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xmarchwarden-of-lothlorienx · 3 years

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A World Away

Thranduil x fem!human!reader

Requested: Anonymous

Summary: “I want a modern reader thrown into mirkwood forest. Found and thrown into a cell by thranduil. During an escape attempt reader sees an animal and decides to rescue an animal and get caught by thranduil. He takes an interest and reader is treated as a guest. Thranduil starts falling for her and sends her to live with humans. “What did i do? Why are you sending me away?” And then during the battle of five armies she meets with thranduil again and fluff”

Warnings: a little swearing (like twice)

Authors Note: Splitting this into two parts so everyone can suffer (joking lol)

Edit: Not me trying to schedule this and realizing it didn’t post 🤦🏻‍♂️

__________________________________________

With every step, you could hear your heart pounding in your ears. Your adrenaline rush prevented you from noticing the sharp briars that tore at your skin and clothes. You could worry about that later. Your only concern now was making it out of this forest.

You had planned your escape from the Elvenkings dungeon for weeks. Today, the opportunity to put your plan into action had finally arisen. As you dodged fallen logs and low hanging branches, you thought of how you came to be here in the first place.

Your head was throbbing as you came to. You attempted opening your eyes, but the bright sunlight forced you to close them again. You could hear strange voices speaking in a foreign tongue. You attempted to move your hands, but they were bound. Forcing your eyes open a second time, you took in your unfamiliar surroundings.

You were in a forest, surrounded by men and women dressed in strange clothes. All of them had long hair that was intricately braided, revealing their...pointy ears? Okay, what on earth was happening here.

“Excuse me, but who are you people? Why am I here?” You voiced. One with blonde hair, you assumed he was their leader, snapped his head towards you.

“You were trespassing on our lands. You are now in the custody of King Thranduil. He shall decide your fate” You gulped. Oh lord, what had you done now?

You were ripped away from your thoughts when you tripped over something in your way.

“Shit!” You hissed at the pain now shooting up your leg. You turned and looked at what had caused you to fall. A small fawn lay trembling at your feet. It didn’t appear injured, but your conscience wouldn’t let you leave until you checked. You extended a hand to the fawn, but it flinched away. “C’mon, I won’t hurt you. I promise,” you reassured. As you were checking the animal over, the sound of a sword being drawn reached your ears. You turned to see the tall figure now standing behind you. You recognized him as one of the guards that had taken you prisoner when you arrived at this miserable place.

“I see we didn’t get very far,” the elf said sarcastically. You dropped your head in defeat.

“Damn my good conscience,” you thought.

___

The first time you were before the Elvenking, he had been perched atop his throne. This time, you met him in his private study. He was seated in a large chair, sipping a glass of rich red wine. He appeared unbothered. You weren’t sure if anything could sway him.

“Leave us,” he commanded the guards placed at the doors. He took another long drink of his wine, then placed it on the table beside him. Neither of you spoke, and the silence was deafening. Thranduil took a deep breath and gestured to the seat adjacent from him, ”Sit.”

You obeyed, the large plush seat nearly swallowing you. You fiddled with your hands-noting that they had been left unbound this time.

“Do you have any idea what the punishment is for those that try to escape my prison?” He questioned. You shook your head in response, not trusting your voice to remain steady. “A more barbaric king would likely have you put to death.” Thranduil noticed you becoming more anxious. “But do not worry, I don’t plan on doing such a thing.”

“O-Oh?” You stuttered.

“You must be quite clever to have out maneuvered my guards,” Thranduil continued as he poured another glass of wine. “It was surprising to learn that your escape failed because you stopped to help a fawn.”

“It wasn’t my greatest decision,” you admitted.

“Perhaps, but I think it’s ultimately been in your favor,” Thranduil hummed.

“What do you mean?” You questioned.

“What I mean is that I’ve reconsidered my original sentence. I believe I may have been quick to judge when you were first brought before me,” Thranduil paused. “I hear of all the happenings in this forest. Humans are typically uncaring of those around them. Despite your situation, you stopped to help another in need of aid. Quite a noble trait to possess, yes?”

“Yes, I suppose,” you replied. You had never considered yourself noble before. Helping others had always felt like the right thing to do.

“If it would be no trouble, I should like you to remain in Mirkwood-as my guest.” There it was. The point that this conversation had been leading to.

“I-Really?” You exclaimed. Just when you thought you were starting to understand how this world worked, you were blind sided once again.

“If you have family you would rather return to, I understand. We would be more than willing to supply you for your journey-“

“Oh, no,” you cut him off (which surprised him). “It’s not that. I just wasn’t expecting it is all. I appreciate the offer, and I totally except.” You were glad to finally move on from being a prisoner. The treatment in Thranduils dungeon was alright, but a prison is still a prison after all.

“Well, then,” said Thranduil, pouring a second glass of wine. “Let’s drink to the hope of newfound friendship,” he offered the glass to you. You accepted and raised your glass to him. A possible friendship with the king? Oh, this was going to be a story to tell.

___

Life in Mirkwood was very pleasant; spending your days exploring the endless gardens and library. You would share dinner with Thranduil once a week. Then twice a week. Then soon you would dine together most nights. You noticed how interested he was in your life-both before you came to Middle Earth and now.

What you didn’t notice were the whispers between the elves. Since the death of his queen, the king had been closed off. Now, he was showing such favoritism to a human woman. Sharing dinner with her. Strolling through the gardens together. Gifting her with clothes and her own dwelling. It wasn’t until Legolas brought it up did Thranduil notice how fond he had become of you.

“Ada?” Legolas asked one day.

“Yes?” Thranduil replied as he leafed through paperwork.

“I’ve seen you’ve become quite partial to (Y/N),” said Legolas.

“Hm, I suppose I have,” Thranduil paused from his work.

“Do you think you may have...romantic feelings for her?” Legolas hesitated before asking.

Thranduils eyes widened at what his son had said. “O-Of course not! Honestly, Legolas, I don’t see why you would say such things!” Legolas gave his father a look and turned to leave.

“If you say so,” Legolas teased before closing the door behind him.

Thranduil pondered over what Legolas had said. Yes-he could see it now. He had slowly become wrapped around your little fingers. Falling for you so slowly he didn’t even notice. He wanted to feel joy-could he have found a second companion at last? But he couldn’t help the guilt that clawed at his stomach. Many elves only married once. Though his wife was deceased, her soul still lingered in the Halls of Mandos. What then? Should he do you both a disservice and pursue his newfound love? Thranduil stood and paced the room, thinking of what he should do. Finally, he called to the guards outside the room. He had made his decision.

“How may we serve you, My King.”

“Tell Lady (Y/N) to pack her things. She must be gone by daybreak tomorrow. She is not to step foot in the Woodland Realm again, understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

Thranduil felt sick. This was for your own good, he kept telling himself. To be with you would only hurt you both. It had to be this way.

___

You wiped away your tears as you packed. You didn’t understand. Mirkwood was your home. Thranduil had become your closest friend, but now he was banishing you? You thought the Elvenking liked you, even entertained the thought that he more than liked you, but not now. Now you felt foolish. Of course it would never work. He was a stupidly handsome immortal king. You were a human girl from a different world.

You threw the last of your belongings into your bag. The guards escorted you out of the castle. Before the cart you were placed upon moved, you took one last look at the kingdom, trying to absorb every detail. The coachman urged the horses forward, and that was it. You would never see Thranduil again. As night fell, so did your tears.

Little did you know, you weren’t the only one who cried that night.

Tags: @themerriweathermage

#lord of the rings #the hobbit #thranduil #thranduil x y/n #thranduil x you #thranduil x reader #the hobbit x reader #the hobbit x you #the hobbit x y/n

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3pirouette · 3 years

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Fic: By The Sea (1/1)

Title: By the Sea By: TriplePirouette/3Pirouette Disclaimer: They're not mine. Word Count: Distribution: AO3 Anyone else please ask first :)

Part of the Nobody’s Baby Universe

Story Summary: Mandy’s first time at the Beach hijinks. Pure fluff.

A/N: Prompted by an Anon on Tumblr, Mandy’s first trip to the beach. She’s about just shy of 2 years old here, so you can imagine where it falls in the stories. There was about… a two-week hole from when I started this to when I finished it. Fluff doesn’t seem to be what my brain wants to focus on right now. Hope you all enjoy.

~*~

Peggy straightened; her one hand still held tight in Mandy’s as she pulled her sunglasses down with the other. “Well, this is quite embarrassing.”

Ana leaned over, holding the umbrella tight over the three of them as she whispered conspiratorially, “How long do you think it will take them?”

Peggy smiled, looking over the men a few dozen feet down the beach as they struggled with the poles and fabric that was supposed to be an easily assembled gazebo to keep them out of the sun. She shrugged and leaned over again, moving as Mandy toddled along, unsteady in the sand and dragging her along. “Well, we have the world’s strongest man, the world’s smartest man, and the world’s most patient man all working together.”

Ana followed, keeping the three fair ladies in the shade of the umbrella as Mandy led them back and forth in the new novelty of the sand. “So, next week then?”

Peggy laughed, and Mandy stopped, looking up and laughing, too, though she didn’t quite understand what she was laughing at. Peggy and Ana shared a look that lasted only a moment before Mandy pulled them along again. “Quite,” Peggy agreed. “If anything,” she ventured another peak over where Steve was consulting directions, Howard was blatantly ignoring them, and Jarvis was standing in the blaring sun, long suffering, “we’ll be lucky to have it for lunch.”

“Unch?” Mandy asked, looking up and smiling.

“Yes, darling, lunch.” Peggy repeated the word, exaggerating her lips. “Lunch.”

“Unch!” Mandy babbled it over and over, kicking her feet up and giggling as the sand kicked up into the air and squished between her toes.

“Want to switch?” Ana asked, holding out the umbrella.

“Ah, yes, please!” Peggy sighed happily, turning and handing Mandy’s sweaty hands over to Ana’s trusty grip. “She needs to grow six inches or I need to shrink. The leaning over is just terrible!”

“Aww, I think she’s just delightful the way she is!” Ana cooed the words, leaning over to kiss Mandy on the cheek as she adjusted her grip. “Though, yes, the leaning is terrible.”

Peggy stood, arching back as she held the umbrella over the three of them, the shade helpful but no match for the heat. “She’s gotten much steadier on her own, but…”

“Nard!” Mandy squeaked, pulling Ana along towards a group of seagulls.

“No darling,” Peggy followed dutifully, “that’s not Bernard, that’s a seagull.”

“Nard!” She tried again, this time taking one hand from Ana and pointing at a stray that was wandering closer.

“No, seagull.”

Mandy pouted, looking up at Peggy obstinately. “Nard!”

Peggy squatted down, meeting Mandy at her height and brushing the errant hairs from her sweaty forehead. “No. Darling, Bernard had to stay at the house. That is a seagull.” Peggy shook her head and looked at Ana as she stood. “I swear, Howard is on my shit list for ever introducing her to that bird!”

“Shit.”

Peggy and Ana both stopped and looked down at Mandy, who was smiling wide with the new word she’d just learned. She said it again. “Shit.”

Peggy turned away, smiling and waving at the boys who were somewhat farther along in their job, but still no closer to having any kind of actual shelter. “Steve is going to kill me,” she whispered to Ana, a hint of real panic in her eyes. “She said ‘damn’ three times last week.”

Ana chuckled, far less concerned. “She’s learning new words every day. Just ignore it and she’ll drop it.”

“Nard!”

“See?” Ana let Mandy pull away from her grip and toddle a few steps away. “She’s forgotten already!”

Peggy glanced back at Steve, dutifully still trying to hold poles in ways that seemed to defy gravity, knowing any anger he might feel would be minimal as he was having his own issues with curbing his language, as well. Mandy was silent for a moment, then her voice picked up a sound that Peggy had started to get far too familiar with and that meant mischief was coming. “Nard?”

Peggy swooped down, dropping the umbrella and grabbing Mandy right before she could grab a fistful of an unsuspecting seagull she’d managed to sneak up on. “Oh no, no touching the seagulls young lady!” Peggy kept her voice light, but she was frazzled enough that there was anxiety in her voice.

Mandy, however, was unhappy with being taken away from her find and let out a loud and shrill squeal as she squirmed to get out of Peggy’s hands and down to chase the bird that had now flow away. The sound caught the attention of most everyone on the beach, but especially Steve, who dumped the armful of posts and fabric he was holding into Jarvis’s hands without thinking before jogging over to Peggy.

Peggy was sure she would have found the way Jarvis slowly crumbled to the ground, trying his best to hold the weight of his new load and failing, quite comical had she not been trying her best to keep the squirming and crying toddler in her arms from running down the beach.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Steve was barely out of breath when he reached them, his arms out to be handed his daughter.

“Dad-dy,” Mandy moaned as he took her in his arms, as if Peggy had horribly wronged her by keeping her away from the seagulls.

“Drama queen,” Peggy whispered, shifting her caftan back in place. Steve just looked at her as Mandy burrowed into his arms, smiling. “She’s cross that I wouldn’t let her grab a seagull.”

“Oh, how dare Mama?” Steve cooed at Mandy as she quieted, brushing her hair back as he shared a look with Peggy over her head. “How dare she keep you safe!”

Peggy sighed, trying to pull Mandy’s disheveled hair back into the small ponytail they’d managed that morning. “How’s the hut coming?”

“Oh, you mean Howard’s overly expensive, overly complicated, tent?” Steve rolled his eyes and started to rock back and forth. “We’ll be lucky if it’s up by dinner.”

“We were hoping lunch,” Ana chimed in, stepping over and setting herself and Peggy under the umbrella.

Steve looked back, lips pressed tight. “If you guys can distract Howard, I think Jarvis and I can get it up by ourselves. He keeps trying to ‘improve’ the design.”

“Oh, good lord,” Peggy mumbled, reaching for Mandy and taking her in her arms. “Work fast, please? She’s getting cranky already.”

Peggy and Ana followed Steve back to the little site they’d staked out, far away from the other early morning beachgoers. Howard was on his knees, picking up pipe fittings and tossing them aside. “Why didn’t they include a J fitting in here?”

“Perhaps, sir, it’s because the design doesn’t call for one?” Jarvis asked, his voice far less sarcastic than the situation called for, as he tried to dodge and yet gather the pieces Howard was tossing away.

“Well, it should. It would make the design much better.”

“Howard!” Peggy called sharply, making the man look up. “Just the man I need. I have had a fabulous idea and need to speak to you about it just this minute.”

He turned back to his pile of fittings as Steve took Jarvis aside and whispered their play. “Alright.”

She pulled her sunglasses down and looked at him. “By the water.”

He set his hands on his knees, shaking his head at her. “I’m kinda in the middle—”

“My daughter is suffering, Howard. It’s a hot, humid day in the blinding sunlight and you’d deny my daughter the relief of the cool ocean water?” Peggy shook her head, clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth. “You’d deny your own goddaughter her first steps in the Pacific Ocean, Howard?”

Howard stood, brushing the sand off his knees, mock outrage on his face. “You make me sound like a monster, Peg!” He turned back to the pile of tent supplies. “Do you—” Howard hadn’t even managed a whole sentence, and Steve and Jarvis already had a tent pole set and secured. “Yup, I think they’ll be okay without me, lead on, Peg.”

Ana watched as they left towards the water and bent down, taking Howard’s place and sorting the connecting parts. “How long do you think Peggy will be able to keep him busy?”

“Oh,” Steve paused to lift a pole in place and waited while Jarvis secured it, “Peggy’s a wiz at wrangling him, I don’t know how she does it.”

“I find her handling of him quite spectacular,” Jarvis’ voice was high as he reached on his tip toes to secure a nut into place. He finished and slumped down, moving on to the next section, “I’ve managed to learn a thing or two from her in that regard.”

“What could she still possibly have to talk to him about?” Ana moved on to start sorting the lump of fabric that was supposed to go over the supports. “They just spent four days with the Colonel going through that entire Los Angeles office!”

“Who knows? She always manages to find some way of distracting him.” Steve set the last crossbeam up and secured it into place and looked at the bones of the tent, set securely in the sand. “Well, look at that, it really is easy to put up.”

“When you don’t have a narcissistic engineer trying to run the project,” Ana mumbled, pulling the light canvas wide.

~*~

Howard kicked the sand as they got close to the water’s edge. “I know what you’re doing, Peg.”

“Guilting you to come out to the water so they can get the tent set up so we can start our day at the beach?” She smiled, sitting at the water’s edge and sitting Mandy between her legs.

Howard sat down next to her, the edge of the waves running up just to meet their feet. “Something like that.” He wiggled his fingers at Mandy, trying not to sound maudlin. “It’s hard for me to not try, you know?”

Peggy let the girl crawl between them, one hand on her as she sat. “I know, which is why sometimes you need a friend to step in and remind you that you don’t need to impress us.” She smiled as Mandy patted Howard on the thigh then laid her head on him, babbling little noises to herself as she splashed her feet in the remnants of the waves. “See? She doesn’t care if you can make the tent better.”

Howard smiled, looking back out over the water. “You know, kid, you almost, almost make me want to think about settling down, you’re that cute.”

“Dah cu!” Mandy replied, smacking his leg a few times and sitting up, giggling.

Peggy held her own laugh back. “Yes, yes, you’re cute. We all know.” She leaned over and kissed the girl’s forehead before wetting her hand and letting it run over Mandy’s neck and back to cool her.

“How are they—” Howard laughed as he looked back, Steve and Jarvis on their knees, tying the last few flaps of the cabana in place. “Guess it was easy to set up, after all.”

Peggy stood and pulled Mandy into her arms, trying to wipe off the wet sand before she reached down and tapped Howard on the shoulder. “Come along, you. There’s fun to be had today, and we’re not letting a tent stand in our way.”

~*~

The shade was a relief for the small group, and between Steve and Jarvis they had the small set of tables and chairs set up quickly, and Mandy was out like a light in the little wooden pay pen as soon as they set her in it.

“You two should go for a swim,” Ana encouraged Peggy and Steve. “She’ll be no trouble while she’s sleeping.”

“Well, if—” The sound that came out of Peggy’s mouth after that couldn’t exactly be called undignified, but there were only so many noises she could make as Steve rushed her and flung her over his shoulder. “Brute!” she called, laughing as he nearly ran with her to the beach, arms pounding at his back.

Steve stopped, looking at her over his shoulder, one eyebrow raised. “You were about to ‘well’ your way out of it.”

She pressed her hands into his back and looked at him over the edge of her sunglasses. “I was about to say, ‘well, if you insist,’ darling.”

Steve slowly put her down, an impish smile on his face as she followed her the few steps back to the tent. “In my defense…”

Peggy turned and walked backwards, pulling her sunglasses off and looked at him seriously. “In your defense, I’m often a wet blanket.” She tipped her head and licked her lips. “Good thing for you, my intentions are quite different today.”

Peggy turned, stripping off her caftan to reveal a bright red bikini. She folded it and slipped off her shoes, dropping her things in a pile in the shade of tent. She set her hands on her hips, bright smile on her face as she turned back to him. “Well? What do you think? It’s French.”

Steve nodded, slowly stepping up towards her. Without another word he tossed her over his shoulder once again, heading towards the water. “I think I’m one lucky guy,” he laughed, setting her down at the water’s edge.

Howard stepped forward, watching from the shade of the tent as Steve and Peggy slowly made their way into the chill of the Pacific Ocean. “Who’d think it?” he wondered out loud.

“Who’d think what, sir?” Jarvis asked as he was setting out fruit from the picnic basket next to him.

Howard smiled, watching as Steve lifted Peggy out of the water keeping her head and shoulders dry as a wave hit him straight in the face. As it receded, she reached down, wiping the water from his eyes and kissing him softly. “Who would guess that the world’s best super solder and the world’s most dangerous spy are two idiots in love?”

Ana laughed from her chair, pulling out a book and peeking over at Mandy. “No one, which is what makes it even better.” She sighed, leaning back and opening her book. “God help anyone who crosses them, though.”

Howard scoffed, putting on his own sunglasses. “Oh, yeah.” He leaned out and looked down the beach. “I’m uh, gonna go meet some of the locals.” He looked around the small haven and smiled. “You two ok by yourselves the munchkin?”

“Quite fine, sir,” Jarvis replied, taking his own seat next to his wife. “Lunch will be ready at noon on the dot.”

Ana put her book down as Howard walked away, whistling as he made his way down the beach. From her chair she could see Mandy reposition herself, sighing as she fell back asleep, and Steve and Peggy laughing in the waves a few dozen yards down the beach. She reached out taking her husband’s hand. “How many girls do you think he’ll bring back this time?”

“At least two,” Edwin leaned back, kissing her hand before relaxing in the chair. “How long do you think the two of them will be out there?”

“Oh, until lunch, I’d say,” Ana looked out, smiling as they splashed each other, “Or until Peggy’s skin’s as red as her bathing suit, whichever comes first.” She lifted her book. “Poor thing hasn’t figured out how to deal with California sunshine.”

Edwin picked an apple from the spread on the table. “Don’t worry, I’ve packed the aloe.”

“Good man, Mr. Jarvis.”

“Well, someone has to take care of them.” He bit into the apple, chewing thoughtfully. “They may be dedicated parents, the world’s strongest man, the world’s best female spy, and then of course we also have the world’s smartest man, but none of them can cook or clean house if their life depended on it. And sewing? Ha!” He swallowed and looked over at his wife. “I’d say it’s quite lucky we all managed to find one another, wouldn’t you?”

Ana smiled, “Yes, quite, my love.”

#Steggy Fic #3P's Fic #Nobody's Baby #Anon prompted #FLUFF

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glockmonkey · 3 years

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Right-Hand Cat

A jmart fic! Cross-posted to ao3 here.

Jon finds a cat behind the safehouse: or, rather, a cat finds him.

Spoilers for everything up to ep.192!

Content warnings:

Cats, worry over nutrition/weight (of a cat), apocalypse (plus general eyepocalypse stuff), mild body horror, brief depiction of paranoia/being triggered (not sure what it counts as), following/stalking (by cats), brief worry over parasites (staged), swearing, food, worry over disease (unresolved)

----

Jon was trying to make use of the wild blackberries behind the safehouse, but this damned cat wasn’t letting him.

He’d nearly dropped the pail several times at this point, but the cat wouldn’t stop nagging him. Twisting in and out of his ankles, laying on the ground where he should have been kneeling. On one occasion, it had tried to get into his pail.

Jon had shooed him away hurriedly. He wasn’t sure if cats could eat blackberries.

It had been over an hour, and still the cat stayed. Jon nudged it gently with his foot so he could reach an obscured clump.

“Made a new friend?” Martin called from the back door. Jon blinked at the light from the open door.

“Ha, ha,” said Jon sarcastically.

“You should probably come inside. It’s getting pretty dark.”

“You’re probably right,” said Jon, standing up. The cat stood with him. “Copycat,” Jon muttered, and dusted himself off.

The bucket was heavier than he’d thought: he hoped the plastic didn’t crack under the weight of its contents.

Martin hummed upon seeing this. “Maybe we have too many.”

“Eh. Could always make a pie, or something.”

“Settling into that cottage lifestyle, are you?” said Martin. “Your friend seems to be, too.”

“What?” asked Jon, and then spared a look at his feet, where the cat had reappeared, squeezing its way into the door. “Oh, no you don’t.” He slid the door shut.

“Why not? It’s just a cat.” Martin looked at the cat, its sullen face pressed against the glass between them.

Jon shut the blinds, blocking the cat’s gaze completely. “Could have rabies, or something.”

“Yeah,” said Martin, his face falling. “I guess.”

----

The cat came back the next day. And the day after that.

Every time Jon stepped outside, there it was. In all its tuxedo glory.

Jon shut the door every time, but he couldn’t help but notice how scrawny it looked.

He couldn’t stop himself. He put two cans of fish into their trolley at the store one night. Then he put in some more.

“Tuna?” asked Martin, browsing the store’s limited amount of soups.

“Why not? We have crackers.”

Martin smirked, and Jon pretended that he hadn’t.

The walk back to the safehouse from the store was peaceful enough, as it were. The cool October air was still, for once, but the air was thick with humidity. Jon began to wish he had brought an umbrella.

Suddenly, he heard hurried footsteps behind him. He jumped, swiveling in his place, swinging his bag of groceries in defense.

Behind him was not some eldritch monster. It was a woman: middle-aged, crouched on the ground in front of a large black-and-white cat. He felt Martin’s hand on his arm, steadying him. He sighed in relief.

“Oh!” said the woman, as if realizing the panic she’d caused. “I’m sorry, I just-” she gestured towards the cat aimlessly. “I haven’t seen this kitty in a few weeks. She was following you, and I figured-” she stood up suddenly. “I’m Lindsey.”

Martin shook her proffered hand politely. “Martin. This is Jon.”

Jon tried for a friendly smile. The shock hadn’t quite worn off, so he figured it looked more like a grimace.

If Lindsey was offended, she didn’t show it. “Nice to meet you, Jon. Do you know this cat?”

“Oh, um.” Jon looked down at the cat, who was circling around his legs again. “Sort of? Is she yours?”

“No, not really,” Linsey said. “She used to belong to one of the teachers here, but after he passed, she’s just been wandering. We’ve tried to rehome her, but she never really seemed to take to anywhere.”

“Poor thing,” whispered Martin.

“She’s friendly, if you want to pet her,” said Linsey.

Martin kneeled on the ground. In an instant, the cat was there, purring and rubbing her face on his hand. Martin cooed.

“Traitor,” muttered Jon, and Linsey laughed. Jon couldn’t help but be reminded of Rosie, all the way back in London, and then he banished the thought.

“Does she have a name?” asked Martin.

“Depends who you ask,” said Lindsey. “I always call her ‘Sasha,’ though. That was her original name, anyhow.”

“Sasha,” murmured Jon, and sat down beside Martin on the sidewalk.

“Oh, dear,” said Lindsey suddenly. “I just felt a drop.”

A second bead of water fell on Cat-Sasha’s head, and she dove under Martin’s legs. He swiftly picked her up and zipped her into his jacket.

“Fleas,” muttered Jon halfheartedly.

“You two need a ride home?”

“No, thank you,” said Jon.

Cat-Sasha meowed in agreement.

“Alright, nice meeting you!” said Lindsey, and then she was gone.

“So, we’re keeping her, right?” asked Martin.

“I guess,” said Jon, a little too quickly. Martin smiled.

----

Since Jon had given in to Sasha, another cat had graced their presence. A tabby, this time, wandering their small garden.

Jon refused to do anything but leave food out for her, but Sasha mewed pitifully in her direction anytime the tabby appeared. Jon took to shutting the blinds at most hours, making the safehouse rather dreary.

“We can’t take in every stray cat we find,” he muttered, more to himself than to Martin.

“But they’re friends,” said Martin mournfully.

“They can still do cat things outside,” said Jon. “No reason we have to adopt her. She’s probably lived outside for a while.”

He still felt guilty when it rained, though.

----

Jon and Martin had taken to walking, in the past month. In the afternoons, mostly, when the sun was still out and Jon didn’t have to wear much more than a jumper. He still wore gloves, though, partly because he seemed to be permanently cold, and partly because Martin had made them.

It was nice, really. The hills rolling in the distance. His hand in Martin’s. The highland cows.

Plus, it meant they weren’t seeing the same safehouse and garden all the time.

Ahead of them, a man waved. Jon waved back, hesitantly.

“Have you met many of the neighbours yet?” asked Martin.

“Not really,” said Jon. “Except Lindsey. Have you?”

“No,” Martin sighed. “Haven’t had much inclination since, you know.” The Lonely, he didn’t say.

“Ah,” said Jon. He squeezed Martin’s hand tighter. It had been weeks since Martin had last Faded, but there was always a chance. Martin squeezed back.

“The streak in your hair still hasn’t faded,” Martin whispered sadly. Jon knew he still felt badly about what happened in the Lonely. He wished he didn’t. He wished he could - well. Know the guilt away, somehow.

“Neither has yours,” Jon said instead. “We match.”

“We match,” said Martin, smiling slightly.

“Not like it makes much difference on me, though,” said Jon, adjusting a pin in his grey-streaked hair.

“I suppose not.”

Jon caught sight of something in the distance. Something brown, and bulky. “Cows,” he said to Martin.

“Cats.”

“What?”

“Cats,” repeated Martin, smirking. “Behind you.”

“I’m not looking,” he said.

“You should.”

“If I don’t look, they’re not there.”

A furry, tabby form butted his ankle with its head.

Jon groaned, and looked.

Behind him stretched a small army of cats, gathered behind them both.

“Like a fucking Ghibli character, I am,” he whispered incredulously.

Martin gaped.

“A goddamn line. Like ducklings,” Jon went on.

“And a General to lead them,” said Martin, scratching Cat-Sasha’s tabby friend behind the ears.

“You did not just name the kitty stalker.”

“She’s made her point. I think this is a cat resume.”

“To be adopted?”

Martin grinned. The General meowed expectantly.

Jon scooped the cat into his arms reluctantly, where she promptly scampered to perch on his shoulder. “No more cats after this.”

“Yes, sir.”

----

Jon hadn’t seen many of the garden’s cats since the Change. Those that remained were wrong, and Jon was glad when they finally disappeared.

----

“Are you sure this is it?” Martin asked nervously.

“Yes, Martin,” said Georgie. “I think I know where to find cat hell. It’s not hard to miss.”

“Just checking. This place feels, I dunno.” Martin pulled his jacket tighter around himself. “Human hell-ish. Lots of screaming.”

“Lots of people are scared of cats,” said Melanie. “They’re very murderous.”

“That sure gives me hope for our field trip,” said Martin glumly. “Lead the way, Mrs. Frizzle.”

“I’ve got the earrings for it, so I’ll consider that a compliment,” said Georgie. “Be warned, though. The cats aren’t… quite right.”

“We know,” said Jon. “The safehouse had a few, before everything really got into place.”

“I’m sorry,” said Georgie.

“It’s okay.”

Jon heard a shriek from up ahead.

Melanie winced. “Doesn’t get much easier, does it?” she whispered to Georgie.

“No,” said Georgie. “It doesn’t.”

“Are they all that tall?” asked Martin, peering over the ridge they were cresting.

“What, you’re afraid of dinosaur cats?” asked Melanie playfully.

“I’ll have you know that dinosaur cats are bloody terrifying and oh my god why didn’t you warn us-”

“I did!” protested Georgie.

“The safehouse cats were like bad putty creations, not forty feet tall!”

Jon squinted into the distance. He could see, faintly, a tabby and a tuxedo cat - likely torturing some poor human.

“General?” he called. “Sasha?”

A booming mrrp? sounded across the clearing.

“Admiral?” yelled Melanie, and a furry form came bounding towards them, quickly followed by two others.

“Jesus,” Martin breathed.

“Cats!” exclaimed Georgie delightedly, amidst the chaos.

The cats came to a skidding halt in front of the ridge. Melanie put her hand out expectantly, and The Admiral butted it with his gargantuan head. Georgie followed suit, scratching behind his behemoth ears.

Before Jon and Martin, their two cats sat expectantly. Martin reached out tentatively with his hand to pat Cat-Sasha’s head. Jon worried her purring would cause an avalanche of some sort, but he wasn’t sure those happened anymore, without reason.

He had only just ruffled The General’s fur when he felt a familiar sensation. The Eye.

“I’m sorry, I…” he started, gesturing vaguely.

“It’s okay, Jon,” said Martin. “Go make your statement.”

Jon nodded, and walked away.

#@theemerald-7 helped name The General!!#glock fics #also... the title... Here comes The General from Right Hand Man from Hamilton...#long post #all the cws are under the cut so i don't think i have to tag them here..?#let me know though #ask to tag #the magnus archives #tma #tma fic #magpod #magnuspod #tma spoilers #tma s4 spoilers #rabies mention #disease tw

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lilixloveswriting · 4 years

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Whumptober 2020 Day 19 (Prompt: Grief | Mourning Loved One | Survivor’s Guilt)

Fandom: BNHA (This is an AU for my Next Gen...AU...😬)

Characters: Hitoshi Midoriya (OC), Mitsuko Midoriya kinda, she’s dead (OC), Izuku Midoriya, Ochaco Uraraka, Katsuki Bakugo, Saisho Kirishima (OC), Eijiro Kirishima mentioned, also dead, Kayda Todoroki (OC), Hisao Todoroki (OC), Akio Todoroki haha...you guessed it (OC)

Word Count: 4582

A/N: This may be a mistake since y’all don’t know these characters yet but it just fits all the criteria for today’s prompt and I just couldn’t pass it up. Umm so I wrote this in the car when I couldn’t sleep on a road trip from 2 am to 9 am. I never acctually planned on posting it anywhere, so...idek what I’m trying to say. It’s the darkest thing I had written at that point (and imo, still is my darkest piece) so...yeah. Buckle up, it’s a sad one also please note canon Hitoshi is not this mean

TW: swearing, dissociation, suicidal ideation, child whump (Hitoshi is 13/14), survivor’s guilt (obvi), grief (obvi), family member death, past death of minor (Mitsuko - age 17), emotional detatchment, blood, ptsd flashback (nightmare), panic attack mention, vomiting mention, eventually Hitoshi has a well deserved emotional breakdown

The pencil spun around Hitoshi's knuckles in sync with the second hand of the clock. He stared at it, waiting for it to hypnotize him so that he didn't have to be there for the rest of his session. It wasn't anything personal, his therapist was fine. Today was just a bad day. Not that his days were ever good, but today was a particularly bad one. One where he felt like running out into traffic, just to see what would happen.

"Hitoshi?"

His voice seemed so far away in his dissociative state. It was nice, kind of comforting actually. More so than the unbearable ringing that would occur sometimes when someone spoke to him. The accident fucked his hearing, that's what the doctors said. The accident fucked a lot of things.

56, 57, 58, 59, 4:00

Hitoshi snapped into action, catching his pencil in his hand and slipping it into his bag as he lobbed it over his shoulder.

"Who's coming to get you today, Hitoshi?"

"My dad." He responded with a grumble, not that it was any of his business.

"Okay. Is he here, or would you like me to wait with you?"

Hitoshi shrugged his shoulders, biting back a sarcastic remark as he turned the door handle to exit his therapist's office and enter the hallway. He knew the way back to the waiting room all too well by now: a left, then two rights, down the elevator, and straight down the hall. Hitoshi heard muffled sobbing as he passed one of the doors, sparing it a glance before continuing. He wondered what her problem was. He was a little bit envious, for whatever it was, at least she could express how she was feeling. Hitoshi never felt anything but anger. Sometimes he never felt anything at all.

He made a beeline for the stairway, not too keen on sitting in another silent room with his therapist.

"Getting your steps in today?"

Hitoshi rolled his eyes as he swung himself around the flat bit of the stairwell. Their session was over, couldn't this guy shut up?

He arrived at the waiting room soon enough, tucking his thumbs into his backpack straps as he scanned the room for his dad. Not here yet.

"Not here yet?"

"No, dingbat. Do you see him?"

"Hm. I've got some time before my next appointment. I can stick around for a while."

"Fuuuck me."

"Hey! Sorry, I went to the bathroom." Hitoshi turned towards the cheery voice he knew so well, a small sigh of relief escaping his lungs. "Hey, kiddo-" Izuku placed his hands on Hitoshi's shoulders, faltering as he moved and shoved the front door open. "Hey, hold on!" He called after his son, and Hitoshi did slow down, but he didn't stop. He left the building, then walked a few steps down the sidewalk, perching himself on the ledge of the window sill, his back to the building.

"Uhh…" Izuku sighed, "bad day?"

The therapist gave a vague shrug and Izuku frowned.

"What did he say? Did something happen at school? Did I do something? His mom?"

The therapist smiled apologetically, "I'm sorry, Mr. Midoriya. You should talk to your son."

Izuku bit down on his lip. "Please, just…tell me something. Anything." The words begged to escape his throat, but he swallowed them down and nodded. He understood doctor-patient confidentiality, but that didn't make it any less frustrating.

He bid Hitoshi's therapist goodbye, then joined his son on the sidewalk.

"Hey, kiddo." Izuku's voice sounded far away too, and Hitoshi wasn't sure if he wanted it to this time. He continued to stare at the curb of the sidewalk, the whizzing of tires lulling him off into another dissociative state. His father's voice was muffled and he didn't remember the walk from the sidewalk to the car.

"What's wrong, Hito?" Izuku turned to him, and he couldn't will himself to look away from the dashboard.

He didn't know what was wrong. Nothing, nothing was really wrong, but everything was wrong at the same time. He felt so fucking numb but ached all over at the same time. It was exhausting, he just wanted everything to stop. He wanted everyone to stop trying to fix him; he couldn't be fixed.

Hitoshi took a deep breath, willing all of his effort to move his tongue. "Nothing, I'm just tired." it was silent in the car, nobody moved and a wave of guilt washed over Hitoshi, though he wasn't sure what for.

"Survivor's guilt is a common occurrence. It won't be unusual for Hitoshi to feel as though he did something wrong for surviving the crash. Getting him into therapy sessions now is probably the best course of action."

"Can we go home now?" Hitoshi inhaled again as he reached for his seatbelt, jerking it over his body and clicking it into the buckle.

His dad put the car into drive and Hitoshi rested his head on the window.

"You wanna get some ice cream?" Izuku asked. Hitoshi shrugged and ten minutes later he had a chocolate ice cream cone in his hand. He had grown to hate the taste, but he ate it anyway because it made Izuku feel better.

It still felt wrong not to pass any napkins to Mitsuko to get it out of her hair.

Izuku flipped on the lights to his apartment; the "bachelor pad" as he called it. He had turned Hitoshi on to the idea of a man den when he was ten. They both knew this wasn't what he meant.

"Do you wanna-"

"I've got homework," Hitoshi said, heading straight to his room and shutting the door behind him. He kicked off his shoes and told himself that he didn't care enough to put them away, but the way they were scattered across the floor was a little too much like her, so he picked them up and lined them up against the wall.

He fell back onto his bed, exhaling deeply as he stared up at the popcorn ceiling. His room here wasn't too bad, it was a decent size and his dad even bought him a desk and helped him decorate it with figurines and pictures. He put the pictures away though, they made him feel uneasy.

"Hey," There was a short knock at the door and it slowly creaked open. Izuku stuck his head inside. "I know you want to be alone right now, but keep the door open, yeah? Just a crack, okay?"

Hitoshi sat up a bit and nodded at his dad, who gave him a weak smile in return.

"Okay. Thank you." He said, and Hitoshi appreciated that he didn't pry, even though he knew his father was worried. "Uh, is there anything you want for dinner?"

Hitoshi shrugged and Izuku sighed.

"Okay. Think about it and let me know, okay?"

Hitoshi nodded a little, knowing he wasn't going to decide on anything. He really didn't care.

"Okay. I'll leave you alone now. I love you," Izuku said and Hitoshi gave him a small smile, then he left, pulling the door closed with about an inch to spare.

Hitoshi let his head fall back onto the bed, exhaling in a puff as another wave of guilt crashed over him. He always saw the look in his father's eyes.

"Please give me something. Anything."

But he couldn't, no matter how badly he wanted to. He didn't even know what to say. His dad had always been emotional, he wondered how many nights he spent crying because Hitoshi couldn't even manage an "I love you."

He wanted to cry. He couldn't really remember what crying felt like, but he knew he used to feel better after he did. Now, he just felt bad all the time. He was tired of it.

Hitoshi flipped over onto his stomach, trapping his pillow between his arms and his face as his eyes fell on his bag. He had homework, but he couldn't convince himself to do it. The mere thought of it was exhausting and Hitoshi turned his head the other way, towards the wall.

The blood coated his fingers like syrup, making an awful squelching sound as it mixed with his tears. He applied pressure, he heard that somewhere, a tv show, he thinks. It was supposed to make the bleeding better or something, but it kept leaking and it soaked into his jeans and shirt and skin. He must not have been doing it right, maybe he was pressing too hard because Mitsuko kept gasping for air. Maybe he was choking her.

She turned to him and took in a shaky breath, eyes wide and bloodshot and she whispered in a spine chilling voice, "Help me, Hito."

Hitoshi gasped and in the moment of fear, loosened his grip on Mitsuko's neck. She screamed as the ground caved in, swallowing her whole, and Hitoshi couldn't do anything but scream her name as he reached in after her.

Hitoshi opened his eyes and lifted his head from his pillow, blinking a few times before looking around the room. He sighed, realizing it had been a dream. He wasn't sure which reality he would rather be in.

The faint smell of food caused him to sit up fully, and he looked at his nightstand to see a plate of pizza waiting for him. His dad had to eat alone again. Dick move, Hitoshi.

He rubbed his eyes as they fell on the window, the sun had already set. How long had he slept for? Hitoshi yawned and swung his legs over the side of his bed, taking a second before standing up and opening his door. He went to the living room, a short walk in the small apartment. His dad turned his head from the tv as Hitoshi stepped into the room, greeting him with a small smile.

"Hey. I don't know if you saw, but I left you some pizza. But if you don't want that then I can see what else I can make you."

Hitoshi shrugged, shoving his hands in his pockets. "It's fine." He whispered, and if you weren't listening for it you wouldn't have heard it.

"Okay. Mom called. I told her you were sleeping. You want me to call her back?"

Hitoshi shook his head and Izuku tilted his head to the side.

"Sweetie, you should call your mom." He said, prompting a sigh and a bit of an eye-roll from his son. He nodded in the end, though, so Izuku counted that as a victory.

"Later."

"Not too late. She probably has a shift in the morning, she'll be going to bed soon."

Hitoshi didn't respond to that. Instead, he walked around the couch and sat down next to his father. "What are you watching?" He asked, and Izuku was thrilled to be getting this many words out of him.

"I don't know. The news. Nothing special."

"Pro Heroes Ground Zero and Chargebolt work together in EPIC villain take down!" Izuku cleared his throat, switching the tv off before standing abruptly.

"Alright, it's late. Call your mom and get ready for bed, okay?" Izuku ruffled his hair and planted a kiss on his head. "Goodnight, I love you." He said, then went to his room.

Hitoshi stared straight ahead at the switched-off tv. He should get to bed soon so his dad's sleep didn't suffer. Izuku always waited until Hitoshi had gone to bed before actually sleeping himself. He sighed, staring at the phone on the coffee table. He didn't want to call his mom; calling his mother actually involved talking, and she was much more thorough than his father was. He didn't want to deal with that today. Still, if he didn't call her then it'd be his father who suffered and Hitoshi didn't want that.

She picked up on the third ring.

"What, Izuku?"

"Mom." Hitoshi said, leaning into the phone as it rested on his palm.

"Oh, hi honey. What are you doing on Dad's phone?"

Hitoshi shrugged, sighing in frustration as he realized she couldn't see him. "It was closer than mine."

His mother laughed. "Lazy butt. How was your day?"

"Fine."

"How was your meeting with your therapist?"

"Fine."

"Okay…how's Daddy?"

Hitoshi sighed as he looked over the top of the couch to his dad's room, door open and light on. "I'm slowly killing him."

"Fine."

"Okay, can you give me more than that, please? I miss you. Pretty please?"

Again, Hitoshi sighed. "He's okay. We got ice cream."

"Oooh what's the occasion?"

"He's sad that I won't speak to him." "Just…guys being dudes."

Ochako laughed, which provided some type of relief, even if it was only temporary. "Alright, did you guys get your homework done?"

"Yeah," He lied. He didn't want his dad to get reprimanded for his own destructive tendencies.

"Did you have a lot?"

"Not really."

"Any you struggled with?"

Hitoshi cursed silently, looking for a bullshit answer. "Algebra." Mitsuko was good at algebra.

"Oh, ummm, well did you two get it? If not you could snap a pic and send it to me and I can help. Or you could ask Kayda, I'm sure she'd love to help you."

"We figured it out."

"Of course you did, you're so smart." There was a pause when Hitoshi didn't respond. "Your dad is pretty good at algebra, huh?"

Hitoshi sighed. "Yeah." That's where Mitsuko got it.

"Okay, well it's getting late. As much I know you love talking to me, you need to get your rest."

"Okay."

"Okay. I love you, bubba. Goodnight."

"Night." He said and hung up the phone, letting it sit idly in his lap before he moved. He went to his father's room and peeked inside to see the bathroom door closed. He must have been showering. Hitoshi left his phone on his bed, then went back to his own bedroom. He laid down on his bed, not bothering to get under the covers, figuring he'd just get up and shower when he'd inevitably wake up again in two hours. Everything felt heavy, especially his eyelids, and he let them fall closed as he drifted off into the night.

✱✱✱

Hitoshi kicked at the ground as his hands gripped the sides of the chair. His cousin sat in the one next to him, resting her chin on her hand.

"He doesn't need whatever the hell this is, Katsuki-"

"I don't have anything to do with this, don't start with me."

Hitoshi sighed and bent down to pick up his backpack just as Katsuki and his mom burst through the door to the principal's office. His mom rushed over to him, cupping his face in her hands and repeatedly asking if he was injured. Hitoshi pushed her off and started towards the door, scoffing when Ochako blocked his path.

"Hitoshi, what happened?"

The brunette glanced at his cousin who rolled her eyes as she picked up her bag. "Nothing."

"Obviously, it's not nothing if you're both here-"

"Okay, would you shut up and let me parent my own kid?" Katsuki spat, and Ochako scoffed.

"You're not doing a very good job-"

"Mom," Hitoshi whined. Nothing good was going to come from this.

"Saisho, what the hell happened?" Katsuki asked and the girl rolled her eyes. "Don't you dare roll your eyes at me, do you know how many strings I had to pull to come get you?"

"Oh, yeah. 'Cause it's my fault, right? It's always my fault." She pushed past her dad, ignoring his angry shouts and walked out of the door. Hitoshi slipped around his mother, following Saisho's lead. He just wanted to go home.

"This is the third call I've gotten this month. Saisho, whatever the hell this is, you need to get it together because I'm sick of it."

"What do you think, I like you coming to my school and screaming at me in the halls?!" Saisho whipped around and shouted right back at her father, a few spikes growing on her arms. "Yeah, it's the highlight of my freaking week!"

"Watch your mouth!" Katsuki scolded her but she was ready to fire back with more sarcasm.

"It wasn't her fault, she had a panic attack!" Hitoshi shouted over them, grabbing both of their attention as well as his mother's. Quieter, he continued, "They pick on her, they wouldn't leave her alone. So I stepped in and then her quirk was all…you know and then…"

"What…is this true?" Katsuki turned to Saisho, who's breathing had picked up as she stared at Hitoshi. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because you don't listen! It doesn't matter."

"Of course, it matters. How could you even think that? You're supposed to tell me stuff like this-"

"She was just scared-" Hitoshi started, but was quickly stopped by a wry cry.

"Oh my GOD!" Saisho wrung her fingers through her hair, pulling at her scalp in frustration. She turned to Hitoshi, "Would you FUCK OFF?! Stop fighting my battles for me!"

"Hey!" Ochako stepped up next to Hitoshi, offended for her son who simply sighed and cast his gaze to the floor.

"Hey! Not okay!" Katsuki grabbed onto her wrist and she growled, yanking it away with all her might but still not able to get free.

"LET GO! Don't touch me! Stop!" She cried, clawing at Katsuki's hand. "Ugh! None of this would be happening if Dad was here!" She yelled, and that was enough for Katsuki to loosen his grip in shock. Saisho immediately ripped her hand away, stumbling backward in a fit of tears.

"I'm here! I'm here, sorry I'm late!" Izuku threw open the double doors, slowing down at the sight in front of him. "What…what's going on?"

Saisho let out one more frustrated sob and stomped forward, shoving past Izuku to the parking lot.

Izuku gave Katsuki a look, which he ignored and started after his daughter. Izuku grabbed him by the arm before he could get passed. "Hey-"

"Don't touch me!" Katsuki yanked his arm away, whipping around to face Izuku. "You're not the only one who lost someone in that accident, you know?! And that's what it was, an accident! It was an ACCIDENT! I'm sorry! You know I'm sorry! And you can punish me all you want, but don't you fucking drag her into it because she lost a parent!" He pointed out at the parking lot, tears welling up in his eyes and Hitoshi realized this was the first time he'd actually seen his uncle cry.

Izuku didn't stop him from leaving after that, and the broken family watched the blond storm out of the school.

"Okay…what the heck did I miss?" Izuku held his arms out to his sides as he approached his son and ex wife.

"More like why the hell did you miss? Izuku, where were you? I know they called you after they called me." Ochako stepped towards him, arms crossed over her chest.

"I was working-"

"So was I."

"I was all the way across town!"

"What happened to your super speed, Mr. Full Cowling?"

"Okay, I'm not doing this with you right now. Hitoshi-"

"No, you don't get to do that. You don't get to dodge my questions like they aren't important."

"I am trying to check on our son!"

"He's fine! I already checked, because I was here."

"Well I am here now and I would still like to know what happened."

"He was in a fight!"

"You were in a fight?!" Izuku echoed, turning to Hitoshi with a shocked look on his face.

Hitoshi raised his eyebrows and his mouth dropped open in surprise. "What?! No, it wasn't a fight-" He started, but was interrupted by his mother before he could finish.

"Maybe you could have done something to prevent it if you actually talked to him."

Izuku recoiled, his eyebrows furrowing and his mouth morphing into a scowl. "I do talk to him."

"Oh yeah? What do you talk about?"

"We…Ochako, this isn't fair-"

"You want to know what isn't fair? What isn't fair is that I'm stuck being his mom after you decided to be his friend! Let me guess what you had for dinner last night: whatever he wanted?"

Izuku frowned. "Actually, we had pizza."

"Oh, pizza! Even better!"

Hitoshi shut his eyes, scrunching his nose up as they continued to bicker. He was sure the classrooms down the hall could hear, and he didn't need to add anything else to his souring reputation. "You guys, can we please go home-"

"Shush!"

"Not now!"

This was how they'd been since the funeral. They argued constantly; over why the dishes weren't done (Mitsuko always did them), about who's turn it was to buy groceries (Mitsuko did most of the shopping), about whether they were going to keep Mitsuko's door open or closed.

The last one didn't last long because Izuku moved out a few months after. He wanted her door closed, but now Ochako could keep it open.

They argued over Hitoshi a lot too, and he remembered when he first saw the headlines: "Pro Heroes Deku and Uravity Messy Divorce After Loss of Child!"

He threw up after reading it.

Things were better after they separated. Well, not better, but at least they weren't fighting all the time. They had gotten better at communicating, but he still hated being in the same room with both of them at a time. It was times like these where he wished his sister was still here, or at least that Saisho didn't hate him.

He guessed this was the type of stuff he was supposed to tell his therapist. But how was he supposed to say it when it felt like talking about her was forbidden? Her name was like a lit match, waiting to be dropped on a stick of dynamite embedded deep inside of the Earth's core, ready to blow his world to pieces. He lost himself in these thoughts, spiraling down and down and down until he'd forgotten what reality he was in.

His dissociation was dangerous because he would sometimes wander without realizing it until someone woke him up. This time, it was Hisao.

Hitoshi blinked as Hisao shook his shoulder, staring at him with a concerned look on his face. "Are you okay? Here, come in." He ushered and Hitoshi listened realizing his clothes were damp. He must have walked there in the rain.

"KAYDAAA!" Hisao shouted, and from the annoyed look on his face it didn't seem like it was the first time. "I don't know where she is. Damn, I've got a thing to go to, I just stopped by to pick up some tools. Here, uh-" He flipped the switch to the fireplace and it lit up. "I'll go get you some dry clothes."

"What do you want?" Kayda came down the stairs, her irritated expression faltering as she laid eyes on Hitoshi. "Hito-chan…what…?" She started and looked to Hisao who shrugged, bounding up the stairs to get clothes for Hitoshi.

Kayda finished down the stairs and jogged over to Hitoshi, who was shivering now. "What are you doing here?"

Hitoshi shrugged. "I don't know." He truly didn't.

She frowned and grabbed a blanket from the couch, wrapping it around his shoulders.

"Mom and dad were fighting." He mumbled and her shoulders slumped. He felt bad for unloading onto her like this. Mitsuko was her best friend after all.

"Okay! They're gonna be pretty big, but it's better than what you're wearing, so," Hisao appeared next to them, handing Kayda the dry clothes. "I'm late to meet with Jisoo, so are you guys okay? Should I…?"

Kayda shook her head. "Go on, we'll be fine."

Hisao muttered a quiet "kay" and quickly left the house, leaving Kayda and Hitoshi alone.

"Here, why don't we get you changed?" Kayda helped him stand and led him to the bathroom, handing him the clothes before he closed the door.

About fifteen minutes later, he was curled up on the couch with a mug of hot chocolate.

"You know," Kayda sighed, picking at the blankets they were curled up with, "When Akio died…I wanted to die too. Well, not literally. I just couldn't…grasp the concept of living in a world where he didn't exist. I was so mad at him for…leaving me behind."

Hitoshi stared down into his cup. "It's not the same."

Kayda looked at him, then swallowed and nodded, sniffling. "I know."

Now he made her cry. When was this ever going to get any easier?

"I guess what I mean is," She sighed once more, allowing her hands to fall into her lap, "I've lost two important people within the last couple of years. So if you ever need someone to talk to…"

Hitoshi nodded. Kayda was nice, she had always been nice to him. But if he couldn't talk to his therapist, someone who his parents were paying to listen, how was he supposed to talk to his dead sister's best friend?

"Why didn't I wake up sooner?" Well,he's done it. Kayda raised an eyebrow and he, somehow, continued, "If I had…" He stopped, an involuntary sob bobbing in his throat, "She was just…lying there. She was all alone." He whimpered and his vision went blurry before he felt a warm wetness on his cheeks. "If I had…if I had woken up…s-sooner-" He coughed in his own tears, bringing a hand up to cover his face.

It had been a long time since he cried, and now that it was finally happening he didn't like it. His face was hot, and his head felt like it was going to explode from the sheer effort he was putting in to keep his tears from falling. Effort that didn't matter, because they were falling anyway, like a dam that had been patched up with gum, water spurting out of every crack, every crevice it could find. And to top it all off there was this sharp pain in his chest and he couldn't stop his lungs from seizing as he gasped for air, choking on his sobs and coughing when he couldn't get enough of it.

Warm arms restricted his shaking and he pressed his head into Kayda's chest, her hug providing some sense of security as he cried until his eyes swelled. Mitsuko would have made fun of him for this, and the thought only made him cry harder, pleading to some sentient being for the past year to have been a nightmare. Unfortunately for Hitoshi, said sentient being must not exist, because his desperate prayers went unheard.

She whispered little reassurances, and though he didn't believe them, they made him feel a little bit better. His breathing slowed and his cheeks dried, though his head still pounded like a drum. He would have fallen asleep if he hadn't pulled away, hiccuping as he wiped at his eye.

"I should tell my parents where I am." He mumbled, taking out his phone and struggling to type in the pass code with his shaky hand.

"They don't know?" Kayda inquired, to which Hitoshi shook his head. He hadn't told him he was leaving, and they had been too caught up in their argument to notice.

He shot them a text, nothing fancy or anything more than an address. He didn't want to talk to them. He was tired.

But he did feel better. Even if it was just a little bit.

2 notes · View notes