𝓟𝓱𝓲𝓵𝓸 𝓹𝓱𝓸𝓫𝓲𝓪 {𝕆𝕞𝕖𝕘𝕒 𝕧𝕖𝕣𝕤𝕖 𝕋𝕠𝕕𝕠𝕣𝕠𝕜𝕚 ℍ𝕒𝕣𝕖𝕞}

°

He always hated the doctor’s office. He’d hated it since the day Mother sent him there on “accident”. He still hated it now, at 6 years old, just 2 short years after his quirk manifested. Father said the visit was out of sheer necessity. When it was his turn to go into the doctor’s office, the doctor smiled unnaturally. It was an abnormal smile that tried to hide any questions and prejudices the person using it had. The nurses pressed on the back of his neck, inside his thighs, inner joints, and on his hip joints until his pores excreted. The room felt deathly sterile and ice cold when they left. When they came back, they had a very strange look on their faces, almost as if nervous for his well-being. She whispered into the doctor's ear before glancing at him nervously before she left. ‘Not good”. It was worse when the doctor ushered Father into another room, and when they both returned, Father was angry. Extremely angry. The air held a strange burnt scent in it that wasn’t there before. It put him on edge. The ride home was so unnervingly silent that he held his breath for the entirety of the ride, anxiously awaiting the explosion of anger that never came. Even when he entered the home, no anger came. That was until he entered Father’s office. Father was at his desk, arms folded and an unreadable expression on his face. The man said nothing, but he pointed towards the sole object on his desk, a piece of paper. He walked closer and read it, his heart thumping with eac word, letter, punctuation, and space as he registered the information. The last sentence on the paper made his heart stop.
Shoto Todoroki presents signs of being an Omega, and this is confirmed by chemical tests on his developing pheromones. Congratulations!
The moment his eyes crossed the last word, he knew. This was not a moment for congratulations. It was his only chance to run. He dropped the paper and scrambled out of the room before the offending piece of paper hit the ground. He skidded around the estate without looking back, fearful of the demon chasing him down. He squeezed himself into a small alcove in his closet, and he held his breath. He could feel it now. Everything that angered his father. The sticky, sour smell that surrounded him, the frenzy of emotions, the shakiness in the fiber of his being. He was prey. And the demonic predator had found him. The air thickened with the scent of his distress, but that did not deter the demon. Their game of hide and seek was over. The large, calloused, and meaty hands of his Father grabbed him by his hair so tightly he feared his scalp would be torn. The release of his hair was nice, but the dismount down the stairs felt like knives being driven into his body as he tumbled down. The heavy boots of his father hit harder than ever before. His quirk wasn’t working. He couldn’t defend himself. He was useless. He would grow up to be married off to an Alpha who only wanted him to breed, and once he served his purpose, he would be thrown away. It was too much. The air around him seemed to be as thick as honey with smells he didn’t understand. He couldn’t breathe. He was dying. Surely, he was dying. He didn’t want to die. He didn’t want to die. He didn’t want to die, he didn’t want to die, he didn’t want to -

Shouto shot awake in a cold sweat. It was just a memory. His pale, lithe hand ran through his dual colored hair. 4 years ago, he had his first ever heat, 3 years earlier than he was supposed to. The stress was too much. The only thing that kept him from death that day was his siblings. He looked out his frost covered window out into the dawn skyline. He’d left his window open last night. The slightly chilly breeze made his sheer drapes float in an almost ethereal manner. It was certainly earlier than usual, but he could faintly hear his second eldest brother arguing with Father already. Drained, he went into his on suite bathroom and sat in the bathtub until his skin was about to become pruney. It was Saturday, so there was no training, but judging from the intensity of the shouts coming from downstairs, his father would be in a sour mood. As he crept downstairs, he could hear the conversation putter out. In the family room, Touya, the eldest, sat with his lanky limbs covering the entirety of one couch. On the sofa across from him, Natsuo, the third eldest, sat with a deeply unsatisfied expression on his face. Father sat cata-corner to him, almost mirroring his expression. Fuyumi, the second eldest, entered the room holding a tray of tea. Shouto chose the safest route and moved one of Touya’s over-extended limbs out of the way in favor of sitting close to his eldest brother. The room was silent with palpable tension until there was a nearly silent knock at the door. No one moved to open it, but Shouto could see the emotion begin to stir in his father’s mind. Who on earth was visiting so early? When Father finally rose to open the door, he seemed stiff, like a marionette with no joints. His hand sat on the door handle for a full minute before the man began to twist the handle. Touya moved his limbs slightly as if preparing for a villain to enter the household. Natsuo shifted his body slightly towards Fuyumi. Finally, the door opened, and it was as if an angel was in their presence. The sun shone so brightly it was as if it was a spotlight on the mystery person. Their father seemed to slump, and he moved out of the door frame to let the person in. All the siblings tensed for a fight, but no fight came. Instead, a rather unusual woman entered the room.