ve done nothing to offend myself or Mikan.”

He blinked as he stood back up at his full height. “I do not understand. If I haven’t crossed a line, why did you seem to be ignoring and dodging me when I attempted to speak with you?”

Yaoyorozu-Sama smiled. “Because I wanted to observe how you interacted with my daughter as opposed to how you would address me,” he said simply.

Shoto blinked a few times before tilting his head at him. “I don’t understand,”

“If you’ll be kind enough to humor an old man, Shoto-Sama,” he hummed, his gaze shifting to the stars above, “allow me to explain. If there is something I observed frequently in my youth, it was the idea of presenting oneself in a specific light for a specific audience. When speaking from the lens of Pro Heroics, it makes sense. One must be attractive to the public to have any level of true success. But… When it comes to courtship and romance, I saw this frequently as well. I saw peers pretend to be someone they were not in front of their partner’s families, just in hopes of impressing them. I decided, then, that I wanted my opinion to be based on who my Momochi’s partner was when they were with her. Because… That is what is truly important, especially if you intend to be with her for the foreseeable future. The person you are towards my daughter will forever be more important than who you try to be to me.”

“The foreseeable future?”

“You two are young. There could come a day where one of you wakes up and realizes that the love is gone between you,” he said patiently. He let his gaze turn away from the stars to Shoto, still smiling but his eyes bright with conviction. “I am asking you, as her father, that if that day comes you be a real man about it and walk away as gently as you can. To be honest and upfront, to not play games. And if it is she who decides to end it, let her go with grace and dignity, in a way deserving of the kind of love you claim to hold for her.”

The request caught him off guard. The idea of someday being with someone else? FInding a partner other than Momo? He took a deep breath as he tried to sort out the thoughts in his head to something cohesive. “I do not see such a day ever occurring. The only partner I can ever see by my side is Momo. A future we are not facing together, as a team, is impossible for me to envision. However… I promise to fulfill this request, if such a day should ever come to pass,” he said, squaring his shoulders and holding the other’s eye the whole time he spoke.

Grey eyes gleamed before he chuckled, closing his eyes as he nodded. “Thank you for your honestly and promise, Shoto-Sama,”

He nodded. “Though, in the spirit of honesty, if I may say one thing, Yaoyorozu-Sama?”

“Of course,”

“I feel as if there were better ways to accomplish your goal without spending most of the evening ignoring me, thus leading me to believe I had somehow started out with making a bad impression with you,”

That got a hearty laugh out of the other man. “My, you don’t hold you back, do you? How charming to see that level of honesty from a man so young!” His laughter only lasted a bit before he started coughing, pulling a handkerchief from his coat pocket and coughing into it. “Forgive me. I’m afraid I fall into coughing fits much easier than I did in my younger years.”

He opened his mouth to tell him there was no need to apologize when Momo appeared beside them with a worried frown. “Father, are you okay? Are you pushing yourself too hard again?”

Yaoyorozu-Sama flashed her a bright smile and shook his head. “Not at all, Momochi. Shoto-Sama just said something incredibly clever,”

She visibly relaxed. “I am glad that the two of you are getting along, though I would appreciate you stay close to Mother or I if you need help,”

“Of course, darling,” he hummed, taking one of her hands in his own. He stroked the top of her hand gently before offering it to Shoto. “Now, why don’t you two go on ahead while this old timer catches up with the grown ups again?”

There was no hesitation as Shoto took Momo’s hand in his own, offering a small smile to her father. “Thank you for your time, Yaoyorozu-Sama,” The older man smiled and tipped his head before moving past. Without needing to say it, Shoto knew what this gesture had meant.

He squeezed Momo’s hand gently at the inquisitive look she flashed him, choosing to leave it at that for now.

#My Hero Academia #TodoMomo #Yaoyorozu Momo #Todoroki Shoto #TodoMomo Positivity Week #my fics #I wanted an excuse to do more stuff with Umeo and Mikan and the Todosibs #So I seized it #Loosely connects to previous days #But works just fine on it's on so no link

[disregardcanon]

rwby volume 7 episode 9

also i just looked at the view count and it’s only like 25,000 views for this episode? that’s so weird to me since youtube is the easiest place to access rwby

1. oh gosh, jacques getting discovered was so refreshing. like, that fucker was nailed to the wall and i enjoyed every moment of watching him squirm. 

2. robyn really IS someone who’s dedicated to her cause. we’ve seen adam, who co-opted a similar movement to make it about spite, but when she realized that ironwood wasn’t protecting himself but trying to protect others she was totally willing to hear him out. 

i really appreciate that about her 

3. clover emphasizing that the goal is “protecting civilians, not killing grimm” really strikes me as worrisome because it means that’s not always the case. maybe not even normally the case

4. ruby and oscar are so awkward. it’s like looking at two people go “same hat!” forever. i like their friendship but they also have no idea how to be normal humans around each other XD 

5. oscar’s definitely starting to soak up parts of oz. i’ve heard that the fandom term is “ozmosis” 

6. clover is definitely flirting with qrow and i’m not opposed to people flirting with qrow i’m just not sure i’m sold on him being the one to do it. give qrow a different boyfriend maybe? 

7. also not shown in this episode but i am so proud of qrow for going sober. he’s realized that he’s got a problem and trying to get better for the people around him 

8. i feel bad for whitley. even though jacques going to jail is going to be a net positive for him, it’s still a big blow to his identity because he’s clearly invested so much in Being Like Dad So Dad Will Not Be Terrible to Me. 

8. also, oooooo excited to see what neo and cinder pull 

#rwby liveblog

[sleepyfan-blog]

Sleepy Dream [part three]

fandom: understale au

part three of this and this. Continued here

Characters: Dream, WD Gaster, Science!Sans

warnings: cursing

word count: 2,337

Summary: Sci and Dream figure out what’s wrong. Dream is less than thrilled.

Dream has gone through every physical test that both of the scientists can come up with - and he’s used his magic in every way he knows how - from telekinesis and using his bow - to affecting one of theirs’ emotions while other notes down what’s going on and how much magic he’s using. The positive spirit is trying to stave off of the feelings of being used as a lab rat, but it’s getting increasingly difficult to do so. “So… Now what?”

Sci and Gaster glanced at one another, before the former says “We’ve ran you through a bunch of physical tests. And you’re right when you say that you’re not falling down or anywhere close to it. But something is causing your magical exhaustion and from the data we’ve gathered… It has something to do with your Soul.”

“If you like, I can leave the room. I know that you are uncomfortable in my presence.” Doctor Gaster offered, standing up and heading slowly for the door.

“I… Please do. I’m sorry it’s just-” Dream answered apologetically, shuffling his feet a little. He felt guilty but… Also relieved that only Sci would be directly observing his soul. This was going to be a weird conversation as it was.

“I’ve had nightmares  about alternative versions of myself. I am well aware of how awful I can be in other timelines.” Doc G responded, a small, sorrowful smile on his face, and a mixture of distress, disgust and unhappiness in his emotive aura.

“Thank you, Doctor Gaster.” The positive spirit murmured gratefully. The other nodded as he left, closing the door quietly behind him. As soon as Gaster was gone, Dream shut off his eye lights and took a couple of steadying breaths in and out before summoning his soul, not quite looking at Sci as it took shape. “So… For as long as I’ve been able to summon my soul, it’s been this shape and color. I’d also like to… Admit that… I’m not exactly a monster… I am… I was created from all of the positive feelings in the multiverse, and condensed into the form similar to an elemental. A skeletal shell was created for me to inhabit. After… Something happened, I fused with the skeleton body I inhabited and this is the shape and color my soul has taken. But that happened centuries ago, and I became much stronger, so that incident is not related to the reason why I’m suddenly losing strength. I’m not and have never been a Sans.”

“I… Uh… Okay. That’s… Kind of surprising, but okay. I’m going to grab the Soul analyzer. It’s going to either tickle, tingle or both. It shouldn’t feel painful - but if you feel even the slightest twinge, tell me and I’ll stop and recalibrate it.” Sci informed Dream, going over to one of the built in wall panels and touching a couple of buttons as he spoke.

A thin, spindly metal arm descended from a hole in the ceiling. Thin and flexible fibers of magically enforced something attached themselves to Dream’s soul, the fibers wrapping all the way around before glowing a faint green color. Dream held very still, trying not to laugh a little or squirm as the fibers tickled his soul. It was one of the strangest sensations that he’d ever felt. He watched Sci occasionally poke buttons and write stuff down for what felt like an eternity before the other switched off the machine, and it let go of his soul, the fibers vanishing before the arm did into the hole in the ceiling, a little metal plate snapping shut.

Sci stared at the data for a long time before murmuring quietly, his aura filled with curiosity and fascinated confusion “Huh. You’re half of a binary entity. That’s… Really strange.”

“I-I don’t… What do you mean by that?” Dream asked, confused by what the other meant, startling a little.

“You have an other half. Literally. So who is it? You have to know them. You and they were created by the same magic. Their powers either complement or oppose yours.” Sci prodded “You have a soul bond with another being. The likes of which I’ve never seen before. I’ve studied the bonds between family members, between long term mates. Hell, even between platonic and romantic soulmates, from AUs where monsters have such things. But I have never seen a bond like that.”

“...” Dream stayed quiet, averting his eyes. The metal floor had a very fascinating pattern, and he was entirely focused on it all of a sudden.

“Dream? Dream you know who I’m talking about. Please just tell me?” Sci pleaded, moving so that he was directly in the other’s line of sight. “I won’t tell anyone else. But if I know who it is, then I might be able to figure out why your magic is draining.”

Dream realized that he was shaking again, tears blurring his vision as he curled up on the cold examination table “I don’t… Please don’t… I don’t want to talk about this…” He never, ever wanted to talk about Nightmare. He had no idea if the other was confined to their home timeline, or like him, could create portals to different worlds, so long as that world held a certain amount of the kind of feeling that they were created from and were created to protect.

“... Okay, you don’t have to talk about who they are. But how long has it been since you’ve last seen them? I mean face to face - not talking to them on the phone, or using a screen to talk to them long distance. But actual, face to face communication. Or the two of you being within the same timeline at the very least, if not within the distance that a single zone of the underground of one another.” Sci pressed, placing a hand on one of the other’s shoulders, watching him intensely.

“... I would say at least… Four… No five decades. A century at the most? I’m not quite sure. How long’s it been since I started travelling with Ink?” Dream responded, frowning a little bit, trying to figure out how long it had been. "I really don't know. Hopping between timelines and universes really messes with a person's sense of time. And I have noticed that some worlds have a bit of a dilation. A day in one timeline can be a week, or even a month in another.

"I... Don't you feel a pull to be with your soul bonded? I... I've never been bonded myself, but from those whom I've spoken with, such a distance between those who have less intense soul bonds of more than a few weeks can cause a lot of stress, misery and worry about the absent partner. I... I'm not surprised that you're starting to lose your magic. You need to seek this person out, Dream. The bond between the two of you is trying to pull you back to them, which is why you're losing energy." Sci explained, his voice gentle but firm "And please don't try to lie to me and say that they're dead or something like that. I've seen beings with less intense soul bonds die within weeks of their bonded dying. I'm not sure you'd survive an hour if your other half died."

"I know that if he died, I would die too. We're not meant to live without each other." Dream snapped, wrapping his arms around his waist and shifting away from the other, a defensive scowl appearing on his face. "I mean... He's... He's the guardian of negativity. We were created together to help provide balance. If only one of us died, the other's presence would cause an emotional imbalance that would eventually cause havoc across the entire multiverse... Or so the information that we were given said. So our fates were bound together. When one of us dies, the other will too, shortly after. I don't know if that means the other would just crumble to dust or they would be... Driven to ensure their own death. And you ask if I miss him? Of course I do. Every day. Every hour. I can't get him out of my head, and he still has control of my heart." Dream buried his face in his hands, and failed spectacularly not to cry.

"I... Okay..." Sci has never in his life ever heard of a guardian of negativity, but now that Dream mentioned it, he supposed that it did make sense for such a being to exist. The question remains is... Why have none of them heard of them before? Though the more important question is... Why does the very mention of him drive Dream to inconsolable sobbing, if the other is clearly alive, given that his friend is still alive, if miserable. "So... Where is he? Does he need to be rescued - like did Error steal his soul or something?"

Dream laughs, and it is a bitter, hollow sound. His eye lights are fractured circles that reflect the misery that he feels. His magical aura - due to his intense negative feelings - is much weaker than it normally is, startling the hell out of Sci, who tightens his grip on Dream, half-convinced that the other was about to vanish at any moment for a couple of seconds. The positive spirit sighs and shakes his head "If only it was so simple a thing for Error to have captured him." Dream curls into a tighter ball, very much unwilling to elaborate any further.

"Uhhh… You don't have to tell me about whatever happened between the two of you, however this energy draining thing? It's going to get worse, and I'm pretty sure that it's affecting him too. I'm not saying that you don't deserve to be mad at him for whatever the hell you're so pissed off at him about, or that avoiding him for whatever reasons that you have isn't a good thing... Except for the fact that it is affecting your physical and magical health. You have to see him regularly. Even if it's just to yell at him for being an asshole." Sci offered quietly.

"How long?" Dream asks, glaring holes at the floor, no longer crying. "How much time to I have to spend with him, for this to stop?"

"I don't know. I'd have to measure his soul and the rate at which the MP drain decreases when you're together, versus while the two of you apart." The younger skeleton answered  honestly.

Dream stared at Sci, gently patting one of the other's cheeks and murmuring absently "I would never inflict his presence on you. Or anyone else. Not as he currently is, filled with a twisted corruption that has tainted his mind and caused... A great deal of strife and pain in our home timeline." Also death, but Dream's not going to say that. No need to scare Sci. The other had been doing all he could. "I was wondering if my lack of energy was related to him somehow. So it is… Just not in the way I was thinking. Thank you for answering this question for me… I need to tell Ink that I’ll be gone for a while… I don’t think he’s ever been to my timeline before. I definitely would have remembered meeting him. Then again, perhaps he might have visited before we existed? If none of you ever see me again, please know that it’s not by choice, but because I couldn’t escape Nightmare.”

Sci tilts his head a little, and asks quietly “Nightmare?”

“My other half. That’s his name. Fallen guardian of negativity. He is… Magnitudes stronger than I am. He’s quite possibly stronger than Ink and Error together. We were at equal power level once… Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go see the one being I’ve been running from since I figured out how. Thanks for the help, Sci.” Dream murmured, eye lights very dull and shattered as he uncurled from the ball he was and stood up almost robotically. “... Actually, would you mind telling Ink? I have a feeling that if I try to explain only a little bit he’s not going to be satisfied until I explain the whole thing and I really, really don’t want to.”

“I… Wh- hold on! Dream… Dream please try to calm down? I can tell that you’re miserable and distraught - don’t try to use your aura on me to think otherwise. I know the look of a person in abject misery. Promise me you won’t do anything that you’d regret in a better frame of mind?” Sci pressed, grabbing his friend and hugging him tightly, in an attempt to get the other to stop moving.

Dream stopped moving long enough to smile down at him, and it was filled with great sadness “I… I will try. But for now I have to go home. Please give Ink and Blue my fondest regards.” With that, he gently pried Sci off of him, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of the other’s forehead, murmuring quietly “Sleep now, you don’t want to see this.”

The younger skeleton cursed quietly, feeling his body go limp and relaxed as Dream carefully set him on the bed. He was awake, but only just. The positive guardian opened a bright yellow portal, revealing a rust-red sky and an ashy, desolate looking landscape. Sci honestly couldn’t tell if the AU that Dream was going to, he’d opened it to an above or below ground place. There was a giant, dead stump filling one portion of the portal as the other went through it.

Sci couldn’t get up - he barely managed to drag his interdimensional phone out of his pocket and shakily typed out one word [help] before hitting send, unaware that he hadn’t sent it just to Ink, but all of the AU travelling Sanses he had contact with - as he’d sent it in the main text chain before passing out completely.

#my writing #science!sans #dream #wd gaster #cursing tw

[thathopelessromantic]

i’ll love you ‘til my breathing stops

Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia/My Hero Academia Rating: T+ (for character death) Pairing: EraserMight (Aizawa Shouta/Eraserhead x Yagi Toshinori/All Might) Note:  This was saved on my computer as "bnha but its gonna hurt." Title from Lorde's "Writer in the Dark" because...well that's my favorite line in the song and its not like the death is a secret anyhow. 

He learns the truth, like everyone else, when its already too late to do anything but deal with the fallout.

AO3: (x)

Heroes have secrets. Much of their lives are defined by them, certainly much more than most civilians would ever think. Aizawa Shouta had tried his damnedest to keep his very identity a secret, in order to keep fighting. And Yagi Toshinori - All Might - had carried a secret heavier than most could ever imagine; that the Symbol of Peace would one day lose his quirk, that anyone could possibly one day lose something so key to themselves.

Midoriya Izuku is waiting outside when he arrives. Shouta had gotten used to seeing Pro-Hero Deku on the news and plastered across magazine stands. The world had been watching him for so long, there was no surprise he had jumped in popularity after his graduation. It had been a long time, however, since he had seen Midoriya.

The young man is taller than him now, unsurprisingly. He's bigger, all around it seems, except his hair which has finally been tamed into something a little more reasonable. His sleeves are stretched around scarred arms as he clenches and unclenches a fist, restless. Always restless. His shoes are still red.

Shouta clears his throat, because he's not sure what else to do to make himself known, and because Midoriya was the one who called him, so it seems rude to brush past his old student altogether, though he wants to simply shove his way into the room, demand answers, and return home. The phone call and the trip alone would have drained him of most of his energy, but he also had to fight his way past swarming reporters up and down the surrounding blocks. Midoriya still startles easily it appears, for he jumps at the noise, looking around the wide hall for trouble before his eyes finally settle on Shouta. His eyes are older now, he realizes, less curiously innocent. And rimmed red. He looks exhausted.

He wipes at his face distractedly, but whatever tears had been falling are dried. “Ai-Aizawa,” he covered it well, but Shouta still recognized the hesitance as Midoriya only just stopping himself from addressing him with a more formal honorific. The young hero clears his throat and tries again. “I’m sorry I couldn’t say more on the phone, I…I didn’t know how much you knew, but he…All Might asked me to call you.”

At another time, Shouta might’ve found it funny that despite the fact that Toshinori had not appeared as “All Might” for even longer than Midoriya had officially been Deku, he couldn’t let go of the moniker when thinking of his mentor.

Instead he just considers how he managed to find himself in this situation. He wonders how much Midoriya really knew. Toshinori had always been invested in Midoriya’s schooling and training. He followed the boy’s development religiously, considering their similarities in both personality and quirk, it wasn’t surprising. The two regularly met still, as far as Shouta knew, simply to catch up and chat. But heroes had secrets. And relationships were bad ideas, even when they were secrets.

“I knew he was…ill.” He finally settles on. From the wound that had taken his quirk from him, goes unsaid. That had never been made public knowledge. But the two were thick as thieves. Surely if Toshinori’s illness was not news to Midoriya, his wound would not be either.

“Oh.” Is all he gets in reply and the tone makes something in his chest tighten. There’s confusion, but there’s something else, something deeper behind it that he knows well. Something unspoken, something secret.

He moves to open the door and get to the bottom of this once and for all, but Midoriya stops him with a hand to his chest. His hand is large and warm in a way that reminds Shouta of Toshinori, but scarred and warped in a way he had never seen from the years of abuse it endured adjusting to Midoriya’s strange quirk. The touch is just light enough to stop him without real force, but he can see from the way Midoriya’s arm tenses that if he pushed, the young man would push back.

“Detective Tsukauchi is visiting right now,” he says quietly, but firmly. “We should let them have a few more minutes alone.”

And so he waits.

The two heroes differed in many ways, perhaps all ways, save for their desire to help the people and the secrets they kept.

“Do you love me?”

They were lying in bed when Toshinori asked the question. Shouta was freshly showered and debating to himself if it was worth it to get up and do something with the damp towel still hanging over his head. Toshinori was already hooked up to a number of machines that helped keep his body from shutting down in the night. Cords and wires draped over the side of the bed just waiting to get tangled and a quiet but steady beep came from one of the machines. The first time Shouta had ever stayed over he was sure the noise would bother him, but he had been so tired he feel asleep almost instantly, and they had been doing this…thing for so long now, he hardly even noticed it most nights.

Now it felt unnaturally loud.

“That’s a surprisingly bold question coming from you,” he replied levelly. He sat up, suddenly grateful for the extra cover the towel provided as he tried to work out what was happening and how in the world he was going to respond to it.

He cared for the old hero, certainly far more than he ever expected to. They were coworkers. They were…friends. They were something else but not quite something more. At least, they had never talked about letting it become something more.

Could it be something more?

Perhaps after retiring from the hero business, Toshinori was starting to realize all he had given up in terms of a normal family by becoming the Symbol of Peace.

“What kind of answer are you looking for here?” he finally asked. Not the most tactful response, perhaps, but when had he last cared about something like? Especially around Toshinori? They had seen each other at their worst, and if Toshinori was going to ask such boldfaced questions, who was he to worry about appearances and politeness now?

“’No.’”

Once he heard it, Shouta realized the confident, firm response was the last thing he was expecting in that moment. Finally, he turned around to face Toshinori and found he was being watched with a soft, fond smile. Toshinori’s unique, sunken eyes were tired.

“’No’?”

“Loving a hero is a dangerous choice,” he said wittingly, as if speaking from experience.

“You’re retired,” Shouta replied carefully. You’re not a hero anymore, were dark words he would never say, not when he knew from experience they echoed in Toshinori’s nightmares already.

Toshinori waved a hand over himself with a short laugh. The cords moved soundlessly with him, but stilted his movements. “And that was not a decision I made lightly or even very willingly.” His sunken chest rose and fell only barely. The scarred skin of his side was dark and shadowed in the dim, evening light. “So?”

Shouta’s eyes trailed back to his face. A concerned crease was forming in his forehead.

“You’re a friend,” he said carefully. For some reason, he couldn’t bring himself to simply say “no.”

Toshinori’s eyes closed and he relaxed against the headboard. “’A friend’ is good.”

“What about you?” Shouta hadn’t realized he spoke aloud until Toshinori’s eyes opened to focus on him once again. He resisted the urge to squirm under the gaze. “I’m still technically on active duty, and as you said, it’s dangerous to…care about a hero.” His lips hesitated around “love.”

Toshinori reached out and touched a strand of Shouta’s hair, tucking it behind his ear. “You should finish drying off.”

Despite that, over the years their relationship had improved, and changed, and grew. Still, he knew they had secrets from each other. Secret Keeping is a hard habit to break, especially when it has been the norm for so long, far longer than not. And so, he shouldn't be surprised to learn there was something he hadn't been told about his partner.

When Naomasa leaves the room, his eyes are downcast, shoulders slumped. When he sees Shouta across the hall, he freezes, as if caught doing something he shouldn’t. Shouta had thought they were becoming hesitant friends, thanks to Toshinori’s insistence, and considering they were the two he spent the most time with and eventually that time came to overlap, but the expression Naomasa wears now is one he does not know well enough to read accurately.

At least, he hopes.

But Naomasa simply shakes his head.

Behind him, Shouta hears the first sniffles that could only mean Midoriya is crying once again, but his feet are moving him into the room before he can dwell on it, pushing past Naomasa with more force than necessary as the detective all but crumples under his hand.

Doctors are scattered across the spacious room, but none address the bed, or Shouta, as he storms in. A single nurse stands at the side, slowly, methodically turning off flashing machines. She alone seems aware of him as he approaches the bed.

Toshinori lays still, as he always does when he’s asleep, a habit trained into him from too many nights accidentally ripping IVs out of already weakened arms or setting off alarms that had doctors and friends alike rushing to his side at all hours of the night. His trademark hair was flattened against the stark white pillow, bangs brushed away from a gaunt face. He’s unsettlingly pale.

“Were you close?” The nurse asks softy.

Shouta swallows thickly around the lie in his throat. “Friends,”

But something one must never forget, particularly as a Secret Keeper themselves, is that the fallout always hurts those kept in the dark more than anyone ever plans.

When Shouta heard the shaky inhale, he tensed, ready to sit up and fetch water or an extra handkerchief. He had been drifting between awake and asleep for what felt like hours now, but he had thought Toshinori had been asleep for far longer and he usually only awoke for nightmares or when he felt ill. A large hand hesitated over his form before settling on his shoulder, long fingers twisting into the ends of his dark hair. Just as he had been mistaken about Toshinori’s consciousness, he realized Toshinori was about his as well. He rarely initiated any kind of physical contact between them, without Shouta’s explicit request, or in some desperate times, order.

“I love you,”

The whisper was barely audible, but Shouta felt the words echo throughout his entire being, prickling at his skin and unsettling his chest. He squeezed his eyes shut even tighter as Toshinori barked out a startled laugh, as if his own words surprised him, and the shocked, sour sound turned almost instantly into a rough coughing fit. As the harsh coughs finally settled, he shushed himself in the quiet of the room.

For a few moments, neither dared to move a muscle, but when Toshinori, falsely, determined he was still asleep, he grew bolder still and moved his hand from Shouta’s shoulder to the top of his head.

“You never dry your hair,” he reprimanded fondly, as his hand trailed over the damp locks. It was an argument they had often. “You’ll get sick. You need to take care of yourself, especially when I am not around.”

Toshinori sighed heavily, his hand stilling at the top of Shouta’s head once again. “I wish you would find someone better equipped to take care of you, like I told you to. So stubborn.” He coughed again, less intensely than before, though Shouta could tell from the wet crack of the sound there was blood in these coughs that hadn’t been in the last fit. “Find someone healthier at least. And younger. Someone you can love next time.”

Does it hurt more, he wonders, because, he realizes now, he was the last to know?

“He wanted me to give this to you,”

Shouta isn’t sure when Midoriya joined him in the room, but he turns to find him holding out a long, pale envelope.

He doesn’t take it from the boy, simply looks over his appearance. The bruise he had overlooked for the red eyes is likely fresher than he had originally assumed. He wonders how much of the blood on the green of his suit is his own.

“When did your rip your sleeves?” he asks. The boy hadn’t used so much of his power to damage his hero suit, or somehow even more surprisingly himself, in a long time.

Midoriya shifts his weight, still holding out the envelope. His hands are bare, and the tattered remains of his sleeves had been rolled up as much as he could manage, to keep them out of the way. If Shouta hadn’t seen the original costume he chose in school, he would have wondered if the young hero chose the full-body cover to hide the scars that covered him. He looks to the floor, avoiding his old teacher’s gaze.

“Today.”

For some reason, he expected as much, but it doesn’t stop his temper from spiking. “He wasn’t even supposed to be in town,” Shouta manages to keep himself from shouting, but that doesn’t take the bite out of his snarl as he snatches the envelope from the boy. “He was supposed to be at a doctor’s appointment.”

Midoriya says nothing as he opens the envelope and unfolds the paper inside. A small key clatters to the ground. Silently, he picks it up, noting its similarity to his own copy for Toshinori’s apartment.

When he sees the letter, he doesn’t realize his hands are shaking until Toshinori’s familiar, sharp letters blur on the page in front of him.

Shouta-

There’s no easy way to tell you the truth after all this time, and maybe it would be better to leave it as it is, so forgive a selfish, old man one more fault, but Izuku is not only my student, and someone dear to me, but my heir. He was given a quirk at fourteen, though he was born quirkless, so that he might one day surpass me and carry on the mantel of the Symbol of Peace when I was no longer able. That had not been the original plan, but when I met him I saw something of myself in him and he reminded me why I wanted to be a hero, all those years ago, as a quirkless boy myself. Unfortunately, our meeting cut my time on this earth shorter still.

You were not a part of the original plan, either, my love. Which is what you have become, though you may hate me more for telling you in this way, than being honest long ago. That is not a fault I will ask your forgiveness for, perhaps the anger will make what comes next easier for you. If you kept your promise, find love now, with someone alive. In all the years you have known me, I was on borrowed time, and though it was some of the best time, it was stolen, though from which poor soul I do not know. If you did not…please know I asked it of you in hopes of protecting you. Though that may not make it better. I’ve been told I’m rash with decisions when it comes to those I love.

The key is my own, to my apartment. I know you preferred the view from my living room than your own, even if you would not admit it, and when Eri is home from school it will be nice for you both to have your own rooms. I lied, the building is pet-friendly, and I can only hope Eri and Hizashi will keep you from adopting too many furry friends. Naomasa has all the necessary paperwork.

I’m sorry to ask one last favor of you, but please tell the boy it is not his fault. I knew when I gave him One for All, I was signing my own death certificate. I would still make the choice again, a hundred times over. To see the hero he grew to be, and will still become, has been one of the greatest gifts in my life.

You were the other.

It takes all of Shouta’s self-control not to crumple the paper further.

“What happened?” he asks, strangely breathless, finally looking away from the letter.

Tears are pooling in Midoriya’s green eyes, but he’s come a long way from the first year Shouta once knew, and they never fall, though they quiver on his eyelashes. “All for One is gone. Once and for all. We made sure of it.”

His voice hitches on “we” and when Shouta turns around, the nurse has pulled the thin, white sheet over Toshinori’s face, finally hiding his form. Once and for all.

“He knew he was dying,” Shouta says, though the explicit truth of this statement was as much a mystery to him before as it was to Midoriya. His chest feels hollow and cold. His jaw burns with the effort of staying calm. “He made that choice, you did not do this.”

The hero crumples before him, hiccupping around a poorly hid sob. Shouta kneels before him, pulling him closer. He falls forward easily, letting his old teacher support him.

“You took care of All for One. He could go without regrets. Mourn, but don’t dwell.” He hesitates around Toshinori’s old nickname. “Don’t…don’t blame yourself, my boy.”

All my love, Toshi.

Love, like secret keeping, is not for the faint of heart.

#bnha #erasermight #aizawa shouta #eraserhead #toshinori yagi #all might #character death #angst #future fic #pro hero deku #midoriya izuku #flashbacks #fwb #fic #rita writes #writing #6.20.18