#kinkfic

It's then that Jason realizes he started to lose his erection. Fuck. 

So he goes with the easiest solution — he looks up at Percy above him, and takes it in.

Percy hasn't been skinny since he was maybe fourteen— he's a little closer to it than Jason, though that isn't saying much. He's stocky and solid, his muscle formed by swimming and hammering on a snare; his height comes from his long, sturdy legs. He's soft in some places and firm in others, with an absolutely specfuckingtacular ass. 

Jason could draw him from memory easily, and has, but it's nothing like when Percy sits for him. He can stare as long and as intently as he likes, and he doesn't have to explain to himself why he feels such an intense desire to.

Percy can tell that it's working, obviously, and he's got hope in his mermaid eyes as he rocks gently in Jason's lap, but it seems that two can play at excessive caution. 

"I need an answer, please," he nudges quietly. 

Jason puts his hands on Percy's hips and presses lightly into his skin. 

"Kelly." 

Percy grins, his whole face lighting up with it. 

"It's a good thing you've spent so much time nerding out at me about paint, or I might have asked you who the fuck Kelly is and why you're calling their name while you're—" 

"Shut up and keep moving," Jason interrupts, gripping tighter. He can feel himself grinning too, and Percy's getting worked up again, but not enough— not if he's still talking that clearly. 

It works as intended, and Percy shudders in a fluid motion that rolls down his spine. 

“What are you doing here?” Dean had shot up from his chair when you walked in.

“Sam called.” You smiled as the door shut behind you and dropped your bag to the floor. You walked towards Sam, cupping his face once he was within reach and bringing him in for a kiss. “Something about a milk emergency? What’s the emergency.”

“We’re out, and someone’s impatient.” he motioned towards Dean with his head. “He also keeps saying ‘Breast is best’ so I figured, let’s show him how right he is.”

“Sammy-”

“Okay.” you stepped back from Sam and lifted your shirt up over your head.

Dean stared as you let the shirt drop to the floor and backed towards the bed. Sam followed, licking his lips like a hungry little puppy, but Dean stood stunned and unsure what was happening.

His mouth went dry as you unzipped the silver and black zipper at the front of your bra, the weight of your full breasts finally being freed making it fly open. He watched you shrug your shoulders, the straps sliding down your arms and you caught it before it could fall to join your shirt. And then he was hit in the face with it, his hand coming up to hold the cup and bring it slowly down and off his face, savouring the smell of you on it. Small stains from leaked milk on the plush black material and his mouth wasn't dry anymore. His eyes coming up to watch you again as you crawled up the bed, Sam stalking you as you settled.

"Coming, Dean?" It was breathy and sweet, coming out just as Sam moved over you and latched on to your left breast. "I'm so full it hurts."

He had to swallow down the saliva that filled his mouth before he drowned in it. He watched Sam settled beside you, grabbing your thigh and bringing it up, his hips rocking out to grind against it. "I-" There was no turning back from this. Could he really be that intimate with his brothers girlfriend?

"So much better than from a bottle. And it feels so good. Help me out, I'm aching to be emptied. Please?"

With a quiet and awkward nod, Dean slowly moved around the bed to your right side. Your fingers were raking through Sam's hair as you smiled up at Dean.

Once in next to you, he was unsure, eyes going between his brother happily sucking away, to the breast offered to him. "How do I…"

"How do you usually start?" Dean's eyes met yours. "When you pick up some girl, and the clothes are gone, tits in your face, how do you start?"

"But you’re not just some girl.." it was a whisper, one probably not meant to be spoken out loud, but it made you smile.

His hand crept up, hovering over your skin as it moved over your side and up to your breast. Finally, after a moment of hesitation, his skin touched yours. His rough and calloused fingers, from a lifetime of hunting and working on cars, met the soft and supple flesh of your breast. He let out a quiet sigh, the breath of it blowing over your nipple and warmed your skin, as he gave your breast a squeeze. When droplets of milk started to ooze out, he glanced up, his eyes meeting yours before his head ducked down and he lapped it up with the flat of his tongue.

“Take your time, Dean.” you whispered softly, fingers carding through his hair much like your other hand was doing to Sam. “You’re doing good.” That bit of encouragement was all he needed, it seemed, because his lips closed around your nipple and you couldn’t stop the moan that fell from your lips if you tried.

Sam’s eyes opened at the sound of your moan, and he looked across at his brother. He watched how Dean squeezed the breast, coaxing milk out before he started to drink it down. All the lines that normally etched Dean’s face were virtually gone. Dean wasn’t even this relaxed in his sleep, not with the things that plagued his dreams. Content to finally provide his big brother with something needed, Sam closed his eyes and enjoyed the fresh milk and the smell of you that came with it.

Sam’s hand gripped your thigh tighter, pulling it further against him as he rolled his hips forward, grinding his growing bulge against you.

"Sam.." you moaned softly, turning your head towards him. "You're killing me, here.."

Letting the nipple fall from his mouth, he brought his lips up to yours, parting your lips with his milk coated tongue and making you moan again. "I'm so glad you're here." He brushed his nose across yours. "Gonna fuck you so good."

You chuckled softly, nipping at his bottom lip. "Let Dean drink. When he's done, I'm all yours."

Sam let out a groan, his bottom lip thrust out in an over exaggerated pout as he brought himself back down to let his teeth scrape over your hardened nipple. "Guess I can wait a bit longer.." he mumbled into your skin.

You woke up to the sound of the bedroom door creaking open. Shifting to look over and past Sam, one eye shut against the onslaught of light from somewhere in the bunkers hall, you saw a head peeking in, and heard a quiet. "Y/N?"

"Dean?" Your voice croaked with sleep.

"You awake?"

"I am now." You teased, now rubbing at your eyes. "What's up?" you cleared your throat. Dean just stood there quietly, as if now that he was there, he wasn't sure what he'd gone there for. "Can't sleep?"

"Yeah..." he whispered.

"Nightmares?"

The door creaked open just a bit more, enough to see him shrug his shoulders. “This last case.. those  kids.. I just..”

“You need to relax. Need a drink?”

He shook his head. “Beer isn’t doing shit-” then he stopped, realizing what you were saying. “Yeah.. yeah, I need..” he cleared his throat. “I brought my bottle-”

You chuckled, shifting a bit. “We’re beyond that by now, Dean.” you gave Sam a nudge, and he grumbled in his sleep, moving barely two inches but it was enough room for you to scoot over and make some space for Dean. You gave the empty space a pat. “Come on.”

He slid past the door, stepping into the room and pushing it gently behind him so it was only left open a crack. “Won’t Sammy mind?”

“Did he mind when you milked me like a cow into your coffee last week?” you teased, smiling because you just knew his face was bright red at the memory. “Or drinking from me while you ate when you two got home from the hunt yesterday.”

“Okay, but.. Sam was drinking too-”

“Just get in here, Dean.” You peeled back the corner of the comforter that covered both you and Sam, and Dean finally moved for it, placing his bottle down on the night table as he lifted the comforter and slipped in next to you.

Your shoulder up against Sam’s back, you lowered the blanket enough for your breasts to be freed and you could tell, even in the dark, that Dean was staring. “You’re-”

“I sleep with your brother, Dean. He’s like a goddamn human furnace, and he likes to feed when he wakes up. If I bothered with clothes, he’d just rip them to shreds and shit’s expensive when you’re fat.”

“Right.. Yeah.. I- uh, I guess I would too..” he chuckled awkwardly.

“You’d sleep naked next to your brother?”

“Don’t be a smart ass.” he snapped, all awkwardness from a moment ago forgotten and you smiled. “I’m not-”

“I’m kidding, Dean. I know what you meant.” You made sure you were comfortable enough on your back to be stuck that way for a while, fixing your pillow just right and slipping your arm past Dean’s shoulder to card your fingers through his hair and then down his back.

He didn’t need words anymore, he didn’t need to ask. His hand cupped your breast gently at first, fingers moving softly to coax the milk out before he squeezed and lapped up the milk that leaked forward with a soft moan.

“You’re getting good at that..” you whispered, fingers moving up the side of his neck and into his hair.

“You taste so good.” he muttered moments before opening his mouth and latching onto your hardened nipple.

“Fuck.” With your eyes closed, you put a bit more pressure on his scalp with your fingertips as you bring them back down through his hair and down his neck, trailing as far down his back as you can reach before moving back up again.

You shift a bit, squeezing your thighs together as your hips roll like they’re searching for something. And it’s like Sam can smell it, or maybe it’s the hand that you realize Dean is now running across the soft roll of your stomach, maybe it brushed against Sam’s back before he brought it back across, but either way, Sam rolls.

His eyes don’t even open, he just instinctively seeks out the closest breast and latches on, and it’s only when he hears the moan, feels another shift, that he opens his eyes and sees his brother across from him. You aren’t quite sure if it’s growl, or groan that comes from his chest, but he’s grabbing at your thigh, pulling your leg up to grid against it, as he does, only this time, he pushes two fingers knuckle deep and smiles to himself when your back arches at the feel of his digits stretching you.

Dean’s eyes fly open, but Sam’s are closed again, happily drinking away, but the movement under the comforter is obvious. Even if he couldn’t feel you moving next to him. It's only more obvious when you spread your legs further, and he feels you brush up against his growing bulge. His eyes trail down, and his sucking almost stops as he watches the steady motion of the comforter. Up and down, up and down, the feel of you brushing against him as you roll with it. He bites down on his bottom lip, hand slipping under the blanket to adjust himself and the back of his hand brushes across soft thigh.

He looks up at you, worried some line may have been crossed, but he finds you watching him. “I didn’t-” he starts to apologize, but is cut off by you pressing your lips to his.

“All you had to do was ask.” you whisper against his lips, and he gives you a nod before he returns the kiss.

“Finally.” This time, there’s no denying it’s a growl as Sam throws the comforter back. “I can fuck while I drink again.” he’s grinning, ear to ear as he positions himself between your legs, his fingers still working in and out, thumb moving over your clit.

“Please, Sam.” Dean watches your face as you beg for it, the build up he’d seen on your face in the back of his car that almost caused him to run a few red lights because he’d been too focused on it. Lips parted, heavy breathing and eyes pleading for release, and just like in the car, it makes his cock ache.

Sam’s fingers pull free and he’s quick to line up and slide home, both of you breathing out a sigh of relief at the feel. Buried to the hilt, Sam doesn’t pull back, doesn’t rock his hips, not yet. First, he leans down, lips pressed hard and hungry to yours, his tongue pushing past your lips to join yours. And once he’s tasted every inch of your mouth, his lips start their trek down and your head falls back deeper into the pillow with a sigh. His lips open along your throat, his tongue darting out for a taste of your skin with every open mouth kiss that he leaves, and finally, finally he starts to gently rock his hips into you.

“Sam, please..” He’s killing you and he knows it. You can feel the smile against your skin.

Dean continues to just watch as his brother latches back onto the breast he’d been sucking on moments ago, and he finds his eyes trailing down to where you two meet, watching the hips rock into you, pulling out just a bit more with every push forward. He finds himself once again wondering how warm you’d feel around him. Would you tighten your muscles around him when he’s getting close? How much does your pussy quake and squeeze when you finally come? His mouth starts to water as he starts wondering how good you must taste, pussy so wet he can hear it and fuck, does he want to taste it.

He’s about to reach down and adjust himself again when he feels a hand snaking into his boxer briefs. His eyes come up to meet yours, and you’re watching him, mouth open and panting in time with Sam’s thrusts while your hand tightens around him and you start stroking. His own mouth falls open, breaths panting out against your face and he can’t help but lean down for another kiss. He moans into it when he feels your thumb swipe over his slit to collect a drop of precome.

When the kiss breaks, Dean licks his lips in some desperate attempt to taste you there again, and you speak. “Take it all off, Dean.” Your eyes open again, and are met with surprise on his face. “I want to taste you.”

It’s a scramble of Dean trying  to throw it all off as quick as he can, especially when he spots you putting your thumb between your lips to get that first taste of him. You smile around the pad of your thumb as he kneels near your head, hand moving in long sure strokes over his hard cock.

You open your mouth for him, and he gives a slight nod as he gently guides himself forward. Your lips wrap around his silky smooth head and that alone practically knocks the wind out of him, it leaves him in a rush past lips that have fallen open. Then he feels you shift, lifting yourself just enough to get more of him in your mouth, and what you can’t fit gets wrapped up nicely by your hand again. Your head starts to bob on him, your hand twisting around what you can’t get in, and his head falls back, eyes shut with a soft “Son of a bitch” falling from his lips that makes Sam chuckle.

“Told you he wanted in.” Sam boasted, as your nipple fell from his mouth.

“Don’t ruin the moment, Sammy.” Dean threatened, eyes still closed as he relished the feel of your warm mouth around him. Sam grinned and gave a hard thrust that had you moaning around Dean. “Shit..”  

He looked down at you again, and you looked so content in the moment with your lips wrapped around him, your tongue following a vein as you moved along his length. It wasn't enough. Dean wasn't content to just let you enjoy him, he needed to make you feel good too, had this yearning to touch and taste as much of you as he could, to be the one to make you moan and writhe.

Your eyes flew open as he pinched the nipple he'd been drinking from earlier, and you looked up at him as best you could. He bit his bottom lip, the look encouraging him to do more, be an active participant in all this instead of just being. His hand cupped the breast, squeezing and kneading it, licking his lips when milk leaked forth. He didn't even mind when Sam leaned forward to lick it up, leaving just whatever had leaked onto his hand.

You moaned gently around him again, your free hand reaching for Sam's waist, nails scratching against his skin as you tried to pull him deeper, faster. You moved with him, your hips rising up to meet his, your own way of silently begging him to make you come, since you couldn’t speak with his brother moving in and out of your mouth.

Sam growled again, from deep in his chest and his pace picked up. Faster, harder, chasing release for both of you and Dean could see the determination, so he opted to help it along.

Dean licked his lips with a groan as his rough and calloused hand left your breast and moved down over soft curves and rolls. Relished in the feel of them under his fingers until he found your clit, swollen, wet and waiting to be touched. The first brush of his fingers over it, and your body jolted and a whine vibrated along the length of his cock. The more he paid your clit the attention it deserved, the more you shook under his brother, your whole body writhing and eyes rolling back until your eyes fluttered shut. Moans and whimpers were muffled by his cock while Sam cursed and growled, and all Dean could do was moan your name as his free hand tangled in your hair to help keep you moving.

“Oh, shit.” Sam cursed, head falling so his hair brushed across your breast. “Fuck, that’s tight..” Sam was getting sloppier and your nails were digging into any bit of skin you could hold onto. His waist, his bicep, his forearm, you were clawing into his skin in desperation and the red welts left behind were lingering.

One last whine around Dean, and your whole body got tense, your thighs pushing against Sam while your hips rolled with the orgasm that ripped through you.

“Fuck!” Sam yelled it, loud and with abandon as you came undone around him, and all he could do was enjoy the ride as you dragging him down with you.

Dean, not wanting to be left behind, shooed your hand away and started pumping hard and fast on the base of his cock, the head of it still sitting warm in your mouth. “Fuck me..” he cursed, head going back and giving it his all. He felt his balls pull up, and next thing he knew, he was spurting hot come onto your tongue with a content sigh.

Once everyone was down from their respective highs, they collapsed back onto the bed, panting and spent. “Who knew breastfeeding could be so fun..” Dean mused to himself and Sam started laughing. “Don’t you say it.” Dean shot a threatening look past you to his younger brother.

But Sam just grinned. “I told you so.”

“That’s it-” Dean leaned over you, punching Sam in the arm. With arms flailing from both of them, you couldn’t help but burst out laughing between them. “I told you not to ruin the damn moment. Bitch.”

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Tagging : Milk - @voltage-my2dlove @maximumkillshot  @cereal-hoarder@deans-baby-momma @deanmonandnegansbitch     

Sam - @evyiione   @rebelminxy @purplecatterpiller @stark-red19 @karouwinchester @flanneleddamsel @leahslovelylibrary

Dean - @evyiione @deanandsamsbitch @akshi8278 @haelyn   @anjiep24 @polina-93 @colagirl5 @adoptdontshoppets   

Supernatural - @roxyspearing  @internationalmusicteacher @super100012 @legend-o-zelda @sandlee44 @dancingalone21  @superfanficgsp987 @holyfuckloueh  @arses21434 @musiclovinchic93 @your-sparklywinnercollection @closetspngirl @ksgeekgirl @4llmywr1tings  @hobby27 @just-another-busyfangirl 

Tav, his Tav, had truly been in labor all morning. She’d woken up into it, in the early hours of the morning as the sun was just beginning to light up their little glade. Halsin wasn’t quite sure it was time, it could be practice, like the village mothers had said…but Tav had felt it. They were going to meet their baby that day, she’d told him. 

Sure enough, her deep, pressing contractions didn’t stop. Neither did she, continuing her work with the little ones through all of it. She’d made breakfast, baked a couple new loaves of bread, and even gotten into the garden to pick some of the lettuces that were ready. Contraction after contraction, and she didn’t slow down. 

Not that Halsin expected her to. A small smile flickered on his face as he helped his wife off with her dress, tossing it into the laundry pile while she turned to get a new one. 

(He could hardly stop staring at her, even now. Especially now. As soon as her belly’d begun to round out, she’d felt comfortable in less and less clothing. By the middle of her pregnancy, pants were out of the question, and these last few months…it was lucky she was even in anything, to be quite fair.)

Tav yanked on the soft, loose shift, then sighed deeply, folding her arms on top of the dresser and burying her face in her elbows. Only a moment later, and there he was, big warm hands cradling her hips, and she all but melted.

Before the contraction could peak, she pushed herself upright and turned around to face her love, snuggling against his comforting bulk. 

Looking down at her, Halsin smiled and rubbed his hands up and down her swollen sides and the curves of her hips, holding her close to him. For a moment, he searched for words to say, but instead decided to bury his nose into her hair and press his lips to the top of her head, opting to just hold her close.

Tav took a few big, deep, heaving breaths, then slowly relaxed, her arms sliding from being tucked by her chest to rest on his upper arms. Lifting her head, she smiled up at him, and he chuckled softly, bending his head to kiss her forehead. 

She closed her eyes as he spoke, soft and low against her skin, just soaking in the moment, just the two of them.

“You’re doing so well, my heart. So, so well. And you are going to continue to do well.”

The next couple of contractions began to be tougher, without the cushion of her waters. Tav would tell her husband later that she was glad for his size in this moment, as she discovered that grasping his shoulders and letting her knees relax and her body hang from his strong form was exactly what she needed as the pressure rolled through her.

Halsin remained strong, firm, and quiet as he guided his wife through her steadily increasing contractions, gripping her hips, pressing his hands into her lower back, and widening his stance so he could keep her back stretched and dangling. 

The quiet bit became important after a few deep, rougher contractions, as Tav began to find her voice, humming and groaning along with the rolling pressure. First it was muffled into his chest, then let free with a turn of her head. It was a release of energy as their baby moved lower and her body prepared.

–

Fortunately, it wasn’t long before the children came back to the house, midwife in tow. Sara easily kept up with the older children, the gems and flowers dangling from her antlers gently swaying as she quickly approached the house. Basket on one elbow and her skirt held up in one hand, Sara thanked the sweet orphans and urged them to go take care of their siblings before stepping into the house.

“Hello? Midwife calling!” Sara called out gently as she peered around, her ears swiveling. The only sounds were her hooves on the stone floor, and the children chattering in the back garden. She’d expected to come through the doorway and hear the sounds of labor, not the peaceful silence of an almost empty home.

However, as she moved through the kitchen, the reason became apparent, and she smiled to herself, the faun quickly making her way through and out the back door, which was standing ajar.

Knowing what kind of elves Halsin and Tav were, she should have expected nothing else, really.

She breezed through the back garden, pausing only a moment to tousle the hair of one of the older orphans, whispering a soft guidance that they could stay in the garden or the house if they needed to. The faun midwife then passed through the back gate and headed toward the small glade of trees.

She’d been able to hear Tav’s low, concentrated vocalizations when she’d been near the far wall of the garden, and as she approached the trees, her suspicions were confirmed, and she melted into a smile.

Tav and Halsin were just inside the small glade, blankets spread on the ground in a clearing underneath a particularly wide tree. As Sara approached, she and Halsin met eyes over Tav’s shoulder and Sara smiled warmly. Halsin gave her a slightly distracted smile back before turning his attention back to his love, who was working through the peak of a contraction.

Almost as soon as they made their way out here and got the blankets set up, she’d dropped to her hands and knees and begun to rock, each contraction seeming to take much more of her concentration and focus. She’d asked Halsin to hold and press into her hips, and he’d obliged, holding steady and kneading her muscles as she rocked and moaned through each increasing wave of pressure.

After a short while, she’d pulled off her shift, and he’d removed his shirt, both of them wordlessly feeling the connection to nature and their primal work.

It was this same rocking Tav was still doing when Sara arrived, shifting her weight from the heels of her hands and then back onto her knees. Her eyes closed, her forehead knitted, the elf groaned softly, but deeply as she rocked back, then inhaled and centered herself as she moved back forward.

Silently, Sara approached the blanket nest, then leaned on the tree and lowered herself down to kneel near the edge. With practiced motions, she opened her basket and pulled out a few supplies- a small bowl, mortar and pestle, an amber bottle with a cork stopper, and a couple gems, one of which she quickly fastened onto her antler.

When Tav finally relaxed, she immediately sat back on her heels, snuggling up against Halsin’s chest and opening her eyes to offer her midwife a smile. “Hello.”

“Hello sweetheart. Sounds like you’re doing some wonderful work.”

“I wouldn’t call it wonderful, but it’s definitely work!”

Sara chuckled, shaking her head and scooting herself a little closer. “Nonsense, this kind of work is always wonderful. Would you mind if I did a quick exam on you?”

“Of course. Halson, love, could you put my hair in a plait?” She turned and peeked over her shoulder, and Halsin quickly nodded, rubbing a hand up and down her upper arm.

As Sara scooted a little closer and Halsin took her hair into his hands, Tav closed her eyes, her hands coming to rest lightly in her lap. She heard the sound of Sara rubbing her hands together, then she was touching her, cool hands cradling her taut, heavy, and hot belly. 

Tav focused on her breath, letting her head lean back a little bit, and patiently waited as Sara pressed and prodded, sliding her practiced hands across her skin. Halsin was done with her plait quickly, and he tied it off with a leather cord before pressing his lips to the back of her neck. 

She couldn’t help but smile, a butterfly of excitement and love fluttering to life in her stomach. This was really happening.

“You’re moving along well. One moment, and then I’ll perform a very quick internal check,” came Sara’s voice, and Tav nodded, snuggling back against Halsin’s comforting bulk. Slowly, he wrapped one arm around her, palming her belly and nestling his forearm underneath her breasts, and Tav reached an arm up, tangling her fingers in his hair.

She only opened her eyes to peek at Sara as she heard some rustling, wanting to know what her midwife was doing. The faun ground some herbs quickly with her mortar and pestle, then poured most of them into a crystal bowl, whispered a quick spell, and flicked her fingers, setting the herbs alight and then blowing out the fire so they began to smoke, fragrant and calming. 

She then swirled each of her hands in the smoke, making a few signs in the air before setting the bowl down and scooping up some of the leftover herbs and holding them out to Tav in one cupped hand. “Chew a moment, then tuck under your tongue, please.”

Without hesitation, Tav did as she was asked, scooping up the herbs and chewing them. They were a bit bitter, but not unpleasantly so, and she quickly tucked the paste under her tongue as her midwife drew close and laid one hand on top of her belly. With one quick movement and a soft whisper, Sara carefully performed her internal exam, two fingers entering Tav and exiting just as quickly.

“Have you been feeling the urge to push, Tav?” Sara murmured, pulling a cloth from the pouch at her hip and drying her fingers as she gave the elf a knowing smile.

“Maybe…maybe a bit, the last couple of surges…” Tav murmured in response, shifting her hips and slowly letting go of Halsin to rest back onto her hands and knees position.

“Well, you and your baby are both more than ready. As soon as you would like, you may push.”

Looking up at her midwife, Tav slowly melted into a smile, then looked over her shoulder at her husband, who looked…a combination of nervous and excited and like he might faint. 

“Come here…” She whispered, and Halsin was immediately over her, his chest pressed to her back as their lips met in a soft, loving kiss. 

When they parted, Halsin pressed his forehead to hers, eyes closed, and whispered softly. “You’ve got this, Tav.”

“I know.” Tav whispered back, and the two of them chuckled softly as they pulled back into position. 

The next contraction was already needling at Tav’s hips, and as soon as it crashed into her and took hold…she bowed her head, scrunched her nose, and gave her first push, slowly leaning back into her heels, and into Halsin’s warm hands.

–

Hours later, the sun beginning to touch the top of the horizon and turn everything a soft crimson, Tav was still pushing. Working with her body, she’d shifted from hands and knees to a squat after a while of work, then Sara had suggested a standing squat with Halsin’s help, to encourage gravity’s assistance.

And as the sun continued to set, Tav pushed, settled in a standing half-squat in her love’s arms facing her midwife and the forest, belly hanging low between her thighs and fluid dripping down between her feet. Halsin held her easily, one hand pressed against her side for support, the other wound over her belly, under her breasts. 

As she pushed, contraction after contraction, he tried to keep his breathing steady so she had something to latch onto. Her hands grasped for purchase, coming to rest on her belly or on his forearm when she was resting, flailing and tangling in his hair or digging nails into his biceps or shoulders. He didn’t mind, not even in the slightest…what mattered to him was the strain his heart was going through.

Everything was alright, Sara seemed calm, and so did Tav, to be quite honest. She’d long past fallen into a kind of trance, listening intently to her body and her baby. 

Spying his worried glances, Sara had stood, drawing close and murmuring to him about how the baby was likely taking after him with his size, and Tav’s body was stretching to accommodate. That all was well and she would alert them the moment it wasn’t.

The words reassured him, as did her calmness, and Halsin, amid his deep breaths, attempted to refocus, pulling his own energy inward and directing it toward his love and their child.

A groan, a slow, pressing roll of her hips, and Tav let go of her push, panting and taking more of her weight back. Her hands landed on Halsin’s forearm, and he bowed his head and pressed kisses to her sweaty neck.

“Good, Tav. Wonderful. As you’re bearing down, I’m beginning to see the top of the baby’s head. Be mindful that you need that stretch, do not try to rush things.” The midwife’s voice was soft and almost lilting, and she drew a bit closer as she pulled a small bottle from her hip bag. 

Tav only hummed a soft noise in recognition, giving a small nod. Halsin nuzzled her hot skin and closed his eyes, glad to hear that things were truly progressing.

If he had any doubts, those were quickly erased during the next contraction.

Tav huffed a few quick breaths, then her knees relaxed and Halsin caught her, holding her weight as she sank into her squat. A deep, growly grunt rumbled in her chest, and Halsin watched over her shoulder as best he could, in awe of how much her belly tensed and moved.

As she pushed, Sara uncorked the bottle and poured a bit of oil in her palm, rubbing her hands together to warm them and spread the oil across her full hand, then she reached up and cupped between Tav’s legs, pressing the pads of her fingers against her opening vagina. 

“There, that’s it. Easy, easy. Nice and easy.”

Sara’s voice was almost a singsong, and the little crystals hanging in her antlers tinkled a little bit as she moved. 

Tav gasped a quick breath, then sank into another push, grunting sounds of effort rasping in her throat. She was opening, she could feel it. She felt so full, felt like she couldn’t open any further, but she knew she needed to. Sara’s hand against her burning opening and Halsin’s grip on her were all she needed, and all her mind could focus on.

Blurry and foggy with sensation, pressure and opening, Tav pushed, working with a contraction that didn’t seem to end. She was vaguely aware of Sara’s voice, coaching, and of Halsin shifting his grip on her, helping her sink into a slightly deeper squat. 

A gush of fluid, and a release of pressure that almost made her cry in relief, and all of a sudden there was a head between her thighs, cradled by both of Sara’s gentle hands. Tav’s eyes opened wide, and she craned her neck to look over her belly, reaching one hand down for her baby.

“There you are, hello!” Sara cooed, smoothing her fingers over the baby’s features and then guiding Tav to cup the top of the head. “Very, very nice work, Tav. They’re almost here.”

Touching the top of the little one’s head gave Tav a surge of strength, and she let her head fall back against Halsin’s chest, laughing in joy. Halsin, tears in his eyes, pressed soft kisses against her forehead and cheeks, stroking her side with his thumb.

It was quiet for a moment, only the sounds of the forest around them. Both Sara and Tav held the little one as they waited. It was like the world was holding its breath.

In the purplish haze of the dusk, Tav shifted. Leaning against Halsin, she closed her eyes, crinkled her nose, and gave a quick, grunty growl of a sound, helping her baby’s shoulder pop free into the world.

With one last push, the rest of the baby slid free, caught both by Sara and Tav at once. Watching over her shoulder as the little one was born, Halsin’s knees finally went weak, and he crumbled to the ground, pulling both of his loves into his lap and cradling them in his arms as Tav pulled the baby to her chest.

There at the base of the tree they collapsed into a heap, the baby wailing at the world that he’d been born, Tav happily sobbing, and Halsin just…staring.

–

It didn’t take long for all of the orphans to come around for a peek. When they got there, they found their Mama sitting in their Papa’s lap, a tiny little bundle on her chest, and the midwife cleaning things up. 

Halsin smiled at the curious little ones, and beckoned them closer with one hand. 

“Everyone is well, your mama did wonderfully. 

Midoriya blinked and froze. “…Did you just talk?” he asked the donkey. The donkey snorted, and then the voice came again… “No, you little fool. It was me. The one who pays you and gives you a home, remember?” WHAPP! Midoriya yelped and turned around as a light but firm swat bapped him upside the head. He timidly looked up and chuckled nervously at the figure who had smacked him. “Oh…uh…s-sorry, Mr. Aizawa.” Aizawa was a tall, thin man. His black hair was long and frequently unkempt, his unshaven face abnormally pale. Between these features and his seemingly permanently bloodshot eyes, Midoriya often worried the head farmer would flop over from lack of sleep. “What do you expect?” the farmer would say, when the youth addressed him about the issue. “I have to deal with you and that other rambunctious kid every day, ANYONE would lose sleep.” Aizawa frowned, and Midoriya flinched back; there was always such a dangerous, smoldering look in the older farmer’s eyes when he was irate…which was quite often. The irises could go from hollow and almost lifeless to sharp as daggers or hot as scorching flames in an instant. He wore dark clothes that were a little nicer than Midoriya’s, but not by much; with a grunt, he jabbed a thumb towards the cattle pen on the premises. “Kaminari’s having trouble with Milky White,” Aizawa grumbled. “One of you can finish ploughing later. Right now, put Mineta away and then go help him out.” Midoriya’s smile became less nervous, and he nodded respectfully. “Yes, sir,” he said, and set about undoing the plough and bringing Mineta with him by the halter to the barn where the donkey slept. Aizawa’s farm produced three things: a great abundance of poultry, with the chickens being sold to market at regular intervals, and of course the wheat in the fields…and milk. The milk all came from a single cow: an old heifer appropriately named Milky White. The name not only came from the cow’s appearance – with short, coarse hair of purest, snowy white all over her body, not a speckle of brown or black to be found beyond her huge, doe-like eyes – but for the product she put forth. Far and wide, across the Kingdom of Ua, the milk was considered to be the whitest dairy anybody had ever seen. It fetched quite a handsome price at market, far more than the chickens or the wheat ever did, and allowed the trio who dwelled on the farm to get by well enough. Midoriya had lived on the farm most of his life; he and Kaminari were orphans who had met on the streets and befriended each other. One day, many moons ago – the two were scarcely older than seven – Kaminari had suggested breaking into the home of the farmer who lived alone at the edge of the woods: Shota Aizawa. Midoriya had been hesitant, and to this day, Kaminari claimed it was his hesitant nature that got them caught (though Midoriya was fairly sure it was more likely how much noise Kaminari made while they were breaking in). Instead of turning them into the authorities – the Kingdom was not kind to thieves – Aizawa had decided the two would work on his farm for a while to “pay their debt.” That was how it had started…but after some time, the farm became like home, and the pair just…stayed there. Aizawa never seriously complained. The keyword being seriously. He ALWAYS complained. In the years he’d spent on the farm, Midoriya had developed a much closer relation to Milky White than Kaminari. After putting Mineta away, the young man with green hair trotted to the cattle pen; Milky White quietly grazed on a big trough full of barley. Beside her was a battered wooden stool, and seated on the stool was another young man – sharp-featured and with unusual, amber-colored eyes – his messy blonde hair swept away from his face. He was glaring and grinding his teeth with frustration, trying to squeeze milk out of the cow’s udders. “Rrrrgh…it’s no good!” he snapped as Midoriya stepped through the gate into the pen. He threw up his hands in defeat as he continued: “I can never get her to give me anything! It’s like she clams up!” Midoriya chuckled; his blonde friend pouted childishly. “You’re always either too rough or too gentle,” he said, patting Kaminari’s shoulder, then smiled helpfully. “Let me try: she should give me something.” Kaminari sighed and nodded in supplication, then got up from the milking stool. Midoriya sat down and gently stroked Milky White’s side. The cow let out a pleased moo, and he then began to try and milk the creature. However, after several tries, his smile faded. He was doing everything the way he always did, yet absolutely nothing was coming out. “Hey…what’s wrong, old girl?” he asked softly, patting the cow’s side. Milky White’s rather sleepy-looking eyes looked towards him and she blinked slowly. “Huh? You’re having trouble, too?” Kaminari asked, kneeling down; he’d been watching to try and figure out what he’d been doing wrong. The blonde frowned; Midoriya had NEVER failed to get milk before. “Yeah,” the green-haired boy nodded, and a worried expression crossed his face. “The past two weeks, she’s been giving less and less…maybe it’s something we’ve been feeding her?” “Impossible!” Kaminari insisted with a shake of his head. “We haven’t ever once changed her diet!” “Something wrong?” The two looked to see Aizawa leaning against the gate; he looked so tired, one swore the gate was all that was keeping him up. “She’s not milking,” Kaminari answered, gesturing to Milky White. Aizawa frowned, looking concerned and confused. He looked toward Midoriya…and tilted his head. The young man’s eyes were steadily moving between the udders and the bucket, an intense look of concentration on his face. His hand rubbed at his chin as he mumbled and muttered unintelligibly to himself. The head farmer and the blonde stable lad shared a look, then looked back to the other boy. “Oi,” Aizawa called out. “Izuku…kid, what do you think’s up?” Midoriya jumped and yelped, pulled out of thought again. He sighed with relief, and rubbed one arm. “Well…I-I was just thinking, Milky White is a pretty old cow,” he said slowly. A pause. “…And?” Kaminari pressed, while Aizawa narrowed his eyes. “Oh! Um…well…I hate to say it, but maybe she’s just gotten to an age, finally, where she…can’t give milk anymore,” he shrugged. “It would explain why it’s been harder to manage her and why we’ve been getting less and less.” Milky White let out another moo, looking offended at the implications she was so old. Midoriya smiled and patted her side reassuringly. “I think you may be right,” Aizawa nodded, and sighed wearily. “Well…in that case, there’s only one thing to do.” “Um…make apple strudel?” Both Midoriya and Aizawa stared a Kaminari, who was smiling a dopey, chipper smile. “…No,” Aizawa answered slowly, then paused before elaborating simply: “We have to sell the cow.” “Sell her?!” gasped Midoriya, while Milky White’s own eyes widened in surprise, and she let out another moo that sounded quite alarmed. “Do we…d-do we really HAVE to?” “Yes,” Aizawa responded bluntly. “I don’t have the money to keep a cow on the farm that doesn’t put anything out. At least if we sell her, we’ll be able to make some money off her one last time; hopefully enough to buy another cow.” “But their milk won’t be nearly as good as hers!” protested Midoriya. “Probably not, but if she’s not giving ANY milk, that doesn’t make much difference, does it?” Izuku felt that couldn’t easily be denied, and bit his lip. “Don’t we have any other options?” Kaminari asked, noting the conflict on his friend’s face. Aizawa raised an eyebrow. “Well, you could slaughter her yourselves, yeah.” The boys looked VERY ill, and Milky White was visibly shaking. “Yeeeeaaaah…I-I’mma pass on that,” shuddered Kaminari. “Then it’s settled,” Aizawa sniffed. “At least if she’s sold, she might be able to be a pet instead of someone’s dinner,” murmured Midoriya, rather sadly. Aizawa decided it wasn’t worth telling the rather forlorn-looking boy how unlikely that was. “Who’ll be in charge of giving her away?” Kaminari asked, while Midoriya petted the cow’s side gently. “I have some work I still need to do of my own,” Aizawa said, and pointed to Izuku. “Midoriya, you’ll take Milky White to market.” “M-Me?!” squeaked out Izuku, eyes wide. “Hey! Why not me?!” huffed Kaminari. “I haven’t been to market in ages!” “There’s a reason for that,” droned Aizawa, giving the blonde a withering stare. “The last time I sent you into town, I asked you to buy a dozen apples. You came back with two dozen pears.” “Hey, in my defense, they do taste sort of similar, AND you got more than-” “And the time before that,” Aizawa pressed on, “I sent you into town to buy some meat, and you came back with cheese! MOLDY cheese!” “I…well, um…uh…” “And the time before THAT,” Aizawa nearly growled, “I sent you to buy some milk…and you came back covered in lipstick marks, babbling about some cute blonde who traded your money for PERFUME.” Silence. Kaminari flushed, lowered his head, and kicked at the ground. “…She c-called me handsome…” Midoriya closed his eyes and shook his head, while Aizawa sighed and slapped a hand over his face. He mumbled something about being cursed into his palm, then looked back to Midoriya. “This will be your first time in the market, at least for my sake,” he said, somewhat warningly. “Please, DON’T make the same mistakes Kaminari has made.” “I won’t,” Midoriya promised, and stood up from the stool. “How soon do I leave?” “At once. Get the halter and I’ll tell you how much to ask for her, and give you further instructions…”

------------------------------------------------

“No less than five pounds, no less than five pounds…”

Izuku Midoriya – a red cap perched upon his head – muttered the mantra to himself over and over again under his breath, as he led Milky White along a crooked, broken road. The route to market passed through the forest that surrounded the farm. It had been a very long time since Midoriya had set foot on the road, and he idly wondered if anyone in town would recognize him in the least as one of the two waifs that had rambunctiously lived about the streets. Milky White let out a sad moo; Midoriya smiled kindly and paused to pat the bovine’s snout. “I know, old girl, but don’t worry,” he soothed. “I’ll make sure you get a good home, if I can. I promise.” He thought the cow smiled faintly, but he wasn’t sure. The boy continued on his path, carefully looking from left to right; he road he was taking had curves, but no forks or other paths. It was a more or less straight shot to the marketplace from here. He still had a long ways to go, however, and the forest seemed to grow denser around him, the branches of the trees twining together as their tops swayed slightly with the breeze. He had often thought the woods could be frightening, but in truth, the forest was very beautiful; the green leaves seemed to sparkle in the sunlight that shimmered between them, and he could hear birds chirping overhead. As Midoriya walked, he soon came to a patch of forest thinner than the rest; through a gap in the trees, he looked up and saw the sky. Two huge, white, puffy clouds painted the blissful blue backdrop. A sweet, vacant, daydreaming smile came over the wandering urchin’s face. In his mind’s eye, one cloud looked like a knight preparing to duel a frightful monster, represented by the other cloud. He was so lost in his daydreams, that he failed to hear Milky White’s warning bellow. And a moment later… WHUMP! “Oof!” “Ach!” Izuku thudded into something – or, rather, someone – and stumbled back clumsily before landing on his bunce with a grunt. He heard the other person fall in the same manner. “Ow,” Midoriya mumbled, massaging his sore backside for a moment before climbing up onto his feet and moving towards the other person, apologizing hastily. “I-I’m so sorry!” Izuku pleaded, extending a helping hand. “I should have watched where I was going, I just-” “It’s okay, it’s okay, stop apologizing,” the other fellow said, and stood up brushing himself off. Midoriya stepped back, withdrawing his arm and looking over the man: he was tall and exceedingly lank, with a bony face and deeply-sunken blue eyes that gave him an overall almost skeletal appearance. A huge head of wavy blonde hair adorned his scalp, and he was dressed in what appeared to be a nobleman’s coat: gold in color, with black pinstripes. Midoriya gulped nervously, eyes widening as he took in the strange man’s appearance, nearly quivering. The Mysterious Man was clearly of noble blood; would the gentleman be angry with him? He really didn’t need any trouble, he just wanted to get to the market soon… “I’m…I d-didn’t mean to bump into you, sir,” he peeped timidly, and the man – who was dusting off his coat – raised an eyebrow in his direction. “If, um…if there’s anything I can do t-to make it up to you, uh…” “Nonsense,” the Mysterious Man smiled benevolently, and gave a wink and a wide, toothy smile. “Good morning to you, Young Midoriya!” Izuku froze, mouth clapping shut. He blinked. “…Good morning to you. Uh…h-how come you know my name?” “Where are you heading this morning?” the Man asked, politely, not at all answering the question. Midoriya frowned and took a slightly suspicious step back. “I’m going to market,” he responded, lifting the part of the halter he held in emphasis. “My master’s cow here won’t milk anymore, so we’re hoping to sell her. As a pet,” he clarified, in the firmest voice he could. “Hmmm,” smirked the Mysterious Man, lifting a hand to his chin and cocking his head to one side. “I see…” A pause. “Who are you, sir?” Midoriya thought to ask. “Call me Yagi,” the Man said, simply, then smiled a bit wider. “How much are you demanding for this cow, Young Midoriya?” “No less than five pounds,” recited Izuku. Yagi frowned slightly. “Why such a sum?” “Well…um…m-my Master told me to ask for it,” Midoriya answered, honestly, and with a hint of embarrassment. “Ahhh,” nodded Yagi, then smiled anew. “And what would you say if I offered you something worth more than money?” Midoriya blinked, and looked towards Milky White, who rolled her great brown eyes up at him skeptically. He then gave Yagi an equally dubious but also keenly interested sort of look. “Such as?” Yagi smirked, and bent down, placing his hands on his knees as he was now eye-to-eye with Izuku. “Tell me, Young Midoriya…if you can…how many beans make five?” “Two in each hand, and one in your mouth!” Midoriya chirruped back, sharp as a needle, remembering the old chestnut from when he was a little boy. “Right you are!” Yagi chuckled, and tapped Midoriya on the nose. He chuckled louder as the younger man let out a childish squeak and covered his “booped” nose protectively. “And here they are now: the very beans themselves.” So saying, and with a flourish of one hand, the Mysterious Man – seemingly out of nowhere – pulled out a handful of five large, strange-looking beans: each was the size of a cashew, and each was brightly colored in different shades – red, yellow, blue, green, and pink – so that they seemed to form a little rainbow patch in the tall, thin man’s palm. “And as you are so sharp, good Midoriya,” Yagi went on, “I don’t mind offering a trade with you: how about you swap your cow…for these extraordinary, extravagant, extra-large, extra-extra-extra beans?” Midoriya looked at the colorful beans, then Yagi’s face…and frowned, scrunching his brow and looking a little confused and more than a little doubtful. “No offense, sir, but…um…why would I trade my cow for some beans?” he said, sensibly. “I mean…especially when I’ve been asked to get money. It just…doesn’t seem very wise.” “Normally, I would agree with you,” Yagi nodded, his voice equally reasonable, as he then lifted the beans a bit higher, their colors almost seeming to glisten in the sunlight that peered through the treetops. “But you haven’t got the slightest idea of what sort of beans these are. These aren’t ordinary beans: they’re MAGIC beans.” Midoriya raised an eyebrow. “Magic?” “Yes,” Yagi said. “If you plant these beans tonight – under the light of the blue moon – by morning they’ll grow into a stalk tall enough to reach the top of the blue sky itself! And not an inch less.” Midoriya’s eyes widened; now he had some interest. “Really?” “Yes, really!” Yagi grinned widely, blue eyes wide and bright. “I would stake my reputation on it!” Midoriya bit his lip…then fiddled with the halter. Milky White moved her head slowly, swinging it to watch the conversation with her own sense of dopey interest. “Again, no offense, but…I don’t know you. Sir,” Midoriya reminded the Mysterious Man. “So…what kind of reputation can I trust a stranger to have?” Yagi opened his mouth to answer…then blinked…and paused, tilting his head and looking up to the sky. “Huh,” he muttered, scratching his cheek with a long, skinny finger. “That’s reasonable enough, Young Midoriya.” Midoriya nodded and gave the halter a tug, attempting to pass. “Right. Well, thank you for your offer, sir,” he said, politely, “But I just can’t-” “Hold on, hold on!” Yagi exclaimed, with such power in his voice it made Midoriya yelp and jump back in surprise. “Let me make you a deal: the time now is…” He paused, and – with his free hand, for the other still clutched the odd beans – reached into the pocket of his nobleman’s vest, pulling out a pocket watch – both as golden as his coat – and checked it before tucking it away again. “…The time now is six o’ clock,” he reported, and then went on: “If by tomorrow, at this hour, you discover anything has happened differently, in any way at all from what I promised…then you can meet me at this exact same spot, and I’ll give you the five pounds you asked for. Now there’s something we can agree on, yeah?” Izuku still looked unconvinced. Yagi’s eyes roamed up and down the young man’s form…and he sighed before kneeling down before him. “Young Midoriya,” he whispered softly, in a voice so low and so heartfelt it caught the green-haired youth off guard. “I know we’ve only just met…and I know you haven’t got much reason at all to trust me. But I have seen the way you looked at those clouds. I know of the daydreams people say you have. Tell me something: what do you wish for, more than anything in the world?” The young man paused before answering, figuring it would do no harm: “I want to be a hero. I want…I want to help people. I want to help my village, my friends, and I…I want to BE somebody. Not just a farmer’s helper, but…someone important.” “For money or fame?” “No. Not really. I mean…those are nice, but…just knowing I did something with my life, and knowing that I helped so many other people…that’s what I really want. I want to be remembered. And I…I want to do something amazing. Something that will be worth any risk if it helps others.” Yagi’s smile widened; there was a twinkle in the thin man’s eye. “I know those dreams very well,” he said sagely, and opened his hand once more, offering the beans to the youngster again as he went on: “Take these and plant them, just as I told you. I can’t promise you what will come of them will be easy for you. I can’t promise you it will be safe. I can’t even promise you that you won’t regret it. But if you do as I say…if you take this chance I’m giving you…maybe you can be a hero.” A pause. Midoriya took a deep breath. “…Do you promise to take care of Milky White?” “I do.” “And if anything does go wrong, you do promise to pay me the five pounds?” “I’ll make it ten, if you want.” Midoriya smiled. “Then I guess there’s nothing to lose, is there?” “I wouldn’t say that,” chuckled Yagi, “But you won’t be any worse off than you are now, will you?” “That’s true,” Midoriya nodded slowly in consideration…then smiled widely, eyes lighting up. “Alright! Deal!” The bargain was executed quickly, as Yagi pulled a small leather bag out of his coat pocket. He poured the beans inside, and traded the little bag for Milky White’s halter. “Farewell, Young Midoriya,” Yagi smiled, giving a mock salute to the young man. “And a pleasure doing business with you!” “Same to you,” Midoriya smiled, adjusting his scarlet cap, and turned away, opening the bag to inspect the beans. He took a few steps away, and made sure all five were inside. Nodding to himself, he turned around again, looking up, preparing to wave goodbye… …Only to find, to his amazement, that both Yagi and Milky White had seemingly vanished into thin air. Midoriya stared at the spot where they had stood…then looked at the bag of Magic Beans…then his smile returned, and with a whoop a laugh, he pocketed the beans and ran pell-mell back down the woodland path towards the farm. He couldn’t wait to see Mr. Aizawa’s reaction!

------------------------------------------------

“YOU. LITTLE. FOOL.” With a snarl, five brightly colored, cashew-sized beans sailed out an open window in the farmhouse. Midoriya gasped and tried to grab them before they hit the ground…but it was too late. They scattered into the dirt, and must have been covered quickly, because he couldn’t see where they landed. He then whimpered and cowered as a very, VERY angry Shota Aizawa nudged him back, barring his way and glaring down at him. “Beans,” he sneered. “I’m disappointed in you, Izuku. I trusted you to make good choices. And of all things you come back with…you come back with five painted beans?” “I…b-but…but Mr. Aizawa, he said they were magic!” Aizawa’s glare didn’t shift. He just glowered, unblinkingly. Midoriya sighed and hung his head; it did sound very, very gullible, now that he thought about it. “…He…he also said…w-we could…have ten pounds…i-if it didn’t work…?” he added, hopefully, not daring to look up as he said so. “You BELIEVED him?” Midoriya remained silent. He sniffled once, and said nothing. Aizawa’s gaze softened slightly, and he pinched his brow, closing his eyes as he pointed off in another direction with one hand. “Bed,” he ordered. “Now. We’ll talk about this more in the morning. Don’t come out of your room till I tell you to. Understand?” Silence. “UNDERSTAND?!” “Y-Yes…yes, Mr. Aizawa…I’m…I-I’m sorry…” With a final sniffle, not daring to lift his head, Midoriya darted upstairs and out of the room. Aizawa sighed as he watched the young man go…then looked out the window. The sun was setting and the night was riding in fast. He shook his head despondently, grumbling to himself as he headed towards his own room.

------------------------------------------------ He needed sleep desperately…and probably a drink, as well…

Kaminari squirmed a bit uncomfortably as he sat in his bed, which lay across from Midoriya’s in the small room they occupied each night. Midoriya was lying on his side, facing the other wall, turned away from Kaminari. He hadn’t moved a muscle for an hour or two. “Hey,” Kaminari whispered. “I, uh…I just wanted to say…it’s really not as bad as you think.” Midoriya gave no response. “I mean…you know all the dumb stuff I’ve done, yeah?” Kaminari chuckled, trying to shrug and giving an uneasy smile. “And…well…Magic Beans DO sound a lot cooler than, like…I dunno…moldy cheese, r-right?” Still no response. “…Midoriya? Are you asleep already?” No response. Kaminari sighed; he’d tried. Shaking his head sadly, he lay down in bed, and turned away to face his wall. “G’night,” he mumbled out, softly. In his own bed, Midoriya said nothing. His eyes spilled tears onto his pillow as he lay totally and completely still, curled up defensively in his bed, as if trying to coil into a ball. He hugged himself as he lay on his side, and sniffled softly before wiping his eyes on one arm. A flicker of light fell over his face, and he looked up to see the blue moon shining down. With a despairing sort of look, he lay down on his belly, face in his pillow…and after several minutes, cried himself quietly to sleep.

Neither he, nor Kaminari, nor Aizawa downstairs never noticed the way the ground not so far beyond the window shifted as the moonlight passed over it…they certainly never noticed the tiny green sprout that began to wind out of the ground as they slumbered…nor how it burst with leaves and pods as it continued to grow…

------------------------------------------------

Izuku Midoriya opened his eyes to darkness. He gazed about, trying to figure out where he was…he opened his mouth to call for his master and his friend, but no sound came out in the dark, hollow void. A disturbing, hissing noise echoed out from somewhere behind him. He turned around fast…and turned pale as a sheet as he beheld a hideous, indescribable beast: as big as a house, its whole body a mass of writhing green tentacles, like some of the great sea monsters he’d seen in storybooks! He wished for a weapon…and suddenly, he found his fingers grasping the hilt of a silver sword. He looked to the sword, then the hideous creature…then glared, and took his best battle stance, holding the sword ready, challenging the beast. The tentacles swept towards him. He jumped out of the way, hacking and slashing with the blade, chopping them into pieces…but each time he struck, two more tentacles came flying at him.! He ducked and dodged as quick as he could, whirling his blade about his head as fast as he could manage… …Then, suddenly, a tentacle grabbed his arm, and with a wrenching twist, tore the sword away! He gasped, as a tentacle then grabbed his other arm, and another green tendril lashed about his waist! Izuku watched in horror, as a fourth tentacle transformed; the end of it malformed like clay, turning into a huge, green, fang-filled maw. The hideous monster licked its lips…and with a roar, the maw came careening towards him, ready to swallow him whole! “AAAAGH!” Midoriya jolted, pushing himself upright in bed…then, he settled, and panted, flopping down again with a groan as he realized he’d been having a nightmare… …One can thus imagine his reaction when he rolled onto his back in bed…to find what looked like a huge horde of green, curling tendrils pushing through the bedroom window. “YIPE!” With a shrill, almost comical yelp, Midoriya flailed and fell out of bed with a thud. He froze, as he heard Kaminari – still asleep in his own bed – groan and grumble something about “pretty girls” in his slumber. For several moments, Midoriya didn’t move…then, he scrubbed at his eyes, and took a better look at the” tendrils” poking through the window. He had quite forgotten, in his alarm, what had happened the day before. He found that the whole room had a vague, greenish hue cast over it, and the source was soon clear. His eyes widened, amazed, and he was suddenly filled with a sense of action. In a flash, he threw on his green tunic, red shoes, vest, and cap, and fastened his white rope belt before creeping downstairs quickly but quietly, not wishing to wake Aizawa or Kaminari. He stepped out of his house, and craned his neck upwards, barely able to believe his own eyes: there, in all of its splendor, rooted not more than a couple yards away from the house…was a GIGANTIC beanstalk, such as there has never been in the history of any world! It was thicker than any tree in the forest; it stretched high, up and up and up – he couldn’t see the end of it! At length, Midoriya realized that it was stretching far, far out of sight, piercing the blue sky itself! “Just as Yagi said,” he breathed, and began to quiver, a smile slowly forming on his face as his eyes danced with delight. He hadn’t been tricked! He hadn’t been fooled! The beans WERE magic! Almost without thinking, Midoriya darted forward, and grabbed hold of the two lowest branches of the spiralling beanstalk. He paused for a moment…took a deep breath…and then began to climb. He climbed till he could see through his window into Kaminari’s room…he climbed till he could jump down and hop onto the roof, if he wished…he climbed till he could look down and see the whole farm in all its vastness. He climbed, and climbed, and climbed; he had no thought in his head to keep climbing. His arms and legs seemed to be working without his will guiding him, hauling him up, up, up! He thought he would have run out of breath, one way or another, yet somehow he STILL climbed! He could see the tops of the trees, he could see birds – who looked VERY befuddled – flit past. He could see the crest of the Sun as it rose in the East, just beyond the pearly castle of Ua. Higher and higher Midoriya went, never once considering how in the world he was going to get down again safely. His heart was pounding with unparalleled excitement; even just climbing the beanstalk was an adventure in itself! Each time he looked down, he felt no fear, but an overwhelming sense of freedom and awe; seeing how small and yet how vast the world was, all at the same time, the more height he gained. Up, up, up… …Till, finally…as he reached…his fingers brushed what felt like fine, powdery sand. It was as if he were at the entrance of a well, a sea of white just beyond his reach. He reached further…and realized the beanstalk had come to an end. For the briefest of moments, panic entered his heart, as he now realized the harrowing knowledge he would have to climb back down, and that would be much harder than going up…but then, he remembered the sand, and – taking a risk – he heaved himself up daringly and held his breath… …As he popped through the whole in the sky…and found himself standing on solid ground. He had reached the point where the sky itself came to an end. A world above the clouds. Midoriya stared around in awe, stumbling forward, too thunderstruck to speak as his jaw dropped and he took in the sights around him. Ahead of him stretched a long, wide road of blue, powdery earth. ENORMOUS trees – taller than any he had ever seen – stood before him: their trunks were silver, and their leaves were a pale, sugary white. The sky itself was a pale, unusual violet hue, with streaks of orange passing through it – the colors of sunset, but without the steady shift. That was just the color, all the time, he wagered. The air was uncannily still; a few times on the climb up, he’d had to pause to hold onto his cap, to keep his hat from being blown miles out of his grasp. Now, though…there was no wind at all. “Whoa,” he murmured to himself, unable to say anything else as he began to walk down the road, staring and staring at the peculiar new plane he had discovered. His heartbeat only continued to quicken; this was the most spectacular thing he’d ever experienced. GRRRLLLB… “Ah-ah!” Izuku winced sharply, scrunching his eyes shut as he paused in his walk, and clutched his stomach…then sighed as he rubbed it gently. “Right…didn’t eat breakfast this morning…or supper last night, for that matter,” he muttered, a little sourly. His stomach whined again, and he bit his lip; it actually felt quite painful, the hunger pangs scraping against his gut lining. He looked around, his mind leaving the sense of wild adventure in favor of the more practical desire for food. Another world or not, he figured there had to be SOMETHING to eat around here! Sure enough, his green eyes soon spotted something: a white bush, covered in dark purple berries, not unlike grapes. Curious, Midoriya approached the bush; the bush alone was TREMENDOUS, about the size of the toolshed back on the farm. Carefully. He reached out and plucked one of the grape-like fruits off the branches; they were the size of footballs. Midoriya sniffed at the berry; it smelled sweet, and he smiled before taking a bite…only to gag and sputter, spitting out chunks of the stuff as he dropped the berry and rapidly scrubbed at his tongue. “Ugh!” he choked. “It…it smells nice, but…it TASTES like frog skins! O-Or rotten fish!” His stomach whined, pleading for something. He sighed again, and rubbed it, mouth starting to water with hunger as he lurched onward, desperately looking around for something to eat as he left the foul-tasting berry bush behind. Whatever THOSE berries were, he could survive without them…they were probably toxic, anyway, given that flavor! On Midoriya traveled, and louder his stomach growled. Everything around him was larger than he was used to; he’d ducked when a huge shadow, which he thought was an eagle, flew past his head…and nearly thought he’d faint when he realized it was a black-and-blue-colored butterfly, drinking from a pink flower the size of a small tree. He shook his head and continued forward, hoping he might find some breakfast soon… …And then…he froze. What looked like a gray wooden bridge was stretched across a black river, which sparkled like a starry night sky. And on the other side of the bridge was a giant house; it was not as poor as the old farmhouse, nor as splendid as a nobleman’s manor…somewhere in the middle, Midoriya guessed. Despite this middling state of obvious expense, the place was bigger than any house he’d seen…except maybe one… “It’s as big as a Castle,” he breathed…and with a light shake of his head, he hustled forward towards the building, almost desperately. A place that big was bound to be home to some kind of adventure…and if he was lucky, he thought, adjusting his white belt, maybe it was home to some food, as well. Midoriya dashed across the bridge, till he came to the door of the big house. There was no hope of reaching the doorknob, and some sixth sense told Midoriya that knocking would not only be likely fruitless, but potentially dangerous: whoever lived here was clearly no ordinary person. His mind started to race, wondering what COULD live in this house above the sky: a demon? A dragon? A clown? Hey, clowns were creepy. Whatever the case, Izuku’s hunger had quite a grip on him, as did his curiosity; he wasn’t turning back now. He soon noticed there was a gap under the door – he guessed big enough for a mouse to wriggle under. It was telling of how small he was compared to everything else that Izuku was able to wiggle through this gap, and soon found himself standing inside the enormous house. The interior of the giant building matched the exterior: it was neither especially poor-looking, nor particularly grand. The overall style reminded Izuku of a hunting lodge: rugs that appeared to be made from animal skins covered the wooden floor, and weapons the size of boats were displayed. What looked like a cow’s skull was mounted in one spot…but the skull, as well as the skins, were far more monstrous in their dimensions than any animals of the same kind Midoriya had ever encountered. His attention was drawn away from his surroundings when a sumptuous smell caught his nose; his poor, empty belly growled, and he had to wipe some drool away from the corner of his mouth before creeping carefully in the direction of the smell. He truly did feel like a mouse right now; he had the distinct sensation of invading some larger, more physically superior creature’s territory. He had to be careful: he had no idea if the one(s) who lived here might be home. If he got caught, this adventure could be over FAR quicker than he liked. Thankfully, he didn’t get caught, as he scampered across the floor, and found his way to a warm, welcomingly-lit kitchen. He looked up, and his eyes lit up with joy; he almost squealed with glee! Eager as could be, he scurried up one of the table legs – he’d just climbed a beanstalk that reached to the sky, THIS was nothing – and hauled himself up onto the tabletop. A tremendous feast lay before him: a huge hambone, a roasted chicken, apple dumplings, a block of cheddar cheese, a half-rack of beef ribs, and a lamb stew with carrots and potatoes all sat upon the table. Not only were these six separate courses quite a substantial amount of food in general, but because everything around Izuku was at least twenty times bigger than normal, any ONE of these dishes would have been enough to feed him and his fellow farmers for a whole week. Midoriya grinned and clapped excitedly, as his mind immediately started turning: perhaps this was how he could become a hero! Some of this could bring food to the whole village, or at least be sold at market for more than enough money to help out around the farm! The question was how to carry it all back… GRRROOOUUURRRRG… He hissed and clutched his belly with both hands…and laughed weakly. “Right,” he murmured. “I, uh…I should probably NOT try thinking on an empty stomach, huh?” His tummy answered with a grumpy-sounding grumble. Midoriya patted it gently, and looked around the table…then – as if he couldn’t feel more rodent-like already – he made a beeline for the cheese. He knelt before the giant block, and licked his lips before sinking his hands into it, pulling away fistfuls of cheddar, peeling it away almost like clay. He inhaled the scent, relishing his well-earned feast, and then began to shovel the cheese into his mouth rapidly, gobbling it with almost animalistic abandon. He sighed after several mouthfuls, eyes fluttering closed as he chewed and then swallowed heavily. “GRULP!  Ahhhh…this is the best cheese I’ve ever had,” he crooned, and grinned wider than ever, stomach still roaring for more as he reached for another fistful… THUMP-A-THUMP-A-THUMP…! Midoriya froze. His ears pricked up as he heard a rhythmic, steady pounding; like some huge hammer slamming down again and again into the earth. He quickly recognized the sound to be footsteps. Very, VERY big footsteps. The sound grew louder, as whatever made the footstesps drew nearer. Midoriya turned fast and gasped as he saw a huge shadow come creeping across the wall, growing larger by the second! Thinking fast, he stuffed the last fistful of cheddar into his mouth…then, cheeks still bulging with the food, he hustled over to where he saw a salt and pepper shaker set, and ducked behind them quickly. No longer in the open, Midoriya peeked out from behind his hiding spot. His green eyes widened more than ever, terror striking his heart like a lightning bolt, as he saw the owner of the footsteps – the owner of the house – come swaggering into view. “A Giant!” The Giant stood at about fifty feet high, and the more Midoriya looked at the ogre, the more frightened he became. The titan was a handsome but imposing young man – roughly the same age as Izuku himself – with a head of spiky red hair that almost resembled flames. His eyes, too, were a shade of almost glowing scarlet, and as he yawned and stretched, Midoriya whimpered at the sight of a mouth full of razor-sharp, craggy-looking fangs. The young Giant wore a black vest lined with fluffy-looking red fur, and a pair of black leather trousers. Thick black boots were on his feet, and a long, flowing red sash was lashed about his middle The behemoth was bare-armed and bare-bodied, wearing no shirt beneath the vest; his abdomen was toned and athletic, rippling with powerful muscles, and his limbs were much the same. Between the colors, the fangs, and the overall size and demeanor of the Giant, Midoriya was trembling: he’d never met a giant, but he’d heard stories of them, and they were never very good. Giants were said to walk like men, but had appetites like devils; they would eat men, women, and children for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, often swallowing them whole. They would raid villages, devouring everyone and almost everything in sight, often never leaving till their bellies were swollen and heaving with all they had consumed. Then – despite their gargantuan masses – they would simply and suddenly disappear, with no evident explanation. To slay a giant was a feat few knights had succeeded in, and to meet a giant, for most people, was surely a death sentence. No one had ever figured out where they actually came from. It seemed Midoriya just had. Or, at least, he’d found where ONE of them came from. The scarlet-haired giant thankfully never noticed Midoriya; he smiled as he clapped his hands together and rubbed them eagerly, looking over the food on the table. Izuku ducked back behind the shaker to avoid being seen. “Well…now that that’s taken care of,” the Giant mumbled, seemingly talking to its own food, “I’ve just gotta get a drink, and we’ll be ready! Don’t worry, breakfast: I’ll introduce you to my belly soon enough!” The Giant cackled and patted his muscular, trim belly in emphasis, then began to hum a jaunty tune as he strode over to another part of the kitchen. Midoriya gaped as he looked around the table for a moment. Breakfast…ALL of this…was breakfast for ONE giant?! No wonder their appetites were legendary. At least nothing here was alive…except for Midoriya himself, he realized, with a shudder. A sound of running fluid caught the youth’s attention, and he peeked out from behind the shaker. The Giant had stomped over to large barrel or keg, with a faucet stuck into it. From the spigot poured a stream of what looked and smelled like cherry cider. (Absently, Midoriya wondered how many cherries on HIS world it would take to fill a barrel of cider that big.) The Giant was smiling a happy, cheery smile as he watched the cider fill the thick clay mug he was holding… …Then, as he turned the dial to stop the flow, his mug filled…he froze. Midoriya saw the Giant frown in confusion…then, the red-eyed monster lifted his head up and began to sniff the air. His nostrils flared, becoming huge black holes as his ears pricked up, clearly alert. Midoriya internally cursed, biting his lip and ducking back behind the salt shaker as he heard the Giant approach the table again. He heard the dull “clunk” of the huge mug being put down… “Hmmmm…something smells good around here,” the Giant mumbled. “And it’s not the food…” Midoriya fought the urge to whimper, hugging himself and curling in on himself. His heart pounded with terror as he heard the ogre begin to search room; he could hear him open the larder and the cupboards…then heard the rattling of dishes as he searched the table itself, sniffing at the air all the while. “Please don’t find me,” he whispered to himself in a breathless prayer. “Oh, please don’t find me…please, please don’t find me…” The hopes were vain ones, and he knew it; the Giant could smell him, and once it found him, he had no doubt he’d a VERY intimate experience with those razor sharp teeth. Mind racing, Midoriya looked towards the edge of the table; perhaps he could make a break for it, scramble down the table leg and find a better place to hide, then head back home via the beanstalk. But then he’d be leaving empty-handed…empty-handed was better than dead, though… Just as he was measuring his options, his blood ran cold as he felt the shakers he’d been hiding behind get lifted away…and an ominous, thorny-looking shadow fell over him. He gulped nervously…and, very slowly, looked upwards towards the source of the shadow. The blood red eyes of the Giant fell upon him. The ogre tilted its head…and then grinned, showing off all of those huge, jagged teeth. “Oh! Hi, little guy!” the Giant boomed. “What are you doing here?” NOPE, was all Midoriya could think, as he leapt to his feet and sprinted towards the edge of table. “Hey, now, don’t leave in such a rush!” Midoriya squealed as a huge hand swooped down and grabbed hold of him. He froze, not daring to squirm, as for a few moments, he was wrapped up in huge fingers that felt like pythons coiled around him, pressed against a palm that was both soft and somewhat leathery in texture. He could feel gravity change around him, sensed himself being lifted higher… …Then jolted as a second hand joined the fray, cupping him gently as the fingers parted slightly, revealing a red eye about as large as he was tall. “Peek-a-boo!” sang out a voice, followed by a snigger. The fingers then parted fully, and Midoriya found himself sitting the middle of the Giant’s hands, the huge titan smiling down at him widely. “Hey there!” the Giant sang out gaily. “I’m Kirishima! Eijiro Kirishima! What’s your name, little fella?”