jomamaofficial - Tumblr blog

jomamaofficial · 1 month

Text

The Chronicles of A Hero's Daughter pt.2 (Father!All Might and Daughter!Reader Angst Oneshot)

A/N: SO, THIS WAS ASKED IN MY ASK BOX. BUT I STUPIDLY REPLIED TO IT SO I DON'T KNOW WHICH ANON ASKED FOR IT SO I'M JUST GOING TO TAG EVERYONE WHO LIEKD THAT POST HERE AND HOPE IT'S THE BRILLIANT ANON WHO WANTED ME TO WRITE A PART 2. @dark-magic-phoenix @crystal-freak24 @observaureium @justtovi3w62. As always, my Ask Box is open for any requests or just a conversation. Please remember to take care of yourselves, and enjoy. As always, I would love to see your thoughts in the comments :). TW: Graphic descriptions of blood (coughing blood), graphic imagery of crushing a heart (doesn't happen, just explained) CW: difficult father-daughter dynamics. Taglist: @thatcatladywrites @smikys-stuff @kimberlyfletcher @dawnwriterimagines Masterlist Word Count: 1951. Summary: One argument led to another– the foundation of your family was built upon suffering and sacrifice. Secrets were unveiled, revealing the true intentions of your father, the lingering wounds of the past stinging harder than any cut has ever. With tension reaching a breaking point, what happens when you confront your father, searching for the harsh truth, even if it leads to a devastating decision– you will never be the same again. He will never be the same again.

——————————————————————————————————

Toshinori’s chest rose and fell.

“You don’t mean that…”

A pang struck through your heart as your father’s laboured breaths increased, tailing off in steady wheezes that only grew louder.

“Dad…” you whispered, closing your eyes. “Dad, I didn’t m-”

Your voice cracked, succumbing to the hot tears which burned against your cheeks. Emotions flooded your head, as though they had been waiting to escape from the dam of truth that you had to silence to protect the peace in your family. The pressure had built up and that dam had finally broken in the most irreparable way possible.

Shame hammered your mind, delivering blunt throbs as you watched your dad clutching his frail chest in agony.

Guilt drilled poison into your veins as your father struggled to stand up– his sickly body unable to bear this pressure. His airways had been restricted, thus his once strong and proud chest had nothing to show but a vacant cavity, struggling to hold itself up.

This living room had always been small– enough space just for the two of you. Dad and his little hero. It had always been you two, but today, this room was longer and narrower, as though mocking your sanity which had become a battlefield.

Would you protect your father and carry on living in this dollhouse family, of which the foundations were built off of your suffering.

Or would you protect yourself and destroy your relationship with the only family that you ever had.

The struggle had refused to forsake– silence had become your greatest enemy. It had left you alone with your screaming thoughts of doubt that deafened your conviction, leaving you straggled, naked, and vulnerable in the vast depths of your fears because what if.

What if Midoriya truly was better than you?

What if you truly were not worth it?

What if you had lost your rights to call yourself his daughter.

Forever.

You had lost everything to the ravenous beast which ruined everything you touched, and it wanted more. It wanted more, so it began making more noise, howling over the whispers of the wind, it howled over the ticking of the clock. It howled until nothing could be heard.

Silence.

It had become silent.

As though you were the only person in the room.

A sudden thud drew your attention to the floor.

Toshinori collapsed on the ground, and his eyes had gone blank, jaw slack. His ribs stuck out from under his skin, showing through his thin white t-shirt as his brassy cough filled his mouth with blood.

He urgently covered his mouth with his hands, forcing it shut but to no avail. It had already slipped past his hold, travelling down his neck, staining his shirt. A constant offender.

Your father began developing bloody coughs over three years ago. Yet every time you saw his chest heave and bleed, surges of nausea would creep up your veins, forcing you to leave.

“Dad!”

This was too much blood. It wasn’t meant to be like this… The doctor said a few drops or so, maybe a teaspoon, but that was ‘highly unlikely’. You watched as his white shirt became saturated, dizziness threatening to blur your vision.

But you could not see him like this. You didn’t think twice before rushing to help him– but you were stopped.

Toshinori raised his shaking hand immediately. You were halted, frozen in disbelief.

He put his hand back on the floor, taking a few breaths before pushing himself, warranting another step forward from you, another cry, but he just stopped you again. You could only watch as your father relied on his bony wrists to push himself up.

You could hear his shallow gasps for air, and his repressed coughs– and all you could do was watch your father’s face contort in fatigue and ache. Toshinori had finally gotten up, but that look had not left his face as he pushed past you. You watched the limp in his leg as he hobbled towards the couch, slowly lowering himself onto the cushioned couch. His head slumped onto the head rest, limbs unfurling in exhaustion.

You were suspended in your head, unable to move past the questions which rung bright sirens.

You shouldn’t have raised your voice at your own father– the doctor had told you. He’s injured, he’s getting older. He can’t process such shocks like this anymore.

What was wrong with you?

But it couldn’t have been just your fault… right? But then he pushed you– maybe he didn’t just notice– but what if he did it on pur-

“Y/N”, your father had called for your name, but his eyes did not meet yours.

Instead, they looked past you.

Toshinori Yagi adopted Toshinori Y/N when she was five years old.

A decade after the first quirk was discovered, many adoption agencies in Musutafu began sorting children based off of a ‘ranking system’.

Official documents stated that this case was first brought up in the Supreme Court due to an incident that had occurred in an orphanage near Musutafu, 26 years ago. It was a heartbreaking case of manslaughter that had taken place when six year old Chihiro Onodera– Quirk: Lava, accidentally murdered eight year old Honoka Sugo– Quirk: Bubbles, during lunch time as they were play-fighting.

It did not take much convincing as this case had reached international news, thus the court immediately passed a bill on the separation of quirks preliminary based off of their strength and danger levels, which were to be evaluated on a scale of 1 to 5.

Nevertheless, this bill had struck a controversial match, becoming the largest contemporary topic that was disputed over in the past years.

Demonstrations, protests and violent public outrage reached its peak when leaked intel revealed that a lot of children began to go missing from Adoption Agencies under the radar– they no longer had papers, as if their identities had been erased off of the face of this Earth.

Nanami Tomoda, Sae Ojima, Makoto Kanezaki– these were some of the household names that had garnered petrifying national and international headlines:

Heartbreaking Tragedy Strikes Japan: Devastating Attack Leaves Communities Reeling

Japan in Shock: Deadly Assault Rocks Nation's Sense of Security

Aftermath of Brutal Assault Leaves Nation Grieving Chaos and Carnage

Not much was known about these young adults.

Apart from two things.

First.

They were not independent contractors. All of them could be traced back to some of the very few established, powerful, underground organisations.

And second.

They were all orphans, rated 5, who had been declared missing for ten or more years.

Toshinori Yagi adopted Toshinori Y/N when she was rated 5.

Toshinori Y/N lost her quirk at age ten.

You are rated 0.

Zero.

Toshinori took a deep breath before he spoke.

“I have raised you since you were five years old.” He still did not meet your eyes. “I raised you in hopes that you would become a strong, and powerful young lady.”

He drew a breath in– it was laced in disappointment.

“But why does it feel, as though it has had no influence on you?”

Toshinori shifted both of his arms onto the couch rests, sitting tall.

“One does not become a hero by winning every fight. Not everything is about a hero’s physical strength. A hero is made when they understand that retaliation only makes them the real villain.”

Your father’s voice had deepened, and so did the dreadful pit in your stomach that sunk your resolve.

“A true hero understands that strength lies in the ability to rise above the pain. Because those who focus on what has been lost”, he continued, lips twitching, as a faint, uncontrollable tremor laced his words in indisputable venomous contempt, “are either insane, or desperate for attention they know they will never get.”

Small muscles in your face began to twitch despite the heaviness that had been pulsed through your body, holding it in place, as you just stood there. Your eyes, once red and exposed, had no inhabitant, no focus.

A ghost town.

“A true hero is grateful. And recognises every bit of effort someone else put in order to get them to where they are now.”

His gaunt eyes found yours, casting an unfamiliar chill in your body. They were sunken in, casting his gaze in dark shadows– an abyss impenetrable by light.

“You got your quirk stolen, Y/N. But you cannot get that back anymore. But it’s been years, I expect at least some gratitude considering I did you a favour by adopting you.”

He had left a clot that blocked your heart.

“Because no one else would have wanted you.”

It is always the one closest to you that hurts you the most.

The man you called your father had waited until the last second to take the satisfaction of crushing your heart, flesh against flesh.

Humans evolved to gain resistance and immunity against everything that threatens their survival.

Therefore, living with this man only meant that you had to gain immunity against pain and humiliation, because that was the only thing that could guarantee your survival.

So when you shook off the heaviness in your lid and focused onto your father’s face, you could only lift the corners of your lip.

“If you didn’t want me. Someone else would have adopted me instead. Like you did. No papers, no nothing– I’d slip under the radar, at least I’d still have my quirk, and end up on those headlines.”

“How dare you?” he uttered, face contorted in malice.

“I was five. That’s why you adopted me. Don’t deny it”

Toshinori stiffened, his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. His shoulders, broad and hubris, had become small and meek. You watched him contemplate: his eyes, vindictive and daring, were cast down, hiding amongst the Tatami flooring.

“My child…” he began, his voice softer. “After your quirk had been stolen, I could not risk making you the target again. That’s the reason I don’t come to your events. It’s because you’ll become the target everyone goes for because they know you’re my daughter”.

“They’ll know?” your lips had pressed into a thin line. “Like how Midoriya knew I was your daughter? Like how the media knows?”

In the stifling air, your dry laughter bounced off of the discomfort.

“Don’t act like you aren’t ashamed of me.”

Your face had settled into a stone.

“It’s not about me being a target. It’s about protecting your image.”

“My daughter-”

“You have lost the right to call me your daughter. If I was such a disappointment after my quirk was ripped away from me, why did you keep me? You could have sent me back. Why did you keep me, dad, why did you keep me!”

Those closest to you, leave irreparable wounds.

But there was a reason they were close to you. A reason that subsided in love, care, and hope.

Your crushed heart was surviving on its last breath, waiting to hear something that could revive it.

Toshinori lifted his head again, his eyes flickering behind you.

It locked onto an object that somehow gained more attention than you ever had in your entire life. You risked a look over your shoulder, only to see the picture of your father and Midoriya, smiling–almost mockingly– back at you.

You knew what the answer was going to be.

“I’m beginning to question the same thing.”

A flat-line.

“Well if that’s how you really feel, I have no obligation to stay here anymore.”

You drew your breath in, words suspended at the tip of your tongue.

“I wish you and your student the best of luck, All Might.”

134 notes · View notes

jomamaofficial · 1 month

Text

An Empty Vessel pt.3 (Dabi x Fem!Reader Dark Angst)

A/N: As promised, I have come with Part 3. I can’t lie, I did not expect to have so many parts to this series (me personally, I thought it would be a oneshot), but guys, seeing all the love y’alls are giving to this series is just AHHH. It fills my heart with joy <3. I urge you all to read the TWs and CWs because this series as a whole is just dark. As always, my Ask Box is open for any requests or just a conversation. Please remember to take care of yourselves, and enjoy. As always, I would love to see your thoughts in the comments :). TW: Substance abuse (alcohol, smoking), small mention of mass murder and a reunion with abusive lover. CW: swearing. Taglist: @marlenemckinnonsleftfoot @sukunasleftkneecap @istoleyourmanho3 @witherfag @porusuniverse @iluvoaldmen @genshinsimpforlif @shadowmoonlight0604 @simpsimpson2023 @crybab7 @kaeyastittysucker @jennieyeager @an-ever-angry-bi @gyarukitti Masterlist Word Count: 2207. Summary: Saira Uchiyama. His past had caught up to him in the form of a family– Touya Todoroki had no family but Dabi could not deny the existence of his. The existence of a family that had driven him to search for a name he had never even heard of. Dabi's fragile world unravelled; every single thread forced him to confront the consequences of his actions. Was it even her? The one he had beat and shut out of his life? Dabi’s mind hurt, because it finally intertwined with the realisation of the irreparable damage he had caused.

——————————————————————————————————

Dabi has had his overcoat for a long time.

It was the first thing that was ever made for him, and only him.

He never had to share it.

The material was light; he could move quickly without the weight dragging him down.

The material was heat-resistant, so he didn’t have to worry about incinerating his clothes during a fight.

His clothes allowed him to let go. Dabi could explore the forbidden fruits of his full potential because the material allowed heat to escape– because of the fabric’s ‘enhanced breathability’ or something. He never paid attention. But it worked, so he always had it on.

Dabi made his way up to the roof, ignoring the small cries of his name from the distance. It wasn’t on purpose though– he couldn’t concentrate on anything else. His mind had to work hard to think about nothing. Because if his conscience took over, his chest would collapse.

There wasn’t anything left inside of him anymore. That’s what he had recited every waking day of his life as Dabi. But God, he needed a cigarette– to fill that hollow feeling inside of him.

A few long puffs always did the trick. Although it felt best when he was on the roof, legs hanging off the ledge.

One of his favourite hobbies was to look at the city under the glistering stars.

Yokohama never slept. The little toy cars had small people that were always going somewhere. Their blinking red lights mirrored the sea of stars on the bumpy road. At such a distance, where cars disappeared from one end to the other, that journey seemed so mindless. Yet still, everything felt like… like it was still in place. As if everything about this world was truly intentional.

Dabi dragged a longer puff, throwing his head back, succumbing to the gentle breeze and his thoughts.

But in the end, you couldn’t make out any face, let alone their identity. Everything became insignificant. All that mattered was the action.

Dabi could distinguish between a walking figure and a jogging figure. Whether they were alone or with others.

But in the end, everything else was insignificant when he was above them all.

So far up, that if he fell– right now– he wouldn’t come back.

Anyone could push him off.

“There you are!”

Dabi grimaced. His soothing bubble had been forcefully broken, and he was dragged back to reality. He had his suspicions on who it was.

“I thought we could use a drink or two.”

His eyes glowered at the approaching figure. He could never be left alone. But when the bottle of scotch was handed to him, the interruption wasn’t too bad after all. Dabi jerked his head towards the empty space beside him.

He could hear careful steps approaching, then cautious shuffling beside him.

Had he stolen a glance in his peripheral vision, he could watch the gentle breeze tease her hair, sweeping it left and right.

He felt a chaste glance on his face.

There was a thin, yet strong wall between them. It was thin enough to talk through– although it left no room for subtlety. It was thin enough for them to warm each other. But if they tried to cross it, they’d have to break it down, and crush the other under the weight of the wall.

There was a lingering sense of emptiness that filled the night sky.

Empty smiles, empty vessels.

She drew in a breath, but no words followed, as though she had forgotten how to speak.

“Today was…” she started, only to falter off into silence, her hands rubbing at her arms.

Dabi had his overcoat for a very long time.

It was the first thing that was ever made for him. And only him.

He never had to share it.

But it felt way too heavy today. And despite the gale tightening its frosty clutch, Dabi could feel his body heating up.

“The plan was successful”, Dabi replied flatly, “that’s all we need to care about”.

He pushed his discarded jacket towards her. She slipped it around her shoulders.

The League’s attack on downtown Esuha was broadcasted globally, and they had finally reached the headlines of every news article.

‘Bloodshed Strikes Downtown Esuha as Villains Unleashed Devastating Attacks’

After years of failed plans, the League of Villains had finally succeeded.

No man, no woman, no child was left. But it was all worth it.

Wasn’t it?

Their plan was the highlight of every media discussion.

Dabi took a larger sip of his drink, bathing under the serene wave which washed over his inhibitions.

And the wall between them felt thinner and weaker.

“D’ya think your mom would ever sacrifice herself for you?”

The vivid images of fresh blood and visceral screams haunted their mind.

“What did that woman say again?” Dabi asked, his voice cracking, “‘take me, but please, leave my baby alone’... That’s what she said right?”

Both of their eyes lowered. The alcohol and the little food he had consumed was kicking against his stomach lining, irritating his abdominal grafts.

“‘She has a long life ahead of her. Please, please, don’t kill her please’”, Dabi heard a sniffle. “That’s what she said before we…”

He felt sick.

“That’s what we do, doll.”

He met the pain in her eyes. They were a mirror.

Dabi clenched his jaw before looking away.

She did too.

Dabi began biting his fingernails, and her hands fidgeted with the glass.

And then they looked at each other again, somehow closer than they were in the beginning.

“I don’t know if my mom would ever do that for me… But, I-hm…”

A dry chuckle followed in a feeble attempt to humour the situation.

But Dabi finished her unspoken sentence.

“But you would, right? For your child,” he asked, furrowing his eyebrows and squinted, trying to make out some of the writing on the tall buildings afar.

“Any mom would do that for her child.”

“Didn’t you just say th-”

“Any good mom would”.

No one spoke. But they shared a knowing look, before averting them back to the vastness of Yokohama.

“But to be honest…” She took another sip of her drink. “If I had a baby, I’d never live in Musutafu.”

Dabi let out a snort, thus earning a playful shove in return.

“Oh yeah? Then where would you live, fucking Minato City?”

It was her turn to snort.

“You think I’d live in a rich neighbourhood to avoid being a target of criminals and villains?” She scoffed, slurring out her words. “I know I’m the newbie but you have to give me some credit, Dabi.”

He rolled his eyes, yet they still urged her to continue.

She thought for a moment, her gaze wandering off into the distance, before she continued again.

“There’s this place, just outside of here. It’s called Yosai. It’s this remote residential area. And, um. It takes around 30 minutes minimum, to find any markets, or- or any offices or clubs, and you know, all that stuff. I think, for most people, it’s like- really boring. And that’s why it’s so isolated. No one even thinks of going there because there’s literally nothing. There’s a park, and a local school– I think, but there’s no one. Nothing. There’s these houses- a lot of them! A bunch of houses with no one to live in them”.

It was weird, to be talking, uninterrupted, for this long.

“I guess”, she shrugged a bit, blinking a few times. “Recently, people have started building roads and stuff for cars now. So they can actually do something. But yeah. Zero reported crimes and it’s been there for a few decades. So yeah, if I had a family, I’d go there”.

She looked intently at Dabi, who didn’t say anything.

But he moved closer, leaning forward, sitting upright. He scanned her jittering hands before searching in his pant pocket. He raised his eyebrows at the cigarette in his hands. She nodded. So he lit it, pressed the ends to his lips and inhaled before giving it to her.

He watched her lips touch the cigarette. Where his lips were.

“There’s actually this property under her maiden name- my mom’s. There’s still some legal stuff I need to sort out before it actually becomes mine. It’s like this, it’s so stupid, because it’s like obviously none of us use that maiden name anymore. But because of that they can’t give it to us. I don’t even know… But I guess it’s nothing too difficult”.

“Ah”. That was all he could say. But when he peered into her expectant eyes, there was a sudden need to elaborate. Anything better than ‘ah’ at least.

Dabi felt dizzy.

“Umm… What's your mom’s maiden name?”

“It’s Uchiyama.”

When his delayed voice finally caught up to him, Dabi winced.

“Fuck”, he muttered. It was a stupid question, but he wanted to make sure that she knew he was listening.

They were closer, breaths intertwining with each other under the watchful eye of the moon.

There weren’t any buses that travelled from Musutafu to Yosai. Dabi made his journey by foot.

Thus, during this four day journey, Dabi became well acquainted with people.

And he noticed that a lot of people in Japan had blue eyes. After the emergence of quirks, blue became a common colour for many. The truly rare ones were pink, or purple now.

But Dabi’s eyes… they were different.

His eyes.

They were handpicked from the colours in the cerulean depths of the stormy sea. Whispers of secrets remained untold– that’s why no one could have the eyes that he had.

Never.

They were gleaming– echoing the beauty of the lights in the North. Depending on how you looked at them, they were teal, or sapphire. One thing was indisputable– the arctic chill they’d give when he’d pierce into your soul was breathtaking.

His eyes.

They were simply breath-taking.

So when he towered over a small frame, gaze lowered, he could not explain the way his heart forgot to beat when he stared into a perfect replica of his eyes.

With each beat, lost time unfolded in front of him.

And he noticed the slight difference in the silent expanse that he had gazed into.

There was an innocent reflection of the North Star twinkling in their genuine, rolling waves. Dabi’s eyes were an abandoned lighthouse.

But, what alarmed him the most, was when those flawless replications turned frozen. Dark.

Petrified.

Dabi's heart ached as those eyes formed fog and mist, obstructing him from reaching the truth that was hidden beyond the plane of sight.

His knees surrendered under the accumulating guilt of his past. And so his tears fell, trying to escape the grief and strain his weak body had repressed for so long.

“Honey, are you okay? Who’s at the door?”

Icy tendrils spiked through him, and his breath was captured without a fight. In the wake of realisation, his body signalled all the alarms they could, telling him– no, begging him to run, but, his blood had turned to ice, and he succumbed in the paralysing grip of his inevitable fate.

“Sana, are you okay…”

He heard the voice taper away, followed by a sharp clink of a metal spoon. His laden head fixed itself downwards in shame, guilt, fear…

“Dabi…?” Those words drifted out in a hushed tone. As if they were trying to protect the young girl, who now hid behind her mother.

He braced himself for the hardest task he would ever have to face.

And in that split second, his breath had returned, and he let out a short exhale when he finally saw that face materialise from his past.

Y/N.

It was you. Saira Uchiyama.

After 6 years, 8 months, and 19 days of navigating through the circular journey of denial, anger, bargaining, and depression, Dabi finally had the chance to reach the beacon of acceptance.

His shoulders slumped, as short breaths hiccuped through the dark caverns of his chest.

He had finally found you.

And he had finally found the end to his coveted quench, which yearned for a solace, only to be found in your longing embrace.

Softly, a bewildered whisper escaped his lips, barely denting the silence around them.

“Doll…?”

Dabi watched as the maturer skin scrunched together, deep lines frowned at him. As the tenderness in your heart had to be locked away inside an untouchable crevice in your body.

“Sweetie, I need you to go upstairs okay”, you ordered sternly.

You pushed your daughter behind you, blocking Dabi’s protesting hands before they touched her.

“Mommy, he’s scaring m-”

“Sana. You need to go upstairs. Lock the door and close your windows.”

Sana.

Her name was a painful reminder of the blank pages he had failed to fill as her father. How could he have written anything?

He didn’t even know what the title was.

“Never fucking come near my family again”.

Those blank pages began to rip.

“You disgusting freak”.

The blank pages had burned to ashes, and Dabi was left outside on the suburban patio of a perfect neighbourhood.

Maybe, if he found a place to wash his face, he could blend in with the garbage.

49 notes · View notes

jomamaofficial · 1 month

Text

I'm back!! Updates & Thanks.

Hello my lovely readers.

I am for the holidays. I'm trying to write a lot for this blog this week so my first request for you guys is to drop a few prompts, or reccomendations that you want me to write, in my Ask Box. These have to be angst, and in the Genshin, MHA, SpyXFamily, or Death Note fandom.

Secondly, for all of my amazing readers who are following the Empty Vessel series, I have good news for you because I have finally finished Part 3!! It just needs to get through one last round of beta reading and then it will be published. I will make sure to tag those who requested to be on the taglist <3.

Thirdly, please take care of your self my lovelies. Just know that your feedback means a lot to me and I absolutely love the amazing community we have created. Also, I just reached 269 followers (ehe) so literally, I love all 269 of you that have given me a chance <33.

With much love,

Sincerely,

RichieTheToe.

7 notes · View notes

jomamaofficial · 3 months

Note

Are you planning on finishing Empty Vessel? I'm just curious, no pressure or anything 💕

Hellooo,

Thank you for this ask. I've been meaning to address this!!

I will be finishing the fic don't worry. Right now, I've been a bit slow at updating it mainly because of I've been extremely busy with exams and such. But during my hoiday next week, I will definetly post the third part <3.

Sincerely,

RichieTheToe <3.

#angst no comfort #my hero academia #mha angst #boku no hero academia #angst #todoroki touya x you #touya todoroki x reader #bnha touya #todoroki touya #dabi x reader #mha dabi #bnha dabi #richiethetoereplies #richiethetoe's updates

4 notes · View notes

jomamaofficial · 3 months

Note

JOMAMA COME BACK WE NEED THAT TODOROKI JEALOUS FIC COME BACK

HELLO I AM BACK. AND I PROMISE, THAT FIC WILL COME OUT, I AM JUST *SWAMPED* WITH WORK RIGHT NOW.

My plan is to get back into the momentum of writing in my holidays next week. Although I can't guarantee I can release many chapter of the the Jealous Todoroki fic, I will try and release the first two.

#my hero academia #angst no comfort #mha angst #boku no hero academia #angst #bnha todoroki #todorki shouto #shoto todoroki #todoroki shouto #shouto todoroki #richiethetoereplies #richiethetoe's updates

3 notes · View notes

jomamaofficial · 3 months

Note

HI I JUST WANTED TO SAY UR FICS ARE AMAZING ❤️❤️ THEY MAKE MY WHOLE DAY JUST SEEING U POST ONE ❤️❤️ SO THANK UU❤️❤️

HELLO, THANK YOU SO MUCH. THE FACT THAT I WAS ABLE TO MAKE YOUR DAY MAKES *MY* WHOLE DAY <33.

Thank you so much for taking the time to read my posts, you have no idea how much it means to me :( <33.

Sincerely,

Your truly, RichieTheToe.

#richiethetoereplies #i love you guys so much

1 note · View note

jomamaofficial · 9 months

Text

SHIGI FORCED MARRIAGE FIC + Arranged Marriage vs. Forced Marriage

OKAY SO I HAVE NO IDEA WHICH ONE OF YOU LOVELY FOLKS REQUESTED THIS (fingers crossed this person sees this post), but I finally got struck by the writer gods and the next fic I publish will be based off of this hehe. I should be finished writing in a day or two, however, publishing depends on how quickly I can find a beta reader, so please, be on the look out for it in the next week or so (I can add you on the tag list if you please :)).

I just wanted to address that I will be taking some creative measures so instead of an arranged marriage (which is fully consensual between two partners), it will be a forced marriage hehe.

As a South Asian writer, I found it really crucial to address the difference between an arranged marriage and a forced marriage because there are so many negative impressions on arranged marriage (one of it being that the couples are forced into marrying each other, which is not the case. If that is the case, it is then called a forced marriage) because people tend to mistake it for the latter.

An arranged marriage consists of meeting each other, in a courting fashion (think Bridgerton) with both families present. If one does not like their match, they are in their full right to reject them and move on to the next. This is an ethical and legal practice.

Forced marriages are illegal in most countries however they still occur due to the vague and paradoxical rules built around it, and its defining characteristic comes from a lack of consent on either person's side.

There is clear coaxing and force used in the way Tomura agrees to the marriage thus making it a forced one. In regards to my Bakguou fanfic, that is also forced because Bakugou was against this marriage. This is why, I will be changing the fic title to be a forced marriage. Note, this will take time because I am working with a very old laptop which slows down on the Tumbler interface (my current one broke down, yay). But please keep this in mind if one of you choose to write a fic about a marriage that is not a 'love-marriage' :).

Sincerely,

Your favourite toe, RichieTheToe.

#forced marriage #shigiraki tomura #tomura shigiraki x reader #tomura shigaraki #tomura shiragaki #shigaraki tomura #angst #boku no hero academia #mha angst #my hero academia #bnha x reader #richiethetoe's updates #tomura forced marriage #tomura x reader forced marriage

14 notes · View notes

jomamaofficial · 10 months

Note

NAHH IM DYING FOR A PART 2 OF “The Chronicles of A Daughter” PLEASE ❤️❤️ UR FICS ARE KEEPING ME ALIVEE 💗💗

HELLO ANON. PLEASE DON'T DIE. I have a few ideas for Part 2 but it will take me some time to write it all out because this plot was a request as compared to something I wanted to write myself. But don't worry, I will write a continuation soon :).

I LOVE HEARING FROM YOU GUYS AHHH, BLESS YOU ALL WHO TAKE THE TIME OUT OF YOUR DAYS TO READ MY WORK AND LEAVE LITTLE ASKS, IT MAKES ME SO SO HAPPY <33.

Sincerely,

Your Loving Toe, RichieTheToe.

#my hero academia #mha angst #angst #boku no hero academia #angst no comfort #richiethetoereplies

5 notes · View notes

jomamaofficial · 10 months

Note

Not sure if u do all Mha characters but could u do an all might angst of him having a daughter he doesn’t pay attention much too?

The Chronicles of A Hero's Daughter (Father!All Might and Daughter!Reader Angst Oneshot)

A/N: Anon, I’m not going to lie, when I first read this request, I was like ehh… idk if I’ll enjoy writing that. And then I actually sit down and write it, and I’m like, WHAT IN THE WORLD, WHY AM I SO INVESTED IN THIS. So anon, you are a genius and you made my day with this request <3. I hope you have as much fun reading this as I had writing it. TW: Mentions of blood. Masterlist Edit: Part 2 Word Count: 3548. Summary: Adopted by All Might at the age of five, Toshinori Y/N was being trained to become the ninth user of One For All. With the quirk Element which gave you the ability to control all four classical elements: Air, Water, Fire, and Earth, you were set for victory in the hero-society. However, after your quirk was stolen, your path led astray, the clear neglect was getting obvious, day by day, as your father found a new student to mentor.

——————————————————————————————————

The phone didn’t even ring for a second and he had already picked it up.

“Y/N, my child, could you get the door? Midoriya-Shounen has come to visit.”

Silently, you obeyed your father as you promptly left your work.

Midoriya Izuku. It was a popular name in the Toshinori household. His name managed to sneak into every dinner conversation, and every evening walk.

And now, he was just outside the door, seconds away from intruding your peace.

You released a breath, fingers on the door handle. Your shoulders dropped down low and you straightened your spine, standing an inch or two taller.

It was finally time to meet him.

So with your best rehearsed smile that still didn’t reach your eyes, and your well rehearsed speech playing continuously in your suffocating mind, you opened the door.

A bouquet of flowers and an earnest grin– this was the first time you met Midoriya Izuku.

A few seconds passed as both of you stood still, your throat running slightly dry as you saw confusion build up in the young man’s face.

“Um”, he took a gulp and stepped back. “I’m looking for the Toshinori household…?”

You blinked at him before clearing your throat.

“Yeah, you’re at th- um, yeah this is- I mean, I am-”

“Midoriya-Shounen!”

A loud and hearty voice greeted the young boy with a warm hug, apron on, spatula in one hand. You winced as you rubbed the shoulder your father swiftly brushed past.

You pressed your lips together as you stood beside the embracing pair, hands behind your back as you hid them further into your sweater.

“Five minutes early as always, my boy! Come on in!”

With an excited nod, the boy stepped inside the house, slipping his shoes off into the side of the genkan before following your father into the living room.

Unspoken words remained discarded in your mouth.

And they led, and you followed.

“You have a lovely house, All Might! I was really afraid I was going to run late. I had a bit of a heart attack when someone else opened the door… I thought I took down the wrong address, my mother told me it would happen but I was so surprised that I didn’t even think to confirm it beforehand or anything and it was so-”

“Midoriya-Shounen, please. Relax,” Toshinori chuckled, resting his hand on the worried boy’s shoulders. “You are here now. Please, sit down.”

Midoriya ran his hand to the back of his hair, sheepishly rubbing it as he took a seat across from you. His cheeks became flushed as his fingers adjusted the neck of his sweater.

Toshinori rushed into the kitchen without another word, grabbing a plate of meticulously placed mochi in one hand, and a tray with two glasses and a pitcher of water in the other.

Midoriya immediately got up as he saw his mentor struggle through the narrow doorway, extending his arms to take the tray from him.

They set the delicacies on the glass table, and without being told, Midoriya placed three coasters that were piled on the side of the table. His nimble hands made quick work of removing the glasses and pitcher from the tray.

“Always a step ahead, my son!” Toshinori commended with a proud grin that stretched across his tired face.

You moved to the side to make space for your father, tensing your legs so you could cramp yourself in the tiny corner of your tiny sofa.

‘My son’.

You watched as your father approached you, a glass of water in hand. Your eyes brightened.

But your fingers barely brushed the cold glass before your father walked past you.

The loud shut of the door shut the sparkle in your gaze and your jaw seized as you observed Midoriya, who moved to the side for your father who sat in the remaining space.

Your hands immediately guarded the sliver of your exposed neck, the pads of your finger rubbing against your collarbone.

Their lengthy conversation bled into a distance, and like a required prop, you just sat in the corner, spacing out onto the clear surface of the table that stood in between, dividing the pride and the disappointment.

Your lips became dry as the shallow inhales and exhales latched onto the chapped skin of your lips.

Water.

You needed water.

But the only glasses in the room glared back at you, half-empty.

“Oh, I’m sorry… Did I take your glass by mistake?”

Midoriya caught on quickly, his eyebrows furrowing apologetically.

You opened your mouth, drawing a breath in until-

“Fret not Midoriya-Shounen, the glass was yours. I must have forgotten to bring the third glass, there wasn’t enough space on the tray, you see.”

Your father had responded once again. And your unspoken words were discarded before they could even be said.

“Y/N, go get yourself a glass, if you please. And on your way, maybe refill the jug too?”

Midoriya stood up with the jug in his hand, “allow me to help you Toshinori-san!”

“Ah nonsense, she can do it herself, my son.”

Placing a hand on his shoulder, your father sat Midoriya back down. “We don’t need to ruin the flow of our conversation, young man! We have much to speak about.”

Midoriya tensed his brows as his gaze lowered. But in the end, with a curt nod, he settled into the comfort of his seat and the jug was placed back on the coaster.

Hours passed. Evening twilight wound into night darkness. The bags under Toshinori’s eyes held greater weight, yet his dark vacant eyes held the reflection of the green-haired man in front of him, gleaming in a halo of pride.

It wasn’t until Toshinori’s lungs gave way to a bloody cough that the pair realised that the jug was empty.

It wasn’t until the pair halted their conversation, glasses in hand, that they realised that the sofa in front of them was empty.

After the last few finishing touches, you stepped back with a breath of relief; your aching hips required some support from your hands, but the corners of your mouth twitched.

An infectious pride was blooming in the depths of your chest, painting a ray of sunshine onto your cloudy face. The apples of your cheeks, full and bare; the crinkle of your eye, unfamiliar but genuine. You held your chin up high with your sleeves rolled to your elbows.

“It looks amazing, Y/N-chan!”

You basked in the sonorous sound of your supervisor, who had just stepped besides you.

“This is revolutionary, Y/N-chan, it truly is… I expected one or two sketch designs, but you… I have no words for how proud I am…”

Your lips turned upwards as you met your supervisor’s eyes, beaming her a wide grin before turning back to your exhibition where before you, set delicately, was the accumulation of two years of hard work.

Five scaled down prototypes of iron suits were set on display– standing tall and noble. Each suit was paired with leaflets in their respective stands, with a bold font printed across the face: ‘The Iron Suit and the Quirkless Hero’.

“I couldn’t afford any mistakes sensei… I just couldn’t. This was my dream. It’s been my dream since I was a child...”

And your inner child couldn’t let it go.

So you grabbed her tiny hand, and pulled her far away from her sorrows, protecting her, nourishing her.

The manifestation of the first quirk was regarded as a mystical phenomena; straight out of a sci-fi movie. But as time passed, quirk manifestations spread into common reality. ‘Professional Heroes’– a profession that would have garnered snickers and laughs a century ago, became the most sought after job globally. As the occurrence of a quirk grew, the government instilled quirk academies to scout the best and strongest quirk. Businesses began funding them when the first few heroes were churned out, and so the race to become the number one hero began from age five for many families.

Like all races, it was a test of strength, endurance, and resilience. It wasn’t for the faint of heart, and only the most courageous could join it.

But there were some who just couldn’t join the race? Not because they didn’t want to, no. But because they didn’t even have the legs to reach the starting line.

Toshinori Y/N was adopted by Toshinori Yagi at the age of five. And already, by such a young age, you were sprinting far far ahead.

Your quirk was Element– the ability to control all four classical elements: Air, Water, Fire, and Earth. Your father watched as he created the most powerful vessel for his ultimate goal: to turn his daughter into the ninth user of One For All.

You had the motivation, you had the strength.

You were thrown head-first into the twisted fate of hero society where nothing could bring greater joy than breaking yourself in the name of progress.

Hero society was a place where the pain of training was the sweetness of improvement, and the scars and fractures were the evidence of determination.

So one fateful day as all good things came to an end, you were walking back home, hair pulled back in two pigtails with a kitty lunchbox in one hand. A bag way too big hung on your ten-year-old shoulders, and your quirk was ripped away, gone forever.

The planes of the neighbourhood harboured pained screams of a disturbed soul that haunted every passing parent for the next two months.

Your legs were torn away in the middle of the race. And all you could do was stare at the passersby who mocked you as you tried to contain your spilling blood in order to survive.

Your smile faded and the storm had returned. Your memories were a recurring nightmare.

And you couldn’t wake up from them.

“Your father will be so, so proud of you, Toshinori-san.”

“Mmm…”

You pressed your lips together, lowering your eyes.

“I know he’ll be proud of you.”

You felt her comforting hand squeeze yours.

“Yes, sensei. He will be.”

Hours went past since your exhibition started. Countless people and countless pats on the back. It was a haze.

“Your call has been forwarded to the automated messaging sys-”

“For god’s sake.”

You cut the phone.

The lines on your forehead deepened as the number of missed calls grew.

Where was he?

Mentally, you replayed this morning’s conversation with your father. You had vividly remembered that you told him three times: “my exhibition is at five, dad. Please don’t be late.”

You had set alarms on his phone with small reminders attached to them: one at 4:00 PM, one at 4:15 PM, and one at 4:30 PM.

Where was he?

Your heart beat a bitter drum as you watched some fathers with roses in one hand whilst the other was pressed against their hips as they gasped for air.

“I couldn’t be late for my angel’s exhibition now could I?”

It was 9:00 PM.

The crowd had died down and you watched as they drained out: proud fathers holding their daughter’s hand, embracing them in unconditional love. Your once eager eyes were tired, exhausted from searching and scanning for the only face you had internally begged for.

Had you not expected it, you would have cried.

Your thumb hovered over your father’s name on your phone, hesitant.

But there was no point. You switched your phone off.

“Hana,” you asked the few friends that were left, “can you help me pack my things please?”

The pitch black darkness dragged the walk back to the nearest bus station. With your hands occupied with bags that contained the remains of your exhibition, periodically, you peered at the dimly-lit empty street behind you.

The street lights flickered sporadically, teasing your lone steps that were getting faster and faster.

The bus ride home was fine. You met a few friends waiting at the stop with their parents. Although when alone on the outer seat, hood still up, your eyes may have lingered too long at the napping daughters resting their head on their smiling fathers’ shoulders.

Your stop approached in forty-five minutes.

It was 10:36 PM when you got off the bus. The usual hustle of your neighbourhood had settled, so it wasn’t too hard to spot a head with green, curly hair leisurely walking towards your bus stop.

“Midoriya-kun?”

The young boy lifted his head from his phone to look around.

You gave him a hesitant wave, receiving a warm smile in return.

“Toshinori-san?” he asked, taking off his earphones.

“Uh, yeah, it’s me.”

You shoved your hands in your pockets.

“Wha- what are you doing here?” you blurted, staring at the ground.

The abrasive nature of your words caused Midoriya to stand straighter. He blinked a few times before answering.

“Oh um, All Might called me over for a chat. He told me you weren’t home so he said it would be a good chance to discuss more… things?”

The young boy ended his sentence with a wavering voice, getting quieter as he saw your body stiffen.

In the moments of your wordless exchange, a warm ache began to develop in the walls of your skull.

Midoriya’s gaze, which was travelling to and fro, fixed upon the bags hanging from your wrists.

“How about you? Um… Where did you come back from?”

Your mind tried to console your heart, hushing the bubbling feelings of resentment towards the boy in front of you.

You let out a sigh, letting your shoulders drop low.

You were tired.

“I came back from an exhibition.”

“Oh really? Were you presenting? Is that what the bags are for?”

Your lips found themselves smiling at Midoriya’s observation.

“Yeah,” you nodded, “they have my exhibition prototypes in them.”

Your ears perked up at the approaching sounds of relaxed footsteps.

“May I see them please?” Midoriya asked.

Finally, you lifted your head to meet his eyes.

You mumbled, passing him the bag with your prototype inside. “Yeah… sure.”

Minutes passed in complete silence. Timid glances found themselves analysing the look on Midoriya’s face, who was carefully reading the contents of your pamphlet, cross-checking it with your prototype. You felt a warm flush on your cheeks as the boy looked up at you, eyes wide and bright.

“You made this? By yourself?”

He was baffled: eyebrows raised, eyes twinkling. You pressed your lips together in attempts to hide your grin as you nodded.

“It took me two years.”

Midoriya carefully placed your prototypes back into their respective boxes, passing the bag back into your hands.

“I didn’t expect this at all- I mean, of course, you’re All Might’s daughter but just, being quirkless and everything? I just-” his expressive face comforted yours.

“You’re so cool, Toshinori-san. You’re so cool!”

The swells of your cheeks began hurting as you stared at Midoriya, your waterline becoming annoyingly emotional.

“Thank you, Midoriya-kun…”

“Please,” he chimed, “call me Izuku.”

You let out a chuckle just this once, sneaking a swipe to wipe the corner of your eyes.

“In that case, please call me Y/N.”

Izuku’s wide grin ignited a mellow flame in your disappointed heart. You cursed your heart for every ill thought that crossed your mind about the boy that stood in front of you.

“I am honoured to meet a brilliant mind like yours Y/N-san… The amount of lives this can save… The amount of innocent lives this can protect from harassment… You’re amazing Y/N-san,” he repeated, bowing down.

You blushed, your hands immediately reaching out towards the young boy to lift him up, “oh, Izuku-kun, please don’t bow…”

“My younger self thanks you Y/N-kun…” he whispered.

There was a small crack in his soft voice.

Your eyebrows twitched and the cold air travelled through the small opening in your mouth.

“What do you mean, ‘younger self’...?”

Midoriya’s big green eyes were frosted on the surface. He straightened his back, staring off into the distance.

“I’m sure your father told you, Y/N-san”, he cleared his throat.

“I was born quirkless.”

Your fingers felt cold.

“Quirkless…?”

“Yes. I was born quirkless. The doctors didn’t know what caused it. My parents had a quirk. My mother can float small objects towards her. And my father has a powerful quirk: fire breathing.”

His voice began quivering and the young boy had to take a pause.

“All I wanted as a young child was to become All Might. I still do, to be honest. I had a little All Might onesie. And my mother bought me all the All Might action figures. I would play hero with her. She used to act like a citizen in distress and for that short amount of time, I was her hero. And that led to me wanting to become everyone’s hero.”

His tears reflected the moonlight waning in the sombre sky.

“I was five years old when I was told my dreams were basically worthless. That I should give up… and become a police officer.”

You bit the inside of your cheeks, hiding your hands inside your pockets.

“I didn’t eat for three days. I couldn’t stomach anything, so at some point, I-I guess I ended up fainting, and my mom had to rush me into the ER.”

Two bodies stood underneath the cold, clinical street light, incredibly still.

But the loud noises pinched you to disturb the silence.

You had to know.

“But… what about your quirk now?”

The door creaked open into a fully-lit living room. Toshinori was sitting in front of the television, phone in hand, swiping through his texts.

Trays and glasses– two glasses exactly– were lazing on the table with cubes of melting ice piled up on the bottom. The cushions were moved to the side, and the couch covers relaxed comfortably with deep wrinkles.

An unnoticed figure slipped inside the house and Toshinori felt two eyes settle onto him.

“Y/N, when did you come back?”

Nothing.

“My child,” he stood up, reaching towards your shoulder.

You shrugged his hand off as soon as it touched you, lost in the voices consuming your mind.

“Y/N! What is the meaning of this?”

“It’s eleven.”

“What do you-”

“It’s eleven!”

Your father’s body tensed as he stepped back, his brows knitted in pain and confusion.

Your throat, strained and dry, struggled to find words as it battled against the bitter rise of bile.

Your jaw trembled as your eyes burnt with unshed tears in the now blurring room. The cries of betrayal felt so weak. What should have been anger– a hellflame spreading throughout your house, came out a sniffle and singular tear. Anger that should have engulfed the sounds in the room and overpowered the drone of the television and the tick of the passing time was nothing but suppressed by the overbearing eyes that scrunched in concern.

“What do I have to do to get you to pay attention to me, dad? What do I have to do…” you weeped, your hands consoling your own body because no one else present could.

The cries of betrayal felt so weak because it was someone else’s incompetency, someone else’s fault that pained your wailing heart. And the cries of a wailing heart begging to be loved was a silent sound that overpowered all sense of self.

“What does he have that I don’t, dad? What did he do that I failed to do?”

You broke down into his arms. You found refuge despite his false embrace; it repulsed you because you knew it was going to be short-lived.

It was a fake.

“Why did I have to find out that my father was quirkless from someone else’s mouth?”

You felt his chest fall as your father squeezed you tighter.

“Why didn’t you tell me, dad?” you whispered.

“I’m sorry Y/N, I’m so sorry…”

“Am I not worthy enough… Was I not worthy enough to find out?”

Your ears preened, begging for reassurance, begging to hear: ‘that’s not true my child’.

But it never came.

“I’m sorry for not being strong enough, dad… I’m sorry for letting him steal my quirk, dad.”

You tore away from his chest, sniffling away your tears for the last time.

“But why didn’t you tell me that One For All could work with quirkless too?”

Toshinori crossed his hands in front of him as he averted his gaze from yours.

“Why can’t you talk to me? Was I not good enough! Am I so weak without my quirk? That you blindly gave your power away to a boy you met a day ago! Dad, look at me!” you screamed, far too lost to control yourself. “Why couldn’t you give it to me, your own goddamn daughter? What did I not do dad, what did I not do!”

Why did All Might extend his hand to save Midoriya, when his daughter gave up her whole life to burn for his dreams?

His silence spoke a thousand words, so it was about time you spoke your final words.

“You’re a great hero, dad. But that’s all you’ll ever be… you’ve been a great hero but you’ll never be a great dad.”

280 notes · View notes

jomamaofficial · 10 months

Note

SURE! ONSHOTS FOR THE ARRANGE MARRIAGE FIC WOULD BE ALRIGHT! I KNOW YOULL WRITE SOMETHING AMAZING SO I WONT MIND ❤️❤️

My genuine reaction to this:

WHY ARE ALL OF YOU GUYS SO KIND IT’S MAKING ME CRY.

I’m waiting to get one of my fics betaread rn (hehe), as soon as I post that, I’ll work on your request ASAP.

Should I tag you (in that case may I have your user 😩😩)?

Sincerely, RichieTheToe.

#richiethetoereplies #angst #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #mha angst #angst no comfort #tomura shigiraki x reader

4 notes · View notes

jomamaofficial · 10 months

Note

AIZAWA OR SHIGARAKI ARRANGE MARRIAGE FIC 🤲🤲

OKAY I WAS LOW-KEY THINKING OF LAYING OFF THE ARRANGED MARRIAGE FICS FOR A WHILE BECAUSE I’M WRITING A TODOROKI ARRANGED MARRIAGE FIC RIGHT NOW.

BUTTT. YOUR ASK GOT ME THINKING ANON; what about a one-shot >:)?

I’ll head to my little writer’s corner and plan a nice little one-shot out. Maybe, depending on the ideas, I can make it a mini-fic, 3-4 parts??

Let me know what you think dear anon.

Sincerely,

Your beloved Toe, RichieTheToe.

#richiethetoereplies #angst #boku no hero academia #mha angst #my hero academia #angst no comfort #bnha x reader

5 notes · View notes

jomamaofficial · 10 months

Text

An Empty Vessel pt.2 (Dabi x Fem!Reader Dark Angst)

A/N: Happy holidays my lovely toes. I am so sorry for this delay, my laptop broke down 😃😃. I urge you all to read the TWs and CWs because I have delved into dark topics. As always, my Ask Box is open for any requests or just a conversation. I absolutely adore all of you, and I want to take this time to thank you guys for your support. Seeing your comments and messages motivates me to write :) <3. Please remember to take care of yourselves, and enjoy. As always, I would love to see your thoughts in the comments :). TW: Vague sexual harassment, substance abuse (weed, alcohol, smoking), death and bleeding. CW: SPOILER: Season 6, Dabi’s backstory, PFL, AFO and Shigiraki plot, swearing, vague mentions of intimate acts. Taglist: @marlenemckinnonsleftfoot @sukunasleftkneecap @istoleyourmanho3 @witherfag Masterlist Edit: Part 3 😼😼 Word Count: 2919. Summary: In the stories Rei used to read him, heroes always won. Reality wasn’t a story though. The villains won the Meta Liberation War after 6 years of fighting. With the death of Pro Hero Endeavour, and the reign of All For One, Dabi could finally leave his past as Touya Todoroki. He no longer had family. But what about the past that haunted him to this day. A family that belonged to Dabi, not Touya? One that escaped unborn?

——————————————————————————————————

Musutafu, Japan– it made international headlines.

The Paranormal Liberation Force finally did it.

The nation observed a minute of silence for the fall of Pro Hero Endeavour.

Musutafu was now all for one. And the entire nation would soon suffer the same fate.

Dabi stretched his neck to the left, stretching his right shoulder as he fought the growing tingles in his body. Chills ran up and down his spine as his eyes followed the tears of rain flooding the dimly-lit road.

He loved how empty this street was: no cars, no news reporters. There were no signs of nagging parents and their brat children, and there were no heroes patrolling the streets, strutting up and down like they owned the place.

It was just him and the soft sound of the rain which seeped into his socks, staining them with the remains of what was now All For One’s headquarter city.

Dabi wished to hear the familiar croak of Tomura’s voice: the back and forth banter, the late-night clicks of the video game console. Back when it was just them, the League of Villains. Tomura, Kurogiri, Toga, Twice, and him. Back when he didn’t ruin everything.

Dabi never told anyone, but there was a tiny part of his soul that withered away when he was near All For One.

Dabi felt small. He was 5’9; he never felt small.

But that thing would always tower over him. His slimy touch was forcefully ingrained into Dabi’s skin— that thing touched him like he owned Dabi.

And Dabi hated the way his mind memorised the way All For One used his crooked fingers to tilt Dabi’s head up to inspect him.

“Oh he’s a little doll isn’t he, Tomura? Where do you find these pretty boys?”

He hated the way All For One laughed after; it was a broken wheeze that rang murder in Dabi’s mind.

He watched as All For One forced Tomura to laugh with him, and Tomura’s apologetic eyes wavered when he looked back at Dabi.

He hated Tomura for laughing that day.

But he hated that laugh much more; the laugh that tainted the fresh air they stood in.

Now, Musutafu’s entire air was tainted by that laugh.

Now… Musutafu belonged to All For One. And Dabi could only hear that broken wheeze.

It would follow him everywhere.

So despite the rain’s destructive nature, Dabi allowed the weeping drops of the sky to fill the emptiness inside of him. The cool drops were better than the air.

Dabi was just an empty vessel. Nowhere to go, no one to go back to.

The Meta Liberation War quenched everyone’s thirst for blood. The dirt was saturated with the blood of heroes and villains alike.

He found it amusing, he really did as he bore his vacant eyes into the rusting ground. Dabi watched as everyone’s blood mixed together under his foot.

He raised his eyebrows, and chuckled.

‘All it took was death for them to stick together’.

Dabi travelled further away from the battle ground, quite deliberate about the steps he took. He counted underneath a shallow breath.

“Fifty-five, fifty-six, fifty-seven,” until he reached the sixty-second step.

His heel pressed against the seeping soil surging scarlet.

And the world was still.

So still and silent that the gentle wind snuck up on the thin man, and he let out a broken gasp as his knees gave out.

The ringing in his ear struck a bitter note. His chest heaved up and down, up and down, and his eyes were blankly fixed on the ground beneath him. Thick, warm blood oozed through the thin cloth that covered his knees.

Enji Todoroki finally died. And Touya Todoroki was responsible for it.

Touya Todoroki, after 7 years of persistent efforts, was officially fatherless.

Finally, it dawned upon him: after 30 long years, Touya Todoroki couldn’t chase him anymore. He could finally find solace in Dabi.

And Dabi was alone. He had no family.

As the joint finally caught up to him, after four or five rookie puffs, the raven man started asking himself what he was doing here.

Surrounded by a group of homeless men who he caught rummaging in the dumpster, they were huddled away into the darkness of a dimly lit alleyway. It smelled like shit, offending his heightened state of smell. Flies picked on the waste scattered below them, their constant buzz creating a monotonous flow.

Dabi peeled his lips open as he felt each individual cell respire on his skin. His heart felt like it was growing inside of him, puncturing his dry lungs, getting louder and faster with each beat.

As a young boy, he saw Enji drink every evening for two years. Dabi used to sneak a sip when he was alone. Dabi was often alone.

He caught Enji with a lit cigarette in his fingers. Dabi stole one and showed it to his friends. Dabi coughed a lot that day.

Enji never touched drugs. He was against it.

Dabi never took drugs; the thought of it never passed him.

“How does it feel kid?”

Dabi’s consciousness was dragged back to reality, the bleak colours of his surroundings painting a vibrant picture.

“I can feel my skin breathing,” he responded, his lower jaw hanging open as he struggled to keep his neck straight.

Howls of laughter echoed in the distance, but the scarred man took no notice.

The joint was held to his lips, and Dabi took another puff.

Dabi wanted to individually itch the surface of his eyes with his nails. It was miserable.

But the ripple of the individual muscles in his cheeks felt so warm and happy when he smiled. That was less miserable.

So he kept on smiling, jaw still gaping. His staples pulled against his grafts, but the molecular traces of marijuana in his bloodstream shielded him from the pain.

Dabi was taken aback– gravity was working exponentially harder against him. A man touched the corner of his lips, the thick and coarse pad of his thumb sending him back, seven years ago.

Oh he’s a little doll isn’t he, Tomura?

“Boy”, the man slurred, “you’re bleeding.”

He shoved his bloodied thumb in Dabi’s face.

Dabi struggled to focus his gaze on the thumb in front of him, switching between double and triple vision.

“Can’t feel it,” he mumbled, his reactions delayed as he scooted away from the stranger.

“Everything’s breathing except these.”

Dabi was mesmerised by the feeling of his grafts against the pads of his fingers. It restored the faint twinkle in his hollow eyes.

“Why are you all fucked up everywhere, boy?”

It took a few moments to register, but Dabi did respond.

“Useless mom, dick dad.”

A unison of delayed ahhhs followed, and Dabi began to feel a knocking pressure trapped in the inner corners of his wide eyes.

“I was never his first choice,” Dabi chuckled. He wasn’t sure if they could hear him. They sure as hell couldn’t understand him, but he was fine with that.

“I was his first born son. No fuckin’ use. Dropped me like I was a waste of time and money.”

The offensive smell of the blunt dug him further away from reality. Dabi was content with his own company.

It would always be just him, forever and always. Because after everyone leaves, you’re left with yourself– your only support.

The more he delved into his loneliness, the louder he heard his skin breathe, it was deafening. And so the silence on his graft became even louder.

For a man who was considered dead all his life, Dabi wasn’t used to his living body. Senses upon senses, he was bombarded with the constant reminder that he was still alive. Even his dead, unresponsive skin felt alive. Because it was the absence of feeling that felt different.

Many people would describe euphoria as extreme feelings of bliss and joy. It was this boxed definition that led Dabi to believe that he could never feel euphoria. But in this moment, whilst Dabi sunk deeper into his conscience– his doubts finally quiet, time finally stopped.

And his body finally let go.

The familiar bud of the joint met his mouth again, and he inhaled the noxious fumes until he smoked his fears away into the midst of the neverending clouds in the night sky. The full moon gleamed down on his pale skin, bathing his grafts in a lunar embrace.

Unlike the sun, which beat its scorching rays on his sensitive skin, the moon shyly kissed it, leaving trails of beautiful markings that soothed his aches.

Dabi’s heart was working overtime. Blood rushed to his scalp, and his body completely shut down. There was one name that his heart called for.

A name that belonged to the past. The moon shyly casted a glow on that face too, but it averted its lunar eyes when Dabi defiled his past, leaving trails of burns that caused her aches.

He was wrong.

Touya Todoroki, after 7 years of persistent efforts, had no family.

But Dabi?

Dabi had a family.

Dabi woke up to blue skies and a gentle sun peeking behind the stained curtains. His body was sprawled on the tiny bed, his limbs spilling out the sides, here and there. He blindly groped for his phone in the midst of thin sheets, switching it on to check the time.

09:23 AM.

He groaned and threw a dark shirt on top of his eyes, blocking the obnoxious sun as he squirmed to find his sleep.

Moments passed and all he could focus on was the neverending tick of the clock in the corridor.

“Fuck it.”

Dabi slipped on some shirt, and put on some shoes, and slammed the door when he left.

09:36 AM.

No wonder he could hear the tick, the corridor was ghost-quiet.

Routinely, Dabi heaved himself over to the bar, scanning the counter for a quick shot.

09:41 AM.

Toga walked inside the lair, her hands hidden inside the cuffs of her cardigan. Dabi nodded at her as he let out a yawn.

“Everyone die or summin’?”

Toga stared at him, her eyes glazed.

Dabi immediately straightened up.

“Wait, did they actua-”

“She’s gone.”

09:49 AM.

Dabi’s jaw tensed up, gripping the shot glass tighter.

“Who’s gon-”

His body was jolted back into the counter, the loud glass shrieking as it fell from his hands.

“Don’t you dare Dabi. Don’t you fucking dare.”

Her eyes were red. Her fist was clenched around the loose cloth that hung on him.

Dabi averted his eyes from Toga, releasing a shallow breath.

Toga’s chest hiccuped underneath her cardigan, and she hid her face into his chest, staining it with stale tears.

“She’s gone,” she repeated, a broken record.

Dabi clasped his arms around her, his hands patting her head.

09:59 AM.

“She left.”

Dabi reached for the flask hidden in his inner pockets. Bony fingers struggled to open it, fine tremors running through his bones.

‘Twenty-one, twenty, nineteen, eighteen…’

Door number eighteen. A few strides away. But the growing feeling of heaviness in Dabi’s feet warned him: it was going to be a marathon.

Countless strangers pointed at the lone man in a tattered, thick jacket. Dabi grasped at the wire fence that separated the long stretches of the park and pavement, muttering something underneath his breath.

The sight of free cars strolling past him caught him off guard every single time. He had no sense of time, no sense of direction.

He was far, far away from Musutafu.

Here, the air felt fresher.

It wouldn’t be long before it was infested either.

But he had to owe All For One some credit.

His reign of terror gave the PLF members a huge leverage when it came to accessing government files.

Dabi flipped through piles of kojin bangō, particularly scanning through documents of 27 year-old mothers, registered births and quirk-hybrids, and a certain family name.

He found everyone’s name, everyone’s identity; no one was safe.

Yet the name his eyes yearned for was nowhere in sight.

Countless days and nights were spent silently begging for a lead. On day 18, Dabi finally left the building, clutching onto a piece of paper close to his heart.

Saira Uchiyama.

Names didn’t match, but it was the only name that he could trace her back to.

Dabi took the final steps up the road, feeling lighter than he had in days.

It was on his right. There was but a sliver of road that separated Dabi and door number eighteen.

His fingers started picking at the ripping cuticles on his nail bed, and the grown man started to track his breaths.

He took a step.

A car honked at him.

“Watch where you’re going!”

Dabi didn’t draw back.

He took another step, and another, and another. One more, maybe two.

He could feel the gravel underneath his boots. Dabi lifted his broken face and a perfect house stared down at him. Pristine brick walls stood proud; the bright toned paint complimented the thriving flora in the yard. It fit in so well with the lines of houses, strong and shielded.

This was someone’s home. Bonsai trees armed the right side of the yard, some trimmed, others growing wild.

There were two floors and a garage; more than enough for a perfect family.

Dabi was stopped by the fence gates that guarded the perimeters. He struggled to get past.

Encrusted in metal, his eyes laid upon the name beside the door.

Engraved in gold letters, it read Uchiyama.

He was a step away from Saira Uchiyama’s front door.

Dabi’s hand reached towards the door handle, but he stopped when he felt the unwelcoming chill of it.

He eyed the doorbell instead. He fisted his hand that was itching to press it.

The drowning noises of children’s laughter bled through his skull from the park that was behind him. The drones of parents buying ice cream, and husbands holding their wives’ hands. This was the type of neighbourhood he was in.

And someone told him. Since when did Dabi develop the need to preserve this?

He was a lone man, half dead. He was disgusting. He couldn’t find her name. Now he was outside some poor woman’s house. Saira Uchiyama. How would she feel seeing a decaying man waiting outside her front door? How would her husband feel if some uninvited scarred freak asked to meet his wife, hands empty?

He felt a thick substance roll past his cheek and drip onto the clean welcome mat.

Dabi pushed his raven locks out of his eyes, biting onto his knuckles as he struggled to maintain a steady breath

His nails moved to pick at the staples underneath his eyes.

He couldn’t do this.

‘I can’t fucking do this.’

Through his bloodied waterline, he looked at the doorbell one more time before turning around.

He couldn’t fucking do this. Dabi didn’t belong here.

He tried to move forwards but his legs were shackled to the pebbly footpath. His rhythmic heart couldn’t let go. His twisted mind forced him to go.

His desperate eyes latched onto the bed of perfect flowers on his right.

Like an open flame, the flowers stole all his attention. Dabi stilled.

Their indigo petals mirrored the deep colour of his dead skin. He was entranced by the bold opening, the beautiful colour bleeding out and reflecting the glimmering hope that built up in his cerulean eyes.

“What’s your favourite flower Dabi?” Toga asked as she played with her blunt knife, running her thumb across the blade.

“Typ’a fucking qustion’s that?”

“God Dabi, don’t you know how to have a civilised conversation with someone. I’m just trying to get to know you better!”

“And asking my favourite flower’s gonna do that?”

“It’s called small talk, Dabi.”

He scoffed, pushing past the young girl to rummage through the cabinets.

From the corner of his eyes, he picked up on her amber eyes intently pressing him for an answer.

“For fucks sake. Fine. I’ll do your little small talk”, he gave in, evoking a small squeal from the blonde.

Dabi considered her question for a minute, pressing his tongue against his cheeks.

“I saw these flowers once,” he gulped. “They were blue, kinda like flames. My flames. I saw ‘em in one’a those gated areas. I guess they were pretty nice.”

Toga pursed her lips and tilted her head to the side as she tried to paint a picture in her head.

“Do you know what they’re called?”

“The fuck would I know? Probably one of those fancy rich flowers grown by fancy rich people,”, he shrugged.

“I’ll ask the newbie, she’ll know what they are.”

“Have fun talkin’ to lil’ miss know-it-all,” he scoffed, happy as Toga skipped away, leaving him alone. Finally.

A week later, Dabi found out what they were called as he was sharing a cigarette on the roof.

“By the way, they’re called Rindou flowers.”

Dabi quirked up an eyebrow, his lips curled in a sneer.

“Those flowers you like, they’re called Rindou.”

Dabi’s ears perked up at the small giggle that followed.

“I guess I could say being ‘miss know-it-all’ isn’t the worst thing, huh?”

Dabi’s chest heaved as he turned around, his pace fast as his hands inched closer to the doorbell.

Ring.

The wind stilled.

He could hear footsteps run down the stairs.

Click.

The handle moved.

The door creaked open.

It was 09:59 AM.

——————————————————————————————————

Keep a look out for Part 3, my angst-loving toes. If you would like me to add you to the taglist, please comment or message me :).

204 notes · View notes

jomamaofficial · 10 months

Note

Hiiii i just wanted to ask u about the todoroki x reader fic that u we’re gonna write is it gonna be released?? i really hope u do because i have nothing better to do with my life and i would live a good jealousy trope fic 🤧🤧☝️

I AM SO SORRY FOR THIS LATE REPLY.

I was actually in my exams season and I just got off school a week ago :)).

I'm so happy to know that you guys find interest in my stories OML. PLEASE ALWAYS SEND MY MESSAGES I LOVE TALKING TO YOU GUYS.

I will be working on my story and publishing it from July-August.

In the middle, I will be posting some short stories too but I've set a goal to write a full on fanfiction this holiday so please keep an eye out for that :).

Sincerely,

Your favourite toe, RichieTheToe.

#richiethetoereplies

3 notes · View notes

jomamaofficial · 1 year

Note

i read your post about the todoroki quirk marriage fanfic and im super excited! i have a few suggestions that im hoping maybe you might like??

for starters, maybe reader could be like the younger sibling of Momo so reader always feels like kind of lesser than Momo because Momo is the elder of the two so reader just always feels like Momo has been better. It also doesnt help that (your choice if u want to or not) Todoroki and Momo had small feelings for each other when they were at UA.

Ofc our boy Todoroki still isn’t the best at feelings so hes always just very straight up with what he says so maybe for example he literally tells reader they need to be/do better so they can be more successful like their older soster Momo which causes reader’s insecurities to worsen. Like maybe reader has had nightmares (or js bad thoughts) about Todoroki cheating on them with Momo.

maybe reader has seen the way Todoroki and Momo interact and they can just tell thats not the way in laws should be looking at each other. I mean yeah they’re not looking at each other like they’re in love but it definitely looks like they had feelings for each other so this only caused readers self esteem to drop even more than it had before. reader has seen the way Todoroki gives Momo small glances and wonders if they could mean that Todoroki would rather be with Momo instead of reader (this is up to you if todoroki does want to be with momo or not. but if he doesnt then reader is just hella insecure)

ALSO!! maybe the first choice for the marriage was Momo but for some reason she had to reject so they asked reader instead. This would obviously mean that (at least some) of the Todoroki’s preferred Momo over the reader and would rather have Momo as Todoroki’s wife/partner instead of name.

These are all really bad and I don’t expect you to use any of them but it’ll just be here if you need any inspiration! Anyway im super hyped for this and i cant wait! Keep up the good writing <33

PLEASE THE WAY I ABSOLUTELY ADORE WHEN I GET A MESSAGE IN THE ASK BOX. I AM SUCH A CHILD.

And omds, anon, my partner and I already brainstormed 2 out of 4 of these ideas, but you have given me so many more.

I don't want to give away the plot yet hehe, but please do know that I will be incorporating these. My mind is just spinning in thoughts hehe.

Also, thank you so much for reading my work and giving it a chance, it warms my heart when you all communicate to me about anything, and it's like AHHHH.

I hope you have a great day anon, thank you for giving me these wonderful ideas.

Sincerely,

Your Only Toe, RichieTheToe.

#richiethetoereplies #richiethetoeasks #todoroki x y/n #bnha shouto todoroki #bnha todoroki #todoroki shouto #shoto #shoto todoroki #my hero acedamia

5 notes · View notes

jomamaofficial · 1 year

Text

I think the heavens just blessed me with this.

kirishima takes the sacred relationship between a boyfriend and his s/o’s stuffed animals very seriously. he learns all their names and the specific places on your bed/in your room where they sit, always careful to put them back in their designated spots if he ever moves them. and if he has to take them off your bed, he delicately plops them onto the floor and out of the way, making sure they don’t get stepped on or knocked over.

sometimes he even talks to them or about them with you as if they’re real, making up elaborate stories to add to their lore. “miss walrus doesn’t sit next to pajama butt because he cheated on her with hello kitty.” it’s elaborate and it’s silly, and you can’t help but act scandalized by each new layer of drama he comes up with.

on some evenings, once you’ve made your way home after work or running errands, you pad down the hall to your bedroom and find him asleep amongst the plushies, your favorite (or the most sentimental of the bunch), clutched in his muscular arms. it looks so tiny in his hold, and he looks so peaceful amongst your little collection, that you can’t help but push his hair back and kiss his forehead.

and imagine him brimming with pride when, after he’s made a name for himself in the world of the pros, kirishima finds a little red riot plushie snuggled up in your little collection — right next to your childhood teddy bear.

#bnha eijiro kirishima #mha kirishima #kirishima headcanon #bnha kirishima #richiethetoe'slastbraincell

2K notes · View notes

jomamaofficial · 1 year

Note

UR TODOROKI FIC IDEA SEEMS SOO GOOD OMG PLEEEEEEEEEES AND WILL IT HAVE A HAPPY ENDING OR WILL I DIE 😍

HEHE, HELLO ANON.

PLEASE I LOVE IT WHEN I GET ASKS 😩💪.

HEHE. I MEAN. UM. I LOVE MAKE Y'ALLS CRY. BUT, I MIGHT TRY A DIFFERENT FORMAT WITH THIS ANGST, BUT... HEHE. I ALSO LOVE MAKING YOU GUYS CRY.

Sincerely,

Your Favourite Toe, RichieTheToe.

#richiethetoeasks #richiethetoereplies #todoroki x y/n #todoroki fanfic #angst #angst no comfort

1 note · View note

jomamaofficial · 1 year

Text

Death After Noon (Kaeya x GN!Reader Dark Angst Oneshot)

A/N: Day 3 of the holiday writing streak hehe. Hello my lovely toes, I am back with another angst fic. But this time, I’ve tried a new format out hehe: reverse comfort → angst no comfort </3. Also, if you didn’t see my last post, I AM WORKING ON A QUIRK MARRIAGE MULTIPLE CHAPTER FANFICTION WITH OUR GOLD MINE OF ANGST, SHOUTO TODOROKI. If you want some more information, filter through the richiethetoe’s updates tag :). As always, my Ask Box is open for any requests or just a conversation. I would love to give back to our little community here. Please remember to take care of yourselves, and enjoy. As always, I would love to see your thoughts about the new format I experimented with hehe. CW's: Intimate acts (kissing, making out, SFW touching), Alcoholism. Masterlist Word Count: 1505. Summary: Kaeya Alberich, Cavalry Captain of the Knights of Favonius, the infamous heart breaker of Mondstadt. And your sole reason for pure and utter joy. Sharing moments he never shared with anyone but you, it makes you wonder how someone could say that they love you so much but then just decide that they don’t want anything to do with you anymore.

——————————————————————————————————

His smile was infectious. A simple chuckle– warm and deep.

It lifted all the burdens in your life.

It was cheesy. Cliché even. But you couldn’t help smiling at every shared moment with him.

The chaste, knowing glances– his eyes always finding yours in a crowded room. The subtle closeness– his fingers brushing past yours.

The tall, and dark, and handsome man became your Prince Charming in your Shakespearan tragedy. His smile could tug the heartstrings of the Holy Lyre, enticing Barbatos himself to descend down to Teyvat, mistaking it for the heavens above; his hair reflected the celestial twilight: a vast ocean for your fingers to tread through as he rest his beautiful face on your lap, his lunar eyes staring into the void of your heart, pushing and pulling until it soared in tides.

Kaeya Alberich was the rich poetry scribed in gold, filling the pages of your empty book in lavish ink– envied by many, obtained by one.

Late nights in the Angel’s Share were spent: skin against skin, his fingers sneaking over yours. Intertwined in a beautiful mess, with heated cheeks, and cool, deep tingles, which ran through your spine.

The two of you were Diluc’s worst nightmare. The older brother had his reservations towards both of your… public approaches to intimacy. But the brother held sympathy in his eyes; his stoic face would always fog up in questions when he saw your longing one.

Diluc was weary of his younger brother.

He sent sharp glares and hushed warnings to both of you. Yet instead of listening to him, Kaeya grabbed your hand and ran into the awaiting darkness. You stumbled as you traversed along the winding allies of Mondstadt, his greedy, impatient hands picking at the buttons on your shirt, guiding your bodies into an empty Inn.

Yet when he was finally in the solitude of your comfort, concealed from the prying eyes, his deep desire evaporated, in its place left deep adoration.

You basked in the rays of filtered silence, his hands soothing your waist and holding you tight against his flushed body. He nestled his head, heavy with thoughts, on your chest, tracing absent shapes on your skin whilst his touch got softer and softer the more you stroked his hair.

“What I wouldn’t do. To stay like this forever”, he spoke, voice so soft and incoherent, you almost mistook him for another.

“Going home was snatched from my fate, my angel. It was never an option”.

He pushed his head against the increasing gravity, his eyes heavy. He glued your gaze to his, and you peered at your reflection wavering in his crashing waves– his irises, cloudy and grey.

“So why does your embrace feel like home to me?” he asked, leaning forward ever so slightly, his breath uneven as he lingered at your lips before lifting his head, his misty blue eyes trapped behind his lashes.

You were just an inch apart from his lips, and you could smell an assault of booze and liquor. Yet this time, you didn’t want to get drunk off of it.

You wanted to savour it.

Your hand seeped warmth through his cold cheek, his face glowing, a gentle radiance.

So fragile, you shivered as you cradled him in your hand, jumping head first into the abyss of his eyes, trying to decipher the harbouring storm that formed underneath.

He seeked permission, his lips drawing closer.

And how could you refuse him, when he was sprawled in your lap, so exposed? So vulnerable?

“I love you so much, Kaeya”, you whispered, only for him to hear.

You were so inviting, so kind.

His confident demeanour shrivelled; he didn’t know how to act when you patiently waited for his lips to close the gap.

So he cautiously pressed a peck to your lips.

His sweet hesitance filled you with travelling butterflies that spread their wings, fluttering colour to your face, and comfort through your core.

And for the first time, Kaeya felt as though his guard was melting. The heavy armour finally peeled away.

Such a simple moment, but for him it was so unfamiliar.

His lips had touched many. But they were sloppy, sticky, and seductive.

But he had never kissed someone.

With love, tenderness, and care.

You were his first.

His first kiss.

Your thumb grazed past his cheek, your feather touches travelling to his jaw, shakily cupping it.

“Is this okay?”

“Yes…”

And this time you closed the gap. Your hands left his face and rubbed his back.

You felt as though he would shatter in your hold, like a shard of glass. Your breathing matched with the slow pace of his, as one of your hands travelled to his scalp, tenderly scratching it. Kaeya leaned into the touch, sighing as he pulled away from your lips, his eyes closed. Your fingers removed his worries, one by one, plucking at every strand and blowing them far, far away from him.

You were the reason his head was lighter.

You deserved so much more.

“You deserve so much better than me…” he babbled, only to be silenced by another kiss.

He pulled away to babble again.

“If you knew the real me, you would never come back”.

You pulled him in again. Your taste was sugar for his bitter words.

“Never let me go”, he pleaded.

And you detached your hands from his back and head to extend your pinky forward.

“Never”, you promised, curling your pinky around his. Such childish antics. Such sinless memories.

“I love you, Y/N”.

With a dry throat and a splitting headache, Kaeya woke up to the ray of sunlight that peeked through the blinds. His eyes blinked the fatigue away, his hand shielding them from the piercing radiance.

He examined the room he spent the night in. Unfamiliar as always.

“I’ve gotta’ stop drinking”, he muttered.

Kaeya let out a yawn, before leaning his hand on the side of the bed, fingers reaching for a shirt.

“How high is this thing?” he mumbled, leaning further down until they hit the wooden floor.

Brows knit in frustration, he craned his head on the side, scanning the empty floor. Apart from the legs of a chair, there was nothing.

Eyes squinting, he peered beyond the foot of the bed.

Nothing.

Just the chair standing solitude in front of the uncovered windows.

He couldn’t remember what he wore the day before either.

Fuck.

The sudden movements caught up to the throbbing ache drumming in his head. With a wince, he settled against the brick walls, closing his eyes to alleviate the pressure in his temple.

The absence of his rapid movements cast pure silence in the room. And the early morning was kind enough to hold the burden of his thoughts temporarily; it cast pure silence in his mind. So when a soft rustle tainted the abyssal stillness, he flinched, the hair on his arms erect and alert.

It was coming from beside him. On his left. Underneath a mast of thick, white linen.

With a few strands of hair poking from the top, he shifted his focus onto the constant rise and fall. He let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

The air was still around him.

Kaeya stared at the sleeping figure; his lips were pressed together, his fingers tense as they clutched his matching duvet.

Thoughts were crossing his mind again. The silence, destroyed.

His hands reached towards the figure, reluctant. hesitant.

Kaeya exhaled, breathing shallow.

Using his thumb and index finger, he grabbed onto a crisp cover with the tips, drawing them back, inch by inch.

His heart beat faster as he slowly unveiled the duvet, Every piece of revealed skin matching together as a puzzle until he reached the chin.

Beside him lay delicate features, so innocent, lounging comfortably beside him. The light of dawn diffused a rosy hue on your cheeks. His glazed eyes began to thaw along with his hands.

His smiling eyes trailed down the curve of your neck that disappeared into a silk collar, hidden.

But then his smile dropped: eyes scrunched and lips parted.

A collar.

And suddenly, he narrowed on the reflection behind you: his black shirt hanging off of his chest, with maybe one or two buttons open. His hair, tame. His skin, clear: empty of any bites or bruises.

His gaze focused on the sliver of your exposed skin.

Clear: empty of any bites or bruises.

The forgotten headache was back, louder than before, seeking his attention as his vision disfigured. His chest tightened, his thoughts flooding the memories from last night.

What did he say to you.

A lonely flask sat on the bedside table. An overwhelming absence.

What a fool you truly were.

A fool because you dove head first, even though you knew this would happen.

How could someone say that they love you so much but then just decide that they don’t want anything to do with you anymore.

Kaeya Alberich could. He always did.

#genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact angst #genshin impact #genshin angst #kaeya angst #genshin impact kaeya #kaeya x reader #kaeya alberich #angst no comfort #reverse comfort #kaeya alberich x reader #gender neutral reader #gender neutral y/n #genshin impact oneshots #kaeya oneshot #oneshot #genshin oneshots #angst oneshot

113 notes · View notes