Hello, and welcome to my little corner of the internet! One of them, at least ;) This one is dedicated exclusively to my fanfiction. I'm a 21 year old hobby writer, college student, and part time worker. My goal is to publish one chapter biweekly of each individual fanfiction, so in total one chapter every week (alternating between the two I am currently writing). I've been wanting to get back into writing since pre-pandemic, and decided my first step towards original works would be to practice with fanfiction. From there, I plan on publishing short stories, followed by actual books (all of which I have plenty ideas for, I simply have yet to write them).
I used to be someone addicted to using AI chatbots, a habit which began during the pandemic when I was depressed. Recently, I decided to boot that habit, and have since deleted all my accounts and even took the extra step to block my access to all websites/apps using the extension/app ScreenZen. I highly recommend it if you struggle with screen time usage, like myself. Currently, my fanfictions are ideas that began with chatbots, but I have now been writing without any AI use—even for grammar or polishing. Instead, I have my lovely IRL friend and dedicated beta reader @ivory-dragon to thank for correcting any spelling & grammatical mistakes that make me look like an idiot. Also, since I deleted all my accounts, I simply have no access to any chatbot logs and have to pull from my memory and own creativity.
I wanted to share this little blurb about me since I know a lot of people are having similar struggles at the moment, and I hope that I can inspire just one person to take that desire for connection and creative expression and channel it into their own original work, rather than chatbots. I've found that AI can be completely soul-sucking, frankly. Especially since it takes up your time with trying to get the 'perfect' response. While some people may find similar problems with writing, I recommend beginning with one draft and forcing yourself to just write with deleting as little as possible. I actually like writing in pen precisely because you can't simply delete or erase your work. Sometimes, you'll find your best ideas are ones you would've otherwise scrapped. So, keep your drafts, folks!
Another benefit of writing, I've found, is that in a roundabout way it forces me to live life and be social more. After all, the best writing comes from personal experiences. So, I've been going out to seek out said experiences in order to be able to write about them. Minus any traumatic ones, I'll stick to imagination and research for that. Even if my FBI agent will be raising eyebrows at my search history.
For anyone looking to utilise platforms to write that won't scrape your data to feed into AI, I've personally been using the website Ellipsus lately. It allows you to share drafts with friends like google docs, without the caveat of your work being 'public' and therefore liable to scraping (as per their terms and conditions). It also allows you to sort your works into folders and drafts. My favourite aspect is their templates, which include questionnaires to help you flesh out ideas. Outside of that, I also use the app Obsidian. I enjoy its mechanics of being able to link together ideas into one large web, which is perfect for worldbuilding. I've heard it's good for note taking, too.
If you can't tell from here, and my writing, I enjoy sneaking in advice from my own lived experiences. That being said, since they are from MY lived experiences, naturally they will not apply to everyone. Please take all advice with a grain of salt, and remember I am just an anonymous internet stranger and certainly not a qualified professional.
I'm always happy to answer questions about my thought process, stories, and take suggestions for the direction of my current fanfictions (although I am not taking requests for new fanfictions). Feedback is always welcome, especially being an aspiring author—as long as it's constructive criticism/critique! My asks are always open as well, so feel free to reach out and I'll answer whatever I'm comfortable with :)
Summary: congratulations! You have been transmigrated to your favourite world full of deadly villains, quirks, and silly little guys! Even luckier for you, you get thrown in a few months before the main plot begins! All you have to do now is make sure to save everyone who dies and/or gets horribly mutilated. Good luck!
Todoroki has been even less talkative than usual after encountering his brother. You try not to press him on it, but he clearly needs help processing what happened. Even you had recoiled seeing the rotting flesh and staples mutilating the man. You can only imagine how much worse it was for Todoroki.
The days seem to blur together after your outing. A neverending cycle of training, learning, and studying. Trying to cram a lifetime of knowledge into your head over a partial summer was exhausting.
You don't go out again after the incident either. Todoroki never offers, and Takami seemed rather reluctant to let you leave after as well. Sometimes you find one of his feathers lying around, but it's whisked away before you can really question it.
Todoroki began helping with your studies and training. Occasionally you try to bring up Dabi, but get shut down every time. You learn quickly the subject was far too touchy, and you weren't nearly close enough for him to open up about it.
Aizawa has taken on a fatherly role in your life, being a mix of gentle yet strict in his teaching. He was mindful of your needs, and worked with you rather than using his usual tactics. He was far less harsh with you than he'd ever been with his other classes from what you could tell. In fact, he never once raised his voice with you. Even if he got annoyed, he'd usually just sigh and sit you down to talk it out.
Before you know it, the time to prepare for school has come. You didn't anticipate needing to test into U.A.'s general course, although you really should have expected it. It made perfect sense, applying to a college and testing into a prestigious school, but it was daunting nonetheless. Your nerves had been frayed ever since Takami brought it up in passing.
Aizawa had noticed, and ran you through practice tests. He also began pushing more for you to go on another outing, since the test would be in person. The mere idea gave you a sense of dread.
How can anyone walk around as if it's perfectly safe?
"Hey," Aizawa ruffles your hair, pulling you out of your anxious state. "You really think anyone could give you a hard time while I'm here?"
You bite the inside of your cheek, looking away without answering.
He sighs. "Listen, no villains show up who will be a serious threat until later in the year, correct? Even if they show up early, they wouldn't just run amok in public. Relax."
"I can't just-"
"I know, I know, I just mean you don't need to spend your time worrying about the future right now. The bird-brain does it enough for the both of you," Aizawa remarks, rolling his eyes slightly. "You need to get accustomed to being around people again before attending school."
"…alright," you agree reluctantly.
He was right, and you knew it. Besides, you don't have the energy to argue at this point.
Life felt tiring lately.
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Much to your relief, your outing with Aizawa is completely unremarkable. In fact, it was so normal you almost forgot you were in a world with dangerous criminals popping up constantly. Not to mention crimes were a regular occurance from petty criminals.
Aizawa takes you to his favourite hotpot place to start, before bringing you to a local exhibition and explaining the displays to you. It was about the heroes of Japan, and he takes the time to explain their quirks, significance, and accomplishments. While he does, he prompts you for what you understand out of the written text, and which heroes you recognise. Lastly, he takes you to grab ice cream and walk through a park—only briefly though, since he gets rather grumpy in the heat.
He promises to take you for ice cream again when you pass and get accepted into U.A. He says it as if it was already a predetermined event.
You don't deserve his confidence.
What happens when you fail? He'll abandon you the moment he realises you're useless.
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The day of the test arrives, and you can feel your nerves getting the better of you. It doesn't help that Todoroki was the one who was dropping you off and picking you up. He says he wanted to familiarise himself with the school grounds, confident he'd passed his own exam without even receiving the results yet. You were sure he had as well, but it still seemed rather cocky.
Regardless, you appreciated his support… until you actually reach U.A., and are yet again made aware of just how famous Todoroki was thanks to his family. It was embarrassing to have to extract yourself from the intimate position forced by riding the motorcycle he drove you on with everyone staring. You swore you could hear whispered questions as to who you were, and if you were his lover or something.
You wanted nothing more than to turn straight around and go home. Todoroki can sense this, and snags your sleeve before you can find somewhere to hide and avoid actually entering the testing hall. You shoot him a frustrated look, which he doesn't react to.
"Don't make me walk you to the testing hall," he deadpans. It feels like a threat. "You're better than some rumors. Come on," he tugs your sleeve a bit, urging you forward.
You reluctantly move, glancing between him and the crowd hesitantly. Come to think of it, you hadn't actually been alone since arriving in this world…
When you try to continue walking towards the steps of U.A., your legs don't cooperate anymore. You're frozen, staring at the gates as a million fears rush through your head.
They're going to bully you.
They'll all know how pathetic you are.
They think you're some kind of gold digger.
What if something goes wrong? What if a villain shows up early?
What if someone tries to talk to me?
I don't know how to handle this.
I can't do this.
"…do you… want me to walk you?" Todoroki asks hesitantly, more gently this time.
You blink, slowly coming back to the present. You give a slight nod, eyeing the others around you warily. "…yes, please," you plea softly.
Todoroki gives a curt nod, beginning to lead the way through the crowd of prospective students. People hastily get out of his way, wary of his status and cold demeanour.
Part of you wants to reach for his hand, but the other part thinks that's childish. You rub the fabric of your top between your fingers instead, to keep your hand occupied while expelling some anxious energy. It doesn't do much for your overall anxiety.
"Which room is the test in?" Todoroki asks, looking back at you.
You hastily pull out your phone, fumbling with it as you do. "Um…" you squint at the screenshot you took, zooming in to the room number. You quickly relay it to him. He nods again, leading the way.
You're not sure how he knows where he's going, but don't question it and instead thank your lucky stars he was willing to take charge. You were certain you'd be lost and overwhelmed without him.
You can't do anything by yourself.
"彼らは誰ですか？"
"二人は付き合っているの？"
"轟は一匹狼だと思っていたんだけど？"
"彼らは本当にラッキーだね……"
You can't prove it, but you can feel the words whispered by passerbys aimed at you. You definitely hear Todoroki's name mentioned at least once. To calm down, you take as deep a breath as you can. Your chest is a bit tight, which doesn't help. You take a few more, and it loosens ever-so-slightly.
"We're here," Todoroki says, stopping so abruptly that you nearly run into him.
You blink, peering out from behind him at the entrance to a large lecture hall. "Oh…"
You wished you had further to go.
"You'll do fine," he says gruffly, motioning for you to enter. "Text me when you're done. I'm going to survey campus."
"Okay," you agree reluctantly, slowly walking past him and towards the door. You look back at him once, seeing him watching rather impatiently to ensure you actually went inside.
You wince slightly, before looking forward again as you push open the door.
Stepping inside, you're greeted by a massive lecture hall looming before you. It's size completely dwarfed that of any lecture hall you'd ever been in before, and it almost left you dizzy just looking at.
Yet, at the same time, it felt as though the walls were closing in around you. All eyes were on you, as if they could sense your weakness. Quirklessness.
It was never something you had to think much about before. Aizawa never made a big deal of it, simply emphasising that he never fought using a quirk himself and it was not some insurmountable obstacle in self-defence.
But here, in the real world, quirks were everything. They determined your status, your ranking in society, and your life path.
"一体何ぼーっとして立ち尽くしてるんだ？どいてよ、邪魔だから。"
A sharp voice cuts through your thoughts, and you turn your head, half-expecting it to be addressing someone else.
Unfortunately for you, the person who spoke was staring directly at you.
"耳が聞こえないのか？ どいてって言っただろ、" they say impatiently.
"S-sorry, I don't speak Japanese well," you stutter out, taken aback.
You narrow your eyes as you try to place where you've seen them before. Your eyes widen in recognition as it hits you.
"Oh! You're Shinsou, right?" you blurt out before you can stop yourself.
You promptly bite your tongue before you could say something stupid again, watching Shinsou's features harden with suspicion.
"What's it to you?" he asks, his gaze hard.
"I-I, I just-" you fumble for an explanation, panicking. "I heard some people talking about you," you manage to get out.
It sounded lame even to your ears, but he seems to buy it. He heaves out a long-suffering sigh, running a hand through his hair.
"そりゃあそうだろうね。外国人たちまで私の噂話をしているんだから。悪口から逃れられないなんて、分かっていたはずだったのに、" he mutters under his breath.
He pauses, before narrowing his eyes as he observes you more closely. "…they couldn't have said anything good… so why do you seem happy to see me?"
You can feel your cheeks flush. You were so relieved to see a familiar face, you forgot about the fact people saw him as a villain. After all, you could really only see him as a miniature Aizawa. Grumpy, sleep-deprived, and cat loving.
You cover your mouth to partially hide your face while looking away in embarrassment. "I, um… was just relieved to find a fellow outcast," you mutter.
It wasn't entirely false. You were quirkless, and people seemed to be torn between approaching you and being wary of you for your association to Todoroki. Although, someone likely would have approached if Shinsou hadn't confronted you first.
He tilts his head, looking you up and down. "…outcast, huh?" he repeats. "What, did you land with a villainous quirk too?"
"Huh? Oh, no… I didn't get any quirk," you admit softly, cringing slightly as you say it and bracing for a bad reaction.
Shinsou doesn't bat an eye, just shrugging. "Better than being branded as a villain," he remarks.
You blink. "I… I guess so," you agree hesitantly, following behind him as he moves towards the seating.
He shoots you a funny look.
"What are you doing?" he asks suspiciously.
"I, uh, was hoping I could sit next to you…?" you mumble, embarrassed.
He stares at you for a long moment, before turning and continue walking. "Do whatever you want. I don't care."
"Okay!" you agree happily, perking up. It wasn't a rejection, and you'd take whatever anchor you could get right now. Anything familiar was a tether keeping you from sinking into your own mind.
"あれって、轟と一緒に来た人じゃない？"
You notice Shinsou's ears prick at the sound of gossip around you. You also clearly hear Todoroki's name being mentioned this time.
"You walked in with the nepo kid?" Shinsou asks, glancing back at you skeptically.
"It's not what you think!" you reply hastily, worried he'd come under the wrong impression. "Er- sorry but, where did you even hear that term? Your English is really good," you realise, baffled.
You were used to the people around you being bilingual, but it wasn't normal for college students to be so fluent in English when they didn't seem to have a desire to leave Japan. After all, they were training to be heroes here.
"Answer the question," Shinsou demands, stopping to look you dead in the eye.
"…I did," you answer slowly. "Why?"
Shinsou scoffs. "And you claim to be an outcast? Walking around with Mr. Popular? You almost had me. Too bad the gossip gave you away," he sneers, turning to walk away.
"Wait!" you call out hastily, scurrying after him. "Please!" you plead.
"Just hear me out first!"
Shinsou sighs, jamming his hands into his pockets as he turns to look at you impatiently.
You take that as an invitation to explain.
"He's my guardian. Er, kind of. I- I kind of got kidnapped, I think- I don't know, I lost my memories, but now I'm living with Takami—I mean Hawks!—and Todoroki fills in for him when he can't be around. So does Aizawa, although I think Takami is my only official legal guardian. Also I got labeled as an 'incapacitated adult' or whatever, plus I have amnesia and have no identification or anything so I literally can't do anything without them and-"
"くそ- What the hell? Seriously?" Shinsou asks, cutting off your panicked rambling.
He shakes his head, as if trying to clear it. "Let me get this straight. You were… kidnapped. Right, 'cause you're a foreigner. So you were probably trafficked, or something," he mutters, rubbing his chin slightly as he ponders the most likely scenario, "and Hawks must've been the person to find you and subsequently be assigned your guardian. Because he's the number three hero, he couldn't be around 24/7 and needed additional help, leading to Aizawa and Todoroki being brought in. Aizawa I understand, but… the rich kid? …must be because they planned on enrolling you here," Shinsou continues, narrowing his eyes as he stares at you. "What I don't get is why they'd do that."
"Oh- it's because they wanted a sense of normalcy for me, and wanted me to adjust to your society," you explain, a bit stunned by how he was able to put all that together from your bumbling explanation.
Shinsou nods slowly, contemplating your words. "…which means you don't know anyone here outside of them," he continues.
"Yes," you confirm.
"…I see."
He drags a hand down his face in exasperation, internally debating something. "Alright, whatever. I believe you. But I won't be doing your reputation any favours, so don't come crying to me if people think you're a villain too," Shinsou says flatly.
"I— I won't!" you agree, shocked he seemed to take this in stride. You hurry after him as he resumes walking to the nearest seat, plopping down in it. You sit next to him, stealing glances as you marvel at the fact he was so nonchalant about this.
"…if you have something to say, just say it," Shinsou says, side-eyeing you disdainfully.
"Ack- sorry, I was just… why aren't you bothered?" you ask.
"…"
He doesn't answer.
You get the feeling he probably doesn't know himself.
When the silence continues to stretch on, you focus your attention at the front of the lecture hall instead.
I wonder when the exam proctor will arrive.
I can't believe I spilled my guts that fast.
I thought I agreed not to share my situation like that.
Although it's not like it's difficult to find out after the damn press leaked it.
Fucking vultures.
I wonder how long before someone recognises me for living with Takami.
Or as the person from the mysterious international incident.
I wonder if they'll care.
They're probably just going to gossip about my love life.
This sucks.
You aren't able to ponder the inevitable gossip for long, as the exam proctor arrives and begins explaining the process.
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You and Shinsou finish around the same time, so you're able to catch him before he leaves.
"Hey! Wait up!" you call out when you're back in the hallway.
"I- uh- was wondering if I could have your number? Maybe we'll have the same classes, plus… um… it would be nice to get to know more people here," you say awkwardly.
Great. Now he thinks you're asking him out.
Shinsou stares at you like you've sprouted two heads. Then again, it was perfectly plausible for such a thing to occur in this world. You're not sure what metaphor would be appropriate.
"…you say it like we're going to get in," he says flatly.
"Well… I mean… yeah?" you reply hesitantly.
"…fine, whatever," he decides, rolling his eyes as he holds out his hand impatiently.
You pass him your phone, to which he texts himself his name so you know how to spell it and can add it to your contacts, while he now has your number as well.
"Oh— right," you quickly introduce yourself properly, realising you'd managed to neglect actually giving him your name now that it came to this. You also text it to him so he has the proper spelling, since he did the same for you.
"…are you taking the hero exam?" you ask, recalling that he'd tried (and failed) to get into the hero department in the original story.
He raises an eyebrow at you. "…yeah, I took it. Knowing my luck, though, I figured I'd apply to the common one too."
You nod. "Alright… well… see you around?" you offer awkwardly.
You were becoming painfully aware it had been far too long since you've used your social skills, thanks to being stuck in Takami's penthouse.
It was certainly coming to bite you in the ass now.
"…sure," he replies flatly, sticking his hands in his pockets as he walks away.
His response doesn't exactly inspire confidence, and sounded utterly indifferent. Still, at least it wasn't a 'no'.
You stare after him for a bit, before remembering to text Todoroki. You quickly update him that you were done, and confirm you were in the same place. Finding a bench to sit down on, you watch as people filter out of the lecture hall and pass by.
I wonder if I'll see him again.
It was kind of nice meeting him. At least he doesn't care about what others think, or about my situation.
I hope I can be like that some day.
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A/N: Quick Japanese lesson here—'轟' means Todoroki (pulled from the Wiki). Hope y'all survived the cringe/second hand embarrassment that was ~socialising~ You can't expect someone who's been inside for months to NOT be wildly socially awkward as they readjust. Apologies in advance. If you didn't get second hand embarrassment, I applaud you. I cringed a bit just writing this. Also, Shino my beloved.
Beta Reader: @ivory-dragon
Taglist: @napforalifetime @godoffuckedupcats
Writing Playlist: My music was all over the place and wasn't really in one playlist, but I hit flow state and totally lost track of time writing at the end listening to 'Pork Soda' by Glass Animals (love that entire album).
Summary: you're a student at Teyvat University, and you (understandably) get lost on your way to class and are late. Unfortunately for you, your professor skipped over the syllabus and got straight into a lecture. More fortunately for you, you wind up sitting down right next to your GA, Albedo. Joining his office hours to catch up on what you missed, you find yourself dropping in more even when you don't need help.
Word Count: 1.2k
Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Next Chapter
Comment to be added to taglist!
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You were beginning to wonder if anyone would ever come to Albedo's office hours, beside yourself. You were already seven weeks into the semester, and yet you were the only person to take advantage of his time. Since getting sick, you dropped in regularly to talk through your notes. You did have a couple other people you could practice explaining the class from memory to, but you preferred working with him as he could correct you and elaborate on things you didn't understand. Plus, you like to think he enjoyed the company.
Admittedly, you were also showing up religiously because you were anxious about the upcoming midterm. Albedo had repeatedly assured you there was no need to be, and seemed to truly believe you would have no issue with the test.
"Why would you? You show up to class, and you even come to my office hours outside of it. I can see your grades, mind you. Based on all of that, I am certain you are the best prepared out of everyone," he replies when asked.
It was true—your homework grades were all A's, although that was because the homework really only required you to recap what the lectures and readings said. Sometimes you suspected Albedo was lenient on you, but considering that it truly was that simple, it was difficult to say. You were used to 'simple' problems being more complex below the surface in other classes, but with this class it truly seemed that what you saw was what you got. Likely because it was a lower level class.
You decide it wasn't worth overthinking, and to just take the easy A.
You were putting in the work, and you were seeing results. It's not like you were cheating, and frankly Albedo didn't hesitate to bluntly critique you—so you doubted he'd show any favouritism. Still, the doubt and imposter syndrome crept in from time to time. Especially with the midterm coming up.
What if it was all a fluke?
What if the homework is easy but the test is super hard?
You'd had that unfortunate experience before. Being lulled into a false sense of security by straightforward assignments, then getting hit with the most obscure questions on the tests that left you reeling. You really hoped this teacher wasn't the type to do that.
Albedo can tell you're worried about the midterm. You hardly tried to hide it—you were asking more questions than normal, second guessing yourself frequently, and even occasionally muttering to yourself about how you could answer something better.
Watching this, Albedo slowly shuts his laptop. "I think that's enough for today," he says.
"What? But it isn't time yet," you protest, furrowing your brows.
He shakes his head. "We've already gone over everything, and I believe at this point it would be more beneficial for you to take a break than to continue attempting to memorise things. Your brain needs time to absorb knowledge subconsciously, which it cannot do if blocked by a conscious effort. It's where the phenomenon of figuring out the perfect response to something hours later ,out of seemingly no where, comes from. Your brain was subconsciously processing the answer the entire time," he explains.
You frown. You weren't sure you bought it.
"If you like, I was going to get some coffee before leaving. I can tell you more about it as we go," he offers.
You don't miss that he's trying to deliberately lure you away from continuing to overthink. You sigh, but nod in agreement. You put your things together and stand up, slinging your bag over your shoulder as you wait to follow him.
"…I thought you liked tea," you half-mutter as he passes.
He glances back. "I do, but I occasionally enjoy a coffee when the mood strikes me. Or when I find myself in need of extra focus or energy," he replies.
You tilt your head in contemplation as you follow him, catching up to walk beside him. "Do you need the focus, then?" you ask, since he was undoubtedly also studying for his own midterms.
He nods. "Correct. The energy boost isn't unwanted, either," he adds.
⚬───────────────✧──────────────⚬
At the café, you order on a whim before rejoining Albedo with your drink in hand. He sips his coffee, glancing briefly at your drink of choice before his gaze returns to your face. "As I was saying earlier," he begins while moving to exit the café, "it is critical to allow your brain 'rest' in order for it to subconsciously process the information it takes in. There is a certain point at which your brain will simply refuse to take in any new information. To avoid this point, one must take breaks without stimulus. Since your brain will not be processing any stimuli, it can instead focus all its energy on processing information, which will allow for better absorbtion. It improves memory recall and reduces study time, amongst other benefits."
You nod along as you walk, thinking back to the last time you'd done such a thing. "No stimulus, huh?" you mutter to yourself.
"None," Albedo confirms. "However, minimal stimulus can be effective as well. Ideally, one would take a short meditative session—such as walking through nature, as we are now," he continues, gesturing to the campus grounds you're now passing through, "or drawing. There are a plethora of meditative activities one could engage in."
"Drawing?" you ask, tilting your head. "I thought that required concentration. And isn't it just frustrating when you make a mistake?"
"It is. However, it can be made meditative when you release yourself from the need to be perfect, and simply put pencil to paper. The meaning is not in the end result, but the process. Therefore, there is no need to concern oneself with how it looks when completed. Although it is rather satisfying when it still turns out nice," Albedo admits, a small smile tugging on his lips.
"…you must really enjoy drawing, for it to be one of the first activities to come to mind," you muse.
"I do."
You don't say anything for a while, instead taking a moment to take in your surroundings. Gentle birdsong fills the air, accented by the rustling of leaves in a light breeze. The sky is eggshell blue and dotted with cotton-candy clouds, while the air tastes of pastries from the café you left behind. You can feel the cement through the soles of your shoes as you walk, the gentle rhythm of your footsteps providing a calming lull.
You sip your drink, savouring its flavour as you close your eyes briefly.
You feel… grounded. Present.
"…this is nice," you admit softly, glancing over at Albedo bashfully.
You hadn't expected to enjoy the stroll so much.
"..indeed," Albedo murmurs, a warm smile gracing his lips. "It is quite pleasant out, isn't it?"
"Mn," you hum in agreement.
"Is your mind clearer now?" Albedo prompts.
"It was, until you asked!" you reply playfully, rolling your eyes.
Something about questions like that always triggered your brain to the same anxious state it had when the initial distraction began.
Albedo just smirks slightly. "Then I suppose I have no choice but to continue our walk, to clear it once more," he remarks.
You swear you hear a hint of playfulness aimed back, and can't help but smile.
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Beta Reader: @ivory-dragon
A/N: I wrote the first part of this while outside, on the porch with my dogs looking out over my garden. I live with my family still, and my mom adores gardening. My dad does too, although he focuses more on veggie beds while my mom focuses on flowers. We have a couple small water fountains where birds come to bathe in that I enjoy watching. One of my dogs laid down at my feet the majority of the time as well, just snoozing away. 10/10 on the atmosphere. Even with playing music I could hear the birdsong through my earbuds, which just added to it. School started again for me (I like taking summer classes to keep up momentum), and since it's an accelerated course it requires a lot of note taking. So I unironically went back to the chapter on note taking to take Albedo's advice because my brain decided a few weeks without notes was long enough to chuck how to do it out the window (it worked btw).
Summary: congratulations! You have been transmigrated to your favourite world full of deadly villains, quirks, and silly little guys! Even luckier for you, you get thrown in a few months before the main plot begins! All you have to do now is make sure to save everyone who dies and/or gets horribly mutilated. Good luck!
Days pass, then weeks, and life continues to move along without you. The day after your nightmare Takami came back early to run through a list of options on how to stave off night terrors. Eventually, you landed on trying an app that you could listen to meditations or bedtime stories for adults on. Maybe it's the way the nightmare left you feeling like a scared little kid, but something about the stories soothed you. It made sleep more bearable.
During the day, you find yourself staring down at the city beneath you from within the penthouse. You never linger too long. It felt suffocating. Knowing you could watch, but never interact.
"Hey. I need to run some errands, you're coming with me."
Your head whips around to find Todoroki standing expectantly behind you.
"Hurry up," he adds, moving to grab his shoes now that he's satisfied you're moving.
"W-what?" you balk, scurrying after him. "But I thought-"
"It'll be fine. Come on."
Todoroki ignores your continued protests and rambling about why this was a bad idea. You didn't know japanese? He'd do the talking, but most people knew english anyway. You still weren't up to speed on the culture? That's fine, you weren't from the country anyway. What if someone asked you something you couldn't answer? He'd answer for you.
Regardless of the excuse you gave, he had a counter ready. You purse your lips. "Are you sure Takami and Aizawa are okay with this?" you ask.
"It's fine, they never said you couldn't—"
"But-"
"—and I asked," Todoroki finishes, once again cutting off your protests.
You worry your lip for a moment, before reluctantly grabbing your shoes. Todoroki tosses you a bag, which you fumble and nearly drop. A few items inside of it do actually fall, and you hastily pick them up.
From that, you can see he packed you some earbuds, a fidget toy Takami got you that you'd been obsessively using since, and some sunglasses amongst other things. He walks over and hands you sunscreen, clearly waiting for you to put it on. You gawk at him. Just how long did he expect you to be out?
Despite your reservations, you comply with his silent command. You still weren't convinced this was the best idea without a pro hero around, but Aizawa was busy for the day, and Takami was never home at this time in the first place.
"So," you say, "where are we going? And what exactly are we doing?"
"I need school supplies," he replies.
"Huh? Why can't you just do that online?" you ask, confused as you follow behind him. "I thought you didn't like crowds or public spaces," you add.
"I don't," he answers curtly. "But it's better to shop in person, so you can assess the quality."
"…I guess," you mutter, still not entirely convinced of his logic.
"You need supplies too."
You blink. "Eh? But I'm not going to school," you say, bewildered. "I thought I-"
"You thought wrong. I can't keep an eye on you if you're not close enough, neither can Aizawa," Todoroki points out bluntly.
"…oh," you exhale softly.
Still just a burden.
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As it turns out, Todoroki does have a private chauffeur—he just hates them with a passion since they work for his dad. Instead, he uses a motorcycle to get around. He claims it's more 'efficient'.
"You just ride it to piss off your dad, don't you?" you ask bluntly.
"Yes."
"I knew it," you mutter, eyeing the vehicle warily. As thrilling as a motorcycle ride sounded, a lot of that thrill came from the risk of becoming a smear on the pavement. Which, frankly, sounded like a terrible way to go. Then again, with his quirk, Todoroki could likely prevent any serious accidents using his ice.
Walking up to it, you can see the motorcycle is different from those in your world. For one thing, it doesn't run on gas. Todoroki can sense your wariness of the machine and leans back against the bike while crossing his arms.
"Have you ever seen one before?" he asks.
"Mhm," you nod, "but they run on gas, and are super unsafe. There's nothing between you and a car—or the ground," you explain.
"Oh, that sounds like a really early model," Todoroki remarks, furrowing his brows as he racks his brain. "These ones deploy shields automatically if they detect an impending collision. Like air bags," he explains.
You blink, your mouth hanging open in an 'o' shape. "…how does that work?" you ask, curious despite yourself. You walk up closer, trying to find where the mechanism was.
He just shrugs. You shoot him a half-glare. At the same time, you weren't able to be completely mad when this was just the way he was. He stares back at you stoically.
You notice there aren't any helmets, and of course, he isn't wearing riding gear. Which means these bikes really must be far safer. Or he was extremely reckless. You'd bet on the former, considering you really couldn't count on your knowledge of technology from your world here. Perhaps the material was created via a quirk. There were so many possibilities, it makes your mind race as you try and consider all the new technological breakthroughs that must have occurred.
The bike seems to have a seat made for only one person. Todoroki doesn't seem concerned about that. You (awkwardly) make it work, resigning yourself to being a backpack.
The ride is surprisingly smooth—it feels as if you're gliding on air. You have to glance down a couple of times to make sure this wasn't a hover bike, and you still weren't certain on how it worked by the time you get off at the mall.
Getting off the bike, you have to wipe lingering sweat off your brow. You shield your eyes as you look up towards the sun, feelings its heat radiating off the pavement. It was far hotter out than the air conditioned penthouse. You weren't used to this heat after being indoors for so long, even if it was only a few weeks.
Todoroki glances over. "There's a water bottle in your bag," he says.
You perk up, grabbing it before chugging the drink. Todoroki shoots you a look, but doesn't comment.
In the mall, it thankfully wasn't too crowded. You still stick like glue to Todoroki's side though, wary of getting separated and running into any unwanted scenarios.
You jolt hard when someone brushes against you, causing you to bump into Todoroki as you jerk away warily.
It felt wrong. You were foreign. You didn't belong here. Surely, someone would notice.
"What happened?" Todoroki asks, only letting you lean against him long enough to steady yourself before he moves away again.
"…nothing," you mutter, still eyeing the person warily.
You didn't recognise them. It's not like there would be a villain roaming around in the public. Or would there?
Your mind goes to how common villain incidents are, to how desentised this society was to the danger they were truly in.
All it took was one villain with serious intent of harm for their illusion of peace to shatter.
You're painfully aware of the way the buildings were not designed with emergency exits or crowd safety in mind.
No wonder everything fell apart when real villains showed up. Hell, even a normal person with a gun could cause absolute carnage.
"…you keep eyeing the exits," Todoroki points out bluntly. "Are you expecting something to happen?" he asks, beginning to look around himself.
"No! No," you assure him, worried he'd think you had hidden something from him. "I just…"
You trail off, staring at the space around you. "…it seems so unsafe."
Todoroki furrows his brows. He'd never heard that before. He'd never even thought it before, either. Not until recently. "…I see what you mean," he mutters. "There's a lack of preparation for any real threats."
You nod, grabbing onto one of your arms and half-holding yourself for comfort.
"However, as this is a highly populated area, there are heroes on patrol regularly. There are also local police within the building to handle petty crimes such as shoplifting," Todoroki adds, glancing over at you for your reaction.
You don't relax.
Despite your fears, as time passes, you wind up relaxing regardless when nothing happens. It feels like a perfectly normal outing, really. The only odd thing to occur is people occasionally sneaking pictures of Todoroki, thanks to his fame. They were probably just trying to brag to their friends they saw him, or post online some gossip. You try to duck out of the frame whenever you see it occuring.
Come to think of it, Todoroki likely never went on outings, let alone with another person.
Were people going to talk about you?
You have to shove away the paranoid thought, like the others preceding it. There was absolutely nothing you could do about that, which meant there was no point wasting time or energy worrying about it.
Easier said than done, of course.
You utilise your tried-and-true method of distraction, focusing on hunting down school supplies that matched your aesthetic while still being practical. The first thing you went to look for was a school bag. You find yourself debating between the messenger bag style and a more traditional backpack. Todoroki picks for you, citing 'shoulder pain' and 'impracticality' as reason to discard the messenger bag. He seemed to be speaking from experience, considering the fact he eyes it with intense disdain.
You decide to take his advice and go for a more practical bag, seeing as you'd be lugging it around all day. You compromise with yourself that you'd use over-the-shoulder bags outside of school—after all, they were far more diverse in style.
From there, you pick out some notebooks other typical supplies—Todoroki once again has extremely practical taste and advice—before moving on to things that while still practical, were optional rather than necessities. Things like hand santiser, lip balm, nail clippers, and other everyday use items that were useful to have on hand. You'd learned from experience nail clippers were lifesavers when it came to hangnails. You simply couldn't resist tugging on them otherwise.
Todoroki chooses similar items, much to your surprise. You're not sure why, but you always assumed he'd stick to the bare necessities. Then again, he was the type to think of things such as having emergency water and medical supplies as part of his hero costume, so perhaps not.
At the end of the day, a mall is still a mall, and you find yourself increasingly distracted by all the stores and stalls begging for your attention. Todoroki is, of course, completely uninterested and unimpressed. However, he allows you to run wild while simply following behind you.
"Todoroki! What's this?" you ask, waving him over to look at a particularly curious-looking object.
He picks it up, turning it over in his hands as he observes it. It looked a bit like a cross between a massage wand and a flashlight. "It's for your skin. Supposedly, it helps you look younger," he says, reading off the back. "You hold the light near your face and gently move it across your skin."
He clearly does not buy its capabilities as he squints down at the thing, before putting it back. "I wouldn't buy it."
"Scams are universal, it seems," you muse. "Multiversal? Multiversal," you correct quickly.
Todoroki doesn't comment on your attempt at humour. However, he does allow you to continually pester him with questions about anything you don't understand, or objects you don't recognise. He's far more tolerant than you'd have expected.
It's only because he pities you.
Looking around, you find the next interesting store to browse. You were determined to make the most out of his patience before it ran out, and hit all the stores that caught your eye. The first on your list is a clothing store.
"おい！ やめろ！"
You freeze, assuming you did something wrong and looking around for the source of the shouting.
"ああ、またかよ、" comes an exasperated mutter from nearby.
"またしても、悪役気取りの奴だ。"
"一体、そこから何を得られると思っているんだろう？"
"うわっ、あいつら、人質なんて取らないでくれよ。さもないと、ここから一生出られなくなっちゃう。"
You're looking around frantically, rattled by the idea of a villain being so close.
Who was it? Who was attacking?
Am I in danger?
How close are they?
What if they hurt someone?
What do I do?
Your train of thought is shattered with the sound of panicked screaming.
"黙れ！" the reply is far harsher and more serious than the chatter surrounding you.
"レジの現金を渡せば、誰も傷つかない。わかったか？"
You can finally see the criminal, someone with a quirk that grew their fingernails into claws—which were up against a man's throat. Said man, while terrified, also seemed rather resigned and unwilling to do much about it.
You stare blankly. No one was doing anything about it, actually. Not even Todoroki, as you glance over at him. He's just watching stoically, keeping an eye on the situation without intervening. "Why aren't you doing something?" you hiss to him.
He looks back over at you briefly, before resuming watching the scene. "It's illegal to use your quirk for heroism without a license. Vigilantism ban."
"That is the stupidest-" you're cut off as a resounding CRACK rings out.
Your head whips back to the criminal, who's now clutching their bleeding nose and stumbling away from their former hostage. Your eyes widen as you recognise the assailant.
Dabi cracks his knuckles, looking royally pissed. "よく聞け、このクソガキ。人質事件なんかで時間を無駄にしてる暇はないんだ。バッグを持ってさっさと失せろ。さもないと、俺がぶっ飛ばすぞ、" he snaps, practically daring the man to do something.
You glance over at Todoroki, who is clearly shell-shocked at the appearance of his long-dead brother. Knowing Touya—Dabi—was alive and seeing it were two completely different things. While most of his rotting flesh was covered by clothing, what was visible was still enough to make Todoroki recoil.
As much as you'd love to stay and watch the show, you decide instead to shove Todoroki behind some more civilians before Dabi saw him and things got heated. Literally. You had no idea how Dabi would react to seeing his younger brother in this situation—he was clearly disguised as a civilian at the moment, so he might not want to blow his cover. At the same time, he held one hell of a grudge against his former family.
Todoroki, however, has other plans and digs in his heels stubbornly at your attempt to move him. "Todoroki, don't-"
Dabi seems to react slightly at the name, and you swear he looks over at you for a moment, before dodging an attack by the criminal lunging towards him. Dabi's hands crackle with blue flames for a split second at his temper flares, but he extinguishes them and instead opts to simply hit the vagrant in the back of the neck to knock them out.
He looks down at the collapsed person with disdain, nudging them with his foot to ensure they were actually unconscious. With that, he shoves his hands back in his pockets and begins to walk towards you both.
You scramble to snag Todoroki's arm and drag him the hell away. This man needed way more therapy before he could even dream of having a conversation with Dabi. They both did, but it was a stretch to think that was possible with Dabi at this point. "We really need to leave now-" you plead, fully latching onto his arm and putting all your strength into attempting to pull him away.
Damn your feebleness after being stuck inside for so long, because Todoroki doesn't even budge.
"お前。エンデヴァー息子。困っている民間人を助けようともしないなんて、一体何やってるんだ？" Dabi sneers, narrowing his eyes at Shouto.
You stiffen as Dabi looks at you, eyeing you up and down. "お前、一体誰なんだ？"
"あの人たちは私の友達です、" Todoroki replies, stepping partially infront of you at the same time. "君はうまくやり遂げていた。"
You've never heard him talk so much, or for so long. Normally, all you received were curt replies or questions. It almost seemed as if he was laying out a confession, or defending himself.
"は？" Dabi's incredulous response is cut off as police enter the store, and Dabi curses under his breath before shoving his way through the crowd. His exit is as swift as his appearance was.
Todoroki just stares after him.
"…are you… okay?" you ask hesitantly.
Todoroki glances at you briefly. "I'm fine. Let's go."
You bite your lip, worrying it between your teeth. You didn't believe him, but knew better than to push it.
He wouldn't listen to you anyway.
You couldn't even understand what they were saying. And you thought you could help them?
What a joke.
You can't even help yourself.
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A/N: I will die on the hill Todoroki rides a motorcycle when he can't use his quirk to get around. I mean. Come on. He is THE stereotypical daddy-issues boy. You KNOW he got one just to piss the man off the moment he was old enough—ain't no way he was sticking to being chauffeured around. Bakugo 1000% also has one, but only because it 'matches his quirk' (he took off the muffler and has an old gas one). Side note, if you don't know, being a backpack or 'backpacking' is the term for the person riding on the back seat of a motorcycle (which I only know from motorcyle-tok). Speaking of backpacks, using one WILL save your shoulders. Trust. Unless you alternate your shoulders regularly, wearing any over-the-shoulder bag for prolonged periods will inevitably cause shoulder pain. Also, the app I personally use to handle my insomnia/night terrors is InsightTimer (paired with ScreenZen to lock me out of unhealthy apps when I need to be sleeping). I love their adult bedtime stories, especially by the user 'Sleep & Sorcery'. Even if I'm struggling with overthinking, I redirect that energy into visualising the story or mentally repeating every single word said until I fall asleep.
Beta Reader: @ivory-dragon
Taglist: @napforalifetime @godoffuckedupcats
Writing Playlist*:
*I don't even really remember what I listened to for 90% of this, so what you have is what I used for the last 10% (plus looping 'BUTCHER VANITY' by FLAVOR FOLEY)—aka my last writing session
Summary: congratulations! You have been transmigrated to your favourite world full of deadly villains, quirks, and silly little guys! Even luckier for you, you get thrown in a few months before the main plot begins! All you have to do now is make sure to save everyone who dies and/or gets horribly mutilated. Good luck!
Trigger Warnings: night terrors, paranoia, intrusive thoughts, depression
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You wake up groggily, shielding your eyes from the ceiling lights as you try to will yourself up. You're not sure why the damn things were on so early in the first place. Or was it late? You reach out to grab your phone to check, only to feel your skin scraping against cement floor.
You instantly bolt upright, alarmed and put off. That wasn't right.
The buzzing of faulty flourescent lights fill your ears, while the scent of must and neglect fill your nose.
Looking around, you struggle to make anything out. It was as if you were trying to peer through sunglasses at night. Everything was hazy at best. You carefully pick yourself up off the ground, trying to be quiet. You don't know what is going on, but you do know that it's best to keep your presence minimal until you can figure that out.
It's eerily still.
Not even your thoughts were loud, for once. As if the noise had all just been switched off.
It made the buzzing from the shallow lighting even more unbearable, and your heartbeat thrums painfully loud in your ears. Almost louder than your shallow breathing.
Your head swims as you move, while your legs feel as though they're being pulled through molasses. You couldn't run if you tried. Regardless, you press on while groping the wall blindly for a way out of the seemingly endless hallway.
Someone drugged me.
The thought snaps into your mind as you're walking.
I was kidnapped.
You keep moving.
This is Dr. Garaki's lab. You're sure of it. The tank glowing eerily while holding a nomu's body was still burned into your eyes, and the stench of blood continues invading your nose.
Something is following me.
You try to pick up the pace, but if anything you feel as though you've slowed down. Glancing behind you, you can't make out anything in the shadows. But something was there. You were positive. You could sense it.
Watching.
Waiting.
Holding back until the moment you couldn't drag your body any further.
It was toying with you.
Each time you look back, it feels as though the darkness closes in around you a little more. Eventually, it was going to swallow you whole. Whether that came from surrendering to the darkness around you, or to closing your eyes and collapsing in exhaustion—it was inevitable.
You see a flicker of yellow flame the next time you glance behind yourself. Two golden eyes were staring back. You freeze, your legs locking up and refusing to go any further.
Fuck!
You want to curse, to scream, to plead, to say anything at all—
—your mouth won't even open.
You can only succumb to the darkness growing around you, devouring the meager light offered overhead as it approaches. Your ears prick as you hear faint screaming in the distance. The words are too muffled to make out, and you can't distinguish which language they're in. All you can understand is that their voices are panicked, and pained.
The shadows grow longer around you. The eyes grow brighter and larger, eventually looming over you while every other light source is snuffed out. You jolt when hands grasp your shoulders, shaking you viciously from the darkness.
You were going to die.
You don't know whose hands grope at your body, you can't distinguish which direction you're facing anymore. All you can hear is the screams, getting louder. Calling your name.
The rattling in your head matches the shaking of your body from the hands grasping it.
When the eyes above you close, all that's left is darkness. But the cries don't stop.
"…ear me? Come on, wake up- fuck!"
The shaking doesn't stop as you reopen your eyes either. Golden eyes meet yours yet again.
Your mouth finally moves as you scream, jerking your body away and kicking your legs. "Don't!" you plead.
"You're okay now, I promise!" Takami asserts, gripping your shoulders more tightly.
You blink, your eyes slowly adjusting to the room around you. "Ta.. kami?" you breathe out, in disbelief. "You…"
You were a fool. A fool who couldn't even distinguish a monster from a saviour.
"I-I'm sorry," you choke out, bringing your hands up to cover your face.
He's hovering above you, his eyes filled with panic and frustration at his inability to fight this battle on your behalf. It all melts away at your broken words. "It's okay," he repeats firmly. "You're okay. I'm right here," he continues, one of his wings carefully wrapping around you while pulling you into a comforting embrace.
"…what did you see?" he prompts softly when your breathing evens out, cautiously pulling back.
You look away, but the darkness only reminds you of the nightmare, and quickly look back at him. "I… I saw Dr. Garaki's lab… and some kind of… entity," you murmur, looking over him.
"…I think it was Kurogiri," you add softly.
He could be anywhere.
You focus on the details of Takami's feathers, on the fact his hair is dishevelled, and his loose shirt paired with boxers. He probably just woke up, although it was still pitch black outside.
He sucks in a breath at your description, before forcing himself to release it. "Okay… alright. We'll… talk about it later," he mutters, moving to get up.
"Wait-" you reach out, grasping his wrist. "…it's too dark," you plead softly.
He pauses, looking down at you. He seems to wrestle with himself, before sighing and sitting back down. One of his feathers flies off to turn on the lamp nearby, which you have to shield your eyes from.
"Oh? I thought it was too dark, is it too bright now?" he teases, although his voice sounds… subdued.
"No," you grumble, stubbornly dropping your hand and squinting until your eyes adjust.
He lets out a soft huff of amusement, a melancholic smile ghosting across his lips. "Whatever you say," he acquiesces. "Are you going to let go now?" he asks, gently lifting his arm you're still gripping tightly.
"…no," you mutter again, tugging him closer again. "You're gonna leave."
"I won't leave," he assures you. "If I was going to leave now, I never would've bothered showing up," he points out softly.
You furrow your brows. "…did I wake you up?" you ask, feeling guilty.
He shakes his head. "Don't overthink it. I was already up to grab a glass of water, I just happened to overhear some scuffling. It sounded like you were tussling with the sheets," he jokes. "I didn't know you hated bedding so much~"
You don't reply, just looking down.
He takes a deep breath, before sighing again and running a hand through his hair. "What do you need from me right now?"
"I… dunno. Just… stay. Please," you answer softly, feeling like an overgrown child. You may as well ask him to tuck you in and sing you a lullaby at this point.
You're too needy. He has no reason to stay.
He stays anyway.
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A/N: Y'all, do NOT wake someone up from a nightmare. What you should do instead is murmur quiet words of reassurance, gently hug or caress them, and provide gentle but firm comfort. Be careful to avoid waking them—this will ensure they remember the nightmare. If they wake naturally later, they're likely to forget it ever happened. Genuinely the worst thing you can do is wake them up .-. don't be fooled by drama tropes! As someone who's suffered from nightmares, they are greatly influenced by your waking life. The more stressed you are during the day, the worse the terrors will be at night. I got scared to sleep because of it. What I use now to combat it is Insight Timer, an app that has meditations, bedtime stories, and more. It's free to use (most meditations are free as well), and I highly recommend it. I even dragged my beta reader into joining. I personally love the creator Sleep & Sorcery for bedtime stories, and can't go to sleep without a meditation or story now. When I'm struggling with my anxiety, I don't try and shut off my thoughts. Instead, I repeat the words said in the meditation or story, and concentrate on trying to visualise what is being described. It redirects my energy and brain power, leaving less room for anxiety to crowd my mind. Also~ huge shoutout to my beta reader for helping with the nightmare portion of this! I tend to have unconventional dreams/nightmares, and was at a loss on how to write a sequence for something I haven't necessarily experienced 'normally'. Her descriptions were the only reason I was able to be satisfied with what I wrote.
B/N @ivory-dragon: I actually also have weird dreams that often can be semi-lucid. The difference is that I still get many of the classic dream experiences like the feeling of flying (mediocre floating/slow fall), edge of vision being blurry and black, attempting to run feeling like it’s in water, chase sequences always increasing in “danger” yet never getting actually any closer, and so on. So I’m glad my dream experience can now be put on my beta reader resume haha.
Taglist: @napforalifetime @godoffuckedupcats
Writing Playlists*:
*I used this playlist for the first writing stint, then listened to 'Red Sex (Re-Strung)' by Vessel on loop for the second one. 10/10 unsettling vibes.
Summary: congratulations! You have been transmigrated to your favourite world full of deadly villains, quirks, and silly little guys! Even luckier for you, you get thrown in a few months before the main plot begins! All you have to do now is make sure to save everyone who dies and/or gets horribly mutilated. Good luck!
Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Next Chapter
Word Count: 1.6k
Trigger Warnings: intrusive thoughts, depression
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Talking was more exhausting than you would have anticipated. Although that was likely due to the high emotional strain it came with for this particular conversation. You weren't certain on the exact amount, but you were certain you'd been talking for hours. By the time things finally wrap up, you want to go curl up back in bed and hide from the world through sleeping. Maybe then you'd wake up back home, or at least see it in your dreams.
"We need to get them clothes, first of all."
You're brought back to the present when Aizawa speaks louder than usual, bringing up a topic you'd only briefly pondered while changing earlier. Clothing. It would be rather awkward to continue using Takami's, and your clothing was just pajamas. You'd need a whole new wardrobe.
"Ah, yeah. Pick what you want, I'll cover the cost," Takami says, snagging his tablet and opening up a shopping site. You stare blankly at it, the text swimming before your eyes.
婦人服 紳士服 特注 アクセサリー
"Oh- right," Takami swaps on the translation feature.
You take the tablet from him, looking through the options. While you never gave it much thought, it made sense that any clothing business aiming to be successful would have a custom order option. It was practically mandatory at this point with mutation quirks. You can't help but wonder if cancel culture was a thing here, and if it would target brands who did not hold the custom order option for being discriminatory.
Takami peers over your shoulder as you browse, evidently highly curious about your personal tastes. It's a bit awkward initially, but eventually you get used to it. It's actually rather fun how enthusiastic he is about offering his opinions when you asked, especially since he didn't comment otherwise on your choices (minus some questions as to what drew you to them). It was flattering to have him be so interested in you, even if you have swat him away when you shop for underwear. He's unbothered by this, and just laughs. You can tell he only hovered because he was waiting for your reaction, and you delivered the entertainment he was seeking.
Throughout your little digital shopping trip, Aizawa and Todoroki are talking amongst themselves in japanese. Takami occasionally chimes in from his spot on the couch next to you, but otherwise is absorbed in what you're doing. When you ask what they were talking about, he explains they were planning what you'd need to be learning and how to best integrate you into this world. It still felt daunting to think about the amount of work you'd need to put in, so you don't bring it up again.
When you're finally satisfied, you begin to pass the tablet back to Takami, but he stops you.
"You should get some personal items too—not just for hygiene, but some decor and things for your hobbies. It's not like I ever bothered decorating, maybe you could liven this place up for me," he says, shrugging.
You frown. It didn't really feel right to solely decorate his home, when you were just a guest. "I don't want to decorate your place," you say, shaking your head. "Um… we could do it together, though? It doesn't feel right to completely do everything myself. Plus, I've heard it's good for your mental health to have a home you're happy to come back to. A safe space, or something," you murmur, embarrassed.
He gives you a funny look, before averting his gaze. His expression is difficult to read, outside of screaming 'conflicted'. Eventually, he gives a slight nod.
"Yeah, sure, if it'll make you happy," he agrees.
"That's not—"
"Anyway!" he cuts you off before you could even argue that wasn't your point. He knew that perfectly well, after all.
"What's next, Aizawa? Clothes and personal effects are covered," Takami continues, addressing Aizawa now.
Aizawa looks at you, scrutinising your current state. Growing uncomfortable, you look away.
Todoroki gets up to leave, but Takami easily stops him. All you see is a brief flash of red darting past before it seems to snag Todoroki's shirt and sit him back down in his chair. Todoroki looks thoroughly disgruntled at this, and his hand crackles as frost and ice begin to form. It immediately melts as Aizawa looks at Todoroki, activating his own quirk to cancel out the younger man's.
He hates you.
You just look between everyone uncertainly, shrinking back a bit at the uncomfortable situation. "Is everything okay?" you ask softly.
"It's fine," Aizawa assures you, his tone gruff yet still reassuring. "He's just being difficult."
Todoroki shoots Aizawa a glare, before reluctantly looking back at you. He sighs, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "…I'm not really sure what to do here. I still don't get why you chose me in the first place. I'm not even a pro hero," he says, pursing his lips.
You should just let him leave. He clearly doesn't like you. You're just dragging him down.
Why should he babysit you when he needs to be training to be a hero?
Why should anyone be looking after you when they're busy keeping their world safe? You're not even part of it.
Your gaze only lifts from your lap when Takami gently rests one of his hands on your own. "He's not saying that for any of the reasons you're thinking," Takami murmurs softly. "You can relax. He's just annoyed because I was teasing him," he adds, smirking in amusement.
While you don't doubt that, you still feel as though that wasn't the entire reason.
"It has nothing to do with you," Todoroki says bluntly, looking directly at you.
You realise that, in his own way, he was attempting to comfort you. Or at least make it clear he didn't have a problem with you. But it still stung a bit with the way he said it so harshly.
"You weren't the one to call me here," Todoroki finishes.
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Waking up the next day, you feel a pang of disappointment to find Takami had already left. You felt lost without him, and you certainly weren't all that comfortable around two stoic and blunt men. Takami seemed to always make you laugh whenever he was around, no matter how much you wanted to be left alone to wallow. He didn't let you.
But he wasn't around very often. He was a pro hero after all. You don't know why you expected any different.
You weren't special.
Todoroki offers a curt nod in greeting as you walk into the kitchen, evidently having arrived while you were still asleep. You glance over, only slightly self-conscious you were still in your new pajamas since you hadn't bothered changing. You force yourself to move on towards the fridge, and in doing so miss the slight frown on his face.
Opening the fridge, and scan your options. You look at the eggs, contemplating an omelette.. but it seemed like too much effort, and was hardly worth it. You were certain your cooking would taste like cardboard anyway.
You shut the fridge again, moving on without grabbing anything. You'd just have a bigger lunch.
Behind you, Todoroki narrows his eyes. "Hey," he calls out, causing you to stop and look back questioningly.
"Eat," he insists.
You blink, before smiling wryly. "Seriously?" you ask. "It's just breakfast, it's not that big of a deal."
Todoroki shakes his head firmly. "I'm under strict orders to ensure you eat your meals."
You narrow your eyes at that. "Orders, huh?" you repeat, the word souring your mouth.
He nods.
Your eyes narrow slightly in irritation, before you turn on your heel and walk out of the kitchen. There, you find Aizawa in the living room. He glances over at you, sipping coffee as he flips through various case files Takami provided on the villains he'd be facing in the future. He doesn't comment on your lack of breakfast.
Todoroki follows you out, opening his mouth to say something, but he closes it when Aizawa sends him a pointed look. You're not sure what he's trying to communicate, but it must have gotten across. Not that you really cared, you were more focused on trying to decrypt the meaning of the japanese files.
Aizawa shifts slightly to give you a better view and make room for you to sit next to him. You glance at the couch, before choosing to sit across from him on a chair. It just didn't feel right to get that close. Todoroki takes the chair next to you, crossing his arms as he stares at Aizawa questioningly.
Aizawa ignores Todoroki, instead motioning for you to look at the files while he walks you through their meaning. At some point, you're interrupted when Aizawa gets up to grab something from the door. To your surprise, he'd ordered breakfast. A rather large breakfast, for someone as skinny as he was. Then again, he must burn a lot of carbs staying fit to be a pro hero.
You try to ignore the food, but… damn, it's like he'd ordered exactly what you liked. You find yourself suddenly craving it, and struggling to look away.
"Want some? Apparently they doubled the order on accident," Aizawa offers, nodding at the food.
You gulp, swallowing the saliva that had been building as your mouth watered. You find yourself nodding along as you listen to him. He passes you some food, and you wind up scarfing it down.
You hadn't realised how hungry you were until you started eating. You'd honestly forgotten you skipped dinner yesterday—you'd been so exhausted after everything you passed out the moment everyone left.
When you finish eating, you help clean up, not wanting to make more work for someone who already did you a favour in sharing their food. Todoroki gets up to help you without a word. You don't speak in the kitchen.
I miss Takami.
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A/N: Not sure about how much I intend to continue limiting the story to only a few characters, as there is a whole world to explore after all. But I also don't want to rush things. Being depressed does make life feel agonisingly slow at times, after all—and that's what I'm trying to emulate. As for how to speed things back up—best tip is to literally speed yourself up and exercise. As I was saying to my mom earlier today, 'if there ever was a magic pill, it's exercise, because it causes your sleep and eating to fall into place too'. At least, I've found when I work out, I naturally fall asleep in more of a routine and crave healthier foods. I also want to take better care of my hygeine because I feel gross and sweaty. You don't need to work out hard or fast or all the time. One fantastic way to start is mat pilates. You can just pop on a YouTube video and follow along (unfortunately I do not have any recommendations as I mooch off of my family's Peloton subscription instead). I recommend beginning by working out at least once a week, and going for a walk every single day.
Beta Reader: @ivory-dragon
Taglist: @napforalifetime @godoffuckedupcats
Writing Playlist*:
*I was also playing 'Run for Your Life' by Nick Kingsley on loop during my first writing session which, fun fact, was on a flight. Said flight was delayed by 5hrs initially then we had to wait on the runway for another 1hr. You love to see it. Second writing session back home I switched between a couple playlists, while also listening to 'Thunder' by Bubba Graham and 'The Seed' by AURORA on loop at some point. Last writing session I listened to 'Runaway' by Felix Cartal & REGN on loop.
Summary: congratulations! You have been transmigrated to your favourite world full of deadly villains, quirks, and silly little guys! Even luckier for you, you get thrown in a few months before the main plot begins! All you have to do now is make sure to save everyone who dies and/or gets horribly mutilated. Good luck!
Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Next Chapter
Word Count: 2.3k
Trigger warnings: intrusive thoughts, depression
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Despite your best attempt to eavesdrop, the conversation between Aizawa and Takami being in japanese thwarted your plans.
"…私には提供できない助けが必要..."
You know that's Takami speaking, but that's about as far as your understanding goes.
"…はメンターが必要だ…"
He seems to be talking a lot.
"…別世界…本気な…"
That's Aizawa now.
They're probably discussing how to deal with you, because you're nothing but a burden.
You sigh, hanging your head a bit as you pull your knees to your chest. You missed Takami. A faint part of you recognises this is unhealthy, but you're too tired to try and fight it. You feel drained, and you haven't even done anything other than chat a bit and eat breakfast.
You're pathetic.
You completely bury your head now, tucking it in. I wish I could go home.
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A faint voice begins to cut through the chatter, calling your name. You perk up slightly hearing it. They sounded worried for you.
Who could possibly care enough to be worried? Don't kid yourself.
Despite the doubt, you're more certain now that you're hearing someone.
"-ey…"
It didn't sound like it was in your head.
"Hey-"
You blink your eyes open this time, lifting your gaze and finding Takami standing in front of you, frowning slightly in concern. "Are you okay?"
You blink a few more times, adjusting to the light again after having your eyes shut for so long.
"…sorry," you mutter, ashamed of having wasted his time for who knows how long as he attempted to get your attention. Just how long were you zoned out for? You can't be sure, since you don't even recall doing so in the first place.
"What? What are you apologising for?" he asks, bewildered. "Don't look at me like that. You didn't do anything wrong. I…" he trails off, struggling for the right words.
See? You're just giving him more work. He doesn't know how to deal with you. He can't help you.
You jolt as you feel a hand on your shoulder. Looking up again, you realise Aizawa has replaced Takami and has crouched slightly to be eye level. "…you've been through a lot," he states flatly.
You're not really sure how to respond to that. I mean- yes? That would just be redundant.
"I'm here to help you. That bird brain doesn't know what he's doing, so he had to call in a real adult," Aizawa continues.
You can't help but let out a small huff of laughter at that, a ghost of a smile tugging at your lips as Takami sputters in protest. "Hey! That's not-! I am a real adult! I only called you because you're basically jobless and can spend all the time in the world with them!" Takami retorts, his feathers fluffed up in indignation.
Your smile grows enough to be more noticeable, and Takami's feathers smooth out again as he catches a glimpse. Aizawa just rolls his eyes at Takami's childish response without responding.
"You know who I am, right?" Aizawa prompts you, slowly pulling his hand away from your shoulder and watching for your reaction.
You furrow your brows, uncertain on how to respond. You look over to Takami for help. He nods, smiling reassuringly to show you can be honest.
"Um… yeah," you answer quietly, struggling to meet the man's eyes. Your gaze rests on the couch instead, where you busy yourself with tracing out random patterns.
"Good. That will make this easier. I hate introductions anyway," Aizawa says, letting out a slightly annoyed huff at the mere thought of one. "I'm here because Hawks figured you needed a competent mentor."
You can't resist another smile tugging across your lips as Takami grows disgruntled again. He was so easy to read with his feathers all ruffled whenever he was annoyed. He bites his tongue this time though, instead looking away and muttering something under his breath in japanese.
Aizawa ignores him.
"Before anything else, how about we start by getting you some new clothes and cleaned up?" he asks.
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After showering and borrowing some clothing from Takami, you return to the couch. While showering, you swore you caught a glimpse of red for a moment, but forced yourself to brush it off. You were so tired, you wouldn't be surprised if your mind was playing tricks on you.
You were relieved when you got out of the shower and changed. Feeling clean was nice and all, but the experience had been miserable. The voices got so much louder when you were alone, and you didn't even think to bring something to play music to quiet them.
Arriving back in the living room, you linger awkwardly at the threshold. You're not entirely certain where to sit.
Takami decides for you.
You let out a startled sound as one of his feathers flies over, snagging the back of your shirt and dragging you down onto the couch next to him. He wraps one of his wings around you once you're there, and you lean into his side naturally.
Like you were trying to shield yourself from the world.
You probably were.
This world was scary, and completely unknown. Quirks were far more terrifying when they weren't fictional. You were just grateful that Takami was capable of softening or hardening his feathers, so you needn't be constantly mindful of getting cut.
Aizawa is frowning as he watches the scene, his brows furrowed in concern. You were clearly highly dependent on and attached to Takami, likely due to the shock and trauma of your situation. Trauma bonds could be difficult to break, and even more difficult to handle in a healthy manner.
It takes hours of gentle coaxing to get you to finally warm up to Aizawa more, although you weren't terribly willing to get physically close even then. Aizawa shoots Takami a rather loaded look, as if reaffirming something said earlier. Takami sighs.
"Listen… I know I can't be here all the time, but I promise you I'll come back every night," Takami swears, looking you in the eyes. Your own widen in surprise.
"But… don't you usually-"
"I think it'll be a good change of pace for me," he continues, bulldozing straight through your concern. "I tend to lack any real routine, so you can imagine how poor my sleeping habits are. So, I need you to hold me accountable for good sleep, yeah?" he prompts, winking.
"O-okay," you stutter, taken aback.
"I always hear people preaching about the importance of sleep, figured it was about time I tried this whole 'proper sleep' think out~" he remarks playfully. "Although perhaps it's best you don't wait up for me," he adds, grimacing.
You frown. "No way. You said I'm supposed to hold you accountable, right? So, what time will you be coming back? And you better stick to it," you insist.
It was the one thing you could do to be useful. If he needed you, maybe he wouldn't leave you.
He laughs, holding up his hands in mock-surrender. "Alright, alright! I didn't realise you'd take my bedtime so seriously," he muses with a smirk. "I'll be back by midnight, 'kay?"
Aizawa snorts in amusement, muttering something under his breath. You can't quite catch it, but presumably it was in japanese. Takami shoots something right back with "ただ嫉妬してるだけだろ、じじい！"
Considering the glare Aizawa levels him, Takami managed to get on his nerves. Takami just smirks in triumph at this. He'd probably been trying for hours now. You roll your eyes at his antics, but weren't terribly surprised by them.
"It's not fair you get to have secret conversations," you mutter, pouting slightly.
Takami bursts out laughing at your sulkiness, clearly finding it both amusing and endearing as he ruffles your hair in response. You swat at his hand, trying to bat it away. He thinks this is even more endearing, and just does it again. You scowl, crossing your arms and sulking even further. Aizawa decides to intervene before this becomes a never-ending loop.
"Alright, that's enough," he says sternly, as if telling off a misbehaving child. Takami just grins, but raises his hands to show he'd back off.
You stick your tongue out at Takami briefly, causing him to let out a snort of laughter. You can't help but smile yourself hearing it. Takami's grin brightens immediately at the sight, and he looks subtly pleased with himself.
Aizawa looks back to you. "How do you feel about taking some lessons?" he asks.
"Lessons?" you repeat, confused.
"On japanese, our world history, modern technology, our culture, along with some basic self defence," Aizawa explains.
Your eyes widen. It sounded like a rather daunting list. "The idea is to grow your confidence and comfort to allow you to integrate better into our society, when you're ready to begin socialising," Takami adds.
"Speaking of~" he gets a mischevious grin, moving towards the front door.
You narrow your eyes in suspicion, but before you can question him further, you hear a knock. Takami opens it to a rather annoyed looking Todoroki Shoto. "パーティーへようこそ！" Takami says with a wide, enthusiastic grin.
Todoroki narrows his eyes, looking utterly unimpressed. "話す。"
"あまり口数の多い人じゃないんだな？" Takami teases.
Todoroki doesn't reply, just looks at him stoically.
"ふん。また興ざめな奴が加わったみたいだね、" Takami says, side-eyeing Aizawa as he mentions this.
Todoroki raises an eyebrow as he notices the older man, before his brows furrow in confusion as he sees you. Before he can ask, Takami ushers him inside and closes the door.
Takami gives a brief introduction of everyone, explaining how Aizawa would be one of Todoroki's teachers and main advisors this upcoming school year, and how you were a civilian Takami took in after rescuing you.
Todoroki just looks at you blankly, his mind calculating all the different possibilities to why such a thing would occur.
"…それって、あなたと誰かとの内緒の関係で生まれた子ですか？" Todoroki inquires finally, looking over at Aizawa.
Takami doubles over with laughter, while Aizawa just looks at Todoroki with a mixture of offence and shock. "飛んでもない、" Aizawa relpies flatly.
"秘密の恋人？" Todoroki tries again, this time looking at Takami.
Takami continues laughing, covering his mouth with one hand to try and stifle it while the other clutches his stomach. "いや、いや、そんなことじゃないよ。証人保護プログラムに入っているようなものって言えるかもね。"
"They don't speak japanese," Takami adds, finally straightening up. "How is your english?"
"It's fine," Todoroki replies curtly, before looking over at you. "…witness protection?"
Takami opens his mouth to say no, before furrowing his brows. "Well— technically no. It's unknown how they arrived in Japan, and they have amnesia of the event. There are concerns about who did this, and if they may target them again. Particularly if they potentially escaped," Takami explains. "However, that isn't the main reason. The main reason is where they come from, and their current circumstances outside of the crime."
Todoroki looks at Takami with an expression that practically screamed 'get on with it.'
"They're from another world," Takami just says bluntly, tossing Todoroki your phone.
"Wha- hey!" you immediately protest, getting up to grab it. "That's—"
"—the only way he'll believe it," Takami cuts you off, gently pulling you back down.
You purse your lips, biting your tongue before looking away. "…just… try not to go through too much of my stuff…" you mutter, sighing in resignation as you pull your knees to your chest and tuck your head in.
This was the worst.
The only way to prove yourself was to allow your privacy to be completely and utterly violated.
He's going to judge you. Just think of all of the shit on your phone. He can see your entire life, how fucked up the world you come from is. He'll never help someone like you.
"I've seen your phone as well, although I refrained from searching further than the pages about this 'story,'" Aizawa informs you.
You don't raise your head to respond.
"…what is this?" Todoroki asks, looking up sharply at Takami.
Takami had tossed over your phone with the character page of Todoroki Shoto open on it.
"That is you. At least, a version of you. The world they come from holds a story with characters that seem to be reflections of the people here," Takami explains. "I figured showing you would be faster than trying to convince you with long-winded explanations."
Todoroki purses his lips, but nods. He holds onto your phone for a moment longer, staring down at it, before passing it back. You peek up as he does. "…you're not going to go through it either?" you ask tentatively.
Todoroki looks offended at the mere thought. "Of course not."
"…but you still want to know," you prompt. To all of them, really.
They all nod. You sigh, before straightening up a bit more. You take your phone back, debating on where to start. "…since I'm going to be telling you about my life, I want you to tell me more about yourselves as well. If we're doing this, there can't be any secrets between us. I know I technically already know, but I don't want to rely on that knowledge. There is a difference between you, who are real and alive, and characters on a screen," you emphasise.
You don't notice the small smile tugging on Takami's lips, and the brief flicker of relief he wouldn't have to fight to convince you otherwise. It was dangerous to leave you believing this was not your new reality. If you didn't take things seriously… well, he didn't like to think about that. You were his responsibility to protect now, and he had sworn to himself from the moment he met you that he'd do everything he could to do so.
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A/N: Still sick ✌️ We love to see it. Now—time for your latest author's advice! Depression isn't just sadness. It's a complex mental health disorder to tackle. The most intense trait isn't what the name suggests—it's complete and utter apathy. Emptiness. Losing joy in the things you love isn't because you're sad, it's because you're suddenly indifferent to them. While it sounds rather hopeless, I promise it's not. I've faced depression myself, and am still battling remnants. In fact, I only restarted writing recently (as seen with my limited posts). So, how does one face it? What I've done is force myself to go out. When you're depressed, your world becomes incredibly small—often limited solely to your room, if not a few places you meander through by necessity. Getting a job is ideal as a way to show yourself you can still show up, and to build confidence, but the job market is difficult right now. Instead, try volunteer work. It requires the same strict scheduling and you're responsible not just for yourself, but to those you're working for. If there's something you used to be passionate about (or better yet, still sparks something within you), you should check out local volunteering opportunities (a great resources to do so is here). For me, one thing I do to force myself to get out and socialise is signing up for book club. I don't read without it, despite it being something I love. Another thing I do is use the P.E. classes at my college and sign up to them as for-credit, so I have to attend if I don't want to lose both money/earn an F. If you're not attending school, you can sign up for local running groups for free, or join a class—but do NOT just purchase a gym subscription. I find that it's necessary to have a reason to go, not just leaving it to your whim. I've found that's likely to make you feel even worse when you ultimately don't go, because you've set yourself up for failure. The only reason I'd use a gym is if you have an exercise partner who will hold you accountable. Exercise is a fantastic way to regain energy, control, and confidence. It has the added perks of naturally readjusting your sleep as your melatonin will kick in earlier, and you'll also naturally crave healthier things (particularly protein and anything with electrolytes). It's a three-for-one combo.
Beta Reader: @ivory-dragon
Taglist: @napforalifetime @godoffuckedupcats
Writing playlist*:
*I also listened to 'I Feel Like A God' by DeathbyRomy on loop during my first writing session, this playlist my second, and then for the last session I just listened to music by Hozier.
Summary: you're a student at Teyvat University, and you (understandably) get lost on your way to class and are late. Unfortunately for you, your professor skipped over the syllabus and got straight into a lecture. More fortunately for you, you wind up sitting down right next to your GA, Albedo. Joining his office hours to catch up on what you missed, you find yourself dropping in more even when you don't need help.
Chapter Word Count: 1.5k
Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Next Chapter
Comment to be added to taglist!
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To say your week was going poorly was an understatement. On Tuesday, you came down with a cold. Which would normally be fine, if not for the fact that snot dripping out of your nose every few minutes forced you to jolt up out of bed and snag a tissue when you tried to sleep that night. You're fairly certain you only got a few hours of sleep, after scrounging up a nasal spray and managing to stop it long enough to actually rest. Thanks to that, you miss the entire next day of class.
Wednesday night you manage to sleep better, thanks to whatever that spray was made of, but you were still exhausted. So exhausted you overslept by hours, and by the time you managed to get to up and to campus from your apartment, you only had twenty minutes of class left. It took fifteen minutes to walk to your classroom from where you were currently standing. At that point, you're considering if this was a sign from the Archons to just go home and take a nap. Alas, you know pushing off school work would make your life even more miserable after you recovered, so you force yourself to walk.
Not to your classroom, but to Albedo's office. You pop into a random building and grab a mask from their front desk on your way, since you'd rather not curse your GA with whatever mutated cold decided to torment you. Whoever said cold's weren't bad clearly had never experienced a real cold.
You feel rather self conscious every time you have to stop and cough, since it sounds like you're practically hacking up a lung. It feels a bit like you are, too, thanks to wet coughing. Honestly, it didn't feel like you should be out in public at all. Hustle culture said otherwise, though.
So, here you were, standing awkwardly outside of Albedo's office while waiting for him to arrive. The only thing interrupting the silence of the space was your coughing, since it was a rather secluded area. You pop in earbuds to make it more manageable, leaning against a nearby wall and closing your eyes as you pretended this was perfectly normal and not at all deeply embarrassing. You wonder what Albedo would think, seeing you waiting for him after missing class like that. You sat directly next to him after all, he'd certainly notice your absence.
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You're only partially awake when you register Albedo's concerned voice faintly through your music. Cracking your eyes open, they quickly widen as you recognise. You hastily put away your earbuds, apologising profusely for ignoring him.
"It's fine. Are you alright? You missed class and appear to be unwell. Should you not be home, resting?" he asks, his brows furrowed in confusion.
"Ah- um, probably," you admit, looking away to avoid his gaze. "But I wanted to make sure I know what I missed."
"…you could have just sent me an email," Albedo points out softly.
You stiffen, feeling rather stupid for not considering that. You cough, although it's not even to cover up the awkwardness.
It takes a solid half of a minute before the coughing fit subsides, and you can reply. "Ahem… I'll, uh, do that next time. I was already on campus… so… um.. yeah," you mutter, feeling as though he was repremanding you somehow.
Albedo just sighs softly, before gesturing for you to follow him as he unlocks his office and lets you in. "I overslept," you continue, feeling as if you had to justify yourself now, "and then I tried to get here on time but, well, I wound up only arriving on campus within the last twenty minutes of class. I figured that, since I was already here, I might as well visit… um… I learn better in person…" you trail off, leaving a profoundly awkward silence.
Albedo doesn't look particularly impressed by your explanation. "Hm," he hums.
It feels like a quiet judgement.
"It's alright to rest. If you overslept, your body clearly needs it," he remarks.
You don't comment.
"Well, since you're here now, I can go over the material you missed," he continues while sitting down.
You nod, sitting down across from him and trying to ignore your jumbled thoughts. Sick brain was the worst. Nothing made sense to it.
You pull out your laptop to take notes, waiting impatiently for it to start up. When it finally does, you look back up at Albedo again expectantly. He turns his screen to you, going over the lecture slides so fluidly you almost mistake him for a professor.
"You're really good at this," you murmur, the words slipping out before you can stop yourself. This was another reason you hated sick brain—it tended to break your typical filter.
"I appreciate the compliment," Albedo replies, a bit amused with how enamoured you seem at his speech. "I do my best to make my explanations easily understandable. I've found true talent doesn't lie in merely knowing the material, but being able to explain it to someone who does not."
You nod in agreement.
"Speaking of, as there is a test coming up, I recommend practicing by explaining these concepts to someone who does not take this class," Albedo continues. "It forces you to truly comprehend what you're saying and can point to what you lack in understanding."
"Really?" you ask. It sounded a bit ridiculous at first, but the more you thought about it, the more sense it made.
He nods. "Mn. To practice before an exam, I occasionally explain topics to my friends. Although they don't seem nearly as fascinated by my studies as I am," he admits.
A smile crosses your face as you picture him receiving exasperation for his efforts. You can picture him being needled by friends for bringing up school in a social setting.
"Is my plight that amusing?" Albedo prompts, raising an eyebrow.
"No—no! I just- well, I couldn't help but picture how the scene would play out. I imagine you might face some teasing or exasperation over bringing up school work at a social event, no?" you reply.
Albedo smiles wryly in response. "Perhaps. I will not deny the allegation."
You huff out a small laugh. He had such a dignified and refined way of speaking, which you seemed to subconsciously match whenever around him. The word 'crass' came to mind when you imagined how he'd react to your typical way of speaking.
"Mm… can I try with you? Um, explaining the topic, I mean," you ask. "Since you, uh, know it already… you could point out if I get something wrong…" you continue, feeling a bit ridiculous.
Somehow, you always felt as though you always came across as foolish around him.
However, he just smiles warmly and encourages you to go ahead. Miraculously, despite your brain being largely on vacation until you weren't on the drugs staving off your cold symptoms, you manage to explain things decently. For your situation, that was. You try not to think about how poorly you're doing compared to your standard performance.
When time is up, Albedo practically shoos you out of his office. "Alright, I believe that's quite enough for the day. I highly encourage you to go home and rest. I understand missing class can be difficult, but you were already dozing off just waiting for me to arrive. You're in no state to focus enough for class to be beneficial right now. Frankly, your performance was poor compared to your typical performance as well," he emphasises.
You wince. You get he was trying to make a point, but he didn't need to say it so bluntly. Yet, you can see the genuine concern in his eyes, and concede to his point.
"Alright, alright. I'll go home and rest," you assure him. "You're probably right that it would be detrimental to attempt to go to class at this point."
"Good."
You hesitate, feeling as though there was something else you should be saying before you leave. You're just not sure what.
"Right, thank you," you finally say.
Of course you forgot to thank him. At least your slow brain managed to catch up before you left.
"No need to thank me, I'm merely doing my job," he replies, before looking at you expectantly. He clearly was waiting to make sure you actually left.
Relenting, you wave before turning and heading out.
You hadn't realised it until now, but you'd felt much better while talking to him. This much was made obvious by the sudden return of your symptoms, who came with a vengeance. Whether it was from the mental distraction of working or his quiet, reassuring presence, you were grateful for the brief respite. You were certain you would have faired worse alone, likely wallowing in self pity.
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A/N: based on a true story btw. It's been a rough week. I also got my period and have finals. Unfortunately, I do not have a GA with office hours straight after class. In fact, their office hours a long time after class OR directly before class. So, I simply gave up and went home after arriving on campus 30min before class ended because I just could not handle life at that point. Actually, to be more accurate, I sat in my car and contemplated all of my life choices up until that point (my parking pass had expired the day before I got so sick I missed school, which naturally I forgot about, so I had to spend an extra 10min finding a parking spot within a 1mi radius that wasn't taken/permit only). I'm fairly certain I didn't actually even do anything other than stare out into space for a solid 10min, but I had (and still have) sick brain so I don't fully remember. Life lesson: always keep a bottle of nasal spray on hand. That shit works miracles. Good news—I had all my homework done like a week early so I was able to do nothing all day :D Still hacked up a lung while writing this though </3
Summary: congratulations! You have been transmigrated to your favourite world full of deadly villains, quirks, and silly little guys! Even luckier for you, you get thrown in a few months before the main plot begins! All you have to do now is make sure to save everyone who dies and/or gets horribly mutilated. Good luck!
Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Next Chapter
Word Count: 2.4k
Trigger warnings: invasive/intrusive thoughts, trauma, references to self harm
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You wake up to the distinct feeling something is wrong.
You can't recognise anything around you.
You can't hear anyone else nearby.
You can't see anything other than dimly lit surroundings.
You reach out to pull the covers off, only to find your hand bandaged neatly. Pulling it closer to your face to see in the dark setting, you turn it to and fro as you observe it. Did… Takami do this? Wait- Takami. Where is he? You look around. This definitely wasn't your room, nor a hospital, so it seemed unlikely you'd imagined everything. You carefully get up out of bed, noting your feet also seem bandaged and your clothing is the same as yesterday.
You fumble around a bit, cursing whatever those blackout curtains he hung were made of since you couldn't see more than a foot in front of you. The light turns on, and you hastily shield your eyes, feeling like you just got flashbanged.
As your eyes adjust, you notice a red feather seemingly waving at you from near a lightswitch across the room. It takes another few moments before your brain registers that the feather must be Takami's. You shake your head, smiling slightly to yourself. This must be his way of keeping an eye on you.
The feather flies over to another door, which you discover is the bathroom. After exiting again, it leads you to the main door out of the room. From there, you follow it until it leads you straight to Takami, and reattaches itself to his wings. "Oh- good morning," you say, your brain still catching up to the strangeness of your situation.
"Mn," he hums, seeming distracted as he scrolls through his phone. Huh. His phone looks a lot like mine…
"Wait- is that my phone?" you ask, taken aback as you pat yourself down and find it missing.
"Yeah, I borrowed it," he admits nonchalantly, still scrolling through. "Don't worry, I've only gone through stuff about this world."
"You… you what?" you can't quite keep the hint of hurt and betrayal from your voice, confusion clouding your features. You thought he'd wait for you. It was a bit silly, in hindsight, but still… "Why would you do that?" you ask, moving closer to see exactly what he was doing with your phone.
He glances over at you, gently placing your phone down upright on the table. He lets you come over and sit next to him on the couch, carefully scrutinising your reaction as you take in the spread across the coffee table. There was a tablet, a notebook that didn't seem to have a single inch spared from his writing, some pages torn out with contact information, a notepad that seemed to hold cross references between his world and the story, along with a rather concerning amount of energy shots and coffee mugs.
You take a deep breath, pushing down your conflicting emotions. It seemed like he wasn't lying, nor trying to hide anything from you. While you still felt betrayed and upset he'd take your phone and go through it, at least he didn't look through your personal life in it. Plus… it was hard to be mad at someone who clearly spent the entire night working on this.
You sigh softly, looking over at him. "…Takami, in the future, can you please ask first?" you ask softly.
A smile tugs on his lips for the briefest of moments, before falling again. He hadn't been certain what reaction he'd receive, but he appreciated that you were remaining calm. "Sorry, but I'll need to continue researching one way or another," he says, shaking his head. "I will tell you before I ever go through anything of yours on it, though," he adds sincerely.
You bite your tongue, mostly to keep from saying something stupid. "…I… understand," you force out. It was true, too. You understood perfectly well the necessity behind his actions. It didn't mean you had to like it, though.
"Good. I didn't want to have to fight with you about this," he admits, his shoulders sagging as the tension drops out of them. "I know it's shitty of me, okay? You can be mad."
"…that makes it hard to be mad," you mutter in complaint. "Did you get any sleep?" you ask, although it was more of a rhetorical question.
He snorts lightly, as if the question was amusing. "No," he replies flatly, looking pointedly at the energy shots.
He senses your disapproving look, and meets your eyes. "Relax, I do it all the time," he says, as if that makes it any better.
"Takami- you can't do that! You're—" you pause, taking a deep breath. You shouldn't be fighting him. "…just remember, you can't help anyone if you aren't helping yourself, okay?"
He freezes in place, as if he'd been struck. He stares at you, furrowing his brows. He almost looks… confused.
"…can you.. repeat that?" he asks.
"You can't help anyone if you aren't helping yourself?"
"…" Takami looks away, unsettled. "What…" he puts a hand to his mouth, before dragging it down his jaw and off. "Nevermind. What do you want for breakfast?"
You can sense his unspoken question. It made sense, he had been pushed to work nonstop from a young age. The idea must seem foreign to him. He probably didn't even really understand what you meant. You doubt he ever took a day off unless he was forced to, based on his reputation and trackrecord. Regardless, you don't push him on it for now.
"Um... what do you have?" you ask.
"I can get us anything," he says casually.
Oh. Right. He was rich. Perks of being a top hero, you suppose. "In that case…" you list off your order for him, watching as he pulls out his own phone and seems to place the order.
It doesn't take long for it to arrive, interrupting you from going over Takami's notes. They were all in Japanese, but he let you borrow his phone to use the camera translation feature. He also answered all of your questions without the slightest hint of annoyance or exasperation, regardless of the amount.
You can feel your previous frustration melting away as he explains his thought process and reasoning. It strikes you just how smart he was. He'd already been covering everything from getting you back on your feet to a variety of operations and infiltrations to use against the upcoming villain groups. It was rather impressive, and concerning. You wonder how long he'd been doing this to be so adept at it.
You let your mind idle as you eat.
You can't trust him.
You blink, taken aback by the invasive thought. You try to bat it away, but that does little to deter it.
He's already betrayed you. He's just using you.
Fuck off, you mentally retort. …am I seriously arguing with myself?
Of course you are. You can't even think right. I bet he'll find out just how useless you are and kick you out the second he doesn't need you.
You grit your teeth, chewing more harshly than before on your food. Damnit. You'd faced invasive thoughts before. But damn, they were getting to you this time.
You're too weak. You can't handle this.
You close your eyes, willing the voice to go away. You don't notice Takami looking over, narrowing his own eyes as he observes your sudden tension.
I bet no one even misses you.
You slam your plate down, unable to handle that thought. No. You're wrong.
Why am I like this?
You're not sure which voice is asking.
"…need a moment?" Takami asks, making you jolt slightly. You'd forgotten he was here.
"I- uh- I-I'm sorry," you stutter out, suddenly painfully aware of the harshness of your actions in your attempt to get the nagging doubt to shut up.
"It's fine," he says, brushing off the incident. "I'm not worried about a plate. Are you able to finish your food?"
You purse your lips, looking over at it. Bile rises in your throat, and you look away. "…I lost my appetite."
He sighs heavily as he runs a hand through his hair, and you flinch. He's mad at you.
"That's alright. You can always finish it later," he says, snagging the plate to put in the fridge after covering the food.
You stare after him, uncertain. He didn't seem mad.
He's tense. Of course he's mad at you. Why are you lying to yourself?
You wish your thoughts would just go away.
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Takami was counting down moments before Aizawa got here. He was in way over his head. He can see you struggling, grappling with an invisible enemy. He's all too aware of what such a battle looks like. But he doesn't know how to help, other than leaving one of his feathers close enough to listen for and intervene with any attempts at self harm. He was fairly certain you weren't at that point, but he wasn't risking it—not when you'd just lost everything.
He didn't know what he was doing, but he knew that things being quiet weren't helping. "Hey, I need your help with something," Takami says, coming over to you.
You perk up, surprised but eager to help.
"I'm trying to figure out what to do about the villains. It seems like, at the very least, we need certain memembers of the League of Villains to fight on our side in the future. I was looking into their previous criminal records, and current activities, along with those of other villains mentioned. The Shie Hassaikai, the Meta Liberation Army, and their various future members—do you think any of them could be useful?" he asks, dropping a stack of profiles down.
Your eyes widen. "You… want my help deciding?" you ask, uncertain if he was serious.
"Hm? Of course. You probably understand them better than me," he replies.
You don't really believe him, but that didn't matter. You'd thought about this plenty. While they all needed hefty doses of therapy, you already had a mental list of villains worth reforming. "First and foremost, we need to get Overhaul on our side," you say.
Takami raises an eyebrow, but doesn't interrupt you. "His quirk can be used to revive people from the brink of death. I know he mostly uses it for harm, but it's not just a destructive quirk. It's both destruction and reconstruction," you explain, "his healing potential is incredible. I also don't believe he's necessarily a bad person. Right now, he's motivated by the belief quirks are a disease. He thinks everything he does is justified and for a greater good. He even holds regrets for harming his adoptive father, and keeps the man alive. If we can find a way to take his motivation and reshape it, or even replace it altogether, he'd be an invaluable asset."
Takami nods, looking thoughtful. He scribbles down something on the top page of Overhaul's profile, and circles the name before looking at you expectantly.
"Oh- um," you quickly list off the varying League of Villain members who you though could be rehabilitated—Toga, Dabi, Shigaraki, Mr. Compress, Spinner, Big Magne, Mustard—because they were both younger and were pushed into villainy by society. Dabi and Shigaraki you had reservations about, admittedly, and you were upfront with Takami about that.
"This is just getting a general idea of potential allies," Takami reassures you. "I appreciate your help. Your world doesn't have heroes and villains, right? At least, not in the same way," he prompts, recalling your world didn't have quirks.
You nod. "Yeah. It's not so black and white," you agree.
"Mn. It's not black and white here either, people just like to pretend it is," Takami mutters with a frown. "Your perspective is completely different from mine, or any pro hero's. You understand the villains better, and can empathise with them to a degree. I wouldn't say you have a more neutral perspective, but your perspective swings the opposite direction from the common one here. It helps balance things out."
You can't help but smile a bit. Useful. It felt nice to hear.
Takami smiles softly as well, relieved you seemed to be feeling better. His head snaps upright before the doorbell rings, and he hops up to dart over. You hesitate, wary of whoever was at the door. You just peer out from the top of the couch, watching Takami answer the door. Much to your surprise, you see Aizawa. You didn't think they even knew each other at this point.
"一体何がそんなに大事だったの？ 目が覚めるまでメッセージを送ってくるなんて！" Aizawa snaps, irritated. His hair is still rumpled like he just got out of bed, and his eyes are bloodshot. Not to mention the bags underneath them.
You hadn't really looked around much earlier, but now you noticed how… bland it was. Like one of the homes you'd see for sale with pre-installed furniture. It's like Takami never bothered changing anything. He probably hadn't, actually. You'd wager he only came home when he had to.
You tense up when you lock eyes with Aizawa amidst your observing. You wanted to duck behind the couch completely. You weren't ready to see anyone else. Why was he even here? You just wanted to be left alone. On the other hand, this was the Aizawa. A part of you can't help but be excited to see him, even as a larger part is anxious. What if you left a bad impression?
"…" Aizawa looks away first, silently questioning Takami. They step away to talk, and you watch anxiously. Were they talking about you? What were they saying?
Takami is probably trying to pawn you off on Aizawa.
You knew he'd abandon you.
All he needed was the information you had, and now he has it.
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A/N: yall my nose would not quit bleeding while writing this (I swear that's normal for me, my nose just likes to be highly dramatic). I had to pause like 2/3 of the way through and just wait for it to calm down. Could've really used Overhaul's magical healing ability there smh. ANYWAY!
(Rambling incoming)
With all the angst in this chapter, I tried to really hone in on the duality of how someone reacts when thrust into a bad situation. I find that, when alone, the doubt and intrusive thoughts creep in. But, when I'm around other people, it disappears somewhat (depending on who they are and how much of a positive distraction they provide). I tried to pull from my own experiences with intrusive thoughts and the struggle to believe those around you when they're trying to help. I am personally largely out of that headspace, if not completely, but I did struggle with it for a number of years. If you do ever find yourself struggling with intrusive thoughts, the #1 thing to do is ask yourself 'what else is true?' and force yourself to answer positively. 'What if they hate me?' turns to 'What if they don't?'. Even if you don't believe it, and even though it takes constant effort, eventually it will make a difference. 'I can't do this' to 'I can'. Let me repeat: you don't have to believe it. Just saying it is enough, and make sure to do so every time the thoughts get loud. Eventually, you'll even start noticing when they're in the background and be able to confront them there too. Secondly, talking to people about your insecurities can help—if, and only if, you're willing to actually listen to what they say. Refusing to accept their words will only cause frustration on both ends. Distractions also work great. Force yourself to get out of the house and do something that completely takes up your focus. Read a book, try a new craft that's tricky (origami is great imo), learn something new (Harvard actually has a catalogue of free online courses here). Lastly, consume positive media. Play upbeat music with positive messages, watch shows with wholesome themes, look at good news (a good source linked here). Right now, there's a lot of negative messages going around, and it's easy to be sucked in by them. And that's okay, but you don't have to put that all on your shoulders. "You can't help other people if you can't help yourself." Regardless of whether or not you think you're deserving of that help, other people are—and if you want to be able to help them, you have to take care of yourself first. Just like with oxygen masks on an airplane.
Summary: congratulations! You have been transmigrated to your favourite world full of deadly villains, quirks, and silly little guys! Even luckier for you, you get thrown in a few months before the main plot begins! All you have to do now is make sure to save everyone who dies and/or gets horribly mutilated. Good luck!
Ch. 1 | Next Chapter
Chapter Word Count: 1.2k
Trigger warnings: trauma, references to self harm (no descriptions or actual occurrence)
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"彼らは日本語が話せません。"
You're only half paying attention as Takami talks to one of the officers at the police station he brought you to. Looking around, you can't help but feel as though the station looked remarkably similar to those in your world. Well, aside from the people within it.
"わかりました、通訳を連れて行きましょうか―"
"いいえ、彼らは他人と話すのが苦手なんです。私が通訳します、" Takami cuts off the other person quickly.
You glance over, raising an eyebrow at his slight aggressiveness. He was speaking on your behalf at the moment, and while you weren't entirely comfortable with it, he'd pointed out that right now you were too shaken up to be able to communicate without slipping up. While you'd wanted to insist you could speak for yourself just fine, you had to admit he was right. You were completely overwhelmed taking in your new surroundings, and your brain was still processing this massive change. You'd been actively shoving down any thoughts of the world you'd left behind, and any thoughts of the dangers presented in this one.
"わかりました。"
Takami seems pleased at the response he got, and shoots you a reassuring smile. You pull his aviator jacket tighter around you, uncomfortable with the amount of stares you were receiving. He'd passed it to you without a word while travelling here, having noticed your shivering in the night air. He didn't make a big deal of it, so neither did you. You'd just mumbled your thanks before pulling it on and snuggling into it. You were only in your pajamas without it, after all. Considering how cold the air got higher in the atmosphere, it was extremely warm and comfortable. You appreciated that the wool lining wasn't just for show.
Considering all the murmurs and stares from staff, you could safely assume it was rare for the number 3 top hero to personally make a trip to a police station. Top heroes always delegated such things to subordinates. Takami doesn't comment on it, but shifts sublty to slightly extend a wing behind you while the rest of his body remains partially in front of you.
"They're going to ask you some questions, okay? I'll translate for you," he says, looking you in the eyes. "If it becomes too much to handle, just let me know."
You nod, still avoiding looking directly at the officer. You didn't like their expression.
You're lead to a smaller room by the officer, while Takami explains you were going to be interviewed. They pull three chairs away from a table, forming a small semi-circle. Takami sits between you and the officer.
"何か飲み物はいかがですか？"
"Would you like anything to drink?"
You were about to shake your head no, before realising your mouth was completely dry. You purse your lips, before giving a small nod. "Water, please," you murmur.
Takami relays your request to the officer, who briefly leaves the room before returning with a cup of water. You take a sip after they pass it to you, keeping your gaze on the drink rather than anything else.
The room felt suffocating.
"怪我はしていますか？それとも手当てが必要ですか？"
"Are you hurt, or need any medical treatment?"
You shake your head no. Takami glances at the scrapes on your hands, not entirely convinced, but he doesn't push it.
"最後に覚えていることは何ですか？"
"What is the last thing you remember?"
"Being home, in my bed," you reply softly.
It felt too quiet. The room must be sound proofed.
"あなたの家はどこですか？"
"Where is your home?"
You mutter the name of your home country, feeling rather wary about the inevitable follow up question.
"どこの出身ですか？"
Takami answers for you this time. "彼らはそれを言おうとしない。"
The officer nods, jotting something down on a notepad before continuing.
The questioning feels endless. Questions about your thoughts when you woke up, what feelings you had about what happened, questions about your relatives (which Takami answered for you with another 'they've been unwilling to say'), questions about how this has impacted you since, questions about if there was anyone else nearby, so on and so forth.
It made you almost nauseous to try and recall. You'd been forcing yourself to avoid thinking about it, to avoid thinking about your current situation and everything you'd suddenly been ripped away from.
You don't even realise you'd started crying until Takami is crouching in front of you, concern clouding his gaze. The officer is getting up to give you both some privacy.
"Hey, it's alright. I know it's a lot to take in. You don't have to talk about it anymore if you don't want to," Takami assures you gently.
You nod, trying furiously to wipe away and hide your tears. You felt the shame welling up inside you.
He sighs softly. "There's no need to put on a brave face. Did you think you're the first person to break down crying after being a victim? I promise it happens more than you'd think," Takami says. "There's no need to try and hide or stop it. If anything, that will make things worse in the long run. Do you want me to leave to let you cry it out?"
You instantly shake your head no, grabbing his hand on instinct before he could even think about leaving. Being alone sounded terrifying. Being alone meant all you'd have were these awful thoughts. Who knows what happened to you while you were unconscious? Maybe you were kidnapped. Maybe it was so traumatic your brain just blocked it out. Maybe you don't want those memories back.
I wish I didn't remember anything at all. Then I wouldn't be hurting so much.
I wish I could go home.
Will Takami abandon me too?
I miss my home.
How are my loved ones handling it?
Are they okay?
What happened to my home?
Takami gently pulls you into a hug, sensing that you desperately needed something to ground you right now. He rubs your back lightly, murmuring that it would be okay. He just keeps murmuring words of encouragement and reassurance.
It doesn't seem to matter how many times he repeats them, you can't bring yourself to believe any of it.
When you've reached the point your tears simply couldn't fall anymore, you feel a wave of exhaustion hit you. Takami smiles melancholicly. "I'll handle it from here, okay? Just get some rest," he says softly. You manage to stubbornly shake your head 'no', afraid of being left behind.
"I won't leave, I promise. But if you're worried, you can stick with me," he offers, holding out his hand.
You take it without hesitation, just as you had when he first found you.
You weren't certain of much right now, but you were certain you did not to be separated from his side.
After what feels like an eternity of waiting, your thoughts echoing dully in your head while Takami conversed in japanese with the officers coming and going, he finally says it's time to leave.
It's only when you're walking out and he seems to be preparing to pick you up that your brain registers his main mode of transportation was flying. However, at this point, you couldn't bring yourself to care that much. Your dignity was already in tatters as is, and he'd already seen you crying like a baby. So, you let him pick you up, and just close your eyes as you resign yourself to being carried around like a child.
You feel a rush of air as Takami takes off, and you hastily grab ahold of him tighter.
It was definitely an odd sensation, flying through the air without anything between you and the sky. Was this how birds felt?
Eventually, curiosity gets the better of you, and you peek out from between his arms to look down. You're torn between a mix of instant regret when you're hit by vertigo, and a sensation of pure awe. You only manage to look a little longer, before going back to burying your head in his chest with your eyes shut.
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Takami lands inside his penthouse, lightly kicking the floor-to-ceiling window shut behind him. He looks down at you in his arms, sighing quietly to himself to avoid waking you.
Your exhaustion got the better of you at some point, and you'd drifted off in his arms. He carefully adjusts his grip, walking to his room. He debates for a moment, before opting to lay you on a chair first. You hadn't noticed in your dissociated state, but you hadn't been wearing any shoes, leaving your feet scraped up—much like your hands. He didn't said anything earlier as he'd flown you to the station, and the interior of the station didn't have anything you could step on that would hurt you. But it seemed that, either before waking up or while standing up after, you'd managed to cut yourself.
He carefully cleans and dresses your wounds, although he only treats anything visible. Your clothing wasn't stained with blood, and you hadn't been limping or shown any signs of major injury. He doesn't dare risk making you uncomfortable, or breaking your trust. Mostly.
He unlocks your phone using your face ID, going back to the webpage about 'My Hero Academia'. He'd already changed into sweatpants and a lose shirt, having also dug out a notepad and pen to take notes. The first thing he does is change your settings so that your phone won't shut off without using the power button. After that, he observes the charging port, attempting to discern if there was anything he could use that would charge the phone.
Much to his relief, using the wireless charger that you set your phone atop works. Satisfied that your phone wouldn't die on him or lock him out, he settles himself in to begin researching and strategising on how to handle this future you'd mentioned. He has to resist the temptation to look through anything else on your phone, or checking news sites from your world to get a better grasp of where you came from. He'd noticed a few apps when opening it of course, and while he made a mental note on them, he didn't open anything other than your browser.
While researching, he finds himself glancing back towards his room occasionally where you lay sleeping. He'd left one of his feathers inside, so he'd know if you were in danger. He wasn't terribly concerned about a villain breaking into his home, but he was concerned about your mental state. You'd just lost everything, and based on the way you'd progressively been retreating into yourself through the course of the night, he knew your mental state was fragile at best. He didn't dare risk you harming yourself.
When he found himself getting overwhelmed or stuck on the information presented through your phone, he turned to mentally going through a list of trustworthy people he could entrust you to. He knew, realistically, he wouldn't be able to get much time off from hero duty. He wouldn't be able to watch you 24/7 either, and he knew leaving you alone was a bad idea at the moment.
He's internally kicking himself for not connecting more with other pro heroes and being such a workaholic, since now he was struggling to come up with anyone suitable. So, he turns to the 'character' list, scrolling through and creating a list of potential candidates. From there, he cross references their traits with the information he accessed on his phone utilising the Hero Public Safety Commission database.
There's two people that catch his eye in particular. Aizawa Shota, and Todoroki Shoto. While the pro-hero turned teacher could be a good mentor and stable presence, it could also be beneficial to have Endeavor's son around as someone closer to your age and as a friend. Takami winds up deciding to contact both of them. It wouldn't be healthy to have you isolated and relying solely on him. You'd need both a stable presence to keep you grounded, along with someone your age to allow you to be more comfortable attending school. It was still summer, so he'd use this time to have Aizawa and Todoroki teach you about and help you integrate into this world.
Takami had already decided to have you enroll at U.A. college—he knew you'd be able to get closer to the hero students than he ever could. He was counting on the fact that you were a fan of the series enough in your world to want to interact with the people representing the characters from it. After all, the future class 1-A would become crucial players. Right now, they'd all be incoming students this fall. You didn't have a quirk, so he'd have you enroll in the general studies class, 1-C. Shinso Hitoshi would be present, another crucial figure for the future. Satisfied with the plan outline he came up, he returns to researching more about the future of his world. He was in for yet another long night.
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A/N: Not sure how long I'll continue with updates that come quicker than the scheduled biweekly updates, so enjoy them while they last. I have lots of ideas for future characters, but right now I'm going to take the time to flesh out a select few relationships. Rest assured, dear readers, there will be more character interactions to come! But for now, you can expect the next few chapters to revolve around only a handful of characters. I also switched up to have Takami's perspective for a bit, since I find it fun to take a peek into the mindset of others from time to time. It can be a bit repetitive keeping things focused only on one character, in my opinion.
Side note, either the AO3 curse already got me or it's my own continuous curse of anytime I have finals/midterms I manage to either get sick or get my period. Right now I have 1. wry neck (aka torticollus—be careful how you sleep kids), 2. a nasty cold that's preventing me from sleeping because my nose won't quit attempting to run away, and 3. my period. Why. I'm almost tempted to write a sick-fic for my own comfort. Also I think I'm losing my voice and my only class the next two days is Chinese, where 99% of the time the only thing you do is practice speaking.
Beta @ivory-dragon: Hey, you said you'd keep it to just these two fics for now. Don't make me come over there and hit you with a pillow for starting another! (If you finish it in one sitting I might be amenable…. MIGHT BE. I've still got my eyes on you!)
Summary: you're a student at Teyvat University, and you (understandably) get lost on your way to class and are late. Unfortunately for you, your professor skipped over the syllabus and got straight into a lecture. More fortunately for you, you wind up sitting down right next to your GA, Albedo. Joining his office hours to catch up on what you missed, you find yourself dropping in more even when you don't need help.
Chapter Word Count: 1.7k
Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Next Chapter
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The next week, you well and truly have no excuse to go to Albedo's office hours. No homework you need help on, no reading to catch up with—not in this class, at least. So, you don't go, but continue to sit in your regular seat next to him. By the third week of the semester, Albedo surprises you by saying something about it.
"Do you find me difficult to approach?" he asks out of the blue, before class has begun.
You furrow your brows, confused. "No. Why?" you prod.
He sighs softly. "I fear, outside of you that first week of class, no one has attended my office hours. Perhaps they find me intimidating. I've been told I'm difficult to approach by peers before."
"I don't think that's it," you reply immediately. "Maybe they just don't need help?"
He gives you a mildly exasperated look, muttering lowly that "their grades say otherwise."
You can't help but snort in amusement, before pausing to consider what he said more seriously. You know most people were reluctant to take advantage of office hours at the best of times, regardless of if they had scheduling conflicts or not. "Perhaps they have a scheduling conflict? Maybe you could survey the class on if you should change your office hours? You could also add a few other times? One of my previous GA's did that," you say, contemplating what had prompted you to visit before.
"Or perhaps it's because there's no sections, so they don't really know you. You aren't speaking in lecture like the professor, and you aren't conversing with them in smaller sections for discussions," you continue.
"…I suspect that is the likely culprit," he agrees after mulling over your words. "People are less likely to approach someone they don't know for help."
"I could… put in a good word for you if anyone brings up needing help?" you offer tentatively, feeling embarrassed and rather ridiculous immediately after doing so.
It's worth it when he smiles softly. "It wouldn't hurt," he agrees, and you can't help but smile back, pleased you could cheer him up a bit.
"Does that mean you'd give me a satisfactory rating on my help?" he muses.
"Indeed it does," you confirm with a slight, amused smirk.
"Hm, I wasn't certain as you stopped attending," he admits casually.
"Wha- no no! I just, honestly haven't been able to come up with something I need help with," you explain hurriedly. "But our time together was extremely helpful. Oh! And I've been using your note taking strategy you mentioned—it's been a total lifesaver!" you add, your eyes sparkling with excitement as you recall how much easier notes had been because of it.
He smiles warmly. "Glad to hear it," he murmurs as the professor clears their throat to begin the lecture.
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"…ugh, how did I manage to choose two classes with insane amounts of reading?" you mutter to yourself as you scroll through Canvas, looking at your upcoming assignments. You mentally catalogue them in order of importance, particularly by due date and the professor's leniency with late work.
Albedo glances over at your muttering, frowning in disapproval as he catches you using your computer for something other than classwork. He decides to give you a few minutes to see if you'll go back on task, but when you don't, he speaks up.
"…I can't help but notice you don't appear to be paying attention," Albedo murmurs to you.
You stiffen, caught red-handed. "Ahaha… sorry," you murmur back, embarrassed and a little ashamed. You quickly switch tabs over to your lecture notes, resuming focus.
At the end of the class, while gathering his things, Albedo clears his throat lightly.
"If you need assistance with other classes, I cannot gaurantee to be the best of help, but I will certainly be able to provide assistance with managing course loads and ensuring you avoid falling behind," he offers.
You perk up. You doubted this was an offer a GA would regularly make, but you certainly weren't complaining. Perhaps it's because no one else attends his office hours, so he has the time—and a clear desire to be productive with that time.
You smile at him, nodding. "Yeah, that would actually be great, thanks," you reply.
"Of course. It is my job as an assistant to do what I can to ensure you succeed in this course. That includes working with you to overcome obstacles outside of this class," he says, finishing gathering up his things before waiting patiently for you. You follow suit, standing up to follow him once you've slung your bag over your shoulder.
Inside his office, he begins by going over your upcoming assignments with you, including any reading you need do. After that, he checks your notes on the reading for this class to see if your strategy needed further coaching. A small smile tugs on his lips as he sees you took his words to heart and had followed his advice from your prior visit.
"Alright. I'd like to know how much time you spend, on average, studying a day," he says, waiting expectantly.
Oh shit.
You grimace, looking away guiltily. You knew the culprit was, like always, procrastination.
"It's alright if you procrastinate, or struggle to focus for extended periods of time," Albedo says, as if reading your mind.
"I can give you some tips on combatting it, if you'd like," he adds.
You purse your lips, still feeling rather ashamed, but nod. He smiles, pleased you're willing to work on it. "If it is procrastination you struggle with, I recommend you begin by writing down the time you began studying—or, at least, intending to—and the time you finish. Within that timeframe, use a stopwatch to time how long you actually get work done, and pause it anytime you do something else. Including eating, or other forms of breaks. Comparing that can help put into perspective how long a task actually takes, versus how long you think it will take," he explains.
"Another thing to do is to pick a drink you enjoy, and begin having it almost exclusively while studying. It helps create a positive connotation with studying, as opposed to anxiety or dread—which is the underlying cause for procrastination. It will also help boost your mood and motivation. Personally, I enjoy a nice cup of peppermint tea with some added honey and lemon," he continues.
You nod, mentally sifting through various options, trying to land on a drink you wouldn't mind having everyday and already frequently have.
"Why peppermint with honey and lemon?" you ask, trying to continue the conversation as you mentally debate your options.
"Originally, I had peppermint tea as it's quite popular in my country and was always available in our household. Although, I found that the peppermint alone was rather… unpleasant, but I enjoyed it with lemon. I never thought about adding honey until my little sister insisted upon it at her tea parties. She's convinced something cannot taste good without a sufficient amount of sweetness," he replies, a soft, fond smile on his lips at the memory.
"…cute," you murmur, before blushing when you realise you said it aloud. You quickly clear your throat and continue, hoping he didn't hear you. "How old is your sister?"
"She'll be turning 7 this year."
You smile a bit, imagining Albedo at a child's tea party, probably surrounded by stuffed animals as the other guests. You tell him a bit about your family in return, recalling your own childhood antics of mixing various liquids together to try and discover the next best flavour. It was either that, or the goal was to somehow brew a potion.
He raises an eyebrow at the mention of potions. "So… you attempted alchemy in your childhood?" he asks, amused.
"Well, I wouldn't say I was quite sophisticated enough to call it anything that fancy. It was more along the lines of throwing a bunch of things together and hoping something interesting would happen," you clarify.
A smirk appears on his lips at your words, with him no doubt imagining such a thing. "I've found myself rather intrigued by the history of alchemy. One could argue it's the roots of modern science, in a way. Did you know many foundational instruments of science were designed by alchemists? They also pioneered the experimental method. Alchemy laid the foundation for modern chemistry. It's truly fascinating, and I enjoy studying it in my free time."
"Really?" you ask, surprised. You'd never have guessed, since your mind always went to the futile task of turning lead to gold.
"In fact, modern scientists actually have managed to turn lead into gold," Albedo continues, causing your eyes to widen even further. "Although it hardly lasted very long, and the amount of effort for the amount produced was not worth it in the slightest. Still, it's quite inspiring to know something once seen as impossible, as nothing more than a foolish dream, has now been achieved. It's a reminder that everything was impossible at some point, and that magic is simply science we have yet to understand. This belief is what led me to pursue a master's in chemistry. I suppose that makes me a modern alchemist. After all, the word 'chemistry' derives from the word 'alchemy'," he muses, his smirk returning.
"…huh. That… that's really interesting," you say, too surprised to really formulate a better response. "I mean, I completely understand that philosophy. I myself use it as inspiration to continue to push myself to achieve new things. I mean, if everyone believed anything that hasn't been done is impossible, no one would accomplish anything new. The world would be completely stagnant," you add quickly, not wanting to sound as if you hadn't been paying attention.
"Indeed," Albedo agrees.
Throughout the remainder if your time together, your mind keeps wandering back to what he said about his sister, and his interest in alchemy. You'd been sure to uphold your due diligence and take notes on all his recommendations and advice for your various classes, of course. But, it was nice being able to also discuss more casual things, and get to know him better on a personal level.
You wonder if you'll be able to learn more next time as well.
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A/N: My favourite study drink is hot chocolate, personally. Not a big coffee or tea drinker, I'm not a fan of anything bitter .-. Personally, I don't think Albedo would enjoy coffee either. My first instinct was peppermint tea, since mint is like the only thing that grows on Dragonspine—and, after a bit of research, it turns out to be one of the favourite varieties in Germany. So, now my headcannon is that one of Albedo's favourite drink is peppermint tea. I figured he originally added lemon for the flavour, since he wasn't the largest fan of it by itself. When Klee started having him do tea parties with her, she refused to drink any tea that wasn't sufficiently sweet, and nagged Albedo to add honey to his tea as well. Now he just continues out of habit. Also, I've unironically had teachers plead for students to visit their office hours because no one does, which is where the idea behind this chapter came from. I figured that while Albedo wouldn't beg, he would get restless and feel frustrated if he was wasting time.
Fun fact, while looking up how to spell 'lead', I discovered that scientists actually managed to transform it into gold (which APPARENTLY my beta reader KNEW ABOUT ALREADY): https://home.cern/alice-detects-conversion-lead-gold-lhc/
I went down a bit of a rabbit hole with the whole 'modern alchemy' and 'roots of chemistry' thing. As Albedo says, it's truly fascinating, and I highly recommend researching it if you enjoy medieval history or the foundations of modern science.
If anyone is interested in more about how alchemy has contributed to modern chemistry, you can read more here (although it's pretty brief): https://chem.libretexts.org/Bookshelves/Introductory_Chemistry/Introductory_Chemistry_(CK-12)/01%3A_Introduction_to_Chemistry/1.03%3A_Alchemy
Beta Reader (@ivory-dragon): I'm disappointed in myself for not telling you the moment I learned they made lead into gold because I've known for a while now. Regardless, lovely writing again. Maybe don't be so sick again. The little spelling errors was worse this time.
A/N: I wasn't sick when writing where there were spelling errors, but we'll blame it on that anyway.
Beta: I suppose that works. SCREW YOU SICKNESS! There :D
A/N: I also woke up with a sideways head. Beware of wry neck folks. Do not sleep on overly fluffy pillows. You have been warned.
Art by unknown (comment with their @ if you recognise them!)
Summary: Congratulations! You have been transmigrated to your favourite world full of deadly villains, quirks, and silly little guys! Even luckier for you, you get thrown in a few months before the main plot begins! All you have to do now is make sure to save everyone who dies and/or gets horribly mutilated. Good luck!
A/N: I'm not trying to follow the entire plot to a T here, and I'm using the excuse that the reader derails said plot therefore it doesn't matter and I can do what I want. This will be a college AU-which essentially means that literally everything is the same, but just shove everyone up into college age/level. So, instead of the students in class 1-A being 15, everyone will be 18 (or older, if I feel like head-cannoning they got held back-looking at you Kaminari) at the beginning of the story. Also, I will add trigger warnings that pertain to any specific chapter in the notes at the START of every chapter. If there isn't any triggers that apply to a chapter, then there won't be anything mentioned.
Next Chapter
Chapter Word Count: 2.7k
Trigger warnings: insinuation of sexual assault and trafficking (neither of these things actually occur, but they are referenced)
Comment to be added to taglist :)
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A/N: So while I SAID I'd be only writing one story at a time, this one was actively trying to claw its way into (and subsequently out of) my head. Relentlessly. So. Here we are. Fun fact—I have an oversized t-shirt of Hawks and wear it to sleep, 10/10 hella comfy (you can guess why he found the reader first).
Playlist: no writer's playlist because my music acted much like the reader's train of thought and went off track
Beta reader: @ivory-dragon
Beta here: do I know this fandom? No. Is this still amazing? Yes. Do I have any notes? No. No notes, only great writing and fun times :D
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…something's wrong.
…where am I?
…why is everything so dark?
"…お.."
Who is that?
"…くそ…安定している…えますか？"
It's so loud.
"…きろ…意識を失った民…路地…"
What are they saying?
You jolt as you suddenly register someone holding your shoulder, your eyes blinking open. You immediately wince, reflexively shielding them. Or, at least you should be shielding. Your hand isn't moving the way it should. It's slow and sluggish, like it's leaded down by whatever is clogging up your thoughts.
What's happening?
What's wrong with me?
Am I okay?
"—えますか? 大丈夫だよ。私の名前はたかみけいご。"
Your eyes slowly focus as you try to move away from whoever was holding your shoulder. While your movements are sluggish, the stranger must've sensed your discomfort, and retracts their hand. However, they hover over you, concerned.
"明るすぎますか？"
You realise whatever lightsource was assaulting you has suddenly dimmed, blocked by their body. With your eyes adjusting better now, you're able to look up and get a vague sense of the person above you. They looked to be a man in their early twenties, with ashy blonde hair, golden-brown eyes and their deep red…
Wings? Wings. Actual bird wings, shifting behind him. They're the brightest pop of colour present aside from his yellow glasses. The man cocks this head as he sees you staring at his wings. He watches you blink, slowly bringing up one of your hands to rub your eyes. As you do, you realise it's covered in grit, and stop raising it about halfway to your eyes to just stare. You turn it over, noting you appear to be scraped up a bit. You raise your other hand to inspect it as well, furrowing your brows in confusion.
"私の言っている…？"
You faintly register the man's voice in the background, but all the blood is rushing to your ears. Something was wrong. Very wrong.
You don't even realise you're beginning to hyperventilate until the man hesitantly reaches out, checking for your reaction. You recoil instinctively.
He frowns, before glancing back at his wings, pondering for a moment. He reaches one out next, instead of his hand.
It baffles you so much you find yourself absentmindedly stroking the feathers before your brain even registers the sheer audacity of your action. You blink, taken aback and mildly horrified at your rudeness. You'd ignored everything this person said—what were they even saying?—and just touched them at the first chance you got. Actually, were they even a person?
You can hear a slightly strained and relieved laugh as the man notes you slowly coming back to your senses, if only from your sudden social awareness.
"えっ、そんなに柔らかいの？" he asks teasingly. You just stare blankly.
Furrowing his brows, he tries again. "私の言っていることがわかりますか？"
"…w…what?" you finally, finally manage to find your voice. It's a little thing, but it's still a win.
His eyes widen in shock. "You don't speak Japanese," he says flatly, sighing and running a hand through his hair. "くそ。"
It doesn't take a genius to realise he's cursing, even if you can't understand it.
"N-no, should I?" you ask tentatively.
He side-eyes you, before taking a deep breath. He crouches down in front of you, still frowning.
"Do you know where you are?" he asks.
You shake your head no.
"Do you know your name?"
You nod, slowly offering it. He nods, repeating it carefully to ensure he got it right. You give a small nod of confirmation when he does.
"Okay. That's something. Where do you last remember being?" he prompts again.
You reply with the city you lived in. He just stares at you, before quickly pulling out his phone and typing something. He gives you a funny look. "Can you repeat that?" he asks.
You do, and he frowns heavily. "…not there… right…" he mutters, pocketing his phone. "How old are you?"
You reply dutifully, growing more concerned as he seems to be growing agitated.
"Sorry, but- what's wrong?" you ask.
He forces himself to relax a bit as he sees the spike of fear in your expression, and in the way you tense. "I'm sure it's just because there's bad cell service here, but I can't seem to find where you're from," he assures you, smiling wryly. "Don't worry about it. Can you tell me which country you live in?"
You nod, telling him. Much to your relief, he actually recognises the name, and seems to similarly grow relieved. "Alright. It's probably nothing, then. Do you know how you got here? Are you a tourist?" he prompts.
You shake your head. Your eyes keep flicking to his wings now that it seems like you had confirmation your home country existed. He seemed really famili- oh.
"Hawks?" you ask, before you can stop yourself. You grow flustered, feeling absolutely ridiculous. This was probably just a cosplayer, and they'd laugh at your poor, deluded, confused state.
"Oh? You recognise me? That's good. Yes, I'm Hawks. But you can just call me Takami, okay?" he prompts, brushing off his hero name and the status that followed.
"Ta…kami?" you repeat, your eyes widening.
"That's- that's your name? Like, you're actual name?" you ask, growing a bit panicked.
He shoots you an odd look. "…yeah? Why wouldn't it be? What, do you only know my hero name-"
"Oh my god-" you hide your face in your hands. "What the hell is happening?" you mutter.
Takami gives you some space, sensing you're radically coming to terms with your current situation. But he could tell something was off. At first, you'd been almost bewildered to see him, then relieved, then… afraid?
"…am I making you uncomfortable?" he asks softly after a minute.
"Wh- oh! N-no! I mean- I just-" your brain unhelpfully decides to stop forumulating complete thoughts at that moment, "I- fuck!" you curse, unable to formulate much else.
"Hey, hey… it's okay. Take your time," he murmurs reassuringly. "I'm sure this must be confusing for you. Don't try to force anything, you'll only get a headache."
He wasn't wrong. You'd felt one coming on for a while now, one that intensified the longer you tried to figure out what happened.
"I… I'm sorry…" you mutter, sighing.
"What are you apologising for? Cursing? Fuck, I curse all the time~" he assures you, laughing easily.
Despite yourself, you can't help but feel a small smile tug on your lips. Taking that as a positive sign, Takami asks if he could sit next to you. You nod, and he plops right down on the ground covered in god-knows-what without a second thought. One of his wings partially moves behind your back, serving almost as a shield from the world.
"…where am I?" you finally ask.
"Fukuoka, Japan," he replies. You stiffen.
"…oh," you let out breathlessly.
"Not from around here, huh?" he muses, trying to keep things lighthearted.
"…no," you mutter, pulling your knees up to your chest.
"…you said… my city-"
"Don't worry about that right now," he cuts you off before you could begin questioning what he meant earlier. "Let's focus on where we are right now. Can you tell me what you see right now?"
"Huh?" you blink, confused, looking at him. He just looks back, expectantly. "Um… you?"
He breaks out into a dazzling grin. "What else?"
"Your… eyes? They're, um, amber? Golden? And, um, I- …I see your goggles. They're really yellow. Why are they yellow? Doesn't that make the world look yellow? Is that even helpful?" you ask, furrowing your brows in confusion.
"It filters out blue light, so it reduces haziness while enhancing contrast and sharpening depth perception. You know, to give me hawk-eyes," he explains with a smirk, tapping the goggles. "Gotta live up to my name somehow."
You can't help but let out a small, incredulous laugh that that was what let him 'live up to' his name. "Really? Not the wings?" you ask, your own smirk tugging on your lips.
"What, these? Nah, they're just for decoration," he replies, fluffing up the feathers and posing them dramatically, causing you to really laugh this time. His features soften as he smiles more genuinely.
"You sure seem to like them," he teases, "can't keep your eyes off them."
"Ack- I'm sorry! I just, haven't seen anything like them before! I mean, I've seen birds before of course- fuck, I mean, that was really insulting wasn't it? Not that they're like bird wings! Wait, no, I mean- I don't know what I mean," you give up, surrendering to the fact you were making a fool of yourself while hanging your head in defeat.
He bursts out laughing at your flustered rambling. "Ahahahaha! I don't think I've ever heard that they aren't like bird wings. Mostly that they look like a robin's, not a hawk's," he chuckles, shaking his head in amusement.
"I didn't mean-!" you sputter, mortified.
"Relax~ I'm just teasing you," he says, the wing behind you gently bumping up against your shoulder and causing you to jump.
"…you can tell me anything, you know. I won't judge you for what you've gone through. I promise," Takami says eventually.
You'd fallen into a comfortable (ish) silence, while you'd gotten completely lost in thoughts of where you were and what to do.
"I've seen plenty as a hero. Some people think victims are just of physical violence, but… that's not true, is it?" he prompts softly.
You freeze. Oh. Oh.
"Are you saying…?" you ask, blinking rapidly. "But- but that can't- no, no I was at home. I was home- this isn't even real, I'm going to wake up, and I'll be in my bed, and- and-"
He looks at you with pity as your breathing speeds up, your heart moving from racing to pounding. Without saying anything, he slowly wraps one wing around you. He's mindful of your body language, ready to pull away the moment you seem uncomfortable.
You must be craving even the slightest hint of familiarity, because you find yourself leaning into his touch. He uses his wing to pull you closer to his side, wrapping one arm around you as well, letting it all wash over you.
This can't be real. There's just no way. My Hero Academia. In the flesh. Is it even really in the flesh? I mean, Hawks is— what does that even matter?! Nope, no way, this is a dream. Let me just pinch myself—
Takami grabs your wrist before you can follow through on that thought, staring into your eyes with concern. "What did you say? 'My Hero Academia'? Why do you think this is a dream?"
Your eyes widen. Shit— that wasn't just said in my head?!
"…you're still speaking," he replies.
You look around nervously. You had to snap out of it and think. Worst case scenario, yes, this was real. No way in hell were you about to let yourself get taken advantage of or screwed over. But you weren't good at keeping such reality-altering secrets.
You find yourself staring at Takami's wings again as your thoughts drift. Then it hits you.
His wings. They could essentially act as his ears. Which meant you could just cup your hands around them and be certain no other technology would hear what you said—and you could never be certain he wasn't wearing an earpiece and microphone or something. He probably was, to communicate with the police.
He shifts his wings a bit as he sees you staring at them. Before you can talk yourself out of it, you ask if you can hold one of his feathers. He would normally refuse, but the look on your face, combined with the odd scenario, was enough for him to be willing to give anything a chance if it meant he'd get more information.
You take a deep breath as you cup the small feather he passed you in your hands. You do a quick mental hype up, before just going for it, leaning in to hold your cupped hands around your mouth like a seal and whispering to the feather.
"I know this is going to sound crazy, but I'm not sure what else to do. I don't think- no, I know I'm not from this world. Reality, even. Where I come from, this place is fictional. An anime, or manga, stuff like that. You are- were- a character. I'm not sure, I mean I think you and this world are separate from whatever stories existed in mine, but still- um! I can prove it, I, uh, can maybe probably sort of predict the future! You still have your quirk, so- so that means that there's still stuff that has yet to happen I know about. Oh! The Hero Safety Commission! You're a spy for them! Um, it's why I'm using your wings to talk to you- oh this sounds so stupid— um because I don't want them to know I know because they sound really scary-"
You keep rambling on somewhat incoherently as Takami sits there, processing everything you're saying. You were right about one thing, it was smart to use his feather to talk to him instead of just talking normally. The Commission would've overheard otherwise. He purses his lips, before holding a hand to his lips in a gesture for you to be silent for a moment. He puts a hand to his ear, cluing you in that there was an earpiece within.
"一旦オフラインになります。後で詳しく話しますね。彼らは怖がってきている、" he says to whoever is on the other end. With that, Takami takes out and promptly destroys his earpiece.
"You can speak freely now," he says.
"Wh-what did you just do?!" you ask, panicked. "Won't you get in trouble?"
"Don't worry about it," he shrugs off your concern, "just explain more about what you know about me, and the Commission. As much as I'd love to write you off as crazy, you don't speak Japanese, you're clearly disoriented, and I sincerely doubt you just magically guessed or somehow had ascertained my history from anywhere on this world. So, I'll give you the benefit of the doubt. For now."
The way he says that makes it clear there will be repercussions if you were lying, or otherwise were not on his side. After all, you could jeopardise everything he'd worked for.
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As it turns out, your phone transmigrated with you (you fell asleep holding onto it). And, by the power of plot device, it actually worked. So, you were able to pull up the fandom wikipedia page on him, and on the story as a whole. You just let him read through it. He furrows his brows as he reads about how he loses his quirk, but shakes it off. He could learn more about that later.
"Alright. You're coming with me," he says, standing up. He offers you a hand, which you accept without thinking much about it.
"I'll keep your phone somewhere safe, okay?" he prompts after pulling you to your feet.
You frown. "But-"
"Listen, I'm sure there's things you don't want me to see on it. Relax. I can't even unlock it without you. Which is why, like I said, you're coming with me. Of course, that's not the only reason. You know too much about me, I know too little about you, and we collectively know too little about how you got here. We don't know what, or who, did this to you. Besides, you hardly have anyplace to go. I found you, so, you're my responsibility now. Even if you're legally an adult," he adds before you can protest you didn't need to be babysat.
You pause, contemplating. You take a deep breath. "…okay. I'm trusting you. Please… don't betray that," you plead softly.
He was all you had. You'd risked everything just telling him this, but you felt like he was the only person who'd know how to navigate living life and going around with such a massive secret. It was fortunate he was the one who found you.
He softens a bit, smiling melancholically at you. "I won't, if you don't give me a reason to."
Summary: you're a student at Teyvat University, and you (understandably) get lost on your way to class and are late. Unfortunately for you, your professor skipped over the syllabus and got straight into the lecture. More fortunately for you, you wind up sitting down right next to your GA, Albedo. Joining his office hours to catch up on what you missed, you find yourself dropping in more even when you don't need help.
Ch. 1 | Next chapter
Chapter Word Count: 1.9k
Comment to be added to taglist!
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During your second lecture, you're rather pleased with yourself for actually making it on time without getting lost. Without even thinking about it, you sit down in the same spot again. That's when you notice Albedo has done the same.
"Good afternoon," he greets politely. "I take it you found your way easier this time?"
You nod, smiling at him lightly. "Yeah, I think I'm managing to navigate this labyrinth a bit better," you joke.
He lets out a barely audible huff of amusement. "Pleased to hear it. I suppose you won't be in need of my assistance then," he muses.
You bite your tongue. You wanted to say that no, you did still need his assistance. Even if you weren't sure what he'd be helping with yet. "…I don't know," you reply quietly. "Perhaps… we could discuss the reading further? I struggled to go through all of it before class," you add.
It was hardly a lie. You'd been so busy with your other coursework that you'd only been able to skim the reading, and were rather stressed about doing it now. It felt like you were falling behind already.
"Of course," he agrees, smiling reassuringly at you. "It can take some adjusting. Sometimes it's difficult to understand what needs to be noted and what doesn't."
You nod, feeling better already. It was always a headache trying to figure out the correct balance of whether your notes were too much or too little. Especially since it depended on how specific your professors chose to be with tests. You still remember open-note quizzes that pulled from the most obscure and seemingly inconsequential portions of reading for some courses. Since you had yet to take a test in this class, it was difficult to gauge exactly how much you needed to dissect the text and copy into your notes.
Class begins, and you quickly focus on the lecture and your notes. You notice Albedo also appears to be writing things down, despite being a GA. You assume it's to be able to better help students who missed class, as you recall his disdain with the teacher for refusing to post lecture slides. How thoughtful, you think to yourself. After all, it was the reason you didn't need to worry about having been late to the first lecture anymore.
By the time the lecture ends, you're satisfied with your notes on the class, shutting your laptop and gathering your things as you ready yourself to follow Albedo. You pause, recalling that his office hours didn't officially start until next week. While he'd been kind enough to fill you in on the lecture parts you'd missed last class, there was no reason to expect him to make yet another exception for going over some mere reading.
You offer him a smile and wave as you pass by, intending to go head to a quieter place on campus to work on catching up on said reading. Much to your surprise, he calls after you, "Did change your mind?"
You turn around, blinking a bit. "I- no, I just thought… um, don't your office hours start next week?" you ask meekly.
A small smile graces his lips. "Officially, yes. However, I made sure to leave the time open this week as well, in case any students required assistance earlier on," he explains.
His thoughtfulness crosses your mind again, and you can't help but smile back softly in return. "That's incredibly kind of you. Then yes, I'll gladly take advantage of the opportunity. I appreciate you making time for myself and the other students," you say gratefully.
You wait for him to catch up, before falling into step next to him. "What made you be a graduate assistant?" you ask curiously, trying to make small talk to avoid your thoughts from wandering too far.
"Hm… there are a few reasons. I found myself tutoring students outside of class last year, although I didn't ask for compensation. This year, my mentor advised me to try being a graduate assistant. I'd continue to do much of the same, although now I also grade students' work and get paid a stipend. I also get a waiver of tuition costs," he explains. He hesitates for a moment, glancing over at you as he contemplates something. "…I also believed it would be a good way to better connect with people. I don't often do many social activities, and my mentor strongly encouraged me to be more social. It would be more accurate to say they threatened to withdraw funding for my tuition if I didn't have some sort of social activity, and I decided being a graduate assistant was less tedious than joining a student club."
You blink. At first, when he said 'mentor' you assumed he meant a college councilor. You're not entirely sure what kind of mentor would fund someone's college. Perhaps someone who was investing in a good employee? It was difficult to wrap your head around. You can't help but smirk a bit.
"Student clubs… there are so many on campus, it's rather overwhelming when they constantly advertise them. I've also recently been pushed to join a social club, rather than just a club or group that revolved around school work or career paths," you muse, thinking back to the times you've been encouraged to do the same. You've been more focused on school than anything else lately, and subsequently have been neglecting social activities and hobbies. It was almost relieving to hear you weren't the only one. "I tried out one, although I'm not really sure how I feel about it yet."
"I visited an art club once. It was quite… boisterous," Albedo recalls with a slight grimace. "I don't understand how anyone could concentrate with all that noise. I prefer working in solitude, and in a quieter environment where I can focus properly."
You hum lightly as you consider his words. "I don't know, I feel like that might be a good environment for sparking creativity and ideas. Depending on the person, of course. Sometimes, when I'm stuck on something, I'll go badger one of my friends to bounce ideas off of them. I think it helps me to be able to actually convey my thoughts and almost think them through fully, in a way. If I have an incomplete idea, talking about it can help me finish it," you reply.
He tilts his head, pondering. "Perhaps. The people I know would be more likely to cut me off than actually listen, so I don't believe that would be particularly effective," he says.
You frown slightly. "Yeah, I guess not. My friends must have the patience of saints to be able to tolerate all my rambling and only interject with occasional clarifying questions. That's probably why it works, it's more of a freeflow of thoughts that gets more structured through their inqueries."
You continue your light conversation until you reach his office, where you switch over to the topic of today's reading.
"How do you normally take notes?" he asks to start.
You pause, frowning as you try to think about it. You give your best explanation, pulling up a tab from today's lecture notes to show him. He hums lightly.
"For reading notes, it's best to set limits to avoid merely copying the text. I recommend limiting yourself to one bullet point per paragraph, at the absolute maximum. Of course, this depends on the reading, so making judgement calls is important as well. It's easy to get caught up in fretting over what must be written down, leaving people to often forget considering what doesn't need to be written down. Putting a hard limit makes you learn to condense the text, and is valuable in being able to convey large amounts of information in shorter amounts of time. Which is precisely what notes are for," he explains.
You're not sure you've ever thought about it like that before. 'Considering what doesn't need to be written down.' He was right, normally you were so focused on writing down everything that you could possibly be expected to know that you neglected to consider what was unimportant. You purse your lips. The mere idea sounds a little daunting.
As if sensing your trepidation, Albedo asks if he could use your laptop for a moment. You nod, watching as he scrolls through the reading, writing out one bullet point at a time as he patiently explains why he extracted that particular note. "This paragraph largely repeats what was already stated above, so you can cut out the majority of it," he says, "which only leaves you with around a third of it. Since this part here is irrelevant to main theme of the reading, you can cut that out as well. That leaves you with this last quarter, which you can summarise like so," he continues, typing out the bullet point expertly.
You nod slowly as you take in this new information. Asking for your laptop back, you try to replicate what he'd done with the next paragraph. "So… this part… I'd cut out since it's more of an aside than anything substantial," you say hesitantly, not entirely certain if you were correct.
When he doesn't oppose you, you continue. "And here… this part seems to be important," you continue, highlighting a small section of the paragraph. "And I could write it like this…" you write a quick bullet point in your notes.
"Almost," Albedo remarks, giving you an encouraging smile, "I would say you could condense it even further," he adds.
"The notes should be more of a point of reference to jog your memory, so I'd cut this part out since it should be associated with the rest of the bullet point," he explains. "If you're not feeling confident you'll be able to remember that, you can always note the page number where you're reading from to be able to look back on later."
You can't disagree with him. In fact, it would probably make memorisation for tests much easier if you were already doing it as part of the note taking process. Although you weren't entirely sure you were convinced. You continue to practice this notetaking style under Albedo's guidance until he has to leave, at which time you realise with a start it had been nearly half an hour over his already unofficial hours. You quickly scramble to get everything together and head out, not wanting to hold him up any more than you already had.
He doesn't make a big deal about it, in fact he seems rather amused at your panicked scurrying. He offers a brief parting word as you rush off, to which you reply with a 'see you later!' as you speedwalk away. You can hardly believe he'd let you stay so long without so much as a word of complaint.
That night, as you go back over your notes, you're surprised to realise that you don't seem to need to add anything like you'd been intending to do. You hadn't been entirely convinced before of his technique, but you were more willing to believe it now. You decided you'd go ahead and continue using it for the time being when it came to reading notes, while adding in the page numbers to fall back on if you couldn't fully remember something. It would definitely cut down on your time spent reading.
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A/N: True story—I've skipped class to write out notes I'd been procrastinating when they're due to be used for an open-note quiz. Specifically in a class where everything has to be handwritten, and even printed material does not count. So, yes, I highly recommend the technique detailed above, it's saved my butt from far too much time wasted in trying to flip through notes during a test and while actually writing them. Another thing I do is have a separate section where I write down 'key words' along with their definitions. Note taking is personalised to everyone, but as someone who struggles with confidence and perfectionism, I've found this immensely helps me by forcing me to actually understand what I'm reading. You can't condense something without understanding it, after all.
On another note, sometimes I feel like Albedo, because my latest therapy homework has been to join a social circle and get a friend group in college. I can only imagine Alice would nag him constantly about it, and probably sent him to college to do that in the first place. Apparently career-focused clubs don't count. I actually went to a writing club last week, and they helped me flesh out one of my ideas for an original story (sadly, there is no fanfiction writing club). Although, sadly, since I arrived late I missed all the good pizza. As for bouncing ideas off of people, said person 99% of the time is my beta reader. She's dealt with a LOT of rambling on my end about everything from story ideas to random philosophising or even ranting about pet peeves. Bless her and her endless patience. She claims it's entertaining, apparently.
Also—the playlist is the same as used in the last chapter :)
Beta reader: @ivory-dragon
Beta reader here: It's true, I find it quite entertaining XD (don't tell on me that sometimes, only very occasionally, I zone out)
Summary: you're a student at Teyvat University, and you (understandably) get lost on your way to class and are late. Unfortunately for you, your professor skipped over the syllabus and got straight into the lecture. More fortunately for you, you wind up sitting down right next to your GA, Albedo. Joining his office hours to catch up on what you missed, you find yourself dropping in more even when you don't need help.
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Chapter Word Count: 1.9k
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You hate first days of class. Looking down at your phone, you will the damn thing to load faster as the school map continues to stubbornly refuse to update. Letting out a frustrated huff, you swap to your class schedule, scrolling through for the class that had already started—Introduction to Psychology. It had seemed both interesting and useful, but most importantly, it fulfilled one of your core science credits. You figured that better understanding your thoughts would be helpful regardless of what career path you took, so you decided it was the best option out of courses available.
Switching back to your school map, you feel relieved as it finally loads. However, you were still about halfway across campus. You curse under your breath as you pick up the pace a bit to a speed walk. It was probably fine. Most classes just went over the syllabus on the first day anyway.
It takes a while, but you manage to locate the elusive building, only to find yourself in a maze of hallways. As you finally manage to locate your classroom, you do your best to slip quietly inside. It still felt painfully obvious you were 40 minutes late. You duck your head as you opt to grab the closest open seat in the back row, trying not to be too much of a distraction. You frown in dismay as you realise your professor had already launched into a lecture, evidently the type to breeze through the syllabus or expected you to read it beforehand. The person sitting next to you seems to notice your distress, leaning over to softly whisper to you.
"I presume you had trouble finding the classroom?" he muses. You blink, taken aback by how close he'd gotten. Logically, it was to avoid being too loud, but it was a bit flustering as you took in their voice. It was gentle, and soothing. You feel yourself relaxing inadvertently.
"Ah, yes," you admit quietly, "sorry if I was too loud coming in," you add apologetically.
Looking over, you're taken aback by his beauty. He has a heart shaped face silhouetted by ashy blonde hair, pale skin, and striking teal eyes. His brows are furrowed in concern, and a small frown tugs his face. His voice cuts off your distracted thoughts, and staring.
"No need to worry, you weren't too loud," he assures you.
You give a slight nod as you pull out your computer and open it, waiting impatiently for it to boot up. You quickly login, opening up a browser and pulling up a blank document to take notes. He glances over as you wrinkle your nose a bit while you debate if it was even worth taking notes at this point. You were already over halfway through the lecture after all. You don't notice it, but a slight, amused smile tugs on the quirk of his lips.
Something about taking notes without the context of the earlier discussion just didn't sit right with you. You pull up the Canvas, hoping to find lecture slides. You scowl a bit as you find none. You sigh softly in defeat, before forcing yourself to write anyway. Half of the lesson was better than none of the lesson. Hopefully, your teacher would post slides to read later.
Hearing your sigh, the man glances over at you curiously. He tilts his head slightly, realising it was due to missing a significant portion of the lecture. "You can come to my office hours after class," he offers kindly.
"I'll go over the material missed with you. The professor doesn't post slides, despite my best attempts to convince him otherwise for the sake of students who are ill or late," he adds, a slight frown of dissatisfaction on his face.
"Huh?"
It takes your brain a moment to register that must mean he was either a TA or GA. "Oh! Yes, please," you reply gratefully, gratitude rushing through you. "What time are your office hours?"
"They're directly after class," he explains. "I've found that's the best time to review material, while it's still fresh in one's mind."
You nod. You certainly wouldn't complain, because that actually aligned with your schedule for once. Normally, it felt as though your professors conspired against you to have the most inconvenient hours possible.
Class feels as though it drags on forever, your head swimming with confusion due to the missed section of the lecture. Standing up next to you, the man had already gathered his things and waits patiently for you to do the same. "I apologise for not introducing myself earlier. I am Albedo. It's my pleasure to assist you," he says with a small, polite smile.
You feel your heart flutter, but you bat away the butterflies. Now was no time to be distracted by a pretty face, lest your grade suffer when you couldn't bring yourself to focus during his office hours. You introduce yourself hurriedly, feeling rather self-conscious as you try to gather your things quickly, not wanting to keep him waiting. You swing your bag over your shoulder, following behind him as he turns to leave the classroom once he's satisfied you're ready.
Trailing after him, you can better appreciate his appearance for the first time since meeting him. He isn't tall by any means, but carries himself with a quiet, self-assured confidence that makes up for it. His steps are light and graceful, and he easily navigates the other students exiting their classes without so much as the lightest brush against another person. He has his hair pulled halfway up, with two braids connecting into a small ponytail at the back. It falls a bit above his shoulders, drawing your gaze towards his deep navy blue turtleneck sweater. It fits him perfectly, as do his tan dress pants. He has a silver chain hanging off the loops of his pants, clinking softly with every step he takes. A few charms hang off it, one of a four-pointed star, and one of some strange rabbit creature. At least, you think it was a rabbit. It had the ears, but the rest of its body was just a round puffball. It also wore a little red hat, with a clover atop it. It brings a small smile to your face. It seems like such an odd contrast to his otherwise professional attire, but it was cute.
Reaching his office, Albedo holds the door open for you. You thank him as you enter, sitting down in the chair he indicates. He passes by you to sit behind a desk across the way, crossing his legs as he pulls out his laptop and sets it on the table. You do the same, placing your laptop on your lap and pulling up your lecture notes. He turns his screen so you can see it better, walking you through the main points of the lecture step-by-step. You find yourself losing track of the words on the screen as you get lost in his voice. It was almost hypnotic in the way it was simulatenously mellow yet confident. He struck you as humble, a man who knew exactly what he was doing but wasn't the type to brag about it.
You snap out of your daze when Albedo prompts you for if you were paying attention. "Is something on your mind?" he asks, his voice calm rather than accusing.
You flush with embarrassment as you realise you had no idea what he'd been saying up until this point. "Ah- no- well, I just… got a bit distracted," you say, fumbling for words, realising denying it was pointless.
"What is the distraction?" he prompts. "If it's the office-"
"No, no! The office is fine," you assure him quickly, not wanting him to get the wrong idea. "It's just your voice- I mean! Ahem, I…" you pause, taking a deep breath as you push down the embarrassment, "think you have a very nice voice. I suppose I found myself focusing on that more than the actual lecture notes. I apologise, I don't intend on wasting your time or coming across as rude. I'll focus now, I promise," you finish, trying to salvage the situation. There was no point in lying when you'd already clearly stated what the distraction was before you could stop yourself, after all.
You can't tell if Albedo was phased by this or not. His eyes widen just a fraction, and you could swear there's a ghost of a smile before he clears his throat to reply. "I do hope you'll keep that promise," he says firmly.
The embarrassment flares up again at his sternness. You can hardly believe you were so affected by his presence. You mentally shake it off, switching to 'work mode'. It was the same persona you put on while at your job in the time you had outside of school. In 'work mode', nothing could phase you, especially not superficial attraction—unless you wanted to risk getting fired.
You turn your focus to his computer, typing up notes on your own device as you half-listen to him and half-read the words on the his screen. Whenever you find yourself getting distracted again, you put more focus into either his notes or your own. It seems to do the trick, and you finish up the rest of your time together without further incident.
"I'm glad to see my voice did not lull you to sleep," Albedo remarks as you close your laptop. "Although perhaps it lost its appeal?" he adds teasingly.
You start, caught off guard by the teasing. Heat rises to your cheeks. You thought he'd let that go. "Ah, no-" you internally curse as you reflexively try to be polite.
A small smile graces his lips at your denial. "Most people seem to find my speech boring or too monotone, as opposed to pleasant. I don't believe I've been told such a thing before. What made you say it was 'nice'?" he asks, genuinely curious.
"Oh- um-" Why are we talking about this?! you internally scream, "because your voice has a soothing quality to it. You're both calm yet self-assured, which makes it easy to listen and trust what you're saying. It's always nice when someone is able to be confident without being obnoxious."
His only response is a brief 'hm' as he contemplates your words. "Was there anything else you needed before you go?" he asks.
You're grateful for the change in subject, and shake your head no. "No, your explanations were clear and extremely helpful. Thank you for your time, I really appreciate it," you say, smiling warmly. Although, internally, your knee-jerk response was 'your number'. Not that you'd say that aloud. Despite how tempting it was.
You wave goodbye as you leave, and check your phone. Scrolling through the syllabus you missed earlier, you pause as you realise his office hours weren't set to begin until the following week. You can't help but glance back from where you came, struck by his quiet kindness. Smiling to yourself, you move on with your day. All the while, you find yourself thinking that, for the first time, you might just become a regular at office hours.
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A/N: Man, the last time I wrote fanfiction was pre-pandemic, probably back in middle or highschool. I'm in college now, and subsequently all characters have graduated to college AU's with me. Fun fact: this scenario is entirely based on my own lived experiences. I am chronically late on first days of class. I'm convinced some buildings are modeled after the backrooms. We have some buildings on campus that are cobbled together from the original buildings and a modern one slapped onto it—there is literally windows to other walls because they couldn't be bothered to fill them in. Also, professors who refuse to post lecture slides are a scourge on this earth. It's like they WANT people to fail. I get the whole 'not wanting people to feel like they can skip class thing', but what about us good students who suffer the consequences of a sick day? Huh? Smh. That aside, this is a shameless self-insert/indulgent fanfiction, but I did my best to make 'you' be nonbinary and otherwise generalised.
Beta reader: @ivory-dragon
If you want a sneak peak into my mind, here's the playlist I was cooking too:
