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    It’s ironic, he thinks, how bright his father burns. How his presence commands an entire room. How much of his life is occupied by him. Endeavor’s fire burns through them all, in flames, in anger, in the hurt they bring. He’s the reason Touya died, the reason his mother is locked up in a hospital and the reason Natsuo and Fuyumi could never have a proper family.

    Shouto’s imagined his own undoing so many times. He often wonders, as Endeavor’s creation, if he’ll go up in flames, a spectacle for all to see, or if he’ll fizzle out in silence until there’s nothing left but ash. A masterpiece falling from grace. Sometimes he even wonders if one day he’ll burn himself up like Touya had. He imagines Endeavor’s reaction, as he once again conceals a dead Todoroki and continues to live without guilt for the children he destroyed.

    In the end, his unravelling begins with a single drop of blood.

     

    Alternatively: after moving into the dorms and finally learning how to relax, the years of abuse Shouto suffered at the hands of Endeavor finally start to catch up to him and he finds himself not knowing how to handle it.

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    02 Dec 2025

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    "How was I supposed to know saving a child was illegal?!"

    "You are also a child! And that isn't the point!"

    "HOW IS THAT NOT A POINT?"

    -

    Or, how Sanji ended up in a world where children are trained to become heroes.

    Fuck he doesn't think his moral compass is that great overall, it's a cruel world out there in all seas, but throwing kids to Doflamingo's possible offsprings just rubs him in the wrong way.

    He needed to find a way back to his Nakama.

    Preferably after he changes back from his 15-year-old form. He didn't need Mosshead laughing at him after practically dying.

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    26 Nov 2025

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    When the Thousand Sunny drifts into a stretch of cursed waters, a sea spirit marks Sanji and tears away the secret he’s carried since childhood.

    Or

    A de-aged Sanji story no one asked for ——

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    15 Nov 2025

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    Gojo sat there for a time, absently running his fingers over the bumps and ridges of the skull. This skull was female, according to its rounder eye sockets and less prominent brow bone. There was a faint, faint echo of cursed energy still clinging to it: residuals left over from a long-dead sorcerer or curse user. This person had been powerful. Some kind of cursed speech user, but the echo of positive cursed energy meant they could self-heal their throat even as it was torn by their own power. Nearly invulnerable, like he himself was.
    That hadn’t saved them. Hadn’t saved any of the people who’d been imprisoned here. Invulnerability couldn’t save people from themseves.

    (Gojo is stuck in the prison realm with nothing but his own thoughts and the skeletons of his predecessors for company. It goes about as well as you'd expect. Then he finds a way out, but the world he stumbles into isn't his own. Not even close.)

    This fic is being translated into Russian! Read the Russian translation here.

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    23 Oct 2025

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    “My Fire Grandpa  — Fire Grandfather.” Sokka says. “He's in the palace, with Lala and my Fire Dad and Fire Mom. I don't see them very often. But they're there.”

    “Could I meet them?” asks Kya.

    Sokka thinks about it.

    “I don't think you can,” he says. “I'm not Sokka there.”

    Or: Sokka and Zuko are born on the same day. For as long as they can remember, twice a month they live each other's lives. People notice.

    Alternatively, the story of Sokka and Zuko, as seen through the eyes of everyone but them.

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    12 Jul 2025