#full grown adult in the house in throwing a mini fit over being told he isnt the knower of all things neurodivergent

[sleepysomnia]

Guess who committed the unforgivable crime of mentioning that maybe just maybe the noises my autistic brother was making- was stimming and NOT him just trying to bother the people around him

[teaplease1717]

Story: Ashes of Love and War

Chapter: 10 / ?

Couple: Todoroki Shouto / Yaoyorozu Momo (TodoMomo)

Rating: M (for language and violence)

Betas: @flourchildwrites​ (Link)  & C’s Melody (Link) and 666-HyuugaNeji-999 (Link)

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21638800/chapters/62319862#workskin

Sorry everyone. Obviously, I’m not very good with sticking to a posting schedule. Lol. I was a mod on the TodoMomo Mini Bang. Which if you haven’t checked out, definitely do. Here’s the link: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/TodoMomo_Mini_Bang_2020

Anyways, I was a mod on that, and it had been sucking up a lot of time, then life got crazy for both myself and my betas but hopefully, my posting schedule should return to semi-normal now.

XXXXXXXX

Momo’s breath caught in her throat, and her eyes widened as his lips brushed against hers — soft, gentle. He kissed her like he really did care for her, as if he meant what he said.

‘You hold some significance to him.’

Momo’s toes curled. Warmth spread within her stomach. She closed her eyes as his fingers cupped her jaw, lifting her head to deepen the kiss.

It felt nice. It wasn’t supposed to feel nice, but it did.

Her heart was pounding in her chest. Her hands twitched, and she lifted them hesitantly, unsure what to do with them or whether she wanted to pull him closer or push him away.

Momo hadn’t realized that she could be affected like this.

Affected by him.

He was a Spartan. An enemy of Troy. He had helped burn her city to the ground, loot their temples, enslave her people. And yet, he had been nothing but civil — if not even decent — to her and Tokoyami.

He treated them like people. He answered her questions. He never raised his voice at her or hit her. He talked to her. A moment before, he had even been trying to make her feel better.

Was he really as bad as Tokoyami said?

Todoroki’s mouth moved against hers for a moment longer before he pulled back, and he looked down at her. His red and white bangs brushed against her forehead, and she could feel the warmth of his breath against her lips. His expression was softer than Momo had ever seen, and it made her heart ache painfully.

Could he really care for her?

‘He’s only acting kind to make you compliant.’

That’s right. There was no way he could like her in any significant way. They hardly knew each other. She trembled, her stomach clenching painfully as another unwanted thought came to her.

‘Don’t forget. He only sees us as tools. To him, significance equates to ‘value,’ and a person only has value when they are useful for his purposes.’

“You’re lying.”

It was a whisper against his lips.

Todoroki’s expression instantly shuttered. He withdrew his hand and took a step back.

The warm night air suddenly felt chilled.

Momo froze, and her eyes widened as, with dawning horror, she remembered her station in their contract. Her hands flew up to cover her mouth as her mind registered what she had just said out loud. She had sold herself to Todoroki, she wasn’t supposed to defy him.

She had to make this right.

She felt sick. “Todoroki! I –“

“I don’t lie,” he cut her off. His expression was frigid; Momo could see his jaw clench. “I don’t need to. If I say something, it’s my word.”

Momo stepped back as he stared at her. His eyes were cold. She tried to swallow over a tight throat but couldn’t. Her stomach twisted so painfully she thought she’d throw up. He was her master. What slave spoke like that to the person who owned them?

She had no idea where this rebellious side of her had come from. It seemed that whenever she was with him, all she ever did was challenge him. She was never like this at the temple. Where had this sudden bout of stupidity come from?

She stumbled backwards. Then, before she could process her actions, she was running. If he called after her, cursed at her, Momo had no idea. She bolted up the stairs and down the hallway to her room. Her heart was pounding so ferociously in her chest, it wouldn't have been surprising if it completely stopped.

She shut the door and collapsed onto the floor, shaking with terror.

Stupid. So stupid, Momo berated herself as she tried to listen for Todoroki’s footsteps following her. But it was impossible to hear anything over her racing heart. Momo’s fingers trembled against her legs.

What had she been thinking? After all the countless times that Tokoyami had warned her to stay away from Todoroki, told her that he was cunning and dangerous, she had gone and walked right into his arms, like a fly into a spider’s web.

All it took was a few kind words to sway her.

Momo slumped further against the door and dropped her face into the crook of her elbow. She was a fool.

Her parents had given her to the wrong god. They should have given her to Koalemos, the god of stupidity and foolishness, not Apollo. At least there she would have fit in.

If it wasn’t the middle of the night she’d scream.

Momo buried her face in her hands. It hadn’t even been more than a few hours since Tokoyami had reminded her to stay away from Todoroki.

Dangerous. Manipulative. Cunning. That was how Tokoyami had described Todoroki as he reprimanded her for blushing and acting weak in front of the Spartan earlier in the evening. He’d also said that he was done warning her to be careful. It was up to her to monitor her own actions from now on – and look where that had gotten her...

Momo pressed the heels of her palms to her eyes. Perhaps, if she hadn’t been feeling useless and upset over Tokoyami acting like she was incapable of accurately judging a person’s character herself, she would have made a wiser decision than to stand there like a fool and let Todoroki kiss her.

She groaned. The worst part of it all was that part of her had liked it. The kiss had been so different from their first one. It had made her heart beat faster, and warmth to flow through her. And part of her mind had even wondered what it would be like to kiss him back.

She felt her face warm, and pushed the thought away furiously.

Be who she wanted to be? Momo scoffed. What Todoroki had offered her was too ideal. No man would ever offer his wife — much less his slave — such liberties. And she had almost believed him too. Her stomach rolled.

The only positive that had come out of the whole encounter was that now she had finally realized that Tokoyami was right; Aphrodite had clearly clouded her vision and weakened her heart.

Momo sighed, and dropped her head back onto her knees. She needed to come up with a plan, an operation to prove to herself that these feelings beginning to grow in her chest for her master were a weed, not a flower.

She stood up, and made her way to her bed. Her recent bout of terror and anxiety had left her exhausted. She crawled onto her bed and stared up at the ceiling.

Thinking about it realistically, even if she didn’t do anything, Todoroki would likely reveal his true nature sooner rather than later anyway.

Men hated being challenged. Even now, Todoroki was probably thinking of ways to get back at her, contemplating the best ways to punish her for her disobedience.

Honestly, she made the most impertinent, opinionated slave. Couldn’t she have just kept her thoughts to herself?

Momo closed her eyes and draped her arm over her face. Worst case scenario, Todoroki would renege on his promise to free Tokoyami. Before that could happen, she needed to appease him. She had nothing left to trade, she had already given herself to Todoroki as a slave to be allowed to heal Tokoyami, all she could do now was apologize and pray to Clementia that he’d accept that.

Momo turned on her side and curled into a ball. She felt sick. Her head was throbbing. She closed her eyes and lay there trying to think of ways to properly apologize to Todoroki as she waited for someone to come get her for her shift.

No one ever came and she fell asleep.

XXXXXX

43 days post the fall of Troy

Momo had never been known for her ability to hide her emotions, so it wasn’t a complete surprise when Tokoyami had guessed something had happened between her and Todoroki. However, his decision to confront Todoroki over his presumed assumptions had been too much for Momo to bear. She had cracked, telling him about the kiss and her subsequent insubordination to Todoroki.

Tokoyami had been furious at her, as she had expected. Even after she had apologized, he’d barely spoken to her for days, and had almost completely withdrawn from her.

Now he only spent his time with Asui, helping her around the house or going with her on patrols. The few times they did speak alone, he had only grown exasperated with her.

Momo’s lips thinned as she pulled on gloves before picking up a stone mallet and pestle full of dark purple berries. Carefully, she began grinding the berries into a paste.

She had always seen Tokoyami as an older brother — her only family. And she reasoned it was normal for families to fight, but with his pointed comments, Momo had to wonder if he had lost all faith in her.

She pressed the mallet into the pestle harder.

The feeling of their relationship stretching like a thread sat heavy on her consciousness and it made her angry at him, and at herself. She knew she shouldn’t have let Todoroki kiss her, but it wasn’t like she had done anything wrong, and she had apologized. Tokoyami just didn’t believe her.

Another thing for her to fix.

Momo paused and brushed her nose with the back of her wrist. “It smells sweet.”

“Sweet but highly lethal,” Shouta Aizawa replied in a bland tone. He walked over to the shelves lining the back wall of the small medicine room, and pulled a clay jar from the top. “Two berries have enough potency to kill a child. Four or five will cause paralysis and death in a healthy adult.”

Momo shivered faintly as she continued to grind the dark, purple berries into a paste.

The windowless room had been transformed into a medicinal stockroom. Shelves lined the walls, packed with pots and tinctures of varying sizes. Bronze tripods had been set up in the corners, providing light. And in the center of the room was a single, wooden table, but no chairs. Aizawa had said that one should never be comfortable when dealing with life and death.

It had been a little over two weeks since Todoroki had kissed her, and she still hadn’t apologized to him. She had planned to ask for forgiveness on one of their nightly patrols, but he had been going by himself.

It was somewhat disconcerting. He wasn’t acting like she’d expected at all. He hadn’t yelled or hit her. If anything he acted like she barely existed. Her heart panged every time she thought about it.

She was being ignored on all fronts.

The extra time added to her schedule — which should have been a blessing and allowed her more sleep — had, in fact, done the complete opposite. With her and Tokoyami’s friendship strained, Momo found her dreams growing steadily worse. More violent. More terrifying.

Then, a few days ago, everything had struck her. All her emotions: her anxiety, frustration, stress and the uncertainty over the last month had hit her, and she had ended up approaching Aizawa, begging him to teach her how to brew his various elixirs.

The head of the orphanage was meticulous and, in many ways, unforgiving, but he was a good teacher. And the attention and precision he required of her was a welcome distraction from the restlessness that had settled over her.

Aizawa moved back to her side and handed her the jar.

Momo glanced at the front. The face was intricately painted with purple, bell-shaped flowers with green tinges.

“If they're so dangerous, why do you keep this?” she asked, as she carefully began to use the pestle to funnel the smashed berries into the jar.

"Like any plant, it has multiple uses,” he said, looking down at her. “On spears and knives, it is effective to ward off the stymphalian. But, if heavily diluted, a little can alleviate coughs and colds. Or it can even help with pain if spread on a wound.”

Momo nodded, pressing her lips together as she twisted the top of the jar shut. She moved past Aizawa to the shelves. Pushing herself up onto her toes, she carefully placed the jar on the top shelf to ferment.

Four other painted vessels were nestled on the ledge. Momo paused for a moment and let her fingers skim over the illustration on another. It was a detailed depiction of a stymphalian with its wings outstretched. “These are beautiful,” she whispered in awe. “Did you paint all of these yourself?” she asked louder, looking over her shoulder.

“Out of necessity,” he said dismissively. “A surgeon must always be prepared. One slip up and I’d be sending my patients into the afterlife. The paintings are so I can tell the elixirs apart at a glance.”

Momo nodded and looked back at the jars. “I haven’t seen many of these before.”

“You probably wouldn’t. The others are ricinus, hemlock, oleander, and stymphalian poison.”

Momo studied the designs for a moment, and then dropped down from her toes. The lower shelves were packed with evenly sized tinctures of medicine made from Eri’s power. There was enough to heal twenty to thirty people. Far more injuries than any of them had sustained in the last month.

She picked one up and studied the shimmering, silver liquid. “And what do you do with all of these? You don’t use them all for fighting the stymphalian, do you?”

“I sell them.”

Momo raised an eyebrow. “Where? In the city?”

Aizawa stared at her. His face was impassive. “No,” he said after a moment. “To pirates.”

Momo felt her blood run cold. She looked up sharply and stared at Aizawa. “Pirates?”

“An old friend,” Aizawa clarified dismissively, leaning against the table. “Her crew should be arriving in the next week or so with more supplies.”

Momo put the vial back on the shelf and turned to fully face him. “Is that really a good idea?” she asked skeptically. “Do they even know about the children? How do you know if you can trust them?”

Aizawa leaned his head back and closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. Momo closed her mouth and swallowed her other thoughts; she had learned throughout her stay that he had little patience for multiple questions.

“The captain has been an ally to us for a long time,” he said after a pause. “We barter the medicine I make in exchange for vegetables and other supplies we can’t get here.”

Her lips thinned. It seemed careless to be dealing with pirates, but Momo knew Aizawa was anything but careless.

Realization struck her, and she looked up sharply. “That’s why we haven’t gone on the offensive yet, isn’t it?” she asked in disbelief. “We’ve been waiting for them to arrive and help fight.”

Aizawa dropped his hand and looked back at her.

Momo continued doggedly. “When we met Asui at sea... It seemed like a coincidence that she found us, but it wasn’t, was it? She hadn’t been looking for survivors of a shipwreck, at least not our shipwreck. She was looking for them — the pirates.”

“Yes,” Azawai said. “I instructed Asui to find Emi Fukukado and her crew. But instead, she brought you all back. A coincidence that turned out to be favorable.”

Momo’s stomach dropped. Her lip twitched, and she swallowed thickly. It shouldn’t have been surprising, but somehow Aizawa’s confirmation of her thoughts felt like a betrayal, as if he had orchestrated the whole encounter.

She shook her head and opened her mouth to ask her next question.

“Anyway, enough discussion for now,” he said sternly, cutting her off and closing the subject. Aizawa straightened. “We’ll continue making the potion after it’s had enough time to ferment,” he said, waving his hand towards the wall. “For now, go help Asui with lunch. I have more work to do.”

Momo nodded slowly as Aizawa dismissed her.

Her chest felt tight as she pulled off her gloves and left Aizawa’s medical room. It had always been a mystery where Aizawa got his supplies. She had assumed that Asui had picked them up, but to rely on pirates seemed strange. It begged the question: did the pirates even know about the stymphalian?

Normal humans wouldn’t set foot on the island because of the stymphalian, but these pirates had, and from the way Aizawa had spoken, this wasn’t their first visit.

Was the situation not what she had originally thought? What was Aizawa not saying?

Momo shook her head. Standing in the middle of the hallway wouldn’t help her solve anything. She needed to think about it later. Perhaps she’d try to talk to Tokoyami. Her heart sank at the thought, knowing he’d most likely dismiss her concerns.

Still, she couldn’t let that stop her.

Her mind made up, Momo forced away the uneasiness in her limbs, and went to look for Asui, knowing that Tokoyami would be there too.

She found them in the kitchen, heads leaned close together as they whispered to one another. Momo stilled.

Asui looked up. “Momo,” she said, taking a step back from Tokoyami.

“I'm sorry,” Momo apologized. “I didn't mean to interrupt.”

Asui shook her head. “You didn't interrupt, kero.” She wiped off her hands on a towel and picked up a tray. “I was just about to go put this in the oven. If you’re done with Aizawa, would you mind helping Tokoyami cut some vegetables, kero?” she asked.

Momo hummed in agreement as the nereid slipped out of the door.

Once she had left, Momo stared at the back of Tokoyami’s head for a moment as he continued working.

The room suddenly felt uncomfortable. Momo brought her right hand up to grasp her opposite arm. “I need to talk to you,” she finally said.

Tokoyami looked up and his eyes flashed. “Is it about the Spartan again?” he asked slowly, his voice tight.

Momo’s stomach curled and she frowned. “No, it’s not,” she forced the words out. Her fingers dug into her arm. “But I said I was sorry, and I’m not talking to him, so I don’t know why you're still angry.”

“I’m not angry.” Tokoyami placed his knife down and turned towards her. “I’m frustrated and exasperated, yes. But not angry.”

He leaned against the counter and crossed his arms over his chest. There was a righteous anger in his yellow-bird-like eyes that made Momo’s throat tighten. “You had promised me three times that you were going to be careful around him, and that’s not even counting when you sold yourself to him.” His voice was flat and matter-of-fact, and she flinched at the words. “If you aren’t going to listen to me then I don’t want to talk about your feelings or supposed lack of feelings for him. You are a grown woman and you can decide who to trust yourself. Anyway — ” He waved his hand dismissively, and his eyes flickered as he changed the topic abruptly. “Let's not get into this argument right now. What is it you wished to speak about?”

Momo swallowed. She felt anger clench in her chest almost painfully. She wanted to scream. He always did this. He was passing the blame off to her. Making it seem like she was the unreasonable one. Her stomach felt tight and she dropped her arms to her side to ball her hands into fists.

She loved Tokoyami, but she could never win. No matter the argument, he always had to be right. And the problem was he was a better debater and more stubborn than her.

Momo ground her teeth in frustration, and set her jaw. She hadn’t come here to argue, she reminded herself. Momo drew in a deep breath. “I don’t think Aizawa — and maybe even Asui — are telling us the whole truth about what is happening here,” she said slowly.

Tokoyami’s eyes narrowed slightly, and Momo continued. “I mean, it's been a month since we arrived, and he still hasn’t divulged what the plan is. And then, just now, Aizawa told me that pirates will be coming to the island. Why wouldn’t he have said anything? And the way he spoke makes it seem that they have been coming here for awhile. But normal people would never step foot on this island, so do they even know about the dangers? Plus, have you ever wondered about this house? How did Aizawa build this all by himself?”

“You’re overthinking, Yaoyorozu,” Tokoyami interrupted with a sigh. “Aizawa and Asui have been nothing but good to us since we’ve arrived. And I’ve spoken to Asui. A dark guilt hangs above her head for tricking us that first time. I don’t think she’d willingly hide details again, unless it was for a good cause. Besides, if they were using us, Asui wouldn’t have offered for us to stay here once the mission is done.”

Momo blinked, taken aback by the sudden turn of the conversation. “Stay here?” Somehow, she’d never entertained that as an option.

“Yes,” Tokoyami nodded and uncrossed his arms, taking a step closer to her. “We can make a life here, away from the darkness of war and discrimination. We can finally be free.” His words were full of hope.

“But...but how do we know we can trust them?”

Tokoyami’s yellow, bird-like eyes flashed, and he jutted out his beak defensively. “You trust that Spartan more than Aizawa and Asui?”

Momo shifted. Her hands shook. Tokoyami was the one who was always saying to be careful around Todoroki, but now it was suddenly okay to trust Aizawa and Asui? He was a hypocrite. “That’s not what I meant…”

“You don’t need to feel tied to Todoroki just because you agreed to sell yourself to him,” Tokoyami snapped.

Momo flinched.

“You’ve always been like this.” His voice rose. “You act like the world is your responsibility. Did you already forget how awful the priestesses were to you at the temple? How they only acted like your friends when they needed something or were scared of me?”

Momo didn’t answer. His words hurt.

Tokoyami exhaled through his nose. “That Spartan is no different. He doesn't see you as human. And the way he looks at you...I don't know. It's unsettling. We need to get away from him as soon as possible. Besides, what’s he going to do to stop us if we decide to leave?”

Momo looked away. “I don't know,” she said quietly. She brought her hand up to clench over her chest. She suddenly felt very, very alone.

“Stop.”

Momo looked up sharply. Tokoyami was staring at her, his eyes hard. “The war is over,” he said. “We survived. And now we’re free of the dark. We can start fresh. You don’t have to be tied to him,” he repeated. His hands clenched into fists at his sides.

Her shoulders pulled inward slightly. She didn't want to fight again. They were always fighting these days. Couldn't they just go back to normal?

“Okay, I’m sorry. You’re right. I’m being illogical,” Momo whispered. She couldn’t do this anymore.

The heaviness in the room was palpable.

The kitchen door suddenly opened as Asui re-entered the room. Her eyes widened as she stopped in the doorway and looked between the two. “Is everything okay, kero?”

“Yes,” they said in unison.

Asui blinked and tapped on her chin. "If you say so," she said hesitantly, obviously feeling the bitter tension that hung in the air.

Momo swallowed and turned, going over to the water bucket to wash her hands. She could feel Asui’s eyes on the back of her head. For once, Momo wished she could talk to her, but the nereid wouldn't be alone until they retreated back to their room for the night.

She bit her lip. In all her years of knowing Tokoyami, they had never disagreed like this, and the thought made her stomach churn.

She wanted to talk to someone. She had never been very good at keeping her thoughts to herself. It was what had gotten her in trouble with Todoroki in the first place, but she couldn’t help it.

“Lunch is about done,” Asui said suddenly, breaking the silence. “Yaoyorozu, can you please go get the children, kero?”

Momo nodded and headed out to the courtyard. She noticed Asui step closer to Tokoyami as she closed the kitchen door behind her, and tried to ignore the hollow ache in her chest.

The mid-morning sun shone down, already hot, highlighting the enclosed grounds. Potted olive and lemon trees decorated the stoned space, and on the far left side of the courtyard, a stone oven was nestled next to the wall.

In the middle of the garden stood a simple fountain adorned with a statue of Hephaestus, god of the forge and protector of outcasts. His short blond hair was swept backwards, with two distinct tufts sticking up above his head.

She looked up and paused. Across the courtyard, the children stood in awe, watching with wide eyes and open mouths as Shouto Todoroki demonstrated different dueling poses.

Momo stepped quickly behind a pillar. She hadn’t expected to see him. She felt her face warm and she pressed her hand to her chest as she leaned around the limestone pillar to watch secretly.

What was he doing out here?

The children were picking up sticks, imitating his movements as they swung at imaginary foes. Todoroki knelt down next to one of the boys and adjusted his hands.

Her chest tightened as she watched him. He seemed calmer today, she noted. Not as tense as usual.

Movement across the yard caught Momo’s attention as two boys suddenly jumped on Todoroki’s back. He lost his balance and fell backwards onto the ground with a huff. The boys whooped in triumph and began to wage an all-out assault on him, trying to pin Todoroki to the ground.

Momo felt the corners of her lips lift slightly. He didn’t seem like the type to put up with children, and yet he was acting so gentle. It was unexpected and slightly heartwarming.

She watched them for a moment before taking a deep breath to calm herself. She stepped around the pillar, clapping. “Okay, enough,” she called. "Lunch is ready. Go clean up.”

The boys tumbled off of Todoroki shouting and jeering, their attention diverted as they ran back inside pushing each other.

“No pushing,” Momo half-heartedly called after them. They ignored her. She sighed and looked back up. Todoroki was staring at her.

Momo froze. She felt her cheeks grow warm.

Slowly, Todoroki pushed himself up. He brushed his hands off on his chiton, and then looked back at her, his expression indecipherable.

She swallowed over a thick throat. It was the first time they had been alone like this since the incident.

Part of her urged her to turn around and not engage with him; it would only prove Tokoyami’s point. But another part of her was angry. Tokoyami didn’t believe her anyway, so what was the point of trying to ignore Todoroki?

She couldn’t fight two fronts. Tokoyami obviously wasn’t going to forgive her anytime soon. The least she could do was smooth out her relationship with Todoroki.

Momo brought a hand up to clench over her chest as they stared at each other.

“You didn’t seem like the type to be fond of children,” she said after a moment to break the silence.

Todoroki shrugged, and rubbed the back of his neck. "They're fine. They don't mean any harm," he said, drawing closer. “Were you helping Aizawa again?”

Momo stiffened. She had never asked his permission if she could intern under Aizawa and he had never said anything about it before. She bit her lip. “Yes, I just ended today’s lesson.”

Todoroki nodded. “Good.”

She didn’t know what to do with that response. He didn’t seem angry at least. She licked her lips. She needed to apologize and couldn’t afford to keep putting it off. Now was as good of time as any.

“Todoroki, I–” Momo drew in a deep breath, and dropped her gaze as she wrapped her arms around herself. “I’m sorry," she said softly.

He looked at her and raised a brow. “For what?”

Momo shifted. Her fingers tightened into the fabric of her chiton. Her heart was beating faster and faster in her chest and her throat felt dry.

“For running away. For not apologizing for what I said,” she forced out.

Todoroki looked away and shrugged. “It’s fine.”

Her eyes snapped up, and she at him. Was that it? The conversation felt anti-climatic. She had prepared to at least have him snap at her.

She couldn’t understand him at all, and didn’t know what to think about that.

“How’s working with Aizawa?” he suddenly asked, turning to look at her.

Momo tucked a piece of hair behind her ear as the abrupt change in topic caught her off guard. She swallowed. “I’ve been learning a lot. He’s been teaching me how to make the bases for a lot of different healing pastes and medicines. It’s actually really incredible. Even as the top healer in Troy there is still a lot I need to learn.”

Todoroki nodded and — if she could read him — seemed almost vaguely pleased.

Momo bit her lip as silence settled between them and her thoughts returned to Aizawa and her recent conversation. Tokoyami had dismissed her concerns, but she couldn’t push the conversation away as easily.

She looked up and studied Todoroki from under her lashes. As confusing as Todoroki’s actions were, she couldn’t deny that he was a highly skilled warrior with excellent judgment. It was a possibility that he would know what Aizawa was up to. Or he could think she was completely irrational.

Momo’s lips thinned. “Aizawa informed me that pirates will be arriving on the island soon.”

She looked up at Todoroki’s face. His expression didn’t change.

Momo’s eyes narrowed. “You knew?”

“Suspected.”

“How, then? Because we haven’t launched an operation?”

Todoroki sighed and brought his hand up to rest upon his sword’s hilt. “People like Aizawa are always planning something. He’s been nothing but secretive since we arrived. It isn’t that far-fetched that he’s been hiding something like this.”

It was true. The earlier conversation weighed heavily on her conscience. Why wouldn’t Aizawa have said anything earlier? What benefit did he have for hiding information?

Momo pressed her lips together. “I think something is happening here," she said slowly. She looked down and brought her hand up, pressing her index finger to her chin. "The stymphalian are supposed to be vicious, which we have seen is true, but it almost seems like they have a personal grudge against Aizawa. I’ve had this thought for a while, but — I wonder if something happened recently to get them riled up. Do you think Aizawa did something?” she asked, looking up.

“Possibly.”

"But why would Aizawa lie and make it sound like it's always been like this?”

Todoroki’s expression darkened. He shrugged and looked away. “Everyone has their own agenda. Gods and mortals alike." His tone was acrid.

Momo’s eyebrows drew together. “You sound resentful.”

His fingers twitched on his sword. “I’ve just been dealing with manipulative gods and people for a long time. They use people like pawns that can be disposed of as soon as they aren’t needed anymore. It’s disgusting.”

Momo frowned. "Did the Prince not have his own agenda? You fought for him and didn’t seem to care."

He shifted. "It’s not that I didn’t care. Bakugo is easy enough for me to understand. He never hides what he wants. He’s straightforward. I’m better at dealing with people like that than those who hide their true intentions.” He looked down at her. He had an unreadable expression on his face, but his eyes seemed to search hers expectantly. The hair on the back of her neck stood on end.

Momo felt her stomach twist. He looked like he wanted to kiss her again. Her heartbeat began beating faster.

She knew she shouldn’t, but part of her hoped he would.

He stared at her for several moments and then the mask slid back into place and he turned on his heel and walked back inside without saying another word to her.

Momo stood there staring at the space where he had been.

What was she doing?

Was she really that desperate and lonely that she wanted Todoroki to kiss her again so she’d feel wanted?

She froze as a cold sense of devastation crept over her when she realized that she was both of those things

She really was the worst.

[sad-sweet-cowboah]

Spooky Scary Special

Summary: It’s Arthur’s first Halloween!

“Spooky season! My favorite time of year!”

Arthur peered at you curiously from over his journal. “What?”

“It’s October! The month of spooks, and Halloween!” You exclaimed, twirling in excitement. “Time to get scary!”

Arthur placed his journal down, looking at you with a curious, yet amused expression. “It’s that big of a deal for ya?”

“Of course,” you responded. “Halloween is a cultural phenomenon nowadays. You ever celebrate it?”

Arthur shrugged. “Can’t say I have, darlin’.”

“Then you’re in for a treat. Spooky stories, Halloween movies, parties, costumes, and candy!” You giggled. “This neighborhood is full of children, it’s always great to see what they dress up as.”

The amused expression on Arthur’s face never changed as you continued to speak about Halloween, and the weeks leading up to it. He seemed interested, though slightly confused. He’d heard about similar traditions, though never got to experience it himself due to his lifestyle. You planned on making his first Halloween something special.

You first started by dragging out some décor that sat in storage. Fake cobwebs, styrofoam tombstones, skeletons to hang on the front door. You also had indoor things; witchy knickknacks and drinking glasses shaped like goblets and potion bottles. You’d packed up your summer sheets and switched them in favor for the colors of autumn. Arthur helped you with everything, though at first confused by some of the choices.

Over the next few weeks, you spent some nights showing him your favorite Halloween movies, from the scary to the cheesy. He’d grown accustomed to movies now, having gone through some of your DVD collection, although it didn’t stop him from jumping or flinching during a jumpscare, his hand always flying to his hip in an automatic reaction to grab a gun that no longer sat there.

It certainly took him a little bit to fully understand modern Halloween to its fullest extent. You took him to a local store to look for costumes, even though he mentioned that dressing up wasn’t his favorite thing in the world.

“Ain’t sure why you brought me, here, Y/N,” Arthur lightly grumbled as you both walked into the store. “I told ya, I ain’t a fan of dressin’ up.”

“Arthur, it’s for fun! It’s one night you get to be someone else for no reason other than to enjoy it.” You replied, coming up to a couple of animatronics in the middle of the store.

Arthur rolled his eyes, and peered up at the machines. The one directly in front of you was a creepy looking clown. “What’s the point of these fellers?”

Hiding a mischievous smile, you stepped back and said, “Step on the platform.”

Arthur gave you a look of slight confusion, yet did as he was told. Stepping forward to stand directly on the activation pad, you waited as the animatronic came to life, a loud cackle ripping through the air as its upper body leaned toward Arthur, throwing its clawed hands out.

He jumped back in surprise, expelling a small yelp as he did so, the shock on his face prominent. It soon changed to a hot glare when you howled in laughter.

After having to calm yourself down and soothing Arthur as well, you began to browse the costumes. Naturally Arthur’s interest was drawn toward the cowboy outfits, though scoffed at how tacky they were and mumbled something about glorifying the days of outlaws. His ranting made him sound like an old man, and you had to stifle your own amusement before pulling him along to look for others.

By the end of your shopping trip, you’d picked out a costume for yourself; a steampunk style outfit with a few accessories to match. After convincing Arthur, he begrudgingly bought himself a costume, or just bits and pieces. The steampunk accessories on your outfit intrigued him, and he finally bought a few accessories of his own.

The week before, you’d found out the local club would be open on the 31st for a costume party. It would take place later on in the night, after all the trick-or-treating was done. Upon learning this, your excitement grew.

Arthur was hesitant, although was soon swayed by the mention of booze. He didn’t want to have to be dressed up to get drunk, but went along with it knowing how happy it made you.

On Halloween day, you’d come home from work a little early that afternoon to prepare, breaking out your costume for the first time. It was a short dress; though somewhat frilly to keep the Victorian style to it. The back was longer, reaching down almost to your ankles whilst the front had stopped a halfway up your thighs. Burgundy, brown, and tan hues decorated the fabric. The pseudo corset was snug around your torso, and the sleeves were short and puffed. You’d completely the look with cute fishnet stockings and knee-high brown leather boots. A tiny tophat sat on your head, and velvet fingerless gloves adorned your hands.

As you were admiring yourself in the mirror, Arthur stepped up behind you. His eyes swept up and down your figure, and a small smile twitched at the corner of his mouth. “You look like you’re from my time.”

Giggling lightly, you turned to face him. “That is the point.”

He was wearing his outfit, the original outfit that he’d arrived with. In his hands were a faux leather long coat and a pair of goggles, the chosen accessories to compliment his look. He fumbled with them awkwardly.

“You gonna put those on?” you asked.

“Eh…don’t wanna look stupid.” He murmured sheepishly.

Giving him a soft smile, you stretched up and kissed his cheek. “You’ll be fine.” You assured him sweetly, taking the goggles in one hand, and removed his hat with the other. Carefully fitting the goggles to sit snugly on, you replaced his hat, and then gestured for him to put on the coat.

He did so, slowly, watching himself in the mirror. From his expression he didn’t seem convinced, eyeing himself with scrutiny.

“Handsome,” you cooed, placing your hands on his shoulders to kiss his cheek again. “These look great on you.”

He hummed in response, meeting your gaze in the mirror. “You still look better, I think.”

“We both look good,” you corrected, “Especially for when we go to that party later.”

He made a low noise in his throat, though didn’t respond outwardly. Entwining your fingers with his, you tugged him out of the bedroom. “Come on, the first few should be arriving soon.”

---

“Trick or treat!”

A gaggle of elementary schoolers gathered at your front door, all dressed as superheroes, holding up their bags expectantly and sporting toothy grins.

“Oh my! What adorable little heroes!” you giggled as you passed each one some candy. “Go on and save the neighborhood!”

With a simultaneous “thank you!” from them, they hurried away with their parents in tow. They were only the first group, however the street was already filling with costumed kids and adults. The next few had already made a beeline for your house.

Arthur had stepped up behind you, scanning the street with curiosity. “Sure are a lot of ‘em.” He murmured.

You nodded silently, turning your attention back to the new group that approached your doorstep. It was a singular parent with one kid this time, amusingly dressed as a horse. Their little boy was also dressed in a cowboy outfit. His eyes went directly to Arthur, widening in glee.

“Mister, your costume looks cool!” he exclaimed, pointing to Arthur.

You glanced Arthur, who blinked in surprise. His lips parted, though it took him a few seconds to finally say, “Thank you, kid. Yours is, uh, cool too.”

A smile stretched across your lips as you handed out some candy. “Go round ‘em up, cowboy!”

“Sure will! Yeehaw!” he shouted out, turning to gallop across the lawn. The parent followed close behind, telling him to slow down a little.

You chuckled at this, and turned to look at Arthur again. The smile he had on his face was genuine.

“See? Now you have a reason to enjoy being dressed up.” You pointed out.

He looked over at you, emitting a small chuckle of his own. “I ‘spose it ain’t so bad.”

As time passed and more children came for candy, Arthur seemed to become more comfortable. He had received some more compliments on his outfit, which heightened his mood even more.

After a while, you let him take over candy duty so you could take a short break. Upon returning from the kitchen with a drink, you found him having a conversation with a small group of teenagers, whose costumes seemed very familiar.

Upon closer inspection, the realization hit you. They were dressed like Van der Linde gang members.

“I think Charles is the coolest!” one spoke up, who was indeed dressed like Charles.

“Nah, Sadie is!” another called out. “She can really kick some tail!”

“But Dutch rules the whole gang, which makes him the most badass!”

Amongst the friendly bickering, you kept watch as Arthur laughed at their antics.

“Hey, I think I’M the most badass, since I’m obviously the main character!” one exclaimed, stepping forward to reveal himself as Arthur in his default outfit.

“Hey, settle down now,” Arthur spoke over them all, causing them to quiet down and turn to look at him. “I think you’re all badass!”

“I agree,” you announced, stepping up beside him to take full view of the mini gang. “Each and every one of you!”

“Yeah, but whose the most badass?” the Dutch one chimed in. “Someone’s gotta hold that title!”

Arthur laughed in response. “Everyone’s badass in their own way, cause y’all got your own skills.”

The group seemed to contemplate his words for a moment, and then responded in agreement. Arthur then gave them their candy, and they happily went on their way, chattering amongst themselves about their respective characters.

That wasn’t the first time you’d seen people dress up as characters from the game, although it must have been a little strange for Arthur. You turned your attention to him, noting the slight look of longing on his face as they headed further down the street.

“Arthur?”

He broke his gaze to look at you. “Hm?”

“You alright?” you asked softly.

He sighed heavily and nodded. “Seein’ them dressed like that, makes me miss the gang.”

Of course, you wouldn’t have guessed any different. You had to give him credit for interacting with them the way he did. “Must’ve been weird for you to see, huh?”

“A bit,” he gave a small shrug. “Surprised anyone would wanna dress up as me.”

“You’d be surprised,” you responded with a light tone, trying to keep it from turning negative. “That kid thought you were badass. I’d say that’s a pretty huge compliment.”

He snorted in response. “I guess.”

Another hour had passed before the street was mostly empty. Arthur had resumed candy duty, thoroughly enjoying every interaction with the kids that appeared. Knowing he was once a father, it probably brought him joy to do as such. You’d never seen him interact with any other children besides Jack in the game, but he was certainly good at it.

When the last of the candy had been handed out, and Arthur closed the door. He placed the now empty bowl down and took a seat on the couch. As you joined him, you glanced at the time to find it was 8 pm. Two hours had passed by so quickly, and you had another hour to kill before the party.

“So, what did you think?” you asked him.

“Of all that?” he gestured toward your door. “It’s interestin’ seein’ all them costumes. Kids were pretty cute too.”

“Aren’t they though?” you agreed with a giggle. “Sometimes I wish I had a kid just so I can dress them up and go trick-or-treating again.” You joked.

Arthur’s shoulders shuddered with a laugh of his own, smiling at your response. “That would be kinda fun.” He said thoughtfully.

“Loads of fun,” you continued. “I’d totally be that parent who still dresses up.”

His laugh deepened. “Ain’t surprised from the way you’ve been actin’ all month.”

You shrugged with shameless smile. “It’s my favorite holiday, naturally. Even if I have a kid one day, that’s not gonna stop.”

“I believe it,” Arthur’s respond, his voice trembling with amusement. “That’ll be a sight to see.”

--

I decided not to add the party in simply because I’d already covered him in the club setting, so that wasn’t necessary. The ending though is a hint to something that was brought up a few months back, so what’as Arthur starting to think? ;)