#would you join the glorious evolution?
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The rest of this piece is still very much a work in progress, but I thought I’d share this part of it!
#viktor#arcane viktor#arcane netflix#arcane spoilers#viktor fanart#evil viktor#would you join the glorious evolution?#daddy viktor#arcane fanart#fan art#arcane#league of legends#league of legend art#league of legends fan art#league of legends viktor#digital art
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You know what au i need more of? Jayce joining glorious evolution. Bro, imagine Jayvik as a cyborg power couple, being a figure heads to a whole ass cult. I just think it would have been fun af.
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what do you think Jayce’s reaction to Viktor accidentally starting a cult was/will be?
Idk, I think it kinda depends on how Viktor treats the whole thing. Like the “join the Glorious Evolution” is a nice little tag line for a game character, but they’d have to do some serious work to make it not come across cringey and cartoon-villain-esque in Arcane.
I think if Viktor panders to them, lets them run rampant and preach the virtues of abandoning free will, then Jayce will probably be disgusted. Just as I think he’d be disgusted about Viktor eliminating/attempting to eliminate emotion. He views it as abandoning one’s humanity, and it fills him with grief to know that Viktor thinks that is the answer.
If Viktor is less enthused by the cult (sort of like he was at the beginning of Convergence), then I think perhaps Jayce might see what Viktor sees in them—blind idolatry with no substance. In this instance, I would hope he would see that they don’t stand for what Viktor does, and that a lot of them have twisted his message to serve their own ends.
(Also kinda depends what Viktor’s message actually is. Body augments can help ease your pain and make day-to-day life easier for all Zaunites? 👍 Everyone should eliminate their emotions because it makes you weak, oh and also you don’t get a choice on the matter? 👎)
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As We Fall
✿ Prompt: Jayce reminisces with Caitlyn about his old friend and you ✿
♡ champion focus: jayce and viktor
♡ tw: war
♡ Gender-neutral reader (mentioned)
Author’s Note: This is a little drabble I was hiding away. I didn’t have plans for a part two. If I were to do a part two, I was hopeful to do Viktor’s reign with the reader by his side. So, if you are hopeful for more, feel free to shoot me an ask! Enjoy <3
Raising a clean cloth to her gun, the Resistance sniper stared at the weapon, rotating it accordingly between her fingers. One eye was shut, looking closely to nit-pick at every precise detail. It had to be cleaned. It had to be spotless. She made sure to rid every bit of her weapon from the oil and grime that stained its delicate surface. Even then, it wasn’t enough, one small scuff that scraped near the tip of the rifle driving her mad. She scraped her nail on the edge to pick at it, huffing as she placed the weapon to rest on her lap. She’ll ask Illaoi to help her fine tune it later.
“You’ve already shined that thing five times.” A voice spoke behind her, the woman turning to give Jayce a rather annoyed stare. Her lips curved upwards, shrugging as she flipped it up, folding it to store away in her pack. “And what of it? A weapon should always be polished. One dent allows the enemy to see your weak point.” The battlebots were analytical of those sorts of things, that’s for sure.
Caitlyn motioned for him to sit beside her. Jayce set his hammer down beside him. His fingers brushed at his coat, pulling it up and folding it between his fingers before he sat. As much as he didn’t want to stop and take a break, he could humor Caitlyn. After all, they have been friends since before he…
“Viktor,” Caitlyn began, “With the pace Viktor is moving at, I would expect another wave of the BC’s looking for us right about now.” Caitlyn informed. She pressed a finger to her bottom lip, shaking her head. As if things couldn’t get worse with Viktor mass producing acolytes.
“The V-BC-Corp opened another facility. With it, production will only be faster… Jayce. We’ll loose more people than we’ll gain.”
Sure, anyone in the Resistance knew that. With every empire they brought down, another rose up. Everyone was subject to follow the Glorious Evolution.
And with the ongoing rise of the proclaimed “Battlecast Armies”, soon- humanity- as all knows it- will be wiped out. The only thing stopping the advancement of this movement was a scrappy group of those resisting to adaptation, of furthering to a more divine body.
Nobody would have thought the once frail and weak man from Zaun could lead such a cause, rising to power as Runeterra’s soon-to-be ruler, Zaun’s “waking savior of tomorrow”. In the eyes of the Resistance, Viktor found ways to bind souls to machines, victims becoming “living pawns” to the ever-growing army the Machine Herald built. Innocent people didn’t have a choice to join his self-proclaimed “utopian society”.
“We won’t let him get to that point, Caitlyn. It’s not what they would have wanted-“ “They’re dead.” Caitlyn reasoned, interjecting whatever motivation Jayce was trying to insinuate.
With his head lowered, the blond brought a hand up to the bridge of his nose, inhaling sharply. “I know. I know. I’m sorry.” He raised a hand, motioning to the foregrounds beneath them, brought up in red smoke and flame. He was desperate. “But it should give us more of a reason to fight back. He made these monsters. And we’re the only ones now who can stop him.”
But Viktor was misunderstood. At the start of his movement denizens came to him with free will, choosing to augment themselves. In fact, people worshipped Viktor, thinking he a god. Pedestals and shrines loitered throughout Runeterra, with peculiar idols placed upon them to honor the machine Herald himself. Statues of opaque metal, shined and crafted to model his towering presence, even in regions where such advancements would typically be shunned. He was a savior to the weak, the elixir of life, the leader that would lead manmade machinarium into a new age!
Those with power always looked down on those weaker- those who were like Viktor. Zaun: they were looked down upon. And Viktor was only doing his part is raising his people to the surface so they could all be equal.
“You sure do know how to say the cheesiest things, don’t you?” Caitlyn pointedly joked with him. She nudged his arm, trying to lighten the mood, Jayce half-heartedly chuckling at her sudden enthusiasm. “(Y/N) loved Viktor. They woulda followed him in a heartbeat. And despite that, they knew what he was doing was wrong.” Caitlyn stood, placing her hand on Jayce’s shoulder.
“They did was they had to do to try and stop him. And now, we gotta do the same for them.” Jayce concluded, raising a fist, the young sniper staring at it for a moment, before bringing her own up to bump against his: “For them.”
#saeybaewrites#short#drabble#jayce lol#x reader#viktor lol#jayce league of legends#viktor league of legends#league of legends x reader
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'Grip'. (From Arcane MH!Viktor @Jayce.)
He watched that hand—the extra limb—move with fluidity and grace, almost like it was flesh, hovering over Viktor’s shoulder. The golden eyes watched him and Jayce he met them with as much courage as he could muster. Viktor had changed. But he’s alive, Jayce reminded himself, which of course was the important part, but what of this “glorious evolution”?
“It’s not right, V,” every word was spoken with pain as he fought to maintain his composure. “For you, it—it helped, saved your life, but—”
“Listen to me, Jayce,” Viktor purred, interrupting with one swift motion of the hexclaw, which grasped his friend’s jaw and pulled him closer. “Humanity is rotting from dhe inside. It has no chance. It will be consumed—unless I… Unless we stop it. Are you with me?”
The silent promise was that if Jayce did not join Viktor, he would be in opposition and that was not a pain he thought he could bear long. All the same…
“I-it’s not right,” he managed, his voice faltering though his conviction did not. “People deserve a choice.”
“All choices lead to DAMNATION,” snarled the Machine Herald. “Why is dhis hard to grasp? You are a genius—but you cannot see dhe future laid bare before us?”
“Nobody can see the future… not even you.”
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I mentioned before that I am a huge SWADE fan. Im xurrebtly workahopping my own setting aswell (currently stuff like constantly being depressed and lack of drive slowed momentum somewhat.) Recently i have once again started reading Titan Effect. Man thats such a glorious setting!
It is set in a near-future where spies gifted with psychic powers clash with genetically enhanced soldiers, in a secret war in which the fate of human evolution is at stake.
The great thing is that not only is the setting really cool and fleshed out with tons of new equipment character options, they also include the Super Power companion. Basically, when you make a character you choose what sort of psychic you are, and depending on the choice you can then choose a certain amount of super powers from a list.
Theres also the option to play Bio Augmented Soldiers, which fall unser the categories of Chimera and Neo-Therianthrope.
Chimera Soldiers basically being Humans who have been enhanced with Animal DNA to make them much more effective soldiers. (Tho usually that doesnt happen to volunteers and they usually get brainwashed to serve the antagonist factions). They very obviously have animal characteristics. The super powers chosen for them basically represents their enhanced physicsl characteristics.
Neo-Therianthropes are basically artificially made and grown in test tubes. They also have powers similar to chimeras but differ in that they can shapeshift between a human and partial animal form. Like a werewolf or werebear. Their chosen powers are only available in their hybrid form.
Completely seperate from those to are Natural Therianthropes. Being that can change between a full animal and full human form. Usually reclusive they try to stay out of the secret war, but in rare cases one may join up with an established group for revenge purposes or to protect the few of their dwindling number still existing. Obvioudly bad actors, such as those who create Neo-Therianthropes would love to get their hands on these for research purposes.
Now, issue here is that the entire setting naturally expects the players to be psychics, humans. Relegating BAS to bad guy territory and Natural Therianthropes to EXCEPTIOBALLY rare. But my group, consisting of nothing but furries, would likely all go for the non human option. lmao
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The Herald is near silent as he watches Robin. It's sad seeing him in such a state, and knowing that he could help if the permission was given... He steps closer, hand hovering over the other's shoulder for a moment before he pauses. "You do not have to suffer like this." His tone borders on gentle. "Join me. Join the Glorious Evolution and you will never feel this pain again."
═══ CANON VERSE ═══
"..." He senses the Herald approach him from behind, but does little to move away from the gentle, almost-touch upon his shoulder, there is no malice within this man; not for Robin, at least. The Herald's words are honeyed and the mage recognizes the voice, perhaps one he had been close to in another life, one he wishes to hear more of. Robin turns his head silently as so his large milky eyes catch the golden glow of the Heralds, unable to stop the pang of pain he feels when looking into the face of something so undeniably human, and yet so...changed. He imagines the pain this person had felt in order to fundamentally shift so much of themselves, how loud could a human heart cry before it wishes to stop its own beating? To erase itself entirely as to not feel anything ever again?
"If I did...I would never feel anything again."
He takes a deep breath and lifts his hand to caress Viktor's, finally taking hold of it with a strange understanding in his movements, a spark of life dancing between the two of them, after all, even after everything...they were still human. Even if they didn't wish to be anymore, it was an undeniable fact that could never be changed or redefined. However it was rare to find someone who had equally tried to toss their humanity, someone who could possibly relate, a kindred spirit within the hellscape of their reality. And so...Robin shifts his entire body to stare up at the Herald, or what he can see, his expression teetering on empathetic, as if asking...
What happened to you..?
"I can't live in such a way that I could not feel the sunlight on my skin, or the rain when it falls. I have seen an emptiness such as that before... I cannot go back to it."
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isn't the narrative of Viktor being villainized by Piltover while not being this horrible evil robot man Canon? I know in his current lore, Riot seems to be tracking him in that direction and away from his og characterization.
Heya! Yeah, I would say Viktor in current canon is being written as more of a man that has these ideas--albeit a tad extreme--for bettering humanity. Its made clear he has nothing but good intentions and is respectful of boundaries and big on consent. If people want to join his Glorious Evolution they can, but he doesn't try to control or force anything on anyone. Another thing is that current lore Viktor doesn't have a passing interest in battling Jayce and views him with indifference more than anything else. Like he will react if he interferes with his shit, but doesn't seem very keen on seeking him out.
There's also evidence that he probably is may be lying about being free from emotion. Countless people have pointed out that his and Jayce's lore have big contradictions and, if we are being real, Viktor has more reason to lie and put up this kind of front of being a stoic individual who always thinks logically. That, and his short story uses specific verbiage that includes 'felt' a few times, also highlighting that he has weaknesses to certain attachments. It also frames his disdain for emotion more in line with him disliking negative emotions like fear, which is very easy to understand.
Oh, and while I'm here, said short story is really interesting because Viktor is supposedly keen on replacing flesh with metal yet:
So this also implies they are moving his character away from full on 'relinquish the flesh' and more to using augmentation to 'advance physiology' as needed (also brought up in Arcane by Viktor himself). And I love this direction! I truly think fully embracing technology and applying it similarly is the future (I would love an augmented spine please thank you mine is falling apart 🥲).
This ended up way longer than I wanted per usual lmao
#viktor the machine herald#viktor my beloved#viktor arcane#league of legends#lol#speculation#long post#ask#anon#meta#arcane#mymeta
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taoreta
— The world is in ruins, but there’s beauty in everything. Shouto is reminded of that when he crosses paths with a survivor who kisses him at the first meeting. —
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pairing: todoroki shouto x fem!reader
warnings: smut, 18+, apocalypse!au, cursing, violence, first time writing fight scenes, death, angst, fluff, blood, gore, vomit, & kinks (sexual frustration, hairpulling, biting, marking, scratching, desperation, breeding)
word count: 18,119
a/n: so the thing about apocalypse aus I found out is that the world building is so fucking fun that I forgot that this was an nsfw thing........ so I sincerely apologize if this feels rushed I tried to make this feel solid but like with enough world building to satisfy me. anyways, this is for the bnharem collab, you know the drill. this was not edited at all im so sorry.
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The world was in chaos.
Or well, it once was but still a hundred years after what could only be described as an apocalypse; well, there was still an apocalypse.
Many years ago, well before Todoroki Shouto could remember, quite frankly well before he was alive there had been the introduction of something within the human genome. It was a mutation of sorts, a new gene that allowed individuals to unlock and evolve into these powerful beings that for years longer people used to write about.
People who could breathe fire, emit ice, and fly through the sky! For years it had been a glorious step forward for humankind, a hopeful promise that maybe things would be better — that all things would end better. If Shouto looked hard enough he could still see scattered newspapers in the abandoned streets; nearly destroyed papers from well before any of his parents or grandparents were born indicating the glory days of quirks.
But what was once thought to be a step forward in human evolution ended with a sickening twist.
Those with quirks went on rampages the moment they turned twenty-five, slaughtering and killing everyone in their path. Their mind overtaken by their quirks with the single thought and decision to kill everyone who dared to stop them, who were weaker than them. It must have been terrifying back then, to be so meek, powerless, and afraid seeing people you had once cheered on in acceptance and grace kill off the population in the millions.
Humankind could never survive this.
Those gifted with such powerful feats were granted the ability to live on as immortals, that is until humanity decades later learned it was not true immortality. It was a mere obstruction that was solved when the quirk-given was killed by man. Other than that… they lived on, and on, and on. The false immortality yet another edge against humanity.
People with quirks — better known as the Taoreta today — were the modern-day zombies except there was no rise of the dead, no mass groups of people who craved your flesh and your blood.
No.
They were once users with quirks who appeared just like normal people, sure some of them had distinct quirk features, but for the most part, unless they were distinctly different you couldn’t tell until it was too late.
Todoroki Shouto was different though.
He was apart of the few lasting survival groups in Japan, in the world.
His group was called Yuuei, a collective group of nearly two hundred people who occupied a deserted boarding school entitled U.A. They were apart of the population that was considered to be quirkless, and well, no one had been born with a quirk within this base yet.
This boarding school, but what Shouto had been able to piece together after spending his entire livelihood in the confines of the barbed wired, specially scented gates they lived in. The Gladiolus flower was the worlds saving grace.
By planting these flowers among bases and fragrancing them along borders and barriers, your area was both ignored by those with quirks or smelled so disgusting to those with quirks they would never dare cross. Of course, this wasn’t always true — Shouto had seen too many times the few outliers of this truth stumble towards the base.
Eyes power-hungry, quirks blaring a kilometer away and that horrific silence before a battle. These monstrous onslaughts had decimated his entire bloodline, leaving him only by himself with his friends and chosen family. Everyone had still thought him lucky, he was born around the same time as twenty other babies. His entire life he had grown up in an environment where he always had someone to play with, to learn with, to practice with.
Children were forced to grow up fast in this time and age, no longer was the world of coddling and gentle love. If you loved your children you would teach them how to be resourceful, teach them how to fight, how to kill. By the time you turned fifteen within Yuuei, you were expected to pitch in to survive. Formal classroom education continued on all the way until you were eighteen, but it was known that everyone needed to maintain some sort of educational standard so that Yuuei would never fall internally.
Everyone had a part to play, a piece to do in order to keep things running smoothly.
There were the low-risk jobs within Yuuei starting with the janitors. They were in charge of making sure the school grounds and indoors remained safe and tidy. They applied the Gladiolus flower extract to the gates daily during the fall and winter as the flowers died out by then. It was an easier job, one that was given more to the young children and the elders who could no longer do much else.
Then there were the chefs. They were in charge of the grand garden the community had created many decades ago. They harvested and cooked plenty of vegetables throughout the year, always managing to make just enough so that no one went hungry or starving for more than a day. As recently as thirty years ago, they had introduced their form of animal raising too. Mostly raising and killing deer that had stumbled within their main gates.
Then there was the government. The main part of the government consisted of three people — the president, the vice president, and the one training to one day become president. They took these jobs seriously, meeting every day to see what the community’s latest problems were, discussing to the hundreds of civilians working within this base to make sure civil conflict never broke out. There was also a council made of one member of each residing family member — Shouto remembers that it was his mother who was apart of the council when she was alive… he had assumed this role after she tragically passed, but it was not his only job.
Then there were the educators. These were the ones who dedicated their lives to learning and studying everything they could within their limited, never truly evolving standards so that each younger generation could have a solid foundation within this new world. Shouto remembered how Fuyumi had been so excited to finally reach the end of her second year as a teacher, her eyes delightfully hopeful, ever so clear and bright despite the life they lead.
You could never forget the engineers and the mechanics here — after all, they held one if not the most important job. They were the reason why there was still energy and electricity running through the base, why running water was able to be used by members twice a month, why truly life on base hadn’t erupted into a complete dystopia, and of course, keeping the seekers and the medics alive.
Medics were a given. They were the true saving grace of the camp, Shouto thought so at least. They healed physical injuries, as there were always plenty of those, and they smoothed over mental trauma which was prevalent in every corner of this base. Without medics, they would have never survived this long. Shouto still frequents them aplenty, his trauma from the death of his family still weighing heavily on his chest, his lips always dry and cracked when he remembered how his older brother Natsuo had been ecstatic to join the medical line. He was so big and intimidating in size many had always questioned why he wasn’t a seeker, but Shouto knew his brother had the kindest heart, he wasn’t a fighter unless he had to be.
And finally, there were the seekers. Seekers were by far the most pivotal, most dangerous, and least rewarding role within the base. Twice to three times a week, seekers were to leave the base and go out and search for survivors, resources, anything that may be useful. While for the past hundred years that people have resided in U.A. the local town had been their saving grace, always relying on the abandoned town for their needs, but they had cleared it years ago. Now seekers went out further to get items, all while still doing their basic patrols, and of course fighting off any Taoreta. When they weren’t out running around the country, they were doing patrols around the base to ensure they were always safe. This is the job Shouto has — a job that most of his friends held too. His father and Touya had also held this job long ago, but he had never been able to accomplish a successful run with them…
No… he had to block out that memory.
“Oi, Todoroki!” a voice clipped through his headspace, and Shouto looked away from the cabinet he was once rummaging through. “Get your head outta your ass and do something already, dammit.”
He turned to look at Bakugou who was as grimy and dirty as he was, only that his bag was full of crap and Shouto’s only had dust. Shouto nodded, an apology leaving his lips when his eyes returning back to the already pillaged cabinets and scoured what he could, collecting what he thought to be useful for the base.
It took fifteen minutes for Bakugou and Shouto to pillage all the abandoned homes on this street, they were a great duo together, often working together due to their abrasive and deadly styles and intellect on the field. They had a kill list of three Taoreta together, and an individual score of one on their own, it didn’t seem like much, but coming from people who held no power over these god-like humans, it was incredible. Most people never survived more than one attack from the Taoreta.
But it wasn’t anything to be relieved over, especially not when each survived victory landed them both in hospice care for months.
“Sector five has been cleared,” Shouto spoke into his telecom the moment Bakugou and he emerged from the final house, his eyes glancing at the setting sun in worry. “How’s everyone else doing? Sun setting.”
“We’re all on the car already, waiting on you guys!” came Midoriya’s instant reply.
“This is all your fault,” Bakugou grumbled bitterly while the two of them turned on their heel and began running towards the car they had taken here. “Last as always!”
“We had the most houses to loot, Bakugou, it’s a given,” was Shouto’s easy response, not at all affected by the huffing annoyance of his friend while they reached the car.
Easy and grateful smiles were exchanged between the six seekers when Shouto and Bakugou rejoined the group, a whole day of running this block had left them with zero casualties. On top of all this, they all had full bags of taken items; Shouto considered it a tremendous victory.
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“And what are we checking in today, Todoroki-kun?” Iida asked while Shouto dumped his bag onto the table.
“Toilet paper, paper rolls, canned peaches, flour, rice, medication formula for birth control, expired condoms, and some water,” Shouto listed off, pulling out the items one by one to the nodding Iida.
Iida was a member of the council, and also a seeker much like Shouto was. He was objectively the fastest seeker they had, often clearing out entire rows of houses in half the time it took everyone else. Iida was someone Shouto appreciated very much in this doomful life, a clear leader, and a promising candidate for the presidency one day.
“Oh! The canned peaches could make an excellent addition to Momo’s birthday coming up soon! Kirishima-kun and Sato-kun hit the jackpot with sugar yesterday! This would be a great celebration!” Iida announced, partitioning the different items into different baskets, each one placed into appropriate bins. Shouto remained silent, but he nodded his head, a tired sigh pushing through his lungs while Iida finished putting away his found items. “Momo will also be glad to finally have this formula in her hands, she’s been trying so hard at cracking the code for birth control! But alright! Now for checking in weapons, what do you have for me?”
Shouto’s hands immediately moved to the holsters strapped to his legs.
By being born into this madness, he was never given the right to using any of the guns they held. Guns and ammunition were scarce to come by, they were even more scarce than some of the items they were consistently running out of. When they turned eighteen, each member was given three bullets to attempt to sink it into a target 100 meters away, sink two bullets in, and you were given the right to carry a gun, miss and you wouldn’t.
Of Shouto’s graduating class of forty-one students, only three of them were granted that ability — and two of them weren’t even seekers.
Shouto handed over the knives he had strapped to his muscled thighs, the katana that was strapped to his back, and the brass knuckles that sat on his fists. He remained silent while handing over the fire and ice bombs he had managed to perfect under his parent’s original formulas. He never understood why he wasn’t allowed to keep those bombs, he was the only one who ever checked them out after all, but again, civil disputes could occur at any time, and if the seekers had weapons the rest of the base would be doomed.
“Everything’s accounted for, Iida?” Shouto asked watching while Iida placed everything away.
“Yes!” Iida confirmed, a smile on his face while his hands placed onto his hips with confidence. “Go and get dinner and take a shower!”
Shouto smiled softly. If there was one good thing about being a seeker that wasn’t just experiencing the outside world, it definitely was the fact that being a seeker meant you got to shower more regularly than everyone else.
Dinner was plain as always, a bowl of rice, a slice of deer meat, and an egg. There were a lot of hens here.
Shouto sat with his friends while he ate, quietly adding on to conversations, contradicting his friends whenever he could. It was the little things in life that kept him going honestly, and little things were having Bakugou trying to reach across the dining tables to strangle him while Midoriya and Kirishima intervened. It never failed to make him smile.
“What’s your new schedule for the week, Todoroki?” Kirishima asked, his head dodging Bakugou’s flying elbow with a sharklike grin.
Kirishima was an odd person within this base, he had sharp teeth that reminded everyone of a shark — most people had always assumed it was a side effect of a quirk that had been hidden for ages, but it turned out that while humans evolved quirks for the worse, they were evolving still. Shouto’s own naturally bicolored hair was a testament to that.
“I go on runs Wednesday, Friday, and Sunday,” Shouto spoke with food chipmunked into his cheek. “Council meets on Tuesday, Thursday as always, so I have patrol at night those days. Weapon checkout and morning patrol Monday. Saturday’s my day off.”
“Oh, nice! Looks like all of us have Wednesday and Friday together!” Kirishima cheered, his arms finally letting go of Bakugou who had… calmed down. “Maybe we’ll get lucky and find a good stash and other sur— OW!”
Kirishima’s eyes narrowed onto Bakugou who had deliberately slammed an elbow into his ribcage, but his face softened at the thought of the word he was going to say.
Shouto smiled softly, his head shaking despite it all and he stood up.
“I’m going to go and shower, one of the floors gave through today so I’m a bit exhausted,” Shouto explained, gathering the reusable plate, cup, and chopsticks he had assigned to him. He would scrap any residual food off it and wash it tomorrow — about twenty years ago the mechanics had managed to figure out a reusable and self-cleaning water system used to wash dishes. It was a game-changer for this community.
The echoing goodnights followed after Shouto while he left the dining hall, his hands fisted into his pockets while he climbed the ten flights of stairs to get to his room’s floor.
U.A.’s building was very unique by the looks of it, even for its time when it was first built. It was created with four separate towers, each tower connected with a single walkway to its adjacent tower. From a ways back it looked like an H — at least to Shouto it did. It was to Shouto’s understanding that each tower was designated for different professions for the once Taoreta thriving society. One tower was for hero-in-training students, one tower for general students, one tower for support students, and one tower for business students — at least that was what was understood by the textbooks found in these old classrooms. Of the four towers, only the support student tower was uninhabited because there were always modifications and major systems running there and they needed all the room.
Shouto, along with most of his friends, resided in the hero-in-training tower. Because he had once had such a large family his room — something that was greatly unappreciated by the other members of the community — Shouto had to climb all the way to the top of the building.
No one else resided on this floor with him, which was often nice because it had once meant he and his family could do whatever they wished. But with their passing, it was so lonely, so offputting that Shouto only returned to his room to sleep and that was it.
The shower was comforting tonight, the gentle smell of the soap drafting off his body along with thick suds eased him. His shower lasted only a whooping two minutes; they had been taught how to efficiently shower, wasted water was always a downfall. Even with the major technological advances they made, running water was still a problem they had yet to solve. His dirty grimy skin that hadn’t showered in three days sang in relief with the dirt gone; his last seek was that many days ago after all.
With a towel around his waist, he walked back to his room, the suffocating darkness strangling him when he stepped into the room. Shouto paid no attention to the way his skin crawled in loneliness, his attention focused on placing the toothpaste pill on his tongue and grimacing at the sharp, minty taste. It seemed that Mei was messing around with the flavors again.
Finally satisfied with his clean-smelling breath, Shouto wasted no time in crawling into his bed, his eyes concentrated on his journal that read practically what was the same thing it always said every day he wrote an entry into it (the medics said that these entries were healthy for his mental wellbeing):
September 16, 2XX1
It’s been eight years since everyone died, and another day spent working. I’m not feeling any different from the day before, but I am looking forward to celebrating Yaoyorozu’s birthday this coming Saturday. It won’t be any different from last year, but it should be fun.
Signed, Todoroki Shouto
It took some time, but eventually sleep consumed Shouto, his mind restless despite his slumber.
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Shouto paused when the blood on the door handle easily transferred onto his fingers. He pressed his fingers to his palm, the padding on the fingerless glove shining dully with the slick of blood across the material. He could only make one conclusion from this: it was recent.
“I just made contact with fresh blood,” Shouto spoke into the radio system, his eyes concentrated on the door he was supposed to enter through. “I’m going in, if I don’t respond in five minutes, assume the worst and leave.”
“If it’s an injured Taoreta—” Bakugou warned, his voice the first to respond over the com system, but Shouto already knew what his best partner would say to this.
“Can’t have me having all the glory, I know. Besides, I don’t think it’s a Taoreta, there’s no major damage anywhere and well… if it’s injured there should be some fight scene.”
Shouto’s lips tugged into a small smile when Bakugou began to argue back about how he noticed there was no major destruction around this part of the block, and he dropped his scavenger bag onto the floor. If this was a survivor there was no saying if they were good or bad, and well, Shouto wasn’t about to fight a bad one with 10 kilograms on his back.
The door creaked loudly when he entered, his hand pulling out the hunting knife he had. The other day his typical go-to katana had been broken during a brief battle between a weak Taoreta and a veteran seeker. It had been a hard loss, Shouto wouldn’t lie, but it was manageable because his knives had been salvaged.
He crept in silently, the soles of his combat boots nearly silent against the floor while he walked in, his concentrated on the scene around him, all senses on high alert due to the insane anxiety from this all. His eyes dragged across every crook and nanny of the entrance room, not quite sure what to expected from this until he saw something ruby red smudged on the floor.
With a small nod to himself, Shouto proceeded forward, following the light trail of blood until he stopped into a room where the trail ended and no one was. He frowned looking around the abandoned room, old and long faded drawings covered the walls, the bed hastily made, and crayons scattered on the floor.
Maybe the person had already left, he thought glancing down at the crayons figuring that they would be good to take back. But the moment that he turned to face the door, was when he finally saw someone, and it was a good thing too because he ducked out of the way of a quick, most definitely life ending swing of a bat that held multiple nails in it.
Shouto’s eyes were wide while he dodged and weaved out of the way of the swinging bat, strong elbows bashing into his ribs, and the occasional nail tearing into his skin. He could barely focus on his attacker, his concentration heavy on the way that this person was tirelessly fighting for their life despite the exhaustion in their bones.
He weaved and dodged the flying wood, cursing at the way it nicked his skin in multiple places, and how their foot slammed into his stomach. It knocked the wind out of Shouto as he fell onto the floor, the wild look in their eyes as the bat arched downward only to miss him, embedding into the floor. Shouto took that as an initiative to slam his foot onto the hilt of the bat, the weapon clanging onto the floor while he tackled his attacker onto the floor.
“Let go!” you shrieked, your eyes in a panic while you attempted to twist your body out from under Shouto. “I’m not going to let you fucking kill me, you stupid fucking Taoreta!”
Now that bothered Shouto.
“I’m not some damn Taoreta!” Shouto spat back, his eyes narrowing down onto how you were struggling against his hold. Blood was dried and matted onto your forehead, dirt, grime, and soot-covered every exposed millimeter of your body, and blood-soaked your arm.
With that simple sentence, Shouto watched in almost confused annoyance when you snapped up to look at him. Your hair was matted, it was obvious that while you weren’t horrendously smelly, you hadn’t bathed in days. Your lips were cracked and pale, and your eyes looked so scared, lost, and still… excited? The tears that poured down your face highlighted the clearer skin that was covered by the dirt.
“Are you okay? You’re smiling pretty weir— mmph?!”
Shouto’s words were stolen from his tongue for you had reached upward in this desperate, frantic glee and kissed him firmly on the lips. It wasn’t often that Shouto froze, and honestly, he could count the number of times he had been frozen to the core, but with this desperate, longing kiss on his lips that exploded fire onto his cheeks, he was unable to move. He was only able to feel the wet streaks from your cheeks pressed onto his, focus on the heavy frantic breathing that passed through your nose.
His eyes blinked rapidly while you pulled away from him, a starstruck look on your face.
“It’s… it’s been a year since I’ve seen anyone who wasn’t a Taoreta,” you awe, fingers pressing onto his cheeks in an attempt to make sure this was actually real. “Are you real? You’re real right? Please don’t tell me you’re—”
“TODOROKI, ARE YOU ALIVE!” a voice bellowed, the door being kicked open, and both Shouto and you looked at the entrance of the room to see Bakugou standing there with his weapons drawn, teeth bared in a silent cry of war.
Shouto didn’t know what to do, feeling as if the world’s gravity was crushing onto him while he gathered the confused, appalled look in Bakugou’s eyes while he looked down onto the interesting position he was in. You, on the other hand, felt more tears forming in your eyes at the sight of yet another survivor.
“The fuck you playing hooky for?!” Bakugou yelled, his face contorted with disgust and something unreadable when staring at the position the two of you were in. “Who the fuck is this?!”
Shouto remained speechless, his mind still stuck on the fact that you had kissed him like separated lovers and not the strangers that you were. Worse off he was caught in an embarrassing position by Bakugou of all places who was quite frankly the meanest guard dog they had. You weren’t given a second to speak, to try to clarify who you were and why you were here because Bakugou clicked everything together far faster than you could defend yourself.
“Don’t tell me this is a fucking Taoreta with a damn love quirk!” Bakugou snapped, grabbing Shouto by the collar and throwing him off you.
Your eyes widened in a panic, the sickening sound of unsheathing steel ringing venomously in your ears while Bakugou drew dual arming swords. You scrambled backward immediately, hands finding the hilt of your bat and spinning up to your feet in a readying position. Like hell you were going to be murdered.
“Bakugou, stop!” Shouto yelled, pushing himself up onto his feet while the blond-haired man shot forward at you.
He cursed annoyedly, unable to intercept or intervene Bakugou’s explosive fighting style with just his knives. But he also realized that you weren’t failing at keeping Bakugou away with just a bat in the small room. Swings of steel and wood whistled in the air while the two of you went at it, useless battle soaked insults being thrown left and right while Shouto could only watch as the swords embedded into the bat, and then into a wall.
Shouto acted quickly, his arms circling under Bakugou’s armpits, his hands locking around his head and yanking him away.
“She’s not a damn Taoreta, she’s a survivor!” Shouto yelled again, both of them stumbling backward and landing on the floor while you remained frozen by the wall. Both the weapons stable in the wall despite the horror of what could have been the end of your life.
“How the fuck would you know that?! She could be brainwashing you for all we know!” Bakugou yelled, his body twisting and turning, trying to get out the larger mans hold. “Slimy little shit got you didn’t she?!”
“I’m not a Taoreta!”
“She’s not a Taoreta!”
You and Shouto yelled in synch, your fingers thrusting up to your eyes. “Do you see my sclera?! They’re not fucking red!”
The two men froze in their struggles to get the other to obey their commands, both raising their attention to you, shocked by what you said.
“What do you mean?” Shouto asked, his arms still holding Bakugou in place, his eyes landing on you confused.
You, on the other hand, froze. Your eyes blinked owlishly, fingers curling into a weak fist and placing onto your stomach, “Have you guys never noticed? Taoreta always has their scleras turn red and they grow darker with prolonged quirk use… that’s how you know how strong and how long they’ve been around. The stronger they are, the redder the sclera.”
“Get the fuck off me,” Bakugou growled, his body twisting against Shouto, but Shouto was too busy thinking about what you said, his mind sucked into his memories of that fateful night. “Bastard, I’m not gonna attack her! Let me fucking go already, dammit!”
Shouto let go immediately, watching as his friend rolled over onto his knees and stood up without a single hitch. Bakugou yanked his swords from the wall letting your bat fall onto the floor with a loud crash. His eyes burned into you, watching you with a borderline sneer until he walked away.
“Figure out what the fuck we’re doing with her, five minutes until we have to leave,” was the only thing Bakugou uttered before leaving the building.
“What to do with me?” you echoed, your fingers twitching down towards your bat. “Don’t tell me the first people I find in a year are cannibals!”
Shouto’s face twists while looking up at you, your hands once again grabbing your bat raising it up in an act of self-defense; agony and disbelief overflowing in your face. It was bleeding obvious now that you had been alone for ages, the already emotional polar ends of yourself revealed to Shouto even before he knew your name.
“You need to calm down, we’re not cannibals, Bakugou literally walked away. If we were, you would have been dead already,” Shouto reasoned, his hands held up in a signal of surrender while he stood. His words were calm and steady, his “We’re a part of a surviving group, and we have a base up on the mountain north from here. You’re the tenth person we’ve found out here, and if you would like, we can offer you a place.”
“How can I trust you? You could be some cult group for all I know! Using me as some breeding whore to bring the second coming of the taoreta!” you panicked, your eyes wild with the fabricated lies you were drawing in your mind. “I don’t have the hips to have a child! I won’t bear your dumb cult a child!”
Shouto blinked, a low headache forming behind his eyes while he looked at your heaving form. He studied you closer now, your bat was frozen in place while you stared back. Your cheeks were sunken from lack of nutrients, your lips pale and cracked, and your eyes (once you ignored the savage glint to it) were like glass. You were not okay, even if you had managed to fight both Bakugou and him, there was no doubting that you hadn’t eaten in days.
Shouto sucked in his cheeks, by the looks of it you were running on pure adrenaline at this point — not actual energy.
“Meet back at the car in five,” Kirishima’s voice rang in the headset, and Shouto’s mouth pursed.
“We’re not cannibals, or a cult, or whatever weird groups of people you’ve run into. We’re just… people trying to live to see the next day. Come with us, or not, I can’t convince you, but we have shelter... food, water, showers. If you want, we can be a place for you to stay, if you want.” Shouto speaks softly, his hands are lowered at his waist, trying to show that he wasn’t a threat to you. It didn’t matter to him if you went with them — you were just a stranger after all — but he wouldn’t feel right letting you go without trying to save you.
You hesitate, your eyes looking down at your feet while you contemplate. He remains quiet, the voices of his friends ringing in his ears while they communicate on their way back to the car. But finally, he saw something that confirmed he would take you back by force.
Blood dripped down your leg and fingertips, seeping into your clothes, staining the floor.
“I don’t want to die,” you confess, your voice small and scared. “I don’t want to be alone anymore.”
“I promise you won’t be alone; you won’t die on my watch… but you’re hurt,” Shouto reasoned, his body instinctually moving closer to you. You pressed against the back of the wall, the aggression in your body long having died out. “We can heal you, and if you don’t feel safe you’re welcome to leave—” his eyes hold yours, and he swears the world stills at this moment, he can hear nothing but your hammering heart and his own, “I promise you.”
You would later claim that you gave in because you were injured and exhausted, but your hand reached out with a tremble and took his steady one. It was weird, feeling his hand in yours, so calloused and worn. Even if all you felt were his fingers, this was the first time in forever since you had human contact. Despite everything going on, the own swinging egos in your mind that screamed at you to kill him or to kiss him more, sudden ease came over you. You didn’t trust him, you couldn’t — you weren’t that big of an idiot — but his dual colored eyes held yours steadily, warmly, safely and the only thing you could do was agree with him. Despite being brought up on one principle, one defining law, you broke it when it came down to this stranger before you.
No matter what happens, never trust anyone.
“I’m Todoroki Shouto, by the way,” Shouto finally introduced himself, his words breaking the silence that had fallen over the both of you while he guided you out of the house. “I’m apart of a surviving group called Yuuei, and we’ve been around for about a hundred years.”
“Y/l/n y/n,” you return with a grimace.
When was the last time you ever had to introduce yourself before? You had no memories of the last time you had to tell someone your name. His face lifted into a gentle smile, one that you couldn’t see as anything but being polite before he turned and began walking. His strides were long but quick, far outpacing you despite the obvious worry to your bleeding wounds.
You had been attacked earlier by some dying taoreta, and even with its dying breath, it was otherworldly powerful. The person who had nearly managed to slay the taoreta had been decapitated when you had accidentally stumbled on the screeching monster. Its fingers were blades made from its bones, and it had stabbed you before you could even fight back. The taoreta had destroyed the machete you had used as your main weapon, the splintering metal being what ended up killing the savage monster.
A ragged breath escaped you in the realization that you had survived that.
There was no stopping the onslaught of tears and sobs that ripped through your throat while Shouto pulled you after him. The stabbing blistering pain in your side and arm was throbbing while you tried to keep up. You had survived, the pain an undeniable testament to that, the bat dragging against the floor a reminder that you weren’t done just yet. Shouto’s eyes grazed over you, and you were grateful he didn’t say anything while you continued to cry, emotions, and relief washing over you.
Shouto’s face remained neutral if a little bit uncomfortable while he dragged you back to the car, his voice low and quiet while he informed the rest of his group that he wasn’t coming back alone.
Still, it was to no surprise that the moment Shouto stopped in front of the car four of the five others were on edge, looking down at his crying companion.
Midoriya, Kirishima, Kaminari, and Iida stood on the trunk of the car, their weapons were drawn towards you; hesitation and concern heavy in their eyes. Bakugou, who was driving the car, couldn’t even be bothered to look at you — after all, he had already okayed you. Well, Shouto thought he had okayed you, he wasn’t exactly clear on things like that. Besides, it wasn’t as if they came across many survivors to okay in the first place.
“Who is this?” Iida asked first, his eyes unwavering while you rubbed streaks of blood onto your face. “Is she dangerous?”
“I wouldn’t have brought her back if she was,” Shouto lifted an eyebrow, unamused with the stiffness in all their postures. “We disagreed earlier, but she thought I was a taoreta at first glance, it’s all good now.”
“And she’s okay now? She’s bleeding like a fuckton,” Kaminari squeaked, his fingers thrusting out to your blood-soaked clothes.
Honestly, it surprised Shouto just how weird his group of friends were. They were all unbelievably strong, each possessing the ability to have already successfully killed one taoreta, yet they were cowering in fear over you.
“Does she come from a group? Is she being followed?” Kirishima cautiously asked, his eyes leaving your body to scour the surrounding buildings. “Is she sick?”
Shouto looked behind him, his eyes taking in your paling and sullen form, you looked terrible.
Pressing his hand to your forehead, he felt your temperature with both his left and right side.
“No fever, but she’s bleeding obviously. I’m not sure if she obtained any injuries from fighting Bakugou or me,” Shouto explained clearly, only being able to answer one of those questions for you. “I can’t say if there’s a group around — or if she’s with one, but she said she’s been alone for a year.” His calculating gaze met the stubborn stares of his friends who could only stare at you, and a rush of annoyance flooded him while he ran a hand through his hair. “We don’t have time to argue though, the suns setting and we need to get back to base.”
“Put this on her,” Midoriya was the first to pull back, something that did not come as a surprise to Shouto, and he threw a bandana he typically wore around his wrist at Shouto. “If she’s not being followed, at the very least we can prevent her from relaying how she got to base.”
Shouto nodded, moving quickly to tie the green fabric around your eyes and piling you onto the trunk. Midoriya moved into the car with your new addition and sat next to Bakugou who floored the pedal and took off into the mountain.
UA truly was a blessing of a fort, not only was is incredibly huge, but it had natural barriers to act in their favor. And Shouto relaxed on the bed of the truck, his head pressing against the cold plastic, a hand resting on the items he had recovered for the day, and the other one still holding onto yours.
He tried to ignore the way they continued to stare at you in distrust despite having all your weapons inside the car so that he could sleep, but eventually, he gave up. His eyes continuing to glare back at his friends until they dropped their gaze on you. He knew you weren’t a threat, and like hell he was going to let them treat you like one.
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When the bandana-blindfold came off your eyes, your hand in Shouto’s began to sweat profusely. Your wounds had stopped bleeding thanks to the green-haired boy’s ministrations, but you definitely felt lethargic from the loss of blood.
Blinking rapidly, you looked around, freezing when you saw that the group of six men had expanded to much larger numbers of only men. Breeding cult, your mind hissed and you felt your hands twitch, a nervous thought to grab the weapons you no longer had.
“You’re scaring her!” a voice yelled, and your head snapped towards a voice you couldn’t see. “Who wants to wake up to a sea of scraggly, ugly men?”
Your jaw slacked when you saw a pink-skinned woman shove her way through the crowd to stand before you. No way in hell was she not a taoreta!
“Hi! My name is Ashido Mina, and I know what you’re thinking,” she spoke, her arms crossing against her chest while a prideful smirk spread across her face. “How is she so hot?”
Maybe if it had been a day where you weren’t half dead, lacking a needed amount of blood, and much more in control of your emotions, you wouldn’t have burst out in laughter. Your dirty fingers pressed onto your mouth while you tried to play off your peals of laughter to no success.
“Oh, I like this one already,” Mina grinned, her hands pressing onto the edge of the truck to look at you closer. “However, my skin is pink because of a dying accident gone wrong when I was a child. It was as permanent as permanent can get so… please don’t think I’m a taoreta!”
You nodded your head, your body wincing with the stabbing pain, and Shouto was quick to notice that you were still in pain.
“Mina, can we walk and talk?” Shouto asked, his hand pressing to your spine in order to get you to start moving, even without permission to do so. “Y/l/n has three wounds that need to be tended to; she already lost a lot of blood. You can do your welcoming thing and interrogation while she gets patched up by Shuzenji.”
Mina pouted; a sound of discontent with the arising situation, but she nodded. Shouto’s lips pressed into a thin-lipped smile, and with Mina’s help, they guided you off the car and onwards towards the infirmary.
“I’m not going to be killed, am I?” you ask, knowing it was far too late for your cold feet to be kicking in. “I never thought I’d be killed by humans.”
“God, no! Shuzenji is the best medic in the world, hands down. She’s gonna patch ya up, and I’ll talk with you while she does that, and then we’ll find out our best course of action afterward!” Mina exclaimed, her hand repositioning your weak arm around her shoulder. “I swear it won’t be that hard!”
True to her word, you were not killed.
In fact, the only scary thing you were met with was an angry, just woken up from her slumber, elder woman. After she had yelled at the crowd of men who had followed after you to leave you alone given that you were her patient, she had taken you inside with Mina. But you had panicked when she tried to get Shouto to step away, your hand which had not separated from his since the moment you had left the house unwilling to let go of him. So, he was permitted to stay.
You sat on an old infirmary bed, your pinky still touching Shouto’s while Shuzenji — nicknamed Recovery Girl by the surviving group — tended to your wounds. You answered a whole lot of questions from Mina while trying not to let your pain bleed into your voice.
You told them your birthday, your age, the last time you were sick, how long you’ve been alone (you couldn’t say why you were alone), and how you got those injuries of yours.
They had been impressed with your confession that it was from killing a taoreta, even a critically injured one was monstrously powerful after all, and Shouto would argue the ones on the brink of death were stronger than when fully healed. Mina, however, was a great conversationalist and did exceptionally well at making you feel comfortable despite everything.
They took your height, weight, blood type, and hell, Recovery Girl even tested your blood for infections you might have not known you had. She was a medical genius — a true benefit to being in this base. Despite her previous anger, she ended up being a very sweet woman, caring and charming while she fixed you up — cleaning and bandaging your wounds before leaving by giving you a homemade sweet and an orange to eat.
“Alrighty, y/n-chan,” Mina chirped, her hands pulling out a clipboard which seemed to come out from nowhere while she scribbled things down with a series of successive nods. “You have checked out perfectly in our first-day system, of course for you to be implemented in our system — should you want to do that — there will be voting on Thursday! Well, tomorrow really! In the meantime for tonight we would have to find you somewhere to sleep…” her voice trailed off while she contemplated your options. You continued to stare up at her with unknowing confused eyes, trying your best to keep the storming anxiety in your stomach at bay. “We have a few rooms that are open, but… no offense we can’t trust you yet, so we’ll have to put you somewhere with someone. I can ask Tsuyu?”
“She can stay with me,” Shouto spoke, his face expressionless, but his eyes soft. “I have one of the biggest rooms; it’s not that big a deal.”
Your anxiety lessened while you looked over at Shouto, unable to keep yourself from staring at him. Mina had no objections to this, a grateful smile falling over her features while she nodded, “Okay! I’ll send up a clean change of clothes if you need any? I have quite a lot.”
“That would be appreciated, thank you.”
“If she showers, you won’t be able to tonight. Mei destroyed a pipe by accident while trying to create a useable water source — it worked for two hours before breaking, so I think Yuuei will have constant running water by Momo’s birthday!” Mina chirped, her hands pressing the clipboard to her stomach. “But you’re good to go! Please still be mindful of any diseases though, just because you were cleared of the basic ones doesn’t mean you’re clean.”
You nodded watching as she too left you alone with Shouto.
“My room is on the fourteenth floor, do you think you can handle walking up that many flights of stairs?” Shouto asked, his hand steadying you while you slid onto your feet.
Despite everything, you were already feeling better. Your head while feeling a bit light was nothing compared to the groggy headache you had once had.
“I might need some help, but I think… I think, for now, I should be okay,” you inform Shouto, and he nods in understanding.
So the two of you in a weird silence, eventually made your way up to his floor, your body shaking by the time you walked onto the floor, but your hand never leaving his. He showed you the room the two of you would be in, and true to his word, it was large. There were two tatami mats, one by a window, and the other by the door. Random items littered the walls and the floors, most of which were toys and things to pass time with, but it was so unnaturally domestic to you, you didn’t know how to react. It was now that he let go of your hand altogether (an action that made you realize just how touch-deprived you’d been), leaving you to take in the state of his room while he walked around.
“You… you don’t have to give up your shower for me,” you spoke while watching Shouto rummage through his things, procuring a dry and clean towel for you. “I haven’t showered in some time, and I don’t want to make you be in your dirt for longer than needed.”
Shouto looked at you, his head tilting slightly before he shook his head. He walked over to you with his shower things, handing over the shampoo, conditioner, and soap. “You need to clean up because you have wounds, I’m fine. Besides… you stink more than me anyway.”
The truth to his words made your cheeks burn, but there was no judgment in his eyes while he leaned against the wall. You stood there by him unable to think of anything to say until Mina’s fist knocked against the opened door.
“Here are your clothes! Some PJs and extra clothes! I didn’t know if you had any extra clean clothes or your size but with your measurements, I took a wild guess. I hope they fit! I took the liberty of bringing you what I could spare!”
“There are way more clothes than that,” Shouto commented, his eyes judging the pink-skinned girl.
“Sorry that I’m assigned to clothes and have to follow code!” Mina huffed, her cheeks brightening with embarrassment before she stuck out her tongue and ran away leaving both of you alone once again. With the clean set of clothes and the ability to finally fo what you must, you asked where the shower was, and Shouto brought you to where the shower was located on the floor.
You hated to admit it, but you were sincerely grateful he let you shower. Your fingers worked out the many day’s old dirt from your hair, the soap sudding against your skin while you scrubbed weeks old layers from your skin until it throbbed in its rawness. You left the shower with a wince from your now healing wounds, but feeling a sense of freshness you hadn’t known in a while.
The PJs you were given were just a pair of sweatpants and a sweater, something you were grateful for, especially as the material was soft and warm against your cold skin. When you pushed into the room, you noticed that Shouto was sitting on the mat nearest to the door — leaving you with the one by the window.
A small lamp was by Shouto, and you couldn’t tell what he was writing while you piled onto your tatami, your fingers immediately grabbing the blankets that sat at the end of the mat before pulling it over your body. You stared at Shouto in silence, unable to simply fall asleep, your thoughts much too fascinated with him. Why had he done this all? You had attacked him and his friend; yet here he was, doing much more than what you could have ever asked from him.
“Will I fit in?” you ask quietly, your eyes concentrating up onto the ceiling. “Will I be voted out?”
There was a prolonged silence, a bit too long for your own liking while serious doubts threaded into your pool of anxiety.
“You’ll fit in,” Shouto spoke, his words clear and confident. “I promised you’d be okay, didn’t I?”
Your head nods, although you are unsure whether or not he saw you doing so.
“So it’s always perfect in here? There isn’t… there isn’t any dangerous taoreta lurking around, is there?”
“No,” Shouto softly says, and you turn your head, your wet hair pressing onto your cheek while watching as he puts a journal down. “To both questions. We’re human, drama and issues always arise, but things always end up okay. UA is also on a mountain surrounded by woods, most taoreta don’t bother making their way up here, especially since we have traps up. But dangerous ones tend to appear during rainy days — especially during winter.”
“Why’s that?” you ask in a small, small voice. It was fall right now after all.
Shouto met your gaze, his eyes swimming with emotions you couldn’t read, but thoughts that screamed that he was unsure whether he should tell you. Was there a reason to make you worry right now?
“During the winter we don’t have any protection. We have Gladiolus flowers planted all around the mountain just to keep taoreta away, and while they die during the fall, they’re still not decayed entirely so… they’re still useful. We can only use Gladiolus oil on the barrier of UA during the winter, meaning that taoreta can climb the hill and find us if they’re lucky enough. But when it rains, the oils washed off, and with the Gladiolus all dead, we’re exposed.” he explains to you in earnest and you nod numbly, your heart already hammering away.
You wished you had known that months ago…
“You okay?”
The tears in your eyes refused to stop falling down your face while horror consumed your bones. One year alone, countless nights spent in fear that someone would discover you while you were asleep, and hatred for the world burned in every cell of your body pouring over as bitter, useless tears while you gasped for air.
“W-Will you… can you hold my hand?” you gasped, your body burning in your embarrassment and fear. “I can’t stop thinking that I’m… am I safe?”
You couldn’t see anything, the tears in your eyes blinding you completely.
It had been such a hard, difficult, death-defying day and you were finally processing it all.
A hand held onto yours mid muffled sob, and comfort washed over you slightly but not enough.
You would fall asleep shortly afterward, your body rattled with your hiccuping sobs, and your face puffy and swollen from your tears. Shouto could only stare at your slumbering form, the tension, and anxiety heavy on your face despite passing on to the land of dreams. With a soft ache in his heart for you, he turned off the light, his hand still in yours, his tatami mat pressed next to yours.
And as sleep consumed him too, his journal which was the most unique entry he’s written since his adolescence rang clearly in his head:
September 20, 2XX1
It’s been eight years since everyone died, and another day spent working. Today was different, something new happened today. I found a survivor who tried to kill me, her name is y/l/n y/n. I don’t know much about her, but she’s different. I’m not sure what’s going to happen, but I hope she’ll be happy.
Signed, Todoroki Shouto
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It was Momo’s birthday today.
It was also the fourth day since you had entered the base, and with your entrance, things had become different around UA. During the first morning, people had hung on your every word, blatantly fascinated with you even if they were a bit apprehensive. The council also allowed you to stay, which had left you an emotional mess.
With you being new and injured, it was proclaimed that you could have a week to rest and adjust to the society found within the barriers of the old school. You were to be placed with the janitors the moment your allowed rest was over. You were given clothes, plates and utensils, and bathroom items, all of which you took with a watery smile.
As for your living situation, you were to stay with Shouto until he thought it was best that you left. It wasn’t something you were against at all — right now he was the only person you sincerely trusted and got along with. Shouto also did not mind, in fact he rather enjoyed having someone else fill the emptiness of his room.
Overall, it was going well, but the most important thing was happening today.
You would be put into a group of Shouto’s closest and best friends.
He had briefly explained to you who they all were because you had asked the night before, your stomach twisting in thought that maybe they wouldn’t like you.
But with Momo turning twenty, Shouto immediately warned you the type of party it was going to be. With the mass majority of their friends being seekers and therefore getting to claim first dibs on items, alcohol and weed were going to be used.
So there you stood three hours into a pretty fun party, your nose twitching at the nasty but sweet smell of marijuana and the bittersweet smell of alcohol on all of their breaths. You stood by the group of girls watching as Momo bashfully chugged a bottle of wine with the dignity of an extremely classy person and not the trashiness that was actually true of this all.
Your hand waved in front of you, once again denying the joint that was being passed around and the bottle of liquor trying to be handed to you. Recovery Girl had appeared before you earlier today while you were exploring the campus only to warn you what would happen should you participate in these actions while healing still. To say the least you wouldn’t even tempt the idea.
“So how is Mr. Todoroki?” Mina asked, her arm slumping over your shoulder while she chugged her bottle of who knows what. “Didya know he was the only one no one could ever get to date!?”
Your brows furrowed while you continued to try to find Shouto yourself. He had sort of left you alone and your anxiety always bayed with him in sight.
“We all dated around the circle of friends,” a girl with the palest skin you’ve ever seen before — Hagakure — explained. “The only one none of us could crack was Todoroki-kun, which lemme tell you seemed much more possible than Bakugou!”
You recognized and was able to put a face to the name Bakugou, but that information didn’t really surprise you. In your old group, it wasn’t that much different. There wasn’t anything to help you meet anyone, and so dating was something you did with everyone in your age group. But Shouto seemed very sweet, a genuinely good person that had you unbelieving of him never having dated.
“He’s still never had his first kiss!” Uraraka, a girl with a permanent blush on her face even without liquor in her blood, slurred with a wink. “Most girls just make him so nervous.”
Never… he’s never had his first kiss?! You took his first kiss?!
“Fucking shit!” you exclaimed, your hands pressing to your cheeks while you shook your head, your heart hammering away while you stepped away from the group of girls whose attention was captured by a frog impersonation by Tsuyu.
Shame and guilt sat heavy in your stomach and you walked away, the memory of you first meeting with Shouto replaying over and over in your head. You wanted to go sleep now, your heart hammering in your cheeks in past embarrassment for your actions. It had just been so long since you had seen a friendly face, and you had gotten overexcited.
Shouto, who had been slowly sipping from his cup of sake, saw your retreating form and instantly downed the rest of his sweet liquor. He had been pleased you had gotten along with his group of friends, most especially the girls. Through the past four days he had tried to introduce you to them all so that this party wouldn’t overwhelm you, and seeing that you had managed to stay in a conversation with them without him being there seemed like a positive improvement to him.
That is until you turned on your heel and walked away from the group, your eyes glass, and your steps quick.
He followed you out of the gym which is where they had all been in, his hands shoving into his pockets while he waited for you to turn around. But it seemed that you were deep in thought because you didn’t even seem to detect his presence. So, he opened his mouth, his lips quirking upward in amusement.
“Are you going back to the room?”
“Shit!” you jumped, your eyes wide and nearly crazed while you turned towards him, but a wave of regret his your face and Shouto knew you overexerted your injury. “Sorry, Shouto, I didn’t see… I didn’t hear you there.”
“Are you going back to the room?” he asked again, his head tilting in curiosity.
You nodded your head, your smile soft, “I was really tired, and I didn’t want to drag you away from your friend’s party. Don’t worry about me, you can stay, I’ll be fine!”
Shouto shook his head, moving so that he was standing right next to you, “It’s getting late and I’m seeking tomorrow. I have to rest, can’t do my job correctly while fighting a hangover.”
“It would really suck to know that you died on the job, I can’t imagine what I would do with all that space you would leave for me,” you tease, your smile small while he rolls his eyes.
“We’ve known each other four days and you’re already trying to kill me off? That’s a bit cruel, isn’t it?” Shouto asks, his hand sticking out for you to hold on to should you want to, and you do without question. It was a habit the both of you had quickly formed within four days, but it wasn’t going to die anytime soon, not with the night terrors you had at least.
“It’s the perks of being my friend,” you insist, your head nodding in finality, and Shouto begins to walk. You follow him swiftly and surely, but the same thoughts that plagued your mind began to resurface in your temporary silence. “Was I your first kiss?”
Shouto looked down at you, his eyes unable to be read by you, but the slight perk in his mouth let you know that he was amused and not offended.
“Why do you want to know?”
You sigh, your thoughts falling onto the giggling group of girls before.
“Well, your friends said you were the only one who never…”
“Yes?”
“Never took their advances, and they all said they haven’t kissed you before!”
Shouto opens the door to the building, letting you in. “You were my first kiss.”
You shudder, the horror of a story that would be with him for the rest of his life. An injured lunatic laying one on him without a second thought.
“Why was I your first kiss?” you ask, unsure as to why you were so curious about needing this information from Shouto.
“Because I never dated anyone before,” Shouto simply stated, his hands holding yours gently while you climbed the stairs that still winded you by the tenth flight.
“But why?” you find yourself pestering for more, your thoughts unable to figure out why he wouldn’t. There was no denying that he was incredibly handsome, stupidly so — even you had to admit that from the first glance you had of him. The girls also saw that — it was very obvious, so what was missing?
He was silent for some time, and it was something that you had already grown used to. His pauses happened when he didn’t have a clear thought, and while it didn’t happen often, it was enough for you to have already picked up on.
“During my school years I was more focused on other things,” Shouto confessed, pausing on a stair to allow you to gain your breath. “Something happened with my family and it took a lot of my time and energy away.”
While you knew that his family wasn’t in the picture anymore, you had no idea what had happened to them. You contemplated asking about it or not, your teeth tearing into your bottom lip while he stared down at you. The question was evident on your face though, most definitely screaming on top of your lungs despite you not uttering a single word.
“I’m not ready to talk about it yet, sorry,” Shouto confessed, and you nodded your head, you understood the feeling.
“Maybe one day I’ll tell you about my story too, one day we’ll both be ready, right?” you asked, your feet already making its way up the staircase even before he did.
Shouto smiled just the tiniest bit broken, and he nodded his head, continuing up the stairs after you with a sense of relief rushing through him
“Of course.”
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“Oh my god, it’s freezing.”
“I told you it was going to be cold, its November!”
You pressed the winter coat to your body even tighter, somehow you wanted the threads to become even closer than a second skin.
It had been two months since you had managed to find yourself in the same area as Todoroki Shouto, and so far, not a single day went by where you regretted it. Hell, even the wounds on your body had become purpling scars and eventually disappeared altogether. In two months the two of you had become quick and strikingly close friends, the both of you naturally growing closer due to sharing and living in the same quarters.
All in all the relationship sprouted between the two of you was genuine and different from other relationships in the base.
While most of each other’s past was still relatively unknown, both of your abilities to open up about what had happened in the past faulty and fell flat more often than not. It was honestly weird just how unable you both were able to talk about your past: the mile-long stare in your eyes, the tears, the anxiety-ridden dreams. Shouto had no idea that he still screamed for his family at night before you moved in, and you had no doubt that you would wake up shrieking.
Of course, these terrors had subsided by a landslide the second you both decided to try something new out: holding hands at night had become sleeping side by side. It was definitely a weird new inclusion by both of your standards. Most mornings you woke up utterly tangled in each other’s limbs, the person who woke up first being the one in charge of detangling and denying that they had become that entangled. But hey, that’s sort of what happened when both he and you were desperately trying to deny the softly burning embers of a beginning relationship.
But how could you begin to forget that you had been integrated into the Yuuei community very quickly, and nicely at that? After Momo’s birthday, you managed to earn a spot in the girl group, most meals having them coming to find you and sit with you. That was something you appreciated especially on the days that Shouto wasn’t on base. Even the guys who had once been wary of you entering their car had accepted you wholeheartedly. Although you hated being a janitor, you had to admit it was the only job you were capable of handling at the time.
You weren’t handy with machines to be an engineer, the only first aid you knew wasn’t even good enough to land you as medical assistance, your education wasn’t anywhere near as thorough as the one implemented here, and your cooking skills were subpar. In all actuality, you longed to be a seeker, but the outdoors were still something you weren’t ready for.
Shouto and you had learned that old habits died hard, and well, until you were ready to be a team player and no longer thought about your survival and your survival only, you would remain in your janitor position.
But you found yourself climbing onto the rooftop floor with Shouto for one reason and one reason only.
Despite his lavish education growing up, he had stupidly asked you what the hell a constellation was.
While you hadn’t known that there was a difference between a meteoroid and an asteroid, you were pleasantly surprised and leagues excited at finally being an expert on something that he wasn’t. Stars and constellations had been your only guides and stories for quite a while after all.
But with Shouto’s judgmental eyes on you, and the shifting of your weight to keep warm, you tilted your head back to look up at the painted night sky.
“Not all of us are abnormally super-weirdo hot all the time,” you accused, the fur lining of the jacket pressing onto your cold lips. The jacket had been a gift from Shouto, a clothing item that had somehow survived being eaten by moths that he had presented to you on your first month anniversary of being on UA.
“That just sounds like you’re jealous,” Shouto countered, his body moving to stand next to yours. He was in a light sweater and regular clothes, you had no idea how he wasn’t cold at this point. But you chose to ignore it, your lips pouting while the both of you sank to the ground, the soft blanket beneath you doing little to cushion your head against the concrete roof. “So… which constellations are in the sky right now?”
“Andromeda, Cassiopeia, Cepheus, Cetus, Hydrus, Phoenix, Pisces, Sculptor, and Tucana,” you listed without a hitch, the names meaning nothing to Shouto but didn’t stop the impressed look on his face.
“Do they had stories behind them?” he asked, his warm breath misting in the air while you adjusted closer to his left side, your frozen hand held tightly by his warm one. He shifted his gaze back down to you, his eyes focused on your wandering ones that drank in the beautiful night sky.
“Only the best stories,” you grinned, your attention shifting over to Shouto while a glint sparked in your eye. “They’re a bit western and a lot of years old if you want to hear them?”
Shouto nodded his head. There wasn’t anything more than he would like to do except be by your side and just listen to you talk and talk, especially if that meant you would forget what you were saying or your instructional material would become a sidetracked rant that he would listen to with clear fascination and teasing intrigue.
“Okay, I guess I’ll start with Andromeda!” you nodded your head, your finger thrusting towards the masses of stars that Shouto had no ability to piece together to become the young woman who was sacrificed to the Cetus.
Still, he pretended he could see the constellation because you wouldn’t begin any tale without making sure he could point them out. But there was no denying that he was baffled and in love with every part of your stories. It really wasn’t the fact that the stories were interesting to him, as a matter of fact, Shouto was rather bored with the dramatic Greecian tales for the constellations in the sky, but it was you that made it interesting.
Even with your hand in his, your arms threw around animatedly as part of your dramatic reenactment of these tales and myths. Your passions being felt without mistake while you taught Shouto about the night sky.
No matter how passionate you were about teaching Shouto about the constellations, the cold won out, in the end, sending the both of you back into the room before you could explain the story you knew about Tucana.
“Did you learn anything new tonight?” you asked, your body curled up into the blankets of your tatami, waiting for Shouto to finish his journal to come and provide you extra warmth.
“I guess I did,” Shouto confirmed, his head nodding while he continued to scribble down his thoughts. But there was something to his tone that you found suspicious, your eyebrows narrowing when you saw the slight crease in his cheeks from the smile on his face.
“Why you smiling like that for!” you whine, your cocooned legs thrashing in your childish tantrum. “Was there something on my face the entire time?”
“There was something on your face the entire time, but it wasn’t anything embarrassing,” Shouto promised, his hands gathering his journal, light, and pencil and putting them aside before coming to lay beside you, his body pressed behind yours, his warmth already sinking through your blankets.
“That’s what you said when I had a sticker on my forehead for an entire day,” you pout, your eyes already feeling heavy with his warmth pressed against you.
“You were cute,” he admitted, his voice that was heavy with exhaustion tickling the exposed skin of your neck. He closed his eyes, allowing for sleep to consume him while he uttered his last words of the day. “I don’t care for stars and such… but if you’re gonna do stuff like that… who knows, maybe I’ll grow to love them.”
His words sank a hot stone in your stomach, and the goosebumps and butterflies that raised against your entire body refused to subside until you finally managed to fall asleep yourself, one final thought passing through your swollen bitten lips. “You can’t just stuff like that and expect me to not have feelings...”
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March was the first month of spring, and while you had survived a full winter without a taoreta attack at UA there was no denying that you felt like you had gotten away easy. The uneasy feeling in your stomach was heightened today before Shouto had left for his typical job as a seeker. You had barely managed to wake up that morning to see him off, but the moment he had left, you were unable to stay asleep, a pit of worry growing cancerously in your stomach.
You spent the rest of your morning tidying up the room, cleaning and organizing the “chaos” of the room because there wasn’t anything better you could do until on your day off.
As a matter of fact, you went on to join Mina at her checkout position today. The pink-skinned girl had recently begun to wear a horned headband which really pulled together the taoreta vibe she already gave off, but she was nice to distract yourself with while a haunted feeling gloomed over you the entire day. She had talked through your fear, pinning your anxiety on your recently admitted to affections towards Shouto and noot wanting him to be injured while on his job. You had agreed it was most likely that but even as the day continued you couldn’t tear your gaze from the entrance.
But as Mina was cleaning off a weapon that had been used yesterday she froze.
You looked up at her, your eyes studying the way that her hand pressed into the radio that was placed in her ear, relaying a message you only wished you could hear.
“How far away?!” Mina yelled into the system, her body moving to grab another radio set. “How many were hurt?!”
Just like that, a nausea heavy anxiety rocketed through your body, your limbs trembling while Mina seemed to keep her own panic under control.
“Medics,” MIna yelled into the com system, her voice projecting all over the school grounds. “Come in medics, this is Mina. Report to the main gates immediately. We have an incoming group of four hurt seekers from a taoreta attack. I repeat we have an incoming group of four hurt seekers. Three are minimal, one is critical. Ready blood type O immediately.”
Your skin crawled at that information, Shouto was the only one with blood type O going out today.
He wasn’t the critically hurt one, you thought, watching as a crowd of medics rushed to the gate, no doubt readying to take the critical patient to Recovery Girl the moment the car crashed through campus. But as the car you knew as the same one that brought you here slammed to a stop by the entrance, nausea hit you when you saw that it was Kirishima and Iida who were driving.
Three slightly bleeding friends of yours were pulled from the truck and you felt the world go silent when none of them were Shouto. The screams and shouts of medical instructions went unheard by you when you saw Shouto’s bloody, torn up body being transported onto a gurney, a bloodline immediately hooked as they ran away.
You couldn’t hear anything or see anything but the sunken dip in Shouto’s cheeks.
Was he going to live?
You weren’t even aware of your own hyperventilation until Mina shoved you onto the floor, her golden-yellow eyes wide with worry and distress for you, but her words remained deaf on your ears, unable to pierce the stress ringing in your ears.
Was he going to leave you too?
~
Shouto’s eyelids felt heavier than lead when he finally woke up.
The bright white light of the hospital room almost blinding him while he groaned. What had happened?
A fuzzy memory of running into a taoreta with savage storm powers replayed in his head. He had almost sacrificed himself to save the group, the damn monster had the strength of Hercules and slashing wind that he cut Shouto up on numerous occasions. He had sworn he had gone under multiple times, but each time it felt like there was something stopping him, keeping him from leaving.
He wouldn’t have minded leaving, there wasn’t much here, to begin with. At least not after the demise of his entire family.
“So you’re finally away, Todoroki,” a gentle withered voice intercepted his thoughts, and Shouto turned his head with a pained grimace to see Recovery Girl checking his vitals. “I’m glad to see that you’re conscious of whats going on. You’ve woken up multiple times already but would seize before passing out.”
“Am I... am I alive?” Shouto asked, his tongue feeling like sandpaper in his mouth.
A folder of papers crashed against his already throbbing head, and Shouto cursed while Recovery Girl fumed. “Just because I’m old doesn’t mean I’m kicking the bucket any time soon!”
Despite the pain, Shouto smiled softly, his head nodding in understanding.
“Besides, if you died I would have personally prayed for your soul because it looked like y/n-chan would have appeared on death’s door herself to bring you back,” she mused, her gloved finger pointing at your passed out figure on the other side of the bed.
Shouto’s eyes widened at the sight of you, something warm curling in his stomach seeing you there. But he frowned at the way your face was exhausted and thinner from the last time he had seen you.
“How long was I—?”
“A bit longer than two weeks.”
Holy shit that was a long time.
“We almost lost you a few times, but for some reason you always did better when she was holding your hand… it’s weird, but it worked — saved your life even. You owe that girl a big thank you, she’s done a lot.”
Shouto nodded numbly, his mind moving faster than he cared for while Recovery Girl finished her tendings to him before eventually leaving him alone. He had done better when you held his hand…
He looked down at his wrapped arms, now beyond grateful that they had been stockpiled on medical supplies because had they not they would have most likely decided saving him was a waste of resources. His hand moved to rest on your propped elbow, but the moment he touched your skin, your head popped up.
Shouto stared at you, and you stared back.
Bloodshot exhausted eyes meeting sullen ones, and Shouto barely had time to smile before tears sprung into your eyes.
“You almost died,” came a bitter hello, and it shocked Shouto. He hadn’t expected such a cold greeting from you. “Y-You promised you wouldn’t get hurt on these expeditions.”
You knew promises like that one were childish — it was a promise that couldn’t be kept in this society, but it was one he had still made to me.
“I promised I wouldn’t die,” Shouto countered, his hands pulling to rest on his lap, knowing that having contact with you was probably what wasn’t needed at the moment. “I didn’t, by the way.”
“You died three times while they were saving you!” you spat, angry heavy tears rolling down your cheeks. “You died and all I could do was watch! You l-lied!”
Shouto wasn’t sure how to react, on one hand he wanted to snap back at you, his own frustrations at you just not being happy to see him awake and functional made him upset because he was beyond relieved to see you here, but on the other hand, he wondered why you were so shaken at this “lie.”
“Why does it matter if I lied?” Shouto whispered, his attempt to keep his voice from showing any signs of anger passing. “It wasn’t something I did out of self-sacrifice, but because it’s what the group needed.”
You remained silent, your nostrils flaring with your uncovered emotions and thoughts, but Shouto wanted to know your thoughts, your emotions, your feelings. Despite the lengths the both of you had made in understanding each other, there was still so much hidden from both of your pasts, the thought of hurting so much more when being honest about them prohibiting the both of you from sharing.
“Y/n… come one, speak to me…”
“My parents said the exact same thing before they died,” you spoke with emotions tight in your throat. Your tongue passed your lips in an anxious matter, and you shook your head. “My group was murdered by taoreta a year before you met me. I had been sick at the time… the flu had gotten to me, so I was always left alone at our base while they all went out hunting. It was my family and twenty others… I had… I had a bad feeling the morning they died, but no one believed me because I was sick. I made them promise they’d come back alive, and they did! But while they always returned a bit after dusk, no one ever showed up.” Shouto’s stomach curled, already guessing the rest of your story, but there was no need to guess, you were finishing the tale that still haunted your life. “The next morning I was essentially fine, so I packed up my things and went to search for them. My group always left a rock trail to get back… I was going to follow the trail to find them. And I did find them… but… they were all dead. I saw my mom's torso here, my dad's head there. I couldn’t even recognize anyone's bodies, but the smell… I still smell it at night sometimes… rotting flesh and the whimpers of one of my friends who was still dying when I got there!”
The tears on your cheeks rolled down unashamedly, but your body shook with emotions, your breathing shallow and sparse, most definitely not intaking the needed amount of oxygen you needed. But with this insight, so many things made sense to Shouto. Weird personality traits of yours for the first time having reason for their rhyme.
“I don’t want to be told you’ll be okay and find you dead one day… you were dead and I thought… it felt like I was back there again! I haven’t been there since January and… god, Shouto, I can’t have you dying like that!”
His heart hurt for you, and his eyes found yours again.
“I lost my family eight years ago,” Shouto confessed, his hand stretching out for you to take, and he relaxed when you accepted his offer. “My father and oldest brother had found a group of survivors who were harboring a taoreta who was only twenty-four at the time. We didn’t know they were a taoreta, and we didn’t know that they were turning twenty-five the next day. My family brought them back to base and took them into our room because we had the largest one. I was with… I was with Midoriya, Bakugou, and Kirishima that day, the four of us had decided that we were going to camp out on the track… I didn’t get to even say goodbye to anyone. The next morning there was an explosion in the cafeteria and my family along with the surviving group and taoreta had been killed. It was… horrible… and even though it was years ago, I still feel like it was yesterday. It could have been me there with them — and I felt… I felt like for the longest time that I should have died with them…”
“Shouto,” you whispered, your tears no longer angry but so sad for the man you had fallen for. “I’m… I’m so sorry.”
Shouto smiled painfully, his shoulders shrugging while he exhaled, tears trailing down his face while a weird sense of relief washed over him. “It’s okay. It’s hard and all, but it’s comforting to know that I wasn’t the only one fucked over by a taoreta.”
Your eyes softened and a snort left your nose while you shook your head, “I think we’ve all been fucked over by them, wouldn’t you agree?”
There was an agreeing noise that passed Shouto’s lips that died as quickly as it had started when your lips pressed to the corner of his mouth, not quite a kiss, but close enough to a kiss that had skyrocketed his heart rate.
“I’m glad you’re still alive though, Shouto,” you whisper, pulling away from him, your lips forever imprinted onto his skin. “I don’t think I would be able to live in that big old room all by myself.”
Shouto cleared his throat, his eyes glinting everso mischievously, “I definitely would had stuck around to haunt you.”
He wouldn’t confess to it at this moment, but his heart definitely skipped a beat at the sight of your glowing smile, and the laugh that escaped your lips.
“I’m sure you would’ve.”
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It was raining.
The chaos of the outside world had once again found its way into Yuuei’s safezone, and everything was going to shit. You had woken up to the sound of rain, your body curled onto Shouto’s and your mind not thinking much of the pittering rain that fell from the sky. You were content in his warm embrace, just grateful to have more time with the sleeping man. It had taken him five months to fully recover from his attack, and he had just recently resumed his job as a seeker two months ago.
Right now it was December, it had been past a full year since your arrival here, and you definitely were content here.
Your relationship with Shouto has definitely become… muddied in the past few months. Kisses had been exchanged on multiple occasions, the both of you practically acting like a couple despite not having coined your relationship. Despite the both of you coming clean with your past, there was still hesitation to make things official, with both of you not wanting to hear that either one of you had died (you had become a seeker during his time of recovery just so you could get him more shower times, plus you missed scavenging in the outdoors). Secret kisses were exchanged between you like blackmarket deals, but still the hesitant riding heavy in both your bones prevented anything from happening.
But that was okay for now, as long as you were the only one Todoroki Shouto was kissing, you were okay with that. Burying your nose into his chest, you allowed for sleep to consume you into its clutches. Today was both your days off after all.
Seconds before sleep could reclaim you, a long three part bell was heard that instantly had both you and Shouto rocketing upward. A long bell was a part of the warning system, and each part meant something.
One long ring was a storm.
Two long rings was a group of survivors.
Three long rings was a taoreta.
Both you and Shouto scurried to your feet, throwing on the first set of clothes you could find, and desperately putting on your shoes while your heart hammered. You hadn’t fought a taoreta since the year before, and with the explosion outside you could only begin to imagine what this was going to mean for you all.
“Y/n!” Shouto called for you while you pulled on your jacket. You looked at him, your hands mid-pulling your hair out of your face. “Come back alive.”
You didn’t say anything, his clothes and shoes already on; ready to go out and fight. But in a kiss akin to that of your first one, he pressed his lips against yours in a heated, fervor passion. An action that spoke of desperation between two lovers who longed to see the next day, and you heard it loud and clear.
Survive.
It was an order, it was a promise.
He left before you, and you soon followed after. The weight of the future falling heavily on your shoulders, but a personal fury to survive pushing you through.
It was a long and a hard battle.
The taoreta had blade wings and mowed down everything in its path. Bodies littered the floor around you, your body in pain and sore while the taoreta lay twitching on the roof of one of the pillars of the campus building. In what was considered to be a lucky shot, you had managed to pierce a major artery of the taoreta with a gun you had taken from a fallen member and he was now bleeding out.
There were multiple cuts all over your body, the slices from the knives doing nothing but harm to your body while you collapsed on the roof, your breathing heavy and your body exhausted underneath the pittering rain. You overlooked the tower, down at the people below and gave a thumbs up, signaling he was dead.
A silent scream of victory came from the surviving members of Yuuei, no one able to actual muster a sound of victory because defeat still stung with every bleeding cut on their bodies. But this wasn’t your job anymore, a successive three short rings alerted the medics that it was their turn to work, and you hobbled down from the roof back to your room.
Your hair was plastered to your face, bloodied water dripping after you while you returned to the room, and you stood at the door unable to walk in until you saw Shouto.
It felt like you were standing there forever, your eyes focusing on the stairway in hopes of seeing the red and white haired boy emerge from a lower floor to you. And finally, finally he appeared.
There was a cut on his face, a bandaid on his chest, and you realized that he had been treated before coming up. He stared at you from the distance, both your bodies frozen with adrenaline induced joy.
But it was over just as fast, Shouto ran towards you, and there was nothing for you to do except leap into his arms, and press your lips against his. Shouto’s words of gratitude for seeing you alive were stolen from his tongue for you had reached upward in this desperate, frantic glee and kissed him firmly on the lips. His tongue curled and moved against yours, his hands moving frantically against your back in this desperate, longing kiss that exploded fire onto his cheeks and loins. But unlike the first kiss ever exchanged between the two of you he was able to move. He was able to feel the wet streaks from your cheeks pressed onto his, focusing on the heavy frantic breathing that passed through your nose while he entered the room, the door slamming closed behind him.
His lips are passionate against yours, your jaw drops and your mind spins from the intensity he was returning into the kiss. Your gasping moans stir him on as his hands grasp your ass without fear, your body melting into his grasp while he continues to strive ahead, and your hips in their glee of both being alive and knowing what is happening ground against his crotch. Your breathing is uneven, your feelings and nerves overload as you put in the same amount of intensive passion into the kiss.
“Fuck,” he groans into your mouth, allowing for your tongue to invade into his mouth while your hands manage to pull his shirt from his body, throwing it who knows where.
A low mewl escapes your mouth when your fingers trail down his rippling muscles, the curves of his muscles and the scars on his body making you shake with anticipation. While you busied yourself with memorizing his body with your hands, his hands trail down your legs, softly trailing the underside of your thighs. The sensation of his hot fingers against the wet jeans sent shivers down your spine as your hips swivel against his, a desperate attempt to feel more from him. You hummed in increasing excitement when he cursed your name, the growing bulge in his pants making you sing to the heavens.
Tongues once more crash in the middle, neither one of you entirely dominating the other in this passionate affair. Moans escape your mouth as he lowers to the ground, pressing your back against the tatami. Your fingers fisted into his hair, his hips grinding down into your heated, desperate core. Synchronized groans are exchanged in this slowly maddening exchange, his body very receptive to the hair-pulling.
His hands trailed down onto the swell of your breasts, squeezing firmly around your soft and tender flesh, and you arch into his hands. His tongue furthers into your mouth in your brief distraction, and he trails his tongue everywhere in your mouth, letting nothing go untouched until you were unable to do anything but expel hot, passionate breaths with just the slightest bit of a whine. Your increasingly satisfied moans make him chuckle. You watch with heavy lids as he pulls away, his face deliriously close to your own as you pant.
From this distance, you can see the fire burning in his eyes. A sight that makes you shiver with growing need, but the thought disappears when his mouth attaches onto your neck. His canines sink deeply into your skin catching you entirely off guard in this desperate claim, but you rewarded his actions by screaming his name, the feeling of his hot tongue soothing the burning flesh too sweet and wanton. It’s a new sensation and one that you rather liked seeing that your hips buck up against his; your body craving more friction.
His canines continue tracing against your skin, biting and marking you more and more with the increased vocal praises pouring from your lips. You wanted more, you needed more.
“Oh fuck!” you gasp while Shouto hastily removes your wet clothes from your overheating body, the cold air hitting you, but goes ignored because he presses back down against you, his mouth recapturing yours, and your nipples pebbling with his chest against yours.
The two of you are lost in the kiss, your lips pressing and pulling against the other in a desperate act, your fingers burying crescents into his skin all while your clothes still continue to be stripped from both of your bodies until theres nothing between you but a flimsy set of underwear.
Your nostrils flare as you pull away, a need for air too much for you to continue your kissing endeavors, but as he now remains in just his boxers, your breathing nearly stops while you take in his form to the maximum.
You really were fucking lucky…
“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” he teases you, and he captures your lips with his own again.
You gasp sharply at the feeling of his heated toned body pressing against your cold yet flushed skin. Your hands sliding down his muscular back were intoxicated with the way his body felt, an overwhelming need to get more from him was undeniable.
“I don’t need a picture of something that I can have every day,” you shudder as his fingers graze the pool of heat in your panties.
“Oh really? Everyday?”
“You think I — oh shit — you think I can’t?!”
You watch as he chuckles against your skin, his fingers trailing over the curves of your breast and into the valley between them before rutting his cock against the place you needed him most right now. “So you just want me for my dick? Nothing else?” he asks you, his cock rubbing against your panties applying a dizzying pressure against your pooling heat.
“I want you, all of you,” you confess, unable to even kid around with the need between your legs being as strong as it was while your hips pathetically grind into his fingers. He chuckles as he pushes your thighs up, and pulls the fabric of your panties to the side, his finger teasing your building heat.
“Such decisive words from a girl who just wanted to kiss me with no relationship in mind,” he mutters sinking two fingers into your unsuspecting heat.
The helpless and needy scream that pours from your mouth interrupts your denial makes him laugh.
“Tell me, y/n,” he says as his fingers slowly pump within you.
Slowly.
Teasingly.
“Do you want my dick in you?”
Your harsh pants keep you from speaking as Shouto increases his speed. His fingers curling within your walls stretching you out in a thigh shaking way. He doesn’t seem to care that you’re vastly affected by his intruding fingers, your body violently trembling with his curled appendages, your mind unable to form sentences because god how was he doing that with his fingers?!
“Yes, fuck, fuck, fuck, yes, oh my god Shouto!” you shriek as your hips slam against his fingers with every crashing movement.
“How about dating me? You think you’ll finally let me be your boyfriend?” he muses as his teeth come to bite against your exposed nipples, relishing in the way your head nods pathetically, so desperate for him to do moore. The neverending noises of approval expelling from your mouth only grow when his tongue flicks your nipple. Your fingers digging into his shoulders in wild approval. “Are you going to try and find someone else?”
“No! I just want you, Shouto! P-Please fuck me!” you beg as you try squirming away from his fingers. Your fingers scratching their way down his back, leaving bleeding marks on him in attempt to get him to do more to you. You watch in growing glee and excitement as he slips off your underwear, and his cock spreads completely against your dripping cunt.
A satisfied and slightly horrified moan escapes your mouth at the sight of him carding his cock between your folds. His fingers remove from your sopping wet cunt as he licks you clean from his fingers. “Maybe I’ll have some dessert later,” he wickedly grins as he slowly fists himself. “Now lay back and legs out.”
He accentuates every word, and you feel yourself heeding his command. Your hands quickly gather your thighs in your hand, and you stretch backward as you watch him draw near your spread legs. The tip of his hard cock teasing your entrance.
“Fuck me already!” you whine as he continues to only coat his cock with your juices, uncaring of both of your throbbing sexes.
He looks up at you, a smirk on his face as he shrugs.
“Sure.”
A shriek crashes through your mouth as he pushes his cock completely into your awaiting cunt without mercy. His girth stretching you out in an unimaginable way. Stretching you out in ways you were not prepared for, your back arching off the mat in your silent scream. Your walls rippled as they attempted to relax and grow used to his size. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” you cry, absurdly unprepared for his cock in you as your body trembles as Shouto leans forward.
His own head is buried within your neck, his breathing trying to reign back in.
“Shit, princess,” Shouto cockily rasps, but his words feel powerless as he is obviously affected by the tightness of you around him. “Fuck, you’re so fucking tight.”
You mewl as the painful throb in your pussy lulls and you writhe your hips against him, “Please do something, fuck me right. Please fuck me.”
Shouto smirks, small and knowing, and rightfully so as he adheres to your demand. His hips position to a better angle, his hand pressing against your thighs and you can only watch with your face buried into his neck he begins slamming into you. Your hips move in time with his.
Both of you desperate under your nearing orgasms and this heightened state of pleasure brought by the desperation of this fuck. You had both survived the attack, something that the both of you had been so scared of eventually happening given your records, but you had lived. You had lived and became insanely horny at the first sight of Shouto.
His hands gripped your hands while he pounded into you. His grip nearly cracks your hands as he slams his body faster against yours, stretching you out with every move, and by god does he know how to use his cock that dragged against your spongey puffy walls. His hands shift as they drag out under your ass, clenching your supple flesh as this difference stretches you out in unimaginable ways.
His hips crashing into yours is mind jolting, and your cries only fuel him on.
Your body feels as if it is turning into jelly as he shifts your two legs over his shoulders. His cock bottoming out into you making your back arch off the mattress as you wail out his name. Shouto’s heated fingers press against your throbbing clit. You suppress a wail as he rubs harsh and delicate figure-eights onto your puffy nerve. Your pussy is clamping down on his hammering cock, not at all slowing him down, and yet he still grunts and increases his speed and strength.
Your noises of pleasure silences as his cock hits the back of your walls, your legs thrashing around as he drilled into you the same way.
Over and over.
Again and again.
Harder and harder.
His cock smashing against your walls until he tilts his angle and crashes down hard against your g-spot.
“Shouto!!!” you scream as he continues pounding into your g-spot. His alias a prayer on your lips as he continues fucking your brains out.
You shoot up off the mattress, your screams muffled through a kiss as you wrap your arms around him. Even though your legs were on his shoulder, you held on. The angle allows Shouto to drive his cock against your g-spot over and over again. Your body bouncing with every single slam. His body is giving you exploding sensations, your tightness making Shouto moan and curse.
“I needa – fuuuuck, baby do that again – I needa come!” you squeak as your body rocks against his own.
“Come for me, princess.” Shouto sighs into your mouth. “Come around my cock.”
The built-up pleasure in your belly is profuse, it’s built up so fast, and your toes curl in electrifying pleasure. You can’t handle it anymore, the pleasure being too much.
Your orgasm slams through you, your vision nearly turning white as your jaw drops as your screams go silent. Shouto’s mouth continues to move against yours, kissing sloppily against your teeth as he chases his own orgasm. His teeth digging into your bottom lip as his jaw slacks.
His hips continue slamming into you. They’re brutal as they slam over and over again. He’s chanting your name as your stimulated cunt continues clenching around his length. His pace is making you grow numb in his arms, although your hips still continue to desperately roll against his. His breathing is heavy and tense. Panting as he struggles to keep himself composed.
“Come inside me…” You whine into his ear, desperate to feel his hot seed within you. “B-Breed me like the bitch I am, sir!” Your cry, wanting nothing more than his cock to bury all nine inches in you.
“Come for me one more time, and I’ll make sure to fill you until you’re dripping with my semen for an entire week,” Shouto promises, and his hips slam within you.
Your knees are buried within the mattress by your head, your feet curling and pressing against each other. Shouto lays on top of you, the penetration deep, and his hands gripping yours. The weight of having him on you is exhilarating, and for the first time this night, his lips press hungrily against yours while deep within you.
His cock slams against the wall of your cervix repetitively while his lips overwhelm you. Each slam into you is massive and powerful. Powerful enough to have you sobbing into his mouth while he kisses you, his hands clutching your smaller ones in his.
Again and again, he slams into you. His thrusts knock the wind out of you until you release his hands and find yourself digging your fingers into his back, crying out his name desperately while his teeth find a home on your neck, sinking into flesh he had long ago broke. The powerful pounding of his cock makes you keen, your hips jerking up to meet his, but you’re useless against his downward thrusts.
“Impregnate me, sir,” you gasp, your eyes rolling back in pleasure, “breed me! Please fill me up!”
“You’ll be full of my fucking kids in no time,” he snaps, his cock throbbing within your pussy, and loud echoing slaps fill the room. Your nails claw into his back, marking him in multiple places with clean four bloody red lines.
You couldn’t take the feeling of how his body moved perfectly within you, the strength and power behind his every move were almost too natural as if this was an everyday thing. You let out noises reasonably similar to a purr, grinding your cunt against his conquesting cock and laughing breathlessly at his low groan.
“You like this, princess?” Shouto nips at your throat, his thrusts making you shriek out his name as he buries you further into the bed, your nails digging into his flesh. “You like the way my cock fills your pussy the same way it did that pretty little ass?” You nod rapidly, your eyes closed, your mouth open, your pants tumbling from your mouth. Your sanity was lying on a string, his actions the reasons for your downfall.
His leverage was small, but every thrust seemed to have his cock being pulled out of you nearly completely. Before he drilled back into your pussy. The noises of your connecting wet sex left loud echo with your squelching pussy around his hot throbbing cock. The muscles on his back seemed to flare dramatically under your fingernails, your screams turning silent due to your approval of this.
“You like the way I fuck your pussy? The way that Imma fill you with my seed for days to come?” he growls into your ear, his hips slamming inhumanly faster into you.
“I need you to breed me,” you sob, the fire in your face as bright and hot as the one between your legs. His sweaty forehead pressed against yours, and his lips recapture yours.
Your mind goes blank when a mighty crash goes through you. But Shouto must not have noticed the clamping of your inner walls as he continues drilling his hips into you, hitting your cervix, and pushing it further up with every slam. You sob against his mouth, your nails tearing into his shoulders as the feeling of your orgasm was too strong to deny, and he only continues to fuck you.
Your scream is silent, your eyes rolling to the back of your head, your fingers digging into his neck, and your toes curl. His hips are driving, persistent, and have a goal in mind. You can barely keep up with him, your long overstimulated body wanting to collapse at the seams, but he doesn’t stop.
“Cum, sir,” you beg, your hips wildly thrashing against his. “Please, fill me with your seed!”
His cock stretches you out in a new way as he presses your back onto the mattress again. The protruding veins on his cock creating insane friction against your walls. Shouto fucks you mercilessly, his fingers clenching your ass as you come apart for him. Shouto curses loudly as he finally loses himself within you. His hips drilling forward one last time as a heavy load shoots into your throbbing cunt.
Shaky breathing fills the air as he pulls out of you.
You whine at the lack of him within you, and your body relaxes as he falls beside you. You whimper as you feel your combine cum seeping from your clenching pussy.
“Holy shit,” he breathes, his hand moving to find yours again, and you can’t say anything but nod in agreement.
“Holy shit is right,” you chuckle and his snort makes you warm inside.
“So… we’re dating now, right?” you ask softly, moving to look at Shouto’s closed eyes.
“We’re about five months late on that, but yes, yes we are.”
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You just make me happy - Oikawa x Reader
Will I ever not write Oikawa fluff? Maybe. Maybe not. The world may never know. But seriously. Yes. I am considering branching out to other characters. Maybe other fandoms. We will see where the future takes me.
Potential content warning: These is a mention of alcohol and a drunk/tipsy reader. Not the main focus, but is definitely mentioned so I have put the whole one shot under the cut.
Hope you enjoy!
Word Count: Around 1.2k
You are not drunk. Nope, nuh uh. Definitely not.
You are simply coming back from having a few drinks with friends and just needed to navigate your way to your apartment without waking up the adorable elderly couple next door. Not a problem at all. You may be a little tipsy, the bartender may have been a little generous with the pour, but you weren’t drunk. So being quiet should be no problem.
You stand at the bottom of the stairs leading to the second floor. Not. A. Problem. Glancing behind you at the elevator, you hope the sloppily written ‘out of order’ sign was a figment of your drunk--wait no--tipsy imagination. It wasn’t. You pout as you accept your fate and begin your silent ascent up the stairs.
You stumble a few steps from the end but make a smooth recovery as you grab onto the railing just in time to keep your face from meeting the edge of the steps. You haul yourself up to the landing and proudly stand back up, smiling to yourself.
Nailed it.
Now to make it down the hall and to the comfort of your apartment. The true easy part. You meander down the hall, rifling through your purse for your keys until you are standing in front of your door. Finally made it. You let out a small sigh of relief. Not that it was a concern in the first place. Never a doubt in your mind that you would make it back that evening totally unscathed.
Just as the key is about to enter the lock, it stops short as you remember that it is late. Very late. Which means your boyfriend is definitely sleeping because he definitely has practice in the morning.
No big deal though. You have made it this far being completely silent, just a little longer. You only have to make it as far as the couch. All of your focus is entirely on quietly getting the door unlocked. The softest of clicks lets you know that you have completed this task and you open the door just enough to allow your body entry as you slink into the entryway and slowly shut the door behind you. You glance around the apartment as you slide your shoes off and lay your purse down on the table. Your now stocking clad feet pad silently across the tile floor to the living room, making a beeline for your comfy couch so you could finally get some sleep.
You are so entirely focused on not making any noise that you don’t notice the figure of your boyfriend leaning against the doorway to the bedroom, watching your progress. Which means that you certainly didn’t see the soft smile on his face as he watches you run into the potted plant in the corner. You whip around with your hands out, ready to catch it from falling and he can’t hold back the low chuckle as you whisper out an apology.
“Did you seriously just apologize to the plant?”
Your head snaps up to meet his amused gaze.
“I don’t want to be rude.”
You shoot out your response immediately, insulted that he would insinuate that you would run into someone and not apologize.
“And her name is Hana…”
You mumble the last part under your breath as your fluff her leaves but if the questioning raise of Tooru’s eyebrow was anything to go by, he most certainly heard you.
“Right….” He draws the word out, not sure what else to say to that.
You continue the conversation on your own, steering the topic away from Hana.
“Should you be awake right now? What about practice in the morning?”
“Got pushed out a few more hours.” He pulls on your hand, steering you into the kitchen and away from your precious houseplant. You know what that means though. Practice starting a few hours later means a little more time with Tooru in the morning.
You let a smile take over your face as you look up at him. He looks a little stunned for a second before shaking it off and returning your smile brightly. You let him gently push you into one of the chairs around your dining room table. You rest your head on your crossed arms as you zone out watching your boyfriend gracefully move around the kitchen, collecting ingredients and a pan.
You let your eyes wander around the apartment , taking in the pictures scattered throughout the room. They detail the evolution of your relationship spanning multiple years, from your high school days to your time navigating a long distance relationship as Tooru went to pursue his dreams while you stayed behind to get your degree to now, the two of you finally reunited and living happily in Argentina.
Nostalgia hits you as you stare at one from our high school days, near the beginning of you and Tooru’s relationship. It was your first time meeting the other three third years. Not your first time ever, you did go to the same school after all and you happened to share a class with Hanamaki. No, it was your first time meeting them as Tooru’s girlfriend.
You never realized you could be so nervous about meeting people you had already met. Turns out you panicked for no reason. While there was a slight hesitancy towards you initially while they figured out your intentions, they ended up being some of your closest friends, your confidants, the three that joined forces with you to pick on your boyfriend when he turned on his dramatics.
“TADA!”
Tooru proudly sets a plate in front of you and effectively pulls you out of your reverie.
Your eyes start to water as they take in the sight in front of you. Tooru has presented you with the most beautiful grilled cheese sandwich you have ever had the pleasure to behold. It was your favorite after drink meal, made by your favorite person. You tear your eyes away from the glorious sandwich to look up at Tooru. His proud smile falls as he sees your tearful look.
“Wha--”
He is interrupted as you shoot up from your chair and throw your arms around him. He is able to steady the two of you before you both hit the ground but only just. Your hands come up to smoosh his cheeks between your palms. You are barely able to understand his mumbled request for you to explain what is happening.
You opt out of responding verbally and instead bring your lips to his cheek, then his nose, his other cheek, making sure to give his entire face an equal amount of love. Once you are satisfied with the number of kisses you have given, you sink into arms, allowing him to embrace you while you nuzzle against his chest.
“I just couldn’t help but think about how happy you make me. That’s all.”
It’s said like it is the simplest thing in the world. And for you, it is.
His dazzling smile is all you need to know that he feels the same way as he takes your hand and leads you to the dining room table for the second time that night. This time he lets you settle on his lap, resting his chin on your shoulder, as you eat the delicious meal that he has prepared for you.
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The amount of von Yipp lore we already have is absurd compared to some champions.
Here's the order of events:
#0: Yipp's bodyswapping with Mauzca
#1: Yipp using clever manipulating of supply chains and workshops in Zaun and Piltover to create his Mechsuit, "Purrsuit of Perfection"/"Catastrophe"
#2: Mechsuit defeated by unknown reasons, had to escape with the "SubPurrsible"
#3: Joined the Glorious Evolution, see card "Nyandroid"
#4: Almost died chasing after a "Hexite Crystal", got saved by Ekko and now "reeks of time anomaly" according to the science girl of Ekko's group. Augments got removed in the process?
#5: UNCLEAR: undercover as a pet in the Piltover Warden office. Artwork of "Station Archivist", but we are not sure if its truly von Yipp.
#6: Now in Bandle City apparently right in the middle of Rumble's mecha-brawl-arena chaos. Artworks "Professor von Mech" and "Smash&Dash"
At this point you can make a whole series out of it. I for one would watch it...
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Cozy library in one of their houses, LOTS of cuddles for a hurt/comfort insecure!Loki with Tony and Stephen comforting him and like reading to him while he falls asleep knowing they love him
Thank you for this lovely prompt!
I had a lot of fun writing this story, hope you’ll like it! I also posted it on Ao3: Morpheus
Surprisingly, Loki loved Midgardian fiction. More precisely fairy tales, fantasy and all stories of foreign and fantastic worlds.
He could spend hours, if not days, reading these books. Escaping through them while staying in the comfort and security of the library.
Tony has been worried in the beginning, seeing his lover isolating himself and reading until he forgot to eat or to sleep. Even though he was far more resistant than humans, Loki still needed to rest and eat. Retreating himself this deep into his own world was far from healthy.
It was Stephen who reassured Tony by reminding him how much peace and comfort Loki could find in books.
The library was Loki’s sanctuary. It always had been, to be honest. Even back on Asgard, Loki always found refuge and comfort in the middle of this comforting and almost mystical place that is a library. Books always have been his confidents and best friends in tough times. Allowing him to escape loneliness, bitterness, distress. They taught him the most precious of his knowledge : magic. They reassured him through the entirety of his life, it was no surprise that even if he now lived on Midgard he still found such comfort in reading.
Stephen, too, found comfort in reading. But, contrary to Loki, he found this comfort through learning more about magic, science or whatever subject he was currently interested in. He did read fiction and diverse other books but the real comfort to him was perfecting his craft and knowledge. He always found comfort and peace in perfecting his knowledge and skills. Books have always been a means to improve himself.
Tony realized he completely understood his lovers. After all, he too found refuge in his own sanctuary, though it was his lab and not the library. He too spent days working on his inventions, forgetting to sleep and eat. He too felt immense relief and peace working on his suit and inventions, surrounded by his tech in the familiarity and comfort of his lab.
They all found different safe places throughout the years, when they needed solitude and comfort.
That said... Maybe it was no surprise that Loki specifically loved Midgardian fiction so much. Well, of course Tony and Stephen were always astounded to see a god who saw thousands of marvelous and mysterious worlds in his life being as amazed as a child each time he read Midgardian stories. But, all these experiences he lived were certainly precisely why he loved these books so much.
There was a feeling of profound familiarity despite a cruel sense of loss and disorientation with these tales. Midgardians’ collective imagination found his roots in myths that were somewhat closely familiar to Loki, because he often knew the truths behind these myths. It was fascinating, as much as disorienting, to see how these truths had been changed into something totally different throughout the centuries. The truth had been shaped and metamorphosed through means that had nothing to see with lies or intentional manipulation. It was only the results of oral transmission and romanticization. Humans were always exploring their history through fiction. Truly fascinating. Midgardians really were amazing story tellers.
Asgardians legends never equaled the beauty of Midgard stories in Loki's opinion. Oh, for sure, there were hundreds, if not thousands, of legends narrating Aesirs' most glorious and epic fights. There was the wise and profound philosophy hidden behind poems. There were tales of love and adventures sung. But it was nowhere near what stories were in Midgard.
Stories were more to Midgardians than mere glorification of the past. Of course, their tales took their source in humans' history. But while Asgardian legends were just pleasant memories that warriors loved to tell again and again and again, for Midgardians it was something totally different that was at stake.
Transmitting their history was absolutely crucial for Midgardians, way more than for the immortal Aesirs. There was always the threat of death and of the erasing of their heritage. They always were one disaster, one tragedy, one pandemic away from the loss of an immeasurable heritage. Humans' memories and myths were not the words of rambling elders thousands of years old, there were lively and diverse stories continuously changing and transmitted.
In Loki’s eyes, it was why the Midgardians gave so much importance to telling stories. Storytellers were in a way the guardians of humanity's whole history and heritage. These fantastic and fictional worlds were more enthralling and mysterious than anything else Loki saw in his life and despite this, these stories were vibrating with infinite echoes of the past. Midgardians stories were as diverse and wildly lively as their creators. Full of dreams, of hope, of memories. It was like a cauldron for changes and evolution all the while transmitting elders’ memories and thoughts.
Loki could not help but be simply amazed. It often left him dreamy. How sweet it must be for midgardians children to be soothed with such beautiful and fantastic tales. It was nowhere near the legends of his childhood. The Aesirs always related the same stories of glorious victories, of fierce and valourous heroes and of the, oh so incredible, conquests of Asgard through the Nine Realms. The Elders always loved to narrate these same tales of war and conquests. Especially those about the Jotnar and their Realm.
Oh, how many times did he hear how the brave and mighty warriors of Asgard defeated the terrible and truly monstrous Jotnar? How many times did he hear how Odin defeated Laufey? How many times did he hear these stories of heroic war, of glorious violence, of marvelous destruction?
He always hated these stories. It wasn’t the preservation of a heritage or fantastic tales meant to inspire like in Midgard. It was just old chauvinistic warriors patting themselves and the back for war memories already narrated and heard thousands of times.
Perhaps it was bad faith. After all, war was obviously central in Asgardian culture. All the children learnt early how to fight and defend themselves and their Realm. Those not able to fight like respectable and heroic warriors were… weren’t.
It surely was not a surprise to see this theme being this preponderant in Asgard’s myths. Since the dawn of time until Ragnarok. It simply was a very long life made of glorious fights, feasts and wars.
Asgardian mentality was always about being the most powerful and brave warrior. Tactics? Cunning? Magic? Oh no! The only power was strength. Physical strength. Submitting your enemies with your sword, or your hammer, was the only true and honorable power. How could you ask for respect and consideration if you were not even able to show the strength of a true Asgardian warrior? How could you be worthy of being a warrior? How could you be worthy of being an Aesir? How could you be worthy of being an Odinson?
The answer was easy.
You could not.
And in the end, they were right. They were so right.
He never deserved to be a respected Aesir warrior nor a true Odinson for he was nothing more than a Jotunn runt after all. A weak, evil and monstrous Jotunn, one of those that Aesir parents warn their children against, when they narrate them the wondrous Asgardians legends.
He would never be worthy in the eyes of the Aesirs. In the eyes of the warriors. In the eyes of his brother. In the eyes of Odin.
A monstrous creature. Directly from Aesirs’ most known stories.
A stranger.
An imposter.
His whole life was made of lies and horrific legends. He wasn’t him, Loki. He was a Jotunn, a creature made of ice, evilness and violence, as narrated in the legends. Sometimes he couldn’t figure himself as real. Sometimes he forgot he was something else than a monster feared and hated. Sometimes he was losing grasp on reality. Sometimes he was feeling like an outsider. Observing life and reality from the exterior. Like a simpte fictional being allowing people to shape him as they wanted. Just an horrific tale and a sweet lie.
A lie as sweet as the lips that were softly kissing his forehead. As sweet at the tender hand caressing his hair. As sweet as the perfume of books, cinnamon and fire floating in the air. As sweet at a profound and soft voice he could hear.
But these sensations were nothing like lies nor fiction.
As he was reconnecting with his body and reality, he could feel more and more of those sensations coming to him. The soft warmth of the fireplace. Someone holding his hand and softly caressing the back of it with his thumb. His lovers by his sides. A whisper.
« We’re here, Lokes. We’re here, I promise you. » Another kiss. « And you’re here with us too. »
A reminder.
The other voice never stops reading. The hand in his hair doesn’t stop either.
It probably hasn’t stopped since the beginning.
But which beginning ? When did the voice start ? When did the caresses start ?
He didn’t know.
He hasn’t even been aware of being disconnected from the world. He hasn't been aware of being cuddled by his two favorite people in the world. He wasn't aware of the comfortable room he was in.
Maybe it has been hours since his lovers, worried to not have seen him in a long time, joined him and took him in a warm and loving embrace.
It felt like an eternity. Or an instant. Or just. It felt just good. Timeless. But good. Immensely good.
Stephen softly caressing his hair while he was snuggled to his side. His soft voice never stopping from reading.
Tony cuddling him softly, his eyes closed, while he was listening to Stephen's voice too.
The Cloak was carefully covering them and they were comfortably settled in the couch, surrounded by soft cushions. The room's warm colors were only adding more to the feeling of peacefulness and cozyness that Loki felt each time he was in the library and in his lovers' arms.
Anxiety, sadness and dread were already disappearing. Oh, they would come back, sure. They always did.
But for now, he was safe and loved. In the security of his sanctuary and in the comfort of his lovers’ embrace. All was well. He knew his lovers were here for him. And he knew Stephen would never stop reading and Tony would never leave his side, not until they were certain their lover was ready to leave this little bubble of peace. He could allow himself to rest now, lulled to sleep by Stephen’s voice and Tony’s soft caresses.
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Chapter 1- New World
Grian first came too to the sound of an explosion overhead. He slowly pushed himself up, looking down at the sandy beach he was now on. “What the- Where am I?” He asked, standing up and brushing sand off his clothes and shaking out his wings. He looked around the small island, and saw crafting tables and saplings galore. His eyes caught onto a sign in the center of the little island.
“Welcome to Hermitcraft Season 6!
- Scar”
“No way.” Grian covered his mouth as he looked at the sign. “I’m in a new world! Oh my god. The watchers let me go?? No they couldn’t have.” He mumbled, and jolted as the communicator on his wrist started to buzz.
Grian has joined the game
Falsesymmetry: Grian?? Who the heck is Grian??
Ijevin : I have… no idea.
Stressmonster : I can go find out!! Im really close to spawn!!
Grian looked around, and just quickly took off. His red and black wings quickly lifting him into the air as he zoomed off into a random direction. Usually he wouldn’t be so… shy. But he didn’t want to be thrown into conversations with people he really didn’t know, especially with his wings. They had been gifted to him from the Watchers, and he wasn’t sure how people outside of Evo would react to that. He felt his wrist buzz again.
Stressmonster: No one’s here. Hey Grian!! Come back to spawn! We wanna meet you!
We?? Grian turned off his communicator, flying to the top of a mountain and looking over the ocean. His eyes widened as he actually looked into it. What were those things in it? The oceans weren’t supposed to have life in them besides just blue fish. And those you couldn’t even see! He checked his inventory, only to see a piece of paper and his recording equipment. He pulled out the paper and read over it, his eyes widening.
‘Welcome to your new home, Grian.’ The paper read, and it gave a quick run down on some of the things he had never seen before. There was new mobs now, Drowned, Dolphins, Fish, and even temples and ruins! He hadn’t ever heard of the watchers being this generous. Not to him at least. They hated him. Grian yelped as he heard an explosion, looking around and seeing three people flying. He saw the wings on their back, and his eyes widened, but for some stupid reason he quickly flew underwater. He looked around this underwater landscape, and he grinned as he saw what the paper had called a shipwreck. He swam over to it to investigate.
Grian quickly swam into the ship, cautious of his air. He found a chest and pulled it open, grinning at the iron and lapis it held. He quickly swam back up, putting the valuables in his inventory before suddenly taking damage. He yelped, looking around and seeing the Drowned mob the paper warned him about, quickly swimming to shore. He scrambled up the mountain, watching tridents being hurled at him. He laughed excitedly.
“Oh my god. I can’t believe this! This. This is going to be awesome!!” He looked around the world, at the block generation. “Okay. Okay. Don’t get too over your head here.” Grian ran a hand through his hair, but he couldn’t stop the excited smile that pulled over his face. “Grian. You need to collect resources. Wool, wood, and weapons. You have to start mining.”
“Ah i see. Another guy who talks to himself.” Grian screamed and fell back into the ocean, gagging as salty water filled his mouth. “Oh heavens-!” He heard, before he was being pulled out of the ocean by a man with a glorious mustache. Grian quickly took in the mans appearance. Black hair and pale skin, wearing a suit, with gorgeous iridescent wings keeping them in the air. “Seems like the drowned are proper after you mate.” He flew them back on top of the small mountain. “So, You must be Grian then right?” He asked. Grian let out the breath he didn’t know he was holding.
“Yea! That's me, Grian!” He smiled, holding out a hand to him. The man in front of him chuckled.
“I’m Mumbo, nice to meet you. False and Stress and real curious about you mate.” He smiled still, the expression nothing but warm and welcoming, “We should message the rest of the Hermits, tell them about you.” He said, more to himself than anything as he pulled up his communicator screen.
Mumbo: Found him, He’s one of us.
Docm77: One of us!
Falsesymmetry: One of us!
Stressmonster: One of us!
“Oh dear.” He sighed, looking up at Grian who was just curiously looking at everything. “Your… not used to this stuff aren’t you?” He asked. Grian nodded.
“Yea, the world i was in is still in 1.7.” He said, Mumbo’s eyes widened.
“This is 1.14!” He said, and Grian laughed.
“No.”
“Yea.” Mumbo grinned, and looked him over. “We need to call a Hermit meeting. You comfortable with that? All the hermits are just like us. I promise.” Mumbo smiled again, and Grian couldn’t help but say yes to him. He shook out his wings, drying them off as the two took flight. Mumbo started typing again as they flew. “We just started this world, your in luck! Hermitcraft is a thing we came up with. Its essentially a group of misfits, we all make videos of our travels and post them. A lot of people really like what we do.” Mumbo said, his voice oozing with pride.
“Oh really? I do videos too! This seems like fun!” He said, listening as Mumbo described the sections this world was in, explaining that they’d be different building styles and whatnot. Grian couldn’t help the surge of excitement that flowed through his finger tips. He was a builder at heart after all, and he was over the moon in learning all this. They were just flying to the shopping district. A few buildings were already in the works, and Grian felt a surge of energy he just hadn’t had in Evo. This was all new, exciting. And he was going to have so much fun.
Grian watched as others quickly flew towards them, each and every one of them having wings. It filled his heart with relief. He wasn’t an odd one out anymore. Of course, there was someone carrying another person. Grian frowned in concern, seeing her wings were rotting and thus unable to fly.
“So Mumbo! This is the new guy?” He turned at hearing a heavily accented voice, seeing a larger man with a beard, and a visor over his eye. His wings were large and a darker brown, and yet seemed incredibly fluffy.
“Hey! I’m Grian.” He introduced.
“I’m Iskall! Nice to meet you! Your wings are amazing by the way.” He said, and Grian couldn’t help the flush that came onto his face. He wasn’t quite used to being complimented.
“You too!” He beamed. He turned as the others gathered, seeing many faces and many wings.
“How did you even get here?” A women asked. Grian looked at her. She was the one with the rotting wings. Her skin was a blue-ish gray, patched together. She looked like a zombie, the only thing bright about her was her bright orange hair.
“Uhh nice to meet you too?” Grian’s smile turned nervous as he looked the women up and down.
“Oh! My bad! I’m Cleo, Zombie Cleo!” She smiled, and Grian nodded a bit. The others introduced themselves, Grian trying to memorize names to faces. But he knew it was a fruitless endeavor.
“So mate, how did you get here?” Mumbo asked, sitting down on a rock as the others just sat on the ground.
“Yea!! Story time!!” Scar grinned as he plopped down next to Cub. Grian chuckled.
“Well. I was in my old world, we called it Evolution, or Evo for short. I was building my little town of farms and whatnot, and i heard a void. I saw this obsidian piller and thought if was the Watchers, who kind of overlook our world and make sure we’re ‘playing nice’ or whatever. I followed the pillars and the voice, when i got to this boarder wall or whatever. Sooo I… Blew it up. And walked through. Next thing I know, I wake up on your spawn island.” Grian explained calmly. He looked at the others, some who already had diamond armor. But why was it glowing like that?
“You said your world was stuck in 1.7 right?” Mumbo asked and Grian nodded, earning a few gasps from the others.
“Oh lord I’d hate being stuck in that! No beacons? No efficacy five? Awful.” Iskall sighed, and Grian stared at him.
“Wait wait what?” He asked, and a few of the Hermits jumped up, eager to brag about their loot. Grian was shown tridents, told what enchantments were, beacons, everything. His eyes were wide as he listened to everything, Doc even handing him a trident and saying to try and throw it.
Grian quickly took that opportunity, aiming high and throwing hard. Doc whistled lowly as he watched it fly. “Damn, good arm Grian.” He said, his lips pulling into an amused smile. He took off to go find it, and Grian watched the mechanical wing the man had seemingly built himself. Grian yelled a thanks at him as he flew off, and the other hermits were kind of dispersing. But a blonde women- he had learned that was Falsesymmetry-walked up to him, smiling.
“So Grian! It’s nice to finally have a new guy on the server! If you ever want a healthy match of PVP, feel free to message the queen of hearts and body parts.” He grinned with a laugh, taking off. Her wings were sleek, and yet seemed robust. The others said their goodbyes, a few giving Grian some basic starter materials of food, and some iron gear.
Grian looked over at Mumbo and Iskall, that last two standing there with him. The two smiled. “And if you want some redstone help, just give us a call! And feel free to drop by anytime. Okay?” Mumbo said, and Grian nodded.
“Yea man! Thanks!” He smiled, and the two took off. Grian quickly rushed to get resources, having already formulated a plan in his mind.
___
Grian’s plan… lead him to die many times by Drowned, thankfully he had built a little platform over the water with a bed to respawn in, but it was done. He had made a shipwreck in a bottle! And frankly, he was quite proud of himself. Grian had recorded the whole thing, even going back to the spawn so he could explain in a video what was going on. He swam into his starterbase, already planning on a megabase for this futuristic district.
He had dumped resources into his many chests, trying half hazardly to be organized with everything. But deep down he knew it would end up just like Evo; with chest monsters everywhere. He glanced down to his communicator, starting to type. He needed to figure out what the hell a conduit actually did, and had a plan to build one, but he needed a little bit of help. And one of the only people who were online were Xisuma. He sent him a quick message, going down to his farms and just collecting more food and eggs (those he was saving for Mumbo later).
Xisumavoid: Yea sure i can help you out! Just come on over.
Grian had quickly learned who his neighbors were. Mumbo, Biffa, Scar, and Xisuma. He rushed over to Mumbo’s base via the strip mine, that being the easiest way to get onto land to fly. As he ran, his mind briefly went to Taurtis. To Netty and the others. Did they miss him? Did they even realize he was gone?
“Probably not.” Grian thought to himself, climbing up the stairs and shaking off his wings before taking off. He’d be the first to admit he was happy to be here. He could fly around without feeling like he was cheating, or that others were mad at him. The people in this world were so nice and accepting, they loved talking to one another and cracking jokes. This was the kind of environment his personality type thrived in. Fun, fast, and chaotic situations that one needed to adapt too quickly. In fact, that gave him an idea for a game they could all play.
He landed at Xisuma’s base, looking around at how organized everything seemed. Especially in comparison to his own base. But it didn’t really matter to him. He was having fun again, meeting new people and starting on new adventures. Surely the Evo gang wouldn’t mind him being gone if it meant he was having the time of his life. Right?
---
Grian finished recording, sighing as he just uploaded the footage onto his communicator to edit later. For now, Mumbo invited him over to relax for a bit (and probably to gloat about his base) and he wasn’t about to say no to something like that. He took off from his small cobblestone platform and flew the few hundred yards over to Mumbos base. He saw the raven haired man sitting on top of the structure, and he quickly landed next to him.
“Hey Mumbo!” Grian smiled, plopping down and rubbing his neck. His throat was starting to hurt again, and he had been thinking that he might have been too loud in his recording. His throat was murdering him.
“Hey Grian, you doin alright?”
“Oh yea! My throats just been a little sore for the past few days.” Grian smiled, leaning back and looking over the ocean. “But what’s up?”
“Nothing really.” Mumbo said, his voice trailing off and into a bit of an awkward silence, before the redstoner exploded, “Whatarethewatchers-?” He asked quickly, and Grian was slightly taken aback.
“What?” He laughed a bit, coughing into his arm.
“When you first came here a couple of weeks ago, you said you thought this was the fault of ‘the Watchers’. What exactly are they?” Mumbo asked, reaching into his inventory and pulling out a bottle of water, handing it to the other.
“Well… It’s a little bit of a long story.”
“We’ve got all the time in the world, mate.”
#Hermitcraft#Hermitcraft fanfic#Grian#Grian hermitcraft#Season 6#fanfiction#i forgot this blog existed#mumbo jumbo#grian x mumbo#Hermitshipping#Writing#Minecraft fanfiction#Cleo#Docm77#Stressmonster101#Goodtimewithscar
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Hi. We’re doing this again. I’ve already spoken a little bit (well, a great bit) about how old lore Viktor wasn’t a stereotypical evil villain, but I keep seeing this interesting trend crop up - especially in the comments of analyses on Viktor’s character - and so I’m going to write about it. That trend is the fact that people seem completely and utterly convinced that only old Viktor “augmented without consent” or “didn’t respect free will” or similar mad-scientist-adjacent claims. This isn't true. The inverse is true, actually.
What follows is the entirety of Viktor’s old lore (I’m using the first - the second variant is the one that snips out his going to the Institute of War, I’m not trying to pull a trick on you or anything), his lines upon release (which are still technically canonical, even if many people believe them to be outdated - whether that is due to Riot still believing that they’re accurate to his character or, more likely, Riot not caring to replace them, I don’t know), and the accompanying blurb to his release comic. I am also including Jayce’s second lore, the one which Riot wrote after Viktor fans pointed out that Jayce’s original lore was contradictory to Viktor’s character. (Which is mentioned in the post I linked above. TL;DR: Viktor fans made such a fuss that Jayce’s lore got changed to paint Viktor as less of a villain, which again points to the fact that old Viktor wasn’t necessarily perceived as villainous by his fans. Of course, fan perceptions can be wrong - but canon was changed, so...)
This screenshot is missing his pick/ban quotes (“Join the Glorious Evolution.”/”Inferior constructs.” - ban quotes were added after his release, so they recycled one of his attack lines) and the quotes for Chaos Storm (“Obliterate!”/”Consume!”/”True power!”/”Behold!”). This is because it didn’t fit on my computer screen nicely.
This was written alongside Viktor’s teaser comic. (I personally really like the teaser comic, even though I’m concerned about Viktor cutting a hole in his laboratory wall.) It is, technically, non-canon material as it was posted on the now-defunct forums rather than anywhere on the client, but as we’ve seen a recent trend of Rioters Word-of-God’ing facts about canon, I may as well include it. There may be more Word-of-God confirmations on those forums as well, but the backup site that they’re currently hosted on doesn’t allow for searches as the original site didn’t either. You can find this on the “Development” tab of Viktor’s wiki page, if you’re curious.
Is there anything in here, besides “Submit to my designs.” and a few other of his voice lines, which should be taken with the context that they were a) written in 2011 and are thus not the highest examples of character-focused writing and b) written under the context of these being things he is saying to opponents on a battlefield, that says “Viktor augments people who are unwilling”? I don’t see it. He isn’t an angel, sure, because he wrecks Jayce’s lab after the man doesn’t want to work with him, but… He’s mostly alright, at least when it comes to the claims I’m investigating. (Also, note that his acolytes are not specified as being under his control or anything like that - they very well may just be people he’s helped, who don’t want a strange man smashing up the lab they were helped in.)
An interesting side-note: Jayce’s first lore does seem to imply that Viktor murdered people, as he “staged a deadly raid on Jayce’s laboratory”. This is concerning. There’s still somewhat of that implication in the second lore, considering the whole “incinerating the lab’s meager security force” line, but I’ve never seen anyone in fandom over the years use that as evidence for Viktor being a murderer, which is interesting. There’s actual textual evidence you can point to to say that Viktor’s a morally awful dude, and yet no one pointed to it when it was canon...I’ve never seen it cited in any character analyses for Viktor, nor have I ever seen anyone make the point that it’s people that Viktor’s incinerating. Food for thought, I guess. Anyways, my personal take is this: it’s security systems, not people. It doesn’t quite make sense, in-universe, for Viktor to murder a bunch of redshirt security guards but only blast Jayce aside - and leave him with no lasting injuries, obviously. Out-of-universe, you can say that it’s because Jayce is a champion, but still… It really doesn’t fit. Of course, I’m an old lore Viktor fan and this is entirely me trying to justify that he’s not a bad guy, so you can definitely take my words as biased. As we’ll see later, even if you take this as proof that old Viktor’s a killer, it doesn’t mean new Viktor is morally spotless.
Also, if you speak a language other than English and want to kill time, feel free to write in with what Jayce’s old lore says he did if you can find a translation of it. (If you go to the League wiki you can find other language versions of it, and from there you can poke around on Jayce’s page to see if it even has his older lore at all.) The Polish version apparently doesn’t imply people, but the Russian version uses “guards”... or so I think, my knowledge of Russian is pretty small so it was me and Wiktionary against the world. I think that League lore translations, especially from 2011, aren’t exactly the best material for textual evidence, but it’s an interesting curiosity. (I’m genuinely fascinated on how this was never a point of argument, and also to the fact that it was made much more ambiguous in Jayce’s post-outcry lore… but not removed.)
Anyways. Of course, you can take his lines and general character to a logical endpoint and say that it is implied that he doesn’t care much about whether or not people consent to the Glorious Evolution, but at that point you’re arguing interpretation and need to say as such. The cases I’ve seen in which people say that old lore Viktor was lopping people’s limbs off without consent or what-have-you just say that, without citing any textual evidence or saying that it is possibly implied by his character and lines. It’s pretty hard to take those claims seriously when there’s much more textual evidence that current-canon Viktor doesn’t seem too keen on respecting autonomy. Let’s begin with his own lore, which is written to favor his perspective.
Please keep in mind that this Viktor got his start selling automative technology to businesses in Zaun. The Zaun that is full of corrupt chem-barons. But let’s give him the benefit of the doubt and say that he only sold to good businesses. (Also, fascinating that a common complaint about old Viktor is that his status as a pioneer of his field is that he’s “unrealistically accomplished”, and that other people would have figured out the same technology - just as it seems to be the case in current lore, with the Church of the Glorious Evolved existing pre-Viktor (except that it probably didn’t at the time of this lore’s release, as there’s a paragraph later on in his lore that talks about a “quasi-religious cult” that is unnamed but… Who else would it be?) and augmentations being common on the NPCs on the Universe page. Yet someone who’s 19 having their inventions be commonly used in Zaun long enough for the term eventually to be used in reference to the next stage of their life is perfectly acceptable. Anyways…)
What we see from this is clear: even if there is a “good” reason to control the divers, there is no mention of them consenting to the procedure. Considering the previous quotation, Viktor seems to deal more with the bosses than the workers and doesn’t seem to consider the potential job-removing impacts of his work (how many people lost jobs due to being rendered obsolete?), which doesn’t bode well for him caring much about what the workers think. But of course, this aside about dealing with bosses is all interpretation, so you can ignore it if you’d like. There still is, however, actual, textual evidence that new Viktor does not care about consent if he believes his idea is what’s best for you.
Ignoring the writer misusing the term “psychotics” - par for the course in fiction unfortunately - here’s Viktor kidnapping people “for their own good”. Nothing is said in his lore if he’s contracted to do this, or if he’s just Zaun’s version of a Good Samaritan out and about chloroforming people. While I’m not saying that the moral choice is to not intervene, he is drugging people here and performing brain surgery on them. Please note the “in a manner of speaking”. What does that mean? Is it in reference to them having permanent brain damage? Or is it in reference to him being all well-and-ready to transfer their bodies into robots that presumably weren’t designed for them? (Speaking of, if Viktor can transfer the consciousnesses - or at least brains - of people… why is he still in a fleshy mortal body? Yes, it would require a VU to update him to be fully robotic, but none of his written media seems to imply that he’s on his way. His color story has him integrating technology directly into his arm, for example. Why aren’t you getting into the robot, Viktor?)
Anyways, two options here: either the automatons had enough of their former programming to react to Viktor giving a kill command, or the consciousnesses of the people Viktor is “saving” are in these robots and are under his sway enough to commit murder. Either is bad (and negates any moral superiority over old Viktor’s maybe-implied-canonical-murder), but the second is horrifying. And, obviously, non-consensual. (Because the damage is reversing, I don’t believe there’s room for a justification of the second option in which these people are still violent and dangerous.)
Anyways, last bit. It’s pretty bad when your ethics are panned in Zaun, the nation host to rampart corruption and also people like Singed. Let’s now move on to his color story, which is what a lot of fans point to as evidence for new Viktor having a heart or a moral compass.
Yay! Moral win: your cyborg isn’t cutting off the head of a child without his consent. (Also, again, is this proof that Viktor can put brains or consciousnesses in robot bodies? Admittedly, he might be joking since this Viktor is a little softer than he is in his biography.)
Moral… win… your cyborg is augmenting a child… Anyways, joking aside, this is unethical. How’s Naph supposed to consent to something like this? I know that we can’t expect fictional characters in a fantasy setting to abide by modern ethical standards, but I think we can critique them from an out-of-universe context. This is bad. Viktor gives very little context, could very well be lying (he isn’t, hopefully), and sends the kid off with his version of a pat on the back and tells him to come back if he wants more. (The “Oh yes” is also… creepy.) A kid’s decision-making abilities aren’t developed to the extent that they can be reasonably expected to understand or consent to a procedure that removes a pretty crucial emotion. If Naph comes back and wants his fear gone permanently, will Viktor oblige?
Also, fear is something that is very important to survival and judgment calls. Without fear, a kid in Zaun might take dangerous risks that could end up with them dead. I can’t really see how people interpret this as a morally sound decision - Viktor’s pretty much giving mood-altering drugs to a child and telling him to come back if he wants another hit. Just because he got Naph’s okay doesn’t mean that he got informed consent.
Let’s now turn to the black sheep of Viktor content: his Legends of Runeterra lines. There’s two of interest.
Armed Gearhead’s card art is of a man whose only augmentation is his arm, which he says he broke in another line. (I suppose he didn’t want to wait for it to heal?)
Viktor is talking about messing with his head, here, because Armed Gearhead is… too emotive, I’d guess. He is “not yet complete”. A statement which Armed Gearhead seems rather apprehensive about, if you listen to his response.
I know that LoR Viktor is one of the more “comically villainous” depictions of Viktor we’ve seen, so if new Viktor fans would like to ignore his lines I have no issue with that. But these lines certainly seem to imply that what Viktor sees as Armed Gearhead’s end state isn’t necessarily what he sees as his, and should be considered if people want to take them as canonical.
Not necessarily needed, but here’s Jayce’s present lore. One of them is definitely lying - Jayce’s lore says that he doesn’t strike until after Viktor gives the kill order, and Viktor’s says that he gave the kill order in response to Jayce smashing up the lab. Either way, Viktor is ordering automatons (that, in this version, are outright stated to be housing the brains of the people Viktor is trying to keep alive) to kill Jayce. Not a good look.
Viktor’s new lore gives significant textual evidence that he doesn’t care for whether others willingly consent to his ideas, so long as he believes that his ideas are for the greater good. This is in contrast to the vagueness of his original lore, meaning that any individual who speaks about how current Viktor is someone who cares for consent in contrast to the “unethical mad scientist”ness of old Viktor is unfortunately mistaken. I have to imagine that general fandom interpretation, combined with the fact that his bio and color story are very tonally different, have made it so people believe that this version of Viktor is much more ethical than he canonically is.
Interpreting Viktor as sympathetic and actually morally grey is fine, of course! Riot wrote his narrative very poorly when he was updated, which is why I’m still finding bones to pick with it in comparison to his original and more open-to-interpretation lore. The issue is stating that this is canonically the case, which it isn’t, and/or stating that the current iteration of Viktor has the moral high ground over his previous incarnation, which he doesn’t. I think that much more interesting character conversations can happen if people acknowledge that Viktor as he’s currently written is roundly unethical - how can that be improved upon for a more complex character, does that mean that Jayce’s behavior was right, etc. For all my dislike of new Viktor, I’d be genuinely curious to read a take that actively acknowledges his pre-college work in automation and how that affects his standing in Piltover and Zaun. (Is he well-known in industry? What do workers think about him? And so on…) And, well, on a personal note: I think that acknowledging current Viktor’s moral failings would be nice, because it would mean that people would stop using old Viktor as a strawman.
Anyways, I suppose that’s the post. Thank you for reading!
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Glorious, Before the Burden - The Comfort ~ 8
“I have your sweets, my sweet,” Loki was spoiling me, the dawn hadn’t truly crested, but I was awake and so was the little one inside of me.
Instead of ordering someone to go to the kitchens for my craving for cool and sweet treats, he’d gone on his own, cloaked in Odin’s likeness and coming back with a flourish that had my head shaking where I was propped up on the far more decadent bed. Crawling up to join me, the illusion dropping as he rose, as his lips kissed a path along my bare body - as I grew heavier with our child, my warmth grew hotter as well - and the chill of his skin was as welcome as what he’d brought in the bowl he held in one hand.
My bump was more rounded, making me more unwieldy and I felt as ungraceful as a barge I’d seen bumping and bobbing against the dock while I lived alongside Michael in the village on Midgard. Loki propped the bowl on the top of this bulge, the home of our little one, and let his hand curl around the bottom curve of it - cooling some of the heat that gave me the most trouble.
“How are we feeling, Mum?” His lips touched just beneath the bowl and I laughed. “You laugh, but you have to get used to hearing it, Sigyn, for that’s what our little prince or princess will be calling you.”
“Mum?” An arched eyebrow met him full on when he looked up. “And you say I spent too much time among the mortals,” reaching into the bowl, I sighed when I felt the cool pleasure of a frozen grape. Thank GOD they kept them on hand, once I found something that would suit my need for sweetness and cold. Biting into the first one, my eyes flickered shut, between the bite of the chill and the natural sugary tartness, it was perfection and the small nudges our tiny one was making would seem to say they agreed.
“They do like those grapes, don’t they?” Loki whispered, his voice awed by each new revelation - or not new, he was amazed by the new life within me. That we were going to be parents, that our baby was growing inside of me, healthy and safe, it was something that brought out a side of him that I wished everyone could see - in all the realms. “Sigyn, I saw the foot - all of the tiny little toes.” His fingertip traced where I could feel the press of it. “It’s perfect.” His lips weren’t far behind, kissing where the nudge had been. “Your father adores you,” he murmured, softly and sure. “And so does your mother. You are wanted and loved.” My fingers slid through his hair, as my other hand focused on my grapes.
Loki was adamant that we remind our child that they were not a bargaining chip, a relic, a souvenir, or simply an heir. He wanted our child - or children - to know that they were loved for themselves, whomever they were or became. That we wanted them from the very moment we became aware of their existence and that they were perfect.
At first, I felt a pinching pain piercing my heart - that he felt so deeply his own loss and that his own parents had somehow failed, even if Frigga had tried so desperately to instill those very ideals in HIM, that he handed this down as if it were an edict to be carried out. Yet, watching him grow into it, naturally and seeing how every change my body made - every evolution that the baby’s growth made - astounded him and made him more excited. I knew he was scared of repeating Odin’s failures, or worse still his birth father’s. And because of that, he was focused on NOT doing either - and I knew he wouldn’t. Loki would be a wonderful father, because he lacked one.
“Feeling better, Sigyn?” My grapes were nearly finished, and I was feeling VERY much better. Smiling down at him, where he was happily cradling our child’s current home, I nodded. “I am your servant, my love, at your beck and call to make you feel decadent while we await our -”
He disappeared, and so did our room - the bowl, my bump -
I was in a dark cave. Heat poured over me as fire and heat seemed to surround me. A deep voice and Thor suspended in the center by chains. Taunting and warning - Odin no longer ruling Asgard - and a new word, something that sent a chill down my spine that was chased by a rush of sweat so hot that I feared a burning scar -
Ragnarok.
“SIGYN!” Loki’s voice, charged and fearful, as I shivered and felt as if I’d been doused in fire and then tossed in a flood of ice water. “Sigyn, darling can you hear me?” His hands were cupping my face, and I fought to open my eyes, knowing that he’d calm down if he could see my eyes, but having some trouble with the chore. “Please, please wake up.” Pleading and begging, I fought harder, hearing his voice almost break, nearly broke me.
Blinking, against the pain - my head felt as if I’d struck it against the rocks in the dark cave I’d seen Thor inside - I opened my eyes and there his blue ones were, waiting for me, just as I expected him. The rush of vomit, the sick coming rushing up fast and furious, I pushed him away and rolled over, just missing the bed and hitting the floor with a horrible splash - all the grapes and perhaps everything I’d eaten over the course of two days covered the marble. His fingers were sliding down my back, the cold of the chill picking up a touch and I was thankful that he was allowing more of his true nature to break through - if only because it was helping me cool down faster.
“Please,” he was begging, but I wasn’t certain he was speaking to me. Perhaps he was praying to some higher being. “Sigyn, darling?”
Empty, or empty enough, I rolled over, eyes shutting for a moment to gather my thoughts and hopefully hold down anything else that might choose to make a mad dash to reappear from my stomach. Sighing, I opened my eyes, and found him hovering over me, his hands close, but not touching me - until I took one in my own hand and pressed it to my sweat coated cheek.
“Are you unwell?” He was frightened, and I wasn’t surprised. None of my visions had been like this, not nearly as bad and not nearly as paralyzing. Gasping and trying to calm myself, I shook my head. “You are shaking like - You just emptied your stomach across the flagstones, Sigyn, how is that not being unwell?” He wanted to call for healers, or rush me to the healing chambers, but I shook my head and sighed again.
“I saw something,” Loki’s hand, the one I was holding to my cheek, grew cooler and I smiled. “Thank you, that feels better.” His eyes softened and I stared up at him. “I saw Thor,” he went still and waited. “He was in a cave, in another realm - not Midgard, and the being there was telling him that Odin no longer rules here.” He started to curse his luck, but I stopped him by going on, “and then he warned about Ragnarok.”
“Ragnarok?” He looked as confused as I felt. “It’s a myth.”
“Then why did I have a vision about it?” Our free hands fell to the curve of my stomach, fingers linking and holding tight. “Thor is coming home, Loki. How do we explain THIS?”
My darling husband, the real one, not the Odin faced one - thought long and hard about how we could EXPLAIN his brother’s widow marrying his FATHER. And while he considered the options, I had more visions, and none of them were filled with sunshine and light.
Darkness, death, destruction - coming ever closer and reigning terror on Asgard - destroying all that Loki had rebuilt. The peace, the quiet, and yes, even the boastful nonsense washed away and in its place? Horror and terror.
While Loki, as Odin, continued to show a happy and careful facade, I spent more and more time alone in our rooms - he could be in more than one place, I hasten to add, lest anyone think he would forsake me after so long apart and in my more fragile state. No, while he revelled with our people - during epic showings of the Ballad of Loki or whatever that terrible play that the overpaid theater troupe had come up with called it - while Odin lounged about with sighing and simpering ladies of the court feeding him grapes and fanning him, Loki sat with me or paced as I tried desperately to make some sense of what I was seeing.
“You cannot make out WHO is behind it?” He would plead, hoping that I could brush away the shadows, forcing past the barrier that stood between me and the full image, but no - there was something in the way. Some block that refused to bend to my will. Shaking my head, he’d sigh, but kiss my temple and hold me tight. “We’ll get through this, my love, we will.” And then we’d try a different tact, how long until Thor arrived.
Not long, that’s how long - I was alone for once. Taking a bath and soaking because I felt I had earned it with all the worry and fear, not to mention the extra weight I bore, not only from my burdens, but from our future child. Leaning against the back of the tub, letting my mind drift, I felt it. The shift, the arrival and I sighed. Damn it.
I was dressed and flanked by my guards, stalking to the scene of the worst crime in Asgardian history - that damn play - when I saw that it had finally happened. Loki’s illusion had been removed, his true image seen by all - and Thor facing him and demanding the location of Odin.
“STOP,” my voice, unexpected and louder than any was used to hearing it, brought all to a halt. “STOP,” the bodies parted and I was let through the empty path, my guards still flanking me, unsure I was certain of the current state of things, but - in absence of Odin, I was technically Queen regardless. “Thor,” greeting my brother by marriage, I smiled up at his glaring face. “Welcome home.” He was staring at me as though he wasn’t entirely sure how to address me, or what my part in the madness was. “You wish to speak to the Allfather?” The jerk of his head would have to do for an answer. “Fine,” a glance at my husband and I looked around our gathering of subjects. “All of you should know,” their eyes were on me, on my bearing and on the heavy carriage of my pregnancy. “I was with Odin and Loki on the day he chose to retire to Midgard,” eyes widened and mouths dropped open. “A MUTUAL agreement,” as I spoke they looked about themselves, and I knew their thoughts, while Loki wasn’t known for his honesty, I WAS. “Odin knew that you - NONE of you, would EVER accept Loki as rightful King - And Thor,” my eyes met my brother’s, “didn’t want the throne,” his choice came after, but that was a detail best left to the winds of time. “Now, while Thor and Loki go to see the Allfather, I will remain behind.”
Loki started to argue, but Thor held up a hand and I shook my head. “Peace, Brother,” Thor entoned, his eyes on me. “Your wife has given us a plan, and if Heimdall’s replacement can be trusted to take a relic to the vault?” I nodded, and he smiled at me. “You and I can be off, and back before she misses you.”
“Hardly,” rolling my eyes, I turned to Loki. “Go,” he pulled me close and shook his own head. “You need to do this, so we can have true peace.” His hands went to our bump, but his forehead was against mine. “I love you.”
“And I you, Sigyn.” His eyes stayed locked on mine, even as his lips brushed against my own. “I will be back.”
“I know.” My smile was soft and I tried to feel confident, even as they both turned to go. Yet I was being left behind with our people who had been deceived - in part by my own self.
I agreed with Thor in the replacement of Skurge - Volstagg and Fandral were far more competent and were more than willing to aid me in my current time of need. Sif, coming to my side, asked if I’d rather be in my rooms or -
“Don’t force me to watch this abominable play,” I pleaded, and she grinned. “Inside would be lovely, thank you.” She took my right and nodded to one of my pair of guards, who asked the other to bring up the rear. “Do I honestly need three guards now?” I asked, and she laughed.
“Yes, my queen, you do.” Sighing, I walked inside. Hopefully Thor and Loki could make their peace with Odin and we could move past this - and find the source of the darkness, head off Ragnarok before it could take root.
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A/N: I’m having fun writing this. Part 3 of the @marveltrumpshate fic I wrote for @wombatking
Summary: There was something luxurious about waking up at 7:30am, to an empty room, with an empty bathroom, and the kitchen all to herself. Kitty hit the jackpot.
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There was something luxurious about waking up at 7:30am. Absolutely luxurious. Kitty wanted nothing more than to sprawl over her bed, languidly stretching before she finally rolled off. Unfortunately, her right leg was a dead weight to all of this, so she had to settle for lazily yawning and spreading her arms above her. The birds had been awake for hours, her dormmates equally so, and she had the most glorious sleep. She hadn’t even noticed when Rogue had left for training, her roommate for once not waking her up with her extensive morning prep.
For a girl who claimed that she didn’t care what others thought of her, she spent an awfully long time in front of the mirror. Kitty chuckled at the thought. Rogue was full of strange contradictions and the more she learned, the more she liked. It was strange to think that at one point they’d fought like cats and dogs.
Well, if Kitty were honest, they still fought sometimes now, but they always made up after.
It was harder than she expected, to get off the bed. Her leg felt weird, her movements even more so—her legs didn’t feel in sync, her left far too light and quick, her right too slow and heavy. Walking was a strange hop and dance. Dressing even more so. She half-wished she had Velcro pants, like the ones Spike used for his stupid “my pants ripped off!” joke. The only problem was that they were ugly. On the bright side, she was more than used to putting a little pain in for her fashion.
As she passed by a window, she caught sight of Jean and Amara running through the obstacle course, sweaty and tired. “Glad that’s not me,” she murmured, grinning as she stepped into the for-once-empty bathroom.
She’d been wrong. The best part of her broken leg wasn’t sleeping in, it was the fact that there was no rush. No one knocked on the door, asking her to get out. Kitty didn’t have to bounce impatiently on her feet, waiting for the door to open so she could rush in. Nope, the bathroom was all hers, for however long she wanted.
So was the kitchen, so was the tv—if she’d realized how good it was, she’d have broken her leg ages ago. Maybe in six weeks she could break the other one. Chewing on a piece of toast, she idly flipped through the channels. News, weather, Say Yes to the Dress, Psycho—
“Ready to go?” Scott said, suddenly appearing behind her.
Kitty almost dropped her toast, surprised. Instinctively, she turned off the TV, flushing a bright red. “I, that—” She wasn’t even sure why she was feeling flustered. This was fine! Technically allowed! No one expected otherwise!
Yet it was one thing to relax when no one was around, and another to do it in front of her slightly sweaty housemate. Scott’s hair might be carefully combed, but his skin still had a light sheen to it from all the exercise. Noticing her stare, he cocked his head. “What’s wrong?”
He’d always been a slightly dense brick. Fighting back her embarrassment, Kitty scarfed down her toast and stood up. “N-nothing. Let’s go.”
“Alright then. I pulled my car up front, so just slip in.” Scott picked up her backpack and slung it over his shoulder. “You know, instead of a reality show, you should try watching the news.”
If Kitty could have, she would have stomped to the car.
-x-
“Hey girl!” Kitty got no other warning before a pair of slightly tanned arms wrapped around her neck, hugging her tight. Tabitha pressed her cheek against Kitty’s, her messy hair tickling her neck. As usual, her perfume was as loud as she was. “Heard you got hurt.”
“Tabitha!” Kitty laughed, leaning into her friend. She’d been getting lonely anyways, sitting in the playground as she was. Kurt had gone to get lunch and unfortunately the track team wasn’t practicing, so she couldn’t even stare at them. “Did Amara tell you?”
“Didn’t have to, I have eyes.” Tabitha let go and rested her hands on her hips. “I hear Blue is now two for two for training accidents?”
“It was my fault this time, not his.” Kitty rubbed her neck sheepishly. To be honest, the other time hadn’t been entirely his fault either—Tabitha had a little to do with it. Gesturing at her leg, she explained, “I broke my leg, so now I’ve got that ugly thing.”
“I know training sucks, but I didn’t think you’d go that far to get out.” Tabitha whistled as she saw the cast. “Damn, that’s clunky.”
“I know, right! It’s like I have snowpants or something.” Kitty rapped on the top of her cast. “It’s so thick! I don’t want to know what’ll smell like after all of this heat.”
“You’re lucky it isn’t summer, or you’d be roasting in it.” Tabitha scrunched her nose, her lips curling with disgust. “Broke my arm once, on a job, and not only was I utterly useless after, I reeked like Toad.”
“Seriously?” Kitty didn’t have to ask to know what sort of ‘job’ she was referring to. Wincing, she looked at her cast again. Tabitha had to be exaggerating, right? “It’s not that bad, right? I can’t get it off for six weeks. I don’t want to deal with smell on top of everything.”
“Just spray some perfume on it.” Tabitha winked. She mimed spraying it on. “Works like a charm.”
“Eww.” Kitty glared at the offending cast, her heart sinking. Just how stinky could the thing get? She groaned. “So either I smell like Toad or a flowershop.”
“Hey, the choice is yours.” Tabitha grinned, shrugging. “I bet Logan won’t like either smell.”
“I don’t think Rogue or Kurt will like it either.” Resigning herself to her fate, she hoped they’d still hang around her after six weeks were up.
“Cheer up, it’s not that bad. You get a lot of sympathy goodies.” Tabitha crouched next to the cast, a marker in hand. She started doodling something, just out of Kitty’s sight. “People open doors for you, give you seats, sometimes even food—”
“You shouldn’t eat things strangers give you,” Kitty warned, worried about that last one. Sometimes, she was amazed Tabitha made it to high school. More often, though, she was impressed the school hadn’t burned to the ground multiple times, considering her short temper. “And what’re you drawing?”
“You’ll see!” Tabitha replied cheekily, her brow furrowed as she finished her masterpiece.
Kitty rolled her eyes. “Fine, keep your secrets.”
“I’m pretty good at that, ask anyone.” Tabitha smirked up at her. “How’re the geeks taking this? Bet Logan ain’t happy.”
“They’re like, the only bad part.” Kitty grimaced, remembering Scott’s lectures. And she had to get a ride from him for the next six weeks—her mornings were going to be so ruined. “I swear, Scott and Jean won’t shut up about it, and Logan’s just counting down the days till he can make me suffer again.”
Tabitha stood up now, laughing. “Sounds like ‘em.” Hand on her hip, she gave her a wry look. “Honestly, you should just ditch that whole scene and join me. It might not be the best place to stay, but it’s the funnest.”
There was absolutely no way Kitty was staying in that rundown house the brotherhood claimed was ‘livable’. She’d been there a handful of times, and each time she wasn’t sure how the place hadn’t been torn down. At the very least, it had to be filled with lice or something. “I’m not that desperate.”
“Yet.” Tabitha pocketed her marker and waved before waltzing away. “Lemme know if you change your mind.”
“Not happening!” Kitty laughed, watching as a garbage bin exploded.
-x-
Kitty lay on her bed, examining her cast by her tablelamp light. It was, perhaps, the first time she’d gotten to use that thing without having to cram for a test or something. Today was actually full of firsts—she finished her homework without having to rush, she had dinner on time, and hey, she saw an episode of her favourite drama on time instead of catching a rerun.
Even now, she was lying in her bed, at 11pm, and not bone-tired for once. Across the room, Rogue snored lightly as she slept, too tired from training to complain about the light. The house was utterly silent at that this time and if it weren’t for the lights-out rules, she’d have snuck around to see just how different the house was at night.
For now, she bent over her cast, running her fingers along the different signatures she’d collected. After Tabitha had signed it, the rest of her friends popped in, one after another, all ready to make a mark. The once white cast was now a collage of signatures and messages. Rogue had written her name in purple ink, with nothing else added to it, and Kitty couldn’t figure out if it was because she didn’t have anything she wanted to write, or if it was because she was too embarrassed to put anything.
Feel better soon, Honey, Kurt had written in blue ink, and Kitty smiled as she pressed her fingers on the pink heart he’d drawn beside his name. It was utterly cheesy, but she liked that about Kurt.
There was a picture of a grumpy Logan next to Spike’s name, and Kitty covered her mouth to muffle her laughter. He was a terrible artist, and that only made it funnier. Logan was either a furious hedgehog or he was some new evolution of a bear. Definitely not human, at the very least.
Finally finished with all the easy to read signatures, Kitty leaned forward and strained her neck to see what was on the back of her cast. More importantly, to see what Tabitha had spent so long drawing. Biting her tongue and squinting, she could just make out the picture.
It was a dick.
Of course it was. She flopped back on her bed, and silently swore revenge.
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