I See You

ᵔᴗᵔ hello, here is a guide for you or rather in this case a navigation on what’s to come ᝰ.ᐟ

✶ about :

african-american / 22 fem writer / multi-fandom & original ideas / requests are open

✶ what I do :

multi-fandom & original works | AUs galore | open to requests and collaborations

✶ current vibes :

epic crossovers, haunting themes, and characters who thrive in the chaos

✶ stay awhile :

╰┈➤ summary : Five Hargreeves isn’t the only one who can break the universe. His twin sister, (Y/N), mastered slipping between dimensions—until one wrong move during their little “save the world” mission sent her spiraling into a whole new reality. Now she’s stuck in her teenage body, with 58 years’ worth of knowledge crammed into her head, reliving puberty like some cruel cosmic joke. As if that wasn’t bad enough, she’s trying to figure out how to extend her powers past their limit restrictions again, dodge existential crises, and, oh yeah, deal with a family of vampires constantly breathing down her neck. Yeah, shit sucks.

╰┈➤ chapter four :

(Y/N) walked deeper into the forest, her boots crunching lightly on the dry earth as she pushed past overgrown vines and low-hanging branches. The familiar pressure in her chest hadn’t let up since she arrived in this strange world, the weight of her uncertainty settling in with each step. Every part of this dimension felt wrong, out of place, and the more she walked, the more the sense of being utterly disconnected from everything around her pressed in on her. She couldn’t even get a grip on her own self, let alone find a way back to the life she knew.

The coldness in the air wasn’t entirely from the woods; it was something deeper—an unfamiliar energy that gnawed at her insides. She couldn’t focus on it for too long, though. She couldn’t afford to get lost in her own mind. Not when she had no clue where the hell she was or how she got here.

The trees were growing thinner now, their towering forms becoming a blur against the pale light filtering through the canopy above. She pushed forward, only half-aware of where she was headed, just moving. The sound of her own breathing was oddly loud in her ears, and the silence of the forest stretched on endlessly, punctuated only by the occasional rustling of leaves or the distant call of a bird.

Eventually, the thick underbrush began to thin, and the trees opened up to reveal a small clearing. Beyond the trees at the edge of the forest, a faint outline of buildings appeared—structures she recognized from her brief encounter earlier. Forks, the name lingered in her mind, unwelcome and strange.

Her instincts flared, but her feet kept moving forward. She wasn’t ready to confront whatever Forks had in store for her just yet, but she couldn’t stay hidden forever. And maybe—just maybe—there might be something here that could help her figure out how to leave.

She crept closer, staying to the shadows of the trees, her eyes scanning the town beyond. It seemed eerily quiet—too quiet, in fact. There was something about the atmosphere that was unsettling, as if the place was holding its breath, waiting. Her gaze shifted along the road and the surrounding woods, then froze as something caught her eye. A car. A police cruiser. It was cruising slowly down the winding road, headlights cutting through the dusk, the soft hum of the engine approaching.

Not good.

She instinctively stepped back into the cover of the trees, but it was too late. The officer in the car had already spotted her. He slowed, his gaze narrowing as he noticed her figure standing at the edge of the forest. She felt his eyes on her, studying her, but she didn’t flinch. She’d faced down worse than curious strangers.

The cruiser rolled to a stop, and a man got out. His uniform read “Forks Police” across the front, the badge glinting under the dim light. He was tall, his build sturdy but not imposing—just a man doing his job. The officer didn’t make any sudden moves, which, in her opinion, was the first sign of a good cop. He simply stood there, his posture casual but alert.

“Hey there,” he called, his voice steady and friendly. “Everything alright?”

(Y/N) felt a surge of irritation well up in her chest. Everything alright? She didn’t even know where the hell she was. But she wasn’t about to tell him that. Instead, she folded her arms across her chest and gave him a look that was equal parts skeptical and annoyed.

“I’m fine,” she replied sharply, eyes narrowing. “Just out for a walk. No big deal.”

The officer raised an eyebrow but didn’t push her. Instead, he offered her a small, reassuring smile, the kind of smile that only someone who had dealt with a thousand strangers in the woods could pull off.

“Well, it’s not exactly the best time of day for a stroll, you know?” he said, gesturing to the dimming light around them. “You sure you’re alright? You don’t look like you’re from around here.”

(Y/N) took a quick look around, scanning the area as if checking for some invisible threat. She wasn’t about to let him know more than he needed to. She wasn’t here to make friends or explain herself.

“Yeah, well,” she muttered, her tone dripping with sarcasm, “I just got tired of the crowds. Figured I’d take the scenic route. A little peace and quiet—don’t get too much of that these days.” She gave a small shrug, as if brushing him off. “I’m good.”

The officer didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t press the issue either. “Alright,” he said slowly, “but if you need anything, just let me know. Name’s Charlie Swan, by the way. I don’t usually see anyone out here, especially not this far from the town. So… where are you headed?”

“Nowhere in particular,” (Y/N) answered, her voice almost bored as she shifted her weight, making it clear she wasn’t interested in an extended conversation. “I’m just… passing through. Got places to go.”

The officer’s brow furrowed slightly, his gaze softening with concern, though still guarded. He seemed like he wanted to say more but held back. “Well, that’s… interesting,” he said, studying her with an air of curiosity that she found unsettling. “You sure you’re okay? I could give you a ride to town. It’s a little dangerous walking around here at night.”

(Y/N) felt the urge to roll her eyes but restrained herself. She wasn’t about to let this guy play the hero on her watch. The last thing she needed was someone asking too many questions or trying to force their help on her.

“I’m fine, really,” she insisted, a little sharper this time, her voice clipped. “Thanks, but no thanks. I’ve got it covered.”

The officer’s gaze didn’t leave her, but his posture softened slightly, like he was trying to make her feel more at ease. But that didn’t help her. She wasn’t here to make small talk.

“You sure you’re good?” he asked, his voice dropping just a little, as if he knew something wasn’t quite right. “I could give you a ride to wherever it is you may be heading. It’s not exactly safe walking out here at night.”

She had half a mind to tell him where he could stick his offer. But she didn’t. Not yet. Instead, she shifted her weight, letting her eyes narrow, her voice sharpening just enough to show she wasn’t interested in being babied.

“I’m good,” she said, forcing the words out. “Thanks, but no thanks. I’ve got it covered.”

The officer lingered a moment longer, his expression unreadable. He seemed to want to say something else but held back. Finally, with a small nod, he turned and made his way back to the cruiser. The engine started up again, and the car rolled away, the headlights casting long shadows as it disappeared down the road.

She didn’t move immediately. Instead, she waited, letting the sounds of the cruiser fade into the distance before she allowed herself to relax. For a moment, the weight in her chest lifted, but only slightly. She wasn’t out of danger yet. Not by a long shot.

Turning back toward the woods, she took a steadying breath. There was no time to waste. She needed to keep moving, to keep searching. The answers had to be out there somewhere. She just had to find them.

(Y/N)’s footsteps barely made a sound as she returned to the shadows of the trees, the silence once again wrapping around her like a suffocating blanket. She wasn’t sure where she was headed next, but she had a nagging feeling that something more than just this town awaited her.

Closing her eyes, she concentrated, letting her senses expand outward. The energy she carried—strong, pulsing just beneath the surface—vibrated through her like an electric current. The hum of it was familiar now.

She took a slow, steadying breath and focused.

A shift. A sudden tug, like the world folding in on itself, and then she was gone.

She reappeared a few moments later at the stream she had crossed earlier. The clearing she had found earlier, the one with the faint outline of Forks in the distance, was still fresh in her mind.

The moment she focused, the vision of the stream became clear. Her mind sharpened, the world resetting around her in an instant. She was back at the last place she had truly felt some semblance of safety.

This wasn’t the place she would stay, but she had to figure out what to do next. What to learn.

Her gaze swept across the land. There was nothing but trees and wilderness, a long stretch of forgotten space. But something caught her eye—a break in the foliage that led deeper into the woods. It looked like an abandoned structure. A cabin, long neglected. Perfect.

It could be the temporary shelter she needed.

Making her way toward it, she set her plan in motion. The cabin was cold inside, empty of any life. The floor creaked as she walked across it, her eyes scanning the room for anything useful. A few old, rusted tools. A broken-down table. Nothing that looked worth salvaging, but she wasn’t looking for comfort. She was looking for a way out—out of this dimension, out of whatever trouble awaited her here.

The hours passed as she got to work, her mind whirring with ideas and possibilities. But more than that, it was a question that lingered in the back of her mind: What did her being here mean for everything else? Could her existence here cause a paradox?

She couldn’t afford to ignore the thought. It was a question that would need answering soon.

But not yet. Not while she still had time.

•••

(Y/N) leaned against the cold, dusty window of the cabin, her mind swirling with possibilities. The floorboards creaked under her feet, the silence around her oppressive as she stared out into the darkness of the woods. The moonlight was faint, casting long shadows across the room. It was too quiet here—too still. A far cry from the rapid pace of her old life. The empty cabin was just another shell, abandoned like everything else in this strange place. It was only temporary, a brief stop along her journey.

Her fingers tapped rhythmically on the old wooden table, her thoughts moving faster than she could process them. There were too many things to consider, and the complexity of the situation was beginning to take root in her mind. What had brought her here? Was this dimension her new prison, or simply a detour? Could she even go back to her original timeline, to her old world?

She chuckled to herself, the sound dark and self-assured. Of course she could return. She was brilliant, far more capable than anyone who might try to stop her, and this—this world, this twisted turn of events—was just another challenge to overcome.

But the science, the mechanics, the probabilities—they gnawed at her. There was a part of her that couldn’t help but break down the situation like a complex equation, the solution looming on the horizon, but just out of reach.

“Alright, let’s see,” she muttered aloud, pacing in the cabin’s dim light. “The first thing is obvious. I’m not supposed to be here. I can feel it. The energy is wrong. This dimension, this universe—it’s a distortion. A flaw in the fabric of space-time. If I’m here, something’s gone wrong. And let’s be clear, it’s not me that’s the problem. I’m the solution.”

Her reflection in the cracked mirror on the wall seemed to agree—well, at least, it mirrored her every movement, a perfect imitation of her face. Her sharp gaze, the confident tilt of her chin. But then it did something that made her stop in her tracks. It smiled back at her.

An amused, twisted smile.

“Do you think you’re invincible?” the reflection asked, its voice soft, but laced with condescension. The same voice she’d heard inside her head a thousand times. The same voice that had always been there, speaking her thoughts, challenging her decisions. Her brother’s voice.

“What do you think, genius?” she replied, her words dripping with mock sarcasm. She knew it wasn’t just the reflection—it was him, or at least, an echo of him. Her twin. The other half. The one who had shared her every thought, every plan, for as long as she could remember. Number Five. And, despite everything, he still had the audacity to talk to her.

“Oh, don’t pretend you’re above it all,” Five’s voice echoed from the mirror, as if he were standing right next to her. “You’ve always loved the chaos, the complexity. But this?” He gestured to the room around her with a flick of his head. “This is bigger than you, even you. And you know it.”

She sighed, rolling her eyes, irritated but not surprised. “You’re right, of course. I’m the brilliant mastermind, the tactical genius, the one who always thinks ten steps ahead. But… I’m stuck in a world that doesn’t even belong to me.” She looked away, momentarily lost in her thoughts, before snapping her fingers. “That’s a contradiction. That’s what makes me a paradox.”

Her reflection—the one that was him, the one that had always been there, the one who was her—tilted its head, as if considering her words.

“A paradox, huh?” it said, voice dripping with disdain. “You’re already a paradox. You exist outside the natural order of time. You’ve jumped across dimensions before. But this? This isn’t just another blip in your little adventure. This could unravel everything.”

“Could,” she repeated, as though testing the word. “Could… or will?” Her voice was colder now. She wasn’t talking to him, not really. She was talking to herself. But it still felt strangely… comforting.

“There’s a reason why I’m called a young genius,” she said, stepping closer to the mirror, her reflection staring back with an intensity that mirrored her own. “I’m the one who plans, who analyzes, who always finds the way out. You think I can’t handle this? That I can’t solve it? Of course I can. It’s just a matter of calculations.”

She started pacing again, speaking as though she was giving a lecture to a class, though her only audience was herself—him. “We know time and space are interwoven. The universe, in all its infinite complexity, runs on a delicate balance of forces. And yet, these forces are not as constant as we think. Time is a fluid thing. I’m proof of that. Every time I jump, I alter the very threads of existence. And let’s be real here, I do it better than anyone.”

Her reflection crossed its arms, a knowing look on its face. “Sure, you do it better. You’re always the best. But there’s a reason your existence is a time bomb, sweetheart. You were never supposed to exist this way. You’re a walking paradox.”

The words hit her like a punch to the gut. But she wasn’t shaken. Not yet. She never was.

“You really think I’m a time bomb, huh?” she scoffed, a smirk forming on her lips. “I’d love to see the person who’s dumb enough to try and stop me.”

Her reflection raised an eyebrow, a sardonic expression creeping across its face. “You’re not invincible, (Y/N). Your own existence could undo everything. The ripples of your being here could destabilize the whole timeline. Maybe even the universe itself.”

“Please,” she snapped. “Spare me the lecture. If I were so much of a threat, don’t you think someone—something—would’ve already tried to take me down by now?” She leaned in, her fingers tapping against the surface of the mirror, as though challenging the reflection to come up with something better. “I’m already the key to fixing this. All I need is the right trigger.”

Her reflection mirrored her smirk, but then it straightened up, the look in its eyes sharpening. “You know the risks, though. Your brother knew them, too. And he still chose to stand by you. But this isn’t about him. This is about you—about whether you can control this mess you’ve made.”

(Y/N) stood silently, staring at her reflection as though she were looking at a ghost, or perhaps the future. The mirror seemed to blur for a second, like the fabric of the universe was tearing apart just beneath her.

“It’s a risk I’m willing to take,” she finally said, her voice cool and resolute. “I’ve lived on the edge of existence for as long as I can remember. Time, space—it doesn’t matter. I’ll fix this, and when I do, I’ll be the one pulling the strings, just like always. The universe has no idea what’s coming. They’re all just waiting for me to do what I do best.”

She stepped back, the reflection still mimicking her, still watching. “You’re not a time bomb,” it finally said, though the words seemed more like a challenge now. “You’re a walking weapon. And you don’t even know what it’s capable of.”

Her smile was sharp.

“Oh, but I do. I just haven’t decided how to use it yet.”

As the words hung in the air, she turned her back to the reflection and stepped away from the mirror. Her mind was already racing through the possibilities again, the calculations, the theories. Time wasn’t linear—not really. It was a web, a construct that could be manipulated. All she had to do was find the right thread to pull.

The sound of her boots tapping against the old cabin floor echoed in the silence, but there was no turning back.

╰┈➤ summary : After losing his job and with nowhere else to go, (Y/N) ends up working as a maid for the Midoriya family. His soft features and quiet nature make everyone assume he’s a girl, and honestly, half the time he doesn’t bother correcting them—it’s just easier that way. Everything seems fine until Izuku comes home and meets their new “maid,” and things get awkward fast. What starts as a simple job quickly turns into a tangle of misunderstandings that neither of them saw coming.

╰┈➤ chapter nine :

Izuku couldn’t stop fidgeting. His nervous energy filled the air of the small apartment, his knees bouncing furiously as he sat on the couch. In his hands, he held a crumpled piece of paper, the last set of practice notes he’d scribbled down before the UA entrance exam.

Across from him, (Y/N) sat with one leg crossed over the other, sipping tea. His ever-present maid outfit was as spotless as always, an odd contrast to the chaotic whirlwind of thoughts Izuku seemed to be drowning in.

“You’re going to vibrate right through the floor if you keep that up,” (Y/N) commented, not bothering to look up from his tea.

Izuku froze, forcing his legs still. “S-Sorry! I’m just—what if I didn’t pass? What if I messed up? What if—”

(Y/N) cut him off with a deadpan stare. “You’ve already asked me this five times since we got back from the exam. My answer hasn’t changed.”

Izuku sighed, slumping back against the couch. He stared up at the ceiling. “It’s just… UA. It’s everything I’ve ever dreamed of. If I didn’t pass, I don’t know what I’d do.”

“Cry, eat some grilled salmon, and move on,” (Y/N) said, his tone completely unfazed. “Besides, you probably did fine. You’re too stubborn to fail at something you actually care about.”

Izuku blinked, his cheeks heating up. “You really think so?”

(Y/N) glanced at him, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “I wouldn’t be sitting here wasting my time with you if I thought otherwise.”

“HEY!”

(Y/n) snickers quietly to himself before taking a sip of his tea.

”Y-you can’t just say something like that and go about your day!”

”Do you hear that —“ (y/n) says staring out into the spacious room, looking around he turns his attention back to his drink.

“H-huh?!”

”Mhmm… must’ve been my imagination…” he sips his tea once tea once more. “Could’ve sworn I heard a crybaby try and scold me.”

”HEY!”

A few days passed, the tension growing thicker with each moment the letter didn’t arrive. Izuku was doing his best to stay positive, but his nerves were clearly getting the better of him.

“Hey, (Y/N),” Izuku began one afternoon, standing awkwardly in the living room.

“Hmm?” (Y/N) was lounging on the floor, sharpening his sword with deliberate care. The sound of metal scraping against stone filled the room, oddly soothing.

“I was thinking… maybe we could train? You’re really strong, and I… I think I need to get stronger if I’m going to be a hero.”

(Y/N) paused, his hand stilling on the blade. Slowly, he looked up at Izuku, his expression unreadable.

“Train? With me?”

Izuku nodded eagerly. “Y-Yeah! I mean, you’re so fast and strong, even without a quirk. I think I could learn a lot from you!”

(Y/N) tilted his head. “You realize what you’re asking, right?”

Izuku nodded again, his determination clear. “I can handle it! Whatever you throw at me, I’ll—”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” (Y/N) interrupted, rising to his feet. He sheathed his sword and stretched lazily. “Alright, kid. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

”But you’re the one who’s younger than me…” Izuku mumbles to himself.

The training session had been something Izuku was looking forward too. It had been decided by (Y/N) that the two would began training in the closet location of a forest, away from prying eyes. Izuku had expected sparring matches or maybe some running drills. What he got was… far worse.

“Dodge,” (Y/N) said simply, his tone almost bored.

“Dodge wha—”

The words barely left Izuku’s mouth before a pebble the size of a fist came hurtling toward his face. He barely managed to duck in time, stumbling over a tree root and landing flat on his back.

“Too slow,” (Y/N) said, already tossing another pebble.

“Wait! I wasn’t—ow!” Izuku yelped as the second pebble struck his shoulder.

“Heroes don’t get warm-up rounds,” (Y/N) said, his voice calm as he picked up a third pebble. “Now, get up.”

Izuku scrambled to his feet, his heart racing. He tried to focus, his eyes darting to (Y/N)’s hand as another pebble was launched his way. This time, he managed to sidestep it—only for a second pebble to hit his shin.

“How did you—”

“Focus,” (Y/N) said, cutting him off. “If you can’t handle this, how are you going to handle villains?”

The training escalated quickly. Pebbles turned into wooden sticks, then into hand-to-hand sparring. (Y/N) moved with the precision of a predator, his strikes calculated but never harsh enough to cause serious injury.

By the end of the first hour, Izuku was drenched in sweat, his muscles screaming in protest.

“Break?” he panted, doubling over.

(Y/N) raised an eyebrow. “You’re the one who asked for this. Don’t tell me you’re giving up already.”

“N-No! I just—need a minute,” Izuku stammered.

(Y/N) sighed, leaning against a tree. “Fine. Three minutes. Then we’re running laps.”

Izuku groaned, collapsing onto the grass.

Yet despite the grueling pace, Izuku couldn’t help but feel grateful. (Y/N) pushed him harder than anyone ever had, but there was a strange kind of camaraderie in it.

“Why do you even train so much?” Izuku asked one day, nursing a bruise on his arm. “I know you probably didn’t want to be a hero or at least I don’t think you do…. I never did ask you what your dreams for the future were, I just went ahead and assumed…”

(Y/N) shrugged, tossing a stick into the fire they’d built for the evening. “Strength is useful, no matter what you want to do. Besides, I don’t trust anyone else to protect me.”

Izuku frowned. “But you’re so strong already. Don’t you think—”

“I think strength isn’t just about how much you can lift or how fast you can move,” (Y/N) interrupted. “It’s about being prepared. For anything.”

Izuku fell silent, watching the fire crackle. He hadn’t thought about it like that before.

A few weeks after the exam, the envelope finally arrived. Izuku sat on the couch, staring at it like it might bite him.

“You’ve been through worse in the last few days,” (Y/N) said, sipping his tea. “Just open it.”

Izuku took a deep breath and tore it open. The hologram of All Might appeared, smiling broadly.

“YOU DID IT, YOUNG MIDORIYA!” All Might boomed.

Izuku’s jaw dropped, tears spilling down his cheeks as All Might explained his scores. No villain points sure but he got by with enough points for rescue, surprisingly.

By the time the message ended, he was sobbing openly, clutching the letter to his chest.

(Y/N) watched him quietly, his expression unreadable. After a moment, he raised his tea in a mock toast. “Congrats, hero.”

╰┈➤ summary : Five Hargreeves isn’t the only one who can break the universe. His twin sister, (Y/N), mastered slipping between dimensions—until one wrong move during their little “save the world” mission sent her spiraling into a whole new reality. Now she’s stuck in her teenage body, with 58 years’ worth of knowledge crammed into her head, reliving puberty like some cruel cosmic joke. As if that wasn’t bad enough, she’s trying to figure out how to extend her powers past their limit restrictions again, dodge existential crises, and, oh yeah, deal with a family of vampires constantly breathing down her neck. Yeah, shit sucks.

╰┈➤ chapter three :

Dealey Plaza was alive with the noise of a cheering crowd, their voices rising and falling like waves against the buildings. The President’s motorcade inched forward, a sleek beacon of power and authority. High above the commotion, on the sixth floor of the Texas School Book Depository, two figures stood side by side, their faces shadowed but resolute.

Five’s gaze was sharp as ever, scanning the scene below, but it wasn’t the crowd he cared about. He adjusted the straps of his shoulder holster, the weight of the briefcase in his left hand an ever-present reminder of the mission. Beside him, (Y/N) stretched her fingers inside her gloves, her stance steady and her eyes flicking between the street and her brother.

The briefcase lay open on the floor between them, a black void of sleek metal and pulsing light. Its power core hummed, faint at first, but growing louder with each passing second, like the distant approach of a storm.

(Y/N) crouched to examine it, her brow furrowing. “This thing’s supposed to get us through time?”

“It’s not just a door,” Five replied, crouching beside her. “It’s the entire mechanism—the key, the lock, and the path itself. The Commission uses these to travel between timelines.” He reached out, tapping the glowing center of the device. “This core is the heart of it all. It stabilizes temporal rifts, keeps them from collapsing. Without it, time travel would rip us apart before we’d even begun.”

She looked skeptical but didn’t argue. “And we’re overloading it?”

“We’re amplifying it,” Five corrected, his voice low but insistent. “Our powers—mine and yours—they’ll destabilize the core just enough to force it open wider than it’s designed to go. Big enough to create a wormhole.”

“Big enough to take us home?”

He met her eyes, his voice softening. “Big enough to try.”

(Y/N) nodded, her jaw tightening. There was no room for hesitation now.

Below them, the motorcade rounded the corner, the cheers of the crowd swelling in anticipation. The timing was perfect. Everyone’s attention was on the street, not the two siblings perched in the shadows above, plotting their escape.

Five and (Y/N) positioned themselves on either side of the briefcase. (Y/N) glanced at her brother, catching his eye. “Let’s do this.”

Five’s hands hovered over the core, crackling with the blue energy of his time manipulation. (Y/N) mirrored him, her own energy shimmering like fractured light. Together, they directed their powers at the core, their combined force making the air around them thrum with an almost unbearable intensity.

The core began to glow brighter, its hum rising to a near-deafening pitch. For a moment, everything seemed to stop—the world holding its breath as the device reached critical mass. And then, it happened.

The core erupted with light, a swirling vortex of energy spiraling outward. Five and (Y/N) braced themselves, their powers holding the rift steady even as the force threatened to tear it apart.

“It’s working!” Five shouted, his voice barely audible over the roar of the vortex.

But then, something shifted.

A second rift began to form, jagged and unstable, its edges crackling with chaotic energy. Five’s head snapped toward it, his face twisting with alarm. “No! It’s not supposed to do that!”

(Y/N) felt the pull immediately, a force like a tidal wave dragging her backward. Her boots scraped against the floor as she tried to hold her ground.

“Five!” she screamed, her voice raw with panic.

He turned toward her, his eyes wide. “(Y/N)!” He lunged, his hand outstretched, but the distance was too great.

The second rift widened, its pull intensifying. (Y/N) clawed at the floor, her fingers grasping at nothing as the vortex swallowed her whole.

And then, she was gone.

The world around her dissolved into chaos—a maelstrom of light and sound that defied comprehension. She tumbled through the void, weightless and disoriented, her mind struggling to process the kaleidoscope of colors and shapes flashing past her.

When she landed, it was sudden and violent, the impact knocking the breath from her lungs. The air here was different—cool and damp, carrying the faint scent of pine and rain. (Y/N) groaned, rolling onto her back, her vision swimming as she tried to make sense of her surroundings.

Above her, the sky was overcast, the clouds thick and gray. She pushed herself up on shaky arms, her gaze falling on the ground in front of her. A wooden sign stood crookedly in the dirt, its paint faded but still legible.

“Welcome to Forks.”

(Y/N) stared at the sign, her heart sinking. This wasn’t their timeline.

This wasn’t even their world.

•••

The sun barely broke through the dense canopy of trees above, streaking the forest floor with muted shafts of light. The air was crisp, tinged with the faint scent of pine and damp earth. (Y/N) moved cautiously through the woods, her boots crunching against fallen leaves and twigs. She was searching, always searching—though for what, she wasn’t entirely sure yet. Answers? Clues? A way back? Or maybe just confirmation that this was all some cruel cosmic joke.

Her mind churned with thoughts of Five and the wormhole gone awry. She clenched her fists as frustration bubbled beneath her calm exterior. “Typical,” she muttered under her breath, her voice sharp with sarcasm. “Leave it to the universe to drop me in some random backwater dimension. What’s next? Talking animals? A wizard in a pointy hat?”

As she pushed deeper into the woods, the faint trickle of water caught her attention. Following the sound, she emerged into a small clearing where a narrow stream meandered lazily through the landscape. Kneeling by the water’s edge, (Y/N) cupped her hands to take a sip, but the movement made her pause.

Something in the water caught her eye—her reflection.

(Y/N) froze, her breath hitching in her throat. Slowly, she leaned closer, the surface of the stream rippling as she moved. Staring back at her wasn’t the face she’d grown accustomed to over the decades. No faint lines at the corners of her eyes. No signs of the years spent enduring one apocalypse after another. Instead, the face in the water was… younger.

Much younger.

Her brows furrowed as she reached up, touching her face with tentative fingers, as if expecting the reflection to shatter under scrutiny. The skin was smooth, unmarked by time, her features vibrant and untouched by the wear of years. Her sharp eyes, still as calculating as ever, now carried a strange softness, a reminder of the innocence she’d long since buried.

“Seventeen,” she whispered bitterly, her lips curling into a half-smirk. “Of course. Why not? Because being trapped in a dimension of suburban mediocrity wasn’t enough—let’s toss in a teenage body while we’re at it.” She pulled back, sitting on her heels as she rubbed her temples.

Sarcastic quips aside, her mind worked fast, piecing together the implications. A body this young would mean less physical endurance, less muscle memory to draw on in a fight. She had decades of experience, but this… this was going to slow her down.

Still, she couldn’t help the small, humorless laugh that escaped her. “Guess I’m the universe’s idea of a punchline. Fine. Let’s see how funny it gets when I punch back.”

(Y/N) pushed herself up, brushing dirt from her hands. Her mind was already moving past the reflection, past the body, and back to the wormhole that had tossed her here. She had no idea where “here” was, but she knew one thing for certain: she wasn’t going to sit around waiting for the universe to dictate her next move.

“Five,” she muttered to herself as she scanned the horizon, the faintest trace of worry creeping into her voice. “You better be out there somewhere.”

With a final glance at the stream, (Y/N) turned on her heel and started walking again. She didn’t know where she was going, but direction mattered less than purpose right now. Answers wouldn’t come to her; she’d have to find them.

As she moved deeper into the forest, a thought occurred to her. If this world had a reflection of her younger self, what else did it have? Were there other versions of people she’d known? Friends? Enemies?

╰┈➤ summary : Five Hargreeves isn’t the only one who can break the universe. His twin sister, (Y/N), mastered slipping between dimensions—until one wrong move during their little “save the world” mission sent her spiraling into a whole new reality. Now she’s stuck in her teenage body, with 58 years’ worth of knowledge crammed into her head, reliving puberty like some cruel cosmic joke. As if that wasn’t bad enough, she’s trying to figure out how to extend her powers past their limit restrictions again, dodge existential crises, and, oh yeah, deal with a family of vampires constantly breathing down her neck. Yeah, shit sucks.

╰┈➤ chapter two :

The apocalypse wasn’t kind to anyone, but it had a particular cruelty reserved for Five and (Y/N). For forty years, they scraped by in a world turned to ash, clinging to survival and to each other. Every day was a test of endurance: hunting for food in barren cities, scavenging supplies from crumbling buildings, and staying sharp enough to avoid the traps left by time and desperation.

The twins weren’t strangers to hardship—they were Hargreeves, after all—but this was something else entirely. The weight of the end of the world pressed on their shoulders every second, yet somehow, they didn’t break. Maybe it was their shared sense of humor, biting and sarcastic as always, or maybe it was the bond only twins could understand. Whatever it was, it kept them alive.

•••

One night, after scavenging the wreckage of an old gas station, they managed to scrounge up enough dry wood to build a fire. It wasn’t much, just a flickering flame in the middle of endless ruins, but it was a moment of peace.

(Y/N) leaned back against a broken wall, her legs stretched out and her arms crossed over her chest. Her jeans were filthy, patched together with scraps of fabric she’d stolen from a long-forgotten mannequin. She glanced at her twin, who sat on the opposite side of the fire, fiddling with the prosthetic eyeball they’d found in Luther’s hand all those years ago.

“You ever think about what we’d be doing if this hadn’t happened?” she asked, breaking the silence.

Five didn’t look up. “We’d probably still be under Dad’s thumb, running around in those ridiculous uniforms and pretending we were a happy family.”

(Y/N) smirked. “Yeah, because this—” she gestured to the wasteland around them—“is such an upgrade.”

Five finally glanced at her, his face softening just slightly. “You think about it a lot?”

She shrugged, staring into the fire. “Sometimes. Not like it changes anything, though.”

They fell into a comfortable silence, the crackling of the fire their only companion. Then Five spoke again, his tone lighter. “Remember when we convinced Luther that the moon was made of cheese?”

(Y/N) snorted, covering her face with her hand. “He wrote a whole paper on it! Mom grounded us for a week when she found out.”

They laughed, the sound rare but genuine, echoing through the ruins like a ghost of the life they’d left behind. For a moment, the apocalypse didn’t feel so heavy.

•••

Not every day was calm. Some days, the apocalypse felt like it was actively trying to kill them. One of those days came when (Y/N) nearly lost her life to sheer bad luck.

They were scavenging the remains of a department store, hoping to find anything useful—canned food, medical supplies, even a clean pair of jeans if they were lucky. (Y/N) had wandered off, muttering something about needing pants that didn’t make her look like she’d walked out of a Mad Max movie.

“Stay close,” Five had called after her.

“Yeah, yeah,” she’d replied, waving him off.

Moments later, a loud crash echoed through the building. Five turned just in time to see (Y/N) disappear as the floor gave out beneath her.

“(Y/N)!”

He sprinted to the edge of the hole, peering down to see her sprawled among the rubble. She was alive, but she wasn’t moving much.

“I’m fine,” she called up, her voice strained. “Just… maybe not entirely fine.”

Five didn’t hesitate. He space jumped, landing awkwardly but uninjured. He crouched beside her, his eyes scanning her body for injuries. “What the hell were you thinking?”

“I was thinking I could walk on a floor without it collapsing,” she shot back, though her voice lacked its usual bite.

Her ankle was twisted at an odd angle, and there was a nasty gash on her arm. Five tore a strip of fabric from his shirt and wrapped it around the wound, tying it off with practiced ease. “You’re lucky you didn’t break your neck.”

“Yeah, yeah. Save the lecture and help me up.”

He slung her arm over his shoulder, hauling her to her feet. She winced but didn’t complain, leaning on him as they made their way back to safety.

•••

Time moved on, and so did they. The days turned into years, and the years turned into decades. Five and (Y/N) grew older— they never stopped searching for answers, always keeping the prosthetic eyeball close. It became a symbol of their quest, a reminder of the lives they’d lost and the mystery they were determined to solve.

It was on one of those endless days, in the middle of a crumbling building, that they met her.

She didn’t come with a warning. One moment, it was just the twins and the silence of the apocalypse. The next, there she was—a woman in an immaculate suit, standing in their territory like she owned the place.

Five was on his feet in an instant, shotgun aimed at her chest. (Y/N) followed suit, her own weapon trained on the stranger.

“Who the hell are you?” Five demanded, his voice sharp.

The woman raised her hands, a calm smile on her face. “I’m not here to harm you. I come with an offer.”

(Y/N) scoffed. “Yeah, because random strangers in the apocalypse always have the best intentions.”

The woman didn’t flinch. “I represent the Temps Commission. We ensure the proper flow of time and eliminate threats to the timeline. You two… you’re anomalies.”

Five narrowed his eyes. “And what do you want with us?”

“I want to help you,” she said simply. “You’re smart, resourceful, and clearly capable of surviving in even the harshest conditions. Join us, and we’ll give you a safe home, far away from all of this.” She gestured to the ruins around them.

The twins exchanged a look. They didn’t trust her, not even a little, but what choice did they have? Forty years was a long time to spend in hell.

“What’s the catch?” Five asked.

The woman’s smile widened. “No catch. Just a chance to make something of yourselves.”

It wasn’t much of a choice, and they both knew it. With nowhere else to go and no other options, the twins lowered their weapons.

“We’re listening,” Five said.

And just like that, their lives changed forever.

•••

The Temps Commission base was a fortress, a hidden, subterranean structure buried deep within the earth where time seemed to fold in on itself. For months now, Five and (Y/N) had worked tirelessly as expert hitmen, their every move orchestrated by the Commission. They had long ago given up any hope of returning to the normal world, but the promise of safety kept them under the Commission’s control.

Their training had been grueling—pushing both their minds and bodies to the brink. They had mastered everything, from close combat and marksmanship to stealth and assassination. But it was the mental conditioning that had been the most difficult. The Commission had molded them into perfect agents—calculating, methodical, and unflinching. Yet, despite the power and precision they wielded, the twins had never fully embraced their role. Every mission felt like another step away from who they once were.

Their shared room in the base was a small sanctuary—a necessity rather than a luxury. After years of solitude in the apocalypse, they couldn’t stand the thought of being separated now. The room was functional: two beds, separated by a small, battered nightstand where they kept their weapons. The walls were bare, and the harsh, sterile lighting gave everything an eerie, cold glow. It was nothing like the home they had once known, but it was theirs, and that was enough.

The dim, sterile lighting in their shared room cast long shadows across the walls. The hum of the base, a constant reminder of the Commission’s presence, faded into the background as Five sat at the edge of his bed, deep in thought. The quiet night held a weight of anticipation, thick with the knowledge that time—the one thing that had always slipped through his fingers—was within his grasp again.

(Y/N) was lying in her bed, arms folded behind her head, trying to find sleep in the eerie stillness. But the silence between them, though comforting in its familiarity, gnawed at her. She could sense something in the air, something that was different. She turned her head slightly, catching Five’s eyes glinting in the darkness. He had something to say.

“(Y/N),” Five whispered, his voice low but intense, as if each word carried the weight of their future.

She didn’t need any more prompting. Her eyes snapped open, and she lifted herself into a sitting position. “What is it, Five?”

“I’ve figured it out,” he said, his voice steady but filled with an urgency that made her stomach flip. “I know how we can get back. How we can change things.”

The words hung in the air like an electric charge, and (Y/N)’s heart began to race. She had never doubted Five’s ability to come up with a plan, but this time, the stakes were higher than they had ever been.

“Back to our time?” (Y/N) asked, her voice barely a whisper. “Back to the present? You mean… We could possibly fix everything?”

Five nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving hers. “Yes. As you know the Commission has the power to control time. And they have something we can use—something that will let us return to the moment before everything went wrong.”

(Y/N)’s brow furrowed. “Are you talking about the briefcases?”

Five’s lips twitched, almost imperceptibly. “Don’t forget dear sister - those briefcases, are time traveling devices in which we use for missions. It’s how Commission agents hop between timelines, fix things, maintain the flow of history.”

“Catching on now?” Five follows up.

“And we’re going to use one of them. The Handler already assigned us to a mission that’s key to what we need.” His tone turned more serious, more knowing. “Do you remember the mission we have coming up? JFK’s assassination?“

(Y/N) nodded slowly. “You’re supposed to kill JFK, and I was supposed to be your cover. Now what of it?”

Five’s gaze hardened, and his voice dropped even lower. “That’s right. They wanted me to pull the trigger on him. And you… they wanted you to be there to clean up the mess, to make sure we weren’t caught.”

(Y/N)’s stomach turned at the thought. It had always been a blur in her mind, a mission too big to fully process. The thought of killing someone, even for the Commission, had never sat well with her. And yet, they had always done what was necessary to survive.

“But you said you wanted to use the briefcase. How would that help us especially since they keep track of every agent out on a mission with the briefcase’s.” she asked, the sharp edge of curiosity cutting through the silence.

Five leaned forward, his hands clenched into fists, as if holding on to a secret too powerful to remain inside. “We take the briefcase. We use it. With my time travel abilities, and with your ability to travel through dimensions… combined with the power of the briefcase, we can create a wormhole. A rift big enough to take us back. Back to the moment before everything happened, before the apocalypse. We can save our siblings, save the world… save everything.”

(Y/N)’s mind raced.

“You’re serious,” (Y/N) said, her voice barely above a whisper. “You really think this could work?”

“I know it could,” Five answered, a fire burning in his eyes. “We’ve been working for the Commission for too long, (Y/N). We’ve bled for them, done their bidding. They aren’t going to let us go — hell they never were! We’re just pawns for their usage until they no longer see it fit. But if we take the briefcase—if we combine our powers—there’s a chance. A real chance to fix this. We can go back to the start, stop the apocalypse before it even happens.”

“And save the others…” she whispered to herself, the thought of their siblings alive again, the chance to change it all, filling her with an emotion she hadn’t let herself feel in a long time; hope.

Five wasn’t done yet. “We have to stop the end of the world no matter the cost.”

(Y/N) looked at him, studying the resolve in his face. She knew what he meant. This wouldn’t be easy. The Commission wouldn’t let them leave without a fight. But she also knew something else; that this might be their only shot.

“I’m with you,” she said, her voice steady. “Let’s do it.”

Five nodded, his face lighting up with a rare, knowing smile. “We’ll take the briefcase on our next mission, infuse the energy from both of our abilities as well as project it to the power core of the briefcase and escape through a wormhole back home.”

The room fell silent again, but the weight of the plan hung between them like a promise. The quiet of the base seemed louder now, as if the universe itself was holding its breath, waiting for them to take that first step.

╰┈➤ summary : Five Hargreeves isn’t the only one who can break the universe. His twin sister, (Y/N), mastered slipping between dimensions—until one wrong move during their little “save the world” mission sent her spiraling into a whole new reality. Now she’s stuck in her teenage body, with 58 years’ worth of knowledge crammed into her head, reliving puberty like some cruel cosmic joke. As if that wasn’t bad enough, she’s trying to figure out how to extend her powers past their limit restrictions again, dodge existential crises, and, oh yeah, deal with a family of vampires constantly breathing down her neck. Yeah, shit sucks.

╰┈➤ chapter one :

On October 1, 1989, the world witnessed something inexplicable. Forty-three women gave birth simultaneously, despite none of them being pregnant when the day began. Scientists scratched their heads, religious zealots screamed about miracles, and the rest of the world just… carried on, confused but not surprised in the grand scheme of things. After all, it was the ‘80s—strange stuff happened all the time.

Enter Sir Reginald Hargreeves: a billionaire, inventor, and full-time eccentric. When he wasn’t busy hoarding wealth or perfecting his monocle-wearing game, Reginald was hunting down those mysteriously born children. He managed to acquire—because “adopt” feels too soft a word—eight of them. How he convinced or coerced eight women to part with their newborns is a mystery only Reginald knew. All that mattered to him was that these kids weren’t normal.

They had powers, and Reginald had plans.

He called them the Umbrella Academy, because what else would you name a group of superpowered kids you were grooming to fight crime while neglecting to give them an ounce of emotional support? The man didn’t even bother with actual names; instead, he assigned them numbers, like some kind of dehumanizing inventory system. Number One through Number Eight.

It wasn’t until their robot mother, Grace—yes, robot mother—stepped in and decided these kids deserved actual names that things improved slightly. That’s how Five and his twin sister (Y/N) got their names. Grace, sweet and obliviously maternal, gave them names to set them apart. But truthfully, Five and (Y/N) never needed much help standing out.

They were the brains of the operation, the twin prodigies who saw the world in a way the others couldn’t. Their bond? Ironclad. While the rest of the siblings had their fair share of sibling squabbles, Five and (Y/N) always had each other’s backs. Sure, they bickered like any siblings, but if anyone dared to cross one, they’d deal with the wrath of both. And trust me, nobody wanted that.

Reginald quickly realized the twins were special in ways that made even him uncomfortable. Five could bend time, jumping forward or backward at will, though his control was far from perfect. (Y/N), on the other hand, had the uncanny ability to tear through dimensions—a power both fascinating and terrifying. Together, they were a walking paradox: too dangerous to ignore, too valuable to let loose.

But Reginald wasn’t exactly the nurturing type. His parenting style was… let’s call it “militant indifference.” Hugs? Never. Encouragement? Only if it served a purpose. Discipline? Constant and unrelenting. To him, these children weren’t kids—they were assets, tools to mold into a crime-fighting machine.

By the time they were ten, the Umbrella Academy had become a household name. They donned matching uniforms and fought criminals while cameras flashed in their faces. They were heroes, but not in the way the world imagined. Behind the carefully curated image was a family barely holding itself together.

Five and (Y/N) found solace in each other amid the chaos. While their siblings struggled with Reginald’s impossible expectations, the twins thrived, if only because they learned to shut everything else out. Their sharp tongues and cutting humor acted as shields, keeping everyone at arm’s length except for each other. They didn’t need anyone else—they had each other, and that was enough.

For a while, at least.

Because as much as Reginald prided himself on control, some things were beyond even him. Five’s obsession with time travel, for one. Despite warnings from their father (and yes, even from (Y/N), who rarely agreed with Reginald on anything), Five was determined to master his ability.

•••

The dining room was unnervingly silent, save for the rhythmic ticking of a clock mounted on the wall. Dinner had been a tense affair—like usual—with Reginald seated at the head of the table, the others spread around, picking at their food in varying degrees of discomfort. (Y/N) and Five, seated side by side, exchanged a glance that only twins could understand.

“Father,” Five began, his tone sharp enough to slice through the tension. “I’ve been thinking about time travel again.”

Reginald didn’t even bother to look up from his meal. “You’ve been warned about meddling with such things, Number Five. Your abilities are dangerous enough without adding your arrogance to the mix.”

Five’s jaw clenched, his hands curling into fists on the table. “You don’t get it. If I can just master it—”

“You can’t,” Reginald interrupted, finally meeting Five’s gaze with a cold, unwavering stare. “You are a child, barely capable of controlling the power you already have. Time travel is beyond you.”

(Y/N) sat up straighter, her eyes narrowing. “That’s not fair, and you know it. Five is twice as capable as you give him credit for.”

Reginald turned his piercing gaze to her. “And you, Number Eight, are equally as reckless. You encourage his defiance.”

“So what?” (Y/N) shot back. “You’ve done nothing but stifle us, treat us like experiments instead of people. Maybe if you actually trusted us—”

“Enough,” Reginald said, his voice low but firm, cutting her off. “I will not entertain your childish outbursts. The subject is closed.”

The silence that followed was deafening. Five’s face was a mask of fury, his eyes blazing with determination. Without another word, he stood abruptly, his chair screeching against the floor.

(Y/N) hesitated for a moment before rising as well, her loyalty to her brother outweighing any lingering fear of their father.

Five turned to her, his expression softening slightly. “You coming?”

She nodded, her jaw set. “Always.”

•••

Before anyone could stop them, Five raised his hand, a ripple of energy crackling in the air around him. In an instant, the twins disappeared, leaving the rest of the family in stunned silence.

They reappeared with a jolt, the world around them an unrecognizable wasteland. The sky was a sickly shade of gray, the air thick with ash and smoke. Buildings lay in ruins, twisted metal and debris scattered as far as the eye could see.

(Y/N) stumbled slightly, catching herself on Five’s arm. “What the hell…?”

Five’s face was pale, his usual confidence shaken. “This… isn’t right.”

“No kidding,” she muttered, her eyes scanning the devastation. “Where are we?”

Five swallowed hard, his voice barely above a whisper. “I think the real question is… when are we?”

The realization hit them both like a freight train. They hadn’t just jumped—they’d overshot. And whatever timeline they’d landed in… it wasn’t good.

The sky stretched endlessly above, now dark and oppressive, pressing down on Five and (Y/N) as they trudged through the ruined streets. Everything about the landscape screamed desolation: crumbled buildings, overturned cars, and the suffocating silence that came from the absence of life.

(Y/N) stopped abruptly, her breath hitching. Her eyes had caught on the familiar silhouette of a crumbled estate in the distance.

“Five,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

He turned to look, following her gaze to the shattered remains of what was once their home. The Umbrella Academy.

Their pace quickened, the twins pushing through rubble and ash until they stood at the edge of what used to be their family’s manor. It was unrecognizable now—just a heap of debris, charred wood, and bent steel.

“This can’t be happening,” (Y/N) murmured, her voice cracking.

Five’s jaw clenched as he stepped forward, his boots crunching over broken glass. He didn’t say anything. He couldn’t.

The first body they found was Allison’s. She was slumped against a wall, her ringed fingers still clutching a melted piece of the railing from the staircase that had once graced the entrance. Her wide eyes stared blankly, her beauty extinguished by the apocalypse.

(Y/N) turned away, her stomach churning. “No, no, no…”

Five knelt beside her, his expression unreadable but his hands shaking ever so slightly as he closed Allison’s eyes.

They found Klaus next, half-buried under a collapsed ceiling beam. Diego was a few feet away, his knives scattered uselessly around him. Ben’s memorial statue lay toppled and cracked in half, a grim echo of his short life.

The most haunting discovery was Luther. The towering Number One, once so full of purpose, now reduced to a lifeless shell. His oversized body was crumpled awkwardly, one massive hand clutching something. Five pried it loose, revealing a strange prosthetic eyeball. He stared at it, turning it over in his hand.

“What the hell is this?” he muttered, more to himself than to (Y/N).

She didn’t answer, too busy scanning the rubble for any sign of life. And then she saw it—a violin case, untouched by the destruction.

“Vanya…” she whispered, hope flickering for the briefest moment.

But there was no Vanya, only the case. It was as if the world had swallowed their sibling whole.

Silence stretched between the twins as they stared at the ruins of their home and the bodies of their family. (Y/N) finally broke it. “What now?”

Five slid the prosthetic eye into his pocket and stood. “We survive.”

•••

Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months. The twins adapted to the wasteland, scavenging for supplies, dodging falling debris, and learning to navigate a world devoid of humanity. They lived like ghosts in a dead world, their once-sharp sarcasm dulled by the weight of solitude and grief.

One day, while picking through the wreckage of a convenience store, Five froze. His eyes locked onto something—or other, someone.

A mannequin.

It stood propped against a wall, its torso intact but its lower half missing entirely, as if some great force had torn it apart and discarded the legs like trash. Its face was chipped and faded, but there was something about it that held Five’s attention.

“What are you doing?” (Y/N) asked, watching as Five gently picked up the mannequin’s remains.

“She needs a name,” he said simply, his tone unnervingly serious.

“Excuse me?”

“Delores,” he declared, cradling the mannequin like she was the most precious thing in the world. “Her name is Delores.”

(Y/N) stared at her brother for a long moment, then at the mannequin. “Well, if you’re taking the top half, I’m taking the bottom half. Those jeans look my size.”

Five didn’t argue.

(Y/N) pried the mannequin’s legs from the rubble, pulling off the jeans and shaking the dust from them. “There. At least she’s contributing to the team.”

Five shot her a withering look. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“No, you’re right,” she replied, pulling on the jeans. “I don’t understand your newfound obsession with broken plastic. But hey, to each their own.”

Delores became a third companion in their bleak little group. Five spoke to her often, filling the silence with conversations that made (Y/N) roll her eyes. But deep down, she understood. Delores was a distraction, a way to cope with the unrelenting loneliness of the apocalypse.

╰┈➤ chapters :

✭ chapter one

✭ chapter two

✭ chapter three

╰┈➤ summary : After losing his job and with nowhere else to go, (Y/N) ends up working as a maid for the Midoriya family. His soft features and quiet nature make everyone assume he’s a girl, and honestly, half the time he doesn’t bother correcting them—it’s just easier that way. Everything seems fine until Izuku comes home and meets their new “maid,” and things get awkward fast. What starts as a simple job quickly turns into a tangle of misunderstandings that neither of them saw coming.

╰┈➤ chapter eight :

The massive monitor in UA’s observation room displayed a dozen live feeds of the ongoing entrance exam. The room buzzed with low murmurs as teachers and pro heroes, some already instructors and others soon to join, watched the performance of the candidates. Each teacher kept an eye out for promising students who displayed potential and ingenuity.

“Hmm, that boy there,” Principal Nezu’s cheerful voice broke through the chatter as he gestured toward a feed displaying Izuku Midoriya. “The green-haired one. He’s quite… interesting, wouldn’t you agree?”

All Might, standing to the side with arms crossed, stiffened slightly but kept his expression neutral. The other teachers turned their attention to the feed.

“Hm, seems his quirk is causing him some harm,” Snipe observed, noting how Izuku’s body looked strained after a few impacts.

Ectoplasm nodded. “Yes, a raw power quirk, but at what cost? His arm looks to be on the verge of breaking. He won’t last long in a real fight unless he gains better control.”

Principal Nezu hummed thoughtfully, pulling out a folder. “Ah, Midoriya, Izuku. Let’s see…” He scanned the file. “An interesting note here: it seems this boy was registered as quirkless up until just over a week ago. Then he was retested, and now he has this quirk though it seems his body isn’t quite use to it yet and due to that it seems him using his quirk causes harm to him after each use . Very peculiar.”

The room fell silent for a moment, then the whispers began.

“Quirkless until a week ago?” Midnight raised an eyebrow. “That’s not impossible, but that also shouldn’t really be possible. I’m not saying it can’t happen but … it’s rare, especially at his age.”

Vlad King folded his arms. “Doesn’t seem natural. Late bloomers usually show signs before adolescence. Could he have undergone some… unconventional methods?”

All Might quickly stepped forward, a smile masking his rising unease. “Well, late-developing quirks aren’t unheard of!” he said, his voice booming in an attempt to redirect their focus. “But look—over there! That young boy.” He gestured toward another monitor.

All eyes shifted to the screen showing (Y/N), who was weaving through the streets with precision, his sword flashing as he slashed through villain bots. Unlike the other students, (Y/N) wasn’t focused on scoring points. Instead, he lingered near Izuku, always keeping the green-haired boy within sight.

Midnight tilted her head, scrutinizing the image. “Young boy? Are we sure? Look at the outfit.” She leaned closer to the screen, smirking. “That’s a maid outfit. Are we sure he’s not a girl?”

Nezu chuckled, unbothered. “No, no, that is indeed a young male. His file confirms it.”

He flipped open a sparse folder labeled Tokitō (Y/N). The teachers leaned in, curious about the boy who moved with such agility. However, their expressions turned puzzled when they saw the file’s contents—or lack thereof.

“Blank?” Cementoss frowned.

Nezu nodded. “Yes, very little is known about this boy. His age is listed down as 14, making him the youngest first year this school year, well if he gets accepted. And here…” He pointed to a specific section. “Where his quirk should be listed, it’s blank, stamped with quirkless.”

The room erupted into an uproar.

“Quirkless?!” Snipe exclaimed. “How’s that possible? Look at him! No quirkless kid could move like that!”

“Is this some kind of error?” Vlad King demanded. “He’s clearly doing things no ordinary person could.”

Recovery Girl, who had been quietly watching another monitor, finally spoke up. “Calm down, everyone. Watch the screen.” She gestured toward her monitor, which showed (Y/N) in action.

The teachers turned their attention back to the boy.

The zero-pointer had just appeared, causing chaos in its wake. Students scattered in fear, many too injured or paralyzed with terror to escape. Izuku had made his move, launching himself toward the towering robot to save a trapped girl. His punch connected with explosive force, destroying the robot’s head.

But as the zero-pointer began to collapse, its massive debris threatened to crush those still in its shadow.

That’s when (Y/N) sprang into action.

With a speed that defied belief, (Y/N) darted through the chaos, his sword flashing as he slashed at the falling chunks of metal. Each precise strike broke the debris into smaller, less dangerous pieces that scattered harmlessly to the ground.

“Look at that precision…” Ectoplasm murmured, his eyes wide.

“You can’t tell me that’s not a quirk,” Midnight said, astonished. 

As the dust settled, (Y/N) didn’t stop. He seemed to vanish and reappear in a blur, carrying injured students to safety. His movements were fluid, almost inhuman, as he avoided obstacles and kept calm under pressure.

Finally, he reached Izuku, who was lying on the ground, his arm shattered from the force of his punch. There beside him was a young female - the one who saved him. Without hesitation, (Y/N) hoisted the green-haired boy onto his back and picked the female up bridal style startling her and causing her to yelp. 

The female wrapped her arms tightly around the young males shoulders and neck as he dashed to where he had gathered the other injured students, setting the female down first then working towards setting Izuku down gently before standing guard over the group.

The room was silent, the teachers staring at the screen in disbelief.

“How…” Snipe began, but he couldn’t finish the sentence.

“That’s not possible,” Vlad King said, his voice low. “Not for someone quirkless.”

Principal Nezu, however, was smiling. “It seems we have two very interesting candidates this year,” he said, his tone light but thoughtful.

Recovery Girl nodded. “Quirkless or not, that boy has the heart of a hero. Look at what he’s accomplished—saving others, keeping calm under pressure, and doing it all without a quirk. We shouldn’t underestimate him.”

All Might, watching quietly from the corner, couldn’t help but smile. “Indeed,” he said softly.

On the screen, (Y/N) stood amid the chaos, his expression calm and unreadable as always. He adjusted the strap of his sword, glancing at the injured students to ensure they were safe before turning his attention back to the rest of the battlefield.

For the first time in years, UA had encountered a student they couldn’t quite explain.

╰┈➤ summary : After losing his job and with nowhere else to go, (Y/N) ends up working as a maid for the Midoriya family. His soft features and quiet nature make everyone assume he’s a girl, and honestly, half the time he doesn’t bother correcting them—it’s just easier that way. Everything seems fine until Izuku comes home and meets their new “maid,” and things get awkward fast. What starts as a simple job quickly turns into a tangle of misunderstandings that neither of them saw coming.

╰┈➤ chapter seven :

The moon hung high in the sky, casting its silvery glow through the partially open window of Izuku’s room. The sounds of the city outside were faint, muffled by the gentle breeze that swayed the curtains. Inside, the room was quiet, save for the scratching of a pencil against paper as Izuku jotted down notes in his hero analysis notebook.

(Y/N) was sprawled out on the floor, leaning against the bedframe with a book in hand, though his focus wasn’t entirely on the pages. He wasn’t much of a reader, but he didn’t mind accompanying Izuku in these late-night study sessions. It was a routine by now—Izuku doing his best to prepare for the future, and (Y/N) being… well, (Y/N).

“Hey, (Y/N)?” Izuku’s voice broke the silence, tentative and soft.

(Y/N) didn’t look up from his book, his gaze still fixed on the words he wasn’t really reading. “Hm?”

Izuku hesitated, tapping his pencil against his notebook. “The UA entrance exams… they’re coming up soon.”

(Y/N) gave a vague grunt in response, neither encouraging nor dismissive. It was just enough to show he was listening.

Izuku took a deep breath, the weight of his nerves evident in the way his voice wavered. “I mean… this is it. UA is the first step toward becoming a real hero. I’ve been working so hard for this, and I know Toshinori believes in me, but…” He trailed off, his hand tightening around the pencil.

(Y/N) finally glanced up, his expression unreadable.

Izuku continued, his words spilling out in a rush. “But what if I mess up? What if all this training wasn’t enough? What if—”

“Stop.” (Y/N)’s voice was firm, cutting through Izuku’s rambling. He didn’t say more, but the single word was enough to make Izuku pause and take a shaky breath.

There was a moment of silence, the kind that felt heavier than words. Then Izuku spoke again, his voice quieter this time. “It’s just… it’s scary, you know? Going alone. I mean, I know I’ll be surrounded by other people, but it’s not the same. You’ve always been there, even when I didn’t ask you to be. So…” He hesitated, then looked up, meeting (Y/N)’s gaze. “Would you… maybe want to come with me?”

A few moments of silence goes by, “For old time’s sake?” Izuku adds rather awkwardly. 

(Y/N) didn’t respond right away. He leaned his head back against the bedframe, staring at the ceiling as if deep in thought. Izuku fidgeted, his fingers tapping nervously against the notebook.

After what felt like an eternity, (Y/N) finally spoke. “For old time’s sake, huh?” His tone was unreadable, but there was a hint of something softer beneath his usual indifference.

Izuku nodded quickly. “Yeah. I mean, you don’t have to do anything. Just… be there. Like always.”

(Y/N) closed his book with a soft thud and stood up, stretching lazily. “Fine,” he said, his tone casual as if agreeing to something much smaller than accompanying Izuku to one of the most significant moments of his life. “But if you think I’m gonna hold your hand the whole time, you’re out of your mind.”

Izuku let out a nervous laugh, relief washing over him. “I wasn’t going to ask that! Just having you there is enough.”

(Y/N) smirked faintly, grabbing his sword from where it leaned against the wall. “Good. Because I’ve got better things to do than babysit.”

But as (Y/N) turned away, a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. Izuku didn’t see it, but it was there—a subtle acknowledgment of their bond.

• timeskip •

The gates of UA were even more imposing in person than they were in the pictures. The massive archway loomed over the crowd of prospective students, each one brimming with a mix of excitement and nerves. Izuku and (Y/N) stood just outside the entrance, taking it all in.

Izuku was practically vibrating with nervous energy, clutching his notebook tightly to his chest. “This is it,” he muttered, more to himself than anyone else. “The start of everything…”

(Y/N), on the other hand, seemed completely unfazed. He had his hands in the pockets of his maid uniform, his expression as unreadable as ever.

“You’re gonna wear yourself out before you even get inside,” (Y/N) said, glancing at Izuku.

Izuku gave a sheepish laugh. “I can’t help it. This is UA! The number one hero school! I just… I don’t want to mess up.”

“You won’t,” (Y/N) said simply.

Before Izuku could respond, the crowd began to move, and the two of them followed the flow of students through the gates. The atmosphere inside was electric, the air buzzing with anticipation.

As they entered the main hall, a booming voice echoed through the space, drawing everyone’s attention. Present Mic stood at the front of the room, his energetic demeanor instantly filling the room with excitement. He explained the rules of the practical exam, detailing how students would earn points by taking down villain bots while avoiding penalties for harming “civilians.”

Izuku listened intently, scribbling notes in his notebook, while (Y/N) leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed as he scanned the room. His gaze lingered on a few students who stood out to him but other than that he made no move to interact with them.

When the briefing ended, the students were led to the testing grounds. The large, sprawling cityscape was an impressive sight, with towering buildings and narrow alleyways designed to test the students’ abilities.

(Y/N) and Izuku stood side by side at the starting line, surrounded by other examinees. Izuku was practically shaking, his eyes darting around as he tried to come up with a strategy.

“Relax,” (Y/N) said, his voice calm. “You’ve got this. Just remember what we’ve been training for.”

Izuku nodded, taking a deep breath to steady himself.

Then the signal blared, and chaos erupted.

The students scattered, each one sprinting into the city to hunt down villain bots. Izuku hesitated for a moment, overwhelmed by the sheer scale of the exam, but (Y/N) gave him a light shove.

“Go,” he said. “Don’t waste time.”

Izuku nodded again and took off, determination replacing his nerves. (Y/N) watched him go, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

He didn’t move right away, instead taking his time to assess the situation. The other students were focused on taking down as many bots as possible, but (Y/N) noticed something they didn’t—the subtle patterns in how the bots moved, the way they seemed to respond to the students’ actions.

“Amateurs,” he muttered under his breath, drawing his sword.

With a single swift motion, he launched himself into the fray, his blade slicing through a group of villain bots with precision and ease. He moved like a shadow, his movements almost too fast to follow as he cut through the bots one by one.

Despite the chaos around him, (Y/N) remained calm, his focus unwavering. He didn’t go after the bots for points—he was here for one reason only: to watch over Izuku. And as he moved through the city, taking down any bot that got too close to his friend, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride.

Izuku was doing well, well as well as someone who hasn’t run into any boys And though (Y/N) would never admit it out loud, he was glad he had decided to tag along.

After all, some habits were hard to break.

╰┈➤ summary : After losing his job and with nowhere else to go, (Y/N) ends up working as a maid for the Midoriya family. His soft features and quiet nature make everyone assume he’s a girl, and honestly, half the time he doesn’t bother correcting them—it’s just easier that way. Everything seems fine until Izuku comes home and meets their new “maid,” and things get awkward fast. What starts as a simple job quickly turns into a tangle of misunderstandings that neither of them saw coming.

╰┈➤ chapter six :

It was a quiet afternoon at the park. The golden hues of the setting sun painted the sky in warm tones as (Y/N), Izuku, and Toshinori—who had opted to leave his towering, muscular form at home—sat together on a bench. Toshinori, currently in his skeletal form, was taking a break from his usual hero duties. (Y/N), though still indifferent, could tell there was a certain level of comfort in the air. Toshinori seemed to relax more than usual, without the pressure of being the larger-than-life symbol of peace.

The three of them had been sitting in silence for a while, watching the sun dip below the horizon. Izuku, with his usual spark of curiosity, was taking in the moment, his eyes wide, appreciating the rare calm.

“I’m glad we could take a break,” Izuku said, his voice light. “It’s nice to relax for a bit.”

(Y/N) glanced at the sky, the colors shifting and changing as the sun set. His expression was unreadable, as always. But despite the cold indifference, he couldn’t deny the moment’s peace. It was rare—too rare—but something about this setting felt like it was meant to be, like a calm before the storm.

Toshinori, still in his frail skeletal form, chuckled lightly. “You know, Izuku, it’s important to take breaks. The weight of the world can get to you if you don’t.” His smile, though softer in his current state, still had the same warmth as his iconic, heroic smile.

(Y/N) shifted slightly, his gaze drifting to Toshinori. He had never fully understood why someone like Toshinori would be so… devoted to helping others. From his perspective, it seemed like a never-ending cycle of exhaustion and responsibility. Then again, (Y/N) had always seen things differently. His focus was on the practical aspects—what worked and what didn’t. In his mind, Toshinori seemed lonely, constantly burdened by expectations. But he didn’t voice that. There was no need. He wasn’t here to analyze the man. He was here because Inko asked him to look after Izuku—and that was his job.

“You’re probably right,” Izuku said, staring off into the distance. “Sometimes, I feel like I’m always chasing after something—training, learning—trying to prove I can be a hero, just like you.” His voice dropped slightly, his uncertainty creeping in.

(Y/N) didn’t offer any comforting words. He simply observed, his expression unreadable as always, feeling the weight of his own silence. He wasn’t here to comfort Izuku. He was just… there.

Izuku leaned back on the bench, looking up at the sky. “I’ve been training so hard lately. Sometimes I wonder if I’m really getting anywhere…” His voice was filled with frustration but also a glimmer of hope, as always.

“You think I’m improving, (Y/N)?” Izuku asked, his eyes full of expectation, though his voice had a slight edge of doubt to it.

Before (Y/N) could respond, Toshinori gave a tired chuckle, adjusting his glasses. “You’re doing great, Izuku. Just remember that progress isn’t always visible right away.” He sounded reassuring, though (Y/N) could sense the exhaustion hidden behind the kind words. He was too perceptive for Toshinori to fully conceal it, but there was no need to address it right now.

The sound of laughter and chatter from some nearby park-goers filled the air for a few moments, but then, out of nowhere, the atmosphere shifted. A low hum filled the air—a strange, almost oppressive pressure that made the hairs on the back of (Y/N)’s neck stand on end. He immediately stood up, his body tensing as his instincts kicked in. There was no mistaking it—danger was approaching.

Izuku, sensing the shift, started to look around. “Huh? What’s happening?” he asked, his voice questioned.

Before Toshinori could respond or find a spot to transform into All Might, Izuku’s question was cut off by a familiar voice—(Y/N)’s voice, grumbling in annoyance. “Great. This is so not in the schedule…” He turned to Izuku, looking more exasperated than concerned. “I’ve got this whole day mapped out, and now some lowlife villain has to come and mess it all up.”

Izuku blinked, slightly confused but mostly surprised by the sudden change in (Y/N)’s demeanor. 

A figure stepped out from behind a row of trees, a villain who looked as though he had just walked out of some bad manga. He had messy hair and his entire body was surrounded by a swirling vortex of air—an airbender wannabe, from the looks of it. The villain sneered as he floated above the ground, his eyes locking onto the trio, focusing on Toshinori first.

The villain sneered. “I am the villain Vortex! I’ll teach three you a lesson you’ll never forget!”

Izuku, body language read that he was eager to jump into action but also nervous and maybe a bit fearful… perhaps a lot fearful actually, he turned his attention to Toshinori and their eyes locked as if they were having a silent conversation with one another.

But (Y/N) interrupted him with a bored groan, completely disinterested. “Ugh… so lame.”

 (Y/N) reached down to his side and pulled out a sword with one fluid motion. The sound of metal scraping against leather echoed in the park, making both Izuku and Toshinori stiffen in surprise. They hadn’t seen the sword before, and they both assumed it was some sort of prop or fake.

But when (Y/N) unsheathed the blade, they quickly realized it was very real—real enough to have weight in the air.

“You’re going to fight with that?” Izuku asked, his voice filled with surprise, even a little concern.

(Y/N) nodded without hesitation, his eyes narrowing as he looked at the villain. “It’s not a fight,” he said flatly. “It’s just… a minor inconvenience. I had everything in order for today, and this idiot’s messing with them.”

The villain, hearing this, was enraged. “What did you say to me, brat?! I’m not some minor inconvenience! I’ll—”

“Shut it,” (Y/N) snapped, turning his attention back to Izuku. “I had a full day planned. Training with you, afterwards a nap, maybe some ramen, but no. No - now I have to deal with this… wannabe airbender.” His tone was dripping with disdain, and the villain’s face twisted in fury.

“You’re dead, kid!” The villain roared, gathering all the air around him into a massive sphere before launching it at (Y/N).

Izuku flinched, but (Y/N) barely moved. In the blink of an eye, he darted forward, his sword slicing through the air in a swift arc.

“First form: Mist Bloom,” (Y/N) whispered under his breath, and the blade danced through the air, cutting the swirling air sphere in half. The force of the attack sent a shockwave through the park, but (Y/N) remained unfazed, his stance still composed.

The villain staggered back, his control over the air faltering for just a moment. He gritted his teeth, now more determined than ever. “No one cuts through my winds!” he bellowed, gathering more of the turbulent air to strike again.

This time, (Y/N) moved with even more speed, barely visible as he closed the distance. His sword flashed again, and he whispered, “Second form: Mist Crescent.” The blade arced through the air, this time cutting not just through the air but the very essence of the villain’s power.

The villain cried out in frustration, his body getting hit by a powerful gust of wind from his own attack as his control slipped completely. The force of (Y/N)’s blow had knocked him back once again, this time leaving him struggling to regain his bearings.

“You’re pathetic,” (Y/N) said with a sneer, his sword moving effortlessly. He wasn’t even breathing heavily yet. “You think this is impressive? It’s not. You’re just a low-tier joke.”

The villain’s face twisted with rage. He pushed more of his power into the wind, now surrounding himself with an impenetrable barrier of swirling air. “You think you’re better than me? I’ll show you—!”

“Third form: Mist Flash,” (Y/N) whispered, his voice barely above a murmur. The speed of the attack was blinding, the sword flashing as it cut through the villain’s wind barrier like butter. In one fell swoop, (Y/N) closed the distance and appeared in front of the villain, the blade tracing a perfect path through the air as it knocked the villain off his feet and sent him crashing into the ground.

The villain’s attack faltered completely, and he crumpled, unconscious, to the earth.

Izuku stared in awe. The entire fight had been over in mere seconds—(Y/N) had dismantled the villain’s defenses with a casual ease that left no doubt about his capabilities.

Toshinori watched, impressed but also slightly relieved. He had been ready to intervene, but he realized (Y/N) was more than capable on his own. He could feel the tension in the air even before the villain fully showed but now that the fights over the once tensed air begin to ease as the fight ended.

(Y/N) sheathed his sword with a soft click and turned to face Izuku, his expression unchanged. “Well, that’s that. Now, where were we? Oh right—your training. We’re done for the day. I’ve got it all scheduled, so no more interruptions, got it?”

Izuku was still wide-eyed. “Th-thank you! That was incredible!”

Toshinori chuckled softly, nodding. “Indeed, incredible… and fast. Well done, (Y/N).”

(Y/N) gave a shrug, his eyes flicking back toward the horizon. “Yeah, yeah. I want my nap.” 

Izuku couldn’t help but smile, a sense of awe lingering in his chest. If this was what (Y/N) could do in a few seconds, he couldn’t wait to see how much further he could push his training under his watch.

╰┈➤ summary : After losing his job and with nowhere else to go, (Y/N) ends up working as a maid for the Midoriya family. His soft features and quiet nature make everyone assume he’s a girl, and honestly, half the time he doesn’t bother correcting them—it’s just easier that way. Everything seems fine until Izuku comes home and meets their new “maid,” and things get awkward fast. What starts as a simple job quickly turns into a tangle of misunderstandings that neither of them saw coming.

╰┈➤ chapter five :

It had been a normal morning for (Y/N), that is, until he received the call from Inko. She was frantic, her voice a mixture of concern and embarrassment. Izuku had forgotten his lunch again, and with his schedule already packed, there was no way he could go home to get it. Inko, naturally, was worried that her son would be hungry for the rest of the day.

(Y/N) sighed, already knowing what was expected of him. It wasn’t like he had any personal attachment to the boy yet—he was just doing what Inko had asked. After all, it wasn’t much trouble, and the thought of Izuku going without lunch felt like a small, easily fixed problem.

But when Inko had asked him to run to the school, he hadn’t anticipated how dramatic it would turn out to be.

A few minutes later, (Y/N) was darting from rooftop to rooftop, the lunchbox in hand. The day was clear, and as he reached the school, his well-timed leap landed him smoothly on the window ledge of Izuku’s classroom. The students inside gasped, watching the maid-like figure—or rather, the feminine-looking male—gracefully land on the ledge like it was the most normal thing in the world.

Inside, the class was in session, and the teacher was in the middle of explaining something when the window suddenly creaked open. The teacher’s gaze shifted from the chalkboard to the window, where (Y/N) stood, almost casually. He knocked lightly on the glass.

With wide eyes, the teacher, still in shock, opened the window.

“Um… can I help you?” the teacher asked, his voice tinged with disbelief.

(Y/N) smiled politely, his voice calm. “I’ve brought Izuku his lunch. He left it at home.”

Izuku, sitting at his desk, turned to see (Y/N) standing in the window. His eyes widened in surprise as (Y/N) passed the lunchbox to him.

“Thanks, (Y/N),” Izuku said, a bit embarrassed by the attention, but grateful.

The moment the lunchbox was handed over, the murmurs from the class began. Whispers of curiosity and judgment flooded the air, but it was one voice that cut through the noise—the unmistakable, aggressive voice of Bakugou Katsuki.

“What the hell is this?” Bakugou’s harsh tone made everyone pause. “What kind of weirdo is this?”

Katsuki’s gaze shifted between (Y/N) and Izuku, his sharp eyes narrowing at the seemingly delicate figure standing in the window. He couldn’t quite place the strange vibe about (Y/N)—there was something off, something that didn’t sit well with him. Despite the feminine features, there was a hidden strength in the way (Y/N) held himself, and it bothered Bakugou. The other students were whispering, clearly fascinated by the unusual sight of a maid-like male in their classroom, and Bakugou didn’t like it. Not one bit.

“Oi, you’re a guy, right?” Bakugou demanded, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Why the hell do you look like that? You some kind of freak?”

(Y/N) didn’t flinch, his gaze steady and unamused as he locked eyes with Bakugou. “Not everyone fits your idea of what ‘normal’ is,” he said coolly.

That’s when the murmurs turned into full-blown mutters of jealousy, curiosity, and mockery from the other students. Some of them laughed under their breath, while others whispered about how (Y/N) must be doing something for Izuku. Bakugou’s stare was burning, his frustration growing. The teacher, still in shock, hesitated, unsure of what to say or do.

Finally, Bakugou’s patience snapped.

“After school. You and me. Fight me,” Bakugou snarled, pointing a finger at (Y/N), his hands clenched into fists. His tone was commanding, daring (Y/N) to refuse.

(Y/N) remained silent for a moment, considering the offer. He didn’t care about Bakugou’s attitude, nor did he particularly care about showing off. But something about the kid’s anger—his constant need to assert dominance—felt almost laughable. Still, (Y/N) knew it was best to teach him a lesson.

• timeskip •

When school let out, Bakugou was already waiting by the gates, looking agitated and eager to prove himself. The other students had gathered around, eager to see the fight. They expected Bakugou to wipe the floor with (Y/N), who was still dressed in his usual maid-like uniform, his expression calm, almost uninterested in the spectacle he was about to partake in.

(Y/N) strolled over to the designated area, his steps relaxed and measured. Bakugou’s eyes burned with frustration, his hands sparking with his explosive quirk as he prepared for the fight.

“Ready to get your ass handed to you, weirdo?” Bakugou yelled, his voice grating with annoyance.

(Y/N) didn’t answer, merely taking a step back and picking up a small, toothpick-sized stick that had been lying around on the ground. The crowd’s chatter grew louder, some of them snickering, thinking this was going to be a quick show of dominance from Bakugou. After all, who would take a fight seriously when their opponent was using such a puny weapon?

Bakugou sneered, readying his hands to explode. “You think you can beat me with that?” he mocked, already feeling the fire in his hands ignite. “Pathetic!”

Without warning, Bakugou lunged at (Y/N), his quirk flaring up. He threw an explosive punch, intending to blow the smaller figure away. But (Y/N), unfazed, side-stepped with ease, the toothpick-sized stick in his hand never faltering.

Before Bakugou could even process his failed strike, (Y/N) reached out, tapping the side of his face with the stick. It wasn’t hard, but the effect was immediate. Bakugou froze in shock, his body temporarily paralyzed by the sheer speed and precision of the tap.

“Is this really all you’ve got?” (Y/N) said, his voice low and almost bored. “You’re all bark and no bite.”

Bakugou’s face flushed with rage, his fists clenched tighter as he powered up for another strike. But this time, (Y/N) didn’t move. Instead, he stood there, his posture unbothered.

With a swift movement, (Y/N) pressed the stick against Bakugou’s chest, using just the slightest amount of pressure to send the blonde boy stumbling back, his body pushed off balance by the touch. The crowd went silent, surprised by how easily (Y/N) had dominated the fight.

Bakugou, now visibly fuming and humiliated, gritted his teeth. “You… you bastard…” he spat, struggling to regain his posture.

(Y/N) simply lowered the stick, a faint smirk on his face as he stepped back. “I don’t fight for entertainment, Bakugou. You’re not worth the time or energy.” His eyes narrowed. “Next time, don’t waste my time.”

With that, (Y/N) turned and walked away, leaving a stunned Bakugou, who stood in the middle of the crowd, seething. The other students stared at (Y/N), unsure whether they should be impressed or terrified by how easily he had subdued the explosive teen.

Izuku, watching from the side, felt a small sense of relief and admiration. He never expected someone like (Y/N) to not only stick around, but to also protect him—both in and out of school.

Bakugou was left to stew in his embarrassment, but deep down, he knew better than to challenge (Y/N) again. He had just met his match—and it was a match he never saw coming.

╰┈➤ chapters :

✭ chapter one

✭ chapter two

✭ chapter three

✭ chapter four

✭ chapter five

✭ chapter six

✭ chapter seven

✭ chapter eight

╰┈➤ summary : After losing his job and with nowhere else to go, (Y/N) ends up working as a maid for the Midoriya family. His soft features and quiet nature make everyone assume he’s a girl, and honestly, half the time he doesn’t bother correcting them—it’s just easier that way. Everything seems fine until Izuku comes home and meets their new “maid,” and things get awkward fast. What starts as a simple job quickly turns into a tangle of misunderstandings that neither of them saw coming.

╰┈➤ chapter four :

For the past few weeks, (Y/N) had been following Izuku around at Inko’s request. He didn’t mind; it wasn’t like it was an inconvenience. Izuku, unlike most kids (Y/N) had seen, seemed to have a deep drive to train, to push himself harder each day. (Y/N) wasn’t exactly sure what the boy’s goal was, but he was doing what Inko had asked—keeping an eye on him and making sure he didn’t push himself too far.

Izuku was dedicated to his training, even though no one knew about his secret sessions with All Might. The boy didn’t seem to let anything stop him. Most days, (Y/N) just watched from a distance, staying on the sidelines. He didn’t train, didn’t offer advice, and didn’t try to get involved. He simply observed, letting Izuku do his thing, as the task requested of him. It was simple enough.

Today was no different. Izuku was pushing himself hard, sweat dripping down his face, his breath coming in heavy gasps. (Y/N) remained quiet, watching the boy stretch and catch his breath. It wasn’t until Izuku stopped, his brow furrowing, that (Y/N) took notice. The boy looked over his shoulder, a mix of curiosity and suspicion in his eyes.

“Hey,” Izuku called out. “I’ve been meaning to ask… Why do you always follow me around? You don’t train, you just watch me. Why do you keep tagging along like this?”

(Y/N) didn’t show any signs of surprise, as though the question had been expected. He tilted his head slightly, his expression as unreadable as ever. “Inko asked me to keep an eye on you,” (Y/N) answered, his tone calm and steady, though there was no real warmth to it. “She’s worried you don’t have enough people your age around, so I’m here to make sure you’re alright.”

Izuku blinked, his face a little confused. “So… You’re here just because my mom asked you to? Like, as a favor?”

(Y/N) could sense the hurt starting to settle in Izuku’s voice. There was an undertone of disappointment in the boy’s words that wasn’t hard to miss. Still, (Y/N) didn’t react to it. This was just the way things were, wasn’t it?

“Yeah,” (Y/N) replied, not sugar-coating anything. “She’s just worried about your social life, or the lack of one. Thought it’d be good if you had someone around.”

Izuku’s shoulders sagged slightly, and he stared down at the ground, not saying anything for a moment. His voice, when it came, was barely above a whisper. “So… you’re only here because my mom asked you to? You’re just… a babysitter, huh?”

(Y/N) didn’t respond immediately. He could see Izuku’s discomfort, the hurt settling over him like a heavy blanket. But there was something about the way Izuku asked that made (Y/N) pause. The boy seemed so vulnerable in that moment, even though he was still trying to keep his usual determination intact.

“I guess you could say that,” (Y/N) said, his voice neutral. It wasn’t a complete lie, but it wasn’t the whole truth either. He couldn’t exactly explain the real reason he’d agreed to stay around. It was too complicated for words, and besides, what good would it do to burden Izuku with the details?

Izuku’s eyes were glistening with tears now, his expression wobbling between confusion and sadness. “So… you’re not really here because you want to be my friend? You’re just doing this because my mom told you to?”

The raw emotion in Izuku’s voice almost caught (Y/N) off guard. His instincts told him to brush it off, to not get involved. But he couldn’t ignore the way Izuku’s words cut through the calm exterior.

(Y/N) exhaled sharply, thinking for a moment before speaking again. “Inko asked me to keep an eye on you because… well, you’re the first kid my age I’ve seen in a while. Most people I work for don’t have kids my age, so when she mentioned you, I thought… why not? It seemed interesting to me, is all.”

Izuku stared at him, blinking through the tears now falling freely. “You mean… you wanted to hang out with me because… you don’t have anyone else your age around?”

(Y/N) nodded, his gaze shifting away from Izuku for a moment, briefly distracted by the changing clouds in the sky. There was a strange, almost peaceful quality to the moment, but he quickly snapped his attention back to Izuku. “Yeah. Maybe. I thought… it might be good to have someone around my age to talk to.”

Izuku’s breath hitched, and he took a shaky step forward, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. “That… that would be really nice, you know? I don’t really have any friends. I thought… maybe I was just too weird, too different for anyone to want to be friends with me.” His voice cracked slightly, his tears flowing faster.

(Y/N) was silent, watching the boy’s tears fall in a steady stream. He couldn’t quite bring himself to say anything that would make it better. Izuku was so open, so vulnerable in that moment. And yet, (Y/N) couldn’t bring himself to be the one to comfort him.

“Are you sure?” Izuku whispered, his eyes wide, as if searching for any trace of sincerity. “You really want to be my friend?”

(Y/N) didn’t know how to answer. He didn’t want to lie outright, but he also didn’t want to hurt the boy. So, instead, he said nothing, merely giving him a small nod, as if it would somehow be enough.

Izuku’s expression softened slightly, his tears still coming, but this time it seemed like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He looked up at (Y/N), his lips quivering as a small smile formed. “I’d really like that… I really would.”

(Y/N) blinked, an odd sensation settling in his chest. The smile on Izuku’s face was so genuine, so filled with hope that for a moment, he found himself unsure of how to react. There was a tug in his heart, something unfamiliar. It wasn’t like anything he’d felt before.

Izuku continued to cry, but now, it wasn’t out of sadness—it was a relief, a sense of something real, finally. And for the briefest of moments, (Y/N) almost felt the need to pat him on the back, to say something reassuring. But he couldn’t. He wasn’t good at that.

Instead, his gaze drifted upward, and he saw a cloud drifting lazily through the sky. It was a peaceful, slow-moving thing, white and fluffy. “Huh,” (Y/N) muttered, almost to himself, “I wonder what kind of cloud that is.”

Izuku, still sniffling, didn’t respond immediately, as he was lost in his own thoughts. (Y/N) looked at him for a moment longer, his eyes softening just a little, but he quickly turned his attention back to the sky. The cloud had already moved past, leaving nothing but a small memory of its presence.

“Maybe… maybe it’s a sign,” Izuku whispered, his voice still shaky but filled with a small flicker of hope.

(Y/N) didn’t reply. Instead, he just looked at the sky, his mind drifting along with the cloud, unsure of what the future held, but for once, his thoughts weren’t entirely clouded with indifference.

╰┈➤ summary : After losing his job and with nowhere else to go, (Y/N) ends up working as a maid for the Midoriya family. His soft features and quiet nature make everyone assume he’s a girl, and honestly, half the time he doesn’t bother correcting them—it’s just easier that way. Everything seems fine until Izuku comes home and meets their new “maid,” and things get awkward fast. What starts as a simple job quickly turns into a tangle of misunderstandings that neither of them saw coming.

╰┈➤ chapter three :

It had been a few days since (Y/N) started working at the Midoriya household. The routine had become familiar—waking up early to clean the house, prepare meals, and help Inko with whatever she needed. The tasks were simple enough, and the house had a warm, cozy feel to it. Izuku still found it strange to have a maid, but he quickly grew used to the idea. What he didn’t know, however, was that there was more to (Y/N) than just the quiet, graceful maid who served him tea and washed the dishes.

One afternoon, after coming home from school, Izuku walked through the front door with a sigh of relief. It had been a long day filled with quirk training and lessons, and he was looking forward to some peace and quiet. As he kicked off his shoes by the door, he noticed something that struck him as odd: the house was unusually silent.

He called out, “Mom?” but received no answer.

Inko was usually downstairs, bustling around, or doing something around the house. Izuku figured she must have been napping upstairs. But where was (Y/N)? He hadn’t seen them all day, and that wasn’t normal.

Izuku wandered through the house, searching for (Y/N). It wasn’t like him to be out of sight for so long.

He finally headed towards the backdoor, the sound of something strange drifting to his ears—a whooshing sound, followed by the scrape of something heavy hitting the ground. Curiosity got the better of him as he pushed the door open, and what he saw immediately stopped him in his tracks.

In the backyard, (Y/N) was swinging a broomstick around, moving fluidly as he spun and twirled. His movements were precise, as if he were wielding a real sword. Izuku’s eyes widened. The way (Y/N) moved was almost mesmerizing. Every swing of the broomstick looked so calculated, so skilled—it was like something out of a martial arts movie.

Izuku watched in awe, unable to look away, even as (Y/N) performed a series of complex movements that seemed to flow perfectly one after the other. His feet didn’t falter, his posture was perfect, and the broomstick sliced through the air as if it were an extension of his body.

Then, with a swift swing, (Y/N) broke the broomstick in half. The wooden handle cracked with a sharp snap and fell to the ground.

Izuku blinked, speechless. His brain was trying to process what he had just witnessed.

“Wait… what was that?!” Izuku whispered to himself. His mind raced as he stared at (Y/N), who was now casually placing the broken broomstick aside, as if nothing had happened.

Before Izuku could even react, he rushed toward (Y/N), his excitement getting the better of him. “That was amazing!” he exclaimed, his voice high with excitement. “What did you just do?!”

(Y/N) turned to him, a calm and collected look on his face as usual, though he couldn’t help but feel a small smile tug at his lips. Izuku was always so animated, so easily impressed. It was almost funny how easily he could be swept up in a moment.

“Well, it’s just something I learned a while ago,” (Y/N) said, choosing his words carefully. “A family friend taught me some basic moves for self-defense. I didn’t really have a quirk, so I had to find other ways to defend myself.” He avoided mentioning the specific training he’d undergone—he didn’t want to reveal too much.

Izuku nodded enthusiastically, eyes still wide with admiration. “Self-defense?! That’s awesome! But… what about that last move? I saw something—I don’t know, it looked like—like slashes or something? It was like… a mist appeared out of nowhere even though it’s a perfectly sunny day or something!”

(Y/N) blinked, surprised by the mention of mist but quickly masked his reaction. He needed to stay calm, not give anything away. He had to be careful not to reveal too much.

“Huh?” (Y/N) said, his expression thoughtful as if trying to understand what Izuku was talking about. “Must? I’m not sure what you mean.” He gave a light shrug, his calm demeanor not changing. “You probably just imagined it. You know, the wind can play tricks on your eyes sometimes, especially when you’re excited.”

Izuku blinked, his brows furrowing in confusion. “But it really looked like something… like the mist rolled in from no where and everywhere at once! I swear it was—”

(Y/N) smiled softly, cutting him off with a gentle laugh. “Izuku, you’re probably just seeing things. You know how your mind can play tricks on you when you’re so focused on something? You’re probably just a little too excited. No big deal.”

Izuku hesitated, his excitement quickly fading as he processed (Y/N)’s words. He felt a little embarrassed for making such a big deal out of it. “Oh… yeah, I guess you’re right,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. “Maybe I did just imagine it. It looked so real, though…”

(Y/N) gave him an assuring smile, his voice smooth as ever. “It happens to the best of us. No harm in it.”

Izuku’s frown softened, and he nodded, still feeling a bit sheepish but ultimately convinced. “Yeah, you’re right. Thanks, (Y/N).”

“No problem,” (Y/N) replied, his expression unchanged. He quickly picked up the broken broomstick and gave Izuku a small nod before heading toward the house.

Izuku stood there for a moment, scratching his head, still not fully sure about what he’d seen, but trusting (Y/N)’s explanation. For now, he was just happy to have witnessed something so impressive.

As always, (Y/N) had managed to keep his secrets intact, and Izuku was none the wiser.

╰┈➤ summary : After losing his job and with nowhere else to go, (Y/N) ends up working as a maid for the Midoriya family. His soft features and quiet nature make everyone assume he’s a girl, and honestly, half the time he doesn’t bother correcting them—it’s just easier that way. Everything seems fine until Izuku comes home and meets their new “maid,” and things get awkward fast. What starts as a simple job quickly turns into a tangle of misunderstandings that neither of them saw coming.

╰┈➤ chapter two :

The quiet of the early morning was broken only by the sound of Izuku Midoriya’s footsteps as he trudged home, sweat dripping from his brow and his legs aching after another grueling training session with All Might. His hoodie clung to him, damp with effort, and his mind buzzed with thoughts of how to improve his techniques.

As he reached his front door, he paused. From inside, he could hear the warm, melodic sound of his mother’s laughter. It was rare for her to laugh so freely, given how much she worried about him and his hero dreams. Curious and slightly confused, Izuku pushed the door open and stepped inside.

“Mom?” he called out, slipping off his shoes and setting his bag by the door.

“In here, sweetie!” Inko’s voice chimed from the kitchen, her tone light and cheerful.

Izuku followed the sound, the ache in his legs forgotten for the moment. As he stepped into the kitchen, he stopped short, his green eyes widening at the sight before him.

Seated at the table with his mother was someone he didn’t recognize. At first glance, he thought it was a girl—long, flowing black-and-teal hair framed their face, and they wore a perfectly fitted maid dress that flared out slightly at the knees. Their delicate features were smooth and symmetrical, with porcelain skin that almost seemed to glow in the soft light.

“Oh, Izuku!” Inko said, turning to him with a bright smile. “You’re back early! Did training go okay?”

“Uh… yeah,” Izuku replied automatically, his gaze flickering back to the stranger sitting at the table.

Inko followed his gaze, then gestured toward the person beside her. “Izuku, this is (Y/N). He’s our new maid!” she said brightly.

The word “he” made Izuku’s brain screech to a halt. His jaw slackened as he blinked at the figure sitting across from his mother.

“Huh?” he muttered, unable to process what she’d just said.

The stranger—(Y/N)—turned his head slightly to meet Izuku’s gaze. His movements were slow, deliberate, and calm. Cool teal eyes framed by impossibly long lashes locked onto Izuku’s green ones.

“Hello,” (Y/N) said softly, his tone even and composed.

The voice hit Izuku like a punch to the gut. Low, smooth, and unmistakably masculine. He blinked again, his gaze darting back to the maid dress, then to the delicate face, and back again. His mind struggled to reconcile what he was seeing with what he was hearing.

“Wait,” Izuku began slowly, his voice rising an octave as he pointed at (Y/N). “He… he’s a boy?”

(Y/N) tilted his head slightly, his expression calm and unreadable. “Yes,” he replied simply.

“HUH?!” Izuku squealed, the sound echoing through the small house.

Inko jumped slightly, startled by his outburst. “Izuku, calm down!” she said, though she couldn’t help but laugh softly.

Izuku’s face burned a bright red as he pointed frantically at (Y/N). “But—he—he’s wearing a maid dress!”

(Y/N) blinked slowly, his teal eyes never leaving Izuku’s. “It’s comfortable,” he said, his voice steady and unbothered.

Izuku gawked, his mind still short-circuiting. The calmness in (Y/N)’s voice and demeanor only made the situation feel more surreal.

“See?” Inko said, smiling at her son. “He’s been so helpful already! I’m sure you two will get along just fine.”

Izuku’s gaze flicked back to his mother, his face still bright red. “M-mom,” he stammered, lowering his voice, “we need to talk about this later.”

Inko chuckled, waving a hand dismissively. “Oh, don’t be so dramatic, Izuku. You’ll get used to it.”

“Get used to—” Izuku cut himself off with a groan, running a hand through his messy hair. He turned back to (Y/N), who was now calmly sipping tea as though none of this chaos involved him.

(Y/N) met Izuku’s gaze again, his expression as calm and unreadable as before. “Do you need something?” he asked, his tone polite but detached.

“N-no!” Izuku squeaked, shaking his head furiously. “I-I’m fine!”

“Good,” (Y/N) replied, setting his teacup down with precise care.

Izuku groaned again and stomped out of the kitchen, his face still burning. He wasn’t sure how he was supposed to “get used to” this, but one thing was certain: this was going to be weird.

╰┈➤ summary : After losing his job and with nowhere else to go, (Y/N) ends up working as a maid for the Midoriya family. His soft features and quiet nature make everyone assume he’s a girl, and honestly, half the time he doesn’t bother correcting them—it’s just easier that way. Everything seems fine until Izuku comes home and meets their new “maid,” and things get awkward fast. What starts as a simple job quickly turns into a tangle of misunderstandings that neither of them saw coming.

╰┈➤ chapter 1 :

It was far too early in the morning for most people to be awake, but (Y/N) was no stranger to odd hours. Dressed in a black maid’s uniform that fell just below his knees, he walked briskly down the dimly lit streets. The soft swishing of the skirt was oddly calming; he found the outfit freeing in a way he hadn’t expected when his former employer had mistakenly assumed he was female. Not that it mattered anymore—he’d been fired yesterday.

The memory of his firing was hazy, like most things. His forgetful nature made even significant events feel distant, but one detail stood out: the conversation.

“You’re fired,” his boss had said bluntly.

(Y/N) had tilted his head, confused. “Who are you again?”

It hadn’t gone over well. Regardless, he’d left the job without much protest, thinking only of his next steps. Homelessness wasn’t appealing, so finding another job was now his top priority.

As he walked, his sharp eyes caught a glimpse of a green-haired boy jogging in the opposite direction. The boy was clearly exhausted but determined, sweat dripping down his face as he pushed himself forward. Not far behind, a woman stood on the sidewalk, clutching her robe tightly around herself. She looked worried, her gaze fixed on the boy as he disappeared into the distance.

(Y/N) slowed his pace, curiosity piqued. The woman’s anxiety was palpable, and before he even realized what he was doing, he stepped closer, his silent movements startling her.

“Ah!” she gasped, spinning around. Her wide eyes locked onto his, and she pressed a hand to her chest. “You scared me!”

“Sorry,” (Y/N) said calmly, his voice soft but steady. “You seemed worried. Can I help?”

The woman hesitated, studying him. Despite the maid’s uniform, his demeanor was calm and collected. “It’s my son,” she admitted after a moment. “He’s been pushing himself too hard lately…training. I just—” She stopped, shaking her head. “Never mind. It’s not your concern.”

“I can be whatever you need,” (Y/N) said simply.

Her brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

He held up a hand and began counting on his fingers. “A butler, a maid, a babysitter, a cleaner, a bodyguard…” He paused, noticing how her expression shifted at the last option.

“A bodyguard?” she repeated, her tone skeptical.

“Yes.” His expression remained blank, though his tone carried a faint hint of confidence. “I can protect him if that’s what you’re worried about.”

The woman, Inko, looked him over carefully. Despite his slight build and unassuming appearance, there was something about him—an air of quiet strength. But before agreeing, she asked cautiously, “How much do you charge for your…services?”

“A warm meal and a place to rest my head,” he replied without hesitation.

Her eyes softened, and she frowned slightly. He was homeless, wasn’t he? That explained a lot. Her heart ached at the thought of this young person out on the streets. She nodded, deciding then and there. “Alright. Follow me.”

She led him into her modest home, guiding him to a small guest room. “It’s not much, but you’re welcome to stay here.”

(Y/N) stepped inside, his gaze sweeping the space. It was plain but clean, with a neatly made bed and a small dresser. He set down the small bag he carried and turned to Inko as she said, “I hope this will do… Miss?”

He blinked, tilting his head slightly before saying, “Oh, yeah, by the way…I’m a boy.”

Inko froze, her face flushing with embarrassment. “Oh! I-I’m so sorry! I thought—because of the dress—”

“It’s fine,” he said, unbothered. “It’s comfortable.”

She nodded quickly, still flustered but relieved he didn’t seem offended. “Well, um, rest up, and we can talk more later. I’ll prepare breakfast.”

(Y/N) gave a small nod and turned back to the room, sitting on the edge of the bed. It was warm here, and the idea of stability—even if temporary—eased a tension he hadn’t realized he was carrying.

For the first time in what felt like forever, he allowed himself to relax. This new job might be unconventional, but he had a feeling it would be interesting.