This is a direct continuation of "You're only making it worse" and won't make much sense without that.
When Hitoshi wakes up, he feels floaty and sore. His thoughts are sluggish and slow and for a long moment he doesn't know what's going on.
The last time he felt like this was with his old family, after one of their more thorough beatings, but Hitoshi is pretty sure that he's out, that he's no longer with them, so why is he feeling like that?
He somehow manages to turn his head to the side, blearily checking if he's still in the by now so familiar room but a blinding pain in his temple makes everything hazy for a moment.
And then everything comes rushing back.
The excruciating pain. His cries and pleas that all fell on deaf ears. The cold, robotic voice that was his only conversational partner for those days.
Hitoshi bites back a whimper, the headache still persistent even if it dulled down somewhat, but he knows better than to make a sound.
He knows better than to make a sound, to talk, to be himself, and he should have known better, too, should have known that nowhere is safe for him, no matter what pretty, pretty words Aizawa and Yamada told him because in the end—they are just like everyone else.
And the only thing Hitoshi is deserving of is pain.
Which he knows; he knows that, they just—made it easy to forget. They pretended as if he was worth more, as if he was deserving of more, of gentler things and Hitoshi should have never believed them in the first place.
It was beyond stupid of him to trust the lies, no matter how much he wanted it and he guesses the pain he suffered through for the however many past days is what he gets for being stupid and gullible and himself.
Hitoshi fights the urge to curl up small and instead gets back into the position he woke up in because he's not ready to let them know he's awake yet. He doesn't know what he did to deserve a punishment so severe, doesn't know how he fucked up and made them angry and worst of all, he doesn't know what they did to give him such a debilitating headache and he'd rather not provoke them again.
Living through that once was more than enough, he's not looking for a repeat of it but for that he has to figure out where he messed up first.
He has just closed his eyes again, when he hears the door to his room open almost silently, and Hitoshi forces himself to breathe evenly.
"He's still asleep," he hears Aizawa mutter and Yamada makes a sound that could almost be classified as sad.
"You think we should wake him?" he wants to know and Hitoshi has to work hard not to freeze or tense up.
He's not ready for a new round of punishment and he doesn't even think his body could take it, so he forces himself to be relaxed and still. It's something he's good at, something he had to get good at if he wanted to avoid beatings and he hates that it comes in handy even here.
"Let him rest some more," Aizawa gives back before the door closes again, though Hitoshi doesn't hear it click shut.
He stays where he is for at least five minutes before he dares to slightly turn his head and just like he feared, the door to his room is still ajar, as if they want to be alerted to his state at all times.
Hitoshi's eyes start to burn and he desperately squeezes them shut, unwilling to bury his face in his hands because who knows what kind of motion will get them back into his room but like this there's no stopping the hot tears sliding down his face.
He thought he was safe here. He thought he could have a somewhat happy life here. He thought he could have parents who cared for him.
Turns out, he was just being stupid.
Hitoshi stays in bed and unmoving for the rest of the day. He tries his best to melt into the mattress, to disappear completely, but of course it doesn't work.
He hears Aizawa and Yamada quietly talking in the living-room and he wonders if this will be his new normal.
Quiet, whispered conversations away from him, where he can't hear, where there's no danger of him ever taking control of them and otherwise cold, detached robotic voices, reading out what no one dares to say to him directly anymore.
The thought brings new tears to his face and again, he wonders what he did so horribly wrong that they resorted to hurting him like this.
If they will do it again or if there's a way for him to prevent it.
Hitoshi knows that he'll never get to know that, that he doesn't deserve an answer to it and that no matter what, they could lie to him anyway but he can't help but to wonder.
He gets so lost in his thoughts about that, that he barely hears them approaching again and by the time the door gets pushed open it's too late.
Hitoshi got caught.
"Oh, baby, you're awake," Yamada almost cries out and rushes to his bedside, though he stops when Hitoshi can't quite hide his flinch.
He hasn't flinched in their presence in a while, and it's almost laughable how easily his body remembers to be wary of them, of movement, of people moving fast and coming too close and Hitoshi fists his hands in the blanket as he sits up.
His head is still aching faintly, hasn't let up at all since he woke up, really, and he figures crying didn't make it better and he almost feels sick with the fear of that blinding pain coming back.
'Sorry' he shakily signs out, his movements still unpractised and the shaking of his hands doesn't help.
"Sorry for what?" Aizawa wants to know as he slowly comes closer as well and Hitoshi ducks his head.
His vocabulary isn't very big and he's not certain it'll be enough to convey everything so he has to stick with the basics.
'I not speak' he manages to say and then repeats 'Sorry' over and over again, until gentle hands cover his own and stop his frantic signing.
"Sorry for what, kid?" Aizawa asks again and Hitoshi's eyes burn once more because he can't say, he can't speak or they'll inflict that horrible headache on him again, he just knows it.
"Why won't you speak to us anymore?" Yamada asks, his voice shaky and his eyes watery and Hitoshi wonders why he's trying so hard to play a role, still.
They showed Hitoshi what they really are. There's no reason for them to play him like this anymore, to keep up this pretence of caring and worrying and being invested in his well-being.
It's clear that they are not.
But he can't say that, can't tell them that he figured them out because speaking might get him hurt again and he would rather die mute than ever have that pain inflicted on him again, so he shakes his head and continues to sign that he's sorry and he just has to hope that it's enough.
It would help if he knew why they decided to hurt him in the first place, so that he can try his hardest to avoid doing that ever again, but maybe he can appease them like this.
Maybe it will be enough.
"Kid," Aizawa says, almost gently and Hitoshi's eyes burn at the perceived kindness in his tone. "You're not in trouble and we're not going to punish you for anything," he says and it's such a lie, it's such an obvious, blatant lie—because they have hurt him already—that Hitoshi bursts into tears.
"Oh, baby no, no no, come here, sweetheart," Yamada mutters and scoops Hitoshi up to hold him close and Hitoshi thinks he should tense up because surely more hurt is in his future, but Yamada's arms are as gentle and careful as they have always been and it only makes Hitoshi cry harder.
"What's going on, Hitoshi?" Aizawa mutters as he cards a hand through Hitoshi's hair and it soothes the lingering headache even though it's confusing and scary and nothing makes sense with them anymore and it's enough to make him blurt out his thoughts.
"Please don't hurt me again, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I promise, I won't do it again, just please don't make me hurt like that again, I'm sorry."
He feels more than hears Yamada suck in a breath and Aizawa's hand falters on his hair before he picks up the motion again though it feels more careful than before.
"Please, I'll do anything you want, I'll behave, I won't—I won't say a word, just please don't ever make me hurt like that again," Hitoshi sobs out but he freezes in terror when Yamada's arms tighten around him.
"You think we did that?" There's nothing but horror in Yamada's voice and Hitoshi thinks it's so unfair, it's so unfair of him to sound like that when they were the ones who inflicted this on Hitoshi and it only makes him sob harder once his breath stutters back up in his chest.
"Shhhh, sweetheart, it's alright, let it all out," Yamada mumbles, swaying Hitoshi in his arms as Aizawa continues to pet his head and they don't say anything more until Hitoshi's sobs have quieted down into soft sniffles.
"Can you listen to us, kid?" Aizawa asks and he leans down to catch Hitoshi's eyes.
It's not as if there's anything else to do for him, and he wonders when they will get out their phones with the robotic voices again, and for a moment he thinks he should remind them that he's dangerous to speak to but Aizawa continues to stare at him, clearly expecting an answer and so eventually, Hitoshi nods.
"You were sick," Aizawa says. "You caught a virus. It's called Quirk Pain, have you heard of that before?"
Hitoshi thinks he might have, that there was some talk about it in school, but his head is still hurting and he's tired and continues to be confused, so he can't quite remember anything about it.
He shakes his head and when he immediately tenses in fear afterwards, Aizawa moves a bit away from him.
"We're not going to hurt you, Hitoshi, we're never going to hurt you," Yamada tells him, his arms still around Hitoshi and they are gentle and soft again and Hitoshi thinks he wants to believe him, but he can't because the pain is still so fresh in his mind.
"Quirk Pain is a very smart virus," Aizawa explains as if Hitoshi's reaction didn't even matter and Hitoshi doesn't know how to feel about that either.
Aizawa waits after that and he waits for long enough that Hitoshi understands that he wants him to ask a question which is just—don't they want him to be quiet?
"Come on, kiddo, you know how to ask questions," Yamada gently coaxes him and Hitoshi worries his lower lip before he does what they both so obviously want from him.
"Smart how?" he whispers, his voice barely audible but Aizawa gives him a smile for it anyway and Yamada presses a kiss to his hair and it all seems so normal except for how Hitoshi's head is still slightly pounding.
How can they act like this when the pain is still so close?
"The virus wants to eat your quirk factor—the genes that activate your quirk," Aizawa goes on and despite everything, Hitoshi finds himself listening to him, not only because he answered a question without hesitation but also because—Hitoshi likes learning.
Deep down he just wants to know all the things, and just because he wasn't ever allowed to ask questions doesn't mean that changed in any way, so he's soaking up Aizawa's words like a sponge.
"But the virus can't get to it because—" Aizawa hums for a moment, clearly thinking on how to explain it best and then he gives Hitoshi a small smile. "The quirk genes are like watermelons. They have a very thick rind and the virus can't get through that. So it has to crack the watermelon open somehow."
He pauses again and this time, Hitoshi is faster with his question because he wants to know and he wants to learn and Aizawa is looking at him with such patience that maybe nothing bad will happen even if he does speak up.
"How does it do that?"
"The virus gathers in the place where the quirk is located and makes you think you're in pain."
"So for you, it was your head," Yamada says and drops a kiss to Hitoshi's hair. "For Aizawa, it would have been his eyes. And for me—"
"Your throat," Hitoshi finishes and Yamada nuzzles his cheek for it.
"Exactly, you smart bean."
"Now, the quirk makes you think you're in pain, all so that you use your quirk. To crack open the watermelon."
"And then?"
"The virus eats all of the watermelon. All of it, until nothing is left."
Hitoshi frowns.
"It—eats the quirk?"
"It destroys the quirk," Aizawa corrects him, but his face stays just as kind as before. "And most of the time also the place the quirk was located in. I could have gone blind."
"I could have lost my voice," Yamada chimes in. "And you—"
"My—mind? I could have lost my mind?"
"Yes," Aizawa says with a nod. "And since the mind is so essential and so very fragile, it could have killed you."
"So we couldn't answer you, baby, we couldn't say anything to you at all," Yamada shakily says and hugs Hitoshi tighter for a moment. "Do you understand?"
"You used the phones to make sure I couldn't activate my quirk," Hitoshi slowly says, frowning while he carefully sounds out the words and the faint pounding between his temples is still there. "My head still hurts."
"And it'll be a while yet. It's an after effect. You didn't eat or drink enough and all the crying didn't help either. Adding that in with the lingering effects of the virus means you'll have a headache for a while. Sorry, sweetheart."
"So you—didn't make me hurt like that?"
"No, Hitoshi, we didn't. We would have made it stop if we had that power."
"You tried to help me?" Hitoshi wants to know next because he faintly remembers them hugging him and petting his hair just like Yamada is doing now, and he remembers the robotic voice telling him to take his pain medication, to just hold on, reassuring him that they are there for him.
Maybe—maybe they are telling the truth.
Maybe they didn't hurt him and maybe they never wanted this to happen either.
But what are they going to do if it happens again?
"Can I get it again?" Hitoshi whispers out, unsure if he could stand that much pain again but Aizawa gives him a smile.
"No, kid, you're done now. There's no chance for you to get it again. You won't ever have to live through something like that again, I promise you."
Hitoshi sits with that for a moment and allows them to hold him, to look at him and he lets out a sigh when Aizawa reaches out and cards his fingers through Hitoshi's hair.
"How are you feeling now? Any better? Or is there something else you want explained?"
Hitoshi worries his lower lip for a moment, unsure if he can simply ask what's on his mind but Aizawa gives him an encouraging smile and so Hitoshi speaks up.
"You didn't hurt me?"
"No, kiddo, we didn't," Yamada immediately says and Aizawa nods.
"And we're never going to, either," he promises, just like he has done countless times before and Hitoshi slumps against Yamada's chest.
"I was so scared," he admits, his voice wobbly and his eyes getting teary again and Yamada peppers his face with kisses.
"We know, sweetheart, we know," he mutters. "But it's all good. You're safe here with us."
"And—you're not mad?" Hitoshi asks because he needs to know.
He needs to make sure that they aren't fed up with him, that they won't just discard him because he was ungrateful and wrongly accused them of something.
"We're definitely not mad," Aizawa reassures him. "We're just very, very happy that you're feeling better now."
Hitoshi ducks his head at that because Aizawa sounds serious and why would that be enough to make them happy, but they seem so earnest and as if they mean it and Hitoshi is too tired to wonder about this further.
"You ready to catch up on some more sleep?" Yamada asks and moves to lay Hitoshi back down in his bed, but Hitoshi panics and clutches at his shirt.
He doesn't want to be alone, he doesn't want to be on his own anymore but he's not entirely sure how he's supposed to ask for them to stay, not after what a nuisance he was but Aizawa seamlessly takes him from Yamada's arms.
"You can watch a movie with us on the couch," he decides and simply carries Hitoshi over to the living-room as if it's easy, as if spending time with him could be something he wants to do and before Hitoshi really knows what's going on, he's all bundled up between Aizawa and Yamada and he's drifting back to sleep before he knows it.
The last thing he hears is a muttered conversation around him—not because he's excluded and they don’t want him involved but for once because he's wanted, and they want to make him feel included, make him feel as if he belongs, no matter if he participates or not and Hitoshi drifts off, thinking that maybe he could get used to that.
Short version is that Pluto is a later name for the god of death, which is often associated with the Roman era/Roman mythology. Hades is the earlier name.
I made this post thinking I knew what kind of fire I was playing with. Hephaestus, God of Fire, looking upon me from his fuck off tower or whatever said “Oh you think you know? Check this shit” and promptly set my post ablaze for everyone to observe
You're basically doing the post equivalent of standing out in a field during a storm with a ten-foot copper pole, you better hope Zeus is busy hiding from Hera.
This Himmel art I made back in January... posting it now
I did initially post it on Twitter/X though
I was reminded that I made it when I saw it floating on Pinterest a couple days ago... what the 🥹
genuinely i don’t think it’s possible to easily explain the explicit part of online friendships to people who don’t Understand. i don’t mean like, explicit in the sense of “oh you’re sexting” or whatever. no. i mean when you and your friend start gleefully making up explicit sexual scenarios for your shared blorbos and you get giddier and giddier as you add more detail and you’ll be grinning at your screen as you type away at mach speeds. and it’s entirely nonsexual in an interpersonal sense, you’re not really getting Into it, but ohhhhh it’s soooooo fun and satisfying. and you can NEVER tell someone who doesn’t also do this that your mood is actively improved like fivefold because you and your friend played Sexual Tuoys together because they’ll go “what the FUCK.”
Hola, Doomers! It's July 15th, so here's the June of Doom 2027 prompt list for all your doomsday planning! All the good stuff's below the cut!
Previous Dooms: 2023 || 2024 || 2025 || 2026
What the heck's a June of Doom?
This is a month-long prompt challenge/ list/ event/ thing that focuses on whump, angst, hurt/ comfort, and the like. Despite the air of doom it exudes, this challenge is very relaxed—your mod knows life happens but you still want to be part of your fandom(s), and sometimes you can't just sit down 30 days in a row to write/ art/ create. So, this list is out stupid early every year so you have the chance to prepare and particiapte! It's never too soon to Doom!
Rules
Tag your stuff with appropriate warnings, plzkthnx.
AI-created content is highly discouraged and frowned upon. I have no way of "checking", but I respect the time and effort people put into their crafts and encourage everyone to do the same. This isn't a contest for best written or prettiest art — it's a challenge, so challenge yourself.
Be cool. We're cool here. Don't like, don't read. Don't start none, won't be none. If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say it. Let people be happy. 💕 (But if someone's comin' at you within the confines of this challenge, let me know ASAP.)
FAQ
You can participate with original and fan works!
You can do so with whatever medium you want!
You can combine this challenge with other challenges!
You can start/ finish this challenge whenever the heck you want! And I'll reblog it here if you tag the blog, even if it's not June!
You can use one, some, or all of the prompts listed for a given day however you want! The point is to be creative!
You can mix and match prompts from different days!
If nothing on a certain day is inspiring you, there are 15 alternate prompts to play with!
Angst, hurt/comfort, and lighter/funnier forms of whump are welcomed and encouraged! Torture takes many forms! :)
I'll post reminders and such as we get closer!
[AO3 Collection] - Open late May 2027
[Banners] - Eventually!
**Only posts that tag the blog @juneofdoom will be reblogged. I am a one-man show and haven't time to comb through all the variants of the #juneofdoom tags anymore with the number of participants we have, so if you want to be featured here on the main blog, just @ me!**
If you have any questions, comments, shout outs, ideas, or just need some encouragement, inbox me anytime, June or not!
Have fun, Doomers! ⚡︎
2027 Prompt List ⚡︎
"Don't panic."
| Obedience | Shivering | Vertigo
"I'm trying!"
| Whip | Emergency Room | Blackmail
"Leave me alone."
| Cold Shoulder | Locked Out | Relapse
Me, writing a new installment of "A home is more than just a house" with more hurt!Hitoshi instead of buckling down and writing how Erasermic acquired him in the first place?
The Germans really cooked making "Hobbyless behaviour" an insult. It is both devastating, applicable to a wide range of people and behaviours, and doesn't resort to swearing.
Man ranting on the internet about the Superbowl halftime show or complaining that something is "woke"? Hobbyless Behaviour. Girls mocking another girl for not looking right? Hobbyless Behaviour. Mindless vandalism? Hobbyless Behaviour.
It is more powerful than "get a life" or the English "You're Sad" because it gets to the central point of the matter, and that is wonderful. Danke, Deutsch.
