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The heart monitor steadily beeps, the clear tubing of an IV drip delves into hiding under white bed sheets, into a plump vein. A pair of bloodshot eyes watch as the liquid dutifully drips without a sound before they slowly fall to the face concealed entirely by bandages. A barely audible tune lilts from the caretaker's lips, while her thumb gently strokes the sliver of skin peeking from his bindings. Both acts aid in the healing process, but neither is as powerful or as quick as a kiss might be.
[Name]'s ability was just a means to an end until Aizawa could recover enough stamina to be seen by Recovery Girl. Though it was a tender, and rather intimate Quirk, it was a painstakingly slow process, and one she finds she has little patience for when it comes to him. Three days and the only known improvements were a stronger heartbeat, and deeper breaths; his bones have mended little, and his wounds are only just beginning to scab.
But, so long as she sings to him, Aizawa is in a little less pain.
The nurturing aura that surrounds him mimics the sunlight. The song she sings is a slow tune, an almost somber lullaby despite it's blithe subject, and it's properties are restorative. It's her favorite, and she suspects it might be his too. Aizawa has never said aloud, but [Name] recalls a time when he might have lingered in the doorway just to hear it finish. She can't remember who she was singing it to at the time, only the way he smirked before continuing on with his business.
Her voice falters and her thumb ceases it's stroking. Tears pool around the rims of her tired eyes, and a sickening knot forms in the pit of her stomach. She could have lost him. It's like it's suddenly occurred to her, and now it's the only thing that occupies her brain-space. A moment longer, and Aizawa would have been passed healing --passed saving. The gruesome state of his body when they brought him in would scar her mind so long as she lived. Aizawa would disregard them probably, but she wouldn't rest until she could hear him do so.
"You idiot," she mutters under a breath.
She wanted to save that until he said something stupid like "My well-being doesn't matter," or "It could be worse," but couldn't contain it. [Name] thought it might make her feel better, if for only a moment. It didn't, and she knows the urge that lingers on her tongue to call him an "old man" won't do her any good either, less he could hear it.
Standing to her feet, [Name] stretches the soreness from her spine before taking another look over Aizawa. There are others who need her attention, this she knows, but she refuses to leave until she's sure everything is in order. That goes for even the smallest strand of ebony hair attempting to tuck itself under the cloth barrier, and [Name] is quick and careful to brush it away with a stroke of her fingers.
"Mmph."
A gasp lodges itself at the base of her throat as she casts her startled gaze down to the mummified hero. The bandages over his eyes have split, the tiniest shred of iris and crimson tainted whites meeting her widened stare.
"You're awake?"
The fact that it came out more as a question surprised herself.
His pupils slide side to side in a deadpan manner before settling on her again, words slightly muffled, "Appears so."
"W-Well, how are you feeling? You were in pretty bad shape--"
"I remember. I was there."
Her lips twist into a disgruntled pout, absentmindedly sinking back onto the stool beside his bed.
"How are the students?"
"Perfectly fine now . . . You and Thirteen got the worst of it, it seems."
Aiwaza tries to turn his head, but only manages a twitch. He sighs remissly, "How worried were you?"
The question came out of no where and pierced her brain liked a bullet. [Name] even jolted and caused her seat to wobble. Defensively, she crosses her arms and blows hot air out of her lips, "Who said I was worried?"
"You called me an idiot."
"I--" He heard that?
"And you stopped singing."
Various splutters and half sentences leave her mouth until she chokes. With widened eyes, she watches him successfully turn his head this time. At this distance, it's only bandages she sees, but she can feel his eyes on her. A casted arm reaches out from the covers to rest on her knee, patting softly, and she has the feeling he'd squeeze if he could. A smile softly spreads across her pink features, gently placing her hand on top,
"You were in pretty bad shape, old man."
Aizawa protested with an adamant groan.
He'd be okay.
[Name]'s ability was just a means to an end until Aizawa could recover enough stamina to be seen by Recovery Girl. Though it was a tender, and rather intimate Quirk, it was a painstakingly slow process, and one she finds she has little patience for when it comes to him. Three days and the only known improvements were a stronger heartbeat, and deeper breaths; his bones have mended little, and his wounds are only just beginning to scab.
But, so long as she sings to him, Aizawa is in a little less pain.
The nurturing aura that surrounds him mimics the sunlight. The song she sings is a slow tune, an almost somber lullaby despite it's blithe subject, and it's properties are restorative. It's her favorite, and she suspects it might be his too. Aizawa has never said aloud, but [Name] recalls a time when he might have lingered in the doorway just to hear it finish. She can't remember who she was singing it to at the time, only the way he smirked before continuing on with his business.
Her voice falters and her thumb ceases it's stroking. Tears pool around the rims of her tired eyes, and a sickening knot forms in the pit of her stomach. She could have lost him. It's like it's suddenly occurred to her, and now it's the only thing that occupies her brain-space. A moment longer, and Aizawa would have been passed healing --passed saving. The gruesome state of his body when they brought him in would scar her mind so long as she lived. Aizawa would disregard them probably, but she wouldn't rest until she could hear him do so.
"You idiot," she mutters under a breath.
She wanted to save that until he said something stupid like "My well-being doesn't matter," or "It could be worse," but couldn't contain it. [Name] thought it might make her feel better, if for only a moment. It didn't, and she knows the urge that lingers on her tongue to call him an "old man" won't do her any good either, less he could hear it.
Standing to her feet, [Name] stretches the soreness from her spine before taking another look over Aizawa. There are others who need her attention, this she knows, but she refuses to leave until she's sure everything is in order. That goes for even the smallest strand of ebony hair attempting to tuck itself under the cloth barrier, and [Name] is quick and careful to brush it away with a stroke of her fingers.
"Mmph."
A gasp lodges itself at the base of her throat as she casts her startled gaze down to the mummified hero. The bandages over his eyes have split, the tiniest shred of iris and crimson tainted whites meeting her widened stare.
"You're awake?"
The fact that it came out more as a question surprised herself.
His pupils slide side to side in a deadpan manner before settling on her again, words slightly muffled, "Appears so."
"W-Well, how are you feeling? You were in pretty bad shape--"
"I remember. I was there."
Her lips twist into a disgruntled pout, absentmindedly sinking back onto the stool beside his bed.
"How are the students?"
"Perfectly fine now . . . You and Thirteen got the worst of it, it seems."
Aiwaza tries to turn his head, but only manages a twitch. He sighs remissly, "How worried were you?"
The question came out of no where and pierced her brain liked a bullet. [Name] even jolted and caused her seat to wobble. Defensively, she crosses her arms and blows hot air out of her lips, "Who said I was worried?"
"You called me an idiot."
"I--" He heard that?
"And you stopped singing."
Various splutters and half sentences leave her mouth until she chokes. With widened eyes, she watches him successfully turn his head this time. At this distance, it's only bandages she sees, but she can feel his eyes on her. A casted arm reaches out from the covers to rest on her knee, patting softly, and she has the feeling he'd squeeze if he could. A smile softly spreads across her pink features, gently placing her hand on top,
"You were in pretty bad shape, old man."
Aizawa protested with an adamant groan.
He'd be okay.
Literature
girl crush|ayato kirishima
ayato kirishima x reader
gender : neutral
listen : [link]
i've got a girl crush, hate to admit it but
i've got a heart rush, and it ain't slowing down
You adored the way her curls framed her face. The way they rested peacefully on the base of her neck, giving her face character. The way she smiled, the way her dimples brought out the color in her eyes. She was perfect, flawless, unblemished. From the way she talked, to the way she walked - you were in deep. Memorizing every inch of her existence, studying her every action like a textbook. She was living, breathing perfection, and you aimed to dissolve every inch of her within your minds eye.
Literature
Ayato Kirishima x Reader |Give It a Break|
Ayato hadn't predicted this.
In the event he got close to someone, much less a human; he would've sworn to hate himself for it. And for a while, he did. The self-loathing feeling had embodied him whole for taking pity upon the species that had taken everything he had from him. His mother, his father, his childhood, and his relationship with his sister - the list was endless of what he had lost.
His occupation suited him perfectly. Kill humans, hurt the ones who had hurt him. Kill or be killed. That was the world he was flung into, a world without mercy, that'd take anything.
He recalls a memory. He thinks back to hearing one of his subordi
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I don't even know what this is.
I just really love this show, you guys, and this man.
Boku no Hero Academia and Characters (c) Kohei Horikoshi
Fanfic Plot (c) Mikittykun
*4/10/17*
I just really love this show, you guys, and this man.
Boku no Hero Academia and Characters (c) Kohei Horikoshi
Fanfic Plot (c) Mikittykun
*4/10/17*
© 2017 - 2024 Mikittykun
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This is so beautiful T^T