suddenwhispers

[suddenwhispers]

HAVEN

Spotlight | Writer

twitter: @suddenwhispers | ao3: @suddenwhispers

[suddenwhispers]

We’re pleased to announce our contributors for the Help Wanted! zine! :)

✎ Artists

Aeolian | Chifle | Danthevampire | dokidokidraws | Dorixels | Dusketo | Eutt |   Feshnie | Fruitloop-chan | Goopy | Ishikyo | Jasmine By The Bay | Kaiju-hime | Kelly Latham | Kophi | LadVy | Litzy | Lorito | lyrroht | Mau | Moonkipp | Nuim | Oh Jessica Jessica | qrayn | senabbun | shibaink | SPINE | sunnyisrandom |   Yun | zen

✎ Merch Artists

Chii | Ikuzuu | Itmez | Matnae | Nath Vodopivic | sepharic | teenytraveler

✎ Writers

archekoeln | darling_dontworry | Haven | kiroiimye | ren | William Wonderland | yallmightjr Click here for high quality post.

Thank you so much for your continued support!

@uahigh-newsletter @bnhafandomcalendar @bnha-community-board@bnhabulletin @fandomzines @zine-scene @zineapps @zinefeed

[suddenwhispers]

|| FIRE EMBLEM: THREE HOUSES FLOWERS ZINE ||

This is an INTEREST CHECK for those who would like to see a Fire Emblem: Three Houses zine with the theme of ‘FLOWERS’ ! Please fill out the google form and reblog if you would like to see this project push through!

https://forms.gle/mnhDcCuKuEHij4et9

Follow us on Twitter for the latest updates ! https://twitter.com/fe3hflowers

–

@zineapps @zinefeed @zinesubmissions @zinefans @zine-scene @zineforall @fandomzines @fireemblemzines

[suddenwhispers]

Lysithea and the Sweet - A Fire Emblem: Three Houses Fanfiction

To say that Lysithea loved sweets was the understatement of the millenium and an insult to the Goddess herself to suggest otherwise. Lysithea gets through her studies only with the support of cake. An “In The Cards” anthology piece.

[suddenwhispers]

If Flayn had a post time skip outfit 🤧

[suddenwhispers]

WIP Edelgard from Fire Emblem Three Houses. Would anyone be interested in this design as a charm?

[suddenwhispers]

Watching Through Windows - A Fire Emblem: Three Houses Fanfic 

Read on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20564819

Edelgard was tired of watching the world through windows.

It seemed as if she would be destined to watch her life pass before her eyes through the reflections of its glass.

She rose from her bed and moved toward the giant window across the room she had been given by the King of Faerghus. The window was nothing short of grand, the way it stretched from floor to ceiling draped with deep velvet curtains that was sure to heat up the room during the summer months. Despite its grandiosity, it paled in comparison to her rich red embroidered ones from the Empire and a sort of homesickness rose from Edelgard’s stomach.

There, during that cool and fateful morning in the month of the Great Tree Moon, she sat and recalled with unease the events of the previous night.

Edelgard had been snatched from her bed by her uncle with little more than the clothes on her back and was told to run. From what, she did not know until she was already long gone from her castle of a home, long gone from her chambers, long gone from her father.

She had watched the scenery change as her uncle’s midnight carriage took her from her home in Enbarr up north towards the Kingdom. Trees had morphed from their tall, lanky stature to a more thick pine and the fields of home that once undulated across the horizon were now stomped flat. She had seen it all through these windows.

And now she sat at a giant window at the foot of the Kingdom, a foreign land nothing like her own. The awe of such differences existing even within the same continent had made her feel smaller than she already had been feeling, given the destiny she was meant to fulfil.

To become the Emperor of Adrestria - what did that even mean? Surely if it meant becoming a puppet figurehead moving at the whim of those beneath her just as they had done her father, it was a life she was not looking forward to having.

Edelgard propped her head against her hand on the table and continued to watch her life pass in changing hues of blues, pinks and purples, uncertain if the turmoil in the sky would be the last view she would be seeing for the rest of her life.

—

Dimitri was sure he would never tire of watching that window.

The third window on the first floor from the Eastern Gate had always been quite mysterious, but it was even more so since the carriage from the Empire arrived in the fog of morning.

From his own window on the second floor by the Southern Gate, he could see it all.

Dimitri drew back the curtain windows and gazed at the tulip fields laid across the castle grounds. Every morning he was blessed to be able to marvel at the maze of accompanying carnations in the spring, the crops of hydrangea in the summer, and the change of leaves in the fall and winter. His father had always told him to count his blessings, for many commoners in the Kingdom could not even spare the time to stop and smell the roses, both literally and figuratively.

But Dimitri was more curious about the window.

From the other side: a girl from the Empire graced with bewitching hazel hair and hazel eyes as she sat in the same spot day in and day out, watching the day pass, almost as if she were waiting for her life to pass her by.

By no means did she seem happy. Those hazel eyes were lifeless and unfocused, glazed over with boredom and lack of ambition.

Dimitri understood. Such was the life of many nobles, especially those forced against their will for the higher gain of their parents. More often than not had he seen brothers and sisters of his peers married off or promised to other noble families in exchange for land, money, or other dowry.

But as long as she was in the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus, she would be his responsibility, visitor and citizen alike. It was his sole duty as heir to the throne, as said by his father, to watch over the people of the Kingdom, regardless of race or background.

Dimitri stood up, straightened his robes, and headed for the door. He would make sure that his visitor would be attended to.

—

When they finally met, the sky above was a bright lavender. It was a meeting of colors, the way the meeting between people could be so full of magic and hope for the future.

Theirs had been a chance meeting under such a sky, fresh dew emanating from the softened soil. The sun had barely made it over the horizon and the chill of dawn had a pleasant bite to it.

Edelgard was caught red-handed, sitting against the open windowsill that had barred her from the Kingdom to breathe in the crispness of the Kingdom air. Perhaps she could not leave her quarters, but they could not control the air she breathed.

Had she known there would be other nobles awake and walking across the dew soaked field, she would have dressed the part to avoid disdainful eyes.

But little did she know of the prince that casually walked across the field in robes of his own. Little did she know that he was the prince of the Kingdom at all.

And little did he know of the beautiful stranger, the heir to the Empire, sitting on the third windowsill from the East Gate.

All they knew was that they were secretly eager to talk to one another.

“It is too lovely a morning to be sitting inside as you do,” Dimitri said mid-bow.

Edelgard returned the favor. “Indeed. But there is little I can do about this state, as I am only a visitor to the Kingdom with nowhere to go and nothing to do but listen to my uncle’s words.”

“Surely a noble like you has better things to do than to follow orders,” Dimitri said matter-of-factly before catching himself. “Excuse me, that was presumptuous of me.”

She shook her head. “No, you are correct in your assumption. Both of them. I am a noble with absolutely nothing to do and nowhere to go. But you would be wrong to assume I asked it this way.”

“Then come with me,” Dimitri eagerly offered.

Edelgard raised an eyebrow. “Whatever for?”

“To the Main Square. It is my duty to know the needs and wants and daily lives of the people. How will I know how to help them in the future otherwise?”

“How admirable, but I think not. You do know that I’m quarantined here under word of my uncle and most possibly the King, do you not?”

“Under word of my father?” Dimitri asked in a poor attempt to hide his shock. “I apologize for misjudging your situation. Please forgive me.”

Dimitri was sure she thought of him a fool now.

Edelgard placed her hand on her chin. “That means you’re the Prince. Well, prince or not, I will not be following you today. Perhaps I will forgive you and allow you to show me how you intend to serve your people if you were to talk to your father about letting me leave this boring old room.”

But Dimitri could tell that she certainly was no fool.

“Spoken like a crafty merchant. I hope we can get along.” He offered his hand in a gesture of introduction. “My name is Dimitri. You have my word that I will speak to my father in your stead.”

She graciously took his hand, swinging over the side of the windowsill and hopping onto the wet cobblestone. “You may call me Edelgard.”

“I thought you weren’t allowed to leave your quarters, Edelgard?”

She turned back, a mischievous smile creeping from the corner of her lips. “What the nobles don’t know can't hurt them.”

Dimitri could only watch as she strolled down the cobblestone paved path as if she owned it. He imagined having to spend the rest of the summer with a girl of such fiery temperament and felt his spirits raise for the challenge.

Edelgard left the window wide open.

[suddenwhispers]

Cutie Annette!

Btw thats felix asking about the library from Annette’s song from their supports (so cute >\\\<

[suddenwhispers]

Ahh thank you, you guys are so sweet like whattttt 🙈🐻💖

Introducing Issue 2 Writer, Haven!

I’m a 20-something year old medical student who loves to write for various anime and video game fandoms. I have also have a penchant for plushies and have adopted one too many sons over the years.

Reading one of Haven’s fics is like immersing yourself into the minds of the characters. Within short snapshots of Yuuri and Yuri’s lives, Haven lets us linger, telling so much story with so few words. Their skillful diction and syntax contribute to a beautiful, contemplative prose that we miss when the fic ends, like waking up from a dream.

Tumblr @suddenwhispers / Twitter / AO3

[suddenwhispers]

Issue 2: Time

It is our pleasure to announce that Shall We Read: Issue 2 is up in our itch.io store! Here’s a preview of the cover by the amazing @tosquinha! If you like what you see here, as well as in our previews tag and our contributors list, head on to our itch.io store to grab your copy!

If you’ve missed our previous issues, make sure to check the content by our incredible contributors in our Pilot Issue and Issue 1! Both are also available for purchase at our itch.io store!

[suddenwhispers]

The Memory (a yoilitmag preview) - suddenwhispers

I’m excited to finally be able to share a bit of what I’ve been working on for the past few months! It’s finally here - a preview of my piece for the YOILITMAG Issue 2!  It’s been a struggle but I hope it will live up to the expectations of others as there are SO MANY other great writers I get to be featured alongside with. Go to @yoilitmag for more info on how you can reserve a copy!

It is seldom that [Yuri] gets to dance as himself without the burden of a constricting costume or the judging eyes of Yakov measuring every curve and angle of his movements. Just for tonight, he is free. Just for tonight, he is free to be himself.

But until the night grows older, Yuri can only speculate from the balcony of his hotel room on the 18th floor. His rinkmate Mila, who is 16 and too fiesty for her own good, shoots him a look, a mischievous glint visible from the corner of his eye.

“C’mon, Yuri!” She tugs playfully at his arm but his body refuses to budge, instead slumping over the balcony railing. “No one will notice us with Victor prancing around, I promise!”

“You just want to dance at a club,” Yuri has to shake her off to free himself. She crosses her arms in a huff, sticking her tongue out.

“Don’t try to hide it,” she says with a waggle of her brow. “You want to go too.”

He scoffs at the statement. “I never said I wouldn’t.”

By the time they reach the beach front, the embers dull and the rainbow disco pales as Victor sets aside his drink, loosens the top button his shirt, and strides onto a dance floor he makes his own in one single, fluid motion. Even as the music begins to heighten from the silence falling around his presence, Yuri knows better - the show had already begun long ago.

Even in Yuri’s memories, Victor is always center-stage.

As he spirals into a drunken, albeit perfect arabesque, Victor gaze falls onto Yuri through the crowd for a split second. His poised hand lingers in the air for a second longer, as if to say I see you, before his head snaps away for the turn.

Yuri’s hand instinctively reaches towards him a second too late, grasping the ghost of Victor’s movements. In Yuri’s memories, he’s reaching for Victor against the glass of Grandfather’s mid-century television set. He remembers wondering if Victor could see him too, the way his hands longingly reach for the screen that separates them. Since then, Yuri was convinced that his path has already been carved out on the ice.

Years ago, he sat mere inches from Grandfather’s old television and light years away from Victor in every way possible. Yet here he is now, enveloped in the same world and close enough for him to feel the wind that follows Victor’s slightest movements.

Yuri looks down at his own hands, which are more graced and less pudgy now than when he was 5, and thinks of the distance left between them.

[suddenwhispers]

I'm excited to be working on this project with you all! Keep a lookout for us :)

Hello, everyone! Sorry for the radio silence, but the exciting time has finally arrived: the contributor lineup for the BNHA Animals Zine! Composed of 36 artists and 14 writers, we’re grateful to our contributors for their effort and support going into the zine! We can’t wait to work with everyone here!

Please make sure to check out all their social medias and support them. All links will be listed underneath the cut!

Keep reading

[suddenwhispers]

✮Haven✮

Somewhere in this concrete jungle, there is evil. And where there is evil, He is there. Always, without fail.

Izuku stares down at the high school application form laid flat on his desk, left untouched and free of any markings. The deadline for submission isn’t for another few months, but even the thought of putting down such a laughable notion makes him shrivel in embarrassment.

He realizes that he’s running through the storm, listening for thunder and chasing lightning. He’s forever searching for a sign - any sign - that might lead him to the answer he wants to hear.

Quirk or not, you can save people.

–All the Stars on AO3

About: My name is Haven, a 20-something year old medical student. My favorite hobbies are overthinking and eating ice cream but you can sometimes find me casually travelling the world in my rare off-time. I also love chicken wings and video games.

Zine Contribution: Writer

Favorite Season: Spring

Favorite aspect of Todoroki’s character: One of Todoroki’s greatest strengths is his goal-oriented mentality, which can also at times be a hinderance on his part. As an ambitious person, I can identify with Todoroki on this aspect of his personality.

✮AO3 | Twitter | Tumblr✮

[suddenwhispers]

"All The Stars" - A Boku no Hero Academia Fanfiction

Title: All The Stars

Rating: T

Pairing: Gen

Words: 2,818

Summary: He had no way of knowing, but there were signs. A telling of Midoriya Izuku before he inherited One for All, how his dreams of being a hero almost killed him, and the one time they saved him.

Read on AO3 http://archiveofourown.org/works/15029327

Or read below the cut:

Midoriya Izuku is used to it. He has no choice.

The sun sets on another lonely day and Izuku sits atop the school roof again, watching his peers leave with each other in flocks and herds. Below, the manifested quirks come together like a zoo, no two exactly alike. He will wait until they’ve all gone – being in school is a constant reminder that he’s not like them.

Only two more years of grade school to hide from, he reminds himself.

Once an unsettling orange casts its shadow across school grounds, he dusts the dirt off his uniform, wipes the fear off his face and begins to head home.

A sigh escapes him, allowing his body relief from the facade of fitting in. Each passing day at school comes with a sad reminder and a paralyzing series of flashbacks. He is different. He is lacking.

Quirkless.

In this ocean of quirks, he is a stone, unable to go against the waves of change. He has been left behind.

Here, he is alone.

Izuku finds himself holding his breath and stiffening his body, feeling the weight of his pinky toe curl beneath his shoes.

--

Every time Izuku even contemplates the idea of letting go, He appears.

With a strong hand and unwavering conviction, All-Might saves him from his insecurities again, and again, and again. From the depths of Izuku’s doubts, He is smiling a smile that cuts through the roots of all negativity.

Somewhere in this concrete jungle, there is evil. And where there is evil, He is there. Always, without fail.

Izuku stares down at the high school application form laid flat on his desk, left untouched and free of any markings. The deadline for submission isn’t for another few months, but even the thought of putting down such a laughable notion makes him shrivel in embarrassment.

He realizes that he’s running through the storm, listening for thunder and chasing lightning. He’s forever searching for a sign - any sign - that might lead him to the answer he wants to hear.

Quirk or not, you can save people.

But he is surrounded by the tempest without a port for pity and searching for a lighthouse through the haze. The world of heroes and villains is unforgiving, and he’s well aware that only those with Quirks hold the power he seeks.

Every day, he is being swallowed whole by the overwhelming competition and guilt of everything he’s born without.

In all the years that have passed, there are still no signs. He begins to think that the lighthouse doesn’t exist.

Despite this, he will not forget who he is. Instead, he will abandon what he thinks he is not. He will be redefined by his own hands, even if they should break.  

The pen hits paper and he takes the first step towards his dream.

--

There is much that Izuku lacks, but he starts with what he can do.

With pen in hand, he outlines the letters in thick strokes across the cover of the marble notebook. HERO ANALYSIS FOR THE FUTURE No.1. May this be the first of many, he thinks to himself.

He runs his fingers over the letters once the ink dries, wondering if he would ever get to be a part of his own creation. To be included amongst the ranks is more than he can ask for. Would anyone even be interested in reading about a quirkless hero? What if there were others out there like Izuku, who could only wish about such a seemingly far away fantasy?

If he ever gets the chance, he would tell them that this book was born from a dream.

He slips the notebook between haphazard papers in his school bag. He may have been born without opportunity, but there was nothing he couldn’t accomplish with his own two hands. No one was going to bring him down without his consent.

--

Izuku dreams of power, so he decides that power is what he must obtain. He will take it in whatever form he can get.

He opens the HERO ANALYSIS FOR THE FUTURE No.13 for the fifth time that day and skims the entries from front to present. He needs to be ready for anything. And if knowledge is power, he plans to use it to achieve his dreams.

At first, the dreams are just empty words - a placeholder, temporary company. Don’t leave, they say. Hold on.

So he does.

There’s not much choice – they’re all he has. He carries his dreams, cradles them in blankets of thought and pillows of wonder. He is convinced that they would die without him. Not once does he stop to think that perhaps it is he who would not last without them.

By the end of the day, the wet remains of the notebook float lifelessly in the school fountain. When he fishes them out, he can only watch as the ink seeps off the pages, months of work washed away in an instant.

“What makes you think you can become a hero, you quirkless brat?” Bakugo instigates with a triumphant grin. “Better luck in your next life!”

It’s then that his dreams begin to haunt him, speaking out of turn and running circles in his mind. They stir an uncomfortable truth in his heart, a manifestation of everything he desires but cannot possibly have.

The doubt begins to creep in.

When his thoughts begin to betray those dreams, Izuku should have known that it was only the beginning. And when the thoughts don’t stop coming, there are no brakes.

Without even a warning, his dreams begin to leave him behind. Izuku misses all the signs.

--

On the cusp between sleep and awake, Izuku meets the manifestation of his doubt in a dream. It is the first missed sign.

He doesn’t remember much else - just two souls, formless and floating across a backdrop of black. The dark doesn’t swallow them; instead, it envelops them in a world where two people could stay together in solitude.

To share loneliness without being alone.

It speaks to him in an amorphous voice. “Don’t be afraid.”

“I’m not,” Izuku answers instinctively, his voice low with caution. He gathers his thoughts for a more careful answer.“I may not know who you are or why we’re here talking like this, but I’m definitely not afraid.”

“Uncertainty and fear are the same. That’s why you doubt your dreams. That’s why I exist with you here, in this space.”

In this faceless conversation, he doesn’t know if it’s reading his mind or reading his tone of voice. Regardless, when the words don’t come, he chokes on the answer that’s spelled out in his silence.

“You doubt your dreams,” it repeats, emphasizing the words with audible force, “and your dreams will doubt you.”

At the moment he awakens, Izuku gasps for breath, crushed by the weight of a  realization bearing new in his bones. Years of self doubt are coming for him and he doesn’t know when or where or how to stop them.

--

Weeks after the dream, he begins to hear his doubt whisper to him. It is the second missed sign.

Izuku walks to school like any other day, his shoulders folding in on himself to hide behind the enormity of his backpack. He feels like he could disappear, fade into invisibility, but never does he keep his head down. There is too much happening in the world around him to simply walk away from it all.

Everyone follows the same converging roads under the morning haze. So when Izuku notices the stampede of students diverging from the path and in the opposite direction, he knows something is off.

In the distance, bright hellfire cuts through the mist, rising higher and faster than its smoke can follow. The blaze of red fights against soft pink of sky until they merge, forming an eternal dawn.

A flurry of thoughts race through Izuku’s mind. Was there an accident? Was is it done on purpose? Is this the work of a villain?

Villain. The thought is all it takes for him to freeze in his footsteps.

“You must run.”

Above the silent chaos that surrounds him, a voice speaks. “You must run,” it tells him again.

It echoes to him, both far away and near, like an old friend after the stretch of many distant years. The words reverb with forceful determination, as if he’s been given no choice.

Does he ever have a choice?

The voice speaks in familiar intonations, as if he were talking to himself. He realizes that the voice is his, even though the thoughts behind the words belong to someone else. His doubt was beginning to manifest outside of sleep, taking form in ways only Izuku could recognize.

But he has no time to question it.

Reality begins to spill back into his senses. The adrenaline spurs in his veins, whirring past his ears and over his head. It returns to his heart in a frantic rush and Izuku clutches his chest as if doing so would keep it from bursting in his cage of a body.

"You cannot stay still."

Izuku isn't sure if it's a question or statement, but between frantic bodies colliding around him, he answers anyway. "No."

"So will you run?"

There is hesitation, but no uncertainty. His body knows the answer before his heart does. “Yes.”

Izuku runs towards the hellfire.

--

What’s left of the hellfire from that morning is an ember of a memory, a quiet yet unsubtle reminder that his efforts are futile and that his dream means nothing in the face of danger.

In the silence of the night, Izuku perches along the side of the bridge railing between the darkness of the busted streetlamp and the endless stretch of night sitting atop the river below. A wind hits him hard and fast, reminding him that in the spring, only the days get warmer and kinder.

He scans the array of functional streetlamps down the road and compares their abundance of light to the broken darkness he sits under. No one is kind to those surrounded by darkness, even if they are the ones who need it the most.

In this dichotomous world, will he only ever have two choices everything he does for the rest of his life?

He shifts his eyes to the black abyss beneath him. He sees no beginning or end, but hears it in the lapping of water against the pillars of the bridge.

Izuku wants to be the one in control, for once.

A wave of nostalgia crashes over him, rising higher in his throat and drowning out his lungs. Emotions are encased in memories of heroes and altruism, of All-Might, and of a dream.

They tell him not to leave, that his faith will not go unrewarded. That this is the final suffering.

Hold on.

But what is he supposed to believe? He’s been told these two words far too many times to know their meaning anymore.

He steps over the edge.

--

He steps over the edge and into what feels like an infinite dream. It is the final missed sign.

Dying is not at all like dreaming, Izuku quickly discovers. Instead of floating, he’s falling. Replacing his hopes and fears is a hollow void. He feels nothing, perhaps because now, he is nothing.

But the dark begins to blossom, giving way to pockets of diamonds unfolding into gentle glimmers across the emptiness. In a matter of moments, Izuku is in the company of a thousand pieces of scattered, fractured lights swirling in whirlpools around him until he is no longer falling, but suspended in a motionless time.

“You’re here.”

Izuku’s heart jumps at the familiarity of his own voice. He whips his head around and is surprised when he is met with familiar emerald eyes in an unfamiliar glower.

There, they exist in discord and harmony, mirror images yet strangers.

Izuku gives a quick head to toe scan of his doppleganger. Despite sharing the same face, the way his eyebrows furrow and the dark glow in his eyes tells Izuku that something is off. Something is wrong.

Years of doubt have taken on a form more serious than he could ever have imagined. Fighting a villain is one thing, but what happens when you become your own worst enemy?

“You don’t belong here.” His other self says and points up. “You belong out there.”

“No, I don’t,” Izuku insists in his mind, pained to have to hear himself admit it. “There’s no possibility out there for a quirkless hero.”

This cruel world has made it clear enough.

The mirror shrugs. “You can’t call yourself a hero. You’ve killed someone.”

A pang of surprise evolves into betrayal on Izuku’s face. He is weak, tired, and lacking, but of all accusations to make, this does not sit well with him.

“I don’t know who you are,” he says, “but you can’t assume who I am or what I’ve done just because we have the same face.”

A wicked smile crawls across his mirror’s lips, and Izuku feels his own lips tense in anticipation.

“Whether you have a quirk or not, everyone is born with the power to save a soul or take it away. Life is fragile that way.” The smile wipes from his face, a dark expression replacing it. “What you do with that power is what separates the heroes and the villains.”

It’s all true, Izuku thinks to himself. There’s no denying that even before the era of quirks, concepts such as altruism and murder had already long existed. But he hasn’t an inkling as to what it has to do with him.

Izuku tightens his jaw, taking precautions with his words. “What are you implying?”

“So you want to be a hero now, do you?” The mirror leans in close until Izuku is acutely aware of the synchrony of their breaths. “Then tell me: How can you expect to save others when you can’t even save yourself?”

Izuku feels his heart drop to his stomach and a throbbing echo between his ears. There is no denying the failure of his ventures, but he hadn’t thought to look at it that way before.

Visions of All-Might atop hurdles of debris flood his memory. Even then, he was smiling. When was the last time Izuku had smiled?

Hypocrite.

It’s true that he can’t save anyone the way he is now. But if he were ever to become hero, he would need to save people, and that had to start with saving himself.

Does he have the right?

“So what will you do about it?” His mirror coaxes.

The answer is instantaneous. “Anything,” he says with regretful resolve, knowing well that he is in no position to declare something so absurd. “I’d do whatever I could.”

What he wouldn’t give for another chance.

“Ok then. I’m not here to stop you.” The mirror quips almost too easily. “You do that enough to yourself.” With the snap of his fingers, the stars stop spinning in their orbit and even the silence that follows becomes still.

“If you’re not trying to stop me, why are you here?” Izuku questions.

The mirror replies through an impish grin.“To tell you to start by doing something.”

It is the last thing he hears beyond the stormy white that overtakes his consciousness.

The next time he awakens, Izuku finds himself at the edge of the river, cold and aching with no memories of when or why or how.

Most of what Izuku remembers is just that he is there, alone. But now, he is without loneliness. Replacing it is an overwhelming warmth radiating from his the palm of his hand, a gentle creature without form or definition or restraint.

He remembers feeling like freedom. Like hope.

Like maybe, just maybe, he could save someone.

--

Izuku has a choice. He decides not to settle.

On the morning of his high school entrance exam the rising sun skirts the edges of ocean water, mirrored across the vast stretch of sand beneath him. Izuku remembers the filth laid to waste along the now barren shores from only months ago and feels the tiniest pang of pride rise within him. They casted him aside, and he’s only stronger for it.

It is as All-Might tells him. All-Might, who is once unreachable, is just a little more human now.

You can be a hero.

As the morning grows bright, he also remembers the night. Memories of a dream manifest into a reality spread before him. How many lonely nights did he have to trek through to reach where he is now?

Not even all the stars in the exosphere could have warned him about this future that was waiting for him.

He clenches his fists and feels the current of potential dancing across his skin, coursing from head to toe.

[suddenwhispers]

I'm excited to be participating as the SUMMER WRITER for the upcoming Todoroki zine: Your Power! Look forward to it :)

We’re excited to announce the full contributor list for Your Power, a zine dedicated to loving and uplifting Todoroki Shouto. Zine pre-orders will open mid-August. Follow us on ✧Tumblr & ✧Twitter for updates! Check out our: ✧Schedule | ✧Info & Specs | ✧FAQs

🌸Spring

illustrators:  ✧Kam | ✧Iggiesca Asdy | ✧Alicia | ✧Hebes

✧CCCastor | ✧Andy | ✧Nana / Motekill | ✧princeorca | ✧Benadikt

comic:  ✧Nieniekoto

merch:  ✧Hiiarts | ✧Jest

writers:  ✧Castiiron | ✧Esselle

🌊Summer

illustrators:  ✧Ann | ✧Saurr | ✧Ezaria Umiko | ✧Bridges | ✧Mitsouparker

✧Poxei | ✧BunBuns | ✧SpaceBoomerang | ✧Zilla

comic:  ✧Xilo Hrdz

merch:  ✧Schaaf

writer:  ✧Haven

🍂Autumn

illustrators:  ✧DoublXpresso | ✧Evangel Rose | ✧Moraemiho | ✧RunnyfawnO

✧Mokkorin | ✧Nuka | ✧Sepharic | ✧Souruuriin | ✧Tamika

comic:  ✧Maddie

merch:  ✧Catpaku

writers:  ✧Kim | ✧Satbiym

❄️Winter

illustrators:   ✧Cainternn | ✧Huixci | ✧Chen | ✧Mint-tan |

✧Ryna | ✧Poopie | ✧Kieran Quigley | ✧Alexgv | ✧Yen

comic:  ✧Viryse

merch:  ✧Erin Tate | ✧Jeanini

writer:  ✧Tiramisu_3

🔥Mods❄️

✧Ash | ✧Sani | ✧Slepsy | ✧Kiku

[suddenwhispers]

Im excited to be a writer for the upcoming BNHA yearbook themed zine: YEAR ONE! Excited to be writing so much :)

WE PRESENT TO YOU, THE OFFICIAL YEARBOOK COMMITTEE!  

MODS: Crimson Tumblr | Twitter  ✬ Kim Tumblr | Twitter   ✬  Soju Tumblr | Twitter   ✬ Phayte AO3/ Tumblr/Twitter

WRITERS:

thais (itsclowreedsfault)  AO3 | Tumblr/Twitter jay (lowermiddlechild) AO3  david (Agent_Fluff) AO3 | Tumblr | Twitter   satbiym AO3 | Tumblr   haven (suddenwhispers)  Tumblr | Twitter

ARTISTS: minibuddy Tumblr | Twitter alktomycin Tumblr | Twitter kinji Tumblr | Twitter loveariddle Tumblr | Twitter chalaite Tumblr | Twitter babypears Tumblr | Twitter tamika Tumblr | Twitter   toneru Tumblr | Twitter bunbuns Tumblr | Twitter alicenpai Tumblr | Twitter alex Tumblr | Twitter   helenpeanut Tumblr | Twitter souruuriin Tumblr | Twitter rachel elese Instagram | Twitter nappotuna Tumblr | Twitter meanhouseart Tumblr | DA  yunjung Instagram | Twitter jaykittens Instagram | Twitter mysticalflyte Tumblr | Twitter mitsou Instagram | Twitter hebes Tumblr | Instagram

Watch us out as we deliver you the BNHA Yearbook Zine!!

Go Beyond, PLUS ULTRA!  ٩(≧◡≦ )ง

[suddenwhispers]

INTRODUCING SHALL WE READ’S ISSUE 2 CONTRIBUTORS!

At long last, we are proud to reveal the contributors for “Issue 2: Time”! The issue will be released on July 31, though you can look forward to seeing previews of contributors’ pieces starting July 21!

SFW WRITERS

Abby @japansace • AceMoppet @acemoppet • Angel @plstskys • Annabeth @helm-puppet-trash • astudyinrose @victuuriplease • Gem Sheps @yurio • FullmetalChords @phoenixrei • Haven @suddenwhispers • Joey @yuuris-piano • Katy @youremarvelous • louciferish @louciferish • Noeya @n-o-e-y-a • savedbythenotepad @savedbythenotepad • spookyfoot @spookyfoot

NSFW WRITERS

AJ Wolf @ajwolf84 • Akiko @dreaming-fireflies • feelslikefire twitter@wonderthighs41 • Harky @midnightmooncatcher

SFW ARTISTS

alli @nikiforoov • Banacotta @banacotta • ghostly @ghostlybl​ • Henrietta @henreyettah​ • Sarah Eliya @viktuuri-pork​

NSFW ARTISTS

Claramarla @claramarla​ • Gen @chou-hei​ • Saniika @saniika

Cover Artist

Quel twitter@quelmdn

We’re thrilled to have a chance to work with these creators and can’t wait to show you what they come up with for this issue ♡