#aizawa is alive once again

[dadzawa004]

Hey kiddos, just a quick post but please be safe when browsing the internet when you're little! Especially Tumblr. I'm afraid alot of tags that are supposed to be sfw/agere friendly is being override with NSFW and videos that you shouldn't be seeing. If you stumble on something you believe is nsfw, I highly encourage you to report and block. Im trying to get in contact with Tumblr staff about it, but there is so much I can do because usually they don't do anything about it.

safe browsing and remember to block and report as much as you can 🖤 -Aizawa

[sourlove]

I loved your new post about yandere mha boys with pregnant reader I was wondering if you could do one where the baby isn’t there’s and they don’t realise until it’s born ? Pleaseee

YANDERE MHA 'YOU ARE NOT THE FATHER!'

ft. Midoriya, Bakugo, Todoroki, Aizawa

TW: OBSESSION, YANDERE THEMES, ACCUSATIONS OF CHEATING, KIDNAPPING, METIONED MURDER, MENTIONED BABY-GO-BYE-BYE BUT LIKE SUBTLY i hope

Thanks for the ask!

READ PART 1 HERE

MIDORIYA IZUKU

Oh dear...that's certainly a problem. The birth of your first child was something he was looking forward to with a lot of hope. Hope that seeing him caring for the child would spark a love for him finally. Unfortunately, it's obvious the child wasn't his, and they didn't look like you either.

You had cheated on him. Well, not actually. In truth, by the time Izuku kidnapped you, you were already pregnant with your current partner, who Izuku got rid of, but none of you were aware of it at the time. But acknowledging that was acknowledging that Izuku's image of a perfect family had shattered and it was all his fault.

So he blames you. Throws all sorts of accusations about you cheating and sneaking out to see other men, and then dumping your bastard baby on him. He refuses to have anything to do with the child and only used them to keep you in line, threatening to get rid of them if you misbehaved. Izuku felt broken. He felt as if everything had taken a sudden wrong turn in his life. He felt like he just lost control of the life he had planned. Everything was going to be perfect, your lives were going to be perfect. Then you had to go and spoil it all.

The only thing you can do at this point is try to make him happy. Maybe if you have a couple of kids that are actually his, he will be willing to forgive you and accept that child as a member of his family.

BAKUGO KATSUKI

Katsuki is angry. But not at you, he's just pissed that he didn't see something like this coming. When that filthy bastard that used to call himself your boyfriend put his hands all over you, how could Katsuki forget? If he had known sooner, he could have done something to stop it before it got too far.

But he's too late now. Worst part is, he has to watch you pay more attention to a brat that isn't even his. Katsuki grudgingly helps with the baby, still a bit resentful that he wasn't the one to knock you up first. The kid starts to grow on him soon. The little brat sort of reminds him of you and he can even pretend it's his for a moment.

It's not too bad, Katsuki decided one night as the baby lay fast asleep on his chest and you curled up next to him on the couch, dozing off as well. Maybe he was cut out for this family shit after all.

TODOROKI SHOTO

Oh boy...

He's relieved that he technically had no part to play in it but he's also very pissed. Who would dare to touch his darling? He hates the thought of anyone being able to impregnate you other than him.

Shoto is literally acting hot and cold, sometimes being helpful and supportive, other times dismissive and harsh. He's not quite sure what to do with another man's baby. All his fears about bringing in a child that has his family traits have disappeared but there's still an actual, living baby to consider.

He tries to get out of his head a bit when he sees you are actually struggling to take care of the baby and of yourself too. All things considered, he still loves you. For now, Shoto will just concentrate on keeping the baby alive and keeping you happy.

AIZAWA SHOTA

He's surprisingly chill about the whole affair. As an underground hero, Shota's seen a lot of people in a lot of different situations. Things like this just happen. While he's definitely surprised, he adapts pretty quickly. He's a pretty good dad, very reliable when you're not feeling a 100%. It really improves your opinion of him and makes you more comfortable around him.

Don't let your guard down though. Shota isn't going to settle for just one kid. Once you're healed, get ready to get pregnant again :)

I HAVE A MASTERPOST WITH LINKS TO MY YANDERE MHA HEADCANONS AND FANFICS HERE

A/N: Please leave a like, comment and reblog if you enjoyed this! Also tagging people can be a bit confusing because I always forget who wants to be tagged so if you do want to be tagged, please specify whether you want to be tagged for a particular series or for all my work.

[iwashieonhiatus]

MELTING MAGNETS

!! mdni, f!reader(25+), age gap(10/15 years), male characters 35+ !!

Older man who worked hard to have the life he has and couldn’t get a love, keep a love or find someone his age willing to share and build with him and now he’s given up on it, living life as it comes, without much expectation. Older man tired of everything.

Older man tired of everything, believing that he was going to die alone, until he exchanged glances at you and his heart pounded again, his body reacted as if it was being turned on after a long time of no use.

“I’m old enough to be your parent.” "You’re nothing mine, but you can be."

Older man who, every time he convinced himself that he couldn’t do that, found himself closer to you, getting closer little by little, opening up as if you were the key to everything he kept.

Older man who felt bad for letting you into his life, getting real laughs and smiles out of him, arousing an interest in being protective, an interest in wanting to know more about you, of always being close to you, listening to your voice, smelling and touching you.

Older man who could easily lose control when around you, letting you shape him as you pleased, showing what it was like to fall in love all over again.

Older man who knew it was dangerous to get involved with younger women.

However, your touch seemed to catch him on fire, warming every bone in his body and melting away all the protection he’d created. Your kiss made him want more, made him hungry, wishing he had everything you were offering to him. You together, touching, kissing, loving, whispering truths in the urgency, wanting more from each other, burned violently.

You awakened what had long died in him. You burned in him the will to accomplish what he once gave up.

You two played this game of desire and secrecy, playing the dangerous, dancing past the point of return, far from what he swore was right for both of you.

“I just want you. Tell me what you want.”

Older man who felt guilty and walked away, tried once again with people his age, but to no avail. He kept thinking about what the two of you would be like, how things were with you. Older man who found himself trapped in something he couldn’t undo.

“Never really felt bad about it. Let go, we can free ourselves of all we’ve learned.”

Older man who couldn’t stay away from you, always bumping when you two were in the same place, attracting each other like magnets. Older man who couldn’t help but desire you and not end up in a secluded corner where that fire melted you both and ended up molding yourselves in each other’s hands.

It’s inevitable for you two.

Older man who couldn’t stand the lonely life anymore and after he discovered you, he couldn’t go back to the old, he didn’t want to go back to the past. He felt alive after a long time; He wanted to feel the things you awakened in him, embrace that secret language of yours and not go back.

Older man who embraced the point of no return, allowed himself again, learning what it was like to be alive, not regretting being with you, choosing you over what he thought was right, not caring what others said or judged.

Older man who was happy and ready to make his dreams come true with a younger person willing to share and build things that others didn’t want. Older man who was on fire like he used to be, wishing he had you forever.

noel noa, marc snuffy, aizawa, nanami, shiu, kunikida, hirotsu, keishin ukai, ur fav !!

© iwashie 2023, please do not translate, modify or republish my works

[bicheetopuff]

(Ch. 336)

You know, this panel has always made me a little curious. Every other time we saw Izuku sparring with Katsuki (before the war started at least), he’d use blackwhip to defend himself, hence ‘catch-a-kacchan’ so I found it weird how Izuku didn’t even try to grab Katsuki. For like 100 chapters prior to this, he used blackwhip for everything and would eventually just leave it out incase he needed it quickly kinda like how Hawks utilized his feathers (when he had them) so I kinda just made a mental note about how weird it was that Izuku chose to evade instead of defend when he easily could’ve.

I also found it weird how quickly Izuku wanted to change the topic along with the distress on his face. I thought it was just a cheap and ooc way of explaining Todoroki’s new power quickly but, since it’s now confirmed that Izuku has PTSD about Katsuki’s sacrifice, what if Katsuki’s cluster move triggers that trauma response too?

The next time we see cluster used with Izuku present, Izuku actually does respond with blackwhip.

(Ch. 404)

He doesn’t use it in defense though, he uses it in almost possessive way by securing their hands together with it. But also, he doesn’t speak for this entire chapter. It could be explained away by the side effect of using gearshift and him not being able to breath but before now, he’s been more focused while in distress and was also speaking just fine before. Though, in these panels, and through the entire chapter, he seems almost delirious and in shock. He’s not even reacting to the lack of oxygen anymore.

He even starts ignoring Shigaraki in these moments. He’s stunned and mesmerized but now I’m starting to question whether he’s amazed or scared out of his mind for what might happen. With that uncertainty, all that I can say confidently is that he’s distracted.

(Season 7 ep. 4)

Arguably after chapter 404, he stops thinking straight and, honestly, gets a little sloppy. A few chapters after this, is when gets danger sense stolen and starts getting truly injured. He makes the decision to give away OFA and loses his arms. He reverts right back into his “I don’t care what happens to me” mentality that his class has been trying to get him to grow out of for a while.

He wasn’t mentally prepared for something to go wrong in this fight. He wasn’t mentally prepared to be pulled away, leaving Katsuki with Shigaraki. I thought it was just iffy writing that he’d mentally regress after Katsuki woke up instead of before but, it honestly makes a lot more sense now. He cared about what happened to himself because he needed to stay alive to ensure Katsuki’s revival. Once Katsuki woke up and he watched him fight AFO, he started being reckless again. He went back to viewing himself as nothing but a vessel for OFA because he believes OFA is the only thing that can beat AFO, hence why he trusted the vestiges when they said “we can fight him from the inside” (which I think was a silly decision. It’s noble in theory but it amounted to nothing because Izuku can’t win in this regressive state of self sacrifice anymore. Or at least, he shouldn’t since it’s such a big part of his arc.).

And now, with the most recent chapter with most of his classmates present it seems like he’s regretting that decision because he’s being reminded that people care about him. They showed up to support him regardless of already being hurt because he can’t win on his own. Eri mutilated herself to help him and if that doesn’t tell him that fighting without the intent of not dying is stupid, idk what will.

(Ch. 421)

He was about to just throw himself back into the fight with the same mindset as before if Aizawa didn’t stop him. He looks frustrated because he realizes the weight of what he’s been doing and how looking up to AM and the previous vestiges shouldn’t be his role models right now considering all of their fates. He’d just be continuing OFAs curse like Katsuki’s been worried about for a hundred something chapters.

In conclusion, this post was very unfocused but I can’t wait to see Izuku kick ass and for Katsuki to show back up because with the impact he’s had on Izuku, I DESPERATELY need them to talk. Most of this post may have very well been a stretch but, let me be delusional please.

[angels-fantasy]

Girl let me just say your fics are superb and thanks for the quirkless child one I requested with Bakugou! I promise I’ll leave you be for a bit in a second, but… post final war; everyone who has came out alive clearly is suffering from injuries, health issues, and trauma (both physical trauma and mental trauma) no? So how about a Bakugou x Reader with a reader who was essentially Bubbly, Firery and Energetic, to after the war who is exhausted, is often having nightmares over Bakugou cause well he nearly died, sleep deprived and basically depressed because I can guarantee nobody should be sane after a war, especially not children like our lovely highschoolers. Please make it angst to comfort, because seeing how Bakugou also has developed I’m sure as sad as he would be he would also be understanding and try to be comforting (despite his awkwardness). I’d appreciate if you could get this done to be as close as possible (and maybe just a little long than the one I requested last time- no pressure) BUT if anything you find in my request may be too triggering or something feel free to make it less triggering and change it, I just ask if you can keep the same vibe and theme with the reader who changed drastically after the wars and is getting comforted by Bakugou, Angst to comfort (duh), thank you so much, and I hope I’m not troubling you too much! — An anon who enjoys suffering, angst, and comfort ((SAC) Anon); (get it? Suffering, Angst, Comfort, SAC, wait that has a good ring to it, damn I have a new alias, I’ll shut up now)

I'm Okay, As Long as He's Here (Request)

Katsuki Bakugou x Reader

Details/Warnings: reader has a panic attack and nightmares!! pls be weary of this. angst to fluff, well, my attempt at angst lol

Word Count: 1k

thank you for your request and the support :D it means a lot to me 🩷 btw don't ever feel like you're bothering me or like you need to leave me alone! i like talking to everyone :) also this is a good little plot, but im not the best at writing angst but this is helping me improve i think, so please tell me how i did! i really hope you like it SAC anon hahah

Before the war, you were a different person. Looking at you now, no one would ever guess you were once a bubbly, out going person. But Katsuki knew you were, and sometimes, he missed the old you.

It was hard to watch you wake up crying in the middle of the night from your horrible nightmares of the war. Some being about his near death experience, and others being about him dying in other ways.

Some nights, you didn't sleep at all, and it was really showing.

"Hey, keep your head up. I don't want you to fall asleep." Katsuki said. It was already months after the war, so you were all back at school, but you were one of the few students that was struggling the most.

He definitely has his struggles too, but he knew he had to be there for you, because yours were much worse.

You opened your eyes wider, trying your best to stay awake. "Sorry. I couldn't sleep last night."

"You havin' nightmares again?"

You nodded, he sighed.

"Come sleep in my dorm tonight. You sleep better with me and you know it."

You agreed and continued trying your best to stay awake for the rest of the day. Occasionally, Katsuki would have to wake you up or remind you to stay awake. The lack of sleep made it hard to focus, especially in Hero Training. Thankfully, Mr. Aizawa and the rest of the teachers were understanding of the students who were struggling.

Once school was over it felt like a weight was lifted off of your shoulders. You knew you had homework to do, but right now you'd rather sleep. Or at least attempt to. Since you were going to be with Katsuki tonight, you were probably only going to have one nightmare. Plus, he'd be there to comfort you.

Following your boyfriend to his dorm room, you immediately changed into some of your clothes that he had there for you, and then laid down on his bed.

For a while, you just silently watched him as he sat at his desk and did his homework, something you should also be doing.

"What're you starin' at?"

You smiled, but not as brightly as before, "I'm just admiring you."

He huffed, "Good, I'm awesome."

Rolling your eyes, you said, "And there he is."

He laughed and continued doing his homework. You just continued watching him, because it was something that comforted you. It was a reminder that he was okay and alive.

Knowing he was safe right in front of you, you fell asleep.

...

You didn't know what time it was, but it must've been late since the room you were in was dark.

You clutched your chest as you sat up in bed and breathed heavily, feeling tears prick your eyes.

Of course, you had another nightmare again. This one in particular was about Katsuki, and he was in the arms of Shigaraki. You saw the villain use his Decay quirk on him, and your boyfriend began to crumble away but you were paralyzed in your dream. There was nothing you could do.

The nightmare felt so real and so scary, like they usually do. You felt so helpless and scared. The evil that emitted from Shigaraki and All For One was something you'd always remember.

You subconsciously began to rock yourself back and forth and made self soothing noises as you continued to have a panic attack. They never got easier, or less scary as time went on. It always felt like you were going to die.

Your panic must've woke Katsuki up, because you suddenly heard his voice calling out to you.

"Hey, hey! Breathe baby, you gotta breathe." He said.

You shook your head, "I-I can't! It hurts. I'm scared, I'm gonna die!"

He carefully grabbed your hands and held them in his. He took one of them and brought it to his chest near his heart so you could feel it beat.

"What is my heart doing right now?" He asked. This was a method he used to ground you during these situations, especially because he knew how you felt about him and his safety.

You looked at his chest, "Beating. Your heart is beating."

"Right. Now what do you feel here?" He asked, now placing a hand on the blanket that was on top of you guys.

"The blanket."

"What does it feel like?"

"It's soft and fluffy."

As he continued distracting you from your panic, you eventually calmed down. You were still crying a bit, but he held you in his arms as you let it out.

"He killed you Katsuki. I was so scared, and I couldn't do anything!" You cried into his chest.

He rubbed your back, "You know that shit isn't real, no matter how real it feels. I'm right here living and breathing. I'm safe, okay?"

You nodded and sniffed, "Okay." You placed a hand on his chest over his heart and felt it beat, the steady rhythm of it comforting you.

Katsuki grabbed that hand and kissed the palm of it, "Love you. I'll be here all night, 'kay?"

"I love you too. Thank you."

"It's no problem."

The next morning, you felt more rested than usual. It must've been because you only had one nightmare, which was an improvement.

You noticed you woke up before your boyfriend, so you just let him sleep a little longer while you got on with your morning routine. You had a lot of your own things in his room, including an extra toothbrush which you were thankful for.

When he eventually woke up, he walked over to you and hugged you tightly.

"You feelin' okay?" He asked.

You nodded as best as you could in his tight grip, "Mhm."

"Be honest."

"I am! I feel a lot better than last night." You insisted as you pulled away slightly, still keeping your arms around him.

He hummed and kissed the top of your head, "Mkay. Wanna sleep with me again tonight?"

"Yeah, I'll bring more clothes later."

He smiled, "'Kay. Let's go to class." He said and threw an arm over your shoulder, making you smile up at him.

Yeah, you knew things would be okay as long as he was around.

authors note

i hope you liked it! i'm sorry it was kinda short, i've been in a little writing stump but im trying to get out of it!

love ya 🩷

tags for bakugou fics: @doumadono @shonen-brainrot

[puppyguppy]

There's a moment a few select individuals were privy to. A memory forever burned into some lucky handful of brains; those that'd been there, and not drunk enough to forget it. No one's sure if Aizawa even remembers it -- the core of the memory itself. That moment-maker. Not a single soul has been brave enough to bring it back up, or maybe everyone's just been too busy, recovering still, and rebuilding.

Which is what should've happened that night, but.

Those lucky, lucky few disagree.

Vehemently.

All in all, it'd been good for everyone.

An irresponsible reprieve, yes, but they were all so sick of being strong and responsible and the ones left alive. Aizawa, one of the most. Maybe the most -- out of the adults around, anyways. (Not that the kids could really be considered kids anymore.)

So, maybe that's why he'd allowed himself to drink so much. To drink so much, and let it go to his head instead of his heart. To drink so much, and let it take him to the dancefloor of the club, instead of the couch in his campus apartment. He'd still be in uniform, technically, not that anyone cared about that in the interim. The upper half of his jumpsuit had been folded and knotted around his waist though, chest clad in a black tank top. He'd had his hair tied up -- sort of. In this messy updo he'd temporarily adopted, which infuriated some and sexually frustrated others. Not that he knew, or cared. At least, that'd been the general assumption.

But, war changed a man.

As did twelve drinks.

Or, maybe, he'd always been like that.

After all, he had been friends with the R-Rated Hero, and Present Mic was only just barely any better.

It'd been Yamada, actually, that'd sparked the whole thing. No one knows exactly what he'd said, or did, outside of say something in Aizawa's ear and sway his hips. But, it'd made Aizawa laugh; the kind of laugh that'd thrown his head back and everything. And then, for those that'd just so happened to have been watching; heads turned and eyes pulled to that one particular spot on the sweaty, crowded floor, like Fate herself had guided them --

They got to watch Aizawa dance.

They got to watch him pop a hip, and then the other, the action immediately repeated and accentuated by the bunch of his costume around his waist. He'd been on beat without even trying, his body not even stuttering as pops smoothly rolled into waves. While the song that'd been playing at the time had been suggestive, what Aizawa had done with his body had been borderline obscene. Even if only because anyone watching felt like they'd gotten a glimpse of some Victorian lass's ankle for the very first time. And then.

And then.

He'd done this cheeky little spin on his good leg, thrown his head back again, his tank top stretched just enough to expose a little strip of hip, and -

and his hair had fallen, fluffy and gorgeous and all down in his face, the hairtie lost to the abyss of bodies. It'd shocked him into another laugh, but not bad enough to stop him from dancing, from damn near grinding -- no, that'd only stopped once Yamada couldn't take it anymore, and slapped his ass with a hand before more or less collapsing against his side.

He'd looked so young, for just those few minutes. Which was to say, he'd looked his age. Despite everything, despite the loss, he'd looked happy. And so, so fucking hot.

And for some, more than two but less than a hundred, that's now the memory that gets them through the day.

And well into the night.

The world was worth saving, the war worth winning, and the aftermath worth surviving.

[todorokis-girl]

I Never Knew You Were Alive - Soulmate AU (II)

Touya x f!reader

I do apologize, I have a certain love for the mundane, and I like to expand on boring things before I get to the "meat" of the story. This one has nothing but mundane.

If anyone has any suggestions, I am open to hearing them. I have a rough plot, but like I said, I get side tracked with exploring random things, my pacing can be kind of slow. I do filler chapters when I feel like writing but I haven't finished the main chapter yet.

Also, if you want to get tagged in the next one, please let me know.

No actual dabi in this one

Chapter I: So it starts Chapter II: A late arrival Chapter III: belive of be doomed Chapter IV: What are we doing? Chapter V: Last minute encounter Chapter VI: Deciding to fall in love with you

masterlist

Previous chapter

Next chapter

.........................................................................................................................

Chapter II: A late Arrival

As the sun rose over the horizon, painting the sky in hues of pink and gold, a new day dawned at The Hero Academy. Excitement buzzed through the corridors, echoing the eager chatter of students and the hushed whispers of anticipation, at what this new semester would bring them.

Amidst the throng of pupils eagerly making their way to class, one figure stood out—a newcomer, her footsteps quickened by nerves and determination. Unbeknownst to the students, she was already late, the weight of unfamiliar hallways slowing her progress as she navigated the maze of the school seemingly for the first time, even though she had been there before, as a student herself. With each passing minute, her heart raced, a slow, calming breath exhaled though her nostrils, the anxiety of tardiness threatening to overshadow the promise of a fresh start; and as she finally stepped through the classroom door, a momentary pause hung in the air, hinting at the unexpected journey that lay ahead. 

She was unlucky Aizawa had told her to simply step into the classroom the moment she arrived, he had start of the semester paperwork to get done, he could leave them alone for a couple of minutes to wait for her. New people scared her, and children made her anxious. Why did she think she could do this job again? Keigo had a point telling her to reject the job. 

She placed her things quickly behind the podium, and grabbed a piece of white chalk from a box of them that already lived there. She was gonna do the classic cliche of writing her name on the board; but what was she to do, she was anxious and still terrified to attempt to look at the students. Taking a second to adjust to the admosphre, and get their attention withought looking at them seemed the most apropriate. 

She hadn't meant to be late, she woke up this morning at the UA dorms like she was supposed to, with plenty of time to spare, she was even having a lovely talk with her new co-worker about how to approach the students of class 1A; but there had been a sudden emergency at the agency and Endeavor was already split with work. As talented and powerful as he is, he can't be in two opposing places at once; and she was still the second to call there. 

The coffee was sweet, with an adequate amount of creamer, it tasted... perfect nutty with a creamy texture "This is delicious," My eyes brighten intensely making direct eye contact with Aizawa, Sh was truly not expecting it to be so good "thank you for the coffee" I'm never going to a coffee shop again. 

He ignored her and started talking about his students, giving careful insight into the ones he considered harder to handle "Bakugou can be a little rough, he might sound aggressive, but he's truly just a dedicated person" She nodded signaling that she was listening, but never forgetting her coffee. 

As calming as the morning might seem from an outside perspective, she wasn't feeling calm at all, and she didn't know why. She woke up with waves of anxiety washing over her, and as the hours passed, anxiety turned to determination and slowly... a weird mixture between happiness, satisfaction and sadness. Where it al came from she didn't really know. What she did know is that she was thankful Eraserhead had taken time out of his morning to help her out not just with advice, but with company, allowing her to control the conflicting shift of emotions. Even if she didn’t really know where they came from. 

She was about to open her mouth, to ask a question about the best way to structure lessons for them, to add to the previous insight she was given, but she was stopped by the loud ring of her phone, the ringtone she had for any calls coming from the agency. 

She quickly picked up the phone, excusing herself from her co-worker "This better be important, Heatstroke" She took one sip of her coffee as she heard the intense response, "Endeavor is busy in a meeting with the commissioner, emergency fire at a building, too hot for any of us to walk into....it's the bluefire quirk" immediately putting the mug down (regretfully), she hung the phone and got ready to leave

Before she could she quickly turned to Aizawa, before leaving "I might be a little late... any chance you'll keep the students entertained until I get back?" A hopeful expression covering her face. 

"Just walk in, they won't burn the classroom down, or I'll make them suffer; a couple of minutes won't hurt" I laughed running out the door, his reply calmingly amusing and grateful my hero suit was my uniform. 

She took one final deep breath when her name was finally written on the board, time to turn around... 

She cleared her throat attempting to get the attention of the members of the class, not noticing that she already had it "Good morning students, sorry for the wait," she greeted them with her usual bright smile, hero work had it's perks outside of using your quirk freely; it provided professional level acting experience "I'm the temperature hero, Thermiforst, and I will be your teacher for the new class 'Alternative Strategies' it's a pleasure to meet you all" 

.......

"You did good, the students seem to like you" She looked up from her paperwork to make eye contact with Aizawa, making her relax just a little bit. She had been overthinking all day about the impression she had made of the students of both class A and B. 

"Thank you, it was all thanks to you really, "controlled curiosity"? Was not expecting that to work" He sat down a cup of lavender tea (the smell was quickly feeling her nostrils, she didn't even need to get close to the cup to identify the type) next to the paperwork she was working on, following it up with a plump and juicy looking peach. She smiled and looked up at him carefully, with a soft smile, she felt so welcomed "Thank you". He simply waved her off over his shoulders as he walked away to his own desk. 

Going back to your old school always sounds like such a lame thing to do. Sort of like reminding yourself of all the times graduated students would come back to the school to visit to seem cool, and it just ended up seeming stupid; it's different when you're coming back to teach, but it still gives a bad feeling at first. 

Also, the whole thing with Hawks the week before had undeniably rattled her, at first she was just mad that he was implying that she couldn't take care of herself as well as the students, but now, with fresh eyes and a new perspective of the situation... she was just worried. Hawks was over protective of her, so was everyone else around her, but this was unusual, he'd never question her heroism, or her ability to take care of herself. He knew more than he was saying, and if she knew anything about Keigo and his background, the hero comission was one-thousand percent behind all of this, and that scared her; it appeared he was in a lot more danger than she could possibly be. 

The league of villains. She could see how the comission could care about them, currently they are a danger to not just society but the hero community, and there was no chance, the hero comission was simply going to let that go... 

Kaigo... what the hell did you get yourself into... 

Her thoughts running so high she once again started to feel a slight bothersome in her soulmate mark, it always demanded attention when she seemed to be running high on emotions. She always thought, it was simply her body asking for her soulmate for comfort, but she didn't have the ability to do that; and she hated the constant reminder. 

ding 

She got snapped out of her thoughts and her eyes went to her phone freshly lit up screen. A fresh message from Keigo. Speak of the devil.

'How was the first day with the brats?' She looked over at the time realizing that she was due to clock out, and started packing up her things before she took the time to answer the message. Quietly thanking him for reminding her she did't have to sit there indefinitely. 

She placed the straps over her shoulder, the weight of the one strap she used causing her to lean slightly to the side. She took the clip off and dropped it on her desk, if she forgot to take it off, she would have nothing to hold her hair up with it. 

She finally took her phone to finally reply to her messages; as she did she remembered the blue flames from earlier in the morning, and how for some reason they had caused a sense of familiarity and a deep longing. 

She was used to walking on fires, and extremely cold temperatures; nothing to worry about. What she was worried about what the fire felt like, on her skin, it felt like she could stand there for hours and feel at peace. She felt comfort. She'd have to look into it later. 

'It was really fun, don't call them brats, they're really sweet kids' 

'yeah yeah, whatever. I'll see you this weekend for coffee as usual, right?' 

'of course loser, stay alive till then, ok?' 

'Sure, See you Tomorrow at the usual place" 

'see you tomorrow’ 

Weeks later

In the hushed confines of the darkened living room, a rhythmic tapping sound reverberated as the back of laptop was lifted the back of her laptop, her fingers clutching the sleek device with a hint of tension. Her gaze remained fixed, unwavering, on the solitary blue radiance emanating from the unassuming coffee machine stationed on the kitchen counter. Yet, amidst the ambient glow, her vision faltered, blurred by the shimmer of tears that veiled her eyes, from her perspective, casting twin reflections of the light. As they spilled over, tracing a silent journey down her cheek, the world seemed to blur into a poignant symphony of emotion. 

She had a feeling that something was off, her soulmate's name on the inside of her arm burned, it burned so much it made her resolve falter. She went into the blue flames enveloping the building, with the intention of finding survivors, she was the only one who could walk into them; and Endeavor had been in the middle of a reunion with the commissioner when everything started.

The feeling of the fire on her skin felt... calming, almost comforting, and it shook her to her core but she ignored it and pushed herself to walk to save people. Through out the entire event, the more she stood in the flame, the more her soulmate mark screamed. Once the job was done, and the reports are written she gave herself the time to look over the person behind the fire. 

Dabi, member of the League of Villains, quirk? Bluefire. Similar to Endeavor's.. but hotter, much hotter, so much hotter it seems, that it slowly burns away his own body from the inside out. No one knows where he came from, who he is or even what his name is; all we know is that he's... Dabi. 

The current knowledge was making her overthink, what she was thinking was insane, absolutely fucking crazy. yet, if it was true... it wouldn't be hard to believe. Sure, Endeavor helped her out, basically raised her and allowed her to use the family name after her own parents ditched her... but she wasn't delusional. Enji Todoroki wasn't a saint, and she knew it. The state of the family was definitely a tall tell sign of that. 

You're crazy, years without a soulmate has made you delusional. 

But, the feelings, the soulmate marks, the quirk similarities with Endeavor, the seeming obsession with Shouto and Endeavor.... 

She had to find him, he was out there and she had to find him. She was going to ask him, and she'd let him go, just this once... for his troubles, just in case she was wrong. She needed to tell him, even if she had no response from him. Because if she was right, he already knew who she was, and that killed her. 

She quickly snapped herself out of her trance, and looked around the even darker room, random scattered lights all around from multiple appliances; she took a deep breath to snap herself out of the heartbreak she had caused herself and opened her laptop again; quickly accessing Endeavors agency database and into her profile, placing a pin on the villain and setting notifications to be sent to her phone. 

With the process over, she looked around her inmediate area, attempting to find her phone. She hadn't had any confirmation in the next few weeks, but she was sure of who could give her the information she wanted, and he was going to help her. 

She scrolled through her phone's contacts looking for his name, once she spotted it, she quickly proceeded to click on his name and placing the phone in her ear. 

Ring 

Ring 

Ri- 

"Hey Birdie, it's kind of late for a call, you ok?" His voice was gentle, you could hear the clear worry. 

She looked up to the clearly visible time in her microwave '3:00 am', she swallowed guiltily, she hadn't even noticed; but she wasn't gonna wait anymore. 

"Hey Keigo, I need something from you" 

[sapphic-agent]

As anti BKDK & anti Bakugou, can I ask why you hate him and Aizawa so much (at least I get it why you dislike Endevour)? Yes, Bakugou was bad at first, but he grew as character. Now, he is one of the best anime/manga character ever. When he 'died', many anti Bakugou overjoyed, but he came back alive !!

Why do you thing Bakugou as a character is so popular (beloved by non shippers and shippers)?

Are you anti BKDK because you dislike mlm shipping?

Thanks for your blog, I don't like to say rude things just because of fandom and fictional characters, but can I ask why you dislike Bakugou so much when he changed so much? Like, his devotion to Midoriya is real and he truly is a hero.

(Hope you don't mind to have follower who is Bakugou fan and BKDK shipper)

I have made a lot of posts about why I hate Bakugou.

It's not because he's a bad person. A bad person can be a great character. Shigaraki is one of my favorite characters in the series. I have a lot of issues with Bakugou as a character, not a person.

A big issue is probably how everyone treats him, especially in comparison to other characters. Bakugou can be as callous and spiteful as he wants and so many characters trip over themselves to praise him. Aizawa (I'll get to him in a second), All Might, and the other teachers don't see fit to correct his behavior, even when he's been violent towards his other classmates (mainly Izuku). Worse, Aizawa outright favors him.

Bakugou punched Izuku during the Final Exam and refused to cooperate. What did Aizawa do? Nothing. He passed him even though he failed Sero, who sacrificed himself to save Mineta. He doesn't even scold Bakugou for this even though he scolded Uraraka and Aoyama during the Training Camps.

Monoma isn't even half as bad as Bakugou. At worst, he gives 1A a hard time occasionally. But 1A absolutely can't stand him. Bakugou's friends- Kirishima and Sero- are Monoma's biggest critics.

Then there's how the narrative bends over backwards to make Bakugou seem like a better person. And why I hate Aizawa is that most of the time it's through him. Bakugou is accused of going too hard on Uraraka? Aizawa scolds the crowd to blatantly tell us- the viewers- that they don't know what they're talking about and that Bakugou respects Uraraka as an opponent.

Which isn't even true. He a) blatantly told Uraraka that she should have given up and b) assumed her plan was Izuku's doing. Aizawa was dead wrong, even though he's supposed to be a way to tell us what's going on. And this isn't even the only time he does this, he also defended Bakugou's behavior to the journalists and said that he would work on improving it.

Except he didn't. But this was a way to, once again, shut down criticism of Bakugou. Everyone who criticizes Bakugou even a little is antagonized to make him look better than he is: the pros at the Sports Festival, the journalists, Monoma, etc.

Izuku is also forced to be a tool to make Bakugou's development look better. He was forced to validate Bakugou's insecurities during Deku vs Kacchan Part 1. We're told, by All Might, that Izuku doesn't hold Bakugou's behavior against him. Even Bakugou's apology was less about Izuku- his victim- and more about making Bakugou look better. Izuku, as one of my favorite characters, deserves better than that.

Also, to me, Bakugou's "change" isn't all that significant. He still does most of the things he did before, it was just changed to be more comedic. Bakugou didn't actually change, he got a character shift to make it easier to redeem him. How can I say he's changed when none of the other characters hold him accountable?

I hate Aizawa because he's a bad teacher and a hypocrite. He's constantly scolding and berating Izuku, but says almost nothing to Bakugou. Accuses All Might of favoritism when he had a whole protege on the side he was trying to get into the hero course. Constantly berates his class for their faults while doing nothing to make them better.

Again, during the Final Exam, he had five other students who failed. Students he could have easily worked with prior to that exam. But he was fine bending over backwards to make sure Bakugou passed. He's a bad teacher that the series tries to make out to be better than he is.

Also, I do NOT hate mlm shipping. Zolu is one of my favorite ships ever. I hate yaoi shippers who feel the need to bash female characters for getting in the way of their ship (or being shipped with a male character in Katara's case). It's blatant misogyny, just because it's gay doesn't mean it's not prejudiced. Uraraka gets treated terribly by BakuDeku shippers, or she's shipped with Tsu or Toga, tucked away in a background sapphic ship where she can't interfere. That's just as bad as bashing her because it's using a sapphic ship as a tool to prop a gay ship.

I don't hate mlm shipping. I hate how some of my favorite characters are treated because of it. There's also an issue with it fetishizing gay men for straight women, but that's another issue entirely.

My hatred for BakuDeku is actually separate from this. It's a ship built off of abuse. The abuse even persists in their platonic relationship, it would absolutely maintain in a romantic relationship. BakuDeku benefits Bakugou and only Bakugou, not Izuku.

I think Bakugou is so well liked because his gimmick of tough and edgy entices a lot of people. He had a lot of fans before he started to get redeemed. And now with his "great" character development, it justifies a lot of people's love for him.

[queenpiranhadon]

A/N: Looks like we gotta put Katsuki in his place…or try to, anyways. Augh @cashmoneyyysstuff is literally my savior hereee ilyyy Here's the masterlist!

Warning(s): Cursing, reader is the daughter of Aizawa, Shinso and Eri are biological siblings, reader is 20 years old, reader befriends Kaminari and Sero, Reader uses "Cattus" as her alias, reader's nicknames are Cactus and Cattus, fight scene between you and Bakugou, really BAD depictions of a fight scene, reader's down bad LMAO, two characters aren't from MHA but are there for the plot, mentions of overexertion, Bakugou challenges you to a fight, a tualia is a type of duel for reference,

Pairing(s): Katsuki Bakugou x Reader

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ꜰᴏᴜʀ: Ten, Again

“Daaaaaaamn Cattus.” Hanta drawls, approaching you once training ended for the day. You hadn’t moved a bit- rooted to where you stood when Bakugou challenged you to a fight.  

“Got a duel on the first day, huh? Against the great ol’ ‘War Dragon’ too.” Denki chimes in, slinging an arm around your shoulder.  

“Was nice knowing you two.” you mumble, regret laced in your tone. You joined the army to avoid trouble, not cause it. 

Denki nods sagely, patting your back in an attempt to console you. “What flowers do you want for your funeral?” 

Hanta rolls his eyes, slinging his arm over your shoulders as well. “Eh, I think Cattus’ll beat the ‘Pissy Lizard’ any day- man's probably got some secret moves he isn’t spilling.” the ravenette says, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.  

You sigh, internally cackling at Hanta’s take on the captain’s nickname, but chose to address the latter statement.  

“I haven’t trained since I was ten though! An entire decade ago!” you groan, and Hanta raises an eyebrow.  

“What’s stopping you from training now then? There’s some dummies we passed a few minutes ago that Moss Bear said was for public use.” 

You blink- how in the world did they know so much about this place and you didn’t? 

You ask them, and Denki just snorts, pulling your wolf’s knot teasingly.  

“You sir, are the King of Moping. You’re too busy lamenting your stay here, and so you don’t appreciate hanging out with your bros” Denki says, sighing dramatically.  

Sero flicks your forehead “And while you were busy off in space, you overhear some things.” 

You groan. Maybe Fern Bat was right. About you, not your father.  

But he wasn’t going to be for long.  

You were going to train as hard as you could to make up for the last 10 years of your life.  

*** 

It was almost midnight when you finally put down the sword, muscles aching, body feverish and drenched with sweat, you worked so hard you felt like you were going to vomit.  

“Shit...” you mutter, letting your sword clatter to the ground, resting your head against the nearby tree.  

You wanted water, and a shower, but you didn’t have that luxury right now. Right now...you had rest, rest was good. Good enough at least. 

Though you were thoroughly exhausted in every meaning of the word, you felt...rejuvenated. Alive, almost.  

You had to admit, you changed a lot in the last week than you had in your entire life, more fierce, more bold, more confident even. You felt...free. Though you loved your family with your entire heart, mind, soul, and being, not having the responsibility to tend to others 24/7 was relieving.  

What wasn’t relieving however was the impending fight you had tomorrow.  

Oh well. 

If you were going down, you wouldn’t make it easy, that’s for sure.  

In the light of the waning moon, you smirk to yourself. 

You were going to remind the so called “War Dragon” that while they grew flowers, cacti still had thorns.  

*** 

You woke up the next morning, early, much to Denki and Hanta’s annoyance, but they understood enough to let you be and give you shit for it later.  

 It’s early enough that no one is awake right now, and so you slip away from the mass of tents and training equipment to find solace in the nearby lake, one you noticed when first arriving here, taking a much-needed wash to cleanse yourself of the dirt, grime and sweat from the previous night. 

It was relaxing and refreshing- exactly what you needed to get yourself in the right mindset for your battle. Icy water laps at your skin, cleansing you from worries and emotions that you couldn’t afford to feel right now. Usually, you would complain and shiver about the temperature of the water you were in- but right now, you felt new. 

Right now, you couldn’t be Y/N.  

Right now, you were Cattus. 

*** 

Thump. 

Thump. 

Thump. 

Your heart beats thrums steadily against your ribcage, like a gong or a rhythmic drum sounding over and over again.  

And across from you, those stupidly pretty ruby eyes. 

You couldn’t be falling for him. 

You couldn’t be falling for him. 

Stupid Pissy Lizard. 

You stare at the Adonis of a man in front of you, finally drinking in his features.  

Chiseled jawline, slim waist, hulking figure. Long eyelashes that housed those eyes you loved so much, and spiky hair that jutted in every direction, similar to the horns and spikes of a dragon. Plush lips that stretched across the smug grin on his face. 

Damn. 

That might be a slight problem. 

“Fight! Fight! Fight!” the soldiers that crowded you chanted, louder and louder, in sync with the beating of your heart.  

You were a warrior.  

With a cry, you lunge forward at the sound of the gong, just as Bakugou does.  

And suddenly, you were ten again.  

You see him move without him moving, noticing the muscles in his right arm clench every so slightly, meaning he would strike your left side.  

Dropping to your knees, you slide underneath the blade, ignoring the pain the friction caused against your knees and kick your legs out to knock him off balance too.  

He stumbles, before whipping back to face you, already on your feet, and preparing to strike for his abdomen.  

“Remember Y/N.” you father had told you. “When facing an opponent who excels in strength, you must beat them in speed.” 

Bakugou was strong, you could give him that. Extremely so, with skills so refined that you could barely find the chinks in his armor. He was fast too. 

You would just have to be faster.  

“Become the wind, embrace it, embody it.” you hear your dad’s voice in your head. “And once you do, overcome it.” 

“Be faster, better, become more than the wind could ever be.” 

Bakugou blocks your strike, but is taken aback at your speed, growling as he used the momentum to push you off him, leaving you skidding against the dirt, yet you maintain your footing, and your stance. 

Sword clash, as you fight tirelessly, the soldier surrounding you watching intently. They didn’t expect you to last this long- neither did Bakugou. Were you actually going to win? 

And yet, in reality, what could a single gust of wind do against a fire breathing dragon? 

Just as you couldn’t win against your father, you couldn’t win against Bakugou.  

But you knew that. 

That wasn’t what you were concerned about. You could hold your own against the captain of an army squadron, and Bakugou knew that. You have proven your point.  

Now, you were just toying with him.  

You felt sluggish, overexerting yourself well beyond your limit at this point- knowing that in these types of challenges, a tualia in specificness, the only way to win was to pin your opponent down for 10 seconds.  

Given his sheer size and strength, you knew that pinning him down for that long would be impossible. You came to terms with that a long time ago. 

Bakugou’s chest heaved, sweat dripping down his neck. He was just as tired as you were, but still royally ticked off. You could see why they called him a dragon now, eyes narrowed in concentration and breathing so heavily smoke could exit his nostrils.  

Running straight at him, you direct yourself as if to collide with him, the latter bracing for impact before you spin around, hooking your foot around him, and causing him to fall on his back.  

Taking the opportunity, you place your forearm on your collarbone, putting as much weight as your could afford at that moment, pinning him down. 

“One...two...three...” you mutter, loud enough that the other soldiers could hear you.  

Holy shit. Was this going to work?  

Bakugou’s breath comes out ragged and labored- he's tired. 

“Four...five..uff!” you cough out as Bakugou suddenly headbutts you and reverses your stance, him now pinning you.  

Shit!

“One...two...three” he starts counting, voice so low and gravelly it sounds almost unhuman.  

He’s not growling now though, he seems subdued almost, like he just wants to get this over with. 

“Four...five...six...seven...” 

You don’t bother squirming, or trying to escape, already sensing your tualia coming to an end. You can’t help but feel butterflies erupt in your stomach from the proximity and you mentally open a cage to stuff them through- you'd deal with those feelings later.   

“Eight...nine...fucking ten.” he groans, getting off of you, and allowing you to finally breathe, relaxing into the ground, but Denki and Hanta help you up anyways, awestruck.  

“You almost beat him!” Denki gushes, giddy with excitement.  

Hanta nods in assent. “I knew I said you might have secret skills, but damn. I don’t think Bakugou’s gone up against anyone who’s still alive to tell the tale.” 

You chuckle dryly, too tired to share their enthusiasm but grateful for it nonetheless. 

“C’mon guys, let’s get back to the tent.” 

Taglist: @andysdrafts @starieq @nemisimp @missa-archdevilme @coquettefoxxy

@032loe @icedemon1314 @fta1ask4 @iam-thevillain-of-thisstory @cuppalevi

@touyasprettydoll @slayfics @yeehawgiddyup13 @notjustanotherextra @frvv

@naoyasbby @sweetblueworm @isentsworld @bkgpackets @moonnm

@bkgrl @satoruyes @eyesforbkg @juicyfingers @aejabba

@noodleryworld @yui-aya @ashiblossom @rv19 @wheezdostuff

@yannvi @liluvtojineteyam @surprisemodafakas @sagejin @kksmush

@cax-per @kit-katsukii

[simp-thingz]

Hi Hi

How about a scenario where Aizawa's daughter takes a hit for him and almost dies?

Thank you for your time!!

Thanks for the request! I'm not sure how I feel about what I wrote but I hope you like it!

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

It was only supposed to be a simple patrol, that's why he brought you along to begin with. He thought it would be safe to finally let you on the field with him. He was wrong. Very, very wrong and it’s probably shaved a good few years off his life as you lay against him in an alleyway, the pool of blood below you only growing larger and staining both his and your own hero suits as he tries to suppress his panic. “Why the hell did you do that?” he asked wincing at the way his voice cracked “I couldn’t let you get hurt” you whispered as the two of waited for backup as “you idiot, It's my job to stop you from getting hurt” he sighed as the sirens got closer “your job as a hero or as my father?” you chuckled only to wince in pain as you did.

Before he could respond an ambulance quickly pulled in blocking the entrance to the alley, your vision narrowing as voices shouted for you to stay awake, to keep your eyes open, to keep living. The first thing that came to you was the smell of antiseptic, quickly followed by the various sounds of the hospital equipment and hushed voices. “The suspect didn’t get very far and is now in police custody” an unfamiliar voice whispered as a much more familiar voice followed it with a tired sigh “that’s good”. The next sense to return, although slowly and almost painfully, was your sight as the overhead lights almost blinded you, the hushed voices now silent. The raspy groan you let out was almost inhuman as the man you could only assume was a police officer hurried out of the room silently.”Water” you rasped attempting to sit up only to be eased back down by familiar hands. “Let me raise the bed,” Aizawa said, the look of relief that flashed on his face quickly and almost unseen as he held down the button almost hidden away on the side of your bed. Once the bed was raised enough for you to drink without spilling you quickly sipped the water ignoring the pain in your throat from the rush of liquid that flooded it as your father chuckled at you. “Am I in trouble?” you asked nervously hoping that his amusement meant you’d be let off the hook “You’re definitely in trouble” he said as if it were obvious and to you, it should’ve been “shit.” you cursed hoping he’d at least ease up on the punishment since you were his favorite child (his only child). But at least you were alive and that was all that mattered to him, and hopefully you’d think twice before throwing yourself into danger (you’d do it again).

[theloganator101]

The Great BNHA Review: Characters or Check Lists?

Oh Characters...

The bread and butter to all stories.

The thing that gets a story from Point A to Point B, the thing that allows us to connect with the story and helps it feel alive. You can pretty much make any character for your story, from the gentle and kindhearted to the more rough around the edges... to making them likable or unlikable. There are many ways to write a character and how they can make your story come to life.

And by bringing this up you know where this is headed... that BNHA utterly failed at expanding their characters into being people we're supposed to care about.

I could make a long fucking list of how BNHA failed every single one of it's characters it introduced but to keep that from happening, I'm just going to either list certain characters or just group them together since some of them share one common thing that's holding them back from being good.

Starting off with!

Shota Aizawa:

He was supposed to a hardass with a hidden heart of gold for his students, but what he ENDED up as was a walking hypocrite who hated Izuku for no other than he was associated with All Might and couldn't control his quirk... and then CONTINUED to give Izuku a hard time and labeled him as the "problem child" like... I don't even have the energy to get mad here, I'm saving THAT for another time in this review.

Oh and then there's him holding up this ridiculously high standard for his students to reach or else he fails them... which is exactly what happened when he failed Sero in the finals but allowed Bakugou to pass for doing the same.

Which again his hypocrisy gets in the way of that!

And not once does he ever get called out or punished for his blantant abuse in power and instead gets complimented and praised for his methods as if he's the next Einstein.

Fucking end me.

The Todoroki Family:

Oh how Hori totally fucked you guys over in the end... Natsu I'd give a pass since he ended on a more believable note, but sadly I can't say the same for Rei and Fuyumi.

As they were never allowed to think bad of the guy that made their lives hell and were instead to jump on the forgiveness train and take Endeavor's side so they can be a "Happy family" again. Which... no, that's literally stockholm syndrome.

Class 1-A:

... (Sighs)

Oh my babies... oh my favorites... look how that monster Hori ruined you all...

He tried to have this found family dynamic for them all, only for it all to fall apart since... you know, they barely interacted at all and got any screentime.

And it also didn't help that Hori had all of them as bystanders to Izuku's suffering, make fun of his interests, and follow Bakugou when he led them to beat him into coming back. So it really doesn't work when you have these things on your mind and fails to convince you that they give a shit about Izuku and his wellbeing.

And the worst part is that they ALL look like they have stories waiting to be told, but we don't get any of that. At most they're only used to fight against the minions while the Cash Cow Triplets fight the big hero.

Every Female Character in this Series:

Oh boy what even is there to talk about? Since they barely have any personality of their own and are only made to be fanservice for the pervs that likes watching anime girls in bikinis. They definitely deserves much better and to be in a story that'll treat them with respect and dignity.

ESPECIALLY to those like Hagakure and Miruko.

All Might:

Oh All Might, how the story did you dirty.

If there's anyone in this story that I feel sorry for the most (That isn't Izuku) It's All Might.

All because of how he started off at the beginning, people clung to the idea that he's a quirkest asshole who Izuku needs to steer clear from... even though he's literally the one to save Izuku from literally living in misery.

All Might deserves to be an actual mentor and father figure for Izuku, not fucking Aizawa who openly expressed his hatred for the boy.

The League of Villains:

I already made a post on how the narrative did them dirty and I don't feel like repeating myself, so I'm just gonna leave a link here while adding this.

What was even the point of building them up to be forgiven by their foils if they were just gonna die in the end? It was all just a big time waster.

And of course, we can't talk about characters and how the author failed them without talking about...

Izuku Midoriya:

Oh Izuku... the most tragic and wasted main character I've ever seen in an anime series.

He started off so strong only to get worse as the series went on. He should've been the shining definition of what a hero SHOULD be! He should've been the one to realize how fucked their world was and strive to change it for the better and to prevent others like him from suffering like he did.

But... we didn't get any of that.

We don't get acknowledgment of his past, we don't get him rising from his pain and become something more. Instead we get a watered down version of him at the beginning who has NO reaction or introspection to anything whatsoever, not to the world they live in, to the way things are handled, and even to him losing OFA.

For some odd fucking reason, Izuku is never allowed to grow out "I'm worthless" mindset or realization that everyone in his life has failed him in one way or another. He just praises it all like the fanboy he is and just stays where he is.

And then there's the fact that he just flat out refuses to ever acknowledge his past in any meaningful way, as whenever he DOES bring it up, he talks about his past self as if he's a different person from him. To which I can kinda see how this could be symbolic of something... But it just doesn't work as it only makes him look horrible for forgetting his roots and just wanting to fit in with the other people with quirks. To which it somewhat feels like "Fuck the quirkless they're useless so why even focus on them?"

He's a hollow version of the idea of his character, just blankly reacting to things in front of him and praising Bakugou for being the best thing to come around. He honestly deserves better and deserves to be with a writer that won't bully him and give him the depth and development he needs.

Now who else am I missing...?

...

Oh yeah!

Katsuki Bakugou is still trash.

Look forward to the next part.

(Roundabout starts playing)

[sugarlywhispers]

☆–a.n; @hitoshisbf MOOTIE, I GOTCHUU♡ tho, idk if this is the turn you were looking for with his, but i hope at least satiates a bit of your need ;) also, i haven't written this fast anything LOOOL idk, i'm living for the angsty fics lately♡

☆–warnings; angst, alcohol consumption, a bit of smut in one paragraph lol, and of course swearing, because Shinsou is as bad as Bakugou.

Shinsou Hitoshi is not a man that shows his feelings openly. 

Everybody knows that.

So it isn’t a surprise when he returns to the agency from that hell of a fight, face blank, void of any emotion, eyes looking sleepy and tired like they always do. But there is something. Something about the way he is walking, the way he is breathing, or maybe call it his aura, that makes everyone flinch as he walks from the entrance directly towards the elevator.

From all the eyes he knows and feels looking at him, he strongly feels yours. He knows he shouldn’t close on himself and not seek help when he perfectly knows this is a moment to seek for help. For you.

But he can’t avoid it.

The guilt.

Another partner lost.

Another person died in his care.

More than one.

He is 32 years old and apparently he can’t take care of a sidekick half his age, who is already an adult, but still a baby in this profession. This fucking profession of being a hero. How many have already gone? How many have lost their lives because he wasn’t fast enough, strong enough, or even smart enough? How. Fucking. Many.

Hitoshi sighs when he’s in front of the door to his office, not really knowing how he got there; and when he enters and then turns to close it, he encounters the eyes of Midoriya Izuku who looks at him, worried and pitiful.

“It wasn’t your fault, Hitoshi,” Midoriya’s words feel more like a dagger stuck deep in his guts than the comfort he tries to give.

“How many, Midoriya… How many.”

And with that he closes the door and locks it. He doesn’t wait for his co-worker and friend's response. Hitoshi doesn’t need it. He knows it.

After throwing some of his equipment over the small couch he has in the middle of his office, Shinsou walks directly towards one of his furniture where he hides it. Alcohol. Rum, to be exact. He discovered –after a situation similar to this one– that the only thing that gives him a bit of comfort is the burn of the liquor going down his throat. He hates it, he loathes it completely. But he loves how the painful burning turns off his senses and closes down his gullet as the liquid slides inside his system. His ability to speak turns off, just as his consciousness.

He gulps down glass after glass after glass. He doesn’t care that he’s at work and by all ethics he shouldn’t be doing this here. But he doesn’t fucking care anymore.

He doesn’t care that once again one of his co-workers and two of his sidekicks died right in front of his eyes.

He doesn’t care that even if he got there a tad bit sooner, they could still be alive, he could have saved them.

He doesn’t care that it was his fault, because he got distracted from trying to follow one of those villains and didn’t stay to help his team.

But he does care. It is his fault. Everything.

Glass after glass after glass of rum, and he already feels the rise in temperature and the dizziness in his body. But he doesn’t care. He deserves feeling like this… This helpless and useless, because that’s what he is. A fucking useless piece of shit. Not even good at his own job. What would Aizawa say? Dad would agree with Shinsou. He’s just a fucking nuisance. He has been for everybody since his very first day at UA.

The rumble of knocks on his office’s door makes him groan. He doesn’t move, whomever it is should know already that he’s not going to fucking answer the door.

“Shinsou, it’s me,” your muffled voice sounds and he curses Midoriya’s name. He knows it was him who sent you. He always did whenever Hitoshi traveled down to the most inner dark places of his own mind.

He can’t not open the door to you. You are and will always be the exception to any rule. You come before anything and everyone, even his own misery. But, he had drank so much he realizes now he can't move his legs as he tries to stand up from his chair behind his desk. His arms and legs feel like gum, uncontrollable and useless gum, and he doesn't have the strength to even throw the keys closer to the door so you can grab them from under it and get yourself in. He knows, he had tried it, just now. Unfortunately, he just knocked a decorative vessel that sat at the corner of his own desk. What a shame, you have gifted him that from one of your trip missions.

“Hitoshi, what was that? Please, please, let me in,” your begging voice is something that stir so many emotions inside him.

He likes to hear it when he’s on top of you, buried so deep inside you that you beg for him. More, fast, harder, deeper. He loves it, to drive you that insane that only him can give you what you need.

Now, it sounds so desperate and sad, he hates being the reason too behind that begging.

It doesn’t pass too much time until the door is forced open. He regrets having locked it when he looks up and you’re there, standing with all that worry and fear in your eyes as your chest pushes up and down in puffs of air that you inhale. Oh. You forced it on your own. He feels proud of you. You have grown so much. So strong and so dependable.

He remembers when he met you, a small thing of eighteen years old, filled with dreams and hopes, that had just joined Hero Deku’s agency, where he also worked too. You had also been his sidekick for a while, before everyone –Hitoshi included– recognized your strength and power and by your twenty one years old you already had sidekicks helping you on your missions.

He was so proud and mesmerized by the person and hero you have become, he couldn’t help it. He couldn’t help to feel things for you.

Your first kiss happened on your twenty-fifth birthday. Izuku had the idea to throw a surprise party after you came back from a mission in Osaka that day. Hitoshi would never forget the shine in your eyes when you entered the conference room, turned on the lights and everyone jumped yelling “happy birthday, Y/N!!” in greeting. You almost cried, and Hitoshi found that cute.

Shinsou was also known for liking his own space, so it didn’t take you long to finally find him at the balcony, alone and smoking his cigarette.

“You know, that thing kills you,” you closed the door of the balcony before walking and standing next to him.

He smiled, a genuine one, before saying, “Our work can kill us, did you know that?”

You rolled your eyes at him, softly pushing him with your shoulder, which made him laugh.

“Thanks for being here, Shinsou-san.”

“Ugh. Drop the honorifics already. Makes me feel old,” this time you laughed, and he took that as a queue to take out the little box he brought for you.

“What is this?” You asked receiving the little box.

“The villain’s teeth of my last fight,” you look up at him, not really amused and he snorts, “It’s your present, dumbass.”

“Couldn’t you just say that?” You protested, clearly exasperated by his jokes, which made him even fall for you more.

Hitoshi takes another drag of his cigarette as you open the box. It’s a necklace, not a very expensive one, with a pendant that has the form of a moon. To others, it might not mean shit, and maybe they would comment on how cheap the present looks. But to both of you, it had a significance. It signified all that time you spent together, patrolling and wandering the streets at night when you were his sidekick, given that both of your Quirks worked better at night.

You’re silent for a bit, and that silence worried him for a second. Then he saw the little droplets of your tears on the railing of the balcony where you are standing close to, and he sighed, throwing the cigarette to the ground and stepping on it to turn it off.

“You’re not supposed to cry, dummy,” his hands grabbed your face and he softly tilted your head back so he could look at your face better.

He saw the tears running down your cheeks, but your eyes looked genuinely happy. Fuck, you're gorgeous, inside out.

“It’s my birthday, I can do whatever I want,” you replied back, your beautiful dove eyes not leaving his.

“That you can.” He said almost in a whisper, his eyes darting down to your lips for a second. And when he looked back at your eyes, he saw the realization in them.

“I… Can I?” He saw your eyes do the same action he did before, and fuck, yes please.

“You can.”

You stood suddenly in your tiptoes and finally connected your lips together. One of his hands slid to the back of your head as the other went down and his arm surrounded your waist, pulling you against him even closer, lips firm against each other.

Shinsou had felt on cloud nine. He still does every time you kiss him. Every time he wakes up and sees you there laying next to him, all cutesy with your sleepy-puffy face and all. Every time you come back to him, even when he told you many times before that he isn't worth it.

He doesn’t deserve you. And you deserve so much better.

“Why did you lock the door?” Your voice sounds angry, but also worried.

Hitoshi looks down again to his desk where he finds the bottle of rum almost finished. Wow. How much time has passed since he got here? The dizziness and the constant burning in his throat doesn’t let him think straight, or do the maths. So he immediately disposed of that thought. He won’t be able to find the answer either way. But he can tell that, by your worried expression, it’s been long. I mean, the almost empty bottle in front of him says much too.

“Shinsou,” you call him again. And by his surname, which means you are angry too.

“Isn’t it obvious?” he asks in a murmur, his voice sounding so rough and deep he barely recognizes it like his own.

He then feels hands, small delicate hands, that hold his face and turn him to the side. They feel so soft, so sweet as the thumbs caress his cheeks that he closes his eyes, feeling that knot in his throat so tight is about to explode and make him bleed til he dies.

Hitoshi takes a faltering breath as he feels your forehead press against his.

“Let’s go home, love,” your gentle voice says and he feels like crying now.

But he nods and lets you help him up.

You’re his home. So he will go anywhere with you.

When Hitoshi wakes up the next day, he feels like a truck ran over him. Bones and all heavy, his head pulsing with pain that makes him want to vomit.

He remembers vaguely what happened. And he remembers you dragging his stupid and sorry-sad ass to the apartment. With Izuku. Midoriya helped you bring him home. How embarrassing.

Hitoshi finds the strength to sit on his bed, after seeing that your side of the bed is empty. That’s weird, but it doesn’t surprise him. It is just time you finally see the scum and worthless ass he is.

He rests his elbows on his knees, holding his head with his hands. It hurts, realizing that he lost you. Hurts more than anything. How fucking hypocrite of him. Yesterday, he was moping about the death of his team members, swearing that what he felt was pain. Nothing compares to what he’s feeling now.

The tears slide through his face before he has a chance to stop them.

He never deserved you. He doesn’t even deserve to be called a Hero.

He feels like a fucking loser.

“Hitoshi?”

Your voice makes him look up instantly. And in two long strides you’re kneeling on the floor in front of him, arms around his neck.

He immediately returns the hug. And cries. Like a fucking child.

But this is you, he can do this with you. He can be vulnerable with you.

“You stayed.” He cries, feeling like a wounded animal that needs help.

But somehow, he is. Wounded. In pain. And you’re his savior, what he needs to heal.

“I’m always going to be here, love. I choose you, and I will always do.”

The fingers of one of your hands slides in his hair as his whole body shakes in his cries.

“You have to stop doing this. Nothing that happened was your fault, and if you don’t believe yourself, believe me.” You back away from him just a bit so you can look into his eyes. “Believe me when I say that it was not your fault. And believe me when I say that it’s time you stop this behavior.” He knows you’re talking about his drinking habit from this past months.

“I choose you, but you have to choose me. Or… I don’t think I’m going to want to stay here to see you lose yourself. It hurts me too much, Hitoshi.”

That gets his attention completely.

No. He can't lose you. He won’t lose you. No. No. No.

You're the one crying now, and he’s the one that pulls you up so you straddle his waist and hold your face very close to his.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I won’t… I’ll be good, I’ll be better for you, I promise.” He chants like a prayer as he kisses every part of your face as he can.

You shake your head, “No. Be good for you, be better for you. Because you deserve it. You deserve to be happy, Hitoshi.”

He doesn’t believe it. Not yet anyway.

But he believes you. He loves you. And if to cherish you how you deserve means he has to believe he’s good, he will.

He will be good for you. And with time, for himself too.

[the-copycat-hero]

more Monoma headcanons, but specifically post-final battle

after the war, Monoma's classmates occasionally notice him staring for long stretches without blinking. sometimes, he's doing it on purpose - practice for if he's ever tagged into a conflict with Erasure again. other times, he doesn't even realize he's doing it - it's simply a reflex after spending hours during the final battle knowing that, if he blinked, millions would die.

Monoma is actually called in to help Aizawa with Erasure periodically as is, so he also starts carrying around some eyedrops. (they have come in handy much more often than you'd think)

during his second year at UA, Monoma is "heavily encouraged" to leave class early on Mondays and Thursdays so that he can speak to Hound Dog. he doesn't take the opportunity very often - he prefers setting up appointments discretely, before or after formal school hours - but there have been a few times where he's had to duck out.

Monoma was virtually blind for the first few weeks following the final battle due to (1) overuse of Erasure, and (2) the fact that he stared directly at a ton of flashing lights; his sight has mostly recovered, but he now requires a low prescription pair of glasses or contacts when at school or doing hero work.

Copy was also stunted for a few weeks after the war (i.e. Monoma could only copy quirks if he maintained constant contact with his target), but once it recovered, his copying time went up to 15 minutes. (he figures that the mass amount of stress forced the mini power-up, but he hasn't looked into it too hard.)

Monoma's immediate priority once he returns to training is to start working on the ability to use two quirks at once. this is largely because he believes that, had he been able to erase Shigaraki's quirks and open a portal for Midoriya at the same time, he may have been able to prevent a lot of the carnage that he witnessed.

sometimes, when he gets the inexplicable urge to check that Bakugo is actually alive, Monoma will demand to copy Explosion and then grab onto Bakugo's wrist so he can check his pulse; Bakugo knows damn well what Monoma is doing, but he tolerates it because Aizawa told him how badly his death fucked with the copycat.

[pinkdogplushie]

The ending of My Hero Academia was good, but flawed

And it was not so much disappointing as it was unsatisfying

I think its main flaw is that it tried to wrap up all plot threads except Izuku's. Everyone finds closure, achieves their dreams and finds new goals in life, but Izuku never does: he 'lets go' of the OfA embers, which on itself is not a bad move, except that he does it at graduation, and we never see him even try to be a hero without his powers. This goes against what the entire manga has been trying to say from the beginning, that a hero doesn't need powers to be heroic, only the instinct to save and protect; and yet, when "the greatest hero of all time" didn't have his powers anymore, he never even got the chance to be on the field. He was only able to rejoin through a mechanical suit 8 years after graduation.

Now, again, this on itself isn't a bad narrative move. Given the ending's emphasis on being realistic over being idealistic, you could have Izuku be faced with discrimination against being a Quirkless hero and eventually having to become a teacher to have any work at all. You could show him try to make the best out of his lot in life and yet still be bitter that the world is not ready for a Quirkless hero despite all he has done. You could have him be inspired to help someone else become the Quirkless hero he wants to see in the world and vowing to keep his fight even after returning to the fray of active hero duty.

But none of that happens. Izuku just seems content with not having powers anymore and not being able to perform in the field he sacrificed so much to join. You could say he mourned the loss of his powers and came to terms with his new reality over the 8-year time skip, but it would have been nice to actually see that. He doesn't seem to be even fighting for a cause anymore, not like his classmates are. Shoji is working on peaceful resolutions to conflicts, Uraraka and others are working on providing proper Quirk education, and Izuku... is just a teacher. His sole moment of inspiring someone else is a random encounter with a hero hopeful with a 'weak Quirk' who nevertheless has a better chance of becoming a hero than Izuku himself has. After being portrayed as a force for change throughout the entire manga, Izuku has become stagnant, complacent and seemingly resigned to his fate.

In short, Horikoshi did him dirty.

Now, not everything about the ending was bad. Yes, Mineta is shown to have become a hero despite seemingly never changing as a person, but Shinsou and Aoyama become heroes after all their struggles. Yes, Ochako lost Toga and didn't end up with Izuku, but she has clearly grown as a person, is working to save kids from going off the deep end because of Quirk discrimination, and probably has moved on from her high school crush. Yes, Endeavor is unfortunately still alive, but his children have made it clear they don't forgive him just because he's really regretful, he's out of the field for good and Shouto is respected as a hero in his own right. Crime rates are going down not because there are more heroes, but because heroes are going after the roots of villainy rather than just fighting the symptoms.

So yeah, the MHA manga ending isn't bad.

It just could have been better.

...And that's why I decided to write my own ending.

I present to you, my Epilogue Arc AU:

Aoyama rejoins Class 2-A after 6 months of self-reflection and individual Quirk training when Mineta is expelled in the middle of their second school year due to Aizawa realizing the guy is still a pervert even after surviving a war. Oboro is also returned to life, just with his old Quirk severely modified. Additionally, UA decides to keep the dorm system even after the danger of All for One has passed. 

The constant companionship and support of his friends convinces Izuku to be selfish for once in his life and keep his embers alive past graduation so he can be a hero by his classmates' side, like he has done all this time. He manages to work full-time as a hero for four years, during which he prepares himself for the eventual disappearance of his powers. He mourns the loss of One for All and starts fighting to become a Quirkless hero, but Hawks tells him that unfortunately Japan is not ready to accept one yet, no matter how much Izuku's fought. After reaching a low point, talking with Yagi and Aizawa gives him the strength to keep fighting to make Quirkless heroes a reality one day.

One day, he receives a call from his agency's doctor, who had been helping him manage his diminishing powers. Research conducted during his brief stint as a full-time Pro Hero reveals that, while One for All is gone, Izuku's DNA was irreversibly altered by its presence, which was necessary for it to be transferred from holder to holder. Because of this, he has a simple Quirk with the potential to hold and manage astounding amounts of raw power, which Yagi apparently also has but was unable to notice due to One for All's overwhelming presence and the need for secrecy in regards to it. Izuku decides to name his Quirk Stockpile.

Stockpile is a combination of Yoichi's original transference quirk and the stockpiling one he got from his brother, and behaves like a normal Quirk: it can't host Vestiges nor pass on extra Quirks, and it can only be 'transferred' and combine with others' Quirks through reproduction. Nevertheless, Izuku is not able to use it like he did One for All, only being able to generate very brief flashes of energy throughout his body that don't last long enough to enhance his natural strength and speed, much like what happened with Yagi after losing his embers.

Izuku is amazed at how much technology has advanced to allow for this discovery and happy to know that, in the end, One for All was always meant to become his own Quirk. But he still wants to semi-retire, unwilling to start experimenting with his body or take a new prescribed form of Trigger in order to turn a spark into a flame. He decides to become a teacher at UA, aiming to inspire future generations to become heroes regardless of their Quirks or lack thereof.

Four years after his unofficial retirement, Izuku gets a gift from Yagi, his mother and the rest of 1-A. Thanks to the data gathered through the Armored All Might suit and with the help of Eri's Rewind, Hatsume Mei has created a suit that kickstarts and enhances Izuku's Quirk, restoring his strength and speed to near their original levels without compromising his health. This opens the possibility that Stockpile could return to full power on its own if it's 'jogged' regularly. However, Izuku realizes he is satisfied with his life as it is now, even if he never becomes as powerful as he was in high school again. For now, he is content to return to active hero duty while still being a teacher, and continue bettering society alongside his friends and fellow heroes.

[ms0milk]

𝟏 | 𝐀 𝐖𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐖𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐚 𝐓𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐓𝐫𝐢𝐩

ー✧ prince!bakugou x royal guard!reader

"The prince meets you with a ferocity that probably stops people’s hearts and with his mother’s halo of silvery hair and decisive eyes, it’s lovely enough to stop yours too."

no cw big time fairytale castle, blunt bkg & silly co. reader's a lil stiff bc character arcs aren't built in a day, let the slowburn begin. i am not immune to aizawa in any universe. author does not attempt to hide how very badly she wants to ******* *** **** bkg's mama. 3.8k

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Waking up is so peaceful this morning. Gentle and warm.

"..…"

That sweet kind of rise between waking and dreaming, where you’re able to say goodbye to your dreams and the people in them with a tip of your hat and wave goodbye. Forgiving and patient.

“..Y/n…”

The queen was in your dreams tonight. And you were in your hometown– you’re there now. The fields are golden and heavy before autumn harvest and your neighbors have no need for locks on their doors. She is beautiful today, and she is your sister, your mother, your Lady when you try to look past the sun’s rays to her face. Up, up, up into her eyes, why can’t you find what you’re looking for? Higher and higher until it’s the stars you’re on your knees for.

“Y/n.”

You jolt at the sudden sensation of falling with a quick and panicked grip on your pillow but you’re back in your room, stuffed mattress and all. Every part of your body is grounded to woolen blankets and the weight at your feet. Someone laughs at the foot of your bed when you sigh in relief and you jump again, because this time it’s the queen.

“I’m sorry to wake you.” She smiles behind her hand. You’re staring. And then it’s been a second too long before you gather yourself like a member of the castle with some respect and make a move to stand for formal greetings. But you only get as far as sitting up when she stiffs her palm to your forehead. “Stay.”

From your spot still tucked in bed you muster a, “Yes, your Majesty.”

The queen’s hair is wild and silvery by the light of a candle she holds at her chest. The only light in the room. Heavy fur cape clasps fit neatly into the bodice of her nightgown– gown almost isn't the right word. You love her. There isn’t a citizen alive that doesn’t love her, “I have a question for you, Y/n.”

“Anything, Majesty.”

What time is it? Your curtain is drawn, but still there doesn’t seem to be any morning light trying to peek through.

“My son’s been invited east to celebrate a new observatory.” The queen pulls a once-neatly-wrapped envelope from her pocket, “The end of some momentous constructional undertaking or another,” she laughs. She extends her hand to you and smiles at just how dumbstruck you still seem to be by candlelight, “I’m sorry it’s so early.”

“Not at all.” You move too quickly and too slowly somehow– you curse yourself– while taking it from her, and regret what a silly child you must look like the way she has you perched against your pillows.

“I just received word from a Takoban messenger. A letter from their queen.” You nod, turn the letter over in your hands until it falls open. “He’s leaving today and I would very much like you to accompany him.”

Your apartments on Castle Southside are suddenly less like one modest room and more like the very stables you live above, wholly unfit for her. She’s still smiling at you. You’re still tucked-in. “Majesty, me?”

“If you wouldn’t mind.”

“Of course not. But wouldn’t– shouldn’t Master Jeanist go?”

“Jeanist stays with me.” And you realize in horror– too many emotions for one woman to manifest only minutes after waking up– that you implied the queen may have made a mistake. “Don’t apologize,” she catches you before you can open your sleep-addled mouth again, “Captain of the Guard stays here. But you’ve trained with Jeanist for years Y/n, you’ll be my son’s captain soon.” She scoots closer to you. She takes your hand, “Can I trust you with this mission?”

It's fuzzy, hearth warmth and happiness when she uses your name, “With anything.”

Queen Mitsuki handed over one more letter before leaving you to prepare for your morning. Just a thank you card, she’d said. For you to deliver to the eastern queen, the Queen of Takoba.

As long as she asks you might do anything, although spending the most time with Jeanist meant nothing by way of his successor. The next monarch will choose his own captain. Spending the most time with Jeanist only means that you haven't given great priority to making your own friends.

The click of your heels down the stone hallway line up with another’s as you round the corner to your station. A tree today. Trees and wildlife grow freely in the Bakugous’ Aldera Castle and make the palace warm even in the grip of winter. Knobbly trunks and grasping vines twist in and out of windows, fruit rolls down the halls in fall. Squirrels and birds get in so regularly that members of the guard each have one shift a week exclusively for hoisting the creatures back out.

Fresh air is never far away. In the springtime you are all tasked with sweeping blossoms off the castle floors before they wither or trip a staff, and from the very second the first magnolia blooms in March you’re swimming in flowers til June.

Jeanist stands under the lichen of Castle Southside’s oak tree when you arrive, and the soldier he was speaking to has already strode away. Tall, black hair.

The oak tree is four stories tall to have arms reaching this far inside and is older than any historian could recall. It is precious family. It reaches up and over the banister at the edge of the hallway and dips down into the library like a leafy chandelier, causing much headache in autumn when Aldera's tallest ladder is procured for the poor novice whose job it is to clean the books underneath.

“Good morning, Y/n.”

“Sir.”

Jeanist only smiles under the high collar of his red uniform. You rarely get the chance to stand beside your mentor anymore, now that the prince needs only a senior guard on diplomatic errands. Your uniforms were meant to stand together just like this– warm next to each other. Yours are the only two of their kind and your mentor made these himself, blood red gambeson and white bone clasps. You assume your position beside the tree and stare dead ahead, happy, if only for a second, if only on the inside, to belong once again to this group of two.

“Y/n?”

“Sir.” You don’t break eye contact with the far wall. Dawn is dim on the fifth floor of Southside. All you have here to entertain yourself is a tapestry you’ve memorized every stitch of, until another soldier comes to relieve you.

“Did you speak with the Queen?”

“Yes, sir. Early this morning.”

“Earlier than dawn?” Jeanist chuckles and turns to gaze out the window through the ancient knots of the oak tree. The sun crests the mountains somewhere farther than you’ve ever traveled and spills into the folds of his uniform. It warms the back of your head. “What did you tell her?”

“That I would be honored to comply with Her Majesty's request.”

“And how do you feel?”

“Privileged, sir.”

“Y/n." Your eyes tug at your periphery, confused by the general chattiness of the old guard this morning, “I’m proud of you.”

Your head turns fully at this, in surprise and without your permission, and you realize it hasn’t yet struck you to ask why he’s at your post in the first place.

“Go on.” He’s looking at you too now, as he has been the whole time, “They’ll leave without you at this rate.”

You stare for another two seconds at this strange mentor of yours. You try to keep your heart from spilling onto the floor is actually what you do; it’s all you can manage. “Yes, sir.”

If anything you’ll be the first of the entire party to arrive in the Great Hall, but you still let Jeanist assume your position and even turn in surprise again when he rests a hand on your shoulder. He taps one of your small earrings with a gentle finger and with his other hand unclasps the dragontooth brooch from his breast.

“How long did you stare when the queen spoke with you this morning?”

Ears go hot immediately under his knowing gaze, but he only smiles. He pulls your hand forward and rests the dragontooth in your palm with an amount of pressure that can only mean, be careful. And so you will, you determine, and turn to make your way to collect your things.

“Word of advice!” In a neverending morning of spinning, you drag your foot and face him again. Jeanist is nearly laughing and trying very well to hide his worry, “If you stare at the prince the way you have the tendency to do, he might just take your head off.”

He doesn’t get to see you smile often, but it does feel fitting now for you to nod your goodbye to him with the look of yours he loves so much, “He might try, sir."

It didn’t take more than a few months in the castle, at six years old, for the prince to rectify his opinion of you. To clarify his disdain in the event that his mother’s favoritism towards the orphan gave anyone the wrong idea about his own priorities. You could hardly say it mattered. Hundreds of new faces fill the castle every year and he had forgotten yours just as quickly as you had been whisked into Jeanist’s care to begin your training and earn your keep.

Today your satchel is packed, your hair’s braided back, and the prince thinks no more or less of you than he always has. Indifference will make your job easy.

The whole sprawling maze of stone buildings warm in the morning sun as you make your way to Castle Northside, although autumn is here and soon heavy curtains will need to be draped over windows and trees. Soon too, it’ll be time to sweep fallen leaves out of the hallway and collect ripe peaches from the branches of the western stairwell. You’ll need to have your winter uniform cleaned when you return so the white fur of the collar glows, because when the queen happens to see you on duty she always remarks on how well you care for her colors.

Even your earrings– tiny suns, gold and dangling– represent your love for Aldera down to the smallest detail. They were a gift, and you swell when her eyes jump from one carefully polished detail on your body to the next. To Jeanist, she is personification of meticulous craft. You know that’s why he loves her. Each hulking winter cape in her collection drops her into the background of some priceless painting or ethereal scene and for this reason alone, winter is your favorite season.

Sometimes in cold weather, when she sneaks to the kitchen in the middle of the night, Her Majesty wears battle gauntlets to stay warm and is altogether too Alderan in delicate furs and armored gloves.

It is just at this moment of routine admiration that, out of an auxiliary hallway to the kitchen, saunters a tall boy you’ve never seen before wearing the white soldier’s greaves. He's hardly dressed, greaves aside, all loose undershirt and lazy stride. He knows your name and he calls to you as he approaches.

“Yes soldier?”

His limbs are knobbly and his mouth hitches uncomfortably upwards when he finally gets close enough to you to speak, “Hanta ma'am, Sero Hanta.” Tall and disrespectful. “Master Jeanist sent me to fetch your halberd from the smithy but when I came back–”

“I don’t keep my halberd in the smithy.”

He shifts his weight between two legs too long for his greaves like he has somewhere else to be, “Whoever’s it is, Kirishima has it now and we’ve all been searching Southside like madmen trying to fin–”

“Who–” You shake your head and turn to face him fully now, “Why does the master–”

“Sero! Oh my everloving gods you found her!” Another boy, quite blond, scrambles out of a different hallway– oh, he’s tripping on the decorative runner– out of breath to the soldier’s side. “Kirishima–”

“You found her!” One last voice shrills over the banister of the hallway above. This one belongs to a lithe pink girl and she hops the last five stairs to land at your side, “Don’t you look nice today Miss Guard.”

“Excuse me?”

She addresses her companions instead, “Where’s Kirishima?”

You have half a mind to take the closest person by the arm and hold them for questioning. How have they gotten so far into the center of the castle unaccompanied? To whom do they belong? “Identify yourselves.”

“No time for that,” Soldier Sero snaps and links a hand under each of his companions’ arms, “We’ll parse out introductions once we’re not all about to be hanged.” Without direction or permission, the three of them are down the last stretch of hall quicker than north wind through bare branches and great iron doors scream open.

You’ve walked the Hall ten thousand times and so the gold trim, the fireplace and both it's stories, the sappy scent of pine, and the rows of tables long enough to seat whole families of dragons, only bring tears to your eyes on occasion. The floor is cobbled with river stones that catch fruit and nuts in their grooves but glow a molten-glass purple when the sun comes in through windows. It gets warm, too warm, when it’s full of staff at mealtimes so you take your dinners elsewhere. It’s too stuffy. You’ve never managed large crowds in tight spaces so times like these are precious, when it’s empty before breakfast and still clean from the night's housekeeping.

Except it’s not empty now, is it? There are three fools and two brand new strangers loitering in front of the fireplace at the other end of the room, just waiting for you to call for reinforcements. Sero begins to take off his pants–

“Soldier!” You shout down the Hall almost as quickly as you cross it.

“Good morning,” an altogether new voice pools between your exclamations.

Of the five people in the empty room, two of them obviously belong someplace very far away. Somewhere unkind. Blue tunics and windswept hair. You slow your warpath and try to take in the details of the two new men that Aldera's three fugitives have approached without an ounce of concern or respect for personal space.

The younger of the pair repels hair ruffles and claps on the shoulder from your three trespassers while the taller man, worn and travel-sallow, peers over the bustle to you.

His eye contact doesn't match the way he holds his exhausted body. It is this one part of him that threatens, surely only in your own tired mind, sudden and practiced violence. You move closer.

“I am Master Aizawa."

When he blinks the threat vanishes and you buckle a bit in the whiplash from danger to gentle authority. You are unarmed for a second– suddenly a schoolgirl again, pitied by her teacher in a classroom full of people who haven't learned to talk to child soldiers.

"Your party will be under my protection and instruction beginning today.” Disarming eye contact aside, Master Aizawa, this fourth stranger of the morning, looks as if he could barely be trusted to remain upright on a sunny day, let alone manage other people. “This young man is Hitoshi Shinsou,” he tips his chin to the boy trying to stand tall beside him, still speaking only to you over the chittering crowd, “my apprentice and your second in command.”

Windswept, violent, exhausted, trespassers, guests, useful, useless– these people do not matter. You are meant to be waiting for the prince and his convoy not chasing strangers in circles around the castle, when a much worse thought comes clear to center focus. In your rush this morning it hadn’t occurred to you that this group of people might share your objective. The iron doors grunt open again in your confusion but louder than the doors are the people walking through them.

“Oh amazing, you found her!”

“I could hear you horrible fucks all the way from the courtyard.”

Your blood doesn’t rush properly for a second most likely because your heart has stopped pumping it out. The prince. You square your body to the back wall immediately and bow with fists at your side, trying to bury the incorrigible urge to stare.

Even from half a Hall away it is palpable, the tremendous confidence that swells to every corner of a room when he enters. He wears an Alderan vest lined with furs and you know the clasps at his neck are gold because the queen wouldn’t settle for less. The red cape they grip sweeps in an arc as he navigates tables, and walking duly tall beside him is the prince's champion, Kirishima, who holds a polearm in one hand while waving to the group with the other.

The two familiar faces put you at a strange kind of ease. Kirishima is a joyful addition to the castle, always smiles for staff in passing, and the prince– the prince is taller now. It’s been years since you’ve stood near him properly. Castle staff are meant to bow their heads when a royal approaches. You’re fairly familiar with the details of his boots but not much else.

“Good morning, Highness,” Master Aizawa is the first to reply and his voice simmers just above a growl. You raise your head so that you’re standing tall when the prince finishes his march to the group but you’re too practiced in looking away to keep your eyes up for long.

“Long time no see old man.”

“Ready?”

“Let’s get this over with.” The prince doesn’t offer you a glance, not even a blink, before he’s tossing a rucksack from the man’s outstretched arm over his shoulder.

Soldier Sero calls after him, “You clean up nice,” and lifts his arm to give the prince a playful swat, but you’re already holding his wrist behind his back and he’s standing on tall tippy toes to keep the pressure in his knobby elbow from breaking it. The prince squares himself to the yelping and now he’s looking at you.

“S-sorry Y/n! Friendly fire.”

You drop Sero’s arm and try to speak– it's your only chance for appropriate introduction– but the prince meets you with a ferocity that probably stops people’s hearts and with his mother’s halo of silvery hair and decisive eyes, it’s lovely enough to stop yours too. His coalfire gaze is quick and flickering. Like he hopes to avoid looking at you altogether. You try to speak even less successfully than the last time, to wet your lips, try to make a sound, but he’s already rolling his eyes and ushering the two blue guards towards the door.

“I don’t need a fuckin’ babysitter. The rest of you, hurry up.”

They do. The prince, two escorts, and three guests are back out the iron doors without so much as a greeting, explanation, or itinerary. You stand next to the cold fireplace, still half bowed in greeting.

As the Great Hall stills, empty now except for Kirishima, the redhead sidles closer in the quiet. He watches you excitedly, as you exhale and adjust the travel bag at your hip, eager to present you with the weapon he’s been carrying.

“Mornin’, I think this is from Jeanist?" He chirps and twitters with a smile and precisely no clue what it is he’s handed to you. He’s straightforward and confident and warm.

It’s been a long time since a day so new has been so active. Since dawn, nothing but one heart palpitation after the next. One pair of red eyes to the next. The prince’s red burns your vision like sunspots, Aizawa's turn grapes to wine, but Kirishima’s is patient. You’re slow to remove your gloves before handling the weapon and take it from the champion who vibrates in the new quiet. He is not particularly good at standing still.

Shifting in your hands is a halberd. Its balance is even and it’s not the cherrywood weapon you’re familiar with, the one that’s hopefully still hanging up in its slot in the Keep. This weapon is a deep blood red from shaft to socket. You nod your head without taking your eyes off the shimmer of the metal polished so fine it's turned white, and on any other day there might be tears in your eyes.

Kirishima is still smiling as you fiddle with the rivets, “You have lovely taste, it’s beautiful.”

“It’s not mine,” you whisper, because it’s Master Jeanist’s.

Outside of the castle gates, a particularly dazzling blue carriage is waiting, pulled by a team of white horses. You squint at the three fools wrestling with each other next to a quilted door of the most delicate vehicle you’ve ever seen. Like something out of a storybook, like something built by fairies. The prince tiffs with a less-than-interested Master Aizawa in the grass a ways off and taps his foot angrily just like his mother.

“Are you the Alderan escort?” Shinsou, the spitting image of apathy, appears between you and Kirishima as you trek the stone path to join the party. He hands you each a sizable knapsack.

You nod, “Y/n, apprentice to Captain Jeanist.”

“The one and only?”

“Captain?”

“No, the only apprentice,” Shinsou corrects and smiling eyes betray his disinterest, “I’ve heard stories. It’s nice to meet you, Y/n.”

“Likewise,” you murmur as he leaves you with a bag in both hands, and strides back to the crowd to help load luggage. The champion is long gone and mingling with friends and so you’re alone again, left to fiddle at a distance with your halberd and the leather sling used to carry it on your back.

When you gaze back over the group from afar, it does seem that everyone but you already quite likes one another, and it probably feels that way because it’s true. They know each other somehow and you are the only stranger. A foreigner at the front gates of your home.

Next to the stack of luggage, Sero opens the door for his two friends and you must watch them all curtsy before trying to wrestle each other inside. Shinsou catches the blond when he trips backwards on the single carriage step, Sero is finally wearing pants that fit him, black and pleated, and the prince is now stamping his foot on the ground in conversation with the most unfazed man you’ve ever met. Master Aizawa, you suppose, from Takoba.

Behind you the warm castle whistles with wind and morning activity. Your home. In front of you the pink-haired girl blows kisses to imaginary admirers and Kirishima hoists the prince into the carriage by force. It hasn’t been more than an hour and it is already good, true, and apparent that this caravan will have your full attention or else start a war.

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[ghostmachine-exe]

BNHA CHAPTER 430 SPOILERS!!

Well, I finally read the last chapter and proceeded to sob all over it. I definitely wanna gush over all of my feelings soon but I also really wanted to do a follow up and cover on the small things (I'll take it!) we did get dadmight wise in the epilogue.

- Head pat color spread

- Them recovering together in the same room (Thank you Tsukauchi!!)

- Toshinori trusting Izuku to wheel him around while he was in a wheelchair

- Toshinori's words of "you can be a hero" impacting Izuku to the point that he was able to confidently pass that energy on to a boy of the next gen

- Them meeting up so Toshinori could hand deliver him his new support gear suit that would allow him to a hero once again (a quirkless hero at that!! He did it in his fight 8 years ago and believes Izuku can be a full pro while quirkless with a support gear suit!!)

- Toshinori supporting and believing in his boy so wholeheartedly that he'll be able to take the power in stride having seen him work well with mulitple quirks

- I love that he also mentions Izuku's body still moving on his own since that's something he believes to be a mark of a hero and what inspired him to be a better hero himself as well as take a chance on this random quirkless kid 😭

- AND THEN SAYING IT'S A POWER HE EARNED FAIR AND SQUARE LIKE WHEN HE PASSED ONE FOR ALL ONTO HIM AHHHGH

- (all of this feeling like his own rewording of "you can be a hero" and the answer of "yes" to "Can someone without a quirk become a hero like you?")

- Toshinori overall being one out of many to help his dream of being a pro hero continue

- Not specifically dadmight but wow I did indeed cry patrially out of sheer joy that All Might Toshinori Yagi is still alive hell yeah

There's probably more I could try to think of, but those are my main point-outs for now. I'll prob be getting more into how much they mean to me in my emotional mha final thoughts post.

Bonus dadzawa

- Aizawa being tough love as always, pushing Izuku to improve the way he teaches the next gen but also showing clear concern over his loneliness away from his friends who are all busy being pros.