-- hey, I know I keep putting these warnings up for different chapters of different works a lot, but this one gets rather dark and unsettling with references of past abuse and emotional manipulation/abuse. Please be careful. --
The Midland forests are a wide and formidable place: sitting on the border between the great kingdom Of Yuuei and the League of Independant Cities, it poses as a near impenetrable fortress wall. Few dare to try and tame it. Many who enter are lost. Kai Chisaki had been one of very few to settle inside the forest, desirous of its seclusion and distance from disease; but even he hadn't dared to build his mansion more than a few miles inside.
Far, far deeper inside was another home. The fat and sprawling sprawling building was flat, one story tall, and built like a fortress. Surrounding it was a rounded wall of protruding roots reaching high to the treetops and braided with each other: there were few spots where even one person could squeeze through. Inside dwelled the Hunter. A slayer of men and a watcher of all, he was a cunning creature.
The distant leader of the League of Independent Cities had come to the Hunter with a proposition: he was craving more power, to shake the foundations of the kingdom of Yuuei (for which he fostered a hatred hotter than the pits of his most dark twisted factories.) The leader, known only as All for One, did not want war with the kingdom. No, he desired to weaken the kingdom first. He had given the Hunter one job.
"Take their children: newborn, adolescent, royal, peasant: take the ones who will leave an impact on the higher standing members of their society and the ones who crawl in the mud. Twist the children's morals and views and bring them closer to our view of things. Once they listen and accept, release them back to their homes. The king and his pet knights can't live forever like I: when they are gone, the children (who will have been spreading word and sowing seeds of doubt,) will weaken the kingdom.
"Then, once their footing is unstable, we will attack."
And so the Hunter had begun. He had first "found" another like himself to assist his work. Once he had been sure the boy wouldn't dare to go against him like the first time, the Hunter began his work in full force; and to his delight it had not been long before talk of the disappearances was flying about the kingdom. It was hilariously ironic to him to take not one but two sons of high standing knights. Those two had been giving him the most trouble.
Soon he had thirty children. Then fifty.
The Hunter had been watching the Eighth Mansion since before AFO had come to him: he had once recieved a hefty sum of money for an operation on that place from someone else. So when he learned of the mechanical son of Kai Chisaki, the Third Lord of the kingdom, he couldn't help himself. The Hunter watched and waited for months.
The boy was beautiful. His intelligence and moldable state of mind was just what the Hunter needed.
Kai's too-late attempt to protect Izuku was almost adorable.
All the Hunter had to do was sing his song and have the weak boy at his side play his small harp and add his voice. Izuku had come like a fly to rotting meat. The hunter had never been happier than when he finally held that mechanical angel in his arms (though he had never truly been happy a day in his life.)
He decided he had gathered enough for now: some were close to being fully grown, and some were fully fledged adults.
All that was left was to sway the thinking of those who still resisted him. With his talents, he doubted the challenge would take him much longer.
-- a week after capture --
Izuku was wandering the halls, avoiding his kidnapper.
He hated this place. He missed his parents and the Eight: he couldn't sleep at night, wrapped up in horrible visions of their grief at his disappearance. And it all came down to the fact that he was an idiot. An airheaded, enchanted fool.
Normally he would have loved this seclusion: Mother Nature was wild and unrestrained around him; bird song could be heard non-stop throughout the day; strange plants and flowers he didn't recognize grew, sustained by the magic of the forest; and there was even a room with an old piano. But he couldn't find it in himself to enjoy these things. The bird song mocked him. The flowers stuck their smell on him and repulsed the other trapped kids (of whom he had only met a few.) Mother Nature threw angry birds and snarling beasts at him when he neared the wall of roots. The old piano was horribly out of tune and Izuku didn't have his gloves, so his fingers clacked on the ivory and wood.
Izuku just wanted to go home.
But instead of the dark stone of the Eighth Mansion, or the comforting teal and charcoal colors of his room, Izuku found himself in a wooden hallway, with torn and ratty drapes fluttering down the walls.
There was an unexpected sniff and shuffle. Izuku paused. he waited for the sound again. Was someone else in the hallway with him? The camp (as the building they were trapped in was often called,) held hundred of small nooks and crannies: it was almost common place to find one poor soul tucked away in the most bizarre of places. When Izuku had stumbled upon the piano, he had found a minuscule hatch in the floor boards in which was hiding a thin and gangly girl. The girl, named Toga, was clearly unstable, but she had taken an unsettling shine to Izuku: he avoided her whenever he could: she was leaning into their captor's ideals far too much for his liking.
The sniffle came again, accompanied with a small hiccup. A tiny moan came next. It came from behind a slightly thicker tapestry, with a set of wrinkles that implied a frequent brush to the side.
Having pushed the cloth out of his way, Izuku found a door that barely reached up past half his height: it couldn't have been more than three feet, probably around 2.5. As light filtered through cracks in the wood the noises behind stopped. Whoever was behind there had frozen in fear.
"Hello?" Izuku tried, gently tapping the door and squatting down. "Are you ok?"
There was no response.
"Please say something. Maybe I can help?" Offering help and kindness usually worked.
But there was still silence for another moment.
"... you can't help me. Please go."
Izuku frowned internally. Sure it was obvious he couldn't get whoever it was to safety outside of this prison, but if whoever it was behind the door was hurt or needed something... well, he could do that much at least. He told the person behind the door as much.
There was a choked off sob. "You CAN'T," he stressed. "Please, I've hurt you and the others enough just--" the voice cut off. There were footsteps approaching, faint for now, but loud enough for the mystery person to recognize. "He's coming!" The words were frantic and hissed. "Go!"
Izuku looked around: he didn't want to see the Hunter, not again! Not so soon! He couldn't run down the hall, the Hunter would hear him and probably see him. He couldn't see any other place for him to hide.
The person behind the door cursed, snapped the door outwards (barely missing Izuku's nose,) grabbed hold of the mechanical boy, and whipped him inside: Izuku nearly fell on top of the other person. Whoever-it-was whipped the door closed, stopping centimeters away from the frame so as to quietly close the door without a bang. Izuku was pressed into a tiny corner: he could feel an instrument in the darkness, something with a rounded shape and strings.
The room was larger than he had anticipated. They could stand and there would have been room for a third occupant, even with whoever-it-was's few belongings.
Izuku felt a hand press onto his metallic mouth, an urgent "SHUSH" hissing through the small space. There was next to no light in the room. The only illumination came from a few tiny cracks in the door and the wall opposite, enough to barely see with if you stayed in there in the darkness long enough, but too little to make out any features. Izuku could see the frame of the other captive, but the lack of lighting left the other androgynous.
The footsteps grew louder. Izuku's "roommate" visibly began to shrink back, terrified of what was to come: the hand was still firmly pressed to Izuku's mouth, though with less urgency.
Without warning there was a loud banging on the wall. It was less of a bang and more of a ear-shattering boom from a cannon ringing out a deafening seven times. Izuku's squak of terror didn't make it past the hand over his mouth, but whoever-it-was wasn't so lucky; but his screech allowed Izuku to finally pin the other person down as male: it seemed most of the unfortunate souls here were male.
"BRAT!" The Hunter shouted with an extra bang on the wall, not bothering to brush the curtain aside. The boy was trembling all over. "I TOLD YOU TO COME OUT ALREADY!"
The other boy, with either some strength Izuku didn't understand or through some terrified fear, spoke. His voice shook and he stuttered through half of his words. "I-I will! I've promised! S-soon!"
"You said 'soon' TWO DAYS AGO!" The man hadn't stopped shouting: Izuku had found the Hunter either shouted all the time or he charmingly whispered his poison until it wormed into your skull and bounced around for hours or even days. "You think you can just curl up in your corner and die?!"
"N-N-NO-NO!" The boy's voice was filed with pleading anxiety. "I've been out since then! I've walked and drunk water! I've eaten! I promise! I'll come out again soon!"
Suddenly the Hunter's demeanor changed. There was a rustle as fabric stretched and readjusted as he crouched before the door. "Good," he cooed, brushing aside the tapestry and letting fragmented light fall on the boy's face, who blinked and squinted. "That's good you're going to come out, because otherwise..."
The Hunter rattled the door. The boy yelped, removed his hand from Izuku's mouth, grabbed the inside knob and pulled inward with all his might (even though the Hunter had no interest in coming in.)
The man outside laughed, continuing his statement. "... because otherwise I'd have to drag you out and 'take care of you' again all by myself!" He sounded far too delighted by that prospect, ignoring the boy's sobs of terror. "Always remember, boy, that I took you in out of the kindness of my own heart. You owe me your life!" He wiggled the doorknob of his side. "And what do we say to that? Hmm?"
The boy choked and gasped for his voice. Finally it came with a shaking "thank you," that sounded far from genuine.
The mirth left the Hunter as soon as it had come. "Good. You better come out soon and socialize, Brat. You have a lot of 'friends' to get comfortable with."
And with that final viscous spit of venom, the Hunter walked away.
The whoever-it-was waited a full minute after the steps had dissapeared from earshot. He slumped forward, weeping without remorse until the sobs turned into dry heaves, his body trying to expel what was not there to expel.
Izuku snapped out of his terrified trance. He crawled forward to the boy, attempting to lift him up: the sickly child fought him weakly, but was so consumed with the heaves he couldn't do much more than paw at Izuku's firm porcelain chest. Izuku sat him up and leaned him against the wall. Now that he was up close with the boy, he could just about see his face. His sunken features were screwed up in pain.
Izuku's own fear forgotten, he felt about in the darkness. He came upon the cushioned feeling of a blanket and immediately snatched it up: he placed it around the boy's front and tucked it behind his shoulders. Izuku could feel how thin the other boy was. He wondered at just how little he ate normally.
"I'll be right back, I know how to help." He promised, rubbing the boy's shoulder.
Izuku didn't want to leave the boy behind, but he was the only one nearby to help. With a final promise, Izuku turned, opened the short door, and crawled out. The hallway was empty. Izuku breathed a sigh of relief. He half-walked half-ran the distance to the kitchen. Left-left-straight-right-over the bump in the floor-left-- Izuku crashed into the kitchen. There was a pathetic and weak flame burning through the meager remains of its fuel in the center of the room, a pot of weak chicken soup sitting in the flames: an enchanted bucket sat in the car corner, filled with ice cubes: cupboards that could barely be considered stocked lined the walls above the counters, but still they held food items, ingredients, and spices.
He frantically began searching for what he needed. He set a slice of bread on a grate over the fire to toast. He then dashed over to the cupboard, found a mostly clean glass, and headed to the ice bucket.
"Chisaki?"
Izuku screamed and dropped the glass: it shattered, unsurprisingly. He whipped around to face the voice.
Sitting at a table was none other than Shoto Todoroki, one of Izuku's first friends here: he had been the one watching over Izuku when he had woken up in the camp. Though it still felt unnatural to be called by his new last name, Izuku had gotten used to Shoto's formal way of addressing people.
He clutched his chest and bent over. "Don't scare me like that," he begged, incorporeal heart still beating a mile a minute.
"Sorry." The other boy stood, walking over to Izuku. "But... what are you doing? You can't eat."
The question brought Izuku back to reality, and he stood straight again. Going for another cup, he hastily explained, "someone needs help. He's sick and really malnourished. And I could use your help right now actually."
Shoto straightened. Kept hostage and disrespected or not, he was still a young prince and a Knight of Yuuei in-training, and it was his duty to help others. Quickly they restarted. Shoto took the second glass and filled it with ice he had crushed into tiny pieces while Izuku went about making iced ginger tea. All that was left was a small cup of the broth from the soup. The two rushed back to where the boy was hidden: right-over the bump-left-straight-right-right.
The wretching had stopped. Izuku set the glass of tea on the floor and pulled back the curtain so Shoto could hold it out of his way. He tapped on the wood door. "Excuse me? I'm back, and I've brought a friend and some easy food and drinks." He turned the knob. The boy made no move or sound to stop Izuku, so he pulled the door open.
The light of the hallway fell on the face of a boy Izuku's or Shoto's age: he had sunken features and equally sunken purple eyes with dark bags underneath: his purple hair looked like it would normally be fluffy, but it was matted and kept down with the grease and oil he hadn't bothered to wash out. The boy was unhealthily thin. He tried to scoot away, but there was nowhere to go in his corner.
Izuku wished he could have smiled then. He wanted to reassure the mystery boy it was alright, even though all three knew it wasn't. "Hello again," he said kindly. He half-scooted half-crawled into the space, Shoto sitting uncomfortably outside. Izuku pressed the slice of toasted bread into the boy's hand. "Eat this, you need something easy to eat."
The boy tried to decline, but his stomach growled loudly and his hand moved on its own. He took a large bite out of the dry toast. Izuku waved his hands. "No no! Smaller bites than that."
The boy looked ashamed, swallowing his large bite in tiny gulps. Izuku motioned for the glasses of tea, ice chips, and broth, Shoto passing them in. Now inside the room with full illumination, Izuku found a box of matches and a candle mounted to the wall: the candle gave light to even the darkest corners of the room, though Izuku didn't bother to enjoy the scenery.
Turning his focus back to the boy, who was half through the slice of toast, Izuku proffered the glass of ice chips: the boy started placing chunks of ice in his mouth, waiting for them to melt or simply crunching through them. Izuku, satisfied for the moment, settled down on the floor and curled into the boy's side: he stiffened for a moment, then leaned into Izuku in return.
In attempt to pass the time, Izuku began introductions. "I'm Izuku, and this my friend Shoto. I've only been here for a week, but he's-"
"-been here for three months and five days, I know." The boy finished, setting down the cup of ice and taking the cup of broth: he dipped an edge of his toast in the liquid, not making eye contact. "I know everyone and how long they've been here."
"You do?" Izuku asked, puzzled, but Shoto understood.
"You're the harp player." He pointed into the darkness, pointing at the instrument Izuku had felt earlier: it was indeed a small harp, more like a lyre. The boy flinched at the observation. "You're another Charmer, aren't you?"
"... yes. He isn't strong enough on his own to cause people to come to him: he can only daze them. I'm the one who--" the boy choked on another sob, "the one who--" he couldn't finish.
Izuku began to comfortingly shush the strange boy, rubbing the thin arm. Shoto leaning a hand as well, awkwardly patting the boy on the leg. "Hey, that would make us almost related in a way."
The boy raised his head from where he had wrapped his arms around his knees. "Huh?"
"Charmers are half-Vampire, yeah? I'm a half-Vampire myself: a quarter-vampire if you want to get really technical. There aren't too many pure blooded Vampires anymore, so maybe we're distant cousins or something." Shoto gestured to his bi-colored nature: red on one side, white on the other. "I'm also half-Elemental, but that doesn't really apply here."
The boy blinked at Shoto. "Why would you want that?" His voice wasn't bitter or distraught, but blatantly confused. "Why would you want to be even slightly related to someone like me?"
Shoto shrugged. "You look like you need family." He nudged the cup of broth. "C'mon, keep drinking. You're half dead."
Izuku was happy: he knew Shoto wasn't great at socializing, and yet the boy was trying his best.
After the boy took a small sip of his lukewarm broth, Izuku finally asked, "what's your name?"
The boy was quiet for a moment. "Hitoshi Shinso." He almost smiled a rueful smile as Shoto sat back and tried to remember if he knew anyone named 'Shinso'. "Don't bother. There are no remnants of my family to remember. Just me."
Izuku softened. He remembered how his adopted father had been the only one left of his family before he took in Izuku. "I'm sorry."
Hitoshi sniffed. "Not your fault."
"I'm sorry for you."
Hitoshi didn't say another word. The three sat in silence as he finished his tiny meal: Izuku inspected the lyre, Shoto leaned on the short doorframe. When the food was all gone Hitoshi looked at them again; and unless Izuku's eyes were tricking him, he looked just slightly healthier, with a tinge of color back in his sunken cheeks. "I really am thankful that you did this, but you should go. He'll come back sooner or later, and there's no need for you to get in any situation with him over me."
Izuku went to argue, but he didn't get the chance.
"Now why would they get in trouble?"
Izuku and Shinso yelped in alarm while Shoto leapt to his feet, arms raised in defense. He was brushed aside by a lazy arm. The Hunter's hand reached down and snatched Hitoshi by the ankle and pulled him out into the open, ignoring the boy's yell of fear.
"NO!" Izuku tried to grab hold of Shinso, as if he could keep him out of harm's way, but missed, and caught himself before his face crashed onto the stone floor. The Hunter grabbed him as well, pulling him out by his wrist. "NO!" Izuku screamed again.
He was brought face to face with the man of his nightmares: he had no nose, his white eyes were devoid of irises, and his face was sharply angular.
"I must say, Brat, when I visited you earlier, I hadn't expected you to have hidden away my newest treasure," Chizome Akaguro leered down at the porcelain face of Izuku. He spoke over Shinso's protests and stammered apologies. "What were you doing in there, Izuku?"
Izuku felt a mind numbing fuzz fill his mind: Akaguro's power was prompting him to tell the truth. Izuku was repulsed, but still he answered with a truthful, "nothing! I was walking and found him, and he needed help."
Akaguro spitefully tossed Shinso to the side: the boy scratched his cheek on a slight sharp edge in the wood, but remained otherwise unharmed. Izuku yelled the boy's name. Shoto, who had been handing back with no way to intervene, darted over to hover protectively in front of the fallen teen.
Chizome lifted Izuku to his eye-level. He was scowling. "He is weak enough as he is: he does not need you to baby or pity him. Save your energy, young lord."
For the first time in his life, Izuku was very angry. This man had taken him from a place where he was loved and safe and happy, had tormented him and was poisoning the lives of dozens of children and young adults: and now he was telling Izuku what to do with his life and energy?
Without thinking, Izuku kicked Akaguro hard in the stomach, his metal parts digging hard into the unprotected flesh. The Hunter let out an "oomf" of surprise, but didn't drop the boy.
"I do not pity Shinso," Izuku spat. "I understand his pain! I have lost family and have seen others lose family! I am offering him kindness, not that you would know what that means." He was shouting right into Akaguro's face, fed-up with all of the yelling the man did on an hourly basis. It felt so satisfying to return fire for fire.
The pleasure died as soon as it came.
Chizom snarled, gripping Izuku's wrist tighter until the boy yelped, and took Izuku's neck into his meaty hand.
"YOU WANT TO KNOW ABOUT THAT FAMILY OF YOURS, BOY?! THOSE DEAR MEMBERS YOU'VE LOST? DO YOU REALLY WANT TO KNOW WHAT HAPPENED TO DELICATE LADY VICTORIA AND PRECIOUS ERI, AND HOW THEY MET THEIR TRAGIC DEMISE?!"
Izuku froze, the bellowed words echoing in his skull. How did the Hunter know about Lady Victoria and Eri? How did he know how they died? Unless...
Unless!
"THEY FELL BY MY OWN POISON! ONE AFTER THE OTHER!" The insane hunter began laughing hysterically, shaking from head to toe. "INCURABLE POISON! AND THE REWARD I RECIEVED... OH YOU WOULD NOT BELIVE!"
Izuku was frozen solid: he couldn't move, couldn't speak. He could only hear those terrible words. "AND THEY DESERVED IT! IT IS NOT FAIR TO BE BORN INTO AN EASY LIFE! ONE MUST STRUGGLE AND FIGHT FOR THEIR EASE! I'VE KILLED SO MANY OF THESE FAT NOBLES AND ROYALS! But you," his voice suddenly lowered and he pulled Izuku an inch closer, enough that Izuku could smell the man's rancid breath even through his man-made face. "You I am going to keep alive. In a roundabout way you too earned your place for ease, but I won't let you have it yet. I have work to do on you still."
The mechanical boy finally regained his ability to move and speak: he thrashed in Akaguro's grip, spitting out screams and curses, verbally bringing Akaguro's worth to below that of an earthworm.
The man had the audacity to laugh. He blew his red smoke into Izuku's face. The boy tried to remain conscious, but darkness overtook him and he went limp as a noodle in Akaguro's grip: distantly, he could hear Shoto and Shinso yelling. A sensation of free-falling and then strong protective arms was the last he felt before he blacked out entirely.
Shoto had leapt forward and caught Izuku before his fragile body could be broken on the floor. The Hunter began stalking away, still laughing maniacally.
Shoto drew Izuku's limp form closer to his body, and turned to Shinso: the purple haired boy was curled up into a tiny ball, clutching his bleeding cheek and shivering like a leaf in the wind. Shoto felt an emotion he didn't understand well-up in his chest. He scooted his body, Izuku still in his lap, up against the wall near Shinso and tapped the other boy gently. "Here, may I see that?" Shinso curled in tighter, mumbling somthing probably along the lines of, "just go before you get hurt again because of me." Shoto was having none of that. "Please let me see that," he emphasized again.
Shinso reluctantly unfurled. He knew Shoto wouldn't stop until he took a look at the cut. His half-Vampire "cousin" wiped at the cut with the corner of his sleeve, digged around in his pocket, and placed an adhesive bandage over the cut. "You're lucky it's only skin-deep. It'll probably leave a scar, but that's it."
"Thank you," Shinso murmured. He went to curl into himself again, to drown in his self loathing, but Shoto held him back with one hand on his shoulder.
"Would you mind helping me carry Izuku back?"
Shinso looked ready to cry again: he hated crying, but it seemed like that was all he could do anymore. But he couldn't find it in himself to argue. He slowly clambered to his feet and took one of Izuku's heavy arms over his shoulder: Shoto was much taller and stronger than Shinso, and so took most of the weight of Izuku's metallic frame, but Shinso was so weak he found it hard to carry what little he did.
The two stumbled the long distance to the other side of the camp. The room where Izuku slept was crowded with around twenty other captured teens and children: they parted with gasps and murmurs. Shoto and Shinso hauled Izuku over to his bunk bed and began hefting him up onto his upper bed.
The mechanical boy's two other friends-- another Knight-son, Iida, and the half-Elemental Dabi-- scurried over in worry. Dabi was one of the few young adults out of five total in the camp; and, being the tallest and strongest, he hefted the most of Izuku's weight onto his bed.
"What happened?" Dabi asked through a grunt.
Hitoshi was bent over on his knees, panting, so Shoto answered. "Izuku Chisaki met Shinso here, and he and I began helping him. Then the Hunter came around." He didn't need to elaborate further: it was to be assumed that Akaguro was to blame for Izuku's state. "He knocked Chisaki out with that weird breath of his."
Iida frowned. He cast a dirty side glare to Dabi. "Still belive he's all that great?" He spat.
Dabi growled in return, flames popping up through his clothing and raising the standing temperature. "I never said I liked the Hunter or condoned any of this. I simply said I could relate to some of his ideals!"
"Same thing-"
"Iida." Shoto laid a hand on both male's shoulders. His right hand on Dabi steamed as his chill soaked into the man's heat. "You're angry: we all are. But now is not the time to be fighting, least of all among ourselves."
Iida slumped, blushing a light pink. "I know." He turned his head slightly to address the man he had been arguing with. "My sincere apologies."
Dabi relaxed and shrugged, his blue flames dissipating. "Don't worry about it. This place gets to you." He looked back to Izuku and his face creased in worry. "He'll be fine, yeah?"
"Yeah," Shinso muttered. He had seemingly shrunk in size, curled into Shoto's side. "It's just a form of sleeping gas. Izuku has woken from it before."
Iida frowned. "That reminds me: how does he create that mist? I have never heard of that being a trait of Charmers before."
"As far as I know it isn't. He must be using something else." Shinso looked about ready to run away, shifting from foot to foot.
Before he could find some reason to excuse himself, Shoto offered, "you can stay you know. I think Chisaki would be heartbroken if he woke up and you weren't there after all of... all of that."
The young Charmer's face crumpled as he fought off another wave of tears. The girl who bunked beneath Izuku leapt to her feet. "Here, have my bed for now. I need to go find some food for the kids anyway." Shinso tried to protest, but she was adamant he stay and rest, and he crumbled before the slightest hint of kindness anymore.
Dabi smiled down at the girl. "I'll go with you. He likes me, so if he stops us you can go on ahead while I talk with him." She visibly relaxed and several more teens rose to join, all saying they needed to stretch their legs or grab some food for themselves and the young kids. Other kids began rifling through the large room, organizing and cleaning: most of the rest ducked outside through a large door to head for the outside baths.
Shinso didn't understand it. They were captured, held here against their will. How could they manage to just get up and find a new way to live life as close to normal as they could?
He didn't understand it.
But his eyes were too heavy to keep open any longer. Before he knew it, he had fallen asleep on Shoto's shoulder.
A/N
So this just became the longest chapter of this book yet. It is over twice as long as the average of the other chapters (not including this A/N,) and I am pretty darn impressed with myself on this one.
Some notes, everyone is pretty ooc in this story (if you haven't already realized,) and not one person will be 100% or even sometimes 50% similar to how I have portrayed or am portraying them in other stories or in canon. Iida, for the time at least, is a whole lot angrier: Shoto is much kinder (not to say he isn't kind in canon, I just think he doesn't know how to relate kindness all the time [though our baby is improving].) Dabi is honestly the closest to my fanfic version of him, but with little to no criminal behaviour and actions.
And Stain is waaaaay out there in terms of different: he isn't at all like either canon or fanfiction. He was little more than a bounty hunter before AFO got him on this job, he fully enjoys killing anyone, is 110% off his rocker, and is the worst person to have ever existed. Like, in terms of how awful he is in this, I'm putting him on par with (if not worse than,) Endeavor. When I say he's the worst, I mean it. Even my Stain in DB was kinda likeable cause I tried to stay close to canon version Stain who is supposed to be likeable in a twisted way.
Not this Stain.
Another note! I realize I am updating this faster than my other works, and not all of my usual commenters have time to read and comment bcuz they have different lives and schedules then I do. To which I say, sorry, but INSPIRATION AND THE ABILITY TO WRITE WAIT FOR NO MAN! I love hearing from you, but I have to get this out before I either explode or forget what I wanted or lose motivation and inspiration again.
Last note, for newer people reading my fanfictions. I am not going to have any LGBTQ content in my works, given that I, as a Christian, cannot endorse that. If I have two guys or two girls seemingly showing affection (like often in this one chapter,) they are just showing compassion and friendship in their own ways.
Comments! Only Mireya Humbolt, who wrote (and I assume read this) in Spanish (which is cool I've never had a spanish review I think!) I make no promises of not hurting Izuku. For once I am making a story where everything turns out good and well, but I'm not saying anything about no one getting hurt along the way. Stain is the worst.
Sorry for the mega long A/N, and So long Lovies!
